Hunting for some coochie

Wrote a G up on his belt

No subscription. Just program.

On your computer. You got to use it forever and ever and never had to worry about it going away.

Because it was physically on your computer. As a program. That you actually owned. Not because you got it separately, but because it was a standard inclusion with your computer.

I'm sorry but I'll just never get over it. I remember when companies cared about their products being usable out of the box. I remember when our things belonged to us.

pairing: victor stone (cyborg) x reader summary: he likes you a bit more than you give him credit for and a mission gone wrong gives you an opportunity to understand what he doesn’t say. wc: 1.9k+ genre: tw: blood, worry, some softness, small amount of angst, misunderstandings that lead to great convos, really fast slow burn

It worked for you, his silence. Well, not initially. 

Initially, it was a suffocating feeling, as if he didn’t like you or that he only tolerated your presence. You thought that his laconic speech and lack of introductory warmth previewed what the rest of your relationship would be like.

Just ships passing in the night, noticing each other every once and a while, but still continuing on your way.

And in the beginning, that’s kind of what seeing him was like.

“Hey, Victor.” You greeted, hearing his mechanical step before you actually fixed your gaze on him.

He nodded. “Hi, (name).”

That was the extent of that conversation.

You’d walk into the kitchen at Bruce’s mansion and he’d tip his head in your direction before going back to his business. Most of the time, you’d nod in return, and other times, you’d spice it up with a small smile or a cough. 

Victor was very different from Barry’s mile a minute speech or how jumpy he could be. Diana even had her moments of brief conversation but she was always warm and open, always inquiring if you needed anything.

Victor always seemed just out of reach, intentionally isolating. It felt cold, not fully human. It wasn’t because he was similar to an android, but like a weight sat on him, sapping away his humanity.

Even Bruce, the Bat himself, would say hello from time to time and check on you. 

Most of the time, missions ran pretty smoothly with Batman when you ran back up, both of you communicating just enough to give each other warnings. Sometimes a witty comment would come from your end, but he’d get you back in check pretty easily.

Someone had to keep things interesting when Aquaman wasn’t around. Arthur had to worry about “running the kingdom,” whatever that meant.

This was supposed to be a pretty easy mission, but the bullet wound in your side said otherwise.

You were late to the rendezvous point and by the time you’d actually gotten somewhere safe, Bruce had to evacuate to prevent additional damages to structures nearby. Your coms were down for longer than you’d planned so you hadn’t been able to get a message out.

Bleeding heavily due to the intensive moving required to fight your way out of the thug compound, you stumbled into the rain, collapsing on the sidewalk. The dark of the night hugged you, tucking you into the shadows while the rust color of your blood mixed with the water of the rain.

Rainwater soaked through your black suit, clinging to your knees as you dragged yourself into a limp. The cold of the water droplets from the sky sizzles against the heat radiating from your skin.

It burns slowly, starting to spread through your torso. It’s the adrenaline wearing off and when it does, it’s going to be painful.

Victor Stone x Reader

Midnight Snack

Summary: You’re the newest member of the Justice League, and Cyborg knows what it feels like to not exactly blend in.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 867

You couldn’t sleep. At all. You had tried, but for the third night in a row, you weren’t able to drift off. It made sense. You had been living in the Hall of Justice for about a week now. New environment, new people…you were just adjusting, was all.

So, instead of laying up all night staring at your ceiling as you had done the previous nights, you were gonna make some cookies. Baking and creating in general always helped you balance everything that was going on in your head. Usually you knitted, but you just needed to get your hands dirty. Yarn wasn’t going to fix this problem.

You got out of bed and snuck down to the kitchen, not wanting to wake any of the others. You got out the ingredients and your recipe book that you had brought because you hardly went anywhere without it. It had been handed down through the generations of your family, and it contained all of the recipes and spells your family deemed worthy to pass down.

Spells as in the magic kind. You were the resident spellcaster of the Justice League.

But your book had cookie recipes and stuff too. Because priorities.

You started a batch of no-bakes because they were sort of easy and then once those were on the counter cooling, you started mixing together chocolate chip cookie dough. It was then that you felt a presence in the doorway. You looked up to find your new robotic friend.

His entire body was made out of metal aside from about two thirds of his face. You had heard about his accident. He had gone to your school, but you doubted he knew you existed back then.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked.

You nodded. “You too?”

“I don’t sleep.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded awkwardly as you added chocolate chips into the dough and animated the spoon to do the stirring for you. Victor’s human eye tracked it around a few times before refocusing on you.

“So what’s up?”

“New environment, I guess.” You shrugged. “New people, new place, new room…new kitchen…”

“I remember you, you know.” His voice was quiet. He took a few steps further into the kitchen and settled on a stool at the island. “From high school.”

“Didn’t know you knew I existed back then, to be honest.” You chuckled and shook your head. “Back when I wore so much eyeliner I looked like the Winter Soldier and lipstick as dark as my soul.”

“Everyone knew who you were.”

“Because they thought I was a witch.” You smirked and flicked your wrist causing the spoon to stop. “Well, they weren’t wrong.”

Victor chuckled at that.

“Figured I’d make enough cookies for the team, but then I remembered that Barry eats everything he can get his hands on and you…don’t eat. So…”

“I don’t think it’s enough for Speedy.”

“Yeah…” You laughed. “I can just double my recipe.” You held up a hand, glowing purple wisps rising from your fist. You flicked magic over the bowl of dough and then it duplicated on the counter.

“So…how long have you known you were…” Victor searched for the right word. “What is it Bruce calls us? Gifted?”

“Since I was eleven and my Hogwarts letter came in the mail.” You quipped. “Kidding. When I was like fourteen I found out. It…wasn’t pretty.” You started scooping spoonfuls of cookie dough onto the baking pan. “But, magic isn’t always pretty. As I’ve learned.”

“You seem to have a pretty good lid on it.”

“I didn’t always.” You shook your head, eyes fixated on the wooden spoon Victor picked up as he helped fill a second tray. “Thank you.”

“Not like I have anything better to do.” You could have sworn you caught a smile on his face.

About an hour later, you and Victor were seated on the couch while you taste-tested the cookies. The sun was starting to come up, so you hadn’t missed out on too much sleep. The two of you spent the wee hours talking about everything that had brought you to where you were.

“Until Diana found me, I was content being on my own, but…I’m really glad she forced me to connect.”

“I didn’t force you to do anything,” The Wonder Woman herself walked into the room and perched on the armrest of the couch nearest to you. She was wearing the warm maternal smile you often found her wearing. “Good morning, (Y/N). How did you sleep?”

“I think I’m going to get a lot more of it from now on,” You took a long sip of coffee from your mug and Diana plucked a cookie off of the table. She smiled at the taste.

“Did you make these?”

“Grandma’s recipe.”

“They’re delicious.”

“Thank you.”

“Do I smell cookies?!” Barry had zipped in front of you with an expectant look on his face. You nodded and motioned to the plate.

“There’s more in the oven, Speedy. Help yourself.” Victor pointed back towards the kitchen as Barry raced away with the plate. “Told you we’d need more.”