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sweetbans29 · 2 days

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Protector - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

Warnings: jealous(ish) Caitlin

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here's another one for you!

one. fall.

You have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to go rollerblading. It has been years since you put them on but you begged Caitlin all day saying it would be a fun little outing.

You were completely wrong. It wasn't even 5 minutes in when you fell and got a pretty nasty scrap on your knee.

It takes a few seconds before you feel like you can stand and when you do you wince then sit back down.

Caitlin is looking at our scrap with furrowed eyebrows as she examines what the best course of action would be.

"We should get you home to clean that up, I don't want it to get infected," Caitlin says as her eyes are still glued to your knee.

"No, we just started. I want to keep going," you combat and try to stand again.

Once you are on your feet, you realize you can barely move your leg. You try to hide the pain you are in from your girlfriend but have a hard time hiding anything when you begin to put any sort of pressure on your left leg.

"Okay that is it," Caitlin says as she turns around and hoists you up on her back. She leave both of your rollerblades where you fell and is now carrying you back to your apartment in her socks.

"Cait! I am fine!" You say frustrated that your cute date has been cut short.

"You are not fine." She mumbles as she marches back. "I am going to inspect it after I disinfect it and we will see if I need to take you to urgent care to get it stitched."

"Babe, chill - I am okay." You say, then realize it is a mistake.

Her head whips around as she comes to a complete stop. You can only see her profile but you know she is giving you her death stare.

You learned early on in your relationship how protective Caitlin can be. At first, you thought it was normal but then one of her teammates pointed out how whenever you are in any sort of compromising situation - both physical or mental, Caitlin is right there watching over you. It is always endearing, but could also be too much at times.

You kiss her shoulder and you feel her relax.

The two of you make your way into your apartment. She places you on the kitchen counter as she makes her way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

While she is gone, you attempt to stand up, putting most of your weight on your hands as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Once you are down on your right foot, you slowly shift your weight to your left and feel pain shoot to your knee. You hiss and begin to lose your balance, trying to grab onto the counter.

Before you know it you feel yourself going down. You mentally brace for your second impact on the ground today but it never comes.

Cait has made her way back to you and has caught you mid-fall, effortlessly lifting you back up and sitting you back down on the counter.

"Do not do that again," is all she says as she opens the first aid kit.

You listen and feel bad for trying to get down on your own. You know Caitlin is doing everything in her power to care for you and you are doing everything you can to do it yourself.

Caitlin takes her time as she disinfects the wound, her hands are the most gentle they have ever been. She is locked in on ensuring she does a thorough job and you do everything in your power to not flinch away from her touch.

You can begin to see steam come out to Caitlin's ears as she is working so intricately on your wound. You bring your hand to brush down the left side of her head.

"I'm sorry I forced you to go rollerblading." You say looking at her. "And I am sorry I fell and that you have to take care of me." This is the best you can do to say Caitlin was right about the whole rollerblading idea.

She looks up at you for the first time since last scolding you for moving.

"You don't need to apologize, babe. I know you didn't do this on purpose." She says as she kisses your right knee. You give her a half smile as she places a bandage on your knee. She stands and you pull her in between your legs and wrap your arms around her for a hug.

She wraps her arms around you and lets out a sigh. The second she does, you know it has been one she has been holding in for a while now.

You rub her back knowing the stress you have caused her this afternoon. Her body relaxes into yours and you can't imagine having anyone else take care of you the way Cait does.

two. handsy.

It’s the Hawkeyes first game in March Madness and you could not be more excited.

Typically you attend games with your friends or sit with Caitlin's family but in this game, Caitlin was able to score you a courtside seat which you gladly accepted.

You get to the game and get escorted to your seat. You chose a simple outfit that consisted of black jeans, some black pumps, and of course your girl’s jersey.

As you sit down you notice the seats around you are empty, you know they will fill up right before tipoff.

You watch the girls come out and begin their warm-ups. You see Caitlin looks around the court until her eyes land on you. Giving her a little wave, she smiles and gives a wave back. Typically you don't drag Cait's attention away from the game but being so close and seeing her look for you, you couldn't help it.

As they are announcing the teams, the people next to you show up. You don't pay them much attention as they begin to announce the Hawkeyes, cheering on Caitlin as she makes her way onto the floor.

The game begins and you are locked into watching Caitlin dominate the court.

You are pulled away from the game when you feel a tap on your thigh. Looking away from the game for a second, you turn to the girl sitting next to you.

She points down to the ground where her lipgloss has rolled by your foot. You pick it up and hand it to her with a smile then turn your attention back to the court.

The first time out is called and you are able to sit back in your chair and breathe for a minute. Watching Caitlin always has your elbows on your knees, holding your breath, with your eyes on her. So any time they call a time-out or the quarter ends you are able to sit back and release the tension your body holds.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted you from the game," the girl next to you says.

You giver her a smile, "Oh you are good!"

"I'm Sarah," she extends her hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

The game begins again and you assume your position. You cheer on the team as they put in work to stay ahead of the other team. You are on the edge of your seat and don't realize these are folding seats as you push it back slightly, losing your balance.

