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eureka-its-zico · 2 months ago

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Residuals Pt 3

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

A/N: Screaming at the top of my lungs because you have all been so incredibly lovely and sweet. I appreciate every single one of your comments, reblogs, and your excitement over this spur-of-the-moment series idea. Honestly, I can gush forever. Thank you! This chapter is centered around a little extra backstory on their relationship (briefly). I noticed it's around ep. 4 when everything starts popping off in the show (and I have scenes already pre-written cause I’m excited!) so I hope the story stays entertaining and true to showing slow insights into characters, their flaws, and being human. As always, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. Much Love. Jenn

Thank you to the bestie @viridian-dagger for humoring me and checking all of my work. Thank you for helping keep me sane.

Words: 7208

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You remembered with agonizing clarity the last day you’d seen Robby. You could recall down to the very marrow of the hour how you’d watched him grab his backpack and head out the door.

If you weren't careful, your subconscious loved to dredge that particular memory up in frequent rotation.

If you weren’t careful, always on mental high alert, the memories came violently to the forefront demanding that you remember what it felt like to walk the halls of your home in nothing but his shirts. It had you up late in the middle of the night writing a list of all the achingly obvious differences between the empty bed you now slept in and the one you’d shared with him. How his large frame curled against your back or how his nose pressed into the crook of your neck before he woke you, trailing kisses down your collarbone.

Sometimes, Robby held you so tight you’d jokingly ask if he was trying to morph together like The Thing.

You’d gotten used to the quiet in your home. The lack of security knowing another person was there. You’d learned to portion down your meals, so you didn’t make some on accident for two, or three when Jake was home for the week. You did laundry less and didn’t have to fold as much. There was no one to help you build furniture or tear it down. The trash was handled by you and only you. Dishes sat questionably for longer in the sink than they should’ve. There were no hands on your hips to keep you steady as you demanded to be an independent woman and use the step ladder to change broken fixtures and lightbulbs. No car rides with blues gently playing through the speakers with his hand on your thigh.

No. You were reminded every minute of every day since you’d left of what you lost. What you chose to leave behind.

The day you left you’d waited in the hall. In the past, before the pandemic, before the world went to shit and stopped making sense, Robby waited for you to send him off. You’d bring him his backpack full of protein bars, a homemade sub sandwich (if he ever got to it), and instant coffee packets when he didn’t. The moment you were close enough for him to grab - to touch - Robby would reach for you.

Before Robby, you didn’t know what it felt like to be worshipped; to be craved and wanted so badly that they couldn’t wait for the moment they could touch you. The safety of trusting someone because they loved you without pretense allows you to be comfortable enough to be good, bad, weird, and everything in between.

“You’re my favorite person.” He’d told you this randomly, while you’d both been curled up on the couch. Your cheek pressed against his chest. You heard the slight change in rhythm before he spoke. It was an answer to a question you’d asked weeks ago. One he refused to answer because “What are we in junior high?”

You didn’t believe in fairytales or the idea of perfect relationships. You believed in what someone’s actions said about them when they tried to cover them up with words. You didn’t know what it was like to have someone choose you, all of you, until Robby.

Whenever he had the chance, Robby was always touching you - light traces of fingers that drew aimless doodles in your skin while he read. His hand glided across your back as he passed you in the kitchen or the hallways at work. Once Robby learned how much you loved having his hands on you, he found ways to use them all the time - in ways that made you feel secure and others that were far from innocent.

But out of everything, Robby always made sure you were taken care of and, most of all, loved.

Usually, when Robby departed from the house, he used his large frame to crowd into your space. Possessive hands snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him. Every time, like clockwork, you eagerly respond to his touch. Your neck already falling back just enough for his mouth to slate over yours.

Those memories of better days, days where you didn’t have to question if he still loved you, are what made the last day so hard. You stood there, silently hoping that he would turn around. That Robby would just stop putting in his air pods, looking everywhere but at you, and finally acknowledge you. You didn’t want your last fight to be what you remembered - the words you’d hurled at one another with tired vehemence the final thing you heard.

You just wanted him to love you like he used to. But the problem was, you weren’t sure if you could love him how you used to anymore either.

“I think you should take Kiara up on her offer, Michael. You need to speak with someone even if it isn’t her.”

“Jesus,” he huffed. A hand scrubbed at his face before latching behind his head. His eyes screwed tight as if he could simply blink the conversation away. “Here we fucking go again.”

“Yes, here we go again. We wouldn't have to keep doing this merry-go-round around the issue if you would just admit - “

“Admit what?” His voice rose in challenge, and it took every ounce of you not to return it. “You seem to want me to say I’m broken so you don’t have to be the only one.”

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed, pushing your dinner plate further down the table.

You weren’t hungry anymore.

“It’s not bullshit! I’m not the only one in this room who won’t be honest with themselves.”

“That’s real rich coming from you, Michael. If you think that’s true, look me in my eyes and admit you don’t feel some type of way since he passed. And I never once fucking said that you were broken - “

“That’s the point! You don’t have to. I can see it in the way you look at me. The way you talk to me. It’s like no matter what the fuck I say you don’t believe me. You just want me to be depressed like - “

“Like what, Michael.”

The room went glacial cold. Your eyes turned to slits as you waited for him to finish his sentence. A piece of you prayed he didn’t because you didn’t know how much more you could take before you finally broke.

“Like you,” he sighed, voice defeated as if he hated saying it as much as you hated hearing it. “You haven’t been the same since -”

“Shut up.”

“- it happened and I’m sorry. I - I wish I’d been there - “

“I said shut up! Jesus, just stop talking!”

The venom in your voice was toxic. It had your arm lashing out and shoving the plate of food off the table. The sound of tableware clattering and glass breaking dimmed the flash of anger enough to be embarrassed at your outburst. You hadn’t meant to do it. Just like you hadn’t meant to do a lot of things since Adamson passed, since the pandemic, and…since you received the news.

It was written plainly in the silence held between you. The unspoken depression from two different spectrums left you both unable to help the other. Neither of you knew how to bridge the gap your stubbornness bred.

Doctors were historically the worst patients because of that very reason. Pride. You used to believe Robby and you didn’t share an ounce of it between you, but you’d been wrong. You forgot you were both human and flawed.

“I just want to help you, Michael. Please. Ever since Adamson passed and - and what happened - “

“He doesn’t have anything to do with what happened! What happened fucking happened because it’s nature. It’s - it just wasn’t our time. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up for something you have no control over. How many times have we told our patients this?” Robby looked up from his hands and you wished he hadn’t. His watery eyes were close to spilling; the tsunami of pain was all-consuming and when he whispered your name before he spoke again, you wanted to shatter. “You’re killing yourself from the inside out with this self-hatred.”

How many times have you been told that exact thing? It was an unfortunate natural process. It just ‘happened’. Every word is sterile and scientific which makes you feel less and less like a person. And what about the news that came after? Was that natural too?

Maybe you were the one who was broken.

“Adamson happened too, and you haven’t been the same since we lost him. You’re on edge more, Mike. You snap at work and home. You’re closed off. You’re so desperate to put it under the rug that we only focus on me? Bring up my faults so we can bury yours.”

A sneer pulled up his lips as he turned away from you. His eyes scan over the shelves and furniture in the room - looking everywhere but at you.

“You just want to help me? That’s what you keep feeding yourself but in reality, you just want me to be who I was before this. I don’t know if I can be that man again and when I tell you that, you act like a fucking child going around slamming doors.” Shame flushed up your face, turning your cheeks red with embarrassment. You’d done that and worse. You thought you could wait whatever this was out until it got better. But it wasn’t better. It was worse and you were so, so tired. “You want to focus on me but what about you?”

“You aren’t the only one hurting - that lost someone. You left me! You fucking left me to deal with it all on my own. Where the fuck were you when I needed you?”

“I’ve been right here with you!” Robby shouted back. “I’m right here with you, baby, but you don’t fucking see it. You won’t let me in.”

The tears you struggled to contain escaped in one shaky exhale. You carried around so much of your shame and guilt - tried repairing the cracks with quick fixes so Robby wouldn’t see because the last thing you wanted was pity. You didn’t want the confirmation that you were irreparably broken.

“But you’re not here. Are you? Not really.”

The earlier flash of rage was extinguished with each word. This job was a marvel and a curse. It took and took without forgiveness. Sometimes you’re fighting to save people who don’t want to be saved; who’ve never known the support and love they needed to believe they were more than their demons. Who wanted to succumb to a brief drop of loneliness in the ocean of a lifetime. Or you saw the ugliness that people did to one another and left you having an existential crisis if someone’s bad choice made their life unworthy of saving.

Robby dealt with all of these things daily. He shouldered them for every friend in the hospital. For every patient who needed the strength of his resolve and the care he delivered. He gave all that and more during the pandemic and now he’d given so much that there wasn’t much left to tend to himself.

Robby used to lean on you for just about everything. Sometimes, your talks were gradual - opening up little by little until everything was exposed. Other times, they came in bursts. A rush of words said too fast because if neither of you just ripped the band-aid off and said it, nothing would ever get fixed. Now all of that came to a screeching halt. You didn’t know what he was feeling anymore or thinking. He shut you out in so many ways. You tried to break through and failed.

You both stood at separate spectrums of grief and neither of you knew how to reach the other anymore.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You hadn’t meant about your relationship. You wish you could’ve said that - informed him that the despair and betrayal of your own body left you in a place of purgatory. The pandemic stripping you bare and raw pressing salt into every wound. How was Robby supposed to love you if you didn’t know how to love yourself?

But it’s not how it sounded leaving your lips. It’s not how he took it as you watched his shoulders deflate. The emptiness that hollowed out his eyes in protection and left them empty as you felt.

“No one is forcing you to stay.”

You never did get to tell him you saw him - saw that he’d been there waiting for you to open up. He wasn’t who he was, but he’d still tried the best he could in whatever ways he could. In the end, you believed you deserved punishment.

Maybe that’s what losing Robby was - the universe's way of dishing it out for a wrong you never knew you committed.

It felt suffocating; your chest caved to create a black hole of grief that felt never-ending. You watched as the pandemic tore him down piece by piece - shredding him to ribbons. So many lives were ravaged by the virus with no way to combat it. You remembered the overwhelming, crushing feeling of seeing dozens of patients lining hallways because there were no more beds. Every doctor, nurse, RTs, and CNAs struggled to care for every patient and be with those in their final moments because the families couldn’t. It was chaos. It was frightening. It felt like it would go on forever. The last thing anyone expected was for Adamson to get sick. For the virus to infiltrate his body and claim his life.

Robby had run outside, tearing off his hazmat suit. Unable to breathe around the soul-crushing grief that constricted the air from his lungs. He’d crumbled like a house of cards as you held him in your arms, but he wasn’t allowed to grieve. He was a doctor, you were still a fucking doctor, and neither of you were allowed to grieve. You needed to compartmentalize; sew up the fraying edges of your grief and go back inside and be the doctors everyone needed.

It was agony watching what came after. The way he struggled day and night to get any amount of rest while wrestling with his demons. The guilt kept him up at night and woke him screaming covered in a cold sweat. Eventually, he stopped sleeping in bed with you all together. Slowly, you saw him less at home and only at work. You watched while the anxiety ate him alive and transformed him into someone you could barely recognize, and you felt helpless against it. At any moment, the pain in your chest would swallow you whole.

And just when you thought, given a few months, you’d be able to find new joy in your life, it all came crashing down again.

So, you waited in that hallway. You waited for any sign that you should stay. You waited to see if you’d change your mind and begin to be honest with him. You waited for him to at least turnaround and look at you - for the recognition of the life you’d had months before to flash in those beautiful brown eyes. You waited in the hallway even after he’d left - waited for your tears to dry before you went upstairs to pack up your old life and find a new one.

You’d expected a lot of possibilities when Gloria brought you back down to the Pitt. You considered all the variables and the endless amount of what-ifs. It felt inevitable for you to end up in this very situation; him being the attending, in charge of the Pitt, and overseeing a case. The only thing you hadn’t accounted for was how the heat of his body pressed against your back made you forget how to breathe. Your mouth suddenly dry and your heart pounded violently against the ache in your chest.

Was Robby even aware of what he was doing? You could practically feel him take a breath he was so fucking close. Fuck, you wanted to scream and you almost did when you felt his gloved hand move across your lower back as he stepped around you. The old desire to touch you every chance he could was a surprise to you both when the reflex made its appearance. It must have been a mistake - a subconscious tick because old habits can die hard. It was the only thing that made sense. You fought the urge to mouth a, ‘What the fuck?’ at him. Did he even realize what he’d done? If he did, he was damn good at hiding it.

You needed to get your shit together. You brought him in here for your patient.

“Allan,” you began to introduce him and found you had to clear the warble from your voice. “Allan, this is Dr. Robby. He’s the attending doctor here in the emergency department. Robby, this is Allan and his mother, Rebecca.”

“Pleasure to meet you both. Now, Allan, why don’t you tell me what brings you in today?”

Once Robby agrees to your use of wire cutters to remove the key rings, conferring on medications during and after a take-home prescription, you immediately go to work. It took a few extra minutes of explaining to Allan (and his very traumatized mother) that you would be as gentle as possible, but the longer the key rings stayed on to cut off circulation, the higher the chance of necrosis would occur. You also promised him lidocaine to numb the area. Lots and lots of lidocaine.

