Broken Machinery
Pt. 2 (completed series)
Series Masterlist
Connor RK800 x fem!reader
A/N: I swear they all get some personality in the next part. Consider the first two chapters ‘world-building’
Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), dead opossum (sorry), Hank’s emotional constipation
Word Count: 3.3k
Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.
“Lieutenant Anderson hasn’t arrived yet, but you can wait at his desk.”
FIND LIEUTENANT ANDERSON’S DESK
Connor examined a wall dedicated to honoring past police officers, before heading towards the back of the police station. A PM700 directed him towards a cluster of three desks. One was positioned horizontally in front of tow others, forming an upside down T. The one to the right was extremely cluttered, you occupied the left. You were writing something down, posture hunched over in a position Connor suspected would leave you with pain later today.
He made his way over to you. “Detective Y/L/N,” you jumped when you heard his voice. On the right of his vision a note reminded him:
MAKE PRESENCE KNOWN
It seemed that you would be startled no matter what warning he gave you. He made the conclusion that behavior like that would prove to be a hazard later. Officers needed to be alert at all times.
You clutched your chest in alarm, “Connor. Sorry, I didn’t see you walk up, and you can just call me Y/N.”
“Do you know when Lieutenant Anderson will arrive?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “If we’re lucky we’ll see him before noon.” There was a hostile tone in your voice, there often was when you spoke of, or to Lieutenant Anderson. He’d have to look into that later, if you two didn’t see eye-to-eye it could compromise the mission.
EXPLORE NEW OFFICE
You looked away from your report as you noticed Connor moving towards Andersons desk. He picked up the headphones lying on the desk and moved them towards his ear.
You could hear the music blaring from where you were sat across from him and had to hold back a smile at the way Connor flinched away from the sounds.
He moved towards the phone on the desk, “Call Hank Anderson.”
“Good luck,” Connor glanced at you but ultimately ignored you as he left a message for Hank.
“This is Connor,” he then added for clarification, “the android sent by CyberLife.”
“I don’t think he knows any other androids, Con, or people.” Again, ignored.
Brat.
“It’s almost noon and I’m waiting for you at the office.” He turned towards you and finally acknowledged your existence once he’d hung up. “Do you dislike Lieutenant Anderson?”
The question shouldn’t have caught you off guard, considering you and Hank don’t exactly hide the hostility. Still, an android calling you out for being a bitch stung a bit.
“It’s not really that,” you paused trying to come up with a way to describe your complicated relationship with Hank. “Simple, it’s not as simple as just disliking him, Connor. We’ve got a lot of history and a lot of complicated feelings surrounding that history.”
He took a seat at the other desk now. Hands in his lap and head tilted like a puppy. He fiddled with his cuff links and examined you, you felt uncomfortable, like he was stripping you bare with those plastic eyes of his. “You were romantically involved with the Lieutenant?”
The coffee you were drinking splashed all over the file in front of you as you choked on it. “What the hell Connor? No! Hank and I were not together.” The thought made you gag. “Why would me saying it’s complicated make you think we dated? There’s so many other explanations?!”
“I apologize if I offended you, Y/N. Police officers are often in high stress, life and death situations. Sometimes partners grow close romantically through those extreme bonds. I just came to the conclusion that perhaps you and Hank were once like that.”
You shook your head vigorously, shaking off the mental image of you and Hank. “Well you’re wrong. And it’s too early to get into this with you.” Connor nodded before getting up from the chair and moving towards the break room.
You saw Gavin go in there earlier and immediately followed behind Connor, hackles already raised.
EXPLORE NEW OFFICE
Speaking with Y/N wasn’t helping Connor with learning more about Hank. From his analysis of her behavior, she didn’t seem to mind androids. She referred to them in gendered pronouns instead of as objects. His relationship with her was lower priority. Her usage of nicknames for Connor led him to the conclusion that she already held an acceptable level of affection for him that would positively affect their working relationship.
Connor entered the break room and scanned the people inside. Detective Gavin Reed and Officer Gina Lee.
“Our friend, the plastic detective, is back in town. Congratulations on last night, very impressive!” The tone was clearly not genuine. You walked into the room silently and began making yourself coffee.
“Hello, detective.”
“I’ve never seen an android like you before. What model are you?”