Just as you are about to fall you feel arms come around you as Sarah has effortlessly caught you and saved you from making a fool of yourself. You are in an awkward squat for .5 seconds as she scoots your chair back to support you. As you sit, your hand comes to her lower thigh as you mumble a thank you, still embarrassed.

"Hey you're good babe, I won't let you fall," she says with a beaming smile. You give her a small smile and nod, thanking her.

Your attention goes back to your girl who you notice has eyes on you. She is staring directly at you, eyes going between you and the girl sitting next to you. Sending you girl a nod, you lock back into the game.

It isn't long after that the half is announced and the girl next to you starts making conversation with you. You don't want to be rude and enter into the light conversation. She stops what she is saying then takes her finger and removes a hair that got caught on your lip. Her finger comes and brushes your cheek and you feel like this is going a little too far.

"Sarah, you seem like a really nice girl but I'm in a relationship." You say.

"Oh my gosh, I promise I am not hitting on you!" She says and introduces you to the girl next to her who's her wife.

A blush instantly makes its way to your face as you feel the fullness of the embarrassment that has overtaken your body. Sarah then puts her arm around you and gives you a side hug as you hide your face in your hands.

Little did you know that Caitlin had seen the whole interaction and had quite frankly had enough of whatever was happening on the sidelines.

Taking only a few giant strides, she is now in front of you.

"Cait!" You yell surprised she has abandoned her post before the fourth quarter.

She is looking right at Sarah, eyes burning into the girl next to you.

"I'm going to need you to remove your arm from my girl and keep your hands to yourself." She says as she removes her arm from you, setting Sarah's hand on her lap and patting it.

"Caitlin," you try getting her attention to let her know the newfound fact that Sarah is indeed not hitting on you.

Caitlin just goes on to tell Sarah that you are happily in a relationship and that she doesn't need the distraction of someone hitting on her girlfriend every 5 minutes.

You get fed up, standing and grabbing Caitlin's face.

"Sarah is married and you are the only one for me!" You yell at her so she can hear you over the crowd. She freezes and now it is her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.

You place a little kiss on her nose and release her, turning her shoulders back to the court and pushing her towards Gabby who checks in with Cait. Caitlin brushes her off as she can't shake the smile on her face.

Your nose kisses are her favorite.

three. work.

Caitlin is currently sitting in the rolling chair right next to yours, tossing up a lacrosse ball as she waits for you to finish up some admin work.

Your staff decided to do its first ever 'bring your spouse into work day'. You thought it was silly considering your company is literally a team of rugby players but caved in when you told Caitlin about it and she was completely on board.

Caitlin and you weren't married yet but had been dating since high school. The two of you talked about marriage quite frequently but wanted to wait until after college to figure it all out. You both knew it was coming but just a matter of when.

"I am almost done here and then we will head out to the field," you say finishing up one of your reports. Caitlin nods, which is unseen to you but you know she is content. Between her practices, games, your work, and school - any time the two of you got together was gold.

You finish up and the two of you head out to the field. You work as a part of the sports medicine team for a local rugby team. It was perfect because it's what you are studying in school and will look good when on your resume. Your goal is to go into the WNBA with Caitlin's team wherever she is drafted.

During the practice, it is a lot of retaping and making sure all the players have what they need. Caitlin watches in awe as these giant guys come up to her girl needing her help with something. You aren't the tallest person to begin with but seeing these full-grown men come up to you makes Caitlin so proud.

Once practice is done - you and Cait go back to your office knowing the fun has just begun. Caitlin takes a seat back in the rolling chair as you grab a pile of towels and make sure your massage table is out and prepped.

Aside from taping, one of your main jobs was massaging out the guys at the end of practice and/or games if needed.

Caitlin knows what you do - you talk about frequently when your job is ever brought up in conversation. She knows what you do firsthand as you have spent countless hours rubbing out knots that she has built up from her own sport. But she was not ready for what she was about to witness.

The first player comes in and you and he joke around as he gets set on the table. By the sounds of it, he is in here after every practice.

He sets himself on his side and hikes up his shorts on his right leg as he twists to the all too familiar position. You place a towel on his upper thigh and glut. As you begin to work out his glut he starts groaning in pain.

You laugh as you continue to work him out. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, trying to get any sort of pressure released as your elbow assaults his knot. Caitlin's eyes are on the player's hand that is clutching your shoulder now.

You ease up and nudge his hand off, making a joke that he is making you uncomfortable. Caitlin released the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The thing is - Caitlin is beyond secure in your relationship. She has no doubts that you are hers and only hers but seeing this guy wither under your touch has a fire burning within her. At this moment, it provided no comfort to Caitlin knowing how good your massages are.

Caitlin sits there with her arms crossed as you finish working with the guy. The guy thanks you and heads out as you have a little break.

"I don't know if I like this," Caitlin says, arms still crossed as she is leaning back in her chair.

You shoot her a smile and make your way to her.

"You know best what these hands can do," you say with a shrug and a little smirk. Her eyes widen, not expecting that response from you as the next guy walks in. You lean over and kiss her on the head as you greet the next player.