You’d just signed off on discharge paperwork and spoke with him one last time about maybe just buying what he wanted to try next time. It was not only the safer option but probably more fun and less mortifying than having his mom bring him here.

You stepped out of the room and made your way up to Dana’s desk. While you’d been in the room doing minor surgery to metal keys, you’d heard a couple of new traumas that arrived through the ambulance bay. The one that unfortunately had stuck with you was the nineteen-year-old kid who’d been found unresponsive. Nineteen. Two years older than Jake.

For years you tried to make sense of how it was possible to become so attached to a son that wasn’t even yours. You didn’t give birth to Jake and missed the beginning stages of his life. You met him at his ninth birthday party and thought he would automatically hate you. Instead, he asked you questions about superheroes and if you had a favorite wrestler.

The relationship between Robby and Jake’s mom had been hard to navigate. Harder when you came into the picture because all mothers are understandably weary of unknown variables and people around their children. You did your best not to step on any toes and bided your time until Jake’s mom trusted you - felt comfortable enough - with your presence to allow Jake to stay over when he asked Robby.

You went on field trips as a chaperone when Jake asked, helped him build science fair projects, and tried your best to play basketball with Jake and Robby. You were better at three-pointers and playing horse than the original two - on - two. Jake chose to see you as another parent. His mother decided to let you be a part of his life and knowing Robby, loving Robby, brought you all together. You were forever grateful to both of them for it.

But seeing cases like this one - hearing about them - caused a cold sweat to spread across your body. Jake was a good kid - a smart kid but even smart kids could make mistakes.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and continued moving towards where Dana sat front and center in all the chaos. She was currently on the phone but her eyes tracked you as you made your way towards her.

Quickly, you unlocked your phone and went to your messages. You tapped on Jake’s name.

Mom v2.0 ~ Hey kiddo just checking in. Everything good?

You were about to lock the phone and put it away when his reply came back at lightning speed.

JakeTheRipper ~ Hey! Ya everything’s 👍🏽 I’m coming by the hospital later to get tickets from dad. Be cool to see you. JakeTheRipper ~ if you can! JakeTheRipper ~ if you have the time!

You and Jake never lost contact with one another after you and Robby split. It’d been his golden rule and who were you to break rules, especially golden ones? But you hadn’t seen him since he was fifteen. The last weekend you spent housed up in the house - his teenage self picking up a dark cloud stole the warmth from the home.

He’d asked to see you a few times since then but you were always busy. Always unsure if you were overstepping. But you were here now and he said he was coming here anyways so -

“What’s got you smiling all goofy?”

Dana’s question sent you crash landing back into the present. You were standing directly in front of her seated position, phone in one hand and wire cutters in the other while a perfectly arched brow did most of her questioning.

“Ugh, it’s nothing,” you replied, tucking the phone back into your pocket.

God, you were acting suspicious. Be natural. Be cool.

“You got a boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, god no, no, no.”

You were throwing in way too many no’s.

You felt like you were under a microscope when Dana’s eyes narrowed in on you like this. A cold sweat was going to happen any minute now.

“There aren’t that many things that make women smile at their phones like that.”

“Memes make people smile at their phones because they’re witty and funny. A good deal on a pair of shoes, funny videos of animals, or cute babies…anyway,” you mumbled before handing the wire cutters over the top of her computer. “Ron the maintenance guy should be coming by to pick these back up. If I miss him, can you let him know I appreciate him letting me borrow these?”

“Did you tell him what they were gonna be used for?”

“Oh, god no, and please Dana don’t tell him I used it to cut key rings off a patient's penis.”

“You mean he didn’t know why you were asking for them?” She laughed. Dana fucking laughed and it eased the tension from your shoulders tenfold. “I think at least owe the man some kind of lunch, don’t you?”

“Ugh, well, I disinfected them. Twice? Does that count?”

Another bark of laughter came as she shook her head in disbelief. She was still smiling when she reached out and took the cutters from your hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be up in triage?” Langdon asked, sliding in on your right.

“Did you come all the way over here from your spot in hell to ask me that, Langdon? Are we slacking off today or willfully choosing to be lazy?”

Langdon shot you a sarcastic smile before he reached over to grab a tablet and handed it over to the med student who’d been with him before. Her dirty blonde hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and her glasses gave her an almost childlike demeanor that was only enhanced by the excited way she bounced on her heels. Her hand shot across the counter in way of introduction.

“Melissa King - everyone calls me Mel.”

She was so eager - sweet - that you almost warned her to be cautious in the Pitt. It tends to eat the good ones alive.

“Dr. Fullerton,” you replied, taking her hand briefly. “I remember you from earlier. Hopefully, Langdon is taking care of you and isn’t showing you what not to do during a residency?”

“Ha, that’s very funny, Fullerton. How long has it been since you’ve been down here? You’ve probably gone soft with all the babying they do upstairs.”

“Out of the two of us, Langdon who is still in their last year of residency and who is a board-certified doctor?”

“You know what I smell?”

“I don’t smell anything,” Mel interjected, thin lines of confusion creasing around her eyes.

“No, I don’t mean - it’s metaphorical, Dr. King.”

“Okay, kids that's enough. Robby sees you two both standing here bickering, you'll both be in trouble.”

“Is that your way of telling us to go back to taking care of the board?” You asked.

“No, it’s my way of telling you both to get the hell away from my station. Now shoo both of you,” Dana retorted, using a stack of patient demographics to swat at Langdon and you.

“I’m going, I’m going,” you surrendered, backing away.

You were mid-turn when an enthusiastic wave from Dr. King was thrown your way.

“It was nice to meet you. Again,” she excitedly called after you.

She seemed too pure to have picked the Pitt. Everyone had their reasons for doing residencies here and, hell, you believed med students should be mandated to work at least one full rotation in an emergency department to truly learn. Mel, however, made you just want to protect her from the harsh realities of a place like this. It could be soul-crushing and there is no way to prepare yourself for when it happens.

“Likewise, Mel. If you ever want a break from ER Ken you’re more than welcome to come find me.”

“She’s good where she’s at, Fullerton.”

You didn’t bother giving a retort; you and Langdon could keep up the verbal back and forth the whole shift. You were only a couple feet away when you heard Dr. King state, “She seems nice.”

“Yeah. She’s alright. A little unhinged, but alright.”

Each word had been pulled like teeth from him; admitting you weren’t the absolute worst thing in the world, or at least inside this hospital, you knew made Langdon grumpy. Those few words left a sour taste in his mouth admitting anything nice about you, but it was enough for you because it meant one thing for you. There was hope that today wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

It was a busy morning but mornings were always busy in the Pitt. There shouldn’t have been a reason the hum of panic constantly buzzed behind his ears. It only grew louder the closer he got to the pediatrics wing of rooms. The bright colors blazed out into the hallway; all greens and blues. Animal motifs meant to instill comfort instead summoned what he’d struggled to keep buried.

Dana already caught him helplessly trapped outside the room. The memory of that day - the last day with Adamson - flashed vividly like every nightmare he’d had of that day since. Robby had been so engrossed in the recollection of monitors blaring and Princess shouting for him to do something, “Robby we’re losing him,” that he wasn’t able to shake the feeling of dread off.

He knew Dana noticed. The way her eyes craned over his shoulder to take in the peds room was the only confirmation he needed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. When do I ever make you worry about me?”

“Are you kidding?” Dana chuckled. “All the time.”

They both knew he was lying. Robby never did confirm it when Dana asked, but he didn’t need to. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be fine or even close to simply being okay. Even after four long years, Robby found he still sought Adamson’s advice. Moments in the Pitt he swore he could hear him directing the room; asking questions to challenge Robby because “a doctor never stops learning.”

He missed being able to confide in him. The expectant look on Adamson’s face when Robby asked about situations in his life where he was at a loss of what to do.

Robby needed to change the subject - and lead Dana down a safer path of questioning that he could handle. If he could keep himself away from that room he should be okay. He could handle you being here and everything else if he didn’t have to step foot in that room. He should’ve known there was no safe space where Dana wasn’t going to bring you up. Robby could see the hard exterior she tried to keep up to defend against your presence was beginning to crack.

Maybe so was his.

“The two of you looked cozy earlier.”

“Dana, you know I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her voice oozed a playfulness that edged towards teasing.

“But there is no universe where you and I talk about this.”

“I was just making an astute observation.”

“I would appreciate it if you maybe observe somewhere else. We have eleven more hours of this shift to go and I’d rather not have to spend it talking about her.”

“Yeah, because you’re allergic to talking in general.”

“Well, that’s just not true. I’m allergic to people I don’t want to have a conversation with,” he pointed out.

She tried to shake the smile off her lips. Her palm lightly smacked at his shoulder which caused his smile to rise in response.

“You’re such a smart ass.”

“I try my very best,” he mumbled as he leaned down towards the computer.

He’d just grabbed his badge to swipe past the electronic monitor to unlock the computer, placing his arms to brace on either side of the keyboard when he felt her presence eclipse to his right. Dana was leaning over the counter divider. Her arms hanging over waiting for him to look back up at her.

“Something else I can help you with, Dana?”

“Just wondering if you’d be more talkative if you knew Fullerton was all smiles earlier. She had her phone out. Seemed to be textin’ someone.”

Robby could feel his eyes narrow in on her position. He shouldn’t care - he shouldn’t fucking care - because you were the one who left. What did he care if you were dating anybody? It’s been two years. The chances of you dating were astronomically high; shit, he’d attempted it a while after you left. Instead of taking care of himself because, “You look like shit,”, as Dana lovingly told him, he’d done what 95% of the population does: he ran from it.

Heather Collins was an R2 at the time. She was funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful, and he’d fucked it up in record time. All the things you’d thrown at him about being shit at taking his own advice, hiding from his problems, were true. When things took a turn he’d lock up. Collins noticed the cracks and mentioned them enough he countered with argument after argument. The worst part was he was harboring a love for someone else that was gone. You can’t love someone else, give them the love they deserve, when you’re buried ten feet deep for someone else. She deserved better than to be a rebound - better than what Robby could’ve given her because no matter how amazing she was he still thought of you. Heather deserved more than to be a body to bury his sorrows in. He tried dating again a year later but that had also gone up in spectacular flames. Robby couldn’t keep the ghost of you from haunting him.

He tried to act like he didn’t care - that Dana’s words weren’t threatening his last proper brain cell for the day. By the look on Dana’s face, he did a shit job of hiding it. So what if you were with someone? He shouldn’t even care.

“Did she say who she was talking to?”

Why the fuck did he ask that? Dana didn’t necessarily answer him as much as she chose instead to grin. A silent, ‘Gotcha’ flashing that he absolutely hated. He’d walked right into it.

“Surprise, surprise. I thought she’d be one of your allergies.”

A huff of laughter rushed past his lips that he tried to cover up with a cough.

“You’ve got a mean streak in you.”

Dana patted his arm before she retracted back inside her bubble. The phone went off in record time to pull her safely away from having to hear him complain. She gave him one last thumbs up before her back faced him, completely ending the conversation and forcing him back to the open file on the screen.

He enjoyed the quiet for all of a millisecond before he heard -

“Hey, fruitcake.”

God, take him now. Robby chose to ignore her. Ignore her like every other time -

“Hey, I’m talking to you, fruitcake.”

“Myrna,” he bit out. “I told you a hundred times my name is Dr. Robby.”

He expected her to argue about nicknames and their usage. It’s usually what happens when he advises her that maybe she’d get better treatment if she’d use real names. That isn’t what he got.

“Do you wanna see my vagina?”

Robby’s eyebrows ran towards his hairline as he replied, “I've already seen it. And once was enough, thank you.”

“And what about mine?”

Robby knew that voice. He’d know it in any lifetime, through space and time; Robby would know your fucking voice anywhere. He turned to his left and there you were with your elbows and back resting against the counter. You’d leaned close enough so that your words were for him and him alone.

Robby wanted to humor himself that it had to be his imagination. The flash of something dark, ravenous, and achingly familiar he saw in your eyes must have been his subconscious going haywire. It wasn’t until he watched recognition dawn of what you said, the way you’d fucking said it, crest over your face that Robby knew he hadn’t made it up.

The heat of embarrassment had you straightening up beside him. He could see it in the light tinging of your cheeks, the anxious beat your fingers rapped on the counter. You weren’t looking at him now but he wished you would.

And then the memory of Dana saying you’d been caught smiling at your phone reared its evil head.

Mine.

He couldn’t keep the word from forming in his head. You’d been his for so long and those words of yours meant to tease and force him to give you a response. Robby wanted to tell you that no, once wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Mine.

The last few months of your relationship had ended in flames but the rest. What about the rest of the many years you’d spent together? They’d been spectacular. The best memories he had you were a part of. The attempts at gardening and doctoring up sick animals. The way you’d dance to his records as you danced through every room while you dusted. The sounds of yours and Jake’s laughter mixing from the kitchen table going over homework.

He could remember the way your hands fisted the sheets as his hands hooked under your thighs to bring you closer to his greedy mouth. Your slick drenching his face, his beard, stubble - whatever phase he was in with or without facial hair. Robby loved it when you began to let go; body melting in his hands as your fingers wound themselves tightly in his hair to pull him closer, deeper. Robby could get drunk off your taste, the soft keening breaths that came ragged and shaking from your chest. How your body trembled as he worked each finger inside you until your back arched beautifully off the bed.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine….

