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monstersholygrail · 1 month ago

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It isn’t often that your Wolf Hybrid bf isn’t touching you, a Puppy Hybrid, in some way, shape, or form. A hand smacking your ass as you pass him, his grip on your waist as he draws you into his chest, and his face always tucked into your neck to catch your scent.

But it’s always a million times worse when he’s in his run. Cute smacks on your bottom turn into full blown spanking as he bends you over the nearest surface and rails you from behind.

His hands grab your waist and as soon as your back hits his chest he’s grinding his hard erection into the cleft of your ass. Practically tearing through your clothes to get to your dripping cunt.

And every time he goes in to sniff at your scent, he doesn’t just stop there. Dragging his nose down your soft curves till he’s stuffing his face into your pretty pussy and feasting on you like a man starved. Prepping you and fucking you, refusing to stop until your scent is perfectly mixed in with his.

Then just as his rut stops and he thinks he’ll be able to give you, his poor pup, a break, your heat starts. And of course you’re absolutely no better. Despite all of your bfs concerns for how much your soft squishy body can take he can never deny you a thing.

Even as unlike him you never give him a warning. You always seem to come out of nowhere and pounce on him without a moments of hesitation. He always follows by grunting as his back hits the ground, his arms curling around you to make sure you don’t get hurt.

“Maybe wanna give me a moment to breathe, mama?”

You nearly cum right then and there from the nickname alone. Your bf must notice what he said too and maybe it’s remnants of his rut but the nickname does something wild to his body, his cock growing rock hard instantly.

Which of course you use to your advantage, whimpering and whining as you hump your bare soaked pussy against his clothed bulge. Making your bf growl furiously, hands moving to guide your hips against him. He can feel your gushing pussy soak through his pants and his cock twitches at the warmth radiating from your core.

“Need my cock don’t ya, pretty? Won’t stop pawing at me till I fill ya with my seed, hmm.”

You can’t even talk, your head all cloudy and thick, and your body burning with so much need you feel like you’re about to explode. Your tail thumps heavily behind you, demanding he take care of you.

“What’s that, baby? I’m not quite sure what’cha want.”

A sick smirk spreads across his face as his hips buck and grind against your sopping cunt. Pleasure explodes behind your eyelids but it’s just not enough. You need him inside of you, praying he understands and takes you just like you need.

“C’mon, use your words, now. Neither of wanna wait on your bratty ass.”

A annoyed grumble rolls through your throat, puppy ears falling back and tail thumping a little harder. He knows what you need but he’s always gotta make it difficult. Never wasting a chance to tease you till you just can’t take it anymore.

“Baby—nngh— please! Fuck me, dammit!”

Your bf snarls and before you can even blink even flipping you over onto your back tearing your clothes to shreds. As his big red tip brushes through your throbbing folds, you instinctively reach for it, back arching into him.

“Aye, that’s it, ma. Lemme take care of ya. You just sit back all nice and relax.”

Then he’s sliding into you, his thick girth stretching you so good your eyes roll back in their head. His claws dig into your plush waist, holding you still as he starts fucking up into you like he’s the one going through a heat and not you.

Your cries of ecstasy bounce off the walls each time his cock slams back into you, his pace relentless, never giving you a moment to catch your breath.

With all the strength you have left you cling to him and try and meet his desperate thrusts. But with a rough growl your bf pushes your hips into the ground and spears into you even harder. Making you absolutely crazy with lust.

“Dont. Move,” he rasps, “Didn’t get it during my rut but mark my words imma get you pregnant during this heat. Make you a real mama.”

His words have your cunt gushing around his cock and the brutal rocking of his hips sends you flying higher and higher. Each thrust brings a loud squelch, letting him know just how unbelievably turned on you are.

Moans pour out of you in waves as your body begins to shake. Squirming and writhing on your bfs hard cock as much as you can before he pins you down even harder. A dark chuckle leaving him as he watches you.

“You want that, huh? Fuckin’ show me. Milk my cock. Augh!— Take it, t-take every drop!”

His hand snakes down and expertly begins rubbing tight circles in your swollen bundle of nerves. You’re wound so tightly you can’t hold your climax back as it blows through you, your scream so loud it rings in your ears as you violently tremble in his arms.

Your Wolf bf lets out a terrifying roar and follows right after you into the bliss of your release. His pace never faltering as he works you both through your orgasms.

The second it begins to fade your bf scoops you up into his arms and rolls himself on the ground, making you use him as a pillow. You go to voice your concern about the hard floor but almost as if he knows what you’re about to say before you say it he quickly shushes you. Placing a hand on the back of your head he starts to pet you.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby girl. Just relax before the next wave of heat comes.”

You whine softly into his skin but listen to his words, knowing it’ll come sooner than you’re ready for. But you have no doubt your bf will be there to work you through it, spilling you with as much of his cum as he needs for it to take.

