#my back hurts my neck hurts but it was worth it

[rmview]

they try to win you back, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys try to win you back after a fight/break up! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — mentions of past fights, reconciliation and fluff.

bang ღ chan

bang chan wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially when it came to you. after the breakup — a fallout caused by his relentless work schedule and lack of communication — he knew he’d messed up. but when you finally agreed to give him another chance, he vowed not to let you go.

bangchan started small. one morning, you woke up to a playlist he had sent you titled “for my love,” filled with songs that reminded him of you. the accompanying message read: “just a little something to start your day. i’m still learning how to do better, but i’ll make it worth it. – chan.”

later that week, he surprised you with a handwritten letter. the envelope smelled faintly of his cologne, and inside, his neatly written words laid bare his heart. he wrote about how he’d never stopped loving you, how the breakup had forced him to reflect on his mistakes, and how he wanted to be the kind of partner you deserved.

“have you been sleeping better?” he asked one evening when he showed up at your door with a basket of your favorite snacks and a plush blanket. “i remember you saying the nights feel colder now. thought this might help.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, despite trying to keep your guard up. “thanks, chan,” you said, accepting the basket.

his smile was soft but tinged with nervousness. “i know actions speak louder than words,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “so i’m going to keep showing you how much you mean to me.”

one night, he invited you over to the studio where he spent countless hours. the space felt intimate, with dim lighting and a cozy setup. “i wrote something for you,” he said shyly, gesturing to the microphone.

as the music filled the room, his voice poured out lyrics that spoke of regret, hope, and an unwavering love. when the song ended, he turned to you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “that’s how i feel,” he said softly. “i hope i can keep showing you, every day, just how much you mean to me.”

felix ღ

felix had always been the sunshine in your life, but after the breakup, you noticed his light dimmed. when you finally agreed to give him another chance, felix made sure he poured his heart into showing how much you meant to him, determined not to make the same mistakes again.

the first sign of his efforts came in the form of baked goods. one evening, after a long day, you came home to a neatly wrapped box on your doorstep. inside were cookies shaped like little hearts, each one perfectly frosted. a note attached to the box read: “i know i hurt you, but i’m not giving up on us. let me make things right. – felix.”

the following weekend, he invited you over to his place. the moment you walked in, you were greeted by the warm aroma of vanilla and butter. felix stood in the kitchen, wearing an apron dusted with flour, a sheepish grin on his face. “i thought we could bake together,��� he said, holding up a whisk.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “you’re really trying, huh?”

“i have to,” he admitted, his voice soft but earnest. “you’re everything to me, and i won’t lose you again.”

as the two of you mixed dough and laughed over his attempts to juggle eggs (which ended in a sticky mess), felix stole small glances at you, his heart swelling at every smile he managed to coax from you and how easily your guard managed to lower.

later that evening, as you sat on the couch sharing a plate of freshly baked cookies, he turned to you, his deep voice filled with sincerity. “i’m not perfect, but i promise to keep trying for you — for us. you’ve always believed in me, and now it’s my turn to prove that i’m worth it.”

the most touching gesture came one rainy afternoon. felix surprised you with a scrapbook he had been working on — a collection of photos, handwritten notes, and little mementos from your time together. on the last page, he had written: “our story isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. i want to keep writing it with you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he took your hand. “i know i hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “but i love you more than anything, and i’ll spend every day proving that to you.”

lee ღ know

lee know had never been one for grand gestures, but when it came to making things right with you, he found himself stepping outside his comfort zone. the breakup had been his fault — his blunt words and tendency to shut down during arguments had driven a wedge between you. when you agreed to give him another chance, he knew he had to approach things differently.

the first sign of his efforts came subtly. one morning, you found a neatly packed lunch waiting for you at work, complete with a note that read: “eat well. i know i didn’t always take care of you like i should have, but i want to do better. – minho.”

later that week, he surprised you by showing up at your favorite café. “thought you might like some company,” he said casually, sliding into the seat across from you. but the way his eyes lingered on you betrayed the nonchalance in his tone.

over time, his gestures grew more personal. one evening, he invited you over to his apartment. when you arrived, you found the place meticulously decorated with fairy lights and a small spread of your favorite dishes on the table.

“you cooked?” you asked, surprised by the spread as the warm scent made you smile.

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said simply, pulling out a chair for you. “i know i’m not the best at saying how i feel, but i hope this shows you.”

as the two of you ate, minho watched you closely, his usual sharp demeanor softened considerably. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said suddenly. “about how i didn’t handle things the way i should have. i’m not good with words, but i need you to know that i’m trying.”

the dinner together was amazing and true to his words, he brought you to the dance studio where he spent most of his time one day, a glint in his eyes. “i have something to show you,” he said, his tone almost shy.

he played a track and began to dance, every movement purposeful and filled with emotion. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen before; raw, vulnerable, and completely open. when the music stopped, he stood before you, slightly out of breath.

“this is how i express myself best,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “i don’t want to lose you again. i’ll keep trying to be better, for both of us.”

hyun ღ jin

hyunjin had always been passionate, wearing his heart on his sleeve. but that same intensity had been the cause of your breakup. so when you decided to give him another chance, hyunjin knew he couldn’t rely on words alone to win you back.

the first time he saw you again after the breakup, he showed up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. but these weren’t just ordinary flowers — they were intricately painted on a canvas he had spent hours creating. “i wanted to give you something that lasts,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “like how i hope we will.”

hyunjin’s gestures were deeply personal. one evening, he invited you to his art studio, where a single easel stood in the center of the room. “i’ve been working on something,” he said, motioning for you to sit.

you watched as he unveiled a portrait of you, painted in soft, dreamy hues that captured the way he saw you — radiant and full of warmth. “this is how i see you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “even when we were apart, you were always in my heart.”

you were touched to nearly the point of tears, as his sincerety was making it harder to keep your guard up. another night, hyunjin surprised you with a private dance performance. he led you into a dimly lit studio, where soft music played in the background. “this is for you,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours before the music swelled.

every movement of his dance told a story — of regret, love, and a desperate desire to make things right. as he finished, his chest heaved from exertion, but his gaze never wavered. “i’ve made mistakes,” he admitted, stepping closer to you. “but i’m learning. you’re the one i want to share my life with, and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

hyunjin also made an effort to handle conflict differently. one evening, when a small disagreement arose, he surprised you by calmly sitting down and saying, “let’s talk about this. i don’t want us to go back to how things were before.”

his growth, combined with his heartfelt gestures, slowly chipped away at the walls you had built around your heart. hyunjin knew it would take time, but he was willing to be patient. after all, loving you was worth every effort.

i.n ღ

i.n had always been mature for his age, but the breakup — caused by his occasional aloofness and failure to recognize how much you needed reassurance — had shaken him to his core. though when you agreed to give him another chance, he knew he couldn’t take it for granted.

the first sign of his determination came when he surprised you with something simple yet meaningful: a framed photo of the two of you from happier times. he handed it to you one evening, his expression both nervous and hopeful. “i wanted to remind you of what we’re working towards,” he said softly. “this is the version of us i want to get back to.”

from that moment on, i.n’s actions spoke louder than any apology he could offer. he started paying closer attention to the little things that made you happy. one afternoon, he showed up at your place with a playlist he had carefully curated. “these songs remind me of you,” he explained, plugging in his headphones to share the music with you. as you listened together, he held your hand, a quiet promise in the way his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin.

his gestures extended to your everyday life. knowing how stressful your days could be, i.n would occasionally leave you handwritten notes in your bag or on your desk, each one filled with words of encouragement and love. “you’re doing amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you in my life,” one note read.

but i.n’s biggest gesture came one weekend when he surprised you with a small picnic at a secluded park. the spread included all your favorite foods, and he had even learned how to make one dish from scratch. “it’s not perfect,” he admitted with a shy laugh as you tasted it, “but i figured you deserved the effort.”

as the evening wore on and the sun set, he turned to you, his eyes earnest. “i know i’ve hurt you,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “but i’m learning to be better, and i’ll never stop trying. you mean too much to me.”

his sincerity and consistent efforts slowly began to rebuild the trust between you, showing you that he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right.

han ღ

han wasn’t one to do things halfway, whether it was his music, his humor, or his love for you. the breakup had left him heartbroken, but when you gave him a second chance, he threw himself into proving that he was worthy of your trust.

his first move was to apologize in a way that only han could: through music. late one evening, he sent you a voice note. the melody was soft and heartfelt, and the lyrics spoke of regret, love, and the hope of a new beginning. at the end of the recording, his voice came through, unpolished and raw. “i wrote this for you. it’s not perfect, but neither am i. i just… i want to make you smile again.”

