#I started reading the glass scientists!

[southparkthetwosidesofacard]

I am listening! I am invested! Please yap about your au idea!!

AHHHHHHHHHIIWJHDIEHDIANRRUFIFBFIEBF HFHDB I GET TO YAP ABOUT THIS YAYYYYYY

ok so, I honestly don’t have much of an idea as to where exactly this would go, but just for the basics (which I’m mostly coming up with on the fly, I’ll be honest) here we go:

(this ended up being quite long so everything else is under the break, sorry!)

obviously, ford and bill were not always… separated, as it were. growing up and into his teens and early twenties it was just stanford pines, no “alter egos” or masks or anything of the sort (much as he would’ve loved to be able to hide who he was).

then, when he moved up to gravity falls and began his research, he began to realize that there were so many things that he wanted to do, couldn’t do, because of his reputation. he needed to keep his record clean because if he didn’t, he could easily have his grant money revoked, and any future opportunities in the pursuit of science dashed due to one small slip up. so, he began to look into, well, changing who he was, splitting himself, so to speak, as to be not one but two at the same time.

eventually, it worked somehow (probably through a potion, as jekyll uses in the original book), and he found himself as not just one, but seemingly two people in one body. there was the stanford pines most people knew, the eccentric, odd mad scientist that lived in the woods at the edge of town, and then there was another, completely new facade. bill cipher, named for his often frustratingly vague double speak and extreme use of overly complicated metaphors (yes I’m giving bill’s name a reason, it sort of annoys me that theres no reasoning for hyde’s name in the book but thats a rant for another day).

to begin with, bill seems content with simply switching back and forth at ford’s will, being the way for ford to kick back and let loose with no fear of the repercussions. at least, until ford begins to have trouble getting back to himself. thats when he begins to doubt the true intent of his other self, of bill. its around this time he calls fiddleford. the man may have studied engineering, but in this world he also knows a little something about psychology, and paired with his brilliant mind, ford’s very precise notes of the situation (ahem the journals ahem), and the fact that hes basically ford’s only friend, it felt like the best course of action.

of course, in actual gravity falls, ford does his best to hide bill from fidds but here bill is exactly why ford called him. anyone else would’ve called him crazy, tried to experiment on him or worse, but fiddeford would never do any of that and ford knows it (just to be clear, I do think that if I ever wrote anything for this au college fiddauthor would be heavily implied here).

fidds does his best to help but when bill goes on a rampage one night, going so far as to kill the heir to the northwest family, preston northwest, he knows ford is beyond fucked (just a heads up, the person bill kills being preston may change but idk, we’ll see if I ever actually come back to this au haha). the reason fiddleford originally makes the memory gun in this au isnt for himself, its actually to try and erase the memories of what bill has down from the townspeople’s minds. the only problem is that the next time they see bill all of the memories return and everyone is back at square one. its just too much for fidds, and he begins to turn the memory gun on himself in an attempt to get rid of the fear, pain, failure, and regret that helping his friend brought him.

ford on the hand is mortified by what hes done. I highly doubt that there would be a confrontation type scene, it would be closer to how the book goes, where ford quickly begins to be unable to switch between stanford pines and bill cipher. the au would probably “end” (as in if I turned this into a fanfic/comic/whatever the story would end there) with ford figuring out where stan is, calling and begging him to come up to gravity falls and help him, before ultimately turning the memory gun on himself and ridding himself of “bill” once and for all.

the only problem is that in order to remove bill, he has to remove stanford pines and all that he is as well. now, we all know how this goes in both the show and most aus; stan or ford or whoever it is that is possessed by bill erases themselves/has someone erase them, is weirdly blank for a bit but ultimately regains their memories. well here it… wouldnt work like that. bill(/hyde) is an integral part of ford(/jekyll), to remove bill(hyde) is to remove stanford pines (jekyll), theres no way around that. so, ford sort of ends up in that “blank slate” state for the rest of his life. he called stan prior to erasing himself because he knew stan would take care of him no matter what, and he was right. for the rest of their lives, stan takes care of his brother to the best of his abilities, and while they never get to sail the seas together, and some nights bring unimaginable sorrow for stan, knowing he’ll never speak to his brother again, despite the fact that very man sleeps just a few doors down the hall, they make it work. ford (or, well, whats left behind when you remove everything that makes a person who they are) sees that his blankness hurt stan but he cant do anything about it, and to begin with almost avoids stan, at least before they finally have a talk in which stan reassures “ford” that he’s sure whatever reason ford may have had for erasing himself, it was worth it.

as for fidds, well it mostly works out in a similar way to canon, he does eventually regain most memories but of course some bits are still fuzzy. the fuzzy bits are never fully recovered, as the one person who may have been able to fill in the blanks no longer exists, but fidds is still mostly alright.

the journals… sort of exist? but not in the way that they do in the show, and what does exist stan had from the very beginning. ofc the twins still have to deal with monsters and spooks and whatnot in gravity falls, just not anything that has to do with bill (which means that, of course, weirdmageddon physically cannot happen). at some point, dipper begins to insinuate that the weirdness of gravity falls might have something to do with “ford’s”… situation, which is when stan finally fully comes clean with all he knows about the situation. its not until fiddleford begins to regain his memory, however, that any of them learn the truth of what was going on.

oh yikes, I wrote a lot more for this than I meant to, whoops!

oh yeah, I’m naming this au the “Dr. Pines/Mr. Cipher” au for now, but if anyone has any better ideas or if thats already been used for something else, please let me know!

also, @aaabatteryy I LOVE MARINEFLAMES’ CONFRONTATION ANIMATIC, THAT WAS ACTUALLY WHAT I WAS REFERENCING WHEN I MENTIONED OTHER ANIMATIONS USING A SIMILAR CONCEPT TO THIS AU

oh, and I just want to say that I’ve never watched the musical so thats why this doesnt (intentionally) incorporate any elements of that.

[reminiscentrainclouds]

I love windy days. Wind is really comforting. It feels nice and it's hard to be upset on a nice, cool, cloudy, windy day.

[grabby-smitten]

Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

MIND READER

Summary: Your parents sent you to your older sister Jean Grey to spend more time with her. However, you had no idea that one of her colleagues would also want to get to know you, but in a much deeper way.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, age gap, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), little bit of choking, unprotected sex (p i v), loss of virginity, cum play, aftercare, kinda fluff

Masterlist

“C'mon sis, don't look so grumpy” Jean said to you as you make your way to the X-men Mansion. You sigh and roll your eyes with arms firmly tangled on your chest.

“It's gonna be fun…my friend's are nice” she keep tried to ease the situation, that you're going to stay in this school for gifted for a week. It was your divorced parents stupid command, to get closer to your sister. You would rather eat a moldy banana with mayonnaise, but unfortunately, you had no other choice. Not even the banana.

When you walk in, your eyes widened as you saw the enormous place from the inside. From the outside, it looked really boring and old, so you were pretty surprised that it looked really fancy. “You're living in this?” you asked Jean and she nodded with a giggle afterwards. “Trust me, this is just the beginning” she said and you follow her through the halls.

You tried to avoid all the students passing by and you immidiately understood why it's called school for gifted. All of them were mutants. You didn't have to read everyone's minds to realize that, some of them were clearly obvious, because of their unusual physical form. Some of them looked pretty normal, but they were giving you a weird energy, not the typical one from a normal human.

“So, act nice and don't be mean 'kay?” Jean stopped at the last door on the end of the hall. You nodded annoyingly and put a fake smile, as soon as she opens the door and walked in. “Hey guys!” you peeked behind Jean and quickly scan all of the people that were in the room.

“So as I promised, I'm here to introduce my little siser!” She stepped aside to reveal you, making you anxious at all the eyes being glued to your face. You waved at them and suck your lips into a thin akward line. “So that's her!” a pretty tall man with a weird glasses on his eyes walked towards you, his hand in front of you. You claim his head and shake it, reading his mind without permission. *She's really just like her sister, beautiful* you made a disgusted face, trying to keep smilling.

“Hey, I'm Jean's boyfriend-“ “Scott Summers” you cut him off and finishing his sentence, leaving him speechless. Suddenly, you felt a painful ringing in your ears that Jean gave you as a warning. You promised her you wouldn't read these people's minds, but you can't help it, it's your natural instinct.

“How did you-“ “Don't worry about that” you cut him off, again, and quickly put a convincing smile. The next person who shake your hand was a blonde pretty girl, that looked really sweet. However, when you tried to read her mind, there was no thoughts about you, but about herself. She wasn't happy with herself, with her powers. You started feeling bad for her.

“Mystique” she smilled, even tho you knew it was fake. You wish you could help her, but this wasn't the best time and place to do that. Maybe another time. “Hey kid” a blue furry beast was approaching you and you startled by his deep voice and visage. “H-hey” you carefully grabbed his hand, which looked like a lego peace in his palm. “Hank McCoy” he had a white labotary cloak, which you inferred he was probably a scientist.

There were three other people in the room, Storm was radiating the sweetest energy. She was even worried about hurting you, when you were shaking her hand. One of the two men was a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair, who clearly informed you via telekinesis, that he could also read minds. His name was Charles Xavier, apparently he is the founder of all this. And the last but not least guy was looking pretty hot, like really fucking hot.

You felt goosebombs jumping all over your body when he walks towards you. His mischievous grin hits you right into your core, which started unexpectedly pulsating. “Hey kiddo” his deep voice tickled your ears and when you grab his enormous hand, your jaw dropped. Again, you read his mind without authorization. There was imagination of you, naked and being fucked by this man right in this room.

You flinched and released his grip. Your shocked face made that man scoff, before he leaned closer to your face. "Logan, nice to meet ya" he whispered before backing up onto his place, where he was originally standing. You were frozen, your mind was keep replaying that image of his, bended over a table that Charles was sitting behind.

You weren't even woken up by Jean's coughing, which was a clear indication that you should move. When that didn't happen, your sister decided to step in. “Alright! We should probably head away now...right sis?" Jean laugh and shake your body, when she grabbed your shoulder. You nodded, still speechless from Logan's thoughts.

"Bye! See ya later guys!" your sister led you out of the room and the moment the doors close, she tightly grabbed your arms and lower herself to your level. “Hey what's wrong with you?" you felt better now, so you finally answered her properly. "I'm fine" Jean was still firmly holding you, raising her eyebrow suspiciously. "You sure?" you nodded and gave her a fake smile, that convinced her.

Of course, she could read your mind and find out what's really going on in there, but both of you promised each other to not read each other's minds. You've honestly followed this rule since you were little, so why break it now?

“Okay, let me show you this place and then I'll help you unpack your things hm?” you nodded, not that you really have a choice, and walk beside her. However, the thought of Logan still hasn't left you. His soft hair shaped into ears of a beast, his sideburns that beautifully accentuated his face and his coffee coded eyes. God, his eyes were the second thing that stuck in your mind, after that deviant thought about you.

You were folding your clothes and putting them in the wardrobe right opposite your bed. Jean was helping you, using her mind to speed up the job. Few hours passed since you met Jean's colleagues and you still haven't stopped thinking about Logan. You didn't want to mention him in front of your sister, but your curiosity and desire got the better of you.

“So…um what exactly are Logan's powers?” There was pretty quiet silence, before Jean answered. “He has animal-keen senses, which includes healing factor and adamantium skeleton” you hummed and pursed your lips while nodding. Yoi were thinking for a second before asking again.

“So he's immortal?” “More or less... rather delayed aging, but we could easily kill him with our minds” Jean smilled while putting your shirt in the wardrobe. “Why'd you ask?” “Just curious…” surely you weren't just curious, but on the other hand you wanted to know what makes him so speacial to be on the same level as Jean. Seems like having a fury powers pays off.

“And how old is he?” your question caught your sister off guard and when the pieces fell into place, she dramatically gasp. “Do you have a crush on him?!” Fuck. Your eyes widened and you gave her a double look. “No! No I don't-“ “Look at me” Jean knows whenever you lie without using her powers, you always avoid eye contact and play with your fingers. Unfortunately, you did avoid eye contact and played with your fingers.

“I don't I just-“ “Look, I'll be honest with you, Logan is not a good guy,” you finally look into her eyes, when her voice changed into serious one. “He was hitting on me, even tho he knew damn well I was with Scott!” she threw her hands in the air, looking really frustrated while you just innocently stared at her and listen. “He's the type of guy that will use you, before he throws you away like a piece of trash” you incredulously raised your eyebrows. You tried your best to believe, that Jean was lying, but her face was dead serious.

“Really?” You squeal quietly with a disappointment in your soft voice. “Yes…” Jean sigh and came closer to you, when she notice how much that information hurt you. "I want the best for you sis and that's definitely not Logan" she grabbed your arms. "There are plenty of other handsome boys your age, who deserve you a hundred times more than he does" you nodded, even though you were refusing to trust her words. You didn't care about other boys, you cared about Logan.

"I understand, Logan's charm is irreplaceable" Jean acknowledged, making you smirk and nod in agreement. "But still…just don't fall for him 'kay?” you silently nodded, knowing that you already fell for him. You were aware that your sister was just trying to protect you and all that, because it's her responsinility, howerer, emotions cannot be controlled, neither can desire.

It was late at night, the moon was already glowing through the blinds of your room, which was lit just by a small night lamp. Your eyes were glued to small letters of your favorite book. You read word by word, line by line and paragraph by paragraph, until you turned the pages one by one. Time passed but your appetite for sleep was nowhere to be found.