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blueivyy99 · 1 month ago

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Calm and Serenity (Part 2)

Sylus x Non!Mc

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader (this is it for now)

note: thank you for the love in the previous chapter 🥹

Series Masterlist

It's been a month or two since the last time you've been with Sylus. It saddens you that the time you get to spend together is cut short, only seeing each other at night when he pleases to have dinner or greet you goodnight.

You asked Luke and Kieran about what's happening, but they don't know either. They just know it has something to do with Miss Hunter, about Aether Core, about something that you have very little knowledge about. You mentally noted to search about it later.

“He is very grumpy lately,” Luke said, "He was glaring at us like he wants to skin us alive whenever me and my twin are being a little louder than normal.”

"The only one safe from his anger is Miss Hunter,” Kieran added. "I don't appreciate that Boss is playing favorites in our team.”

You tried not to let out a shaky breath. Luke noticed and he had to elbow Kieran to make him shut up.

"Sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I'll try and catch Sylus one of these days. I'll talk to him.”

The twins scurry away while arguing. They think they offended you and they are passing on the blame with each other.

On normal days, it's not easy to get you offended but lately, every little thing just makes you … sensitive.

Maybe it started when you wanted that crow brooch that is neatly placed on Sylus's table …

When you asked him for it he just said, “It's for Miss Hunter,"

He took it from your hand. Albeit gently, it still weighed heavy in your heart.

You know you don't always get your way but with the little seeds of jealousy slowly growing in your heart, it's easy to feel hurt and feel neglected.

You just wanted that damn brooch and you know that he can buy another piece. Or even make you a custom-made one, one that is more inclined on your taste.

You took a deep breath.

Sylus is stressed. You know that and it's not right to add more to his burden. It's just a brooch after all.

“I-I didn't know, but when you have the time to grab one, remember me, okay?” you said.

"Next time, sweetie.” He replied and quickly went back to reading reports.

You don't know if he took your words seriously, but you have enough faith in him to trust that he did.

Or maybe the disappointment started when you wanted to go to Linkon.

There's a newly opened arcade shop that you're really itching to go.

Normally, Sylus would agree and watch you play. He's not the best when it comes to the claw machine, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when he rejected your offer. Not only that, the answer that followed chipped away at your heart little by little.

“Me and Miss Hunter already went there. It's not as fun as the other ones you've tried. You're just gonna waste your time there. Not even new plushies,” he even had the audacity to roll his eyes at that.

It seemed like he didn't think before speaking or he didn't see anything wrong with what he said.

Truthfully, there is none. The logical part of you knows he didn't say anything wrong. But for fuck's sake! Really telling your girlfriend that you went to the arcade with another woman? That's new. That's not something she expected of Sylus.

“You went with her?" you asked. You're anticipating his answer. Praying it's something logical. Something acceptable.

Please tell me it has something to do with those missions.

He looked at you, trying to see what's in your mind but you didn't show anything. Blocking any negative emotions from seeping on the cracks of your face. You tried to look as curious and as genuine as you can be.

Thankfully, he believed that.

“Yes. We went there after getting some intel around the area. She dragged me inside and she played until her heart's content. I remembered she went home with that crow plushie with a bib. She looked happy,"

You almost wanted to scoff at his face. You wanted that plushe as well, he seemed to forget about that. If it's only about the plushie maybe you can push down these negative feelings but here he is looking so endeared while saying that. As if he's not talking to his girlfriend.

Patience. Patience.

“I see. Good for her.” you said. "I also want that crow stuffed toy. Good thing to know they have them."

You tried giving him a hint. It's not like you to make anyone guess what's on your mind.

But then there's silence. And a beep on his phone. He tore his gaze away from you and your statement long forgotten.

At that point, you're holding yourself together trying not to scream and yell at him.

Maybe that's where it started. Maybe it's when you know that the distractions were not just caused by the missions but by Miss Hunter herself.

You sighed. It's evening and Sylus is still nowhere to be found. You texted him but you're met with silence. You wanted to call, but you hesitated. It feels like you don't have the right to do it.

Worry starts gnawing at you when Luke and Kieran hurriedly go out. They didn't even have the chance to say a proper goodbye.

Minutes kept ticking, and you heard it.

Explosions.

Your heart stopped and you wanted to run to where it was because something tells you that Sylus is there. He's in danger.

But before you can even step out of the base, Sylus's men stopped you.

“Boss’s orders to not let the Madame go out when the mission is in full swing. Please wait for him here."

You wanted to pull your hair out. You're trembling with worry but anywhere you go, someone will stop you. You can't even sneak out because that will surely trigger the alarms.

With a heavy heart you slumped on the couch.

“Fucking hell, Sylus what is happening when are you coming home!” you muttered to yourself.

You kept pacing and pacing every second seemed to last a lifetime.

Until the door opened.

And there he was, shirt torn, hair deshiveled and a few scratches on his body.

"Thank God you're alive!” you exclaimed and caught his heavy body before he lost consciousness.