from then on, han made a point to be present in your life in ways that mattered. he started showing up to your favorite café during your lunch breaks, bringing little treats he knew you loved. “thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he’d say with a cheeky grin, placing a pastry and your favorite drink in front of you.

one evening, he invited you to the studio where he worked. “i want to show you something,” he said, leading you inside. on the wall was a collection of sticky notes, each one with a memory, a thought, or something he loved about you. “this is my reminder,” he explained, “of why i can’t mess this up again.”

despite his playful nature, han wasn’t afraid to get serious when it came to making amends. during a quiet moment one night, he looked at you, his usual mischievous expression replaced with a rare vulnerability. “i know i joke around a lot,” he said, his voice soft, “but you’re the most important person in my life. i’ll spend every day proving that i’m worth this second chance.”

han also worked hard to communicate better, often catching himself when he started to get defensive or overwhelmed. “wait,” he’d say during a disagreement, taking a deep breath. “let’s figure this out. i don’t want us to fall apart again.”

with every sweet gesture and heartfelt conversation, han slowly reminded you of why you had fallen for him in the first place, proving that even the most impulsive hearts could learn to love with patience and care.

seung ღ min

seungmin wasn’t the type to let emotions cloud his logic, but the breakup had been a wake-up call. when you decided to give him another chance, seungmin didn’t take it lightly. he knew he couldn’t rely on his usual reserved nature; he had to show you how much you meant to him.

the first sign of his effort came subtly. he started paying attention to the smallest details about you, things you thought he might not have noticed. one morning, you found your favorite drink waiting for you on your desk, a neat note attached: “thought you could use a boost. have a good day. – seungmin.” it was practical, understated, and so very him.

a few days later, he surprised you with something more personal. “i know i’m not great at saying how i feel,” he said one evening, handing you a leather-bound journal. inside were pages filled with his handwriting — entries where he reflected on your time together, what he had learned, and the moments he cherished most. “this is me trying to do better,” he admitted, his voice steady but his eyes vulnerable. “you deserve to know how much i care.”

seungmin also worked on being more emotionally available. during quiet evenings together, he would ask how you were feeling, genuinely listening and responding with thoughtful insight. “i want to understand you better,” he’d say, his tone sincere. “i don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

his biggest gesture came one chilly evening when he invited you to a quiet spot by the river, where a small portable speaker played a playlist he’d curated just for you.

as the two of you sat wrapped in a blanket he’d brought, seungmin turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically tender. “i know i’ve been distant before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but i’m here now, and i’ll keep being here — for as long as you’ll let me.”

chang ღ bin

changbin had always been passionate — sometimes to a fault. the breakup, caused by his tendency to act out of frustration and say things he didn’t mean, had left him devastated. when you gave him another chance, he threw himself into showing you how much you meant to him, channeling his fiery energy into thoughtful gestures.

the first thing he did was apologize, not just with words but with actions. one day, you came home to find a handwritten letter on your table, accompanied by a small box of your favorite snacks. the letter read: “i know i’ve hurt you, and i’ll never stop trying to make it up to you. thank you for giving me another chance. – binnie.”

changbin also started showing up for you in ways he hadn’t before. if you mentioned being stressed at work, he’d surprise you with a quick visit, bringing something small to cheer you up. “i figured you might need a break,” he’d say, his boyish grin disarming any tension.

one evening, he invited you to his studio. “i’ve been working on something,” he said, gesturing toward the equipment. as the music played, you realized he had written a song for you — its lyrics raw and honest, capturing both his regret and his deep love for you. “this is how i feel,” he said when the track ended, his voice soft yet firm. “i want to be better, for you and for us.”

despite his big gestures, changbin also made an effort to be more patient and open. during one of your conversations, when emotions ran high, he surprised you by taking a deep breath and saying, “i don’t want to argue. let’s talk about this. i want to understand how you feel.”

his most heartfelt effort came during a casual evening together. as you walked through a park, he suddenly stopped, pulling you close. “i know i’ve been intense at times,” he said, his tone unusually gentle. “but that’s because i love you so much. i’ll keep working on myself because i don’t ever want to lose you again.”

with every gesture, big or small, changbin showed you that his love for you was as unwavering as his determination to make things right.

notes: i’ve never really been in a relationship so i mentioned a lot of things i’d personally want a guy to do for me (T^T) i hope yall enjoyed either way!

[revelboo]

Looking at you with my big ol eyes to politely ask for more Skids whenever you feel in the mood to write for him. That first part was just so gooood I keep thinking about it ;u;

Sure

Hysteria

IDW Skids x Reader

• Cringing and almost dropping you as you slump against his servos, still making that awful gagging sound as he runs up the ramp while the others cover him. Looking down, he shudders. “I know you’re really stressed, but if you don’t stop purging, I’m going to be doing it, too. Nobody wants that,” he mutters trying to find someone to hand you off to as the last bot makes it back aboard and Rodimus runs for the bridge. Seeing him staring at them hopefully, everyone backs away from him and you. Wanting nothing to do with the mess or the smell. Awkwardly rubbing a servo against your spine, he roughly clears his vents. “Please, stop? Anyone know how to fix this?”

• Throat raw, you lay your cheek against the giant robots hand and cut your eyes up at him. Because you’d been able to understand him. At least you can ask him what he’s going to do to you, those other aliens either couldn’t understand you or didn’t care. They definitely hadn’t been as gentle as he is. Feeling him rub your back and the unhappy worry in his voice eases some of the terror. He wouldn’t care that you’re upset if he was just going to hurt you, right? “I want to go home.”

• Now Tailgate and Trailbreaker, the only two not driven off by your purging take the opportunity to bail on him, knowing you’re going to have to be told that you can’t go home and wanting no part of it. Cowards. And you can’t go home, at least, not yet and that’s not going to go over well. Glaring at their retreating backs, he uses a servo to nudge your hair away from your face and his servo lingers seeing a nasty yellow bruise on your neck. Is that a bite?Venting softly, he wishes he’d shot more of them. Those tired eyes stare up at him, much calmer. No, resigned. Though he’s pretty sure that’s about to change. “So, about that? We’re on a mission and far from Earth, but I promise I’ll try to get you back.” Eventually. Not wanting to tell you it might be years before that happens.

• Eyes closing, you refuse to start bawling. What good would that do? All you can do is hope his promise is worth something. That he’s kinder than your last captors had been. “You’ve been to Earth. Understand my language.” Not really a question, but if there were giant, alien robots on Earth, wouldn’t you have heard about it? That would have definitely made the news unless it was covered up by the government, which wouldn’t really surprise you. “What are you going to do with me?”

• “You’re safe here, there’s other humans onboard. Er, rescues like you. I guess you’ll stay with me for now. I’m Skids.” Not sure how he feels about having a human to care for as you just look up at him, shockingly calm considering the excitement and terror you’d just gone through. But as your eyes stay closed, still not lifting your head from his hand, he hopes that maybe you’re just too exhausted to be scared. There’s no telling what those aliens had done to you before he’d found you or how long they’d had you. Those coverings you’re wearing don’t look like what little he knows of human fashion. Making him wonder if you’re normally this docile or if you’d been broken. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

• Tired down to your bones, you just lay against his servos. Wanting to believe him. Wanting to be safe, not scared anymore. Not hurt. And more than anything else, wanting to sleep. To forget the pain. Curling yourself into his warm hand, he starts stroking your back again as he walks and even though you hate it, you start softly crying.

Previous

[anika-ann]

Precious Night, Holy Night - S.R.

Type: one-shot, establishished relationship, Christmas-themed

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 3,8k

Summary: The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

His watch buzzes lightly, reporting that yet another hour he spent away has blended into the next one; and without checking, he knows it’s even worse. Not another hour – another day. Christmas Day.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

Warnings: : light angst with hurt and comfort, light issues of self-worth (hello Stevie my dear), mentions of blood and injuries and injury-related pain (not reader), a bit of swearing, Steve being an angsty sap in love (totally a warning)

A/N: Inspired by a lovely song by Janek Ledecký – loosely translated lyrics through the text can be skipped of course. (If you’d like a listen, it’s here; what I adore most about it is the simplicity. No serenades, no extraordinary notes to hit, nothing, he doesn’t even pronounce properly at times – just an ordinary man professing his love, much like I feel Steve would). Divider by @saradika-graphics Enjoy and belated Happy Holidays 💕

Stepping into the apartment feels like the strangest dream; a dream that despite the soft warmth of his home feels fragile to touch, exposed to the cold coil of anxiety.