“RK800, I’m a prototype.”
“A prototype,” he turned towards the officer Lee, “Android detective… So machines are gonna replace us all… is that it?” He pushed Connor back slightly, “Hey, bring me a coffee dipshit.” Connor could hear you slam a cabinet door behind him.
You laughed when he said, “I’m sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson.” Gavin almost walked away before turning back around and punching Connor in the middle. That was when you stepped in. You pushed Gavin away from Connors kneeled form and got between the two.
“Make your own coffee dick.”
“You better watch yourself, after last night the captain’s not gonna be too happy if you start another fight.” Connor logged that information away for a later time. Right now he was trying to recover from the blow to a major biocomponent.
“You drew your weapon first Gavin, but go ahead bring that to the attention of the captain.” Gavin scoffed and pushed you back, Connor was finally standing again and stabilized you with a hand to the back.
“What’s your problem, Y/L/N? What would you rather fuck an android than me?” Both you and the detectives cortisol and adrenaline were reaching concerning levels.
“Gavin, get this through your thick fucking skull: I’d rather be fucked gently with a chainsaw than go on a date with you, let alone fuck you.” That seemed to push the detective over the edge, his hand was rising as if to strike you. You just shoved him back and walked out of the break room, “Connor let’s go.” The tone brokered no room for argument. Connor followed behind you and ignored Gavin’s insults that he shot at the both of you as you walked away.
Connor had planned on exploring more but a new objective had popped up.
FOLLOW Y/N
Odd, he’d have to get that checked out. He was only meant to follow Lieutenant Anderson’s orders.
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^
Hank was at the desk when you made your way back. Your hands were shaking in anger from the interaction with Gavin. The sight of Hank pouting like a petulant child wasn’t helping your temper at all.
“I get the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant.” This was not going to go well and you really didn’t want to witness another temper tantrum this morning. You tried to get Connors attention, shaking your head and mouthing the word stop. He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. “I’d like you to know I’m very sorry about that.”
Hank’s a grown man, he shouldn’t need to have his pride catered to because he was acting like a baby. “Now that we’re partners it would be great to get to know each other better.” Connor’s eager smile was slowly starting to falter and you really wanted to throttle Hank.
Something about Connor made you want to protect him. He was like those little kids with the glasses that made their eyes huge, you wanted to stop anyone that tried to bully him.
Stupid, considering he’s an android and doesn’t actually give a shit about Hank or his feelings, he just wants to complete his mission. “Connor?” He looked at you, the smile back. “Why don’t you get settled at your desk. You can work at this one, since it’s so close to both of us. Deviant files are already on your terminal.”
Connor sat down and you relaxed slightly. Hoping this was the end of the one sided conversation. You should have known better. “Do you like Knights of The Black Death? I really like that music… it’s full of energy.”
That shocked the both of you. You knew he didn’t actually listen to it, he’d just been snooping around Hanks desk, it still was strange to hear an android say he enjoys heavy metal. Seems Hank thought the same, “You listen to heavy metal?”
“Well I don’t really listen to music as such, but I’d like to.” Hank shot you a glare as you struggled not to laugh at his disgruntled face.
“You have a dog, right?”
Hank’s voice got lower and he hunched further into himself, “How do you know that?”
You scoffed, “Jesus Hank, he’s not stalking you. You’ve got dog hair all over.” Hank looked down and frowned at the sight of Sumo’s hair covering his jacket.
“I like dogs.” That was it, you were going to melt. You didn’t care if the feelings were fake or if this was some AI manipulation to gain trust. That was adorable. “What’s your dogs name?”
“What’s it to you-”
“Sumo.” You interrupted Hank before he could act like even more of a jackass. “Sweetest dog ever.” Connor gave you a cordial smile before turning back to Hank.
“I was wondering, do you always arrive at the office at this time?”
“Nope, Connor, no, stooooop,” your whispered warnings weren’t convincing enough to stop his onslaught of questions. You’d noticed Hank had started to relax slightly, but he doesn’t take kindly to people questioning him on his work habits. Or any criticism at all.
“I arrive when I arrive. Now stop busting my balls, okay?” And then he made his final mistake. The basketball game.