"Sylus? Sylus!” you tried shaking him, but he won't wake up.

You settled him on the couch and grabbed the nearest first aid kit you can reach. Sylus might have the fastest regeneration in the world but it won't ease your worries about the small cuts that still remains on his body.

You tried suppressing your tears seeing him like this but you just can't. As you press the cotton on his cuts, you can't help but open your mouth and nag him about being careless.

“I know you think that this body is invincible, but please be careful! You need to come home to me. You have to come home to me. No matter how I'm annoyed at you right now, you don't have the rights to make me worry like this.”

“What's so important in that mission that you exhaust yourself like this? What's so important about Miss Hunter that you're willing to do such great lengths?"

You know that he can't hear you, but still you talked to him until you calmed down and ask his men to help you settle him in bed after changing him. You called the physician to check him up for anything. You kept yourself busy to shrugg of the nerves but those questions still linger in your head.

Sylus is a strategist even though he looks smug and arrogant. He carefully plans everything and tries to move in quiet only letting the results speak for themselves.

But this? This is not the usual.

Explosions everywhere and declaring a full on war with his enemies is not his style. You know that there's nothing really beneficial for him in this deal with Miss Hunter.

You managed to understand a bit about what their goals are. Getting that Aether core for Miss Hunter.

Tough mission, yes. But Sylus won't grab it if he won't benefit from it. And that's what you're left puzzled with. Sylus is a businessman, everything should be give and take.

So? What's in it for him?

You didn't expect the answer to voluntarily come to you. You went to his study to look for something or anything that you can help him with now that he's still unconscious when you stumbled upon a journal.

You thought it was not Sylus's. You never see him as someone who will write down his thoughts but you were dead wrong.

You opened it expecting it to be a list of things related to Onychinus, but you were greeted with phrases, sentences and some sketches about Miss Hunter.

You read each of them, it was a jumble of words. You almost thought it was a fairytale.

Past lives.

Dragon and Sorceress.

Kindred Spirits.

Energy Linkage.

Sweet Evil Trap.

All of it is too much. Too much for your poor little heart to take. And from what you understood, Miss Hunter is from his past. Someone who has a part of his soul.

Someone he waits for.

And the bitter realization although still unfounded, you concluded that maybe she's someone he still loves.

But what about you? What's your place in the grand scheme of things?

“I’m keeping you around because you’re still useful.”

Those lines ring in your ears. Sylus always say that to everyone but you. You thought that maybe you are an exception. That you're not someone disposable to him because you matter.

And as you soak up all the information that you knew, you started to doubt yourself as well.

note: aaackkk thank u for reading lemme know your thoughts! Part 3 soonest!

#sylus x non mc #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #caleb x non mc #rafayel x non mc #non mc reader

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gamblersdoll · 4 months ago

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divorced husband! katsuki who’s still in love with you— always breaking a potential relationship up. and it takes one simple thing: a text.

finally pressing through the woods of dating pools, apps and events, you thought you could get a break. a fucking deserved break! no more heroes, just civilians. theyd make more time and effort for the relationship! thats all you thought about, effort and time. it takes you a couple of times to finally emerge into the dating pools, but it was working.

was working, until that fuck decided to text you.

“hows your date going, baby? you know daddy misses you.”

your heart drops, how the actual fuck did he know that you were on a date?? you wanted to grind your teeth, your date sweaty now.

“so.. you used to date— dynamight?” he asks, hoping and praying that you didnt, because he knew hed be fucked up if you did. he had so many questions, for how long? when ? did you guys have kids?—

“we were married, but i divorced him.” you say, sighing when he quickly gathers his things to dine and dash out the semi fancy restaurant. another spoiled date, you thought. or maybe the date you chose was simply a bitch, obviously you wouldnt want that.

but he was the seventh spoiled date, for some reason— conveniently, katsuki was always aware.

“why do you make me do this, baby?” he whispered in your ear, hands in your panties copping a feel of your plump ass. he sucks in a breath, almost like he was resisting the temptation to get on his knees.. again. “what with all these dates ‘nd shit..? you really wanna move on from me?”

“we’re— fuck.. divorced, you perverted asshole.” you grit, trying your best to push him away. “get off and out.”

“jeez, you’re pickin’ up on my language.” he snickers, reminiscing on his art that littered your neck. “you vowed to me, ya know? that yer’ always mine.”

a irritation grew over you. “when you married me, and you werent always away from me.” you remind, putting salt in the wound. “maybe if you were around , we’d be married and you would have every right to do this.”

now he was irritated, flipping you onto your stomach on what used to be your dining table. he chuckled, pulling your head back by your hair and wagging his finger in your face. you somewhat missed when he did this, dominating you in the bedroom. “ah ah, i still have every right.” he coos, his fingers flicking at your entrance and slipping pass. “you havent gotten away from me, not at all.”

“katsuki—“

“uh uh, quiet.” he commands, pressing your face against the table as he hikes your leg up to crouch. “has this pretty little thing missed me?”