The next player is similar except you are working out the back of his calves and thighs. He keeps moaning and groaning which you laugh at. Caitlin knows the sounds the guy is making are due to the pain he is in but she can’t help but feel jealousy rise within her.

Again, she knows this is your job and she knows that she is the one you come home to every night but it is wild to her that these guys are squirming at your touch.

This player is feeling so much pain that he reaches back and grabs the back of your thigh just to hold onto something and Caitlin can see him squeeze it.

She leans over and grabs the guy's hand, removing it from your leg.

“Okay that’s enough,” Caitlin says putting her hand on your thigh where she just removed his.

The player apologizes and you give Cait a questioning look.

She doesn’t say anything to you but lets you finish the massage. The player grips the table until you are finished and thanks you upon leaving.

“What was that about babe?” You ask putting everything away.

“There is no reason for them to touch you - especially the way the second guy was. It’s inappropriate,” she says.

“It’s a reflex, it means nothing. And trust me, I always have them remove it.” You say walking up to her.

You stand in between her legs as her hands come up to find the back of your thighs. She looks up at you for a second then her head falls to your stomach. Your hands come to her head and soothe her hair over.

“Your hands are the only ones I want on my body babe.” You say in a sweet tone.

“They better be,” she says giving your legs a squeeze as she pulls you in and hugs your middle.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this lil cute one. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #22

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 2 days

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How do you feel about writing more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler? After watching X Men 97, I forgot how charismatic this elf man can be. If possible, I need an introverted reader with barely any social skills who starts to malfunction whenever a certain blue is around. When confronted, reader is basically 'you're too pretty' and almost dies of embarrassment.

Social System Error

Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1.9K A/N: I changed it a little bit to fit the scenario, but I hope it's still up to your expectations :)

You wished that the ground would swallow you up. Who knows, maybe you would find a mutant who could grant you that wish, as long as you looked hard enough. Clasping your hands to your face, you felt your cheeks grow hot and slid down the door of the room before sitting on the floor.

Why couldn't you be normal for once? Talk to him normally for once, make small talk and say goodbye elegantly? But you weren't allowed to do that. Instead, you had to run into the next door just because Kurt waved at you and gave you one of his most charming laughs. Instead, you spilled your coffee all over the table just because he entered the room. I

nstead, you couldn't get a word out when he came your way, you just turned around on the spot. It was horrible.

The fact that you had developed a crush on the blue mutant was really no secret and the fact that he hadn't noticed was a real miracle. Or maybe he had found out and just decided not to do anything. You didn't know which option was worse.

So far, you had really done your best to avoid him as much as possible so that he wouldn't think of talking to you, but you could always at least catch a glimpse of the blue mutant out of the corner of your eye. You just couldn't help it, Kurt was wonderful. He was funny, charming, polite, intelligent and incredibly attractive. One look at his face with a beaming smile was enough to make your legs go weak.

And today you had really blown it.

Rogue had finally managed to convince her brother to stay at the school and he had decided to teach some of the classes. You were both thrilled and devastated at the prospect of seeing this wonderful man every day, and probably embarrassing yourself every day after you'd already ogled him more than once.

However, when you had entered the staff room at lunchtime and seen Kurt sitting next to Ro on the sofa in his shirt, suit trousers and loose tie, you had immediately stormed out of the room with a bright red face and gone to the staff bathroom, where no one had been at the time. In hindsight, you really should have locked that door.

You energetically threw another handful of cold water onto your face and rubbed your cheeks several times to be on the safe side, hoping to drive out the redness. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," you mumbled and leaned against the edge of the sink, head bent forward. "How am I supposed to survive this. God, I bet Rogue recommended these clothes to him. Lord help me."

Nervously, you began to pace up and down, ruffling your hair. "Why does he have to look so good? Can't he be ... normal attractive? Not inhumanly, divinely attractive?" You'd embarrass yourself, really embarrass yourself, and he'd never talk to you again. Or worse, think you're pathetic and talk to you out of pity.

You came to a halt in front of the mirror again and looked at your reflection. "No, no." You couldn't bear the thought. "Okay." You exhaled and leaned against the edge of the sink again. "It can't be that difficult. Just be normal. Or whatever," you mumbled. "Just be cool. Kurt's just another teacher, he probably doesn't even know you exist. You just go up to him and start a conversation, that's all."

You exhaled. "You can do this, take it easy." You looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and put on your most believable smile. "'Hi Kurt, how ya doing?' No, no, that's too casual." You paused for a moment and thought. "'Good afternoon, Mr. Wagner, how are you today?' Oh God, far too formal."

You wipe your face in frustration. "Come on, it's just a conversation, nothing more. You can talk to students all day. What's the difference? Apart from the fact that Kurt is a lot more attractive and wonderful and that you have a crush?" You gave a somewhat exasperated and forced laugh. "Nothing more than that. Gambit would laugh at you if he saw you like that." Your fingers drummed on the porcelain of the basin.