“You’re a Detroit Gears fan, right? Denton Carter scored 53% of his shots from the three-point line yesterday. Did you see the game?”
“That’s what I was watching at the bar last night.”
Connors dejected little oh made you glare at Hank. He raised his hands up and glared right back. “Be nice.” Hank waved you off and went back to staring at his terminal.
“What’s your dog's name, Y/N?”
You tilted your head in confusion. “I don’t have one.”
Connor frowned, “There’s dog hair on your jeans.” You looked down and he was right. You hadn’t even noticed this morning, you were in such a rush. Probably should have picked some jeans from the clean pile.
“I volunteer at the dog shelter on weekends, I guess I forgot to wash these. You have a favorite type of dog, Connor?”
“Saint Bernards,” now you know he was just sucking up. Especially with the not so discreet side eye he sent Hank.
“What a coincidence, that’s what Hank’s dog is,” Hank sent you a look that said to keep him out of this conversation. He’d clearly reached his limit for ‘polite’ conversation. “Find anything useful in those reports?”
“An AX400 is reported to have assaulted a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation.” Connor got out of his chair and stood in front of Hank’s desk, Hank who turned his back to him like a child. You were quickly reaching your own limit of how many man-baby’s you could deal with this morning.
“I understand you’re facing personal issues, Lieutenant. But, you need to move past them-” You could perfectly pin-point the moment you knew Connor had fucked up.
“Hey! Don’t talk to me like you know me. I’m not your friend and I don’t need your advice, okay?”
Just as you were going to intervene, Connor did something you should not find attractive but really, really did. He placed his hand on Hank's back and leaned into him. Maybe if you started being a bitch to him he'd get mad at you too.
The thought made you disturbingly excited.
You only checked back into reality when you saw Hank slam Connor against the wall. “Enough! Hank, back off, that’s enough.” He’d been so willing to defend him last night. What had changed? You were both stuck in a pissing match until Chris walked up with information on the AX400.
You straightened Connor’s tie for him and sent him an apologetic smile before grabbing your jacket and following after Hank.
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^
“We’ve got officers sweeping the neighborhood, in case anyone saw anything.”
Hank sounded as doubtful as you felt when he said, “Okay. Well let me know if they turn anything up.” Connor was just standing in front of the car. Back so straight it made your own ache at the thought of your poor posture.
You walked over to him and it was almost like he was waking up as he addressed you. “It took the first bus that came along… and stayed to the end of the line.”
“Based on her piece of work owner, I’m assuming everything she did was unplanned and out of fear. The android has already been damaged and repaired more times than most. I’m guessing we’ve got another Carlos Ortiz situation on our hands.”
Hank interrupted you with a scoff, “Only one problem, androids don’t feel fear.” You frowned at him.
Connor, however, was quick to back you up. “Deviants do. They get overwhelmed by their emotions and make irrational decisions.”
An idea popped into your head as he spoke. “Then we should approach this similarly to how we would a human. She’s scared, has no money, no plan. She wouldn’t have gone far.”
You examine the area. Abandoned house, desolate parking lot and a motel. “She doesn’t have any money for the hotel, I doubt she’d want to sleep in a broken down car. We should check out the abandoned house.” Connor followed you, Hank somewhat farther behind.
Connor shouted out a quick, “Anybody home?” He looks at the fence surrounding the house and points to something you can’t see. “Blue blood, another android was here.” You nudged Hank none too gently in the ribs.
“Not too bad, huh?”
“For an android.”
You glared at him, “Grumpy old bastard.” You climbed the fence and Connor offered you a hand to help you down. “Thank you.” He led the way towards the back of the house. He glanced through a hole in one of the boarded up windows.
“Android,” he whispered. You were quick to withdraw your weapon. The HK400 from last night had killed itself this morning, Chris had informed you. Slammed its head against the wall until it shut down.
You could never be too careful.
You gave Connor the go ahead to keep moving.
You stopped him when you reached a door. “I’ll handle this.” You entered the house, gun out, and scanned the area. A damaged android was standing in the middle of the room. You slowly lowered your gun and motioned Connor forward when he made no move to attack.
You were still cautious as Connor questioned the android.
“Have you seen any other androids in the area?”
“Ralph seen nobody.”