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t fucking care, but he fucking did.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Fullerton?”

Robby grabbed the PPE gown from beside the table before he went to his full height. From this advantage, he could faintly make out the dying hint of a flush on your cheeks.

“I was talking here first, Sugar tits.”

You pivoted to glance around him and waved at Myrna who waved back with her middle finger.

“Myrna, always a pleasure. I think that’s my third finger wave today,” you muttered the last part to him.

“Dr. Fullerton.”

“Right, right. I wanted to see if I could borrow one of your med students. Central 3 and 4 have two patients, males twenty-three and twenty- four in age. Both were at the same BBQ and believed dumping liter fluid on a fire was a good idea.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, they look like human marshmallows right now. One has second-degree burns while central 4 has, what I believe, might be second degrading into three.”

“Do you need me to come take a look?”

It felt like a reasonable question. He was attending and usually, all consultations like this went through him for an opinion. He’d just done it with her half an hour ago. It shouldn’t be a big deal -

“Oh, no, no. Thanks but I think I got this.”

“Oook. If you got it, why do you need a med student?”

“I figure it would be a good teaching moment for one of them on treatments of burns and how to assess the level. I’ve already called surgery for a consultation on central 4. Plus, there’s no available nurse to help me attend to both.”

Robby tried to keep the scoff from coming out. He shook his head and went to move around you, shooting Myrna an irritated glance that hopefully she caught as his nonverbal way of telling her he didn’t want to see her the rest of the day.

“So, you are saying you need help, you just don’t want my help.”

God, he sounded like a petulant child. By the look on your face, you’d agree with that statement.

“Robby, I know you’re busy - “

“I’m not busy,” he cut in.

“Robby, the parents of the OD teen are here.”

Dana came from behind the station, her eyes glancing between the two of you.

“Okay, park them in Trauma 1. He’s not back from CT yet. I’ll be there in a minute. You can borrow Whitaker,” he directed at you.

He had to move. There was still the floating face patient in trauma 2. He needed to find out if they’d been able to prep for a safe intubation and if not, they were doing a solid alternative. Langdon was there with both interns. Robby could trust him. He should’ve been more worried about himself because as he passed by you on his way to trauma 2, he felt his body dip towards you. The jealousy rushed up like a lance piercing his heart as he remembered Dana’s words. The idea that you’d moved on, that someone else had taken his place, threatened to remove whatever sensible bit of himself he had left.

“And don’t pull your phone out on the floor. It’s unprofessional, and I won’t have it in my department. You can step outside like everyone else.”

You didn’t look at him as he spoke. You didn’t even snap at him or give him any hint you’d heard him. Robby knew you’d heard him, but your eyes were solely focused behind him. It was the spot he’d just been standing - the spot Dana now occupied.

There should’ve been some satisfaction in watching Dana’s face crumble like this. All the earlier anger dissipated back into a playful, if not biting, rhetoric that gave you some hope the day wouldn’t be your version of Dante’s Inferno.

But Robby’s comment…

Only one person saw you on the phone earlier. One person who’d asked about who you’d been talking to while you’d read Jake’s texts. You’d been so ready to shout at Robby that it was Jake, his son. It might have given you some retribution but why should you have to explain anything to him? He was acting like a jealous significant other, not a damn boss. The way he’d pressed himself against you earlier; touching you as if half-possessed.

You weren’t helping, were you? The minute the words had leapt from your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. You shouldn’t have said it and yet, you did. You fucking did and now the wanton look he’d given you was forever etched into your brain.

You were an idiot.

An even bigger idiot for thinking Dana would’ve left anything between you.

“You just couldn’t help yourself. Could you?”

“Kid - “

Dana took a step forward ready to explain. You didn’t have it in you to listen. When the phone went off in her hand you found your way out and took it.

“Do you know where I can find Whitaker?”

“He had a patient around the North-East hallway.”

“Thanks.”

You heard her call your name. Not Fullerton, not kid. Dana said your name and for the first time today, you wished she’d stuck to calling you an asshole.

You followed Dana’s instructions and moved toward the hallways. You weren’t sure how long you’d be searching for him, but luckily it wasn’t long. On the opposite side of the hall, you watched him wheel a patient out of 17 North and into the halls. Whatever the patient said stopped Whitaker in his tracks - both grateful and surprised all at once. You waited a few minutes longer for him to enjoy a good moment with his patient (because sometimes it didn’t always go like that) before you made your way around to get to him.

“Whitaker!”

“Uhm, oh yes. Hi, Dr. Fullerton.”

“I have a couple of burn patients in Central 3 and 4; second to third degree. Dr. Robby said you’d be able to assist if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I would. That’d be awesome. Thank you.”

He was so earnest it was endearing. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go remove some dead tissue.”

You took the lead in showing Whitaker to the rooms. You were trying to make polite conversation. It only seemed fair to take a small interest in what motivated a young doctor to get into the field of medicine, of saving lives. Basic questions such as those were able to tell you a lot about who someone was and if they held enough compassion to be around people during their most vulnerable times.

You did try your best to keep your attention trained on the work. It was your turn to be a teacher, and you wanted to do it well. You didn’t have an excuse why you looked toward Trauma 1. No excuse at all why you watched Robby speak to the kids' parents looking defeated before they’d even begun. There was even less of an excuse for when Robby looked away from them, his eyes searching until he found yours, that should’ve made you want to forget these last two years. You hated the old impulse to run to him - to care for him. The last time you’d seen Robby looking desperately close to combusting like this it’d been a few doors down standing outside pediatrics.

Looking at him now, Robby seemed ready to quit, and it wasn’t even close to 8:30.

______________

As always, thank you all so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

______________

Tag list: @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange

#Residuals #ongoing series #the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt fanfiction #michael robinavitch #dr michael robinavitch #dr robby #dr robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #dr michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #the pitt x reader #dr robby x oc #michael robinavitch x oc #michael robinavitch x you #noah wyle #saucy angsty babies

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goldenstring6123 · 10 months ago

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Sylus: Seething Red

Warning: 3.9K words. Angst. Little comfort. Cursing! Lots of it. Suggestive ending, for 16+ only, Plot heavy. Emotional & Dramatic. If you can't stomach arguments and fighting, I don't suggest reading this. Reader is not the MC but works as a hunter.

Author's note: This was a bit delayed because I had to re-write this three times :> warning, I proofread this once but I was lacking sleep soooo...

You burned with rage.

Seething, searing the skin of your entire being.

You revved your motorcycle faster, traversing through the pitch-black rainy night in the N109 zone. The fog was severe compared to the city, enough to obstruct the view of the street. Nonetheless, you continued driving, gritting your teeth at the thought of your lover, Sylus.

The towering building of Sylus' base remained void of any form of life, shrouded in a hazy mist of smoke and fog. Not even crows lingered about the premises.

You slammed the door open and met the twins, Luke and Kieran, one reading a book and the other looking at his phone. There was no time to spare them each a hello; you trudged through the godforsaken hallway and threw open Sylus' door.

There, the aforementioned man sat on his couch, staring at the flickering flame of his fireplace, his phone in your hand. "I recall telling you not to leave." The distaste was on his tongue, especially at the photograph of you in the airport with your teammates.

Your nails dug into the ball of your palm, almost threatening it to bleed. Any ounce of reasonable patience in you was slowly evaporating. The urge to talk in a calm manner had long been gone. You gritted your teeth while you took another step closer. "And who are you to make that decision?!"

Jenna gave you an opportunity to showcase your leadership because she knows you wanted a promotion. She offered you three projects to lead alongside her, and you chose a clean-up operation on Almus Island, an island infested with mutant Wanderers.

There was a lot of effort put into this, and you couldn't afford any mishap. You trained hard for this, coordinating with the data team and your own to create plans and backups in case anything went haywire.

It was one of the most dangerous tasks you had to do in your entire career—One that deserved the promotion you most certainly craved. Everything was leading up to that moment you boarded the jet.

That was three hours ago. The security guards stopped you and prevented you from leaving, stating that there was something wrong with your pass. You had no clue what they were talking about, but whatever it was, it prevented you from boarding the jet.

The team was under pressure. Jenna didn't know what to do as well. No matter what you did, no matter what papers you showed, they just didn't let you through. Time-bound, Jenna had no choice but to order you to go back to the headquarters and supervise from there.

That was a complete blow to your ego. After all that preparation, training, and debriefing, you wound up stuck inside the office instead of out there doing your job, which accompanied your title.

The recent promotion you got was an opportunity to ascend the corporate ladder, but with Sylus' actions, you looked nothing more like a fool. You had no idea why Jenna advised you to just head back to the office after security denied your access to the jet, but the sight of Mephisto perched on the flight display helped you put two and two together.

The shame, embarrassment, and look of pity from your peers choked you out of your logical thinking. They whispered against one another, asking why you were holding up the mission.

For once, you thought so little of yourself. Their stares were like fire ants on your skin, stinging you to your very being.

"I talked to you about this before, sweetie. I explicitly warned you about leaving the project for your own safety," Sylus said. The tone in his voice was that of when he was calm and collected, unbothered by the fiery rage that was drowning your mind. "Almus Island is dangerous because it was previously my turf, and I'm not joking when I say that place is a hellhole—it was abandoned for a reason."

"That's not an excuse for you to meddle in my affairs! I was already at the airport, I was with my team ready to leave, and then I found out I can't leave the country because of some shit you pulled?!"

"I warned you to heed my words," he said matter-of-factly. Every word that comes out of his mouth is like a landmine to trigger your emotions. You had the urge to cry, but you fought the pinpricks in your eyes. "I told you to drop off that project and do something else." His words came out smooth, almost matter-of-factly, and you hated it.

Sylus was the type of man to not give in on his actions, and tonight was the time when you had to painfully realize that.

"Listen to me, you piece of fuck—" You hissed through your teeth and strode angrily to him. "—What I do for work doesn't concern you unless Onychinus is involved. I deliberately chose to lead this project instead of the other offered to me because I don't want to be after your neck—God forbid I don't stand a chance against your organization."

Sylus threw his phone onto the couch, visibly irked at your words. "And I did what I did because I don't want you to end up dead," Sylus retorted.

"Are you too much of an idiot to not comprehend that?!" His red eyes glowed, fury flickering behind them. "I requested for you to not leave because I know for a fact you're going to end up injured when you come back, worse, you'd end up as a corpse."

Stupid. His reasoning is pure and utter stupid. Sylus? Scared of losing you? Bullshit. That flawed and shallow reason did nothing to soothe the fire in your heart. You didn't know what was powering your anger.

Was it the shame that you were so eager to leave but couldn't?

Was it the fact that Sylus thinks you're weak?

That he has an overwhelming amount of power against you?

Was it the fact that Jenna had high expectations, but you had made a fool of yourself in front of your peers?

It was all of it.

"That's a part of the job! What I did before you and I met is the same, I fight, and I get injured—Why are you speaking like I'm some sort of newbie in the field? You've seen me in action multiple times, I even saved your ass once!"

"I did what I did because I need to, and I'll do it all over again no matter how many times you berate me. You are staying in this city—you can take whatever project you want, you can go after the organization for all I care, and I'd be more than willing to let you shoot me, but you are not going to that island."

"Fuck! Why are you so insistent?! Did you think that just because you're powerful and shit, you get to toss me around like your fucking lackey?

Do you think so little of me? When I chose you, I did not fucking sign up to be dragged around by your whims—I don't give two fucks why and how you did it, but you don't get to meddle in my affairs," you yelled at him. You didn't care who heard you. You didn't even care about anything anymore.

"You don't get to have a choice."

A loud, ear-piercing crash reverberated in his room.

Before he could say anything else, you picked up the nearest object beside you, a small statuette, and lunged it at him. The once solid form is now nothing more than debris of glass. It crashed against the wall behind his head, the shards flying to cut his cheek.

"Well fuck me, since when did I ever have one with you? The last choice I made was choosing you, and it went to shit from there. I follow every one of your fucking whims, but when I requested for you to not do shit, you turn a deaf ear." You didn't know what you were saying. The words were flowing out of your mouth uncontrollably, previous thoughts and buried resentment now at the forefront of your thoughts.

Silence befalls the room, and you can only hear the harsh thumps of your heartbeat. Beneath the silver-haired man's facade was a clear look of disbelief. Sylus laughed dryly at your words. He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut, no longer able to hide his displeasure. "So you're turning this about me?"

"Sweetie," he flicked his hand, and the black and crimson mist wrapped around you, thwarting you closer to him.

"I prevented you from leaving the country because I don't want your death on my hands. I don't wish for you to get injured, but I tolerated seeing you hospital-bound every other month. You are my partner, and I want what's best for you. I don't want you dying on some godforsaken island just because it's your job."

His EVOL released you, but his long and hard fingers grabbed ahold of your face too roughly. "I did it because I adore you. Because you're my lover," he hissed. Sylus pressed your face closer together, "I did it to protect you."

His nails dug into your cheek, and you winced, clawing it off. "I don't want your protection. I never needed it in the first place," you said through clenched teeth.

"Get this through your fucking head. No matter how powerful you are and no matter what you are to me, whether I do dangerous jobs is not up to you," you dug a finger into his chest. "My life is not in your hands. It never will be."