You've no idea what time is it, but thanks to stars in the sky, which gave more light into your room, you deduced that it was pretty late. You naively thought that reading a book would make you tired, but that didn't happen. You didn't feel the slightest hint of tiredness as your mind was filled with thoughts of the man you were forbidden from your sister.

Every nerve in your body, every muscle wanted and still wants to feel Logan's hand like the first time, to hug him, to smell his scent, to feel him. You've probably never been so miserable like that for a man before. It's strange how much emotions can control you.

Since reading didn't help you fall asleep and you needed some sleep, there was only one possible way how to get tired. Coffee. For all the people you know, coffee gives them a boost of energy and wakes them up, but for you, it has the exact opposite effect. A good coffee with milk makes you tired, therefore you are always 100% sure that you'll fall asleep like a baby after it.

Since it was late at night, you didn't want to bother Jean to tell you the way to the common kitchen, so you quietly tiptoeed around the halls by yourself. It took you a while but your sense of direction did not fail you.

You peeked around the corner and besides a beautifully clean and cozy kitchen, you also saw Logan standing there with a beer bottle in his hand. At first, you thought you were just dreaming and already fell asleep, but it felt too real to be just a dream.

“Hey sweetheart” Logan greeted you when you caught his eye. "Hey" a quiet squeak left your lips, as were trying to find a capsule for coffee machine. “Lookin' for somethin'?” “Y-yeah a capsule…” Logan walked closer to you, leaving you breathless as the distance between you was almost immeasurable. He grinned, before his hand opens a cabin above you and handed you a capsule.

You weren't even able to say thank you when he stepped away from you. He insidiously left you full of anticipation just so he left you and don't do anything. You started to get to know his character, he likes to play with people and that's what makes him dangerous, but also so terribly charming.

You turned around and clicked the capsule into the coffee machine. You awkwardly waited for the coffee to be made, as the annoying noise echoed throughout the kitchen. You subtly glanced to the side and immediately dodged, when you noticed Logan watching you.

"Is there any reason you're getting a coffee at this hour?" he stepped forward, but leaving a fair space between. "I can't sleep" you chuckle as you realize how stupid it sounds. "And coffee helps?" you nodded and turned your head over to him. "No argument against taste" he takes a sip from his bottle, signing that his sleeping aid is beer.

You smiled before a soft exhale escaped your lips. You stared at each other and you couldn't help but read his mind. It was a view from third person. You and him in this kitchen just like now, except that you were sitting on the counter while Logan was hungrily kissing you and exploring your whole body with his hands. Your heartbeat raise and you almost melt at the image, when suddenly you went back to reality as a beeb sound from the coffee machine rang in your ears.

You subtly cleared your throat and poured coffee into the mug. But before you could turn around to get a milk from fridge, Logan overtook you. Without a blink of an eye, he was behind you and holding a cartoon milk box. "Need this?" he was standing so incredibly close, his breath was brushing your cold ears. You inhale shakily and nodded.

"Tell me when to stop" he whispered, pouring the milk into the mug already half filled with coffee. You started feeling your core pulsating, but as if that wasn't enough, his free hand touched your weist. You gasp, breath caught in your throat as his grip on your hip tightens. "Tell me when to stop" he repeated himself, his lips now touching your ear, the milk still pouring and his hand on your body slowly moved downwards.

You realize that his sentence had two meanings and wasn't just about milk. When the milk almost overflowed from the mug, he put it on the counter and finally had the opportunity to give you all his attention. Both of his hands were on you, one was going down, second up. You knew this was wrong, that you should've already stop him, but you couldn't. You wanted this, you needed this, you longed for this.

You could sense from his touch that he's being really careful and gentle, which is hardly against his nature. But he would do the sacrifice for you. One of his hand was already up your neck, hugged it lightly, so that he had you under control, while the other was getting dangerously close to your private part. Your eyes were keeping flickering, trying so hard to keep your vision clear but Logan's fingertips were leaving you breathless.

"Do you want it?" he groans, his low voice makes your pulsating faster. You nodded harshly, wanted to say something but all you could manage to do was just a quiet tiny moan. That was enough for Logan. His hand slides under your pajama shorts. He chuckle and moved his head even closer to yours, when he realized you're not wearing any panties. “Coincidence?”

Like everyone, you don't wear any underwear underneath your pajamas, because it's way more comfortable. However, you certainly didn't plan on deliberately not wearing panties, if something like this happened. However, Logan believed the version in his head, that you predicted the future and decided to not wear panties on purpose. Either way, the conclusion is the same, Logan has better access to your core.

You close your eyes and exhale softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. "So wet, just because of me?" his rhetorical questions was turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. You bite your lips when he puts more pressure into his movements, trying not to look like a needy slut, even tho you were.

Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Logan and his fingers on your pussy. You could feel his growing dick trapped in his pants, poking your ass. Your instincts made you move your hips towards his fingers, rhythmically and without realizing provoking his dick. His breath started being cut off more frequently, you tortured him. You desperately wished you could read his mind right now, but you were too overhelmed to do so.

You lost yourself when he slowly insert his finger inside, finally making you whimper and throwing your head back, so you were leaning againts Logan's shoulder. “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. His hips lightly rubbed against your ass, trying to feel some friction too.

You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Logan's handy finger was curling inside you, reaching that good spot you could never reach yourself. Wet juicy sound wafted through the kitchen and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is.

“Good girl” he complimented you as he subtly slipped a second finger in. Stretching your walls while holding your neck tightly, showing who's in control, even though it was clear from the beginning. You were enjoying it so much, you had never felt such pleasure before. You move on your tiptoes as you felt the heat, spreading from your crotch to your whole body.

Logan's curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. "Come on baby" he supported you giving you a last straw. You left a load moan and cum on Logans fingers, before you relaxed and came back from your high. Your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath. Logan laughed and pulled his fingers out of you which he tasted and grunted. He didn't need to say anything to prove how delicious you are.

He released your neck and leaned his elbow on the counter, watching your red face. "You've never been touched before, have you?" he smirk, but before you could answer you heard a familiar coughing. You turn around and saw Jean, leaning against the doorframe. "What're you two doing here?" her arms were crossed and eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea how long she's been standing there, but you hoped not too long.

"Just talkin'" Logan saved your ass and wanted to leave the kitchen, but Jean grabbed his wrist and looked him deadly in his eyes. "Let me talk to you for a sec" she dragged him into the corridor without leaving him a choice. Jean pathetically thought she tricked you into not hearing their conversation, but she still doesn't realize how strong your telepathic powers are.

*Stay away from her* your sister angrily whispered to Logan, making you feel embarrassed, like you couldn't stand for yourself alone. *If you hurt her, I'll kill you* *Jesus calm down woman! Why should I hurt her?* You were deciding whether to leave or stay, but the second option seems better. You sip from your coffee as you were listening to Jean's confrontation. You couldn't help but think back to Logan's hand placement and even though it was just a few minutes ago, you missed it.

*If I ever see you with her again I-* *Don't worry, you won't, trust me* after that, you heard footsteps walking away. You quickly straightened up and peeked who walked first. When Logan made a quick eye contact with you, you got anxious. What if Jean really intimidated Logan and he meant all his words? But all these negative thoughts fell aside when he winked at you, before leaving your sight. You smiled and giggle under your nose, as you took another sip from your coffee.

"Fuck me sis" Jean breathed out, feeling exhausted like she just ran a marathon, even that it was just a stupid argument with Logan. You raised your eyebrows, your smile not leaving your face. "Somethin' wron-" "Are you serious?" you provoked Jean by pissing her off even more than she already was. "I told you to stay away from him" "Hmm no, you said not to fall for him and that he's a bad guy" you corrected her, keep smiling. She gave you a real nasty look that you've seen just couple of times. Now you knew you are fucked.

"Fine, I'm saying it now. Stay away from him, okay?" you wanted to pull up the fact that you are an adult so that she has nothing to command you, but you didn't want to piss her off even more. She already looked quite tired and it must've been pretty late. That's why you decided to be a good girl and submissively agree to her order. "Great...now go to sleep" satisfied with your answer, she exhaled and gave you another order to fulfill.

"Night sis" you walked past her, devilishly smiling while holding your cup of coffee with both hands. You knew that Jean was losing her temper with you, but you enjoyed it. On the way to your room, you could already feel the fatigue falling on you. But you still thought that if you didn't go get coffee, Logan's fingering would be plenty enough for a sweet sleep.

The next day went smoothly. You started smilling more, stopped being grumpy and helped with cleaning the school. All that happily surprised your sister, but she didn't complain at all. Your work was helpful. You mopped the floors, swept the dust and sorted the textbooks in a library. However, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't do these chores at all. Logan was your only and sufficient motivation.

Since the moment you woke up, you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his husky breath tickling your ear, his hand tightly holding your neck, his soft fingers curling inside you, poking your walls until you came. You couldn't stop thinking about him. Your highest record of the day was one minute, when there was uncleanable dirt on the floor and you had to go on all fours and scrub it with great force.

Your heartbeat raises whenever you met Logan in the hall, who gave you a slight smile and wink, creating a waterfall between your legs. The enthusiasm was so strong that you really volunteered to clean everything you could, even with joy. Logan brainwashed you so much without hypnotizing you in any way, he's really dangerous.

The whole day went by pretty quickly and before you blinked twice, it was dark outside again and the moonlight glittered nicely in the reflection of the flying dust. In addition to the high praise and involuntary hug from Jean, you also received recognition from Charles, which is said to be rare or something. Of course you appreciated that, but you didn't do it just for some praise. Your main intention was to meet Logan whenever and wherever you could. You were quite limited, since that order from Jean yesterday, but you always managed to throw a flirtatious smile at each other.

Just as yesterday, you were laying in your bed, reading your favorite book, which you've already read like five times. Even so, you get goosebombs all over your body, whenever you're done reading it. But today was a little different. You were already quite tired. After all, you were like a maid all day and you deserve a long rest, but your body needed something else. You need to feel Logan, at least see him, somehow interact with him. It felt like he was a part of you, of your body and without him, you wouldn't survive a day.

It was pretty late, when you checked the clock it shows an hour after midnight. All the students, including the teachers, are definitely asleep, except for you. Your sexual scenarios about Logan in your head couldn't leave you and your desire grows every second you think about him. If you could, you would have searched his room already, but the fear of Jean catching you again was bigger and kept nudging you in the back of your mind. What if she caught you durring the act? She would definitely send you back home and you can't risk that.

That's why you sigh with disappointment and decided to turn off the lamp and go to sleep, when suddenly your heard a soft knock on the door. You froze, deciding whether to go open the door or just shout from your bed. The first choice seems calmer and quieter. "Hey" you froze when you saw Logan standing in front of you. For a moment there you though his hidden power is mind reading too.

“H-hey” nervously with incomprehension in your voice you widened your eyes, that were filled with expectation. "I hope I didn't wake you up" he gave you puppy eyes that made your heart melt. Yesterday you didn't even have time to take a good look at his majestic face, which you saw properly when you met him for the first time.

"N-no I couldn't sleep anyway" you cough akwardly, your face still surprised from that shock. "Okay and um sorry to bother it's just…I ran out of toothpaste and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?" he shows you his toothbrush and empty toothpaste, looking at you through his thick eyebrows. You look down at the toothbrush, then back up into his chocolate coffee eyes, where you got lost for a moment.

“Yeah, sure come on in” you stepped aside and opened the door wider, leaving space for Logan to walk in. “Thanks, you're a life saver” you chuckle and close the door behind him. Adrenaline was starting to run through your blood at the thought of being alone with Logan in your room this late at night. If Logan could finger you in the kitchen last night, what can he do in your room now?

"Bathroom is?" "Oh right there" you pointed at the door right next to the massive wardrobe. He nodded and smiled, before disappearing in that room. You sat down on your bed, right in front of the bathroom door, staring at them, your mind filled with millions of scenarios about Logan. Was that a sign that he appeared in your room just now? Or did he do it on purpose? Or was that a fate? Those, maybe pathetic questions, filled your head together with the imaginations and your mind was a total mess by now.

You were so busy with your thoughts that you didn't realize how fast time was flying and suddenly, Logan emerged from the bathroom. You quickly shake your head and smiled at him. “Thank you” he smiled back and walk slowly towards you. Your smile fade away and your face turned into craving one. "But there's something else I need" he licked his lips, his eyes flicked from your bottom to your eyes. You knew what he was implying and you shivered with anticipation. "W-what is it?" you harshly asked, your heart beating really fast, in a moment you though it would even burst out of your chest.

“You know damn well princess” he put a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "Read my mind" he commanded and didn't need to tell you twice to do that. You saw an image of you and Logan, in the exact same place as you are right one, just with one difference. You were sucking his dick. Your eyes widened when you went back to reality, looking deep into Logans eyes, which were black, full of lust.

"Can you do that for me darlin'?" he rubbed your cheek as you were leaning into his touch. The warm from his palm spread all over your face. A flame of fire began to form between your legs, making your core pulsating and clenching around nothing. When you pit yourself together, you nodded and grab the waistband od Logan's pants. He watched your every move, his erection already twitching with impatience.