“no, i havent missed you.” that was a lie, a terrible one..

he leaves a slap on your ass, spitting on your clit. “meant this pretty pussy, girl.” he snarks, pulling you back by your hips to have a face full of your cunt. your breath hitches, him laughing vibrating against your skin. “still so fucking sweet.. bet you havent came in months, have you little slut?”

you nod, toes curling in embarrassment, pleasure, and sensitivity.

“you remember who yer daddy is, do ya?” he asks, tongue swirling around your clit. his hands press against the under cup of your ass, squeezing and jiggling. “i am, im yer daddy.” he reminds, licking up from your clit to your back to kiss. “how bad do you want me, baby? use your words.”

you couldnt , using your eyes. “please.”

“cmon’, dont tell me only months being separated you forget yer manners.” he raises an eyebrow, suddenly his tip was smearing pre up and down your slit. “do i need to remind you basics, baby?”

you shook your head frantic, he bitting his lip to bite back the urge to bite you.

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lilacgaby · 5 months ago

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katsuki didn't expect to be here today.

with you, a gorgeous woman at that, laid in his arms. found passed out in the meadows, a flower bed beneath the two of you. time still, wind blowing through your bodies as you rested.

he had been out hunting, blowing off smoke. annoyed at his current situation of being forced to marry a woman he didn't know, one who'd likely never love him. one he knew he'd never love.

a life of loveless marriage, one he was raised under, scared him more than he'd pray tell.

he'd rushed out quickly, barging through the servants, the large doors, and his grand estate. only his bow and sword on him as he trekked through. familiar lands enveloped him, but the sight of you didn't. more importantly, the sight of you, who had started falling.

he was moving before he realized, catching you in muscled arms, the sad crunches of ruined flowers beneath him. though none compared to the sight of the one he held now.

his bow and sword discarded, hands moving out of instinct to wipe the tears off of your face. it was clear you weren't supposed to be out here, your dress one of a high noble, silks too expensive for a common folk to afford. a satchel.. one that bore an emblem that seemed all too familiar. thoug it didn't take his full attention. his body seemed all to keen to focus on you, his chest sought to match your breaths, hearts beating in tandem.

you awoke just a few moments later, eyes wide at the sight of him. he settled you next to him, as you spoke to him. "thank you, i don't know what came over me." you spoke gently, a tone of unconfidence as you looked down at your hands. a ring on your finger.

though it looked unfit on you.

"i understand." he replied gruffly, picking up his weapons behind him, hands feeling antsy to be occupied at the sight of the gorgeous stranger in front of him. "bad feelings 've been in the air lately, it seems."

you looked up at him finally, allowing him to get a clear view of your face. with eyes puffy, lips swollen and bitten, and cheeks red. he fought off a smile, this wasn't the time to be thinking of how cute you looked.

you let out a sigh of sorrow. "it's been getting to all of the heirs of age, it seems."

he held you for a minute longer, hands grasped together tightly, wordless comfort based of mutual understanding given. neither of you said anything, but you both felt like you needed it. he knew it in the way you didn't want to let him go. and you knew it in the way he didn't. it was hard for him to pull away, but he knew he had to.

after a beat, he stood up. lowering a hand to you. "no sense in worrying about the inevitable," you smiled slightly and took his hand. "right."

he looked at the sun, it was slowly falling, prime hunting time. "you should head back to wherever you came, it'll be night soon." you nodded, and brought a bag up from the floor, you opened it, and a bracelet was in your palms.

you handed it to him, the red ruby of the beads matching his eyes as they shinned in the sun. "take this, please."

he was taken aback, seemingly unaware of why you would do this for him. he tried pushing your hand away, but it was unrelenting. a stubborn look in your eyes and he rolled his, sliding it onto his wrist.

he moved to leave, when you grabbed your wrist. it was out of impulse, he felt the internal panic in your stance, your mouth hung open slightly, though no words escaping. finally though, you manage a weak, "your name?"

for the first time since his arrangement, he laughed. laughed at the simplicity of the gesture, at your expression, at his situation.

with a boyish smile, he rested your hand at your side, touch lingering for a second too long. "call me katsuki."

he turned to leave, feet feeling a little more heavy now, knowing he was walking away from you. someone he seemed to get along with so easily.

you yelled your name after him, the crunches of the grass underneath your shoes fading away too. you were gone now.

he looked back at you, feeling the beads of the bracelet under nimble fingers, before squeezing it in his palm.

the hunting went poorly, he was too distracted to aim. the night went painstakingly fast, the arrival of the family, his wife, the agenda for the day.

uncomfortable traditional clothes felt even heavier now, the chains of being binded to someone he didn't know being heavier than any chain he could break physically.

his head that was slumped on the table was now forced up, his mother kicking him in the foot to remind him to at least try and be polite. he sighed, a feeling of dread hanging over him as the footsteps neared.

each one was sealing his fate, the door click the nail in the coffin.

but all his negativity vanished, all poor thoughts ceasing at the sight of you. your eyes were just as wide as his, your hand over your face in shock. the entourage beside you confused at your expression.