Something wasn’t right in this house. Call it intuition or the fact that something was seriously disturbed about this deviant, you knew he was lying. You moved slowly behind Connor, trying not to startle Ralph and looked around the room. Was that a-
What the fuck? A burnt opossum, that’s not ever a good sign for someone’s sanity, deviant or not. “That’s Ralph’s blood.” You glanced back over your shoulder at the android. Those wounds weren’t new.
And this table was set for three. Was someone else with the runaway android? A fire was burning, you motioned Connor over and pointed at the fireplace.
“Do androids need heat?” He shook his head and frowned.
“I believe it's lying to us.” You both chanced a look at Ralph but he didn’t seem to be listening.
“I think you might be right.”
“I found the same message from the wall on Carlos Ortiz’s house in another room in here. As well as rA9 scratched into the walls.”
“And the HK400 didn’t give you any helpful information about that?” Connor tilted his head and his eyes scanned your face.
“Were you not paying attention to the interview?”
Heat flooded your face at the question and you could feel it spreading down your neck. “I was … distracted,” by wanting you to handcuff me and talk to me like a-
NOPE! NO!
Boundaries, Y/N, professional boundaries.
He frowned at your admission, “No, he didn’t give me any valuable information. Just the vague admission that it would set me free.” Connor moved away from you, if you didn’t know better you would think that he was annoyed you weren’t paying attention last night. You felt guilt pool in your stomach at the thought that you missed Connors ‘big moment.’
Weapon still in hand you made your way to the stairs, Connor following. Ralph was quick to deny anyone was upstairs, too quick. But Connor shook his head at your doubt, “He’s telling the truth.”
You holstered your gun and moved towards the bottom of the stairs. Movement caught your eye behind a bookshelf. Just as you leaned towards it Ralph yanked you back. Hands under your arms and uncontrolled android strength squeezing the life out of your ribs. “Run, Kara, go!” The bookshelf flew back and two shapes ran out. You were struggling with Ralph too much to realize she had a little girl with her.
Connor rushed over and yanked Ralph’s arms off your waist just as Hank appeared in the doorway. “It’s here, call it in!”
You pushed Connors hands off of you, “Hurry, go after her!” You were still catching your breath when you felt Hank's heavy hand on your back. “I’m fine, let’s go!” He seemed hesitant before following after you. You managed to just barely follow the blur that Connor was forming in the rain.
You were embarrassingly out of breath when you caught up to him, Hank in a similar state of distress. “Shit!” Before you, there was a chain link fence, a busy highway on the other side. You could see the android climbing over the barrier that blocked off traffic, “Fuck, is that a kid?” She was pulling a little girl behind her as they ran into the middle of the busy road.
The cars were going by so fast you couldn’t even make out the colors. The android had a tight hold on the little girl’s arm as she tugged them in between cars, barely missing being hit.
“That’s insane!”
You nodded along at what Hank said, anxiety filling you at the sight of the girl. “She’s gonna get her killed. Jesus!” You wanted to look away as you heard the little girl screaming and the AX400 nearly get its leg taken off by a car going too fast to stop.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Your head shot back to Connor, Hank’s hand was pulling him down as he attempted to climb the fence.
“I can’t let them get away!”
“They won’t, they’re never gonna make it Connor.” Connor shook both yours and the Lieutenants hands off of him.
“I can’t take that chance!” You pulled in Connor again, “Jesus Connor, enough!”
“Hey, you will get yourself killed!” You were shocked at Hank’s reluctance to let Connor go, if anything you would think he’d be more than eager to let Connor get run over. “Do not go after them Connor, that’s an order!” Hank then looked at you and shoved an accusing finger in your face, “And you keep your ass on this side of the fence!”
You shoved his hand out of your face, of course you knew you shouldn’t cross the highway. It was idiotic and you’d most likely distract both the android and the little girl and they’d both end up roadkill. Still, it was hard to just let them go and not try and help at all.
“Oh thank god.” They’d made it across, while it was shocking, at the very least you didn’t have to see a little girl get splattered across the pavement.
Connor seemed almost angry as he walked away from you and Hank.
“That could have been really bad, Hank.” You winced as you took in a painful inhale. Your ribs were most likely just bruised, not cracked, but it still hurt like a bitch.