"'Hi Kurt, I just wanted to take a minute to say that I really admire you and think you're wonderful and funny and...um I've seen you around here quite a bit and..." Groaning, you threw your hands up in the air. "God, I sound like a crazy person! Or a stalker! Or both! This is way too much too soon. Just... keep it casual. 'Hey, you're Kurt, aren't you? I'm glad you've decided to stay with us'."

You nod and run your fingers through your hair again. "That works, doesn't it? It's not too casual but not too formal and I don't sound like a crazy stalker who's way too obsessed with a stranger. Okay, good, you can do it. Just relax and stay cool. Who knows, maybe he won't even notice you and you won't have to talk-“ As you turn around mid-motion, you freeze in place, your heart skipping a beat. "-with him," you added meekly, your eyes widening in panic as you realize who’s been silently listening to your pep talk. Across from you, leaning against one of the toilet stalls, is Kurt, his arms crossed in front of his chest and an amused smile playing on his lips. His tail whips lightly through the air, as he slowly releases his arms from their twist.

You had to admit that your next move wasn't particularly brave. All the self-confidence you had been trying to build up over the last five minutes had disappeared and you did what was the only logical thing to do: you dashed past Kurt out of the bathroom, sprinting down the corridor, feeling incredibly grateful that you didn't have any more lessons today, meaning that you could hide in your room in the hope that you would never have to face him again.

Just the thought of it made your face flush with shame and you threw yourself onto your bed to release frustrated screams into your pillow. You weren't quite sure how long you'd been lying there, but a knock on your door brought you out of your racing thoughts. You didn't really feel the need to talk right now, but you heaved yourself out of bed anyway when there was a second knock.

You were pretty sure you must look horrible, clothes and hair out of place from the bed, but usually only Gambit or Jean came by and both had seen you in some worse circumstances. Sighing, you opened the door. "Listen, I'm not-" You broke off mid-sentence, looking up wide-eyed at the person in front of you, who was definitely not Gambit or Jean.

"Hello, am I interrupting?" Kurt looked down at you, his lips curled into a sweet smile and your heart instantly beat in your throat as the heat rose in your cheeks. You could only shake your head, causing Kurt to smile even wider. "Wonderful." He stepped slightly towards you, leaning against your doorframe, and you were pretty sure you were going to explode instantly.

"Can I...I help you?" Your voice was barely audible and shaky and you tried your best to avoid eye contact, but it was so incredibly difficult. Kurt's eyes were bright and shining and so attractive that she found it hard to look anywhere else.

"Indeed yes." His smile became more mischievous and you were pretty sure your legs wouldn't be able to hold you up for much longer, they were so weak. "I saw you storming out of the staffroom earlier and I was worried. What if you're ill? Or something is wrong? So I thought I should follow you to make sure you were okay."

It was pure torture. You wanted to sink into the ground, get struck by lightning, anything just to avoid having to have this conversation. Kurt, however, seemed quite determined to do so.

"But when I got to the bathroom, something was revealed to me that I could never have guessed." Ashamed, you turned away, your hands over your face. "I'm so incredibly sorry Kurt, I really am... I'm so unbelievably embarrassed right now. Please, forget I said that."

He raised an eyebrow and looked slightly amused. "You called me wonderful and funny. That's a little hard to forget." You groaned. "God, kill me."

"Ah, ah, ah, let's not start with that," he admonished, raising a finger. His smile softened and he gently stroked a finger over your hand, which was still covering your face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with it. Even if I don't quite understand why." At that moment, you decided that it couldn't get much worse and that if you were going to be embarrassed, you could at least get it all out at once. That way you would have limited the most embarrassing moment of your life to a few hours and not a period of weeks or months.

"Because I like you and you're incredibly attractive and perfect, but I'm not brave enough to tell you that and so I become a walking mess around you every time and I'm only telling you this so I can get it over with and you only have to reject me once and not twice."

You had spoken quickly and quietly and were pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to understand you, however he seemed to do so as he stepped towards you and slowly stroked your cheek again, this time more tenderly and with a sugary sweet smile on his face.

"Actually, that hadn't quite been the plan, my dear," he murmurs, a gentle lilt to his voice. His tail emerges from behind him, swaying lightly as if adding to the suspense. With widening eyes, you realize he's holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped with it.

Perplexed yet touched by his gesture, you accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals under your fingertips. His smile broadens, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?"

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and excitement. "What?" you stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected invitation. He chuckled lightly, tapping your chin, which had dropped in astonishment.

"I'm asking you out," he repeated with a playful grin. You were at a loss for words, your mind racing as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. When you finally managed to utter a "yes," your voice came out as no more than a soft squeak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Kurt smiled contentedly, took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. I'll pick you up." With a wink and a slight bounce in his step, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, bouquet in hand, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

As the realization sunk in, you hurriedly set the bouquet down on your table and dashed down the corridor to Gambit's room.

You had a date with Kurt Wagner, and the sudden rush of excitement left you with one pressing question: What on earth were you going to wear?