The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

Hope always is a fragile thing, an antithesis to the solidity of fear; and as he closes the door as quietly as he can with one arm in a sling, he wonders whose fear is more suffocating. Yours, that one day, he won’t walk through that door after one of his many missions; or his, that one day, the figurative goblet of patience of yours will overflow and he will come back here only to find the space screaming with emptiness.

He knows the answer, objectively. But the heart and the head are not always in agreement; and he’s a lot more selfish that people seem to think.

His watch buzzes lightly, reporting that yet another hour he spent away has blended into the next one; and without checking, he knows it’s even worse. Not another hour – another day. Christmas Day.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

You sleep, the clocks strike a late hour midnight is creeping step by step and behind it, Christmas

The clocks strike, like a cry for help as I await the longest night so that I could turn and look back

The pendulum cuts heavy through the air the vicious circle slowly closing – an anxious feeling drawing claws

There are moments like these when guilt bites heavy and sharp into his gut, his chest full of an ice-cold selfish fear. And he might know that you, staying behind and hoping he comes back alive, have it so much harder than him; but how could he ignore the obvious fact that you are a blessing that his own actions might chase away eventually? A blessing he never wants to let go and guards it with his life?

It is just that the very life sometimes gets in his way. The world does too; the goddamn world he too swore to protect and cannot ignore, because it is a world he lives in and so do you, and he’s saving it for its own sake, as well as his and yours.

And he cannot stay back, cannot merely bear witness from afar. He never could.

That was how he got into the whole mess of waking up seventy years into the future in the first place; that is how he was taken by the all-consuming storm of loving you so much the feeling alone makes it hard to breathe.

Sliding the strap of is shield casing off his shoulder, shrugging off the coat half-draped over his back, he cranes his neck a bit, feeling the stiffness; he nearly dozed off in the car, the heavy coil of dread as well as the giddy excitement of coming home barely keeping him awake. For once, he was grateful for Tony’s flare of dramatics and luxury and private drivers – driving in his state would not be wise, even as Steve would probably handle it despite his exhaustion. The problem was the snowstorm. And yet, even for that, he was grateful; as he walked home, the wind and the sharp snowflakes cut into his cheeks, prickling in his eyes, the sensation jolting him awake.

A little punishment for needing to be a hero; a little punishment for leaving you to be exactly that.

He shakes the melting snowflakes from his hair, ignoring the waves of ache in his left arm crashing down his forearm, then runs his unharmed hand through the wet locks. A few tips almost frosted over, now already giving way to the warmth of the space.

Taking off his boots too, Steve sighs, gulping against the lump that has grown in his throat, and steps further into the apartment, an anxious hope thrumming in his bruised ribcage.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

Listening intently over the thunderous pulse in his temples, his shoulders slump suddenly, another tug of pain in his flesh; but by god, he is happy to have the pain ground him in the moment of reality, for it truly feels like a dream.

Your slow, regular breaths.

For the smell of Christmas and all the visual clues – from the decorations, the lights, the plate of gingerbreads you had baked together just before he left, down to your shoes and coats – it was the sounds of your peaceful sleep that undeniably proved your presence with finality. And soothed him.

He truly was coming home. And despite the mission not being a light one, despite his arm being broken in two places, despite the mission lasting way too long to his liking and happening with the worst possible timing – this is the thing that makes his eyes sting with tears.

This and the awfully sharp memory of him leaving, having got the call between decorating gingerbreads of the most ridiculous work-related shapes and preparing dough for Christmas cookies.

It’s so vivid in his mind, the image etched into his brain and bones. Your bright smile slipped, the gorgeous light in your eyes dimming, giving way to resignation and bravery. The mirage of joy dissipated in front of Steve like the steam from above the cups of hot chocolate he had prepared for you two to enjoy, his hands as if reaching out to hold onto it and only grasping air.

“Sweetheart-“

“I know, Steve,” you said, already moving to the sink to wash your hands, hiding your face away from him and tearing his heart in half not with the crack of emotion in your voice, but with the clear effort to mask it.

How he wished you’d screamed at him instead, mad and teary; because a wild emotion like anger meant people cared.

And that was his greatest fear, wasn’t it? That one of those days, you wouldn’t even care anymore.

You wouldn’t care whether he was with you; you wouldn’t care if he came back, because you’d be long gone. How many times had he cancelled dates, called off trips? How many times had he broken promises, only just a little, because he tries not to promise the impossible?

How he did wish he was capable of impossible, just for you. But he couldn’t.

How many times would finally be too many…?

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I-“

“Steve. It’s okay. I get it,” you said, turning to him at last. The glimmer of tears in your eyes – waking sensation in his chest awfully reminding him of the one time he had had a punctured lung – showed him just how wrong he had been.

No, he’d rather you didn’t care at all, that you didn’t hurt like this for him. Or did he? He was not quite sure.

But he sure knew that being the reason for your tears, even if kept at bay, was like an eagle’s claws sinking into his chest and pullingand pulling until it seemed it couldn’t even hurt anymore, but it did. Every damn second.

But you held your head so high, gaze shakingly latched onto his to prove he did not have to worry, because you understood his sense of duty; he did not have to worry, because that was what you agreed to deal with when letting him put an engagement ring on your finger with happy tears and a string of the sweetest yes, yes, yes-- that he did not have to worry at all, or not much at least; and that worried him all the more.

He’d pull a miracle if he could, he would, just to see you smile again, just to--- anything. But he could not ignore this, he could not ignore people needing his help, that was what he was born and made into to do, after all; but so was loving you. He wasn’t sure if he believed in fate, but there had to be a special kind of higher purpose in finding you after all the years of loneliness and yearning for someone just like you; you were made for each other, star-crossed lovers battling odds of being born seven decades apart. He must have been destined to meet you; destined to love you.

And now he was disappointing you, again.

How long until you’d stop believing that this was love?

How long until you’d move on to someone was here, always, because that was what your tender heart deserved?

No. Steve would pull a miracle, he had to, just to keep you smiling; just to keep you. A week had to be enough. No, to hell with a week, he’d be done in three days just to make it home in time-

“I’ll try my damnest to be home for Christmas, I promise-“

You shook your head gingerly, eyes turning warmer despite its wet glimmer, your smile a little wobbly – but oh so brave – as you reached out to cradle his face in your palms.

They smelled like gingerbreads and sugar and gentleness he wasn’t quite worthy of.

“Don’t, Steve…” you whispered, his heart dropping to his feet, an icy shiver cutting through his spine. “I… I don’t need you to promise that.”

“What can I do, then? What do you need?” he pleaded, the desperation at missing your Christmas, again, creeping into his voice so acutely he felt he might have shrunk several inches, all the way back to the times before the serum, a too little man, a fierce fighter who’d throw fists with determination much greater than his actual power.

Fighting; but oh so vainly.

Please, just let me fix this--- for you, for us. I have to go, I really do, but I’ll do anything to make up for not being here-

Your smile was a little broken by the edges, like one of those sculptures of angels, weeping for humanity and loving it all the same.

“What I always do, love. For you to come home in one piece and try your damnest to do so,” you echoed his words, your slightly hoarse voice growing stronger at the curse; and so did the steel of determination in his gaze in response.

Because he’d be damned before disappointing you that profoundly. He was always going to tear the world apart to get back to you.

“That I promise.”

That I can do. Always.

“Good,” you breathed.

You stood up on your tiptoes then, bringing your lips to his, pouring love and courage and fears he was too aware of into the kiss, much like wordlessly speaking your plea.

Come home. Come home to me in one piece.

And he would. Oh he would.

‘If we can’t cancel the stream of time,’ you said ‘then I only wish for one thing – for you to never leave me’ ‘alone, I’m a sailboat without wind’ And your lower lip wobbled, soft so I held you, with a vow to try my best

Following the sound of your breathing on instinct, Steve’s own hitches in his lungs, his steps ceasing far away from the bedroom. Instead, his gaze finds you laid on the couch with a view of the tree, sleeping soundly, a fluffy blanket draped over your form; and Steve’s heart aches, along with his neck, as if with sympathy for yours.

You admitted it before, under soft duress, that you sometimes struggled to sleep in the empty bed; you even joked that with how large Steve was, it truly was practically empty, your laugh a little shaky. As shaky as Steve’s legs now felt, the weakness having little to do with the exhaustion of the mission draping over him and everything to do with finding you home, losing sleep without him.