"That's right..." he whispered, caressing your cheek and hissed, as his pants fell on the floor and the cool air touched his dick. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him in his full beauty. You've never seen this in real life, moreover, so close and so huge. The thought of him being inside your mouth or inside you excited you, but also scared you at the same time. You licked your lips as your mouth filled with saliva.

"Come on, open your mouth" Logan slides his massive hand into your hair, scratching and massaging your head. You swallowed loudly before opening your mouth and approached his tip. “Grab it” he quickly ordered before your lips even touched him. Your eyes met his, as you wrap your hand around his base, making him breathe out loudly. "That's it, now your mouth" he gently, with a little bit of strength, pushed your head closer to his penis, till his pink tip was fully covered with your wet lips.

He kept pushing you forward, hissing. "Yeah baby...that's it" you were already halfway through, his tip touching your throat already. "Now your hand" you instantly understood his short sentences. You slowly began to stroke him off, but your mouth was stiff. Logan helped you, pushing your head back and forth. Your eyes were glued on his, as you were watching him licking his lips and quietly whimpering. “Mhm good girl”

Your eyes started filling with tears as the pace of your sucking and the strength of your hand quickened. Logan was slowly losing his senses as he tried really hard to reach his climax. His hips thrusting inside your mouth, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. Your innocent face from tears, while you had his dick in your mouth, was driving him crazy.

"Yes...yes" he clenched his teeth, the wolf look on his face makes your panties soaked. "Ohh yeah" he threw his head back, your hot mouth felt like the best pussy he ever had. He couldn't last long, few more moves of your head makes him curl his toes and dropped his jaw. "Fuck!" that was his final moan, before he emptied his balls inside you, pushing your head so far, that your nose bumped into his lower stomach.

His heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. He gave you a soft grin, gently wiping your tears from your blushed face. "You're so beautiful" Logan grunted, making you chuckle as you lick the remains of his cum from your lips. "But I'm not done with you" he got on his knees and gave you a lustful smirk. Before you could manage to recover from previous activity, Logan held your thighs tightly, spreading them far enough to make your pussy peek through the soft fabric of your pajama shorts.

“God..." he huffed as he saw your wetness already leaking on the sheets. "You are the muse of all my wet dreams" he groans as his face was dangerously fast approaching your core. "From the moment I saw you," his hands slides under your shorts. "I wondered how you taste" without a second thought, he tore off your shorts and tossed them aside. You gasped, adrenaline racing through your body.

Logan gave you one last devilish grin, before burying his face into your pussy. You immediately throw your head back and grab his silky hair, as you bit your lips tightly. His tongue was briskly without mercy moving around your labia, sometimes gently slipped in, but he always doubted only on the surface. You tried your best to keep your moans and whimpers in quiet, but it was impossible.

"Logan" you rolled your eyes as his nose poked your sensitive clitoris, pushing you further to the edge. Your hands tugging his kitty hair, whenever he find that good spot. However, this was all just a foreplay, as the real fun began when he finally slid his tongue inside you.

Your jaw fell open and you put your head back in place as you watched Logan's face. His sideburns brushing and tickling your skin, leaving red marks. His eyes met yours, they were so dark that you could see your reflection in them. You loose it all when he smiled at you, his teeth brushing against your core. He held firmly your thighs, as your natural instinct made you move your hips to the rhythm of Logan's tongue.

His groans send pleasurable waves into your lower stomach, sending you even closer to your orgasm. His clever tongue was stretching your walls, tasting your juice and sucking your skin as much as he could. He sense that you were close, not only because of your uncontrollable moaning of his name and not only because his animal instincts sensed it, but mainly because of your clenching around his wet hot tongue.

You tried to ride on his face, to finally reach what you desired all day and what you deserve, but Logan was too malicious to indulge it to you that easily. He removed his tongue from you just a second before you'd finally release. You let out a disappointed breath, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you look at Logan.

"Not so easy princess" he climb on top of you, making you fall on the bed submissively. "I wanna feel you" he kissed you hungrily, not wasting any time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself. You immediately started cooperating, not only with your mouth but also with your hands, which you wrap around Logan's neck.

His hands were traveling through your whole body, trying to memorize every inch of you just by a touch. Soft moans left your mouth matching with Logan's impatient growls. You were relaxed until you felt something poking in your inner thigh.

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, when you came back to your senses. You stopped kissing him and pushed him away a little. "What?" he whispered, his eyes full of lust but his eyebrows were furrowed, confused. You hesitate for a moment, whether to tell him or not, but every time you felt his tip against your private area, you heart skipped a beat and the stress level were rising incredibly fast.

"I am um...virgin" a really quiet, almost silent whisper left your lips and your cheeks started turning red. The embarrassment and shyness raced through your blood, as you waited for Logan's reaction. He chuckled, showing his bright white teeth. "I know" you gave him a confused expression. Your mind started wondering who told him that and started suspecting Jean. "I don't need to read minds to figure that out"

Before you could recover from Logan's words, his lips were on yours again. You were relieved that he took the information in stride and you weren't so nervous anymore. It wasn't long before his hands were under your t-shirt which was gone in the blink of an eye. Likewise, Logan's shirt also ended up somewhere on the floor and your naked bodies were firmly attached to each other.

Your heart was beating, your veins were pulsing and your core was already clenching around nothing, yet. After a long make out session, Logan pulled away from you a little. His eyes looked into yours and he could feel your fear and excitement at the same time.

"I'll take care of you" his palm cupped your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. You close your eyes and nodded, trying to calm your breath down. He really gave you the sense of security that you needed the most at the moment. Logan gently kissed you, before you felt his wet tip inserting between your labia.

You squeak between the kisses, the pain started increasing as Logan pushed deeper and deeper. "It's alright it's alright" he whispered, his lips still glued to yours as his hips moved forwards. Your face tensed while trying to ignore the pain. It felt like his dick is endless and he kept pushing, leaving no room for anything else inside you. Before long, he was fully inside you. Logan waited, the kissing sound filling the silent room and your walls got expanded.

It only took a few more passionate kisses and eager touches, before you got the urge for some friction and started really slowly moving your hips. Logan smiled devilishly as his lips were still firmly fixed on yours, a low chuckle left his throat. "Oh someone is eager?" he started moving his hips too, matching your motions. At first he moved slowly and carefully, his intention wasn't to hurt you but to please you.

His pace was smooth and gentle, whenever his balls touched your ass, you whimper as much as your vocals let you. Logan tried to keep kissing you, but when his thrusting started to pick up the pace, he couldn't focus on your lips anymore.

You lost all your senses the moment Logan's tip reached your cervix and started poking into it. His eagerness to reach his orgasm took over him so much, that he lost control of his hips. He was thrusting into you as fast and hard as he could, your moans getting louder and caressing Logan's eardrums. Your room was filled with nothing but synchronized sighs, wet clapping sounds and bed creaking.

“Jesus….fuck” it was clear from Logan's choppy moans that he was on the edge. His tip was twitching inside you, every vain was about to burst and drops of sweat from his forehead fell on your naked body. He looked like a wild animal and that only added to the atmosphere. You started feeling the heat in your lower abdomen and the need to pee was increasing. Your nails dug deep into Logan's back, while he was clenching his predatory teeth.

"C'mon darlin'" he caressed your cheek a few times, wiping your tears away. He knew you were close thanks to your clenching core that sends him even faster to his orgasm. One, two and on the third hard thrust, you tensed your whole body before you completely relaxed and cum on his cock. You arched your back and moaned loudly, tears falling from your eyes. Logan was still going, desperately trying to reach his orgasm too. Your face makes it easier to finally inject everything into you and before you recovered, he pulled out and cum on your stomach.

White sticky liquid was covering your stomach, while both of you tried to catch your breath. Logan collapsed next to you, closing his eyes and gaining some energy, before he hugged you and pulled you closer to him. You automatically cooperate and laid your head on his muscular shoulder. You were quiet, your nostrils were massive as you were still trying to catch up the oxygen that you lost during the previous act.

You looked up at him, admiring his red sweaty face, which still looked majestic. It didn't take long, until Logan locked his eyes with yours and smiled, as he rubbed your arm. "What're you thinking about hm?" without realizing, your smile fades into a neutral expression. You sigh sadly and break eye contact. "I'm thinking about Jean's words..." it was quiet briefly. "What words?" you were thinking, whether to tell him the truth or not. "She told me that you just going to use me and then throw me away like a piece of garbage..." you decided to tell him the truth, even if it might affect him.

"Really? Is that what she said?" he chuckled mockingly, making you look at him again. But your disappointed and thoughtful face didn't change. Logan sensed your worry and sighs. "Read my mind" he said with a low rough voice, waiting for you to do so.

You saw yourself and Logan, sitting at a checkered blanket in the middle of the park while Logan fed you with strawberries. You giggle, but it wasn't the only vision that warmed your heart. Suddenly you were at the cinema, holding hands and while you were paying attention to the movie, Logan was mainly watching you. The next vision was in the kitchen, you baking cookies together. You also couldn't notice the small detail, that you were wearing his sweatshirt. These were enough reasons to make you blush and conjure up smile from ear to ear.

"I don't want to use you and I definitely don't want to throw you away like a piece of trash..." he pulled you even closer. "I'm serious bub" Your teeth started showing, as you couldn't stop blushing. "I really like you like a lot and uh…” you cut his speech by kissing him. It was cute but a soothing slow kiss that reassured you both, that you meant it. When you pulled out, Logan tiredly grinned and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You just watched each other for a while, enjoying each other's presence while you were still naked and your stomach still dirty with Logan's cum. "You tried it on Jean even though she was in relationship?" you asked suspiciously. Logan chuckled and shook his head. "Yes but not anymore" "Uh huh" you jokingly agreed, making Logan furrow his eyebrows. “You don't bealive me?" "I do" you agreed provocatively.

Logan devilishly smirked and attacked you, making you laugh and giggle. After a short tickling and prodding, Logan finally stopped. "Let's get you clean up bub" he said after he noticed his semen still laying on your naked body. He picked you up like a princess and carried you to the bathroom, where you both showered with a few passionate kisses and ended up clean and fragrant under the covers.

You fell asleep in his arms, being the happiest person in the whole world at that moment.

You woke up thanks to the rays of the sun that annoyingly shines directly into your eyes. You inhale before looking up, smiling as you saw Logan's sleepy face. His hair was tousled and he smelled like home. You wanted nothing more.

However, this beautiful early morning moment was interrupted by footsteps approaching your door. You knew right away that it was Jean and before you could wake Logan, she quietly opened the door. "Good mornin'!" she whispered and smiled. You nervously smiled back, unfortunately broking your promise. You controlled her mind so that she wouldn't see Logan sleeping right next to you, naked.

It must've worked because she was still looking at you with a massive smile on her face. "I won't bother you anymore…just get ready for breakfast, then you'll go help me with books!" You grunted in annoyance before Jean finally closed the door, leaving you two finally alone.

You dropped your head and sigh. "You cunning woman" you heard a dark raspy voice next to your ear, before Logan showered you with millions of meringue kisses on your cheek. You playfully giggle, trying to push Logan away, but it was useless.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked after he finally let your face go. You nodded, giving him a questioning look that asked him the same. "Well, since I slept next to the most amazing girl in the world...I slept great" he gave you another passionate kiss, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You don't know how to say it or explain it to Jean yet, but the only thing you know 100% is that Logan fucks really good.

[deprivedreality]

𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼!! 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

Word Count: i don't know

Content: katsuki bakugo with glasses isn't an office siren, he's more of an attractive dwight schrute imo. gender neutral reader. drabble. fluff. i just saw these pictures on pinterest and I watched myself cook.

Katsuki Bakugo rubbed his temples as he squinted at the whiteboard in the training room. The writing blurred together, a hazy mess that made his already limited patience dwindle faster than usual. His vision had been weird ever since that run-in with a villain wielding a blinding quirk during his internship with Best Jeanist. The doctor had said his sight would recover in a few weeks, but the lingering effects were starting to piss him off real bad.

“Bakugo, you okay?”

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. You were sitting beside him, your head tilted slightly as you observed his uncharacteristic struggle.

He's been rubbing and rubbing his eyes that you're worried they'd pop off any moment now. Damn, he can't even focus on his notes of fucking course cause he can't read it with the stupid combination of fucking astigmatism, myopia and glaucoma.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, averting his gaze.

You weren’t convinced and, of course, you were concerned. “Doesn’t look like it. You’ve been squinting at everything for the past few days. Maybe you should get your eyes checked again.”

“Tch, I don’t need a damn checkup,” he snapped, but his annoyance lacked its usual bite. You frowned.

“Come on,” you said, standing and grabbing his arm. “What’s the harm in getting it checked? If there’s nothing wrong, great. If there is, we’ll figure it out.”

He sighed, realizing you wouldn’t let this go. “Fine. But if this is a waste of time, I’m blaming you.”

It's a good thing you two were still in school grounds, it means Recovery Girl is no more than a few halls away from where you and bakugo were studying at.

The clinic was quiet when you arrived, and Recovery Girl was quick to examine Bakugo’s eyes. After a series of tests, the diagnosis was clear: his vision was still recovering, but for the time being, he needed glasses to help him see more clearly.

Bakugo’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Glasses? Seriously?”

“It’s just temporary,” Recovery Girl assured him. She then walked towards a closet in the far back and whipped out what seemed to be nerd glasses. “Here, try these.”