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #x men #xmen #x men 97 #xmen 97

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ravenna-reid · 2 days

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Your Demons Know Mine

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Canon typical violence and revisiting some of Jason's trauma

It was safe to say you and Jason got off to a rocky start. Even after all these months of fighting and investigating together, the two of you get along as well as oil and water.

It all began when Batman had interrupted you one night during patrol. The conversation wasn't really a welcome to Gotham and the vigilante life, nor was it a complete interrogation. But over time, he ended up warming up to you. A little. If that's what you could call it. And you got the idea that he wanted you to join him and his 'team.'

Initially, you were confused beyond hell as to why he came to you. But Huntress told you it was probably because Batman didn't like anything he couldn't control or at least keep an eye on in Gotham.

You gave a nod, turning over everything she'd told you about the Dark Knight in your head. "Interesting."

So working with the Bats here and there wasn't so bad, as long as you followed one very important rule. Amongst others. Obviously, you couldn't try and discover anyones secret identity or jeopardise their safety, but more importantly, you were never to take a life. You considered this, then agreed to his terms.

"No murder, got it." He didn't seem completely convinced, but you weren't about to piss off Batman. And so you began helping out the other 'bats.'

Nightwing, the Robins, Orphan, you name it.

And that's when you met the 6 foot something tank of a man that was Red Hood. Tall, intimidating and pretty aloof, the two of you soon clashed.

He was aggressive and rather impulsive at times, and you couldn't understand why he had to make such a mess during patrol. He made it pretty obvious that he didn't enjoy your covert tactics, never giving you the chance to prove your trustworthiness as a partner, which really pissed you off. One day he made a quip about how cunning you were. You scoffed.

"Sorry, let me just go grab a page from your book and buy a semi-automatic."

He gave a humourless laugh before turning to face you.

"What should I do first?" You mocked, hand on chin in thought, "Shoot up a building or just bash the criminals with it?"

Then he was only inches before you, figure looming over yours as he peered down. "Should I be sly like you? At least I don't pull the wool over people's eyes."

The tension was thick. Real. Suffocating. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could imagine the glare behind that insufferable red helmet.

The worst part was, even though you've never seen his face, you just knew he was handsome. He was probably drop dead gorgeous the asshole. Tall, sculpted, there have even been times when you caught him slipping that helmet back on, catching glimpses of his dark hair. And he was awfully protective of everyone, especially the innocent. But he was still a brash asshole.

This continued on, and it was soon pretty obvious to the rest how you two viewed each other. And you were sure the Bats were pulling your leg, because now you were on a mission with Red Hood.

"Are you kidding me." You murmured to yourself. But you nodded along and took in everything Oracle told you guys. Luckily you wouldn't be completely alone with him, given Nightwing would be in the area.

He gave you a nudge before whispering, "Maybe this will help you two to finally get along."

No comment from you.

Once the meeting was finished, you waved goodbye to Red Robin, Nightwing and Orphan and sauntered out of the cave. Hood lifted his leg over his motorbike before watching you head towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" He asked, already sounding like he was done with your shit.

"I have a license Red. Meet you there." Then you disappeared into the darkness before an engine roared to life. A single headlight lit up the entrance to the Batcave, and he was a little surprised to see you on your own motorbike. His gaze brushed over your usual braid as it fell down your back. Then you turned and rode off into the distance.

You took off down the backroads and short cuts before you made it to the location Oracle sent you.

A secret lab.

A secret lab the company you work for owned.

For the past few weeks, you'd been picking up the suspicious activity occurring at work between those higher up and began investigating. They were trying to create something illegal. Sell it to big time criminals for a chunk of money. It was some sort of chemical warfare plan and you had to act on it fast. So you were kind relieved to find Batman was onto it now, since you would most defiantly found out what's going on tonight.

Hacking into the system once again, you were able to find tip of the ice berg information, such as the guards time table. There were only two guards on tonight at this odd warehouse, so your plan was simple.

You'd set up your little tear gas traps in front of the breaker box. Once you cut the electricity, they'd head to the box to figure out what the problem was, and then you'd attack.

You couldn't believe how well the plan was working. Thank the Lord you decided to become a Chemist and knew what chemicals to mix and use.

The guard triggered the small bomb, releasing tear gas into the air that began to eat away at his eyes. Quickly slipping your hands into the pouches attached to the side of your belt, you manoeuvred your hands into your chloroform gloves before rushing behind him. With the burning sensation in his eyes, your legs restricting his arm movement and chloroform soaked gloves over his nose and mouth, he was out in seconds.

You slipped away from him and began down the hall towards where the second guard was until you heard a whack. There were sounds of struggles, grunts and heavy thuds. You froze and pressed yourself against the wall, a confused frown on your face. "What on Earth?"

Someone hit the ground hard.

"Scumbag." A voice bellowed.

You immediately rolled your eyes. Turning the corner, you were met with Red Hood with his bloody hands and the guard knocked out on the floor. He took you in; your dripping gloves and that bewildered look in your eyes.

"Sorry princess, was this too much for you?" He asked, gesturing to the guards crumpled form.

"Let's just get on with it." You snapped back, removing your gloves and tossing them back into their pouches. You eyed the guns strapped to his thighs, thankful he hadn't used them...yet.