Bucky joked that maybe they should just lie under the tree once they get home, for their dolls to find them in the morning, like the greatest gift to unwrap at Christmas: because they made it home and made it in time.

Steve would argue with the latter; and about the former too. With how the couch was situated, made so you and Steve could rest, bodies half-tangled and your head on his chest, it is that you are now positioned like the greatest gift there could ever be.

And you are.

With your profile illuminated by the soft glow of Christmas lights, Steve is drawn to you like a believer witnessing an icon come to life; a miracle. You, still home, still awaiting him. As your hand fists the comforter, hands almost to your lips, your neck is exposed and so is the hem of Steve’s old shirt you chose as your attire along with a pair of too-long sweats peeking from under the blanket; his again.

Not just awaiting then; missing him. Caring.

His heart swells, the suffocating anxiety slowly giving way to something much more tender.

He steps closer, crouching in front of the couch, eyes feasting on the holy image, tempting to his touch. He does not want to rouse your sleep and yet, he swears he might die if he didn’t touch you this very second, didn’t see your smile upon seeing him home again – and as late as he is, still in somewhat in time.

Home for Christmas – hasn’t he said so?

He’d have run barefoot through the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn had the traffic frozen on the frozen streets, just to make it home to you. He’s glad he didn’t have to do that – but he would. After all, what is a little frostbite if you’d kiss him once he got home? Your lips could melt away the Arctic itself, your embrace a safe haven on the raging seas; he’d take another decade in ice if it meant meeting you. It if meant being loved by you.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

As his gaze roams, he notices the light salty traces on your cheeks; ribcage rattled all over again, guilt gnaws at his stomach. You aren’t crying in your sleep, but at some point, you have cried. And it could have just been a sad song, or one of those cheesy but still touching Christmas movies, but his conscience knows better.

You have cried for him.

Worse yet, maybe you have cried because of him.

Hand twitching to sooth the pain already gone, he closes it into a fist instead; he would only be soothing himself, easing his guilt. You have cried and he hasn’t been there – whether that was correlation or causality didn’t matter. It was done. He shouldn’t disturb you. He’ll grab a little snack and sleep off the mission and start making up for his sins in the morning.

Glancing towards the kitchen area, he sighs quietly, gritting his teeth to stand without a hiss of pain.

“Steve…”

He freezes mid-motion, eyes snapping to your face again; a faint smile on your lips, your fingers flex around the comforter again.

In an instant, Steve snaps into preparing for explanations, apologies, his mind a whirlwind of whats and whys and sorries—

And then he realizes you are still asleep.

The soft waves of affection washing over him as he hears his name fall from your lips again nearly suffocate him all over again, the most pleasant weight settling in his heart.

And an uncontrollable urge. You have cried for him; but now, you are dreaming of him and there are no fresh tears; not in your eyes anyway. His fingers twitch again; no more worthy or justified than before, but with painful numbness which can only be erased by finally touching you.

He reaches out carefully, the pads of his fingers laid tenderly over your knuckles.

Due to all my missteps and fails should’ve been long out of the door

So now I whisper into your hair that you won’t get rid of me that easy

You all but stir minutely, a sweet frown to your brow, your breath remaining steady; Steve’s inner turmoil might not be resolved, but is eased enough as not to disturb you further. This is just enough; just enough to keep him sated and exactly as much as he deserves, not more, he thinks, mind set.

His fingers have a mind of their own however, guided by his heart.

The lightest brush over your hair, over the arche of your eyebrow, over the slope of your nose, over your soft cheek and the gentle line of your jaw, his fingers stopping but a breath from your parted lips. He commits your features to memory, revisiting a piece of art he knew by heart but would always reveal something new to him in its timeless beauty.

The brief discontent rumbling from within your throat and your body curling onto itself brings a smile to Steve’s lips as the memory of many mornings – those where he got to wake you up softly, himself already an hour or two ahead for the day – flashing through his mind, his fingers inching further, your breath tickling his skin before he dares to touch your lips.

And then, slow blinks, a sleepy gaze and pursed lips, curling up in a breathtaking smile.

Steve’s heart skips a startled beat, caught red-handed; but he’d commit the crime all over again, because you’re smiling.

The first time, the second time, every time he sees it; his breath hitches again, his ribs crying out; but he could die a happy man right there – maybe only if you kissed him.

You cover his hand resting on your cheek with yours, pressing a quick kiss to his palm, melting all his doubt away.

This. This spark of joy and relief, scrambling to sit up even as you slightly sway because he’s woken you up from a deep slumber, your eyes roaming his figure, taking count of his injuries, checking if he is indeed home in one piece.

And Steve is counting too; his blessings. You are every single one of them, even as you sigh at the sight of the splint and the no doubt still spectacular bruise the shape of a fist over his right eye.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers before you can scold him, or say anything at all, his voice shaky, a traitorous tear escaping his eye at the all-consuming emotion etched into your gaze, your sweet features.

Your free hand moves to cradle his cheek carefully, so tenderly for the fear of pressing too hard and making it hurt that it does hurt him – in all the best ways. His eyes slip shut at the sensation, his aching ribcage so blissfully full of affection he might burst.

And it might as well, when he feels your warm breath fanning over his face, before your lips press gently to his forehead.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – and you dream

“Sweetheart,” he echoes, a creak in his voice he is not proud of – but he feels some of your hot tears join his and his hand slips to your waist, guiding you to slide down the couch to join him on the floor, to hold you close and he could weep forever – not because you brushed over his broken arm despite your best efforts, but because it feels like he can finally breathe again, your body pressed to his, bruised ribs or not.

“Did I not tell you to come home in one piece?” you scold him without malice, a wet laugh escaping his throat as he nuzzles your hair, his lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, breathing you in to overwhelm his senses with you until his lips finally, finally find yours, careful but just as eager as his.

And the kiss tastes so much sweeter than the retort forming in the back of his head about how he is in one piece; his bones might not be, but the soft tissues are and the serum and the fast intervention of the talented Avengers Initiative doctors made sure that even his bones are already mending.

Judging by the look in your eye when you retreat to gulp in some air, you heard that train of thought anyway, despite being but an ordinary, extraordinary human. You convey so much emotion in a single glance, let alone with such lingering look.

You look like you want to call him two halves of an idiot and maybe smack him for whatever stunt you knew he pulled, even if you don’t; you look grateful he is your whole idiot and he is still here for you to smack him. Or kiss him again. He’ll take either; as long as you care.

As long as you love him, just as he loves you.

“I got home for Christmas at least?” he offers, earning an exasperated grimace, once again displaying your dilemma.

You choose to kiss him again, softly, a silent involuntary whine escaping him as you let him angle your head to kiss you deeper and consume you whole, and this, if this isn’t heaven, if this isn’t the best Christmas gift ever, you curled around him in a ridiculous shape less than three feet from a Christmas tree, he’ll be doesn’t know what is.

He doesn’t care. He only cares that he has you.

Later, he’ll marvel at how you automatically move to take a turkey out of the freezer to prepare for a Christmas lunch instead of dinner, how you saved him a sandwich just in case, and how his gifts, so thoughtful, are wrapped for whenever he’d come home; how you give him a certain kind of look and caress his cheek and peck his lips when he weakly suggests that you don’t and didn’t have to do any of that, but you never listen.

How your every action is a testimony to how you do not care about when you celebrate Christmas, only that it’s with him.

But for now, he has everything he wants and needs and could ever wish for. It still feels like he wished for too much, more than he’d deserve; but today, he can. It is Christmas, after all, and you are his everyday miracle, his greatest gift.

And for all the greatest gift he gets, he will work for hard every day – and he will cherish it and protect and adore no matter the time of year, keeping the most important promise he ever gave you.

He will always come home; and he will always, always love you.

I swear to you, I don’t always make it easy I swear to you, you won’t get rid of me that easy I swear to you, I’m never gonna leave you I swear to you – and you sleep, unaware my love

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you if you gave this a read, even post the main Christmas time ✨ If you find a minute, feedback is life 💕

May the end of the year be kind to you ✨

[quilly72]

Alice squuzed in closer to you. "Could... Could you really do that... For me"

Her voice was quiet and barely audible your tiny 4'10" girlfriend looked up at you as you lay in your bed.

This week had been a stressful one but it might soon be worth it. You and your team had been working on a new prototype for a growth accelerator, name pending.

It was meant to help plant life grow to maturity faster and maybe even increase production of plants. The side effects on humans were.... Unknown and your team hadn't put too much thought into human trials. The prototype had been real finicky as of late, which was causing alot of sleepless nights for your team. You offered to bring it home and ness with it tonight but had gotten distracted when your gf made an unexpected visit. You explained it to her and of course her immediate thought was human testing... On herself.