"madam?"

"katsuki?" you whispered under your breath.

though he managed to hear you. how could he not when you demanded his attention so seamlessly?

but now it was his turn to be speechless. speechless at the prospect of your rank, of your arrival,

and at the realization that he'd be married to you.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis @twirlyphim @drawingforshitsandgiggles

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

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Sigh.. We all should've have chosen both wally and conner...i can't imagine the faces of batfam

how to be a heartbreaker! (again &. again concept)

ft. yandere! wally west, starfire, roy harper, artemis, conner kent, bart allen x gn! neglected! reader w/ platonic yandere! batfam.

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: age gaps but there isn't nsfw (except for conner) and the reader is described to be older than 20 in this concept and was far ignored longer than in the og story.

a/n: happy (late) halloween! 🎃 i'm praying to the gods, please don't let this post flop, i'm in my flop era fr! because i am not writing allat for it to get ignored 💔 (just kidding i love u guys, especially to all those who comment! i read all your comments even if i'm unable to reply at times). if you guys are wondering why i didn't include all the characters, it's because this is just a drabble and if anyone likes more concepts about this, please send in asks! anyways, enjoy this sweet harem au hehe.

anon, you are so right. but let me raise you this: getting together with all your siblings' teammates. i'm not just saying wally and conner, no! i'm saying the young justice, the teen titans, all their friends and old pals— the moment you come of age, hide under the radar for a few years and eventually meet them at random. you'd be giving dick, hell, even bruce, your father, mind you, a run for his money when it comes to a player reputation amongst the siblings, and the best part (or worst part for you once it's too late...) of it all is the fact that you don't even have to keep all your little relationships with them a secret when they never once bat an eye on you until recently.

the funny thing is: you didn't even have to try to attract them. it was all them approaching you at random days and getting to know you better, with you, at your lowest point, accepting any medium of attention. at first it was them feeling pity, perceptive to how your siblings chose to focus on them rather than you, but now it's them chasing after you because you're so interesting in every aspect; even if you find yourself average at best compared to your talented siblings.

maybe it's because you bring the normal out in them, or because you display such raw emotions and are an entirely separate being from vigilantism. either way, they find themselves thinking about you more often than their missions and that's harrowing.

and because you're such a pathetic, wet cat, so desperate for love; all the people you hit on develop a savior complex because of you. i don't just mean them finding you cute, or interesting, absolutely not. i mean you're constantly being thrown around like a prince or princess who needs a knight in shining armor to catch them when they fall, except you're constantly being carried in some other's arms even when you can stand on your own two feet.

you just have that special quality in you that makes everyone fall head over heels. it makes them fantasize scenarios of a home life with you; they could provide better than your current ones do, for sure. you'd be spoiled to death with kisses to your face, hands wrapped around your body, and a guarantee that you'll never feel alone or unsafe in a world full of danger that lurks around the corner.

that same quality may have also been your downfall.

wally west doesn't mind training all day to become stronger and faster to save you from every danger that lingers near your presence. hell, he doesn't complain anymore whenever dick assigns him some missions if that means he can pass by your room by the manor as an after-mission reward, loving it when you smile at him with the gentlest quip of your mouth as he hastily wraps you in his arms with the same amount of speed it took to run to your house. wally cherishes watching you in slow-time because he could worship every little part of his darling's expression, quelling the boredom he had for the entire day. he wants to be fast enough for his babe, not only just to impress them but because he wants them to see him as the only reliable individual capable enough of protecting and flirting with you. not everyone can measure up to his speed, no? nobody could keep up with this man's speed and he's known for taking you away whenever you're with someone else just to get a sliver of your time.

starfire's emotions become ablaze and so does her powers every time she notices one of your other sweethearts becoming too touchy with you, unable to comprehend why you're not even in a relationship with her yet. but you're too sweet and you bury yourself in her curly tresses to calm her down. at first that's enough! she doesn't understand the concept of physical affection and the boundaries that come with it as much as others but boy does she crave it when it comes to you. it doesn't help the fact that you're incapable of sometimes denying her affections and letting yourself be constantly kissed by the girl in every part of your face. she's very warm, though, and her curiosity about things foreign to her, paired with you teaching her more about your world, makes starfire adore her sweetheart's willingness and patience; it simply warrants another passionate kiss in the mouth from the pink-haired alien.

roy harper brings out a more rebellious side of you that you never imagine yourself sporting. his experiences in life and his rebellious relationship towards oliver queen, his adoptive father shapes him to who he is now; and he'd be damned if you drown yourself in endless misery like he did. yeah, it doesn't help that lian loves you as much as he does and he thinks you're the perfect match for him, watching you play with his little girl and care for him whenever he's injured does wonders for the fantasies that plays itself in his head, all scenarios of coming home to you after a hard day of work, just to see you and lian greet him the moment he enters your shared house with him, kissing him in the lips, telling him about the wonderfully prepared dinner you and lian whipped up for him, and watching your eyes widen at another bouquet of your favorite flowers he bought home for you. you're not in a relationship with him at all but can't a man just dream?