"You handled the other guard?" He asked, falling into step behind you.

"Mhm. Hence the gloves."

"Right, your little poisons and what not."

You soon came to the door of the lab room Oracle needed you guys to break into. Using the information you'd found whilst investigating, you lifted your goggles from your eyes and went through various passcodes.

You were curious as to what you'd find in there. Jason was curious about how you knew what pins to sift through, watching you from behind as your fingers danced along the key pad. "You only get three attempts you know."

"I know." Third times a charm, because the door suddenly gave a hiss before slowly opening.

You both entered the cold, dark room, but not before something grabbed your arm and pulled you in. You turned on your heel only to find Red right behind you. His hold was a lot softer than you thought it would be. "What are you-"

"How did you know the pins? Oracle didn't even have that information?"

He tried to focus. He really did. But your mask only covered the bottom half of your face, and with your goggles sitting on your forehead, those eyes of yours were sending him into a coma.

"Because I'm familiar with this company." You spat back, a little taken aback. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"Like hell I trust you."

At the mere mention of it, Jason felt something heavy in his stomach. Why did that statement effect him? Why didn't he like saying it?

"You're with them, aren't you?" He asked, voice low as he desperately ignored the guilt that began to stir deep down. Because the paranoia was just as strong.

"What?"

"You must know what they're doing. What, are you tryna lure us in?"

"Get the fuck outta here Red. You can't be serious-"

Before you could finish what you're saying, something flashed behind him. A figure. A crow bar.

"Red, move!" Using all your strength, you gripped onto his arms and tried to shove him out the way before the crow bar swung, the end of it just hitting your arm.

You let out a pained yell and quickly tumble away from the attacker, hand gripped around your aching forearm.

Jason didn't hesitate, instantly lunging towards the figure. Ignoring the pain in your arm you got into your fighting stance before someone else caught your eye. Someone to your side. Another man covered in black launched towards you, sword in hand.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you ducked out of the way. Swiftly, you slipped under one of the tables and came out on the other side. Draws surrounded you and you quickly yanked one open. It was filled with bottles of half used chemicals and jars filled with...alkali metals. Your eyes practically lit up when you saw them. You grabbed the potassium jar, and just as he made his way around the lab table, you turned the tap of the sink on and chucked the plethora of metals inside it. Next thing you knew, an explosion as loud as thunder went off, smoke decorating the air as he ran straight into it.

Your ears began to ring and a coughing attack creeped up on you, but you could only imagine how he was feeling. Slipping your knuckle busters over your fingers, you began to throw hits. It's not really your forte though, so once he was on his knees, you pulled the cloth from one of your pouches and wrapped it around his head, holding it there with all your strength. He went out like a light.

As you disregarded his body, you turned to see Jason was now fighting two men. You caught him quickly looking over at you before realising his guns were somehow tossed across the room during the fight. Now he was relying heavily on his fists, and that might have been even scarier. He was quick and concise, strong with his hits, and it was obvious he wasn't holding back. The second man went down hard, his face bloody and bruised. The first attacker, however, was swinging that crow bar like his life depended on it. And suddenly you noticed the Hood falter. You quickly raced to Red Hood's side.

Already mixed with such sickening anxiety and adrenaline from the use of the crow bar against him, that panic suddenly grew ten fold once he realised you were coming to help him.

"No!" His voice was laced with desperation, completely foreign to the Red Hood you knew. His large arm came up and suddenly pushed you back. And as he did so, the curved end of the crow bar collided with the side of his helmet. The force broke it, separating the bright red so that you could see one of his eyes and half of his domino mask.

Jason was stunned. He was back in that warehouse with the clown.

"I'm gonna beat you until you're unrecognisable."

Those words sent a shiver down Jason's spine. Why, when he was so much taller than the man, was he suddenly feeling so small?

You saw Red's eye, and the fear that flashed across it. You couldn't understand what it was that was getting under his skin, but it hit you hard in the chest. Because you knew that look all too well.

Eager with determination, you slipped your daggers into your hands and got ready to take out this asshole, when suddenly Hood tackled him to the ground. But it wasn't Red's usual tactic or fighting style. No...this was animalistic. In seconds, Jason had the man pinned to the ground and the crow bar in his hand.

You hadn't realised Nightwing was yelling in your ear, that he could hear what was happening through the comms. Shit, you completely blanked out.

"Hood? [Vigilante name]? What's going on??" Nightwing urged.

But you couldn't respond, because Red Hood was now beating the life out of the man before you. It was violent. Confronting. Harrowing. You knew he was violent, weren't we all? But not like this...

This was the product of something deeper. Something horrible imbedded into Red Hood.

"Red..." Your voice was too quiet, travelling right over his head. But each blow was becoming worse as Jason got lost in his thoughts and fears. Got lost in the past. So this time you yelled out.

"Red Hood! That's enough!"

He kept going though. It wasn't until the harrowing echo of a gunshot ringing through the room that he stopped. Jason snapped his head over his shoulder to look back at you. You stood there, grimace evident on your face even with your mask on, with one of his guns in your hold and aimed at the ceiling.