You were tempted by the idea. Watching her grow and maybe even grow bigger proportions wasn't something that turned you off and what was really the worst that could happen. The plants seemed to be fine after all all you were doing was dialing in the limit to it's capabilities. It wouldn't hurt to make Alice a couple inches bigger.

You lay on the bed staring into her hopeful eyes her small demeanor curled up on top of you. "Fine"

Alice squeeled giddy in anticipation

"but only a little.. no one can know about it"

"that's fine. I'll just tell everyone I had a growth spurt. More than likely no one will even notice.

Alice shot off to the other side of the room as she bounced. Her button up shirt and pencil neck skirt sitting comfortably on her. Alice bounced in place as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other. She watched you walk to your desk and pick up the bulky 45 lb raygun. It wasn't exactly compartmentalized yet. You changed a couple parameters as you aimed at your waiting girlfriend.

"how should I pose" she mockingly got into different positions as she settled for jutting her tiny chest out beckoning for the ray to hit it.

You licked your lips as you felt a boner press up against your zipper. She was too cute when she got excited like this. You took a deep breath as you lighltytapped the trigger. A short tiny green ray barely escaping the nozzle as it shot across the room.

OOOOF

Alice shot back her body flinging into the corner of the room. She grabbed your desk to balance herself as she peeled herself off the wall her body aching from the impact. "You didn't say it was gonna hit me that hard" she whined.

You snickered as she leaned forward. Her legs carrying her towards the bed you had already sat down on. The raygun comfortably sitting on your work desk across the room. "Feel any different" you snickered.

Alice stood quietly at the foot of the bed. Her body still sore from her introduction with the wall. She sized herself up. Caressing and eyeing her body as she checked for any difference.

"my boobs are a bit sore from where it hit me but I don't think.... Hold on... I think something might be happening."

Alice concentrated as she grew quieter. Without warning she grimaced as she gritted her teeth. Her brow furrowing as she grew in discomfort. On queue her boobs grew forward. Her button up straining against her cleavage as it pushed through. Her buttons pulled taught as you stared at her boobs through their new windows. Her grimace grew as well as she reached down. She clutched her butt as she turned to look. You caught a glimpse of her booty grow from a tiny little dot. To a sizeable little badonk. Her thighs swelling as they peaked out the bottom of her now very tight pencil neck skirt.

Alice struggled to move as her legs were pinned together. She clawed at her sleeves which now barely came to her forearms. Her buttons constraining her every movement. "Too tight." "I should've undressed before we did this.

Alice clawed at her button up as she relieved the pressure. Revealing her cyan bra which strained and fell underneath her growing chest. Alice finished unbuttoning her shirt as she peeled it off her body.

"how big do you think they are.. c cups.. maybe d cups" she mentioned

You stared as she cupped them bouncing them in her hands. Her smile staring at you as she thought of the possibilities. "Stand up so we can compare heights.

You motioned upwards as she groaned. You looked to see her eyes dart to her own body. Her body gurgling and groaning as.... "Uunnnh"

Alice shot upwards. Her thighs growing down her skirt as you heard several seams tear. Her skirt clinging her butt as her underwear peaked out the hole in the back. Her bra fell to the wayside as it popped off. Her boobs shooting forward no longer held back by cloth.

Her shoes snapped as she lost her balance. Her heels shattering underneath her. She stood back up to her full height as she regained her breath. "You know you should try making it feel a bit better than this" she said sarcastically.

You stood up next to her. Her eyes right below yours. Her growth was unprecedented. You were easily 6 ft and now your gf who was a whole foot shorter was barely looking up at you anymore. Alice noticed this as she playfully nudged you. "Pretty soon you won't wear the pants anymo... Ree"

Alice grimaced again. Her body trembling and groaning as if it rubbed against each other before she sprung up again. Her head surpassing yours as she shot her arms out for balance. A smile strectching across her face as she stared down at you. Her underwear clung to her body as her thighs plumped up outside of it. A noticeable line being drawn in by her too small panties. Her hair tricked a bit further down her back as it brushed against you. The sweet aroma surrounding you as her red tandrils smothered you. She stood to her full height. Her head almost completely above yours. "I must be 6'6 maybe even taller" she mused.

"I could get used to this" she snickered. Meanwhile you were too lost in her body. Her butt straining against the underwear as her boobs swayed back and forth easily e cups or higher now. Your boner growing even harder as you struggled to contain yourself let alone hold a conversation.

Alice noticed this as she posed for you. Pressing her elbows into her cleavage and unsuccessfully trying to peel her undergarments off for you. She pressed up against you as she shoved you to the bed. "Lay down like a good boy"

You struggled to swallow as she encroached you. Her shadow engulfing you as she. "Uuunnnnffphhh"

Alice strained. Her face contorting in discomfort. Her arms shot to each side of her as she tried to balance herself. Her knees bent as she sprang upwards. Her latest growth spurt hitting her hard and fast. For the first time you watched a concerned look flash across her face. As she stared at you looking for a solution. Her underwear tore a couple seams as she stood to easily 7 ft tall. She reached an arm up noting she could lay her hand flat against the ceiling if she strectched for it.

A nervous chuckle escaped her before she composed herself and stared back at you. She took a deep breath "a bit bigger than I wanted but I think I'm good... Say when do I know I've stopped" you could tell she was nervous as she struggled to smile. And bent her body awkwardly noting she was now noticeably taller than your average person.

You shrugged as you stared back at her a look of concern settling into both of your faces as you leaned up to look at your growth ray. She walked behind you as she leaned over you. Her head above yours as you stared at the raygun. "Maybe there's a setting or a reverse button" she pondered.

You didn't have the heart to tell her there wasn't... Yet but luckily the effects were rarely permanent. You were just about to mention this wehn you felt a distinct rumble vibrate behind you. You darted back as you looked. Alice gritting her teeth as a spasm racked her body.

Her panties stood no chance as they tore to the floor. Her head rushing upwards as she braced against the ceiling. Her elbows now flat against the roof as her arms pushed up. The roof bending slightly as she pushed against it. Alice breathed heavily as her chest surged forward. Her boobs covering her chest as she grew to f cups.. if that was even a thing.

Alice opened her eyes panick settling in them as she found you braced against the desk. "I think it's time we reverse this"

You nodded as you turned around. Messing with the raygun as you tried to create atleast a short term solution. Reverse the polarity here. Increase power there.

The floor shook behind you. "No please no more" a whisper sounded behind you.

Aaannnhhhnnfffduuuhh" a guttural groan escaped her. Her head surged upwards her hair meeting the ceiling quickly met by her skull pounding up on it. She leaned forward as she rubbed her head. Her head above your workstation as she stared down at you." How close are you"

You didn't say anything frantically working on the gun. You didn't even know if you could do anything. Her growth was unforseeable. Nothing had ever grown this big. Let alone this long. She should of stopped several spurts ago and you weren't even sure if reversing it was possible but you didn't dare say that.

Meanwhile her boobs found down behind you their warmth radiating out as she struggled to stand in the new small room. Her knees bent slightly as her hair brushed and tickled the ceiling. Some strands darting in front of your vision as she bobbed above you. Her breathing was heavy as she struggled to not panic. "Are you close I think I feel another one commmiiIInnNggg.

Alice was right her head bumped the ceiling again. Drywall raining down as she fell to her knees. Her Hobbs knocking you to the floor as she smothered you. "Sorry sorry."

She leaned upwards caving her back as you escaped underneath her. She scooched back as she leaned back on her haunches. You were momentarily distracted by her thighs spilling outwards across her legs and her boobs surging back and forth as she jiggled before you saw her face. Her panicked smile and glassy eyes staring at you. "Quickly quickly" she motioned.

You got back to work as you heard another groan.

Alice dare not speak as she struggled to breath she leaned forward her head behind you as she leaned on all 4s her body trembling and shaking. You felt her tears hit the ground and fall to the floor. Unnnnnnnnnfff.

Alice surged again

Her chest dragging against the floor as she struggled to avoid you. Her head popping above you again. Her cleavage squishing you to the desk as she pinned you against herself. Her feet and butt pinned against the back wall as you heard your other desk and bed shatter to pieces. "Too big... Can't stop... HELP"

Alice was full blow panicking as she began hyperventaling. "Almost there calm down."

Alice's back scrunched against the ceiling as you heard the roof groan in protest. Her body left with no where left to go as the walls cracked and dented.

