#cyborg x reader

There are three things Victor notices when he shows up for regular scheduled training with the Titans.

One is that Wally West is late. Again. For the fastest man alive, he sure takes his sweet time getting everywhere. 

The second thing he notices is that Donna Troy and Garth have started sparring without everyone, Donna already having the Atlantean pinned to the mat beneath one of her muscled forearms. Roy Harper watches from the sidelines with wide eyes that say something like, I hope I’m not next.

The third thing, and most important to him, is the distinct lack of you. You’re not standing in the corner smiling at Donna’s antics, not sitting on the ground and tying your shoes, thinking of something witty to say when Wally does finally arrive.

On a good day, Victor feels your presence like sunlight. Like warmth on his skin, joy in his heart, something steady and constant. Today, he feels your absence like a thunderstorm. Heavy and loud and pouring over him until he’s soaked in it.

He sidles up to Dick. “Hey, we’re missing someone.”

The former Robin is typing something on his phone—held way too close to his face for someone as young as he is—his thumbs moving a mile a minute. 

“Yeah, Wally’s running late today.” He doesn’t even look up from his screen.

“Not the someone I had in mind,” Vic chuckles, and Dick finally looks up.

His brows pull together as he examines the room, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape when he notices your absence. “Yeah, I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one.”

“Why not?”

Dick cringes like he’s said something he’s not supposed to say, “shark week, apparently.”

Realization dawns on Victor, his mind going back to yesterday. You had seemed off. Lower energy, a little snappier than usual, and you’d looked like you were in pain after the mission and not just from the usual bruising you obtained.

Excusing himself for a minute, Victor tries your cell, only for it to go to voicemail. His heart sinks. You never ignore his calls.

He glances back at the practice room, at his comrades sparring each other, before looking down at your contact photo. Fuck it, he thinks. They’ll live one day without him.

Victor finds you in bed, curled up in a ball under a nest of blankets. You’re wide awake, watching some tv drama he’s never seen before, an arm around your waist like it’ll magically stop your stomach from aching.

“Hey, zombie, we missed you at practice today.”

You blink, not having realized he’d come in. He must’ve used the spare key you’d given him, trusting him the most out of everyone you worked with to have one. Wally had frowned when you said that but everyone else found it reasonable.

You rub at your face, suddenly feeling self conscious about how you’ve been bedrotting all day. “Zombie?” 

“Since you’re the living dead.”

“So dramatic.” You suppress an eyeroll at his stupid joke. “I’m not dead, just bleeding out.”

“Uh huh, I’m the dramatic one.”

You laugh a little at that, your cramps doubling in strength. You hunch over, pressing your stomach to your thighs. You wince, the pain doing anything but subsiding.

“Seriously, are you okay? You never miss an opportunity to beat up Wally and Roy.”

“Never better,” you groan.

He steps further into your room, settling down at the edge of your bed. The weight of him in your bed is a familiar comfort, something you’ve felt dozens of times on better nights between movies and video games.

“Can I get you anything?”

You think for a moment. “Any chance you have a heating pad on hand?”

“No but,” he flashes you an awkward smile, “I might have something better.”

“Better?”

“You trust me, right?”

“Nothing good has ever come from you saying that, Vic.”

He cocks his head to the side, “I know, I know.”

“But,” you sigh, “I’m willing to try anything.”

He hums, crawling up your mattress until he’s laying in the bed next to you. Tentatively, he wraps an arm around your waist, pressing a hand over the spot where you ache the worst.

You relax into him, your back pressed to his chest. “Not that I mind but—is this just an excuse to cuddle?”

He rests his head over yours. “Wait for it.”

And then suddenly his hand is heating up, soothing away the cold ache that’s sat between your hips all day. A moan slips through your lips, your body finally unfurling from the awkward uncomfortable position you’ve been in all day.

Slowly, the rest of his body follows suit, forming a warm cocoon around you. You lay your head back against his shoulder, the warm metal like the sun on your back.

He chuckles, sending vibrations down your spine. “That feel better?”