He nods and gives Connor a strange look. He wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you back to the car. “Yeah, I know.”
end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
Your writing is so amazing 🫶🫶Thank you for what you do ml, I hope you’re taking care of yourself
You guys are so sweet! Thank you for the kind message. It's funny you sent this while I'm on like day seven of a stomach bug and thought I was going to die this morning.
Hope you're taking care of yourself. Messages like these make me so happy to be sharing my writing with you all 💗
HELLO???? WHY AM I JUST NOW FINDING THESE 😭😭😭
When I tell you that I am FERAL for your writing, I'm not even kidding. I am DROOLING all over the angst you've written. (especially the logan ones, but watch me zoom and read the ones you've written for others as well 🤤)
Like I cannot PHYSICALLY tell you how much I love that stomach churning, heart crushing shit. Rip my wounds open and make them bleed fr fr 🥹🥹🥹
(Seriously tho, you're an incredible writer. Can't wait to read more of your stuff ❤️)
Oh my god stop, I'm blushing and freaking out. Thank you so much!! I'm glad you're enjoying my writing and if you do a deep dive into my other works, prepare yourself lol. I'm really not good at writing nothing but fluff, so there's always some angst in everything I write (oops)
It means so much to me when readers tell me that they physically felt pain while reading my writing. My favorite thing is when an author can concoct something that actually makes my chest ache, so this means so much to me 💗
I just want to say how talented you are and how much I have loved your work! I literally binge-read all of your Wolverine works and I am obsessed! They have been works that I read where I can really connect to the character and I just wanted to thank you and say how amazing you are doing! I can’t wait to read what you post next!
I'm so glad you enjoy them so much. And hearing you can connect to the character means so much to me! I'm hoping to post again soon, I know I've been pretty MIA on my blog but its because I'm working on writing my own book. I'm struggling to balance work/personal writing/gym time/and fanfiction writing. It doesn't seem like a lot but I'm the worst at multitasking lol.
I'm hoping to have answered a few asks for wolverine within the next two weeks + some RDR2 stuff.
Thank you so much for enjoying my blog ❤️❤️❤️
Teaser for the next chapter of The End of the Beginning:
Your eyes are locked, something old and familiar swimming in both of them. You used to be ashamed of this feeling he brought up in you. He was a married man after all and you were just his lying assistant. You were never supposed to be attracted to him. You’re certainly not supposed to be attracted to him when he looks like this. But despite how much he’s changed, he’s still got that Cooper Howard charm. He doesn’t drag you forward roughly. He guides you further into him, tilting your chin up and leering down at you with that angry grin. His hand glides around the back of your neck- The head drops to the ground with a wet thud as your hands fly to the rope on your neck. He’s grabbed the back of it, tightening it so hard you’re sure you felt your eyes pop out. The smile on his face is gone, instead it’s replaced by an intensely concentrated look. His eyes are boring into your own, taking in every twitch and gasp as he watches you struggle for breath. You dig at your neck, feeling warm wet blood bubble under your nails the more you rip at the rope. Your fingers go cold and your tongue swells as the pressure in your face increases until you think the skin will burst. The eye contact doesn’t break between you, darkly intimate as he takes in every detail of your slow death by his hand.
</3
And if I said I was writing for Bodyguard!Logan and Congressman's daughter!reader, what then?
I did it here
I think I’ve got something interesting for DBH in the works. Would anyone be interested in Connor RK800 x fem!android rebel reader?
How About a Nuke?
Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII
Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.
“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried.
“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen.
“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”
God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you.
Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway.
Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”
“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph.
Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk.
“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”
“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”
“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”
“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”
You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over.
Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern.
“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”
You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.”
He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should.
When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage.
He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth.
“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled.
“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken.
You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass.
He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest.
You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds.
“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”
Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled.
“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means.
“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach.
You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with.
He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”
He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”
You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast.
“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again.
“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up.
“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl.
“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”
“Cooper,” you whisper.
“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”
Oh shit.
Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks.
You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem.
You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself.
“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous.
You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies.
The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose.
What the fuck?
He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t.
“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder.
Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.
She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy.
He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now.
He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands.
His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign.
“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs.
He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible.
He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it.
You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face.
Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table.
You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough.
He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”
“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.
“Everything alright?”