"That's enough! We gotta go!"

A deer in headlights. Jason stared back at you, the one eye you could see glassy and absent. You lowered the hand gripping onto that awful weapon he treasured so much. You never touched a gun, and you hoped you'd never have to touch one again.

Creeping towards him, you surely, gingerly slipped the crow bar out of his hold. He flinched, his muscles tensing as he watched you. Nerves ran through your body as you slowed down your movements. You tossed the crow bar to the side before crouching down to his eyes level.

A part of you felt sickly relatable to him. Like you were staring at an older version of yourself.

"Come on," you urged. "I know where the files are. Let me grab them and we can go."

Jason slowly came to again, giving a nod in response. You left to search for the folder and Jason's eyes trailed down to the man beneath him, his breath slow and laboured. So many emotions were coursing through Jason. Rage, hate, fear. He looked over to you as he got to his feet, thankful that you were here. But also resentful that you were. That you had to see that side of him.

Nightwing and the others talked through the comms, evidently worried about you and Red, and Jason could only imagine the shit show he'd have to face when he got back to the Batcave.

You quickly walked back to him, thick folder in hand.

"Alright, let's go Red." Your heart was still pounding in your ears as you rushed past him. But he didn't follow. You turned to look back at him; a man so vicious and large, and yet all you saw was someone who was broken. "Red, what's wrong?"

His deadset stare was back, the mask was back up, but his voice was soft. "You hate using guns..."

part two ya'll? lmk in the comments <3

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd angst #red hood angst #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #angst #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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mysteryshoptls · 3 days

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NRC Master Chef Finale

"There is no end to the culinary road"

I don't normally take requests for chapters from events, but I liked the descriptions of the students that I was planning on doing this outtro anyway. Please enjoy.

[Kitchen]

Head Chef: Right. That finishes up the prep work we need for tomorrow.

Crowley: Good evening!

Head Chef: Oh hello, Headmage. What can I do for you so late at night?

Crowley: Well, currently the Master Chef course is ongoing, is it not?

Crowley: I thought I would ask how the students taking the class are faring.

Head Chef: The students? Hmm, well…

[shows Silver, Deuce, Ruggie, Epel, and Jack]

Head Chef: Some do the best they can, even if they had a hard time learning.

[shows Ace, Idia, Leona]

Head Chef: Some are coachable, since they try to find ways to make it easier on themselves.

[shows Trey, Jamil, Floyd]

Head Chef: Some already have highly impressive cooking skills.

[shows Malleus, Cater, Vil, Ortho]

Head Chef: Some are still unaccustomed to cooking, but have a certain spark.

[shows Kalim, Lilia, Jade]

Head Chef: Some go beyond what the recipe says and creates their own spin on the dish.

[shows Riddle, Rook, Sebek, Azul]

Head Chef: Some read into every last detail of the recipe to reproduce it as faithfully as they possibly can.

Head Chef: …There are many different types of students, just off the top of my head.

Crowley: I see…

Crowley: Well, in truth, I have received many complaints from the students and professors that we've had as judges saying things like, "This isn't edible at all!"

Crowley: I was wonder what could possibly be going on… But it seems as though this course brings forward very individualistic personalities.

Crowley: Ah, that being said, of course we've also received compliments as well!

Crowley: I especially find that we don't receive as many complaints in the latter half of the course. Perhaps it shows how much the students have improved.

Crowley: And of course, all of this is thanks to our splendid chefs.

Head Chef: No, not at all.

Head Chef: It's thanks to the hard work of the students who have been taking this Master Chef course that everyone else is happy.

Crowley: Is that right! Fufufu, well, I should have expected such excellence from those attending this academy.

Crowley: I'm sure this means that the students who took this Master Chef course all came to understand just how important food is.

Crowley: One day, when they've become great mages, there can be no doubt that they will look back on this course and be eternally grateful.

Crowley: Please keep up the good work for tomorrow as well.

Head Chef: Of course! We'll make sure that everyone at Night Raven College knows just how fun and worthwhile cooking can be.

Crowley: ...Sooo… By the way, I'm feeling a little peckish, would there be anything that I could have as a midnight snack…?

Head Chef: Is that the real reason you came down to the cafeteria!? Hmph, and here I was astonished that you actually were asking me something so profound at first!

Crowley: NOT AT ALL! BUT EVEN IF IT WERE, IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT YOUR FOOD IS SO DELICIOUS!!

Head Chef: Well, I suppose, then… Heheh. Cooking can be hard work, but…

Head Chef: Whenever I can see people happily eating something I've made, it quickly revitalizes me.

[The Master Chef intro movie plays, except it is Crowley speaking]

Crowley: "Food," the very foundation of life.

Crowley: Clear oceans, majestic mountains, tender earth.

Crowley: Accept everything nature provides, and use it to nourish yourself.

Crowley: If you so will it, knowledge and valor will be bestowed upon you.

Crowley: Move forward! Never look back! The culinary road is foreboding and grueling.