“So much better,” you sigh, resting your hand over his and pressing it harder into your stomach. “You’re the best.”

“Anytime, cutiepie.”

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You could not begin to imagine what he'd suffered through, what all of them had suffered. Call it devotion or selfishness but it was Victor that you worried about the most. How it must have felt, watching the world fall apart and all without you at his side. He'd always told you that you were his greatest comfort in life, his heart and soul and sanity. And he'd lost it all when he'd lost you, reduced, as Clark had told you, to a shell of his former self.

"He didn't laugh anymore," Superman had confessed to you during a visit. "Didn't dance or goof off, barely ever smiled. Just worked. I knew he was suffering and I wanted to help but Vic didn't want anyone's help. He only wanted you."

And he had you now.

Perhaps the universe had felt as though he'd suffered enough and given you back to him. Though it did not erase the pain and heartache, it eased it.

You eased it, just as you always had.

In some ways, you'd fallen back into routine. When Victor was working, you were at home, doing everything you'd missed. Writing and reading and, most of all, painting. He'd given you everything, turning the penthouse into a dream come true. A library full of books (he didn't want you going out to the library or book stores anymore), a rooftop garden (because you'd missed the walks in the park), any little thing you could ever ask for. But there was something so strange now...

Why couldn't you leave the penthouse?

Why were there always guards nearby if Victor wasn't there?

Why was the penthouse covered in cameras...and why did you so often feel as though you were being watched?

He always brushed your questions away with a smile and a kiss when he came home, pulling you close.

"It's not safe out there, honey," he chided sweetly. "We're still rebuilding and the truth is, the Regime has made a lot of enemies. I can't let anything happen to you."

But there was one question he never seemed to be able to answer.

"Are you okay?"

There was a sadness about him now, a sort of fear that was found only when you searched for it. It lingered in his eyes when he watched you do the most mundane of things, in his voice when he called you just to check on you throughout the day. You asked it often and Victor never truly answered it, only kissing you softly and distracting you somehow. Another gift, a romantic date night, it was so easy for him to chase the questions away.

But it wasn't as easy to just forget them.

Because when he was gone and you were alone (as alone as you could be surrounded by guards and security cameras), it all came back and you could not just forget them.

The friends you'd lost, the life you'd once lived...coffee dates at that little shop you'd loved, late night meals at the diner when he'd been working too hard. The cinema where you'd watch scary movies every Halloween, the walks through the snowy park, your entire family...it was gone.

All gone.

And sometimes you felt like a stranger, someone who shouldn't be here, walking these halls and sleeping in this bed.

Winter had come to the city.

The flowers in the garden had long since died and the trees had withered, your little Eden finding its own slumber. Walking through the garden, you were thankful that the guards lingered from far away, giving you a little space.

Where was Victor now? What was he doing?

And was he truly okay, the way he seemed to want you to believe?

Turning away from the distant city, you leaned against the brick wall with a soft sigh. you looked up into the sky and hoped for some kind of sign.

Why were you here?

Why had you, out of all of the victims, been spared?

And were you ever truly going to be okay again...either of you?

You hadn't meant to sleep. But you were often tired now, falling asleep in the garden and drifting into dreams of him, of Victor and how your life had used to be. Wrapped in one of his hoodies, memories of what once came flooding in. You'd never known him when he was just Victor Stone, just a kid who had been through something terrible. You'd met him as Cyborg, or rather, the guy who came to the diner you worked at, always ordered the same thing, always sat in the back, and never touched the book in front of him.

"Are you ever going to read it?"

"What?"

"Persuasion...you always have it but I've never seen you even look at it. Are you going to read it?"

"Honestly, I've just been using it to keep to myself when I'm out. Nobody bothers the guy sitting in the back with a book. It's a good deterrent."

"It's a good book too, one of my favorites. You should read it."