The doctor handed Bakugo a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He put them on reluctantly, and you had to stifle a laugh when you saw the way his eyes looked magnified through the lenses.

“What’s so damn funny?” he snapped, narrowing his newly enlarged eyes at you.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but—oh my god, Katsuki! You look like a cartoon character!”

He scowled, but there was a faint pink tint to his cheeks. Despite his irritation, there was something oddly satisfying about seeing you laugh like that.

"I'd put a bow on that glasses if you'd let me! All you need now are beaver teeth and you'll be a certified goof ball!" You laughed, basically breathless. Even Recovery Girl couldn't help but stiffle a laugh.

“Shut the hell up,” he muttered, taking the prescription and storming out, but not before glancing back to catch you still grinning.

The next day, Bakugo walked into class wearing his new glasses. The room went silent for about three seconds before the laughter began. Even Todoroki and Tokoyami couldn't help their grin, their lips twitched in amusement.

“Bakugo!” Kaminari wheezed, clutching his sides. “You look like a scientist!”

"Whoah! Bakubro! I feel like I'm in a 3D movie with those lenses!" Kirishima added, laughing even harder than Kaminari.

"Heavens, Bakugo, Is that magnifying glass? Or are you just that eager to start class?" Even Iida couldn't help himself and added to the chaos. Bakugo was starting to erupt.

“I bet he can spot a typo on a billboard from a mile away with those,” Mina chimed in, tears of laughter streaming down her face.

"I bet he's craving bananas!" Mineta boomed. Unlucky for him, he was within Bakugo's range and got his ahh exploded.

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugo roared, his hands sparking ominously.

But his outburst only made them laugh harder.

You, sitting at your desk, couldn’t stop giggling either. You already had the laugh of your life when you saw him wear it for the first time, now you had the chance to actually examine him with glasses. “I think he looks cute,” you said loud enough for him to hear, still smiling.

Bakugo froze but his hands were still in the middle of choking Kaminari and Mineta, his glare snapping to you. “What? You didn't think it was yesterday,”

“It is cute though. Now that I stare at you more," you repeated, a teasing lilt in your voice. “The glasses suit you.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off by your words. The classroom fell silent, everyone holding their breath to see how he’d react.

“Hypocrite,” he muttered, finally settling, sitting down and turning his attention to his notes. But you didn’t miss the way his ears turned red, or the way he didn’t try to blast anyone after that.

I think he looks cute! The glasses suits you... now that I stare at you more. I think he looks cute! It's cute though. I think he looks cute! Chanted at the back of his mind over and over. SHUT UP!

The next day, Bakugo showed up to class without his glasses. The change was immediate—everyone noticed, but no one dared comment on it. His glare alone was enough to keep them quiet.

During lunch, you slid into the seat next to him. “Eee? No glasses today?”

“Wearing contacts,” he replied curtly, poking at his food.

“Why? The glasses were cute,” you said, resting your chin in your hand as your gaze sauntered off.

He gave you a side-eye glance, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly when you weren't looking at him. “Yeah, well, I’m not here to entertain you idiots.”

You pouted dramatically. “I liked the glasses. I thought for sure you'd wear them until you get better. I never thought you'd like contacts. Are you ever gonna wear them again?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not good enough, Bakugo.”

“Tch,” he muttered, pushing his tray aside. “I’ll wear ’em during our study sessions, alright? Happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his casual mention of your study time together. But you smiles nevertheless. “Oh. Yeah, that works! Lemme decorate it!”

“The damn glasses are not mine, idiot. But whatever,” He stood abruptly, leaving you alone at the table, your cheeks warm and your heart racing.

True to his word, Bakugo showed up to your next study session wearing his glasses. You couldn’t help but smile as he sat down across from you, his usual scowl softened by the frames perched on his nose.

“You know,” you said, flipping through your notes, “I think I like you better with glasses. You looked extra goofy cute.”

He snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. I’m ditching these things the second my eyes are back to normal.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the fondness in your smile. “Whatever you say, Bakugo.”

For the rest of the session, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, broken only by your occasional teasing and his gruff responses. At one point, you scribbled a tiny pink bow to which you cut out and Bakugo actually agreed with your request to put it temporarily on it. And though he’d never admit it out loud, Katsuki Bakugo didn’t mind the glasses so much when it meant he got to see you smile like that.

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2024 | all rights reserved.

[sunnyknight-original]

Dear My Dear -

an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow

At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…

*now what?

Its lore time. omg theres so much-

The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.

THE BIGGER PICTURE

This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.

I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.

Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.

ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.

(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)

my dear wingdings,)

Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.

you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)

Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-

Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!

(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)

i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)

the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans

The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.

Or if Wingdings just became him.

A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.

i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)

2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.

The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things

but i cannot live like that.)

Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.

Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!

and it seems you cannot live any other way.)

another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.

I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”

when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)

When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.

As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.

But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!

He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**

Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.

Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”

i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.

Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.

The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.

Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.

theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)

Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying

“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego

I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.

Thats the good man within him

you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)

the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.

The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.

Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later

Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-

Its not that deep…but still-

i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)

CALL BACK!!!!!!

Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.

As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.

i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)

GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!

Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.

cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out

EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…

and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.

- your brother

As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!

Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.

Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.

the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.

FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!

weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day

also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.

un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-

well I mean that-….. hm…

does that…? hmm, well….

[pomefioredove]

Can I make a request for Floyd x reader yuu, where Floyd tries to confess to the reader in every way, even using mer courting methods, but they don't realize that, not that I'm not in love with him, it's just that the reader isn't good at understanding romantic advances? Just a fluffy request :)

this is such a cute prompt!! I got the worst writer's block when I started it, hopefully you're still here anon

summary: floyd confessing to an oblivious reader type of post: headcanons characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu author's note: this totally got me to rewatch the little mermaid, I also tried studying eel mating patterns and apparently scientists don't know how eels mate???

the change is... noticeable, to say the least

Floyd has been humming lately, skipping through the dorm, picking flowers and leaving them around the lounge

Jade finds it amusing, Azul is a little annoyed

after all, he's supposed to be working, not sprinkling little pink flowers all over Azul's desk

it becomes painfully obvious to everyone that Floyd has a thing for you

...everyone except you, that is

you suppose the company is nice

you've even gotten used to the way he hovers around you, watching everything you do as if it's the most interesting thing in the world

maybe you've even grown fond of it

after all, there's never a dull moment with Floyd around. he's as interesting and unpredictable as they come

so, you don't even bat an eye when he starts leaving little trinkets around for you

a fork here, a pair of glasses there, a few gadgets and gizmos...

you can't seem to figure out why, so you just call it Floyd being Floyd and don't read too much into it

one day, you get flowers

...although, when you ask Azul, he just grumbles something about Floyd leaving flowers all over the lounge

you're also not sure why everyone keeps giving the two of you odd looks when you're out together

or why Floyd is suddenly so insistent on being near you all the time

you catch him following you more than once

and he'll take any excuse to put his arm around you

your thought process is mostly sure, why not? whilst everyone else is already rolling their eyes at the PDA

if you ever get the hint, you might ask Azul and Jade if they think Floyd is into you

"Into you???" Azul says. "We thought you were already dating!"

[wasiandude]

The fraternity party.

It was Saturday morning and as Timothy knew, today was a day full of alcohol and sex at the fraternity and like every Saturday, he couldn't study with the music so loud.

Timothy stood up from his bed, rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses, the boy was cute, with just his cute brunette hair combed halfway down, his cute glasses and his baby face and with only 1"60 height, They made Timothy one of the cutest guys in college even though everyone knew he was gay and a nerd.

"Good morning, I guess" Timothy commented as he got out of bed and went to the closet to put on something comfortable, it was Saturday, it was sunny and he was just going to be studying all day, So he just put on a white t-shirt, jeans and sandals.

Once he got ready, he sat on his bed with some books, pencils, notebooks and started studying, it had to be like this because he had a scholarship and he couldn't waste this moment, His dream was to be a scientist so he had to study a lot, it didn't affect him, he loved studying.

"I will have a future, not like that idiot Jack and his "brothers" " Timothy commented while letting out a chuckle.

While someone was laughing, or rather something, interrupted the moment, Timothy continued with his thing while saying a "come in" The moment they opened the door, to their dismay it was Jack, He was shirtless, wearing short shorts showing off his amazing hairy legs and a pair of sandals showing off his large, masculine feet.

Even though Timothy hated Jack, he actually had a crush on him but it was obvious that he would never tell him, because if that happened he knew his life would change completely.

"Hey! Lil' bro, I came to invite you to our frat party and well, I also wanted to know if we could be friends, you know? I had an argument with that idiot Luke"

Timothy looked at him and raised an eyebrow, Jack wasn't the typical idiot jock who made fun of him for being gay or nerdy, but he found it quite strange that he came to invite him to the party and even more so, Also ask him to be his friend.

"Uhm, Jack, you know that I don't like those parties and also, why would you ask me to be your friend? I mean, there are quite a few differences between us." Timothy commented in a calm and light tone as he continued reading a book.

"Uh, uh, I know that bro, but I don't know, I'm feeling nice today you know? Plus, you'd be a good replacement for Luke, I mean, two of both weren't the same in body or sexual orientation, but you guys are pretty cute and funny, so what do you say, lil' bro? Jack commented with a smile on his face.

"Sorry Jack, but I can't go to your party. Be your friend, yes, but go to your party, no. I have homework to do and a lot more chores, but seriously, have fun!"

"C'mon, bro! Don't be a party pooper, I see you studying every day, you should go out and party for a while to brighten up your life! It'll only be for a little while and then I'll leave you and you can come back to study, okay?"

Timothy turned to look at him and a smile appeared on his face.

"Okay, okay, you win, you're right, I should have some fun, but then I go back to my room to study, okay?

"yeah!" Jack commented as he watched Timothy get up from the bed and walk over to him to stand by his side, their height difference was different.

Once Timothy stood next to Jack, Jack put an arm around him as the two walked towards the frat house, once they arrived Timothy was quite surprised, There were shirtless men everywhere, women flirting with these same men, and quite a bit of alcohol.

Jack's brothers turned to see him and greeted him, Jack grabbed Timothy and they went to where they were, Timothy greeted them and they did too.

"Wow, wow, what do we have here?" one of Jack's bro's commented.

"Well, he'll be our new bro, since that idiot Luke didn't appreciate us and speaking of that"

Jack looked at Timothy.

"This is a frat party, it's hot, it's summer, Luke left some clothes at our frat, go to his room and wear what you like, okay? Back room and turn to the right."

Hearing this, Timothy nodded as he walked into the fraternity house, he wasn't surprised at all, there were clothes lying around, they were dirty, they had a weird smell, just like he imagined, Once he got to Luke's room and opened it, there were still some posters of half-naked women, workout gear, and some stuff lying around.

Jack went to his closet and looked for something clean and that would fit the heat and then he found some brown shorts with palm trees printed on them.

"These are pretty cute, hehe, I can't believe I'm going to wear frat boy clothes! So horny... I hope they fit me well."

Once Timothy told himself that, he took off his jeans and threw them on the floor while he put on Luke's shorts, once he put them on he had to go look at himself in the mirror And luckily for he, there was a full-body one in Luke's room, so he went and looked at himself, it looked pretty cute.

And then before he could get back to Jack, he started to feel weird and hot, the idea of wearing a muscled frat boy's clothes excited him but he didn't realize how much.

The heat that his body felt was too much, so he took off his shirt and let it fall on the floor, while the heat rose even more.

"What the fuck is going on!?" Timothy said while covering his mouth, he had never said a rude thing in his life, so he was in shock.

But before he could continue wondering, he saw with his own eyes how his feet began to become larger and more masculine, His fingers lengthened as a manly scent came from them.

At this point Timothy was so in shock with everything, that he froze, instead of running or calling for help, he stood in front of the mirror with a scared face.

He watched as his thin legs began to increase in size, while becoming stronger, more of an athlete, Muscles began to emerge from these same ones while their skin changed to a more mature one, Now he had two trunks as legs.

He watched as his stomach began to move on its own, burning all the fat he had so that a six pack of abs would appear, They looked very worked out, as if they were in the gym all day, Timothy knew this was all wrong, but he couldn't move.

The next thing to change were his arms, which were once thin but began to swell with pure muscle while his biceps reached the size of soccer balls, some veins stood out on his arms, his hands also changed, his fingers lengthened while now having a more masculine and mature appearance.

His thin chest began to burn as his pectorals began to bulge reaching a great size, they became large and sensitive, His torso expanded along with his shoulders to give him a more jock look.

His face began to creak as he began to change, his Adam's apple becoming even more prominent, All the baby fat he had began to oxidize to give way to a more defined jawline while a small shadow of hair appeared on this same jawline, His lips became fuller, his nose became prettier, his cheekbones became more prominent, but despite all that, he still had a rather cute and baby-like face.

He also increased in height, going from 1'60 to a powerful 1'80 making him the tallest in the fraternity.

His eyes also changed, his haircut also began to change to a more relaxing and masculine look and also somewhat jock, His hair that was brown began to change, The black began to take place to completely disappear into the brown, his hair that was also straight began to change to curly, curls fell on his face.

Timothy began to feel pressure on his cock, it was at that moment that he saw how his cock began to grow bigger under his shorts, Curious to know, he pulled down his pants and his new designer boxers and watched as his penis went from 5 centimeters to about 15 centimeters, His cock was now thick and big, even more so because it was erect, then he began to feel the need to jerk off.