You pulled away from him and stepped back. "I'm following after them. You better not pull that shit again."

Sylus let out a gruff sigh, drowning in debilitation. His long and slender legs made their way to where you were, and to your dismay, he wrapped a hand around your dainty wrist before dragging you faster out of his room.

A flash of thunder momentarily illuminated the hall, and as you landed on the ground, Sylus said one thing:

"You're not going anywhere."

The door slammed shut right in front of your face.

---

You couldn't do anything. You were helpless against Sylus' orders, and he kept his word: You weren't allowed to leave the country.

As much as you wanted to wallow in self-pity and anger, you had a job to do.

The office was quiet, especially in your division, with you and another co-worker coordinating the mission through the telecommunication room. The soles of your feet were chafed from all the walking, and your throat was dry from distributing orders to all of your team members.

You could only observe the condition of the island through the lenses in their suit. It was pure chaos, and more than half of the team were injured. Thankfully, there were no deaths.

Two weeks had gone by in a blur, and you were navigating through the exhaustion and disappointment. The team, comprising the best of the best, had not made nearly half of the progress expected—they were tasked to retreat for the time being.

Nights were spent in the company's living quarters, and you thrived off canteen food to the point where it tasted bland. You even caught a fever, but you brushed it off with cold medicine.

What was ironic was despite the hectic schedule, every little time in between your duties, you glanced at your phone.

Ever since that night, there has not been a single text message from Sylus. You didn't have the strength to barge into his room, and there was no point either; there was no one left in the base.

The team got back, and there was chaos once more, distracting you for the next week. Most were in and out of the hospital, asking for leaves and days off to recuperate. The damages to your teammates were bigger than what you anticipated, so much so that the daily workforce dwindled by a lot.

Adding to the office workload was the patrol duty and killing off wanderers.

Needless to say, by the time you arrived home, there was almost no time to think. Your head hit the pillow, temples aching to the rhythm of your sore back; yet even then, you could only think of Sylus. The harshness of your words was slowly eating you alive, and what was worse was that you couldn't even remember what he had said.

Your phone lit up to notify you of your schedule tomorrow. Instead, you opened the messaging app and clicked on Sylus' profile.

He had seen the message but did not respond.

Again, he had seen the message.

You bit your lip, typing the letters carefully and weighing your own words. You closed your eyes and pressed send before closing your phone. You were too tired to think about what you said, and with a heavy heart, you drifted off to sleep.

----

The presence of the man behind you was too overwhelming. It was overwhelming to the point where it was enough to stir you in your sleep—the only temporary escape you could have.

It didn't sink in at first. The fact that you weren't in your room. It was too dark and somber for it to be your apartment bedroom; the comfort of the tiny plushies on your desk was gone. Instead, it was the sight of an unused fireplace and the velvet and gold couch.

The satins were rough to your liking and had a scent of sandalwood and citrus. Definitely different from the rose scent you were accustomed to.

Sylus's bedroom. That's where you were. Anxiety pitted at the bottom of your stomach upon this realization; he was nowhere near your line of sight, but the chill on your back was enough of a guide. You turned behind you, eyes adjusting to the blaring city lights displayed outside of his massive windows.

His figure was recognizable, but as bright as the city lights were, you couldn't see any of his facial features.

You opened your lips to speak, yet no words came out of your mouth, and not a coherent thread of thought manifested in your head. There was no point in asking why he brought you back to his base. And as much as you wanted to speak to him, you didn't. The urge subsided quickly, and a second later, the urge to leave took its place.

You took off from the bed, adjusting the sleeve of your nightwear. Your legs were light and quiet as they attempted to make their way to the other half of the room where the exit was. You had no clue how you were going to go home in your state, but it was a lesser feeling than the urge to leave Sylus again.

"The message you sent," he spoke, his hands nudging in your way. "I'm assuming you're going to take it back?" It was as if the floor had become soil: stems of his black and crimson smoke emerged like vines, entangling your feet into their current position.

You kept your mouth shut.

His figure turned into smoke, which accumulated in front of you. "Sweetie," like a month ago, he grabbed a hold of your jaw. "I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you."

"Whether you're forgiven or not doesn't matter. The last message you sent—do you mean it?"

You didn't, no. That was sent out of impulse, yet with Sylus ghosting you for almost a month, it was almost like he was just waiting for you to say it. What were you supposed to think? He could've thrown you away and found someone else by then.

"I don't know," you whispered.

"You don't know?" he repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"I don't know. You didn't talk to me for a month, and you left the headquarters—I had no way to contact you. What else would I think?" You couldn't look him in the eye, but if you could've seen it, his eyes flickered to softness.

Sylus sighed and set your foot free. The harsh grasp on your face softened until he eventually had to let go.

"I was on Almus Island, and so were the twins."

"Did you—"

"Hurt your teammates? No." He walked over to his couch and ignited a matchstick. He threw it onto the fireplace, and the image of the room became brighter. Only then did you realize your lover's state.

You scurried over to him, fixated on the bandage that wrapped around his ribs and the dried patches of blood on his biceps.

"What did you do?"

"I personally helped with the clean-up." He leaned back on the couch, a scowl on his face when an ache came from his wounds. His back carefully pressed against the velvet cushion, and relief overcame him. "I destroyed the protofield which was left open."

A protofield? You thought. What protofield? There was never a portal indicated in the debriefing. Sure, there was an underground abandoned base, which most likely belonged to Onychinus. Still, they were all bunkers and storage rooms filled with lousy protocores.

"There are a lot of questions in your head right now, but what's important is I've lessened your workload. Order your team to head back to the island next month and do another clean-up. It won't take more than a week and a half to kill the remaining monsters; as compensation, I'll give you access to the armory—I'm sure the higher-ups would marvel at what's left in there."

You processed his words carefully. It doesn't answer your question about the portal, but if there is one, then when the team heads back, you should add several flux stabilizers with you to avoid risking opening another protofield.

"Now, is that sufficient enough?" Sylus asked.

His words snapped you out of your brief work mode, and you stared at his face, wondering what he meant. "Enough for what?"

"As an apology."

You were speechless. Confusion filled your mind with his words. This man was unpredictable, but you were certainly sure he'd rather say sorry and move on than go through all that trouble and get injured in the process. You weren't sure if you were supposed to act all caring about his wounds or act bravely and accept his apology and go back to bed.

"Am I allowed to leave the country?" Sylus' eyes met yours at this question, but you didn't blink.

He raised his eyebrow again. "Yes, you are. I won't do that again."

"Good, you're forgiven." You eased your shoulders and turned on your heel to his closet. You entered the door and took off some jacket and some loose sweatpants of his. "Get yourself patched up by a doctor; I'm going home."

The thudding of his footsteps reverberated behind you, and before you could open the door, his big hand blocked the way. You turned back and spotted him clutching his side with a frown on his face. "Where are you going?"

"Back home," you replied matter-of-factly.

"And you're not going to address your text?"

Ah, for a moment, you forgot about that. Your break-up text. He apologized for the flight incident but never for abandoning you for a month; maybe you can take advantage of this for a little while longer.

Your fingers tapped on his hand and pushed the door closed. Your gesture was enough for him to let go and step back in the hope that you'd do something. You twisted the doorknob and pulled it open, one last peek at him.

"Get some rest."

You shut the door and ran down the hallway—instead of your home, like you said, you took one of Sylus' motorcycles and drove to the headquarters.

---

Three days had passed since then, and you really weren't that concerned with Sylus. Luke and Kieran say he's doing fine despite constantly being on edge almost every day. You, on the other hand, were busy planning for the next clean-up—hopefully, a more successful one thanks to Sylus' help.

You hopped out of the shower, but a sense of dread greeted your neck. You stopped before taking another step. Your eyes searched for the source; it wasn't from the locked door or the laptop on the kitchen desk. Your bedroom door, on the other hand…

From behind the vase near the entrance, you pulled out a small gun, but before you could even unlock it, the tall, familiar figure popped out of the bedroom, in his grasp a bouquet of roses. You froze, and so did he.

You stared at each other before he looked at your hand in disappointment.

"You really have to fix that habit of yours." The habit pertains to you constantly pointing a gun at him.

"First, you tamper with my passport, and you kidnap me while I'm asleep, and now you're breaking and entering?" You released the lock on the gun and placed it where it was, finally placing a hand on your hip. Beads of water dripped from your hair onto your bare shoulders, rolling down to your chest and finally to the towel.

"I wouldn't need to do this if you answered my question from the very beginning."

You don't want to deal with him right now. Not when I'm half-naked.

"Wait for me in the living room."

My movements weaved around him, and he just quietly followed my figure. His footsteps were quiet, but he was following me into the room—you had to stop him before he became an audience to you in the nude, but you didn't even get the chance to turn around.

Sylus picked you up, and you yelped from the sudden movement. You held on to the tuck of your towel as he threw you onto your own bed like he would before.

"You—I told you to wait!"

"I am not a patient man, sweetie."

The ends of the towel parted from each other, exposing a bit of your lower abdomen. His eyes landed on that specific place as well. You lifted your foot slightly and stretched it so that it could reach his chest, preventing him from taking a step further.

"Sylus. Wait."

Sylus backed off at your words like a dog. You fixed yourself back up and crossed your legs.

"No. I didn't mean that text. Not anymore, at least." To that, it was a sign for him to come closer. You watched him approach your body, looking down at you with a finger stroking the side of your face. "Just… don't ghost me like that. You made me think that you replaced me."

"Replaced you?" he questioned. "Is that how you think of me?" He almost looked offended.

"I wouldn't put it past you, considering the things I said."

He hummed and tilted your head upward so he could get a good look at your face. "I may be a shady person, but I'm certainly not a womanizer, sweetie. I thought you had more faith in me."

"Sorry," you replied.

Sylus got down on his knees and kissed your own, his calloused fingers savoring the soft touch of your calves. The sweet musk of vanilla wafted under his nose, almost reeling him in. You gazed at him intently, knowing where this was about to go.

Author footnotes: Yay I finally get to post this. I had a hard time writing this because I wanted it to be dynamic but at the same time I didn't want to write a full blown fic with an over complex back story. I had to re-write the entire thing until i felt somewhat satisfied.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by me!

#lnds #lnds sylus #lads xavier #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #l&ds #sylus lnd #SYLUS #sylus x you #sylus qin #sylus x y/n

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nutterzebutters · 4 months ago

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Honestly given the update I'd like to say a few thigns

First things first, white lily cookies separation!

This character is so brief that one might not think about it, however I do have it in mind that this Tower keeper had purposely reminded pure vanilla and white lily of the riddle in order to push Lily to make a decision sooner, rather than later as originally intended. I do believe it was a good decision for her to go off on her own, as we all know that pure vanilla is quite lost on the topic of dark enchantress vs lily- at this very time we are unsure if truthless recluse is a further repressed version or a version that has somewhat accepted it. Furthermore, if truthless recluse is a shard/illusion I do feel it may defeat a lot of storyline purpose, and do hope that it is truly a pure vanilla or part of him that has since transformed.

As for this sprite - I will not lie this is not the Sprite I was expecting to be edited for beast eyes! I totally expected the mental breakdown Sprite. I've seen a few say that this might not be pure vanilla as Shadow milk is tampering with memories- however!!!

Part of the tactic is to put pure vanilla in situations so that he may react himself in order for shadow milk to place the narrative that he will become just as bad as him. He can use these reactions and insecurities against pure vanilla- after all he poked at pure vanilla on the matter of Lily becoming dark enchantress. That she may have been more qualified to wield the power of Truth regardless, using pure vanilla's self perceived failures as the device.

This one's a little peculiar, I have a few ideas here.

Step one, I feel I should clarify if it's not already obvious that the implication of pure vanilla being Shadow milk is not a literal one~but one that works in tandem with the ladder truth of the story. Much like Shadow milk, pure vanilla does lie! Even if Shadow milk used it for his own game, pure vanilla is self-aware enough to recognize that he too has lied so that cookies may find a sweeter world. Even if it's about himself, or about the situation at hand regardless if it was for comfort it is always dug him into a hole and has even gotten him in trouble with friends. He too is somebody that has been shown to be skilled tactically- it is very reasonable to say that beyond the soul jam this was the sub-context shadow milk was bothering pure vanilla about back in episode 2 of beast yeast, "the biggest liar" as a means to place on pv.

Now let's talk about the sheer silent terror that Truthless recluse is bc I can't express enough how unnerving he could be.

Throughout the entire time, fortune teller cookie still kept a rather calm demeanor. Keeping pure vanillas soft spoken attitude and quick thinking when it comes to help- even when faced with his current self. He was silent, he was an observer and he did it without much hassle showing how cold and calculating fortune teller cookie operates. It's a different type of imposing presence than Shadow milk but I would imagine it isn't any less cold.

It does not seem that shadow milk had given him any power boost either, rather that he was holding back the first time gingerbrave and Co fought him. This is a character who is making moves with precision bearing a frigid expression not at all like the warmth that the characters have come to know. The safety that was pure vanilla cookie has been ripped out from under Earth bread at this point, as for a large majority he has somehow remained the catalyst/nexus for a lot of progress events in the main story..