And he did. The next time he came in, he'd introduced himself for the first time. Victor. He was Victor Stone and he'd liked the book too, talking all about the story throughout the night. He'd kept coming around after that, talking about books and then about everything else. At some point, after talking for too long, Victor had stayed past closing...and he'd walked you home, becoming a new normal for you. A cup of coffee, a good book, and his hand in yours as you walked through the night.

The dream shifted, changing from the diner to the park, laughter spilling through the air.

"Are you being serious right now? You're really telling me that you've never watched any of the Fast and Furious movies? Ever?? Not even the first one?"

"I'm just not into cars, sorry!"

"Honey, you have got to watch them, me and Gar, we marathon them every year."

"Maybe I'll join you guys."

"That'd be cool...but maybe we could have our own marathon. Just you and me."

"Is that your way of asking me out?"

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll see you Saturday."

"Alright...on one condition. I get to pick the next marathon."

"Deal, honey."

"And I'm picking the Twilight Saga."

The dream changed, the two of you on the couch, cuddled up beneath the blankets. Movies flickered across the screen, all of the ones you'd watched together...Vic's action and horror movies, your romance and fantasy. But out of all of them, Persuasion was your favorite. You'd watched the 1995 version together, leaning against his chest as his arm rested on your stomach.

He'd once told you how much it meant that you never treated him any differently.

Perhaps it was because you'd never known any other Victor but this one but in truth, him being half of what he'd once been and half machine didn't mean anything to you.

You'd never minded the touch of metal or the glow of the single red eye, you never cared when he accidentally broke something with his strength. Once upon a time, he'd been terrified that no one would ever love him like this...but you'd proved him wrong and chased his fear away.

"Victor?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you."

And he hadn't been able to hold back the bright, beautiful smile nor the need to kiss you, falling over you on the couch and pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. Arms around his shoulders, you pulled him deeper into you and, truthfully, neither of you truly found your way out of one another.

"I love you too..."

Not the dangers he faced in your former life nor the ones you faced now, not even a terror attack or a coma could break you apart.

There was some magic in that.

Knowing that you could comfort him simply by being yourself, that your mere existence brought him so much joy and love. And there was magic in his kiss, tasting true love within his lips.

"Y/N...?"

You knew the answers you'd been searching for, you'd always known them. And perhaps you were beginning to understand what you needed to do now...the past was the past. It was all gone. No more movie nights with Garfield, hanging out with Star and Dick...thy were gone. Raven was too, in the saddest of ways, alive but lost in her own madness.

But you had each other and you had a future to build together and that was all you'd needed.

"Y/N!"

Waking with a start, you saw him leaning over you, clutching you desperately to his chest. Victor was shaking with fear, babbling about how he hadn't been able to find you and how worried he'd been. Reaching up, you pressed a calming hand to his cheek and whispered his name, kissing him softly, sweetly.

"I'm here, Vic...I'm right here."

For a moment, neither of you made a move.

You simply held one another, kissing and comforting him until Victor had begun to calm down.

"You're not okay but honestly, I'm not either. Nothing's okay anymore. But I think that's because we're clinging on to something we don't have anymore instead of bracing what we have left."

"What do you mean?"

"Victor, we have each other! We survived and we're together, what else do we need beyond that? You don't have to pretend with me. With everyone else, do what you want, but never with me. I need you to be honest with me, no matter what."

"I...I know you're right. I know that. But I've been so scared, Y/N, I can't lose you again."

Looking up at him, you smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

"I love you, Victor," you murmured. "More than the sun and moon and stars and I'm not going anywhere."

And that was enough for now.

"I love you, honey. I just...I love you, nothing but you."

In truth, there was a long road ahead of you. The cameras would never be taken down (you'd caught him putting up another, just to catch the blind spot he'd lost you in) and he'd never truly stop worrying over you, that simply could not be helped. But Victor was talking more about all of it, the years he'd spent without you, suffering through the heartbreak and loss alone.

He wasn't alone anymore.

Somehow, by some tangle of fate, you'd found one another. Laying against his chest, his arm around your waist, you watched the snow falling from the windows of the penthouse.

At that moment, the world seemed so pure and the nightmares seemed so far away.