You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake.
You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better, but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him.
Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now.
He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?”
“I was just wondering what that means for us?”
He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that.
“That was a mistake,” you muttered.
“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach.
You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse.
“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway.
“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again.
She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man.
Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul.
He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her.
Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.
He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.
“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”
Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”
“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip.
He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up.
She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”
He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside.
“Please-”
“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room.
“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on.
He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought.
“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open.
“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.
Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her.
“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms.
He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it.
Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower.
She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further.
He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this.
She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”
He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”
There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”
“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”
She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room.
He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. “Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”
He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”
He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”
She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”
They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in.
They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before.
He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out.
He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him.
“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed.
“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”
He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again.
That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane.
Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot.
She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”
“Relax, we’re at the compound.”
She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted.
He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward.
“What’s wrong with you now?”
“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face.
“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games.
“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”
He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”
“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”
He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again.
Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?
No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore.
He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”
She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”
“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now.
He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did.
She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention.
Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”
She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty.
She’ll be better off here.
He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”
She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass.
He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be.
end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
I think How About A Nuke might be the best Cooper story I’ve read. It’s so well written and you capture the Cooper and the world so well. It all feels so in character and realistic to the world.
And the angst!!! Like the contrast between him taking care of her in the past vs the future. And how to him this is the person that disappeared on him at the lowest point of his life and they’re meeting again after 200 years of him losing all humanity but he still can’t let her go. Meanwhile she’s been in love with him for years and has never been sure if she’s just a rebound or an infatuation or something more genuine. And now he’s suddenly a really mean zombie. Obsessed with this dynamic.
I gotta say I didn’t think that the past to present flashbacks idea would go over well but I’m really glad you guys are enjoying it!!
Writing pre bomb Cooper is honestly so fun because I can finally take a break from writing him as a dick lol
I love how well you understand their relationship, I’m trying to make it clear that at this point he’s still not entirely capable of love, he’s got a possessive claim over her but he’s not nearly developed enough to entertain the idea of being in love with her again
Apparently in Wolverine 8# 2011 (you can see the page in google images) his sexual fantasies looks like a BDSM room and we know our boi likes a lil pain.
ITS CANON 😭
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
a/n: inspired by the fact that Hugh Jackman thought wolverines were just a type of wolf and no one corrected him. Rusty because I haven’t written smut in a while so you guys aren’t allowed to talk any shit. Plus, I’m too much of a wimp to be like extremely explicit, but these prompts ( one, two, three) together were too good to pass up.
SMUT 18+ (my slight monsterfucker tendencies might shine through in this one)
Summary: Logan's told you a million times not to take the path through the woods. You never listen, of course. Now there's a monster on your tail and you're all alone. (part of my Halloween Palooza)
You never should have taken this path. You knew it was going to happen, Logan had warned you, and you still didn’t listen. Now, you’re in the middle of the woods, completely turned around and on the verge of tears. God, why do you never listen?
You put your groceries down and pull out your phone. Through the thick spread of leaves, you get minimal moonlight. You’re surrounded by shifting shadows and rustling undergrowth. Everywhere you turn is a monster waiting to leap out at you.
When you were little you were petrified of the dark. You hated the shapes you saw lurking within it. You’d outgrown that as an adult, but now, you can barely breathe as your eyes dart all around. The childish fear is returned with a vengeance and you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack.
You flip open your phone, squatting on the ground and trying to conserve your body's warmth. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees since you left the house. Of course, Logan had told you to bring a jacket too. Did you listen? No.
You were only going out to get some chips and dip, you really didn’t think it would take so long. But then you’d got caught up talking to one of your friends and before you knew it, it was pitch black outside. You should have just called Logan at the store, asked him for a ride. Now, you’re staring down at the flickering screen of your flip phone and about to sob as you see the bars disappearing.
“No fucking service, of course,” you hiss and shove the phone back in your pocket. The battery’s nearly dead anyway. You doubt it would have lasted long enough for a phone call. You run a stressed hand over your face, trying to calm your breathing down.
You’re trying to trick yourself into thinking that everything’s okay. That the shadows are just shadows and you’re scared. Then you hear it.