-----------------

I don't have a screenshot of this part, but I do remember golden cheese appearing next to clotted cream in the Republic! I do feel that shadow milk had used the likeness of such figures to instill what may have been a previous anxiety of pure vanillas. Especially towards golden cheese, whom seeks comfort in the fact that he has experienced the same events regarding his kingdom. It shows that for pure vanilla there's always been a confliction and form of denial regarding Lily- losing the trust of everybody he has put every effort into protecting is definitely a huge fear.

I'd also like to point out in case some were confused, the doubt pv has of his power being Shadow Milks is not merely a ownership conflict despite the wording!!!!!! I can already smell the misinterpretations.

It's that everything pure vanilla has worked through was only really lent to him, his skills and anything else that may connect to the soul jam has created a permanent tether to the ladder: making it near impossible to escape. Even from episode 2, Shadow milk has set up the very open paranoia of forever watching pure vanilla- it's a consistency so we cannot say for sure that this part is a lie!! After all, in the developer commentary live stream it stated that shadow milk is more incomprehensible than the other beasts- and just unlike the other beasts his relationship with pure vanilla and the way their soul jam works is entirely different.

Pure vanilla is aware that now that shadow milk has been there the entire time, he needed to be extra careful. Now with this vision he feels that he can't use it at all unless he wants to bring danger to the cookies he cares for- damned if he does and damned if he doesn't! As if the soul jam attached to him is nothing but a tracking device with a chain.

Just like the countless appearances of Shadow milk you can only really go off of consistencies in a world of lies. One of these consistencies is the idea that pure vanilla is more connected to the other-realm/dark side of the moon then your typical cookie. It's hard to say if he inherently came from the realm, like some sort of magic birth such as candy apple but the fact that shadow milk left it so open ended leaves it as a possibility-

NOW. I will not be showing the awakened spoilers, as I am aware they are about and circling. For those who wish not to see it, I will not show it! However I will talk about a few details that I will keep for the sake of selective obscurity as I do believe that the pure vanilla Nation won💀

We all remember the theories?? Hell, even with the connections to moonlight and keys. Y'all he's gorgeous. I cannot WAIT until he gets patched in. It also seems that some of truthless recluse stayed! Hinting to the idea that pure vanilla did not escape unscathed and reinforcing the narrative that being somewhat more intertwined with Shadow milk is not a lie. That pure vanilla will eventually gravitate towards a different balance, Fun things!

#cookie run kingdom #crk #pure vanilla cookie #TruthlessRecluse #corrupted pure vanilla #shadow milk crk #beasts crk #theory #media analysis #feel free to discuss #pure vanilla crk #fypシ #white lily crk #purelily

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sturnsblogs · 2 months ago

Text

A DAY WITH MATTY

Teacher!Matt X Milf!Reader

—

It was way too early for a Saturday morning, and you were already beyond irritated. Your boss had called last night, practically begging you to cover a shift, which meant your peaceful weekend plans were now completely ruined. And on top of that, you had to find someone to watch Eliana.

Before you even had the chance to text Matt, your phone buzzed.

Matt: Sooo… can I have a little day with my girl today or what?

You smiled, shaking your head. Of course, he was already offering.

You: You really wanna babysit on your day off?

Matt: Babysit?? Babe. That’s my best girl you’re talking about. We’re hanging out.

You: You’re really wrapped around her little finger, huh?

Matt: And? Wouldn’t have it any other way.

You chuckled, already knowing Eliana would be over the moon.

You: Okay, okay. You win.

It wasn’t long before Matt knocked on your door, rocking a cozy gray hoodie and sweatpants, his baseball cap pulled low over his messy hair. He looked way too eager for a guy about to spend the day with a five-year-old, a tiny pink backpack—Eliana’s—slung over his shoulder and a water bottle swinging from his hand.

The second Eliana spotted him, she let out a shriek that could’ve woken the neighborhood. “Mattyyyyy!”

Matt grinned, dropping to one knee as she launched herself at him. “Hey, princess!” He scooped her up like she weighed nothing, spinning her in a quick circle that made her squeal before setting her down. “Guess what, babe?”

“What?!” she giggled, tugging at his hoodie strings.

“It’s just me and you today, little lady. So… what’s the plan?”

Her face lit up like a firework, and she clapped her hands. “Can we go to the big park?”

Matt gasped, clutching his chest like she’d just suggested a royal ball. “The big one? With the huge slides, babe?”

She nodded so fast her pigtails bounced. “And the monkey bars! I can do them all by myself now!”

“No way, princess,” Matt said, eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “I’ve gotta see this.”

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning at their antics. “She’s got you so whipped.”

Matt smirked, tossing you a playful wink. “And? Happiest place to be, babe.” He winked at Eliana too. “Right, little lady?”

She giggled, nodding furiously. You laughed, grabbing your bag before crouching to kiss Eliana’s forehead. “Be good for Matty, okay?” Then you stepped up to Matt, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Thank you. Have fun, you two.”

Matt’s grin softened into something warm and gooey. “Oh, we will, babe.”

And Oh, Did They Have Fun

Stop #1: The Park

The “big park” was a kid’s paradise—towering slides, twisty tunnels, and a sea of woodchips under budding spring trees. Matt parked his Jeep, and Eliana was out of her car seat in a flash, tugging his hand like she was dragging a reluctant puppy.

“Hold up, speed princess!” Matt laughed, letting her yank him toward the playground. The air smelled like fresh grass and sunshine, and Eliana was practically vibrating with excitement.

First stop: the swings. She plopped down, kicking her legs. “Higher, Matty, higher!” she demanded as he pushed, his sneakers scuffing the ground.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said, giving her an extra big push until she was soaring, her giggles ringing out like bells. “Look at my little lady go!”

“Look at meeee!” she squealed, gripping the chains.

“I see you, princess! You’re flying!” Matt called, pretending to stumble back. “You’re gonna zoom right into the clouds!”

After what felt like forever—his arms were screaming—he clapped his hands. “Alright, monkey bar queen, show me what you’ve got.”

Eliana darted to the monkey bars, climbing the ladder with fierce determination. Matt stood below, arms out like a safety net. She grabbed the first bar, tongue poking out, then swung to the next, and the next, making it all the way across before dropping with a triumphant “Ta-da!”

“Did you see that, Matty?!” she beamed, hands on her hips.

“See it? Babe, I’m blown away!” Matt raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re the strongest little lady I know.”

She puffed out her chest. “I know.”

They spent another hour tearing around—Matt playing “monster” while Eliana shrieked and darted through the tunnels, her pigtails flying. She even roped in another kid to “trap” him on the bridge, and Matt flopped onto a bench after, panting dramatically.

“Timeout, princess,” he groaned, stretching out. “You’re too fast for me.”

She climbed up beside him, cheeks rosy. “You just need to run more, Matty,” she said, patting his arm like a tiny coach.

He groaned again, tipping his head back. “Knew you’d say that, babe.”

Stop #2: Ice Cream Shop

Next up was the ice cream parlor, its striped awning fluttering in the breeze. Inside, Eliana pressed her nose to the glass case, oohing at the scoops.

“Chocolate or vanilla, princess?” Matt asked, crouching beside her.

“Chocolate!” she chirped. “But not too much, Matty. Too much makes me crazy.”

Matt laughed, ruffling her hair. “Got it, little lady. One tiny chocolate scoop for my babe.”

He handed her a kid-sized cone and grabbed vanilla for himself, settling at an outdoor table. The sun was warm, and Eliana giggled as a pigeon waddled too close.

“Serious question, princess,” Matt said, leaning in. “Best ice cream flavor?”

She licked her cone, leaving chocolate on her nose. “Bubblegum.”

Matt scrunched his face. “Ew, babe.”

She gasped, clutching her cone. “Matty!”

“What? It’s toothpaste flavor, little lady!” he teased, chomping his vanilla.

She shook her head, giggling. “You don’t have good taste.”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Who picked your outfit today, princess?”

She pouted, glancing at her polka-dot shirt and striped leggings. “Me.”

“Exactly, babe.” He took a victorious bite while she laughed, smearing more chocolate on her chin.

Stop #3: The Pet Store

Eliana dragged Matt into the pet store next, her sneakers squeaking as she bolted for the kittens. “Look, Matty, look!” she squealed, smooshing her face against the glass. “They’re so tiny!”

Matt crouched beside her, grinning at a fluffy tabby. “Super cute, huh, babe?”

She nodded, naming them on the spot. “That’s Fluffy… that’s Princess… that’s Oreo!”

“Oreo’s a winner, little lady,” Matt said. “You’re a naming pro.”

She beamed, then hit him with the big eyes. “Can we get one, Matty?”

He scratched his neck. “Oof, that’s a mommy call, princess.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m telling Mommy we need one.”

Matt chuckled. “You go for it, babe. Tell me how it goes.”

She cooed at the kittens for ages, narrating their little tumbles while Matt snapped a photo—her hands on the glass, eyes sparkling.

Stop #4: Grocery Store Chaos

Eliana insisted on pushing the cart, her tiny hands gripping tight. Matt let her, because those puppy eyes were lethal.

It was chaos. She nearly toppled a cereal display—Matt caught the box just in time. Then she veered toward soup cans, and he dove to redirect her, laughing. “Easy, speed princess!”

An old lady chuckled nearby. “Hands full, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Matt grinned.

In the snack aisle, Eliana tossed Goldfish into the cart. As Matt grabbed juice, she tugged his sleeve. “Daddy, can we get the apple one?”

Matt froze, hand mid-air. The word hit soft and sweet, like a hug he didn’t expect. He turned, and her eyes were wide, panicked.

“Oh—Matty, I mean Matty!” she blurted, cheeks red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, hey, princess,” Matt said, crouching down, voice gentle as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. If that’s how you feel, I’m good with it. No apologies needed, little lady.”

She bit her lip, staring at her shoes. “But… you’re not my real daddy.”

His heart squeezed. He tilted her chin up. “Maybe not like that, babe, but I’m here for you, always. Call me Matty, Daddy, Captain Awesome—whatever feels right, princess.”

She giggled at “Captain Awesome,” tension fading. “You’re silly.”

“Only for you, little lady,” he said, booping her nose. She laughed, and he grabbed the apple juice. “Let’s roll before you crash again, babe.”

Back home, Eliana was toast—pigtails messy, shirt chocolaty, eyes drooping as Matt carried her in, her head on his shoulder.

You smiled from the couch. “Fun day, baby?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, snuggling closer. “Matty’s my best friend.”

Matt melted, kissing her head. “You’re mine too, princess.”

You took her, tucking her in as she drifted off. Back on the couch, Matt sprawled out, pulling you close. “That kid’s a whirlwind, babe.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Tell me about it.”

He traced circles on your shoulder, then hesitated, his voice softening. “Hey… big moment today.”

“Oh?” You looked up.

“Yeah,” he said, scratching his neck. “At the store, she called me ‘Daddy.’ Just slipped out.”

Your heart fluttered, a mix of surprise and warmth. “She did?”

“Yep. Freaked out after, apologized,” he said gently. “Told her it was fine—if she felt it, I was okay with it, babe. She said I wasn’t her ‘real daddy,’ and I told her I’d be here anyway, whatever she calls me. ‘Captain Awesome’ might’ve saved the day.”

You laughed, cupping his cheek. “That’s so sweet, Matt.”

He smiled, but his eyes flickered with something softer, more serious. “Felt nice, you know? That she’d even think it. But…” He paused, looking at you carefully. “I wanted to check with you. You okay with that, babe? Her calling me that? I’d never push it or anything—I just want it to be right for all of us.”

Your chest warmed at his thoughtfulness, and you squeezed his hand. “Matt, I love that she feels so safe with you. If she wants to call you that, and you’re okay with it, then I’m more than okay. You’re already her family in every way that matters.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a relieved, goofy grin spread across his face. “Yeah? Good. ‘Cause I’m in this for both of you, babe—little lady and all.”

You leaned up, kissing him slow and sweet. “We’re lucky to have you.”

He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Nah, I’m the lucky one, princess.”

And as you curled into him, you knew—he wasn’t just Matt. He was your rock, Eliana’s hero, and exactly where he belonged.

—

A/N- UGHHHH i’m feining for angst but i guessss ill let u guys have ur fluff. (this has been sitting in my drafts for exactly 14 hours.)

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho

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moon1833 · 9 months ago

Note

MORE INUMAKI PLSSSSSSSSS

Me and the other seven Inumaki fans jump for joy !!!! Thanks for requesting !

SEA OTTERS -INUMAKI TOGE

“Sea otters mate for life and hold hands to prevent themselves from being separated.”

⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙ ⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙ ⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙ ⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆˙ ⋆｡°✩ ✮⋆

He was too pretty for his own good. You knew it, like how you knew how to breathe. It was always there, but when you thought about it, you were forced into the realization. Inumaki Toge is beautiful.

There’s a soft glow stretching across his entire body from the tanks. They inclapse him in blue, and white light flickers around his face. The aquarium is large, and you two are the only people there.

There’s a thudding sense of a grade two curse, maybe a grade one. But besides that and the enclosures of marine life, you two are completely alone.

Even though this mission is particularly tricky, it calms you. You’re unsure if it’s the tranquility of the aquarium lights or the boy two steps in front of you.

“Toge.” You whisper, tugging on his uniform and nudging him further down the hallway. The curse is approaching.

Quickly, you grab onto him a bit more firmly, using your cursed technique to register the two of you invisible. To the curse, all that was left of either of you was the energy that lingered in your steps.