why dick wonders every damn time one of his friends ditch another one of their hangouts is a question never to be answered. but it's been noticeable these days that he's starting to suspect something wrong at play, especially since he's noticed tension within his comrades, and as a leader he couldn't just simply ignore the tense glares, insults to their being, and the hushed whispers; all pet names, a mantra they're used to calling you.

but dick doesn't take it seriously until it's too late.

that his baby bird long fell off the nest years ago, taken into the arms of whom he thought to be his most trusted comrades, thoroughly loved more than he could've given you. and it's not just one person smitten with you; it's an entire harem of people unwilling to share you just as much as dick who'd soon realize that he shares far more similarities with you; a heartbreaker, yet a caretaker at heart.

it's no wonder why everybody wants you for themselves. it's not only your family who loves to hear your precious laughs and gentle hands; that sets the jealousy ablaze in his heart.

jason never thought that artemis carried a softer version of her. but he's been picking up telltale signs of her donning dangling keychains, all cute doodles of her no doubt, and necklaces he's sure he's seen around the manor at times. it's not her typical style, and she never really found the appeal with cute things like crochet plushies of her; yet the designs are oddly reminiscent to someone he always called his angel. but whenever he tries to bring the topic up, he only receives a snarky reply, a protective hold on her things, and a familiar phrase telling him to mind his business. he isn't aware of how she met you one time after you've nearly been crushed to death by a car accelerating at you, if not for her taking the blunt end of the hit. ever since that day you've been seeing her regularly by alleyways watching over you as your guardian and giving her tokens of appreciation, albeit small, that she keeps as her prized properties; ones nobody has special access to touch. she's not much of a heckler for physical touch, but she occasionally gives you a head scratches and the rare peck to your lips.

jason doesn't like how jealous he is towards her, because of how the would-be stranger treats her and why he can't seem to pinpoint the primal urge to rip those little trinkets from her. sometimes he feels like a man possessed, eyeing the keychains and the random pastel bracelets longer, all warranting the same angered glare artemis reciprocates.

he swore he's seen them before, splayed across the random rooms in the manor, some even being in the library; things he loved to fiddle with whenever he was bored out of his mind. so seeing them being proudly displayed by artemis triggers visceral reactions within him.

but could jason do anything about it when he's part of the reason why your roster consists of your family's comrades? no.

if you couldn't get attention from your family, you'll just have to get it through their affiliations. yeah, some are older than you, but god are you treated like divinity with just how willing they are to kneel upon your feet just to gain a crumb of your attention. even the strongest lay weak whenever you look at them with disappointment or sadness with your wide, captivating eyes.

all the times tim drake would be with teammates, he'd notice how their eyes look at him expectantly, as if waiting for another one to accompany them. at first he ignores it, but the longer their strange behavior persists, he begins opening a case about his close friends.

he soon realizes that conner has a record of mentioning "his cute little darling," and how he'd brag to his other friends about how left his jacket and all his favorite t-shirts in your room and how you're always drowning in his scent— always quiping about just how much it smells like you and how he enjoys wearing all his clothes right after you wear them just to get a whiff of your presence in his life; you being his motivation to fight against crime just so he could see your pretty face and tell him you're proud of him. undeniably, he's the one who spends the longest time with you and he's prideful about it, being the only man with the privilege to touch every part of your skin, wishing to melt against you just so he'd be branded in your body like how your name is the only sweet thing he can taste in his mouth.

it's not only conner, but bart allen would bounce around more often demanding that it's unfair how conner gets everything and how he gets little time with you, with just how often you get thrown around by all your love interests! he'd admit just how cute he finds you whenever you coo about him and play with his messy locks of hair whenever it's his time of the week to visit you right after missions. spending time with him is arguably the most casual part of your life, because he loves to help you with your daily errands despite him complaining about the same tasks to his other teammates... he says it's because you stimulate every part of his brain to find satisfaction in every small action that you do, but it's not only that, rather, he wishes to gain all your praises that you sing for him, never finding boredom in your presence at all.

tim's the first one who pieces the jigsaw puzzle together, but he's thoroughly astounded either way at just how smitten they are with you. it makes him open an entirely different case that's just about you; where he discovers how you're connected with nearly everyone close to him and his siblings.

it makes him wonder what makes you all the more interesting. it's how exactly he spirals into a periodic cluster of events investigating your entire life and drowning himself in work, terabytes of files each analyzed carefully— all about you, your past, and present situation. tim drake never saw a person this admired that much, so much so that online stalking lead to physical stalking.

all your dm's are spammed by countless people, and you don't even take the initiative to reply because you'd be too busy being tossed around by the time the vigilante tracks your location. it's honestly amusing at first but the longer tim become a third perspective to your life, the more he craves your physical presence, just to get a taste of dissecting all the thoughts in your brain. but with just how often their friends fight over you, it'd be hard to rip you away from the clawing hands of all your admirers.

that's why he sets a plan into motion. if he couldn't have you to himself, then he could at least share you with the closest people he had in his life— not with all the strangers who think they know his younger sibling better than he does.

a simple document, many actually, so documents, were all he needed, with printed stacks of a4 paper compiling each and every known fact about you.

all in the name of love, he'd give it out to every member of the family in quick succession.

a hefty reminder to take back what once was theirs.