"I have a nice body... Nice face and a nice new cock, why not?" Timothy commented as he began to jerk off his new cock.

As he did this, new memories began to flood his mind, memories of how he joined the fraternity, how he became friends with Jack, how he loved women and their t*ts... No, he was gay... Right?

He also remembered how this morning before the frat party he had gotten into a fight with Jack, Timothy reached orgasm and his "sweet milk" began to spread all over the floor of the room.

"Damn... Just imagining how many girls I'll pick up today and also how I'm going to feed them with my seed makes me pretty horny." Luke comment with his voice, which certainly sounded masculine and very mature.

"Right! There's a party outside, Jack and my other brothers must be waiting for me."

Luke commented and then put his cock in his shorts, left his room and arrived with his brothers.

"Wow, looks like someone isn't mad at me anymore, right Luke?" Jack commented while patting his chest.

they talked for a while and then he asked his brothers to take a photo to upload it for his Instagram.

He knew he was hot and he didn't want to waste any time showing off his great achievements.

[deadsetobsessions]

I would love to read more of your desecrated Grave AU if that isn't to much trouble?

Tbh, it was supposed to be a one time thing but I can give it another go :))

——

Zatanna's dealt with everything from demons to gods, eldritch horrors to cute little puppies. It says a lot, in her opinion, that the GIW managed to invoke such a response of recoiling horror in her.

The magician took in the blood and ectoplasm splattered walls, the writhing reanimated organism that came from exposure to said ectoplasm, and most damningly, the stacks of cracked and broken headstones piled in the corner of the room.

"Peek ruoy part tuhs!" she snarled, hands thrown out at the whimpering and beaten GIW agents. Her magic activated and sealed their voice boxes shut.

In the sudden silence, Zatanna walked to the stacked gravestones. She placed a hand upon the top most one and uttered a heart-broken apology, wondering how many ghosts perished.

"I'll bring you back to Phantom," she promised them. "Eb derots."

The gravestones vanished into her storage space, ready to be taken out when she willed them to be.

"Zatanna, everything finished?" Black Canary walked in, casting a disdainful glance at the agents. "You okay?"

"I can feel... there was much suffering here. They were supposed to be- dying was supposed to grant them peace. Not. Not this."

"We'll make sure it never happens again. The GIW is getting disbanded as we speak."

Their comms buzzed.

"Zatanna, the U.N. is requesting the presence of the ghost king in order to make amends." Batman said.

"Tell them he's going to be busy grieving the massacre of his people, committed by a branch of their government. We'll be damn lucky if he doesn't start a war over this, Batman. He'd be well within his rights to. It's bad."

"I'll hold them off."

"We're wrapping up on our end."

"Copy."

Zatanna turned to the scientists and agents and intoned "Eb devom edistuo!"

"C'mon Zee, let's go." Black Canary made sure she was out of the way before screaming, unleashing a wave of sound that shattered and crumbled the glass and walls of the facility.

"Fuck the government." Zatanna mumbled. How was she supposed to tell Phantom about the gravestones?

----

Phantom floated, the lost look on the young boy's face pulling at their hearts as his hands hovered above the broken gravestones, not daring to touch them.

"So many..." he whispered. Zatanna could do nothing but offer a nod, jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury and grief.

Phantom looked up at her. "Thank you, Zatanna, for bringing them back to us."

"It was the least we could do." Zatanna replied, and something about her voice must have resonated with Phantom because his apathetic façade broke and suddenly, Zatanna had an armful of a grieving, wailing ghost child. Her magic shielded her, but the glass began breaking at his ghostly wail. Still, Zatanna could tell he was holding back in attempt to not kill them all via the vacuum of space.

"Dleihs eht rewothctaw!" She quickly chanted. "Go ahead, you won't hurt us. I've shielded the place."

The glass stopped cracking and Phantom, no longer worried about killing her, screamed against her shoulder.

"Why?! WHAT CRIMES DID WE COMMIT BY DYING?! IT WASN'T ENOUGH TO SUFFER WHEN WE DIED?! WHY?!"

----

[woniwontons]

dead end - CHAPTER TWO

bob reynolds x therapist!reader

summary: after being assigned to monitor bob reynolds’ recovery inside the new avengers tower, you try to keep your fears hidden. but between quiet training sessions and unsettling therapy logs, you start to realize he’s watching you more than he should—and that something inside him never stops whispering.

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: abuse by parent, psychological thriller, inaccurately depicted mental illness, emotional manipulation (by void), nightmares, slow burn, possessive themes, combat violence, unreliable realities, hallucinations, left some yearning crumbs for y'all in here since its shorter...

chapter nav: one | two | three | four (coming soon)

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°｡⋆

ANONYMOUS POV

Transcript Log | INTERNAL FILE [REDACTED] Access Level: TOP SECRET Date: [REDACTED] Location: Off-site - Audio Transcript Only

Scientist 1: “Vitals?”

Scientist 2: “Stable. No unexpected rejection so far. Slight fluctuations during REM, but within limits.”

Scientist 1: “Neurological?”

Scientist 2: “That’s where it gets interesting. Her activity spikes in proximity to ▇▇▇▇▇.”

Scientist 1: “And the Void?”

Scientist 2: “We can’t detect it directly. But ▇▇▇▇'s energy readings dropped 17% during yesterday’s session. That’s the first time we’ve seen a suppression event without sedation or one of the New Avengers present.”

Scientist 1: “▇▇▇▇ doesn’t know?”

Scientist 2: “No. She thinks she’s been ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. She was flagged in her old unit. High trauma index, low emotional volatility, adaptable but guarded.”

Scientist 1: “Are you saying ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ is working?"

Scientist 2: “There's too many variables here to know for sure, but I would say we're working towards a successful run.”

Scientist 1: “Continue observation. Let's try to introduce physical contact. If ▇▇▇▇▇ starts to escalate, we’ll pull her.”

Scientist 2: “And if he doesn’t?”

Scientist 1: “Then we’ve found the answer to our biggest problem.”

End of File

READER POV

You were barefoot.

The floor beneath your feet was sticky with something—beer, grease, maybe both—and the carpeted hallway stunk of cigarette smoke that had long since stained the drywall yellow. You knew, instantly, this wasn’t your memory, or at least nowhere you had ever been before.

You turned your head slowly.

A battered recliner sat in the living room, worn through at the armrests, facing a television that loudly blasted a wrestling match. The broken blinds cast sunlight across the floor. Outside, you could just barely make out a patch of dying grass.

"Where am I?" you asked yourself, feeling so lucid in this dream.

Down the hall, a door slammed.

"Useless piece of shit!" a man's voice roared from the other side of the house. You froze.

A crash. Glass shattering against the floor.

"You thought I wouldn't find out what you said to your uncle about me? Fucking liar, can't even man up and say it to my face."

Heavy footsteps approached the room you were in. Fear shot up your chest as you held your breath, slowly backing away from the hall before running to the nearest door. A set of steps appeared before you as you yanked the door open, and you ran upstairs to escape whatever was coming in your direction.

An attic.

You creeped quietly inside, looking for somewhere to hide if the footsteps continued to follow. It was a mess up there, filled with boxes and old furniture.

A broken patch in the floorboards appeared itself to you, drawing you to it. You crouched onto the floor and took in the scene underneath.

It was a small bedroom. On the floor, hunched near the edge of a mattress stripped bare, sat a boy. Knees to chest. Head down. Breathing shallow.

You recognized him.

Even this young, even under a mop of sweat-drenched brunette hair, you knew it was Bob. Thin. Shoulders curled inward, ready to disappear.

And across from him, towering in the doorframe, was his father.

Drunk. Flushed red. Breathing hard as he held a folded belt in his grasp.

His hand balled into a fist and slammed the doorframe hard enough to splinter it.

"Look at me, boy! Have you got something wrong with you in the head now?"

Bob didn't move. He didn't even cry, and you felt your heart throbbing in pain at the sight.

You leaned back from the floor as you felt a change in the energy of the attic, your senses screaming in paranoia.

A presence.

Your body swung around and your eyes met with your reflection in a mirror propped up in the corner of the attic. The air around you dropped in temperature, and behind you, stood a proper reason to shudder.

The Void.

He didn’t speak immediately, only stood at your back—close enough that you could feel the shape of him. His voice came low and deep, curling beneath your skin.

"No one came for me then."

You made in a sharp intake breath, unsure of what to do about such a powerful being standing right behind you. The crack of a whipped belt stung your ear from the room below you, causing you to wince at the following sound of younger Bob's cries.

"Why... why am I here?" you whispered, your voice cracking.

"I remember every time I wished I could simply burn this house down to get the peace I wanted. Every moment in this house turned me further into this."

You watch him reach toward you in the mirror, and you shut your eyes in horror, squeezing them in a grimace. But the touch that came was not in aggression, but a gentle grace of your forearm that made the hair stand up in goosebumps. You felt the tingle of his exhale meeting the back of your ear as he bent down to whisper.

"Is it wrong to want you to see it all?"

Your voice trembled. “This isn’t my memory to have, I shouldn't be here.”

"Well you've already seen it now, haven't you?"

You opened your eyes again to watch him. He tilted his head further forward, his gaze sweeping over the outline of your side profile. Refusing to look over, you held your gaze to the mirror, ignoring the sight of his blurred face in your peripheral. Examining you.

"You make it so quiet, I ought to consider you a threat." His hand on your forearm creeped downwards, his finger tips sliding down to the back of your palm. "But I can't help but to feel so intrigued."

You couldn’t breathe now. Your heart beat so loudly, you swore he could hear it hitting the inside of your chest.

"Let me keep you, y/n."

The training room on Sublevel 3 was colder than you remembered.

Bright, clinical lights shone down from above, reflecting off the polished floors. In the center of the mat, Bucky stood with his fists raised, sweat darkening the fabric of his T-shirt. Across from him, chest heaving but posture composed, was Bob.

He hadn’t seen you enter.

Neither had Bucky. But Yelena had.

She sat on the edge of a supply crate, legs crossed, examining the scene in front of her with careful precision. Her eyes flicked to you the moment you stepped inside and she swung her legs over the wooden crate to talk.

"You weren't on the schedule for today," she said, voice low.

“I’m not here officially,” you replied, watching as Bob ducked a punch and countered with a clean elbow to Bucky’s side. “Harding asked me to monitor some responses.”

That was a lie, but you needed to see Bob again. Or rather, you felt a strong, impulsive urge to do so. Especially after the dream.

“Again,” Bucky barked.

Bob nodded once. Then lunged.

The fight seemed brutal to you, all just weight and momentum. Bucky dodged the first blow and swept Bob’s leg, but Bob twisted midair, landing hard and kicking upward in the same motion.

You stepped closer to Yelena, clipboard clutched to your chest more out of reflex than necessity.

"Always with the clipboard, do you carry that around with you 24/7?" Yelena asked sarcastically. You scoffed back a laugh, realizing how nerdy you likely looked at all times. She eased your nerves a bit and you relaxed, letting your shoulders down as you watched the show.

Except, you couldn't help but notice that Bob was holding back. You could feel it.

Each punch he threw stopped just short of full force, like he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. But every time Bucky hit him, especially when it was hard, sharp, or unexpected, you saw it.

His eyes.

Brown. Then gold. Then back again.

A flash. So quick, you might’ve thought you imagined it. But the next time it happened, his hands changed too.

From flesh to something blacker than shadows, a smoke crawled up his wrists. Then, flickering back to normal as if nothing had happened.

Bucky didn’t flinch. He just kept pushing him.

"Does that always happen? It's in the notes, but I've never seen it with my eyes before," you question Yelena.

She shrugs, looking at you curiously. "Usually it's a little crazier than this. I'm getting a bit bored if I'm being honest."

Your reply is interrupted by Bucky's shout, “Focus, Bob. Control it.”

Bob gritted his teeth, catching Bucky’s next blow with a forearm. “I am.”

The room felt like it was vibrating slightly. Just under the surface.

You took another step forward.

"Let m̷̻̑e̸͔̍ ̵̙͋o̸͖̕u̵̡̓t̸̫͛."

The hairs on your arm sparked up again in shock. It wasn’t spoken aloud, but you felt it. Like pressure against your ribs. A whisper from inside someone else’s lungs. Something that had never occurred to you before. You looked to your side, but Yelena didn't seem to have heard the demonic voice that you had.

Bob swung wide and missed.

Bucky came in low and landed a blow to his ribs.

Bob staggered—and his eyes flared gold for just a second too long.

CRACK.

The floor beneath his foot cracked outward like broken glass.

Bucky immediately backed off, hands raised. “Bob—”

Bob doubled over, clutching his head.

“I’m fine,” he growled through his teeth, though his fingers had turned black again, wrists trembling. And simultaneously, a pressure grew in your own chest as he slowly lost control.

Bucky didn’t move.

Yelena stood, walking closer to the center of the room where the boys stood still. You followed closely behind her, ready to assist in any way you could.

"Bob?" Yelena spoke as she stopped in front of his crouched form.

And that was when Bob’s head snapped up, golden eyes searching the room like an animal sensing something off.

Then he saw you.

His posture stilled. His chest heaved once.

All of the blackness in his hands retreated at once.

“Did I lose control again?” he said softly, voice raw. It seemed like a question for the room, but he was staring directly at you. "Why do you make it so... quiet?"