Invisible and perfectly still, you used your opportunity to get a good look at the curse. It wasn’t very big, but its limbs stretched wide, almost spider like as its torso twisted unnaturally. One leg tapped harshly on the glass, its wingspan larger than the hallway it was crawling down.

Toge grimaces beside you, his large distaste for insects shining through his half-covered face. You squeeze his bicep in comfort, using your other hand to make sure your knife was still there.

This job was more suited for you alone, but you were only a second grade, and Inumaki was a wonderful student to have with you. Still, for the plan you had formulated in your brain, you would need to get the boy to safety or use him as bait. You did not want to rely on the ladder.

As if reading your mind, he begins to sign to you. His fingers are quick and purposeful, a big improvement from when he started learning two years ago.

“I’ll be distraction.” He signs, a little broken but you understand him perfectly.

You shake your head in disagreement. “No.” You sign back, struggling to do so with one hand. “Let me get you to safety. I got this.”

Inumaki shakes his head wildly, but he has no choice when you force him down another hallway. He doesn’t walk happily, though. His arms are crossed until you find an empty room littered with security cameras.

“I can do this.” You whisper, finally dropping your hand. Your fingers burn at the loss of contact.

Inumaki looks at you and then rolls his eyes. You read him well. “I know you can but I’m not happy about it.”

“Look.” You point behind him to the security displays. “You’ll be able to see if I need backup. You know I’m visible on camera no matter what.”

He’s a bit more agreeable with the compromise, but he sticks to his habit anyway of hugging you before letting you leave.

Now that you were only focusing on yourself, your body fell invisible much easier, and your feet made no sound as you walked down the tile hallway.

The curse was almost exactly where you had first saw it, but its body was now facing the underground portion of the otter exhibit. Almost cutely, all eight of its eyes were stuck to the two as they swam by, hand in hand.

Beside the tank is a sign that you had read earlier, that sea otters mate for life and hold hands to prevent themselves from being separated. It almost looked like the creature was reading the sign.

You had to remind yourself this curse had strung up and drained the blood of three people before moving into action.

You sprinted, jumping on one of the tanks and flipping your body to get more height before landing on the spider-like curse, your dagger piercing it’s surprisingly hairy skin and dragging downward with you weight.

It screeches immediately, trying to throw you off its back and squirming at the same time. Its fangs twitch viciously, and it sprays some sort of liquid in the air that makes you involuntarily cover your mouth and nose.

With the advantage, the creature flings you off its back, and your body hits a wall harshly. You were sure if you had hit one of the glass tanks, it would have ruptured.

Weakened and coughing, your invisibility flickers, and the curse is charging at you. Barely, you doge in time, creating more distance between you.

Your knife is still lodged into its back. You need to get it back, and soon. You had other weapons, but that was your first choice, and a better assessed stab wound would’ve killed the curse, so you were a bit underprepared.

It charges at you again, and you jump, trying to land a swift kick to its torso while grabbing your weapon, but its upper body folds completely, fangs lunging at you while the blackest eyes you’ve ever seen stare at you.

Reflectively, you go invisible again, trying to lurch out of the way but the curse is quicker, spitting out web fluid and trapping you to the wall.

You curse under your breath, a bit disappointed in yourself at the outcome. Oh well, it wasn’t like you were going to die here.

You hear Inumaki’s footsteps before you see him, and you realize can’t turn your head. The web is stuck to your cheek, pinning you to the glass upside-down.

You cover your ears with cursed energy, something you had gotten very good at since befriending him all those years ago. “Go ahead, Toge!”

“Die!” You hadn’t expected that to be the command that fell from his pretty lips. Usually he relied on things like ‘explode’ or ‘freeze’, and would force an opening before exorcizing the curse. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him use something so straightforward before.

Regardless, there was a sickening sound of something wet, and then a thud. From the corner of your eye, you can see a heavy, black limb, but that’s it.

You breathe deeply, your airways finally free from whatever had sprayed you.

“Mustard leaf?” He asks, and you feel his presence get closer to you, his cursed energy tickling your stomach.

“I’m okay.” You reply. “Just kinda stuck to a wall with all the blood rushing to my head.”

Toge laughs, and you find yourself grinning, too.

He collects your knife, beginning to cut the webbing from your face first. He’s slow, and he lays a gentle hand on your jaw as he works.

The web isn’t as strong as you thought it would be, and soon you’re finally able to look around.

Now, you realize why Inumaki had panicked so much. The curse was much, much closer to you than you had originally thought, it’s fangs fully barred and hardly a meter away from you.

You can also now see the second year’s concern, his face so close to yours it makes you dizzy.

“Hey.” You say, a bit dumbly.

His jacket zipper is lowered to his collarbone, and even upside-down you appreciate the unfair attractiveness of the bottom half of his face.

He mouths back a small “hi” and it’s enough to make you chuckle.

He finishes cutting off the rest of the webbing, and you almost expected for him to let you fall to the floor with the last slash of your knife, but he doesn’t. Instead, he catches you with such ease it startles you, and you don’t miss his cocky smile at your expression.

You thank him when he puts you down, and you carefully step over the grossly hairy legs. Your eyes find the only witnesses to the event, a pack of cute, tiny little otters.

The smallest one, who looks to have been born no more than six months ago, peers down at you quizzically. Its mother is beside it, and you smile at the obscurity of it all.

Toge joins you, poking your shoulder and pointing to the left of you at another pair of otters. They looked to be cuddling, almost dancing as they swim across.

He taps you again before pointing to himself, then you, and then back to the otters. Your head tilts, wondering if you’re reading into the display too much or if he’s doing what you’re thinking.

“Toge, I think that sign says they’re mated for life.” You nudge.

He looks back at you, bashful while almost a little exasperated. It clicks in your brain.

“You’re adorable.” You coo, grasping his hand. He smiles, the cursed symbols on his cheek shifting. Without thinking, you kiss them, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

You pull away, Toge’s face red and erupted in shock. Even still, his hands are on your waist and are pulling you closer until he kisses you fully, your hands becoming tangled in his hair.

Rather suddenly, he steps back, lost in thought. You frown for a moment before he begins to sign.

“Can I please be your boyfriend.”

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#toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge smut #inumaki smau #inumaki fluff #inumaki x you #jjk inumaki #inumaki x y/n #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki toge #toge smau #toge smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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jobean12-blog · 2 months ago

Text

You and Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: ~600

Summary: It's just you and Joel...living in every moment you have.

Author's Note: I'm in my feels today and I heard the song "You and Me" by Lifehouse today and I've been thinking about the premiere of TLOU 2 tonight and I just don't know...I mean I know...but I don't. I'M FINE!...ugh. It's just a small blurb. Anyway, come feel stuff with me. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divide by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: There's a joke in here! And cookies! And softness but it definitely has an angsty feel-which is just mirroring my own feels.

💕PS NO spoilers obviously...

The streets are quiet as night approaches. Everyone is already locked up inside the promising safety of their houses.

You reach the edge of town and climb the ladder at the wall, careful with your footing, and when you reach the top you see him sitting on the small defensive outpost, only the shadows cast from the dying afternoon light surrounding him.

Step by quiet step, you make your way toward him, balancing the small paper plate in your hand and willing the wind not to rip it free.

“What are you doin’ out here darlin’?” he asks, his gaze focused on the expanse of land below.

You set the plate down and sit next to him.

“I made cookies.”

He glances at the cookies, then leans in and brushes his mouth over yours before grabbing one.

“Thank you.”

The cold seeps into your clothes and you note the heavy gray clouds moving in from the west.

“It’s already snowing over the mountains,” you say quietly. “I bet we get at least eight inches tonight.”

“Maybe more if you’re good.” The corners of his lips lift as he brings the cookie to his mouth.

“Did you just…make a joke? A dick joke?”

“You’re talkin’ about the weather,” he counters, taking a bite then holding it up to your mouth.

“Just thought you might want to talk about something…normal.”

You take the offered bite then watch him take another. A long moment passes before you rise to the challenge in his eyes and ask, “What are you out here thinking about?”

He’s quiet for so long the first flakes of snow start to descend, and you move the cookies out of the way to scoot closer to him, pressing yourself against his side.

“I’m scared.” His admission is all but a whisper and you tuck yourself closer.

He lifts his arm and curls it around you, the scruff on his jaw thick with days of unkempt growth and the coldness of his beard tickling your skin as he buries his face in your neck and breathes deeply.

You give him no reply because there isn’t one and when the cold finally chills you to your bones you both retreat, leaving whatever the future holds behind you as best you can.

The house is warm despite the chill still clinging to your body and when you come out of the bathroom to find him already in bed and waiting, it takes all your resolve not to throw yourself toward him.

He’s moved your discarded book to the nightstand, holding your page with one of his small knives. The thoughtfulness of his gesture makes a small smile play upon your lips.

He pulls the covers on your side away and holds them up.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now.” His voice softens to the tone he only ever uses with you, weakening your knees as he hovers over you and lowers his mouth to yours.

It’s a slow and gentle kiss but even so it heats you from the inside out and when he deepens the pressure you sigh into it, letting the rest of the world disintegrate around you.

Hours later, warm and sated, you lie awake in bed, the brightness of the blanket of snow outside the window making the walls in the room glow.

When you feel him shift and reach out you curl your body around his, and his arm wraps around your back and pulls you closer in a way that can only be described as instinctive, like he’ll be doing it for the next hundred years. You settle against his warmth and lay your head on his chest, above the most comforting sound in the world, his heartbeat.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou 2 #pedro pascal x reader

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austinbutlerslovers · 6 months ago

Text

Thankful

Label Mature 18+

Summary It’s your first big holiday with Austin and you have tasked yourself with planning a dinner to host all of his celebrity friends. Your nervousness keeps trying to get the better of you, but Austin is right there to keep you calm and grounded with his love and support.

Everything is falling into place until you discover his secret that sets your heart racing and leaves you wondering what’s to come.

💝Romantic Smut💝 Loving affectionate• romantic fluff• praises• can’t be without you• body worship•intuition• pleasure bonding• nipple play•clit play•fingering•missionary•overstimulation • orgasms•creampie •aftercare

🔗Master List

Thankful

The afternoon light filters warmly through the window, casting a soft glow across the room as Austin lifts another box, setting it down with a smile. “What’s next, babe?” he asks, his voice warm and steady which is a grounding presence in the whirlwind of pre-holiday nerves swirling inside you. It’s the first time you’ll be celebrating away from home due to his filming schedule.

You sift through the decorations spread out on the table—ornaments, garlands, golden candles—your fingers pausing over a wooden sign etched with the words, -Give Thanks Always - The sentiment stirs something in you as you trace the carved letters with a small smile. “Maybe this by the window?” you ask, tilting it up, to get his reaction.

Austin steps closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he surveys your choice. “That will look perfect,” he says, the approval warm in his voice. His hands slide down to gently squeeze your waist. “Every choice you’ve made is spot-on. You’ve got this holiday thing down .” He compliments.

A small grin spreads across your lips from his praises, though the tinge of uncertainty still lingers. You glance around his sleek New York condo, which feels a little intimidating. The modern furnishings, expansive windows overlooking the city, and the knowledge that all the guests tomorrow evening will be his celebrity friends only add to your nerves.

“I just want to make sure all of your friends are happy with everything—including…me,” you say, trying to sound lighthearted but unable to fully hide the worry of their approval in your voice.

He hears it immediately and turns you to face him, cupping your face with both hands. “Baby, listen to me,” he says, his voice quiet but firm as his eyes lock with yours, filled with unwavering reassurance.

“They’ll love you because you’re everything to me, and they’ll see that,” he says, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “I can’t wait for them to get to know the person who makes my life better every single day.”

Your lips smile slightly, as his words settle deep in your chest, chasing away the doubt. “You really think so?” you ask softly.

“I know so,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re going to charm them, just like you always charm me,” he says, full of affection.

You nod, a small smile spreading across your lips as you lean into him. “Thank you Austin,” you whisper.

“Always,” he replies and softly kisses you letting his words sink in as you feel the warmth and reassurance of his love melting away all your fears.

He pulls you into a hug, holding you close, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns along your back, and you feel your nerves subside, leaving behind a feeling of safety, and anticipation.

After arranging the last of the decorations, you start clearing the boxes, stacking them near the ladder to have Austin put them away in the storage closet. Wanting so save him time you climb up the step ladder holding a box of decorations, sliding it onto the shelf when your gaze catches a small, unassuming box tucked away behind some spare blankets.

Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, fingertips brushing over the smooth surface before you gently pry it open and feel your breath catch. Inside is a smaller, elegant box—a ring box. Your heart pounds as you stare at it, the implications nearly knocking you off balance.

You quickly steady yourself and open it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring nestled inside. The large stone sparkles brilliantly, set on a delicate platinum band adorned with smaller diamonds that catch the light like tiny stars. You quickly reseal the ring box and put everything back in its place knowing you shouldn’t have see it, but the image is imprinted in your mind, leaving your head swimming and your heart racing.

As you step down from the ladder, you catch sight of Austin coming into the hall, concern etched on his face. “Aw, baby, I wanted to take care of all those boxes. Some of those are so heavy,” he says, his voice soft as his eyes linger on your flushed cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod quickly, a little breathless, trying to calm the pounding in your heart. “Yeah…—I’m fine,” you reply, your voice softer than usual. “Y-yes some of them are too heavy I picked a lighter one,” you admit, hoping to blame your flustered state on the task.