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postmortemnivis · 1 year ago

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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ittybittyfanblog · 4 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry. (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment.

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream.

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off.

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black.

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications.

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending.

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts.

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

… You cave on the fifth day.

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment]

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours.

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me.

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word.

Dont shut me out.

Please.

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams.

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them.

You set your phone down.

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops.

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered.

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb.

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling.

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out.

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space.

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then.

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow grey.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll.

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will.

––––

“Hey, you okay?”

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Anytime, darling.

I mean it.

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?”

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store.

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath.

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent.

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain.

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor.

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back.

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most.

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make.

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes.

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button.

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless.

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision.

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized.

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing.

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does.

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope?

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far.

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin.

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red.

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark.

And unread mail. So much unread mail.

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you.

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you.

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being.

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps.

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red.

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues:

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating.

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you?

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break.

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you.

You’re afraid of what’ll come next.

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him.

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you.

As if he’d allow such a thing.

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

…

And just like that, he concedes.

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other.

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even.

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?”

“Of course.” Whatever you want.

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head.

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart.

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound.

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him.

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other.

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact.

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched.

“My lo—”

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.”

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt.

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?”

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?”

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine.

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily.

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke.

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption.

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks.

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape.

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling.

I love you.

I love you in ways that consume me.

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you.

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.”

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop.

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading.

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone.

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.”

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise.

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?”

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did.

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his.

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.”

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time.

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent.

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating.

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you.

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours.

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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xobunni0 · 4 months ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

౨ৎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … an argument with Shadow leaves you both hurt. you can’t help but wonder if he’ll come back

- 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰, — 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬, 𝐰𝐜- 1707

the quiet evening had turned heavy with tension. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. what started as a simple disagreement had spiraled out of control.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Shadow’s voice cut through, sharp and low. his crimson eyes gazing harshly at you.

“Don’t get what?” you snapped back. “That you think you can handle everything on your own? That you push me away every time I try to help?”

Shadow’s jaw tightened, his gloved hands balling into fists at his sides. “I push you away because it’s safer that way!” he shot back, his voice rising for once. “You don’t understand what it’s like to know that every time you’re near me, you could get hurt because of me.”

you took a step closer, your own frustration growing even more. “You don’t get to decide what’s safe for me, Shadow You don’t get to shut me out just because you think it’s easier”

“It’s not easier” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “but it’s better than losing you.”

his words hit you hard, but the anger and hurt was still there driving you to speak before you could think

“So what?” you said, your voice trembling. “You’d rather keep me at arm’s length, make me feel like I don’t matter just because you’re too scared to let me in?”

Shadow flinched, just barely his ears twitching at your words, but it was enough to make you regret what you said. his gaze flickered away for the briefest moment before locking back onto yours, colder now

“You don’t matter?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. “If you didn’t matter I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t care enough to argue with you.”

“Then why do you keep running away from me?” you argued, your voice breaking

for a moment, the air between you was heavy, silence filled the small space in the apartment. Shadow’s expression hardened

“I can’t do this right now” he said finally, his voice quieter but still firm. “I need time.”

your heart sank as he turned away, his figure tense as he stepped toward the door. “Shadow..-”

But he didn’t turn back. “I’ll come back” he said, his tone softening just enough to give you a glimmer of hope. “But right now… I can’t.”

and then he was gone, his form disappearing, leaving you alone.

you sank to the ground, the words you wanted to say still caught in your throat. “Please come back” you whispered to the empty space around you.

the silence in the apartment was suffocating. after Shadow left, you’d stay hoping, praying, that he would come home soon. but hours had passed and the door remained closed.

you sat on the couch, curled up in one corner with a blanket draped over you. every creak in the building, every sound from the outside made your heart jump, hoping it was him but it never was.

the argument replayed in your mind on an endless loop. every word you said, every look on his face, the way his voice had cracked slightly when he said “I need time.” you felt a lump in your throat as guilt gnawed at you. had you pushed him too far?

but then, his words echoed in your mind again. “It’s better than losing you.”

you sighed, burying your face in your hands. “Why couldn’t we just talk?” you whispered to no one

the hours dragged on. midnight turned into the early hours of the morning and still there was no sign of him. you pulled your phone from your pocket staring at the empty screen