You felt pathetic as your heart dropped as the memory of what the void said to you in the dream. "What?"

Bob straightened up quickly, smoothing the bottom of his shirt.

"Nothing," he exclaimed quickly, walking off to retrieve his water bottle at the corner of their training room.

Yelena looked between the two of you, confusion knitting her brows together. "What the hell was that?"

"Also nothing," you say curtly before spinning on your heel and walking away, noting the event on your clipboard.

The walls of Dr. Harding’s office were too white. The kind of professional warmth that pretended it wasn’t designed to contain people.

The artificial daylight panels made you squint as you sat in the stiff-backed chair across from her desk, hands folded politely in your lap. Your ridiculous clipboard rested beside you, useless for once.

Harding looked up from her tablet, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Thank you for coming by on short notice.”

You gave a small nod. “Of course. Is this about yesterday’s training observation?”

“Partly.” She adjusted something on her screen. “I just wanted to check in personally. After all, this assignment came with… heightened expectations.”

That was her way of saying: You aren't meeting them.

“I’ve been logging everything daily,” you said quickly. “Vitals. Verbal behavior. Motor regulation. There’s nothing I haven’t reported.”

Harding smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know. Your notes have been thorough.” She paused, then added, “Surprisingly intuitive, actually.”

You sat up a little straighter.

She tapped her stylus once, then looked at you again. “How have you been sleeping?”

You blinked. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “Any dreams? Emotional disturbances?”

You hesitated, just a second too long.

Harding noticed.

You cleared your throat. “I really don’t remember most of them.”

She smiled again. “That’s normal, especially under cognitive strain. The stress of being near dangerous people can elevate cortisol, even unconsciously.”

You gave a tight nod. “I’ve managed worse.”

“I’m sure you have.” She leaned forward slightly. “Still, Reynolds is… uniquely sensitive with his emotions. His feelings vary amongst the different staff members. But with you,” She gestured idly. “he seems to have a preference for.”

You looked at her. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Harding hummed. “Mm. That’s what makes it so effective.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Your hands folded tighter in confusion.

“Have you noticed any… changes in your own behavior since starting the assignment?”

The question was clinical. Neutral. Like she was measuring you against a standard you weren’t aware of.

“No,” you said, but your voice came out flatter than intended.

Dr. Harding didn’t argue though. Just tapped her stylus again.

The silence dragged.

You stood a little too quickly. “If that’s all, I have reports to finish.”

She nodded, but you could feel her eyes following you even as you turned.

“Thank you,” she said politely. “And y/n? Please let me know if your dreams become more memorable to you.”

You sincerely hoped they did not become more memorable than they already were.

link to chapter three

hi everyone! a bit of a shorter update that i think is a good segue into the events of chapter three. i wanted to get this one out quickly since i know we're all starving for more bob content... or at least i am.

if you have any requests for bob one-shots, please feel free to let me know! link to my requests is in my pinned post <3

ALSO: if you are not currently on the taglist, please comment down below if you want to be! if you already commented on chapter one, don't worry because i've already added you :)

[junkdrawerfan]

In honor of messy bitch Tim who deserves a maneater era after his womanizer era in the 90s. Here is a fic concept:

Bernard wants to get engaged young. 22-23. The minute he’s done with school he wants that ring on Tim’s finger.

Tim — allergic to commitment outside of the cape — is like “nope!” And it’s their biggest fight. It actually ends with them taking a six month “break” which Tim reads as a “break up” and proceeds to enjoy a voluminous ho phase, slipping in and out of the clubs of Gotham and Metropolis with Kon, Bart, and Dick as friends/guides.

It’s during this time period that Tim starts sleeps with Kon. They might have experimented when they were younger (no homo was said at some point because that closet was made of glass). A part of Tim, the part that has been in love with this boy even if he hadn’t had the language for it just yet, wants to cling to Kon with all the spite and terror of a bat. But the other part, the same part that ran away from Bernard, knows he won’t be satisfied if he ties himself to Kon just yet. There’s so much more to explore, to experience. He’s a researcher at heart after all. A scientist and an archeologist. He wants to experiment.

And Kon… Kon wants. And if this is how Tim will have him, he’ll enjoy it. He’s a “life is for living” kind of guy. If it becomes something more, Kon would be delighted. But he’s lasted this long as one of Tim’s best friends by meeting him where he’s at. And it’s fun. The sex and the partying and experimenting. Tim and Kon make it fun.

(Dick is happy to be Tim’s guru on all things safe, sane, and consensual. Honestly, Tim’s crisis of the week is small potatoes compared to most of the family DRAMA Dick deals with.)

And then Bernard comes back into the picture. After six months of licking his wounds and realizing he’d rather have a part of Tim instead of nothing at all, asks for another chance. He even suggests keeping an open relationship, as long as Tim doesn’t say “I love you” to anyone else and agrees to a date a week. Bernard can live with it. He’s not… thrilled, exactly. It’s not his first choice but he’d take some of Tim instead of none.

Tim introduces Bernard to Kon three months after settling into the new arrangement. They hadn’t met before then because Tim had no way to explain their connection out of the capes. Now Tim can say, “Bernard, this is my most frequent partner, Kon. He’s been my best friend since I was 14.”

And so the messiness commences!

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: hobbies/habits i think they would pick up when they’re older

COMMENTS: i was thinkin hard about this but ofc rubia helped me on both leo's and haku's (as haku authority ofc ofc <333)

Jin picks up piano to cope with the dread of his younger years. You can often find him tentatively playing through the pieces he loves, worried about getting them right.

Tohma picks up a hobby like auto mechanics. It sounds odd at first until you remember that he was originally in the house full of junk cars...

Luca picks up writing children’s books. If possible, he would read them out to children at the local library, and talk about how he wrote each one for his little brother and you.

Kaito has much more time to bake now that he’s married and settled down with you! He always finds the time in the mornings to bake you a sweet treat before you leave for the day.

Alan starts organizing community service events for your area. He wants to be able to help out the youth and give back to the community at the same time.

Sho would pick up gardening as a way to grow his own herbs, vegetables, and fruits for you and his meals. He takes a lot of pride in his garden.

Leo would most likely pick up freelancing as a way to still go about his usual activities while maintaining the house. He’s mellowed out a lot since marrying you, but he’s still Leo.

Haru starts quilting, making little blankets for the animals (and big ones for you!) He’s definitely a huge animal guy with a bunch of pets in his older years.

Towa picks up gardening for sure, but especially the care of your wildflowers. He treasures each and every dandelion and will occasionally pick some up to eat for your both!

Ren starts steaming his video game playthroughs and even reactions to/recommendations of some horror movies. His followers beg to hear more about you but he always draws a hard line.

Taiga starts going out on the shooting range to remember his high school days. He feels the memories fade more and more with time, and he would like to hold onto the years in which he met you.

Romeo starts making his own jewelry. He’s very meticulous about the whole process and will screech at you if you interrupt him (he still loves you, yes.)

Ritsu starts making coffee every morning to start his day. At first it starts as a way for him to get his daily caffeine fix, but you can tell he’s genuinely interested about how the drink is made.

Subaru starts developing his own tea blends. He starts by buying the ingredients, and then gets advice from Sho on how to grow his own.

Haku would pick up more artsy hobbies to fill up the vacant spaces of his house. He wants, more than anything, to make your shared space a home.

Zenji would pick up cross stitching! You can find him curled up in his armchair when you come home, staring at his linen over the rim of his glasses, carefully sewing little people to life.

Edward starts traveling from place to place and insists you come with him. Oh, you have a job? But my dear, surely you have enough leave to spend some time with your husband...? He doesn’t have forever with you, you know...

Rui, upon finding out that he couldn’t kill plants, picked up anomalous plant caretaking in Darkwick. Now that he’s married to you, he adopts the plants for your world, and does his best to take care of them too.

Lyca starts volunteering in soup kitchens and food banks, putting those customer service skills he learned from Rui to work. Whenever he has free time on the weekends, he goes out and helps as many people as he can.

Yuri starts making soap for the two of you from scratch! You can find him outside working with lye and all of the other ingredients in his mad scientist get up just to keep you clean and healthy <3

Jiro starts knitting. He needs something to do with his hands when he’s not working, and creating blankets and hats for you and your loved ones works well enough for him!

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hi!! I love your writing!!!!! Could I request some totally self indulgent headcanons or a small Drabble/fic? Ford x reader on their birthday! It’s my birthday in a few weeks and I just really want my fictional man there 😭😂 but I thought I’d ask early in case your inbox was full! Thank you! ❤️

when the scientist loves you | Ford Pines x reader

hii angel, happy birthday!! ♡ i hope your day is as lovely as you are, may this year bring you endless inspiration, happy moments and everything your heart desires! ♡ ♡ ♡

tags: birthday, fluff, sfw, established relationship

Ford's voice carries softly from the kitchen, muttering as he reads measurements off an old recipe card. You sit at the table, watching the back of his head tilt toward the stovetop. The apron Mabel gave him, the one with "may the fork be with you" scribbled across the front in obnoxious block letters, look ridiculously cute tied over his sweater.

“You look very dignified in that, professor,” you tease, propping your chin on your hand.

Ford turns his head to shoot you a dry look, though there’s a tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Sweetheart, you know, my culinary doctorate doesn’t let me cook in anything else.” he teases you back.

You laugh and Ford straightens a little, pushing his glasses up his nose with the back of his wrist.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you look at the table where a neatly folded napkin waits beside a single glass of wine. “it’s just a birthday.”

He glances over his shoulder, his face expression changes into serious one. “Just a birthday?” he repeats incredulously. “this is the day the universe decided to grace existence with you. The fact that you think it’s ‘just’ anything is absurd.”

You're staring at him in silence right now because, to be honest, you can't find the right words to respond to such a compliment. And as if satisfied with your surprised cute face, Ford turns back to the stovetop, missing the way your lips press together to suppress a smile.

“Besides,” he adds, stirring whatever’s in the pan, “i’ve run calculations. The probability of me burning this is well below fifteen percent.”

“Comforting.” your answer makes Stanford smirk, but he keeps his focus on his work.

Minutes later, he places the plate in front of you with both satisfaction and concern on his face. “honesty, no pressure, but if it’s terrible, i might die of shame. . .”

You roll your eyes at your husband because how does a man that smart always doubt and criticize himself?

Taking a bite, your lips turn into smile, the taste becomes warm and pleasant, pulling a hum of approval from your chest. “Ford, this is amazing?”

He exhales with relief and pulls out the chair beside you. “Good, i wasn’t sure if the seasoning would—”

“You’re incredible,” you interrupt and Ford stops mid-sentence as the tips of his ears turn red.

“Believe me, my love, you deserve nothing less.”

You eat together and at one point, he picks up the fork himself, offering you another bite. Once the plates are cleared, he stands abruptly, holding out his hand. “Lets go, sweetheart.”

“Where?” you ask, letting him pull you to your feet.

“You’ll see.” you barely have time to grab your coat before he’s leading you toward the door. His six fingered hand feels so warm in yours as you step outside into the cool air. “Close your eyes,” he says, and when you hesitate, he squeezes your hand. “trust me.”

You huff but obey, curling your fingers against his. Ford proudly guides you through the woods as he starts talking enthusiastically. “You know, if we were walking blindfolded through the quantum multiverse instead of this forest, you’d have a thirty-five percent chance of stepping into a dimension where time runs backward.”

You grin, keeping your eyes closed. “Fascinating.” you're parodying his catchphrase. “should i be worried about that here?”

“Unlikely,” he deadpans, though you can hear the smirk in his tone. “but if you hear an oscillating sound, let me know immediately.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously well-prepared.” some minutes later the ground beneath your feet changes texture, the soft crunch of dirt giving way to grass, and Ford’s pace slows.

“Are we there yet?” you ask impatiently.

“Almost, darling. Okay, stop. You can open your eyes.” you hesitate, preparing yourself before letting your eyelids flutter open. The sight in front of you makes you gasp.

Ahead of you, nestled in the clearing, is a flower that glows, it's long and translucent petals, curved outward, are made of the thinnest glass. Luminous veins, similar in color to silver, pulsate through them. The center shimmers with different colors, like the aurora borealis trapped in a single bloom.

“Ford. . .” you take a step forward, the damp grass pressing under your shoes, but you can’t look away. You turn your head slightly, glancing at him. Ford is staring at the flower too, the bright light from the flower is reflected in his glasses, but his expression isn’t the detached curiosity he usually wears while talking about his discoveries. It’s different now, gentler.

“A luminaria eximia,” Ford explains, predicting your question. “it’s rare, very rare, it only blooms under specific conditions.”

“You brought me here to see this?”

“Of course,” he replies with intonation as if the question confuses him. “you deserve extraordinary things.”

Your chest tightens and the tears you’ve been holding back sting at the edges of your vision. You don’t want him to see, don’t want to ruin the moment with your sudden wave of overwhelming emotion, so you turn away and close the space between you and him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest.

Ford stiffens, caught off guard by your reaction. Did he do something wrong? That's his first reaction, worry and concern for you, but then he relaxes, settling his hands settling your back, hugging you too. The time he spent with you made him know exactly what to do without you needing to ask and explain.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently, leaning down. “now what’s this?”

You shake your head, tightening your arms around him. “You—” you hate how your voice trembles, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

Ford chuckles. “sweetheart, of course i did, i wanted to.”