It’s a low noise, something out of your worst nightmares. There’s an immediate spike of adrenaline as an inhuman growl echoes through the night air. You swear you can feel it inside your chest. It rumbles through the animal, bursts through clenched fangs, and makes the hair on your neck stand on end.
You glance over your shoulder, mouth parted in a silent scream. You don’t see anything, you can’t. You just barely make out the branches shifting nearby before you’re leaping to your feet. You almost call out, see whose there, but that feels like the last move every bimbo makes in a horror movie.
So, you do something arguably worse. You abandon your groceries and purse and bolt. Immediately you can hear its pounding footsteps chasing after you. You do scream now, there’s no point in swallowing it down. It’s like the terror is ripping through you, making you stumble over every branch and rock in your path.
You know it's faster than you. You can hear how easily its keeping up its stride behind you. This feels like a game to it. It's just teasing you, dangling freedom in front of its prey before it closes its drooling maw around your neck.
You trip over an enlarged root and go flying forward. Rocks scrape across your arm and you let out a short shriek of pain. The flesh tears easily on the sharp points and the metallic scent of your blood fills the air. It comes to a sudden stop a few feet away from you. There are no thoughts in your head besides the voice screaming at you to RUN!
It tells you to keep running. If you stop it will catch you and it will kill you. This is no longer a product of your imagination. This is real and it is hungry for you. You scramble to your feet, boots slipping along the muddy forest floor. You dig your fingers into the earth, feel the dirt slide under your nails, and launch yourself forward. You nearly flip your feet over your head but you manage to keep yourself steady.
You can’t hear the steps behind you. The beat of your heart pounds through your head, drives you forward, and discombobulates you all the same. Blood rushes so quickly beneath your skin that you can feel your vessels swelling with the warmth of your terror-fueled adrenaline.
You’ve never felt so inferior before, like a rabbit desperately trying to escape the hungry jaws of a wolf. Your legs are moving faster than they ever have, you’re bounding, racing, leaping through the forest. You move through it like you were born in it, anything to escape whatever was following you.
You no longer remember the way home or what home is. You can only focus on right now. You don’t notice the dark shape running alongside you, or how easily it keeps pace. Not until it’s barreling into your side and you go slamming into the ground again. Your head nearly bounces against a rock but something slides underneath it, stopping the impact at the last second.
Something rough grips at your face. You’re still blind, blood rushing so hard beneath your skin, you’re practically blind with panic. You bite down, taste flesh, and hold on until blood rushes into your mouth. The metallic tang of it is like poison against your tongue but you don’t let go.
“Release!” He orders you like a dog. His voice is so thick with anger and hunger that you barely recognize it. But something clicks in your head and you unlock your jaw from his palm. “The fuck have I told you about taking this path?” Again, his voice is so thick with volatile rage that you barely register it.
“Sorry,” you sob out, shoving at his chest and scrambling to sit up. But he keeps you pinned to the ground, one hand clamped tightly around your neck and the other pushing down against your stomach. You can feel something hard against your thigh but you pay it no mind, still struggling to catch your breath.
You take in deep, heaving, gasps of air and the moon shifts overhead. It gives you just enough light to see Logan clearly now. You nearly choke at the sight of his face. His lips are peeled back, sharpened points of teeth causing blood to bead along his lower lips. His beard seems scruffier than normal and there’s a golden glow to his eyes.
“What the fuck?” You stutter out, glaring up at him. You’ve seen him angry before. But you’ve never seen him quite so animalistic. “Logan?” You whisper his name hesitantly and it only makes him look more pissed off. You shrink back, though there’s not far to go with him holding you like this.
His hips shift down and you bite down on your lip so a pathetic whimper doesn’t escape you. His head tilts curiously, gaze raking over your heaving chest and then down to the too-short shorts you’d put on earlier.
He gives you a look of astonished disbelief, “You fuckin’ kidding me?”
The hand on your stomach drifts down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes widen when you realize what he’s trying to do. “Logan, wait-” Too late. He rips the shorts down your legs and his eyes widen. The sneer of his lips finally melts away as he sees the clear wet spot in the middle of your underwear.
You don’t even get a chance to defend yourself before he’s gripping your hips and flipping you over. Your hands struggle for purchase on the slippery rock in front of you. You try and glance back at him, but he buries a hand in your hair, tugging harshly, and forcing your face forward.