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧' 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

your finger hovered over his contact. he said he needed time you reminded yourself. but how could you sit here doing nothing when you didn’t even know where he was or if he was okay?

before you could second-guess yourself.. you pressed the call button

it rang once, twice, three times. then it clicked to voicemail.

you tried again. and again. each unanswered call made you feel worse but you couldn’t stop. you needed to hear his voice to know he was there

finally, after the fifth call you gave up, clutching the phone in your hands. maybe you were pushing too hard. maybe he really did need space, and this was only making things worse

𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

but you couldn’t just let it end like this. you opened your messages, your fingers trembling as you typed

“Shadow please come back. I’m sorry for everything I said. I just want to talk. I can’t sleep knowing you’re out there. Please.”

you hit send and stared at the screen, the minutes dragged by, each one feeling longer

and then finally, your phone vibrated in your hand

His reply was short.

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 …

“I’m fine. Go to sleep. don’t wait on me”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the phone tightly. relief washed over you but his response felt so distant… so… cold you couldn’t leave it at that

“I can’t sleep until I know you’re coming back” you replied, your heart pounding as you pressed send

this time his response came a little quicker

“I need time to think. I’ll come back but not tonight.”

you stared at his words, your chest tightening. it wasn’t the answer you wanted, but at least he’d said he’d come back? at least he wasn’t gone for good.

“Okay” you replied. “Just… don’t shut me out. I’m here for you Shadow.”

there was no immediate reply this time and you didn’t expect one.

the first light of dawn came through the curtains, different hues of golds and oranges. you were still curled up on the couch your phone resting loosely in your hand, its screen dark. you hadn’t slept not really. you’d drifted in and out of a restless sleep. but every creak of the apartment or sound from outside jolted you awake, hoping it was him

a faint sound from the hallway stirred you awake fully. the sound of footsteps. you sat up. heart pounding, your tired eyes on the door

the lock clicked, and the door creaked open.

Shadow stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. his crimson eyes were unreadable as they met yours.

“Shadow” you whispered

he closed the door behind him, his movements hesitant. he didn’t say anything at first just stood there as if unsure of what to say or whether he should say anything at all.

you rose from the couch, your legs unsteady beneath you as you took a step toward him “You’re back.”

he nodded, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to yours. “I said I’d come back” he replied quietly. his voice was quiet, vulnerable. something he rarely let show.

you stopped just a few feet away from him, unsure if he wanted you to close the distance.

“I thought… I thought maybe you wouldn’t” you admitted, your voice trembling

Shadow’s eyes softened and he took a step closer, closing the space between you. “I’m sorry” he said, his voice low. “For leaving like that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

before you could speak, Shadow moved

he dropped to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. his head rested against your stomach as he held you close

“I’m sorry” he murmured, his voice low and thick “I’m so sorry.”

your hands hovered in the air for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden sudden action. slowly you let them rest on his shoulders, your fingers lightly brushing against the fur there

“Shadow…” you started, but he cut you off

“I shouldn’t have left” he said, his voice muffled against you. “I shouldn’t have walked away when you needed me. I thought… I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you.”

his words came out in a rush, like he’d been holding them in all night. you felt his grip tighten slightly, as though he was afraid you might pull away.

“You didn’t deserve that” he continued, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “You’ve been patient with me more than I deserve. And I just-” He exhaled shakily his head tilting upward to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

as you looked down at him, you could feel the regret in his words the way his arms clung to you

you cupped his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the soft fur of his cheeks. “I forgive you” you whispered. “But you can’t keep running away when things get hard. I need you to talk to me Shadow. I need you to let me in.”

he closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. “I’ll try” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not good at this but I’ll try. For you.”

“you mean more to me than anything,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t know how to show it sometimes.”

“You’re showing it now” you replied, your voice soft

Shadow nodded, his forehead pressing against your stomach once more. he stayed there for a long moment, holding you as if to make up for every second he’d been gone

when he finally stood, his gloved hands lingered at your waist, his gaze meeting yours. “I’m not going anywhere” he said firmly, as though to reassure both you and himself

Shadow’s arms remained securely around you. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his crimson eyes searching yours. the vulnerability you saw in them was so rare.. it made your chest tighten.

“I hurt you” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your waist as if to reassure himself you were really there. “I know an apology isn’t enough but… I’ll make this right. I swear.”

you offered him a small, reassuring smile, your hands sliding up to rest on his soft chest. His heart was beating steadily beneath your palms

“You already are Shadow. We’re okay.”

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’ll do better” he promised.

𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 💝; 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི [𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰] 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#౨ৎ #—⋆˚࿔ bf!shadow #shadow x reader #boyfriend!shadow #shadow imagine #shadow the hedgehog x reader #oneshot #shadow the hedgehog #imagine #need him #who said that #fanfic #sonic movie #sonic #sonic movie 3 #sonic the hedgehog #fluff #bf!shadow

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