You lift your head slightly, still not letting him see your face, and his hand moves to your chin, tilting it upward until you have no choice but to meet his attentive gaze.

“You deserve this,” his thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek. “you deserve everything.” his words unravel you completely and he must see it because his brows knit together with concern before softening again. His six-fingered hands cup your face gently, treating you like his precious artifact he’s vowed to protect. “you mean so much to me, i don’t know how else to say it except—”

But you don’t let him finish. You lean up, standing on your toes to close the small distance between you, and kiss him. The first reason is just because you want to, and the second is because that smartass needs to shut up with his touching speeches before you flood the whole field with your tears. Ford freezes for a moment, startled, but then his hands find your face and he deepens it carefully, afraid of breaking the moment.

You don’t know how long you stay like that because you're ready to spend eternity with his lips on yours, kissing you slowly, so sensually, softly, so damn tenderly, trying to memorize the shape of your mouth while his thumbs moving in slow arcs over your cheeks.

When you finally pull back, his hair ruffled from your hands, Ford looks at you as though you’ve just rewritten the laws of the universe. “oh, you really do have a way of surprising me.” he raises his eyebrows.

“Takes one to know one,” the corner of your mouth lifting as you run your finger over his jawline.

He laughs at that and after one last lingering glance at the luminous flower, he takes your hand again. “come on,” his voice changes into more teasing. “i haven’t even given you your present yet.”

“This wasn’t it?” you ask, gesturing back toward the flower as he starts to lead you out of the clearing.

“No, this was. . . an extra. A bonus, if you will.”

“Ah, an extra,” you repeat teasingly. “you’re ridiculous, Stanford Pines.”

“You already said that.”

By the time you step inside the Mystery Shack, the lingering chill of the evening has melted away. The warm glow of the lamps greets you and Ford’s hand lingers on yours before he releases it. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of a chair. You follow suit, watching as he rubs his hands together nervously, before giving you a soft lopsided smile.

“Wait here for a moment!” and though you’re still glowing from the earlier surprises, his tone piques your curiosity again. He disappears, leaving you standing there, before you can ask any questions.

When your husband returns, he’s holding a small wooden box, polished as though he carved it himself. Its edges are rounded and there’s a mark burned into the top: his initials, alongside yours.

“This,” and for all his brilliance, his voice sounds so nervous as he holds it out to you. “this is for. . . you.”

You take the box carefully and lift the lid. Inside, on a piece of dark fabric, is a necklace. No, calling it a necklace doesn’t do it justice. It’s far more otherworldly, the pendant a swirling prism of beautiful colors that change, reminding you of the starlight caught in a bottle.

You stare at it, not daring to find the words.

“It’s called a crystallite shard,” Ford explains again. “i found it on one of my expeditions. It only exists in one dimension and it’s said to reflect the thoughts of the person wearing it. Not their memories exactly, but their essence, in a way.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed. “Ford. . .”

“I thought,” he continues, “that if anyone deserved to have something so unique and unrepeatable, it would be you.”

You’re speechless, brushing your finger over the pendant as it gleams under the light of the Mystery Shack.

And before you can say something, ”b-but that’s not all,” Ford gestures to the box. You tilt it slightly and see another layer beneath the fabric: a small, intricately detailed wooden charm, shaped like a constellation. More simple compared to the necklace, but so beautiful in its own way.

“I carved that,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s. . . it’s the constellation we saw the first time we stargazed together. I wanted you to have something from me, personally.”

Your heart swells and before he can say anything else, you throw your arms around his neck, clutching him tightly. “Ford, you didn’t have to. This is. . . this is so perfect.”

Stanford smiles softly, wrapping his arms around you. “you deserve perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you deserve more than I could ever give, darling.”

“This is more than enough,” you pull back to look into his eyes.

Ford akes the necklace from the box. “May i?” what a damn gentleman, you think and nod, turning around as he drapes it carefully around your neck. When he’s finished, you touch the pendant lightly, marveling at the way it seems to shift with your movements. “It suits you, matches your beautiful eyes.” he just stands there and can't stop admiring you.

You both end up on the couch not long after, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find. Ford's arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you against him. But some time later, blanket is forgotten as his hands desperately, but gently explore every part of you they can reach, your back, your arms, the curve of your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ford brushes his lips against your hair. “i hope you know that.”

You laugh. “well, you tell me often enough.”

“Not often enough,” he says firmly, cupping your cheek. “i don’t think i could ever say it enough or show you enough. You're everything i don’t deserve but can’t let go of.”

“Ford—” you start, but he doesn’t let you speak, kissing you, stealing the words from your mouth. Ford tilts your head gently, threading his long fingers into your hair as the kiss grows with aching intensity, damn, he’s been starving for this moment. Your hands find his chest, his shoulders, clutching at him.

“Every time i touch you, i can’t believe you’re real.” he breathes out between kisses, trailing his lips down to your jaw, then your neck. He pauses there, pressing another kiss just below your ear. “your skin,” his hands trace the line of your shoulders. “so warm, i could stay like this forever.”

You can’t even reply, not when he’s kissing you like this, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

Then he leans back only to take your hands in his, bringing them to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “these hands, they’ve done so much. They’ve built a life for us, cared for me in ways i never thought i’d experience again. They’re precious to me.” you bite your lower lip when his mouth finds the delicate skin of your wrists. “and this heart,” he presses his lips where your pulse beats steadily. “so full of love, so generous, i’m in awe of it every single day.”

“So beautiful, every part of you. I could spend a lifetime just looking at you, touching you, loving you. I just love you, love you so much it terrifies me sometimes.”

You can’t find the words to respond, so you just lean into him, burying your face in his neck as he holds you. His hands never stop moving, caressing and holding you, trying to reassure himself that you’re here, that you’re his. Because you damn deserve to be cherished, every inch of you deserves to be kissed, to be loved. And Ford Pines will spend the rest of his life making sure you know that.

“Come here, darling, closer, need you closer,” he pulls you deeper into his embrace, his lips are on you again, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. You giggle when he presses another kiss to your temple, then to your ear. “do you know how long i’ve waited to hold you like this? to touch you, to love you? it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but he doesn’t stop, cradling your face in both hands. “youre extraordinary, every part of you. your mind, your heart, your body. I don’t know how i got so lucky, but i’ll never stop trying to be worthy of you. You're everything to me and i’ll spend every day reminding you of that. Happy birthday, darling, thank you for letting me love you.” Ford kisses you until you’re dizzy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to keep up.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“��No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[kaleldobrev]

From Russia With Love

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: You’re the first person Ben goes to see after escaping from Russia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing (5x), Fluff

Authors Note: The sequel to Memories Are All I Have | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Forty years. Forty Goddamn fucking years without you. Forty years of not being able to kiss you or hold you in his arms. Forty years without being able to tell you how much he loved you; or hear you saying it in return.

But there was a part of him that started to wonder if you had moved on from him because of how long it has been. There was a part of him that wouldn't have blamed you if you did, but he dreaded the thought of you being with anyone but him. You were the only person he ever dreamt of being with, settling down with. You were the first person to ever tell him, "I love you," and it wasn't just empty words — you had actually meant it.

Despite it being almost forty years without you, he still loved you just as much as he did the last time he had saw you back in 1984.

As he walked along the Manhattan streets, memories of the two of you walking along these very streets started to flood him. He could hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your laughter. He could feel the softness of your hands in his calloused ones. He could hear you faintly saying "I love you" to him in his ear.

But that very brief memory he had of you was quickly started to fade away, as he heard music playing — a song that was all too familiar to him and not in a good way. It was a Russian pop song that the scientists would often play when they would experiment on him. When they would pierce his skin with various knives and force feed him chemical mixtures.

He dropped his bag that he had slung over his shoulders onto the sidewalk; and he could faintly hear someone asking him if he was okay, but their words sounded so muffled like he was under water. Hunched over, everything went pitch black.

19 dead and 12 injured — read the news banner in big, bold, black letters across the bottom of the screen. "Holy shit," you mumbled to yourself, watching the news footage in absolute horror. One second the building in front of you was standing tall and proud; the next second, the sounds of glass shattering and floors collapsing in on itself. Scorch marks could be seen distinctly.

As you watched the news footage, a part of you wondered what Supe could have caused that immense amount of damage. But for the life of you, there was no Supe that you could think of. Homelander briefly entered your brain, but his beams wouldn't be able to cause that kind of damage. Yes, Homelander was powerful, but there was no way he would be able to do something like that, not unless Vought somehow found a way to give him more power than he already had.

"We were able to get the CCTV Footage of who could have caused this terrible tragedy. Unfortunately, due to the angle of the camera, the face could not be seen. But if you think you may know the terrorist reasonable, please contact Vought immediately," the news anchor stated; Vought's number flashing across the screen quickly.

As you watched the footage, it was grainy, black and white, and hard to tell who the terrorist could have been. But from what you could see, it just looked like some guy with an unkempt beard wearing a tracksuit that you hadn't seen since about the 1980s.

The man was standing there holding some kind of bag, and all of sudden the bag just dropped to his feet and he hunched over, kind of like he was having some kind of stomach pain, and a large beam of light just exploded from his body. "Holy shit..." you mumbled.

When Ben arrived at his — your apartment — he couldn't help but have a small sense of nervousness, like there was some kind of knot in the pit of his stomach. This kind of knot was something that he always experienced whenever he was about to get tortured by the Russians, as he never knew what kind of cruel experiments they were going to do on him.

He eyed the door and sighed, hoping that you were still living here, as this was the last known address that he had for you. It was the only place that he had hoped that you would be, as this was the only place he had pictured starting and having a family with you. It was a cozy penthouse about a few blocks away from Vought Tower; and it was a place that you and him had bought together as a home away from home away from Payback.

With a deep sigh, he knocked on the door, praying quietly to himself that you would be the one to answer the door and not someone else.

As you were in the kitchen making yourself some coffee, you heard a knock at your apartment door and raised a brow as you weren't expecting anyone or anything today; not even a package.

As the coffee started pouring into the mug, you started making your way to the front door, and yet there was another knock; but this time, the knock was quicker, almost impatient sounding. You rolled your eyes, and let out a small groan. "Christ on a Cross," you mumbled quietly to yourself. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" You called out, hoping that the impatient knocking would cease.

Ben heard the pads of your bare feet walking toward the apartment door, and he could hear you slightly groaning on the other side of the door, cursing every so often. But one of the phrases you said had caught him slightly by surprise. "Christ on a Cross," he heard you mumble; and a smirk tugged the corners of his lips.

He heard the chain come off the door, and within seconds the door was open before him, and there you were looking exactly the same way you had the last time he had seen you forty years ago. "Fuck, you haven't aged a day Sugar," he said, his voice sounding more gruff than he had expected it to sound.

"Fuck, you haven't aged a day Sugar," a man that strongly resembled and sounded exactly like Ben said before you. But there was no possible way that this could of been him, as you were told by not only Payback, but by Vought and Legend that he had been killed by the Russians, and that his body was taken behind the Iron Curtain. But he had just called you Sugar; and Sugar was a nickname that Ben and Ben alone had called you, and tended to only call you when it was just the two of you alone together.

But the way he was looking at you was the exact same way Ben had always looked at you. It was the look of pure adoration and joy; the look of 'you are the most gorgeous person in the world to me.' And those eyes...those distinctive hazel-green eyes that only Ben had had were staring directly at you.

You were unsure if you were seeing a ghost or having one of your hallucinations, but you reached out your hand toward him and gently placed your hand on his cheek, feeling the caveman like beard underneath your palm. When your hand made contact with his cheek, he almost melted into your touch, and his free hand made contact with the one that was on his cheek; almost checking to see if you were real too.

When your hand touched his cheek, he had to hold back all of the feelings that he had slowly building up over the course of four decades without you; he had envisioned this reunion for so long. "Ben..." your voice was low, soft, almost slightly hesitant as if you were trying to make sure that it was actually him before you. "It's...it's really you isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's really me," he responded almost as low as your voice was.

Your hand released from his cheek, and you stared at him with such longing in your eyes; almost as if you were trying to hold back tears. Without anymore hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, using that super strength of yours (practically squeezing him, and knocking the air slightly out of him), as your face buried a bit into his chest.

In that instant, Ben dropped the bag that was slung over his shoulder at this feet and wrapped his arms around you; giving you a similar type of embrace that you were currently giving him and rested his chin on the top of your head. "I've missed you so much," you told him; your face nuzzling even more into his chest.

He smiled into your hair and kissed the top of your head; an action that he didn't realize how much he missed doing until now. "I missed you too," he said. And for the first time in his life, he heard his voice breaking.

Tag List: @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @zombie-freak @waywardlatina @crystal555 @missscarlettangel @livingordeadwhoknows @79winchester @savagemickey03 @grx-deanslovr @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @the-achievementhunter If you’d like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Next-to-last of our species

Based on this

“Project Cadmus’ purpose was to create an anti-Justice League of sorts,” Dr. Lilva said calmly, twisting her hair in the hand that wasn’t handcuffed to the table. “But despite Luther’s unimaginable wealth, he was cutting costs in this incredibly delicate operation. He decided that instead of one clone for each Justice League member, we’d do one for two.”