Austin steps closer, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before an appreciative smile spreads across his face. “You’ve been working hard all day,” he says, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’ve really outdone yourself.” He says proudly.

You grin, melting into his embrace, your head tilting back to look at him adoringly. “I couldn’t do any of this without Austin,” you say appreciatively.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Baby, you’re the one who holds everything together for me, and that’s just one of the million things I love about you.”

Your heart flutters at his words as you glance up at him, knowing his little secret.

“Come on, let’s call it a night. I don’t want you wearing yourself out before tomorrow.” He says affectionately.

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner and a glass of wine, Austin takes your hand and leads you upstairs. As you enter the bedroom, he pulls you into his arms, his touch soft yet deliberate.

“You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, “I don’t think I tell you enough how lucky I am to have you. How beautiful you are. How much I love you.”

You grin, unable to hide the beaming smile spreading across your face. “Austin, you’re too much,” you whisper, your voice soft with affection.

“Never enough,” he murmurs, his voice low and rich, leaning in to kiss you. His lips are tender and unhurried, caressing yours as if he has all the time in the world. He deepens the kiss, slowly, passionately, building it in waves as his hands cradle your jaw, tilting your face to claim your mouth fully.

Without breaking the kiss his fingers trail down your shoulders, undoing the buttons of your top with deliberate precision. Each touch is accompanied by soft whispers, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. “You have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence. “Every curve, every inch of you is so beautiful to me.”

Your shirt slides off falling to the floor, followed by your bra as his hands glide across your bare skin, his touch making you shiver. His mouth follows the trail of his hands, kissing along your collarbone taking his time to worship every inch of exposed skin. You’re trembling already, your breaths hitching with each delicate press of his lips.

His fingers teasingly slide down to unfasten your jeans as he gently kisses your nipple.

He sucks tenderly, his lips warm and soft as he lavishes attention on one, then moves to the other with equal care.

Each tug is a gentle pull on your senses, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His hands roam as his mouth works, pulling your panties down inch by inch until you stand before him naked and trembling with anticipation.

You reach for his hands needing him desperately and he gently catches your wrists, bringing them to his lips. “I know baby,” he whispers, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to undress.

He pulls his sweater over his head, revealing the chiseled planes of his torso, his body strong and mesmerizing. His pants follow, and when he’s finally bare before you, the intensity of his hard cock makes your knees weak.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with a gentleness that steals your breath. You softly smile at each other as he leans over you, and then his lips find yours again, kissing you softly before trailing down your neck.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice heavy with emotion. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.” He says, placing tender kisses down your chest and lower down your stomach, his lips lingering there as your body arches toward him, trembling with need.

Your thoughts spiral as his lips move lower between your hips every kiss unraveling you piece by piece. You feel completely exposed, soft, and vulnerable in the most intoxicating way.

A soft, involuntary sound escapes your lips, a mixture of desperation and anticipation, your body trembling as he kisses your inner thighs. You tilt your hips ever so slightly toward him, silently begging for more. The ache inside of you growing unbearable, as a deep, throbbing need consumes you entirely.

By the time his mouth touches your clit, you’re already soaking wet, your body quivering under his touch. His tongue moves with maddening precision, swirling and flicking as his fingers slide deep inside you, filling you perfectly. The slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers send jolts of pleasure radiating through your core, each stroke igniting a new wave of heat.

Every flick of his tongue ever pull of his fingers pushes you closer to the edge, until you can’t hold back.

He presses his tongue harder and thrusts his fingers faster, curling just right, as a strange, keening moan slips from your lips. Your hands grip the sheets, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm rushes over you.

Wetness pools between your thighs as your body shudders uncontrollably, the slick sound of it only making you flush hotter, your breath hitching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Austin hums with appreciation, his mouth still working against your clit as he loses himself in the moment. “Baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers, his voice strained and filled with awe. “So perfect for me….” He praises his breaths shaky as his lips and tongue continue their relentless devotion.

His words only heighten the intensity, making your body quiver as aftershocks ripple through you, the slickness coating his fingers fueling his passion even further.

“So beautiful,” he whispers , his voice thick with emotion as he finally pulls back. His breaths ragged, his gaze burning with intensity as he looks at you, trembling and undone beneath him.

He places a kiss on your inner thigh, filled with reverence, before he rises over you. He slowly settles between your legs, his cock pressing against you as his chest brushes yours. His hands find your jaw, cradling your face as he kisses you deeply.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips his voice filled with emotion as he gently pushes his hips forward, his cock gliding into you inch by inch.

The sensation is overwhelming—your entrance so wet, so soft, your walls eagerly glide his thick cock in to you, the slick heat wrapping around him perfectly. The slow stretch around his size only heightens your pleasure, making every inch feel more intimate, more intense.

A deep moan escapes his lips as your bodies press together completely. Your walls grip him tightly, the fullness of his cock sending a shiver through you, the wetness gliding his thrusts effortlessly as you gasp in pleasure beneath him.

He doesn’t rush, his thrusts are slow and steady, his lips finding yours again as he his cock presses your sweet spot between kisses.

“You feel so incredible, baby,” he praises, his voice trembling with desire as his body moves against yours. Each thrust, each kiss, is filled with his devotion, making the moment so tender, so passionate, you feel overwhelmed with emotion.

His hand cradles your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his hips pull back and thrust into you again, and again, each motion deliberate and deep, making your pulse race. His lips find your throat, pressing hot, lingering kisses against your skin as his pace quickens, the intensity of his need matching your own.

You can’t contain the sounds escaping your lips—soft moans that turn into desperate, breathless cries. Your hips rise instinctively to meet his, each thrust igniting sparks inside you, the tightness in your core building rapidly, teetering on the edge.

Sensing your need, Austin grips your hips, tilting his own to hit the perfect spot again and again. Your walls flutter around him with each deep thrust, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The tension coils tighter and tighter until your body can’t hold back any longer.

His voice is breathless as it breaks through the haze. “That’s it, baby. Let go for me. Come for me. I’ve got you,” he whispers, and your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your muscles tightening around him as a rush of pleasure explodes through you, leaving you gasping.

Your back arches off the bed as his name falls from your lips in a desperate cry, your fingers clutching his shoulders as aftershocks ripple through your body.

Austin groans deeply, his movements faltering as your climax pushes him to his own. He kisses you fiercely, his lips catching your cries as he continues to thrust until you feel the hot rush of his come spilling inside you.

He moans deeply against your lips, his breath shuddering as his thrusts soften, letting you feel every last pulse of his pleasure as it merges with your own.

The combination of your orgasms and the lingering aftershocks leave you both trembling, your breaths mingling as you come down from the overwhelming high.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly, his voice heavy with emotion as his hands gently stroke your skin, holding you close.

“I love you too,” you reply softly, your voice filled with all the love and trust you feel in his embrace.

The rest of the night is spent with his arms wrapped around you, filled with love and reverence. His affection making you feel cherished and completely his as though nothing else in the world exists but the two of you.

The next evening, the condo buzzes with energy as his friends from the city begin to arrive. The smell of roasting turkey fills the air as everyone brings dishes to accompany the feast—platters of roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, casseroles and freshly baked pies cover the counters.

You flit around the kitchen, trying to make sure everything is perfect. The stress of hosting weighs on you, but Austin is a calming presence, stepping in to help whenever he sees you getting overwhelmed. He sneaks behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “You’re doing amazing. Everyone’s loving it.” His reassurance soothes you, and by the time dinner is served, the table is brimming with delicious food and lively conversation, accompanied by the clinking of glasses.

Seated at the head of the table across from you Austin looks devastatingly handsome in a dark sweater that hugs his broad shoulders perfectly. He watches you with an affectionate smile, his gaze warm and steady as the evening unfolds. After a moment, he rises from his chair with a wine glass in hand, drawing the room’s attention.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Austin asks, his voice steady and warm as the chatter fades and all eyes turn to him. He looks at you, his expression softening with affection.

“This year has been one of the best of my life,” he begins. “And it’s not because of everything I’ve done. It’s also because of her.” He nods toward you, his gaze locking with yours as awes of admiration spread through the room.

“I just want to say how thankful I am that we can gather here together this evening, and for this incredible woman who somehow made it all look effortless.” He says gracefully.

Words of approval and nods spread around the table as everyone turns to look at you and you can’t help but smile,your cheeks flushing under the attention.

“She’s the reason every place I go feels like home. She’s the reason I smile every single day. She’s the love of my life.”

The room hums with awe’s as everyone nods and smiles in agreement, their expressions warm. Your heart swells at his words, each one feeling personal and intimate as you gaze at him lovingly.

He raises his glass, his eyes still on you. “So let’s all cheers and give thanks for love, for friendship, and for the people who make life worth living.”

The room bursts into cheers and applause, the sound filling the space as glasses clink and laughter follows. As Austin sits down after the toast the warmth of the moment is still buzzing in the air as you meet his gaze across the table. His eyes are soft, filled with love and unspoken emotion, and your heart races as his words echo in your mind.

He smiles warmly, and there’s an anticipation in his expression that makes your heart flutter. You secretly know what he’s waiting for, and the thought makes you grin. He’s eager to pop the question soon, and he’s waiting for the perfect day.

You hold his gaze, feeling a spark of excitement build in your chest. The promise in his eyes leavening you giddy with anticipation for what’s to come.

🍁 END

🔗 Master List

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @psycheetamore @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @missjadesficsreblog @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @ifuckindontknow @jjubilee-fluff

#austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler smut fic #fanfic #Austin butler x #austin butler x you #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler imagine #holiday #kinksgiving 2024

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amellderiva · 2 months ago

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Just saw the thousandth "Rook isn’t a better person than Solas, they have no right to judge him" argument (without even acknowledging the whole Titans fiasco at all, of course, business as usual), and while I can mostly look the other way when I see opinions that oppose mine (or try to start a polite debate if I’m feeling particularly brave, which I usually don't), this one was so vitriolic that it actually hit me.

I don’t want to go too deep into the Rook vs. Solas moral debate, because if you don’t see how genocide automatically puts your favorite character a few steps down on the morality ladder compared to the poor bastard who maybe used to be a thief or a murderer, then it’s already a moot point. But seriously – why do people hate their own Rooks so much?

I understand not fully clicking with them; I had that issue with my Inquisitor at first, when the game gave me dialogue option after dialogue option that just wasn’t what I wanted to say. But if anything, the Inquisitor’s case taught me that I shouldn’t go into an RPG expecting it to bend to my every whim and desire. I should design my character around the game, not the other way around. And, wonder of wonders, with that mindset, I came to like – and even love – my Inquisitor. (Sure, the ten years I spent filling in the gaps probably helped too, but still.)

So why doesn’t Rook get the same grace from people? Even if you blame them for making things worse by disturbing the ritual with that pillar (again, without acknowledging that Solas is the one who started the ritual in the first place, with zero regard for construction site safety, lol), how come you can’t find it in yourself to look for something redeemable in a character who’s obviously new at this and straining to satisfy the expectations put on them? Someone you’ve spent forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, or more hours with? Whose biggest widespread criticism is literally that they’re too kind?

What is so hateable about this character? And why is it always the same group of people yelling the loudest?

I’m genuinely curious, if anyone has any insight or ideas – what’s behind all of this?

#dragon age #veilguard #datv #rook #fandom critical #dragon age fandom critical #text post #opinion piece #i'm estabilishing the rook protection services #joining requires saying five positive things about rook #critique is acceptable #but only in a constructive form

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mohammeddd-4 · 7 months ago

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Plz don't skip, we need your help....💔🙏🏼🍉🌸

I am Sadi from Gaza, from a family of 6, an accountant, graduated from University of Palestine. I climbed the ladder to build my life and future step by step, but everything ended and was destroyed because of the war.

I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever. My family and I left our home for another place to find safety, hoping to return soon, but that was not to be. Our home was besieged and then completely destroyed. Our home, once a bastion of hope, now lies in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dream

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.

We urgently appeal for your moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs for escaping to a safe environment, where we can build a better future for our children and ensure our family's safet

We are in desperate need of your support. Any donation, no matter how small, can help save our lives. Thank you for your attention and support during these harsh times.

The link is in the bio and here 👇🏼

https://gofund.me/599276ca

#free palestine #gaza #free gaza #all eyes on palestine #homeless

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mohammadd-66 · 7 months ago

Text

Plz don't skip, we need your help.... 💔🙏

We are in desperate need of your support. Any donation, no matter how small, can help save our lives. Thank you for your attention and support during these harsh times.

The link is in the bio and here 👇🏼

https://gofund.me/599276ca

#free palestine #free gaza #all eyes on palestine #gaza #homeless

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blackwell-ninja · 7 months ago

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Let’s Show the Foreseer some Love

🔞MDNI: EXPLICIT ❌

Characters; Zayne (Foreseer)/Reader (Female Presenting)

Features: Cunnilingus, Semi-public sex (Not that there was anyone to see anyway)

Makes Paintings with His Tongue

The Foreseer looked quite different from this angle. His arms gripping the edge of the bookcase ladder with force you were worried it would break. His breath heavy on your stomach.