"got it I got it!"

You lifted the heavy gun as you powered it up. The machine barely turning on as you heard Alice grunt. Her body trembling and shaking again. Her eyes clenched but as she struggled against her spurts. Her teeth gritted and face clenched as she tried not to grow. You aimed the gun as you quickly fired off a shot. Catching her mid spurt.

Ahhh...

Alice force her body resting. She felt weird she wasn't growing but she wasn't shrink either. But something was still off. "did it work."

She stared at you as you tried to push against her cleavage freeing yourself from her body. "I think so"

Alice laughed as she smiled. "Thank you thank you. I'll never ask for this again. That was easy the most terrifying experience of my life. I mean could you imagine what would have happened if I had... Grown..."

Alice paused. Her body felt off

"something's wrong" Alice could feel her body thumping as if her heartbeat was growing louder. "This feels different what is this"

"maybe your shrinking maybe it's reversing"

"I don't know it doesn't feel right I feel"

Alice strained. The thumping growing. Her body heats duo as she hyperventilated. Her body shaking and groaning. Her body grew hotter and hotter as she felt pure energy surge inside of her. She moaned louder and louder as she realized she was climaxing. "I'm gonna.... Feels so good... Can't stop. I'm gonna. It's... ItsHAPPENING!

Alice shrieked as she felt the energy release and her body grew. Her feet smashing out of the house as her head buried itself druther in. Her bf being swallowed by cleavage with the raygun. She lay flat against the ground as she surged again. Her shrieks piercing the neighborhood. "Can't stop... Feels so good.. Help me somebody"

Her back smashed through the roof as her arms and head smashed the walls down. The house crumbling on top of her. Her naked body engulfing the foundation Alice finally stopped at a cool 50 ft. Her eyes ga

Lady with fear as she stared at all the people surrounding her. A nervous smile escaping her as she stared back at the crowd.

[laurencher]

The illustration I drew for the fanfic "Fragile, handle with care" by @jorisjurgen. It's a fantastic work, this scene is probably my favorite.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Voice reveal lmao

Saw Korn live for the first time in my life a couple of days ago, and I need y'all to know I'm still recovering

[birb--birb]

YOOOOOO I GET MY LAST OF US TATTOO NEXT WEEK WEEEE!!!!!

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[oasisofgalaxies]

did we make the right choice? was there a chance that if we made him live we could have found another way out? i cant tell if it was a mercy or if we just gave up.

[can-we-die-now]

I did it

I finished the 1000 piece puzzle

won the bet too

[the-kipsabian]

i have returned from the void that was my dark bedroom hello

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: My comms are discounted for a limited time for Black Friday btw. This is a kofi request, so if you want more then send me a Kofi~ it’s a snow leopard hybrid ^^

Being abandoned by your owner in the middle of winter was already not ideal, but being caught in a record breaking blizzard was definitely worse.

You could sense it coming. Being a cat hybrid had its perks, but you almost wished you were blissfully unaware of your imminent demise.

It had been a few hours since your owner drove off, leaving you in a torn hoodie and your thin pajama pants. He hadn’t known the risks of owning a cat hybrid such as yourself, and when you went into heat and started rubbing your scent on everything and biting him to try and claim his as your mate, he abandoned you.

It really hurt. You adored your owner, thinking he was different from other humans who simply saw you as a pet.

But you were wrong. He tossed you away without a second thought, leaving you to die. Had you really meant that little to him?

Despite your sadness, you curled up under a bench, shivering as you tried to keep yourself warm. Even being in heat wasn’t helping much, the ache in your belly only adding to the discomfort and pain you were feeling.

You wanted to be warm, to nest and be properly bred by a kind male. Maybe that was too much for a house cat hybrid such as yourself to ask. Thinking you were worth something led you here after all…

As the snow only continued to fall, you tried your best to stay warm. It was only to try and find the most comfort you could while waiting for your death.

You weren’t accustomed to taking care of yourself. Ever since your birth, food had been handed to you, beautiful clothes and jewelry adorning your body when it came time for you to be presented before humans for sale.

Before this, you had never worried about warmth or sustenance, simply relying on your owner.

What else could you do?

As you thought all hope was loss, a scent other than the cold and wet smell of snow wafted through the air, a familiar yet strange one.

It an instant the bench was ripped from its foundation, a figure bending down to examine you.

Your vision was a bit blurry, but you could smell it.

This was a wild hybrid.

In the past you heard tales of such beasts, hybrids that fled to the wild to escape human subjugation, but because you were a pampered house cat hybrid, you had yet to encounter one.

“Lost, little one?”

Your tail puffed out as you let out a weak hiss, watching as the hybrid’s face got closer to yours. He smelled like blood, perhaps he had just procured a fresh kill and was looking to add to his winter stockpile.

At least if he killed you, it would be a quicker death than freezing. Perhaps this was some kind of twisted mercy…

But you never felt his fangs puncture your throat, instead your hoodie was being bitten, your body lifted and carried by his strong jaws.

He was taking you somewhere. Where? You could only guess back to his den. It would be easier to kill your there instead of risking the scent of blood being left on the snow, leading back to his home.

Although you were afraid, the big cat was warm. His breath fanned against your neck, and your body reacted against your will, producing enticing pheromones that told any hybrid nearby that you were in heat.

He was soft, and for some reason you felt something being wrapped around you… some kind of furs from one of his hunts. Why would he bother to keep you warm? Did he prefer his prey fresh and didn’t want you to freeze to death?

None of this really mattered to you. You were cold, hungry, and exhausted. If you slept now, perhaps you would be unconscious when the time came and pass on in your sleep.

So you passed out, too tired to even notice how his pheromones responded to yours.

When you awoke, you were in bed. Your owner had never allowed you to sleep with him, so this was the first time you had been in a human bed and not one for pets.

The blankets were made of the same furs you had been cloaked in before. You sat up slowly, still processing what led you to this.

Being abandoned right before a blizzard… nearly freezing to death… a wolf hybrid taking you with him…

It was a lot to think about, and even with a now well rested mind your head was still spinning. Maybe a meal would help you make sense of this…

“You’re awake…”

You stiffened at the voice, your blood running cold. When you finally found the courage to turn and look at the source of it, you nearly passed out again.

In the doorway was a snow leopard hybrid, his cat ears flicking as he stared down at you. He was nearly twice your size, and thoughts of you beating him in a fight went down the drain immediately.

“Thought you were a goner for a bit. Tougher than you look.”

He spoke slowly, his eyes on your plump form. You weren't sure what he was thinking, and before you could respond your belly rumbled.

“Hungry, huh?”

His long, thick tail swayed behind him as he approached. Although he was tall, he was thin and lean, not the same type of terrifying a lion or tiger hybrid would be, but still holding the same predatory glint in his eye.

“Kittens in heat such as yourself have to eat.”

You felt your cheeks warm. Of course he could tell you were in season, your scent was probably overwhelming at this distance.

He tilted his head. “Not wild, are you? What’s a little thing such as yourself doing all the way out here?”

Your lip wobbled. All the pain, all the anger and confusion came bubbling to the surface.

“My owner… he just… he left me all alone… a-and it was scary, I…”

The snow leopard stared at you, letting you cry before he leaned down to lick away you tears before beginning to groom you.

This calmed you significantly, a soft purr rumbling in your chest. This was a comfort you had been denied since you had been separated from your litter as a kitten, and you couldn’t help but lean in as he licked back your hair.

“It’ll be alright. You’re mine now, my property. You won’t be cold or scared anymore.”

He rubbed his cheek against yours, moving his face to your neck and giving a harsh bite to your sensitive flesh, a clear marking of his territory.

While you ate, it was clear he was holding himself back from something. His golden eyes followed your every move, his tail swaying behind him almost sending you into a trance like state.

You usually ate whatever your owner did, even if it made you sick or upset your sensitive belly, but tonight you had stew, made with cat hybrids in mind.

Once you had your fill, your body was able to recover enough to start producing more pheromones. It was well aware there was a male nearby and that you were fertile, so it made your cunt grow wet and hot, ensuring you’d be easy for the average male to penetrate.

But unfortunately your stupid body didn’t understand the male before you was twice your size. He could sense your heat, knew that your body was trying to stir him forward.

He sniffed at you. This was the scent that had interested him. It wasn’t like he was cruel, if a female such as yourself was in need he wouldn’t just abandon you in the cold, but the fact you were plump and in heat certainly made taking you in much more enticing.