“Why?” It wasn’t like Luthor to cut costs, Batman mused. He flaunted his money as if it’d make people forget he was a supervillain. Maybe he’d spent too much on his last mech suit. He should tell Dick that. “I don’t know. But it worked in our favor. We weren’t really creating clones. We were creating embryos that had your DNA. But, as we all know, you need two sets of DNA to form a full body. So, mixing two of your DNA together would not only give the clones a stable body, but the powers or,” she motioned to him, “intelligence of the parents. Which is how we got here.”

Three scientists from the now destroyed Project Cadmus, Dr. Lilva, Sal, and Trit, had turned themselves in to the Justice League saying they were willing to share everything that had happened during Project Cadmus on the grounds that they be allowed access to job opportunities in their very narrow fields. Dr. Sal, who seemed most against turning themselves in, rolled his eyes. “It would have been fine if—“ “No it wouldn’t!” Dr. Trit glared to him. “It would have!” “No! It’d be fine if we hadn’t combined Martian Manhunter and fucking Batman! We created a Batman that can shapeshift and move things with his mind!”

Dr. Lilva sighed. “Be quiet. Our first stable clone was made of a combination of Superman and Luthors DNA. Where we made a mistake was the creation of 14; the combination of Martian Manhunter and Batman.” Sal scoffed. “He wasn’t a mistake. He was a success. As smart and calculating as Batman, capable of shifting into inanimate objects and people, as well as incredible telepathic and technopathic abilities. The mistake was making him too smart. Too aware.”

“We wouldn’t have been able to prevent it.” He looked around. Superman didn’t look very good. He was pale and sweaty, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Martian Manhunter had a very odd expression on his face, as if he was trying to find every bit of information about ‘14’ that he could. He probably was. Superman met his eyes, and he knew he was questioning how he felt. He was fine.

“13, the combination of Superman and Luthor, didn’t have Luthors intelligence but he did have Superman’s powers. Average intelligence but very emotional, he seemed to feel everything ten times more intensely than others. 14, however…. He was best at learning. Not just science or math….” Lilva shivered. “He watched us, copied us, and it took us far too long to realize, but he was reading our minds. Learning.”

“Unfortunately, it took us longer to fully understand the lengths of his technopathy. We thought it was just light electrokinesis, but—“ she cut herself off with a strangled laugh. “When he started talking about our personal information, things we looked up, things we talked about at home without our Cadmus devices—that’s when we realized he’d attached himself to every. Single. Piece of technology. That we’d interacted with.”

She motioned for Sal to speak. He sighed. “One day, I was staying late to finish some work. 13 was incredibly clingy, and 14 was a charmer, so they got to share a room. One of the walls was made entirely out of nth glass. 13 was asleep, and 14 was watching me. He tapped the internal mic, and asked me why I wasn’t at Lily’s recital. He told me that she was asking ‘Mrs. Millie’ if she’d seen me come in. He told me…. he told me ‘lily pad is very upset.’” Sal looked disturbed. “I had forgotten my daughter, Lily, had a play. She was playing the sugar plum fairy. Mrs. Millie is her teacher, and ‘lily pad’ is a nickname I have for her. And he knew that, despite me never mentioning having a family.”

That was a little disturbing. Not just knowing about his family, that was easy with a little research into the employee, but to know not only the teachers name, the recital, and a nickname, that implied that ‘14’ had been watching Sal for quite a long time. “How does this imply that ‘14’ had ‘attached himself’ to your devices?” Lilva motioned for Trit to speak. She also sighed. “Ok. So. Uhh, during my break I’d, uh, use my home phone to watch Netflix and stuff. And keep in mind Project Cadmus was located almost twenty five miles underground, and the break room was on surface level.”

“Well, one day I was watching The Nun, and when I got back down I had to deal with a ‘strange situation.’” She used air quotes then sighed again, running a hand through her short hair. “13 was crying and 14 was trying to comfort him, telling him it ‘probably wasn’t real’, which made him cry harder. When I asked what was wrong, 14 yelled at me for ‘choosing to not watch Friends this one time.’ 13 interrupted him and asked me if demons were real. I told him I didn’t know, and asked 14 what this was all about.”

She laughed. “He didn’t answer, but it was pretty easy to figure out. I usually watched Friends during my break, but I’d finished it at home. So I’d decided to watch a movie. And before this we’d seen signs of 14 building a mind link between himself and 13. It was obvious that he’d attached himself to my phone, and shared with 13 what I was watching. Unfortunately, it was a horror movie.”

“After that we noticed that the electric doors would unlock and relock at random, usually locking us and the other doctors in and letting 13 and 14 out. Our computers would glitch and turn off when using them, the machines made to test their ability’s would break down right before testing. I’d tried to make sure no one put physical locks on anything because I didn’t want 14 learning how to pick locks.” Trit sighed again and glared at Sal.

“And someone didn’t listen to me.” Sal scoffed and rolled his eyes. Lilva glared at both of them. “How was I supposed to know he’d learn? He didn’t have any lock picking skills or anything to pick locks with!” Lilva gave him a look. “He had his mind.” “So, ‘14’ knows how to pick locks telepathically?” “Not just pick them,” Trit replied, “in less than a day he learned how to unlock and relock them. We learned this when Sal turned off the power to their electrical door and put locks on them.”

Trit and Lilva waited for Sal to speak. He grumbled. “I went in to fix a light that 13 had broken when he was practicing flying, turned around, and both of them were outside the room. I watched as 14 relocked the locks he’d unlocked without touching them.” Sal looked embarrassed. “I was stuck for three hours as they destroyed the lab. I had access to my—“ Lilva raised her hand for him to stop. She was looking at her phone. She was pale.

“Ms. Lilva?” He asked after a moment, “Is something wrong?” She took a deep breath, then tried to give her phone to him. She wasn’t able to. When her arm raised a spark left her phone and she yelped and dropped it, rubbing her hand as it continued to spark. At the same time, the Watchtowers main computer turned on. Batman felt himself and the others tense. The screen was covered in static.

“Stand up!” Lilva told him, her voice shaking. “Flash, stand up and walk fourteen feet backwards from the screen. Do it! Now!” Sal muttered swears. “Why me?” Flash asked, even as he stood. “Because you’re the only one who’ll give us an instant honest reaction on what you see.” That was a good point.

Flash went fourteen feet, turned and jumped. “Holy shit!” He almost choked. “There’s eyes in the screen! Like, a face—oh my god it’s smiling at me.” Bruce quickly stood, as did the others. The scientists stayed seated. Batman walked backwards to Flash, keeping his eyes on the screen. There was nothing. Static, static, static, then—he stood next to Flash and he appeared.

He took a few steps back and forward, testing his eyes. A foot forward he was gone. And a foot back, the same. Only when Batman stood fourteen feet away from the screen did he see his and J’onn’s clone, 14. He was hidden in the static, but at fourteen feet away the static melted together to form a face. It reminded him of when he was a child, stuck at galas and so bored he looked to the marble to find hidden pictures.

The static face was watching them intently. Batman could feel a finger gently poking his mind, trying to enter. He locked his psyche down tightly. 14’s face seemed to become amused. “Interesting…” Martian Manhunter muttered. “He knows who we are. All of us.” Superman stood next to Batman, tense. “What do you mean?” “It means he knows our identities. He knows where your parents live, the code to Batman’s contingency safe, the names of Wonder Woman’s mother and aunts….it seems that the moment the doctors phones got close enough to the computer, he attached himself to it.”

That wasn’t good. The static face seemed to think it was hilarious, laughing. “Who are you?” He asked sternly. It didn’t seem to affect the face. The face disappeared. Bold words appeared. ‘You know who I am,’ they said, ‘you just spent ten minutes talking about us’. So he’d been listening. How quickly was he able to get into the computer? “What do you want?” The words disappeared and were replaced with new ones. ‘Nothing much. Just, oh, I don’t know—the people that tortured and experimented on us dead? That too much to ask?’

So revenge. “What does 13 think of that plan?” He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a low ringing sound coming from the computer. It got louder at his question. ‘His name is Connor. And he shouldn’t have to worry about these things. He had it worse than I did.’ He glanced toward the scientists. They’d only told them of the clones and that there had been experiments—they hadn’t said what type of experiments. “Could you elaborate?”

‘Sure. The people sitting in front of you–if they can even be called people–are sadistic, selfish, narcissistic assholes who not only ‘encouraged’ us to show our powers with physical torture but also sold information they learned in the project to third parties. Like they’re doing right now.’ Suddenly Sal, Trit, and Lilva’s bodies began sparking and smoking. Trit shrieked and removed a wire from her hair and waistline. They sparked and the one from her waist caught on fire. Trit continued to panic as she tried to pull a chip out from under her manicured nails.

Sal removed two chips and a wire from his tie, belt and hair while Lilva removed four wires from her bra, waistline, shoelace and hair band. The one from her hair caught fire before she could pull it out, and a small section of her hair caught fire. Sal helped her pat it out as a distorted laugh came from Lilvas phone on the table.

‘She deserves worse.’ The words on the screen said, ‘Superman. Have you ever been burned before?’ Superman didn’t answer, instead whispering to Wonder Women about how odd it was he didn’t hear the wires and bugs electrical humming. ‘CLARK KENT.’ The words were bigger now, and he felt someone pinching his mind. ‘DO YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE BURNED? DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN BE BURNED?’

Superman jumped and turned, reading the words. “Uh, no—no, I haven’t. I can’t.” He sounded unsure. Batman didn’t blame him. The static disappeared, and a video played. It looked to be camera footage. It showed a medical room. Sitting on one of the beds was a boy, maybe fifteen, with short curly black hair and blue eyes. His skin was unhealthily pale, and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants, the shirt having Superman’s symbol on one side and the number 13 on the other.

Out of place in the medical room was a fire pit. There was a fire poker in it, and the flames were lit up green. Doctor Trit came in. “How do you feel?” 13—Connor glanced at her then looked away. “Fine. A little nauseous. Is that normal?” Trit walked to the fire pit, shifting the poker around. “Perfectly. Hold out your hand.” Dread pooled in Batman’s stomach. Connor looked nervous, but did as he was told.

Trit pulled the fire poker out, kryptonite attached to the end. Its end was slightly red and orange, cracks running along it. She turned and placed it in Connor’s open palm.

Connor shrieked and screamed, trying to pull his hand away. Trit held him still. Connor struggled, tears running down his face, begging her to stop, to help, to take it away. Trit made him hold it for twenty seconds before pulling it back. When she did they saw Connor’s hand, the flesh bubbly and red with blood, blisters forming. Connor cried, and the video ended. The static returned, but it was quiet. Almost in respect.

"Jesus christ," Flash muttered, and Batman was a little worried about the way Wonder Women was looking at the scientists. "We were just doing our jobs!" Trit cried weakly, "We didn't want to but we had to!" 'SHUT UP' The text said, and the scientists began to yelp and wither. 'There is a fine line between experimenting on a subject and torturing them.'

'What you did to us stepped several feet over that line. What you did to us spat in the face of workplace ethics and our human rights.' Trit suddenly shrieked, and Sal began convulsing. 'We're never going to forget or forgive what you did to us. He will never feel truly safe, truly happy as long as your alive.' Sal began foming at the mouth, whimpering. Trit was muttering 'make it stop' over and over again, and Lilva was writing something on the table. It looked to be a will.

"He's melting their minds," Martian Manhunter gasped, "That—that is not a metaphor. He's quite literally reducing their brain matter to mush." Flash went to the scientists side and tried to keep Sal still while Green Lanturn began copying what Lilva was writing. Her handwriting was getting worse and worse. Wonder Women went to Trit's side as she began to sob and stutter, attempting to speak. It was all incoherent.

'I don't want to hurt people.' The screen said, 'I don't even enjoy hurting them, no matter how much they hurt me. But this isn't about me, it's about Connor. It's about ensuring Connors safety. It's about making sure Luthor gets a clear cut message; hurt him, and see what happens. Try to hurt us and I'll destroy him and everything he cares about. Fuck around and find out.'

"We can help keep you safe," Batman said as Sals twitching slowed, "Both you and Connor. You don’t have to kill them." Lilva wasn't writing so much as scribling, and Trit was still crying. Her eyes were bloodshot. 'I do, Batman. They installed both of us with a kill switch. Only two ways to trip it; either insert a key into the incubators were were created in, or enter a code on the computer in Luthors office.'

Batman felt his heart drop. 'The key and the incubators have been delt with, the computer and any copy of the software destroyed. Only one person had the code. The lead researcher. And he shared the code with two other people. I have to keep my brother safe, Batman. We're all we have. I'm sorry.'

The room was much more quite now; Trit was dead, Sal was unconscious, and Lilva mumbling incoherently. 'I want to live the rest of my life by your code, Batman, and I'll try my best to do so. But please, please understand that I had to do this. Not just for revenge, but for our safety. Martain Manhunter would’ve never found the code in their minds; he's not as invasive as I am. They would’ve left and immediately killed us. Thats why Sal wanted to get out of their as quick as possible.'

'Maybe one day, when the dust has settled and Conner feels safe we can talk face to face; really talk, y’know? I'd like to do that. But I don't know when the right time for that talk will be.' It was quiet as the rest of the League read the message. The humming was fading. Batman felt his heart jump when his pocket buzzed. It was his phone.

It was a new contacct thats number kept changing. It was named 'Danny'. The text read, 'but in the meantime, I'm down for some small talk.'