A precarious position that was too heated, it may melt the cold air around you.

Eventually he looked up at you, his gaze wild as it met your own.

You were simply looking at the books in his library. He wasn’t even anywhere nearby that you could tell when your foot slipped. But all of a sudden he grabbed the ladder and silently caught you.

“You’re so careless.” he said eventually, very little edge in his voice as he brushed some hair from your face. “You don’t even think about any danger that you’re in.” He scowled as you thought about saying anything back to him before his lips crashed into yours, but it was more gentle than you would have believed.

And it felt so warm, that you dropped the book so your hand could grip into his hair and you could swear you heard him growl.

When you pulled back from him and his face was flushed you felt your heart skip a beat, in a way that was not expected.

“I won’t apologize,” He said.

“You don’t have too.” You responded. He smirked moving his hands to your hips and leaned to your neck.

“But I do think I need to teach you a lesson about safety. If you’re going to stay here.” His hands grabbed your skirts. Ruffling them up a little bit so his hands could touch your bare thighs.

You shivered a little at the cool touch mixed with pain as he sucked on your neck. Leaving a bruise. “I’m not going to be gentle either. You’ve been breaking a lot of rules here.”

You whined as his hands groped and explored until finding the piece of fabric covering your sex. Wet and needy already. That earned a chuckle from The Foreseer. No. Zayne. You knew that now.

You felt him take a step down on the ladder as his finger pushed the fabric aside to begin rubbing your folds earning a deep moan from him that had your eyes flutter closed. “Good girl. So needy already. I wonder how you taste.”

He took your hips bucking as a positive response so he began kissing up your leg using his free hand to bunch up your skirts so his lips and mouth could explore more freely.

He pulled your undergarments down to your ankles as he pushed your hips to sit on the small step, manhandling you to put your knee over his shoulder. His hands on your hips and his lips kissing both thighs before he began to lick and suck with fervor, gentle languid strokes at first, as you both groaned in harmony.

You did attempt to move at first, and it earned him pushing you back feeling tormented by his slow pace. “I’m going to take my time, flower.” He looked up at you. “You need to learn some patience.”

“Zayne, please.” You said tearfully. Which made him groan in response. So you tested it again. “Zayne.” You put your hands in his hair tugging.

You could feel him pick up the pace then swirling his tongue inside your sex and a hand moved to pinch and run your clit. Which felt electric under your skin fighting against his hold to grind on his face.

To get any purchase you wrapped your legs tightly around his head as you felt your release coming closer to its peak. And all it took was one more groan from him to vibrate through you to bring it forward and he ate it up happily.

You felt him release you and looked at you mischievously. “Good.” He wrapped you up in his arms. “Now lets go onto the next lesson.”

You’re almost grateful for that bookcase ladder.

taglist: @getoslamb

#love and deepspace #fanfic #x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #lnds #foreseer #the ginger speaks

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tune-on-in-folks · 8 months ago

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Day seven! Wow, a week! I actually kind of like this one, something about this prompt was just fun to me.

Tags/Warnings: Accidental stimulation, public sex(?), public masturbation(?), mutual pining, talk about soul contracts, Vox tries to get you to sign a soul contract, cums in his pants instead, public humiliation(?), no pronouns or gendered terms for once! Word Count: 2,276

Accidental Stimulation: Vox x Reader

You had painstakingly climbed the corporate ladder of VoxTek Enterprises. Your path to becoming Vox’s assistant was one you had carved out for yourself with determination and your excellent work ethic. You had never missed a day, working even when you were sick, most of the time from home. You were never late and often stayed later than your scheduled shift. Like in life, you lived to do something. And if that was doing a job, then you’d do it. Especially if it meant you got to work for the CEO of Voxtek himself. The Overlord was an enigma, one that you were intrigued by.

Coincidentally, you were also an enigma to Vox. You hadn’t signed a contract with him, nor his fellow Vees. As far as he could tell, you owned your own soul. Yet you hadn’t missed a single day in the two years you had been working at his company. Did you get sick? Even he got sick, and had to begrudgingly take days off. And the way you climbed the corporate ladder? Mind-boggling. You were an enigma, one that Vox wanted to crack. So when he had the opportunity, he promoted you to be one of his many assistants.

He didn’t think too much about how your presence seemed to calm him. How the two of you could bounce ideas off of one another. Talk and laugh for hours… How he would request your presence more and more. If he didn’t think about it, then it wasn’t happening, and therefore did not exist. Though he was acutely aware of these growing feelings for you. Deep down, he was terrified of you leaving, moving on to something bigger and better. He was terrified of you leaving him. So he decided to ask you to sign a contract with him, not expecting you to say anything but yes.

“Absolutely not.” You deadpan, ignoring the digital contract he had drawn up for your soul.

He chuckled, the sound low and full of disbelief, slightly hurt by your refusal. “I’m sorry?”

You stood up from across his desk, taking a deep breath, “I’m not going to give you my soul, Sir.”

He stood up as well, following you around his desk. His eyes narrowed as you turned your back to him, walking down the catwalk towards the doors.

He spoke your name, his voice firm. The tone he used sent a shiver down your spine, causing you to stop in your walk. You looked back at him, meeting his gaze. There was a lot going on in his eyes, a mix of emotion you couldn’t quite identify.

You spoke first, your voice slightly strained. “Don’t ask me for my soul, Vox.”

He stiffened as though you had struck him. His name falling from your lips in that tone, had his chest squeezing in discontent. He cleared his throat, his suave mask slipping back into place as he smirked.

“I’m not asking for your soul, I just want you to re-sign your contract for next year.” He lied, taking a step towards you.

Annoyance flashed through you as you saw right through him. Frowning, you turn away from him again. Your pace quickens, a strange feeling of sadness filling you. That wasn’t something you exactly wanted to think about or even attempt to unpack. The doors opened in front of you, letting you slip past.

You were just at the elevator when Vox caught up to you. His hand circling around your wrist, tugging lightly. Enough to get your attention but not to hurt.

Your name falls from his lips again, spoken softly. Almost sweetly. “Think of it as safety.”

Your brows knit together as you pull your hand from his grasp. “Safety from what?”

He opens his mouth to answer but the elevator opens and you get on. Vox clenches his jaw and follows after you, glowering at the other sinner on the elevator. You let out a soft sigh in relief, if someone else was near, then Vox wouldn’t be able to talk to you about any contracts. It was a moment of reprieve that you hope lasts. You reached for the buttons at the same time Vox did. Your hands brushed briefly. You selected your floor while he selected the penthouse. His eyes never left you as he did so. You tried your best to ignore his stare.

A few floors up and the elevator opened to reveal a gaggle of sinners all waiting to get on. You stiffened, not fond of what was about to happen. Vox took a step back, his hand resting on your hip as he dragged you against him. You shoot a glare up at him, but his attention is on the sinners loading into the elevator. It didn’t take you long to realize that Vox seemed uncomfortable. You raised an eyebrow, a smirk taking over your face. You didn’t like how packed the elevator was either. But at least he was suffering. It served him right for trying to get you to sign a soul contract.

The elevator, all loaded, jolted to a start. Lurching beneath the weight for a moment before resuming its path as normal. The sensation made your stomach flip, a shiver of apprehension shooting through you. You pressed back against Vox subconsciously. Vox glanced down at you, his brows furrowed as he caught sight of your smirk.

Vox leaned down slightly, whispering into your ear. “Something amusing, doll?”

A shiver ran up your spine, your body tensing against him. His voice did sinful things to your body, not that you’d ever admit that to yourself, or him for the matter.

You leaned back to reply in a low murmur, “Your face.”

He scowled, not having expected that from you, his claws flexing against your hip. You giggled softly, raising a hand to cover the sound. Vox pulled you closer against him. His breath hitched at the sudden sensation of his cock pulling against his boxers and slacks. The sudden stimulation, paired with you pressing back against him, had his cock twitching to life. You hadn’t seemed to notice, which meant that no one else in the hell-forsaken elevator had noticed either. He tentatively moved, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Again his boxers and slacks pulled across his member, stimulating him. His cock twitched again, gradually getting harder. He swallowed back a groan at the sensation, hoping beyond hope that you hadn’t noticed his growing arousal.

The elevator jerked again, the movement stimulating him even further. Vox’s claws dug deeper into your hip causing you to hiss out in pain. The sound caught his attention. He quickly relaxed his grip, murmuring, “sorry,” as he tried to step away from you. You lose your balance at his sudden withdrawal, crashing back against him. Vox has no choice but to catch you, his hand flexing, squeezing your hip. He was certain you had felt his hard-on pressing against your back. But if you had, you made no signs of it. You said nothing, your face staying in a state of perpetual annoyance at the elevator being so packed. Vox couldn’t help himself, rolling his hips forward slightly. His eyes fluttered shut at the delicious drag against his cock, the feeling of you pressed against his chest. His breathing was getting quicker, though he tried to hide it. If he wasn’t as aroused as he was, he would have felt ashamed.

He was in a packed elevator, getting off to the feeling of you pressed against him. His hand flexed around your hip again, catching your attention as Vox used you as a stress ball. You glance up at your boss, seeing his eyes close as he steadies his breathing. You watch him for a few moments, faintly aware of the elevator stopping. The doors open and quite a few sinners get off. The elevator felt less cramped. You breathe a little easier, feeling the throes of sinners thin. Still Vox keeps you held against him. Not that you mind too much. Despite your annoyance with him trying to get you to sign your soul to him. He was oddly endearing. That’s what you told yourself anyway, refusing to unpack the deeper feelings lying just beneath the surface.

Your gaze returns forward again, watching the floors tick by. More sinners get out, the numbers dwindling. Vox rolls his hips against you again, this time you feel his movement, casting a curious glance up at him. His eyes flicker open, catching your eyes. His pupils are slightly blown out and the way he looks down at you can only be described as sinful. A thrill runs through your body, your face flushing with heat. You bite your lip, unsure if you should say anything or not. Ask him why he was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. But the elevator came to another stop. Some sinners got off, more got on. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions to yourself for the time being.

Vox felt you step closer once more as more sinners got onto the elevator. You shifted from foot to foot, an obvious nervous tick. But he wasn’t exactly paying attention to why you were shifting. What he was paying attention to was how great it felt. Your continued movement was stimulating him far more than anything else had up to that point. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to his release. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize what was happening was only making it more alluring. Getting off against you- in a slightly less packed elevator- was exhilarating. His breath hitched again, his cock twitching insistently.

That you felt, your brows furrowing as you tried to figure out what exactly it was. The doors opened, all but one sinner got off. You moved your hand behind you, feigning an itch. Your hand grazed against Vox’s hard-on straining painfully against his slacks. Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your face as the realization hit you. Your eyes shot up to Vox, finding him already watching you. His gaze told you that he knew you knew. The doors opened and the sinner got off.

Leaving you both alone together.

For a moment you just stood there, wide eyed. Vox’s hand was still on your hip, keeping you pressed against him.

“S-Sir?” You whispered.

The elevator doors opened on your floor. Then closed. The ascent continued towards the penthouse.

His voice was husky, full of lust. “See what you do to me?” He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, his breathing ragged.

He was so close it was almost shameful. He was about to cum himself like he was going through puberty all over again.

“Vox..” You breathe, unsure of where this was going.

You were unsure of where you wanted it to go. Vox was an enigma, one you had wanted to solve. You hadn’t expected yourself to get tangled up in the man himself. But you couldn’t deny the way your heart beat faster, the way that warmth curled in your core. Minutes ago he had been trying to get you to sign a soul contract with him. Now he was moments away from cumming, all because of the accidental stimulation you had provided. You took a step away from him, turning to face him. You saw the way his gaze darkened, the sense of loss that came off him in waves. You took a deep breath, reaching forward to cup his erection through his pants.

Vox inhales sharply, his hips rolling against your hand. A shameless moan falls from his lips, his eyes watching you intensely. After a moment you tear your eyes away from his tented pants to meet his eyes. Before you could speak, he moved, capturing your lips with his. He rolls his hips against your hand as you kiss him back. You squeeze his cock lightly, Vox’s hips jerking against your touch. You remove your hand long enough to slip your hand down his slacks. You bite back a moan at the warmth of his cock against your hand. Your fingers delicately close around him, trailing up and down, in slow, languid strokes.

“Fuck!” He cries out, his hips rolling against your touch.

He rutted against your hand, chasing his release, his breathing heavy. He came with a groan, his chest heaving. You watched as he came undone beneath your touch, the thrill of making him cum by barely touching him, was a high you didn’t want to forget. A high you wanted more of. You slowly withdrew your hand from his pants. The elevator opened up to the penthouse. Vox took a step towards you and you took a step back. Letting him walk you backwards into the penthouse. Your back hit the kitchen island, a gasp slipping from your lips. Vox leaned in, both of his arms closing around you. He pinned you against him and the island, his eyes wild with desire. He pressed his hips against you, his arousal not fading despite having just cum.

“I propose a new deal.” He mutters, his gaze flickering down your body. “No contract, just us.”

You quirk an eyebrow, feeling him undress you with his eyes. “I’m listening.”

He smiles, his grin cocky and bleeding confidence. It was a smile that had heat pooling between your legs. A smile that had your heart skipping a beat. Whatever came from this night, nothing would ever be the same again. So you welcomed it with open arms, pulling Vox down into a searing kiss.

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