You let out a startled mew when he approached, his face burying itself into your neck. His tongue lapped softly at the scent gland there, his hands moving to hold onto your hips.

From the moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his mate. The bond had been formed before you even noticed he was there, and the snow leopard was eager to confirm it.

You smelled like heaven, a mix of your natural musk and some kind of sweet perfume your owner had you wear. Tearing off your clothes was child’s play for his sharp claws, and his body vibrated with purrs once he laid eyes on your naked form.

Already he was imagining your belly heavy and swollen with his kits, his hand gently pressing against the fat of your tummy. Being fat and plump was good for surveying the harsh climate where he lived, and it was important for females to be fed fresh meat throughout the winter.

His cock hardened, it wasn’t going to be easy fitting into such a small cat hybrid. Compared to him you were like a mouse, easily positioned however he wanted.

His fingers dipped into you, making you mewl and arch your back. You had already been bucking your hips like a needy little thing, your body desperate to be mated before your heat was over.

His cock stretched you out. It was unpleasant at best, almost painful as you struggled to take in something too big for you.

Even though he was being gentle, nothing would help when you were never meant to be bred by a big cat such as himself.

Despite this, your heat ridden body made it work, beat pooling into your abdomen as your gushed around his fat cock. Your tail twitched as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in without warning, a bulge forming in your belly from the sheer size of him.

The feeling of being ravished by him was… exhilarating. You were too small, too weak to do anything besides moan and writhe underneath him, letting the snow leopard use you as a living flesh light to be filled with his seed.

Even though it felt like you were being torn apart at first, his finger slowly rubbing at your clit and his tip hitting your special spot over and over has your cunt clenching around him before you could even think.

If you hadn’t been in heat, you most likely would have died during the mating session, but while you were in season your body produced so much more lubricant and pheromones that helped you take him inside of you.

You felt so warm when he came inside, thick ropes of hot and sticky cum filling your little womb. Your heat eased a bit as you were thoroughly bred. You knew that this would ensure pregnancy, even if all you had to go off of was instinct alone.

“Little one…”

He purred into your ear, keeping his cock inside of you to make sure none of his cum leaked out. His tongue licked at your neck and hair again, grooming you out of affection now.

“My mate, my sweetheart… I’ll take care of you, alright?”

And that was enough for you. Now all you wanted was a mate and somewhere warm to sleep with three meals a day. It was clear that he could provide that.

So you slept without worry, curled up with your mate, your new provider.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[chuluoyi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 (𝐔𝐍)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋

- sylus x reader

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry

note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg

Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.

The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.

What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.

“I don't mind to spend the whole night with you,” he’d whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.

And you’d respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.

“Ahh... ah!” Before you knew it, his cock—thick and long in size—slid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.

“Keep me going with your voice, kitten.” Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. “Yeah, just like that...”

Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way too—

“Is this... all you've got?” you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. “Surely... y-you can do better...”

“Ha,” he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. “Careful what you wish for... sweetie.”

And then your vision literally tilted upside down—Sylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.

“—!” Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.

He broke into a satisfied smirk. “Let it out,” he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. “You never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, don’t start now.”

“You b-bastard...” you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.

He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.

It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.

You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.

“Tired?” Sylus’ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. “I really like this look on your face right now.”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. “I bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.”

“How presumptuous.” He sent you a sour scowl. “I have a high standard— you should consider yourself lucky.”

Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. “I’m cold. Clean me up already.”

“Now, now… what a spoiled little thing you are…” Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.

Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.

No strings attached.

This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?

At least, you thought so.

. . .

“Damn, you’re going to make me sore…” you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. “Ahh...”

Sylus’ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. “Well, I’m just that good, and you did ask for it.”

“Are you going out?” you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. “It’s midnight.”

“Luke and Kieran said she has arrived.” Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. “After all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.”

The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.

A part of you didn’t really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. “Will you bring her here too?”

“I’ll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,” he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.

Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himself—he isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evol—the Speech Manipulation—which is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.

This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. “Well, consider me jealous then. Seems like I’ll have a rival soon.”

Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Ha.” Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. “Is there even anyone brave enough to go against you?”

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “We shall see about that.”

Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.

You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.

But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himself— having her shoot him right in the heart.

“She is funny,” he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. “She was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.”

“Is that your only finding—” you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. “—after shooting yourself just to mess with her?”

Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.

“Is that really necessary?” you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. “Or are you just trying to get her attention?”

Sylus’ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.

“What’s got you so worked up about this, hmm?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. “Last I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each other’s personal affairs.”

Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.

But the fact remains that you two are nothing more than—

“Fine.” You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldn’t say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.

Until you felt a hard tug on your arm—

“And where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?”

Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wall—your left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.

His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.

“Have I ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?” Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. “If I didn’t know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, I’d want you to look at me like this every day.”

It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? We’ve been closer than this,” Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. “What’s making you so nervous?”

If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”

“How lovely.”

“You’re infuriating,” you spat, devoid of any amusement.

He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughly—

“Then perhaps...” he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: “You can help to fix me, sweetie.”

His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.

As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.

. . .

"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.

"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."

"I can't sleep."

"Poor you. I can though."

You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."

"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"

Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.

"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.

"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Why are you hugging me? We’re not usually this touchy after sex."

"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."

"You're so damn insufferable..."

Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...

You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Mephisto, shush.”

Sylus’ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldn’t be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.

You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.

“Luke, Kieran,” you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. “Where did Sylus go?”

Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, “Boss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!”

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were nonetheless. “And he still hasn’t come back?”

“Ah, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. He’s probably back or already on his way?” Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.

It irritated you, it gnawed at you—how Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbook—

Just as he had done when he pursued you.

Calling her “kitten”, “sweetie”... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.

Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.

You were petty, and you knew it.

“Mephisto,” you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. “Go find and bother her, okay? Don’t let her out of your sight,” you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.

Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.

You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk into—

Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl… nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.

“Y/N?” Sylus looked at you over the girl’s shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.

In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. “I-it’s not what it looks like! I swear! Sylus— I was just trying to find his brooch and—!”

In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanations—none of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.

You weren’t sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.

“Sorry for intruding,” you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.

It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.

Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldn’t even find the tears to cry—as you weren't allowed to do so.

Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.

You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.

And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.

"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.

"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.

"Or the missus?" Kieran supplied.

Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, you’d spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.

They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.

"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.

He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.

But why didn't you come to him?

And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?

However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.

At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.

You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didn’t know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.

And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.

...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.

. . .

"Mm-hm, really?"

"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."

You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.

"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.

"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your name—"

You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"

"Very much so!"

This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:

"Halt."

He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.

"W-what happened—!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.

"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."

With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.

You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.

"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."

The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.

"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."

Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"

"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"

Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.

"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairs—"

You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "You—!"

He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.

This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.

At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."

And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?

You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings, did he?

"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprint—

Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "You—"

"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."

"Listen to me!"

He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was faster—

"Move."

His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.

. . .

The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.

You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.

It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.

You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?

You got your answer sooner than you thought.

White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.

No, the feelings didn’t go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.

And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"

"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"

"So much blood—! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"

"Boss! We found her!"

"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."

"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."

You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.

Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.

"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."

What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?

Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one point—

"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.

You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"

"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."

Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.

And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.

When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.

At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.

"Awake?"

Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.

He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.

However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.

"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.

The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"

His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"

"There’s no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You must’ve done something."

“Ha, when it comes to these things, you’re sharp,” Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.

"Answer me."

"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."

"You..." you were rendered speechless. "You—what? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"

Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.

"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."

"H-how... why..."

"That was your only chance, or you would’ve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."

The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."

Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.

He gave it up to save you.

Still, it confused you.

“If I died...” you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Then it just means I’m no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.”

You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. “So why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?”

There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?

Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.

But no, it wasn’t anything sensual like he usually did. His hand—large and warm—was a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"

You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.

"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."

Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.

You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadn’t dared to hope for more.

“The naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,” he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. “So now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.”

His red gaze narrowed as he added. “Moreover, since I have saved your life— you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you can’t rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?”

Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. “You shameless bastard...”

And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.

Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talks— just you being alive and well in his embrace.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.”

“Three weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?”

Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. “It’s been horrid.”

Neither of you would be caught dead saying “I love you”, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.

[scara-writes]

paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

[quantum1mmortality]

Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3

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Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing

!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!

Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else

Not proofread

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Sfw

I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.

I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.

When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.

Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool

If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3

He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.

He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."

After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.

He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had 😭😭 (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)

Nsfw

Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.

He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.

He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.

So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.

He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance

He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.

Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.

Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.

I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them 🙏🙏🙏🙏 sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.

The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.

Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

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A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng

[clockwayswrites]

Bitty birb in the nest is worth...? Part 19

Masterpost This is going to have many typos and spelling issues, but it currently feels like I've got an ice pick in my temple and my skin hurts so there's no rereading happening atm. Sorry!

-

Danny looked up as Tim Drake-Wayne strode into the lab and closed the door quietly behind himself.

“Tim?”

“Mm-hum?” Tim hummed as he sat down his thermos before he shed his messenger bag, coat, and school jacket onto an open part of desk.

Danny watched on with bemusement. The kid looked half asleep. “Not that it isn’t great to see you again, but what are you doing here, honey?”

“Bruce is on a call running Luthor in circles and then has to talk to legal about some stuff because Luthor is always an ass. We’re supposed to go run an errand and then to dinner together, so I’m stuck here until he’s ready to leave for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said honestly.

“It’s okay, at least Bruce won’t forget, not like—” Tim shut his mouth with a snap, seemingly suddenly thinking about what he was saying.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Danny said, because he did. “You need somewhere to hide out then?”

“Yeah, it’s… calm here.”

“Okay. Sit wherever you want that’s clear. If you need to move something, let me know first, okay?”

“Thanks,” Tim said, shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“Of course, whenever you need.”

Not wanting to push Tim in any way, Danny kept a subtle eye on the boy as Tim absently wandered around Danny’s office. To Tim’s credit, he did try to touch anything or move things around, even as he obviously grew increasingly tired.

It would be a lot, Danny supposed, to be a teen ager trying to live up to the legacy of two important families in the area, learn the business, go to school, and (hopefully) also spend time with friends. Danny knew how hard it had been only having Phantom as an obligation.

While, sure, Danny wished Tim had made chosen a less neck cramping spot, he was happy to see Tim finally settle down and seemingly fall asleep… under one of Danny’s work benches. Danny couldn’t fuss too much, he’d done that plenty in grad school himself. Once Tim seemed properly asleep, Danny got up to fetch his cardigan from the hook by the door and took it to drape over the sleeping kid. Tim let a little huffed breath of air before he snuggled further into the cardigan and settled back into sleep.

It made Danny’s heart melt in a way that he didn’t want to think too hard about.

It really was no surprise when about forty-five minutes later one Bruce Wayne poked his head into Danny’s office. The door was hardly open when Danny had his finger up and over his mouth in the universal sign of ‘shush’.

Bruce titled his head curiously. Danny gave a little nod of his head towards the workbench that Tim was sleeping under. Silently, Bruce moved to the work bench and crouched down next to it. There was a soft, amused sound before Bruce reached out to brush his hand over Tim’s forehead, as if habitually checking for a fever.

When Bruce returned to where Danny was working, he asked softly, “How long has he been asleep?”

“A little over a half hour. It took him about ten minutes to settle in,” Danny answered, voice equally quiet.

“Then do you mind if I let him keep resting for another fifteen minutes or so? He’s likely to wake up on his own then.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, let the kid rest. He seems like he needs it.”

Bruce glanced at Tim, his expression that soft sort of worried only parents seemed to get. “He does. He works too hard at… everything. He’s always trying to prove himself even when he doesn’t need to anymore.”

Danny made a little questioning noise as he got back to fiddling with the annoyingly tiny screws.

“His parents were�� demanding. They had very exacting ideas of what proper high society behavior was,” Bruce explained. “I’m sadly not the best suited at dismantling those ideas either.”

“Ah… well, what do you do that encourages him to be a kid?” Danny asked.

“He skateboards, actually. And he enjoys photography, but even that became a goal what with art competitions at school.”

“Maybe take him and Damian on a mini art vacation? Somewhere pretty. Somewhere where it’s not about judges,” Danny suggested. He finally got the last screw seated so he glanced up at Bruce’s thoughtful face.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said. “I’ll start looking at what might work. Thank you.”

“Sure, ideas are kinda what I do,” Danny said and motioned to the office around him with the screwdriver.

Bruce’s answering chuckle was low and warm. “I suppose it is. I hope you’re also not overworking yourself.”

“I’m doing much better,” Danny assured Bruce. “I just needed some rest.”

“Which my children made sure you got. I’m still sorry that they kept you so long on Friday.”

It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you really have much control over what they do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Bruce admitted. “But I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

“That’s good; they’re a pretty amazing family,” Danny said with a soft smile. “And if I don’t get to be sorry about falling asleep, you don’t get to be sorry about making me rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”

“I am a master business man,” Danny teased and ducked his head to hide his smile.

“I’ll have to watch for corporate take overs. Keep an eye on the stocks and papers.”

“Maybe. Oh, speaking of… Well, not speaking of but sort of related? You know, I was joking about us making the papers.”

Bruce hummed curiously so Danny set aside his tools to pull up the story that several coworkers had sent him on his table. He spun it to face Bruce. The picture of them in the box was big on the screen. They were pressed almost chest to chest with Bruce’s arms around Danny. It certainly looked incriminating.

“Well shit,” Bruce said with a sigh. He picked up the tablet to scan through the article. There wasn’t anything in it, of course, just wild speculation. “I hope you haven’t been harassed about this by anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who I am to harass me,” Danny said honestly. “Some coworkers have sent me it, but apparently it’s just my luck to have both randomly run into a Wayne and be invited to an event and have one of my ‘spells’ when I’m around them.”

Bruce looked at him with one well manicured brow raised. “You have interesting luck.”

“Yep. It’s been quite a life so far. I was pretty much born into interesting luck and life has really lived up to that luck and died by it,” Danny said with a little chuckle as he took his tablet back.

“I feel concerned by that last part.”

Danny hummed in question, distracted by pulling his notes back up.

“The having died by the luck part.”

“Oh.” Danny smiled, but he knew that expression was less than a happy one. “I think I mentioned that there was an accident when I was a kid?”

Bruce nodded and lean his elbows on the work bench and crosses his arms. “You did. One that is apparently still affecting your pulse to this day.”

“Yes, well,” Danny glanced away from Bruce. Why was it still so hard to talk about. “When I was fourteen, I was electrocuted at at an… industrial level of voltage. Unsurprisingly it killed me. And hey, obviously I came back! But that sort of thing sticks around.”

“I’m sorry.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, honestly startled. In all this time, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a ‘I’m sorry’ about his accident, not without strings attached. His lips quirked into a smile again. This one felt more pleasant. “Thanks. Trust me though, I’m grateful that life has, had been calmer.”

Whatever Bruce was going to say to that was cut off by a loud yawn, the sound of someone shifting around, and then the unmistakable bang of a limb against the metal legs of one of the workbenches.

Quiet cussing followed a moment later.

“You okay there, Tim?” Danny asked.

“Fine,” Tim hissed back.

“I’m sure I have an instant icepack in my office. We can grab one before we leave,” Bruce said.

“B?” Tim asked, voice noticeably brighter. A moment later he appeared out from under the desk.

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry that I had to take that call,” Bruce said as he stepped over to Tim. He reached out to brush the teen’s hair a little straighter.

“It’s fine, it’s Lex, I get it.”

“I know you get it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be fine.”

Tim just shrugged. The action made him notice the the cardigan draped over his shoulders. A little blush rose on his cheeks as he took it off and handed it back to Danny. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Tim, you weren’t any problem,” Danny assured him. “You’re welcome in my office whenever.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Tim said.

Danny just shrugged with a smile.

“Come on, chum, let’s go find that icepack. We’ll still get to your store before it closes,” Bruce said and started to guide Tim out by the shoulder.

Bruce glanced behind him and Danny gave a little wave to the retreating Waynes.

His luck indeed.

-

“What happened in Danny’s office that’s bothering you?” Tim asked. He had the icepack pressed against his elbow and was sitting almost sideways so that he could take in all of Bruce’s expression.

Bruce was doing that thing where he was feeling big, complicated emotions and wishing he wasn’t. Tim could read it in the way that Bruce’s shoulders were set, that little bit of tightening under his eyes, and the way he was very purposefully not frowning.

“B,” Tim pressed.

Bruce sighed, the sound all of his air. “I think we should leave Danny alone, both as Waynes and as Bats.”

Tim jolted and scrambled to sit up further. “Wait, what? Bruce, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Bruce assured Tim. “Nothing bad happened. Vicky got a picture of Danny and I at the ballet. We spoke some about it and Danny talked about how he had interesting luck. He said he was grateful that life has been calmer; he had to change that to had.”

“…oh.”

“It’s just that—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to the others about it because you know they won’t listen to you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“It’s fine, I get it.”