“Logan, please,” you whine, thoroughly humiliated as he sits behind you, silently examining your battered form. You’d tripped more than you thought while you’d been running from him. The adrenaline has just barely waned enough for you to feel the bruises forming. But he has no sympathy for your plight, if anything your tears seem to egg him on.
“What have I told you about taking this path?” You bite your tongue, a sudden refusal to answer raging forth. He’s got you half-naked on your hands and knees after chasing you through the woods. You shouldn’t have to be scolded like an imbecile on top of that.
He leans over you, the weight of his body pushing forward, your arms strain to keep you both up. You grit your teeth, still keeping your mouth clamped shut. He chuckles, the noise so low you feel it rattling through you rather than hear it. “I could hear you.”
His hand drifts down your bicep, wraps around your front, and rests over your breasts. “Could hear how fast your heart was beating. It’s still about to come out of your chest.” You suck in a sharp breath, keeping yourself from arching into his touch.
His nose lingers against the side of your head, dipping towards your neck and inhaling deeply. Your face wrinkles in confusion as he practically smells you. “I can smell how terrified you were.” His hand suddenly jerks your head back and you can’t help but yelp. There’s a smirk on his lips as he finally gets a noise from you.
You can feel the desire practically dripping down your thighs at this point. All you can think about is how powerful he is. How hungry he is for you. You want him to devour you, completely wreck you.
He releases you and without his support, you slump forward, neck bowing awkwardly. You try and right yourself but one of his hands grips your neck so tight you can feel the blood rushing up into your face. He pins you there and the only warning you have of what he’s about to do is the sound of his belt buckle coming undone.
He thrusts into you and your jaw drops. You inhale the dirt beneath you and it tastes remarkably like blood. He pushes your cheek further into the ground and you grunt as tiny little pebbles have their taste of your flesh.
Had you not been so wet, you doubt you would have enjoyed a second of this. But, because his chasing you down like something feral made you more aroused than you have been in months, you let out a pathetic moan beneath him. It borders on the thin line between pain and pleasure. But each rough thrust inside you blurs the line until they’re indiscernible from one another.
Your fists curl up, mud sticking in the lines of your palm as he takes you like you’re nothing more than a toy. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like how used you feel. But you relish it. Relish in how crazy you make him, to the point that he’d lose his mind and use you like this.
He’s like a fucking animal. Taking what he wants from you with no concern or care to whether you like it or not. He’s panting and grunting behind you, you don’t understand the insults spewing from his mouth because there’s blood rushing in your ears and you feel like you might pass out.
The adrenaline and residual terror from earlier are building into one explosive moment inside you. Your fingers tremble with it, your limbs burn from the volatile feeling and you can’t help the noises being forced out of you. It doesn’t take much longer for you to combust.
Pleasure rushes through you, makes you numb to the world around you. A dulled tickling feeling rushes through every part of you. Your arms go limp and he’s quick to wrap a hand around your waist, keeping you upright. He presses into your lower back, arching it until he’s hitting the spot inside you that causes aftershocks of painful pleasure.
Your core throbs as you pulse around him. Sucking him deeper until his hips come to an erratic stop and he spills inside you. You keep your forehead pressed to the cool earth beneath you. You never actually managed to catch your breath before and now it just feels like you’re five seconds away from hyperventilating.
A soothing hand runs up and down your spine, he curls around you and helps you to sit up. His voice is a low whisper, “You alright?”
You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and giving him a shaky nod. He laughs and pulls you to stand up. Your legs were limp from running earlier, now they’re practically boneless. He keeps you propped against him and pulls your shorts back up.
He buttons his jeans and straightens. His eyes narrow as he glares down at you. He cups your chin, tilting your head to examine the scratches on your cheeks and tutting at you. His fingers tighten to the point of pain and he jerks your face up to meet his eyes. “You gonna come down this path again?”
After that, yes. You completely would. He sees the look on your face and rolls his eyes. He leans down, tossing you over his shoulder and groaning. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“You like it,” you taunt, tugging at his shirt for balance.
He shakes his head but you know he’s smiling. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Same time next week?” You tease as he goes back for your groceries and purse.
“Don’t push it,” he snaps.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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