Crowley: However, when you finally reach the summit, it will all be yours to claim.

Crowley: The crowning achievement―

Crowley: THE GLORIOUS TITLE OF MASTER CHEF!

Crowley: There is no end to the culinary road…

Crowley: Continue to do your best next time, as well. I'll be cheering you on!

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst crowley #twst translation #twst masterchef

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not-neverland06 · 13 hours

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How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick.

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around.

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks.

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it.

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill.

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way.

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore.

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them.

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world.

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long.

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand.

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited.

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening.

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him.

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would.

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires.

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it.

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal.

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls.

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby.

You don’t even know where they got that one from.

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots.

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them.

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is.

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table.

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap.

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist.

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed.

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other.

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.”

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb.

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches.

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground.

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from.

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her.

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose.

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own.

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?”

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die.

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop.

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them.

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares.

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair.

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face.

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.”

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge.

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink.

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper.

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face.

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t.

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly.

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help.

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face.

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement.

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground.

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can.

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it.

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it.

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again.

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him.

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here.

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it.

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end.

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him.

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?”

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her.

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her.

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down,

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief.

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him.

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it.

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part.

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit.

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane.

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer.

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him.

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt.

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable.

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips.

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again.

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable.

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him.

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.”

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth.

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice.

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned. “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you.

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least.

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing.

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?”

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home.

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels.

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard.

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you.

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words.

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity.

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now.

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass.

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside.

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly.

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn.

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store.

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot.

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you.

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming.

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do.

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life.

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him.

Or he could help you.

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve.

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other.

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him.

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him.

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap.

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go.

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on.

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together.

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different.

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed.

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be.

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once.

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns.

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit.

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same.

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover.

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely.

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have.

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more.

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him.

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again.

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it.

He’s giving in now, giving into her.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #how about a nuke?#cooper howard #the ghoul

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lucysarah-c · 2 days

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Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you… you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

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gay-dorito-dust · 21 hours

Note

Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)

Dick

He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.

Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.

He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’

Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.

So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.

‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.

‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.

He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.

Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.

You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Damian

Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.

He thinks them childish unfortunately

However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.

He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.

So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.

This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.

Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.

Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.

However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.

He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.

To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.

He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.

Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 1 day

Text

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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shaisuki · 2 days

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Hi there, Shai!!

This idea had been eating my brain for a long time soo Here we goWhat are your thoughts about jjk men who would collar (and maybe even chain) their wife up after they tried to escape / were disobeying?

I'm so sorry for wasting your time over this

I LOVE your work!

Keep it up!!

Byeeee (^-^)/

-Anon

❝𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗗𝗢 𝗜𝗧, 𝗜 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗧. ❞

featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, geto suguru

content warnings yandere themes, nonconsensual themes, chains and collars, minor pet play, ankle cuffs, electrocution, degradation, dark content, gaslighting, manipulation.

synopsis yandere jjk men who would use a chain/collar on their darling

GOJO is the least fond of it. finding the contraptions unpleasant to the eyes and it doesn't suit you. you were the esteemed wife of him and you would be treated as royalty like him. princess treatment and all but he could make exceptions when you're particularly disobedient.

a day is enough of you wearing that collar. he knows how humiliated you feel in that contraption and he did feel bad a little when he sees the tears in your eyes. clawing at the leather in such panicked state that you're already begging for him. saying you'll be good and you will never do it again and satoru believes you...

“you wouldn't do it again, my sweet wife?” he coos. cold slender fingers are wrapped around your neck. his nimble fingers unfastening the cold buckle pressing in your skin. blinking the tears away and sniffling, you nod. too eager and distressed that you were willing to do anything just to get the collar removed.

from how gojo sees it and how you were dead scared earlier. he knows you will be good and learned your lesson. it pains him that you can't even speak while you claw the collar in your neck pulling it that it left claw marks in your skin. droplets of blood making its way outside of your skin and he don't want that again to happen.

satoru froze for a second when you come latching at him after the collar was removed. he expected you to come scratching at him. screaming obscenities from how vile he was instead your soft body is molded against his lean one. “i'll be good.” you repeatedly whisper and your dear husband softens at what you have said. “i know you will.” he replies. hugging you back with such tenderness and no matter how bad he felt. it honestly feels rewarding to see you this clingy to him.

the collar wasn't that bad after all.

NANAMI is not the one you could drive with a reason. deeming that is was unsafe for you to go outside and so when the first idea came running in your mind. a second he was fast to chain you up. nothing to the extreme but ankle cuffs that send jolts of electricity the moment you step outside.

he doesn't like the cuffs in your ankles but he isn't that willing to let you go easily. escaping him means disobeying and who would want that for their spouse to do it. you're not the only who's suffering from it, he also does but tells himself that it would be the good for you and him.

nanami pulls the knot in his tie. effectively loosing the fabric and making him breathe in relief. he's finally home and he can't wait just to be with you. when he's about to turn in the living room. he hears it. the soft thump of a hard object repeatedly being smacked against a pillow and then his heart breaks at the sight.

you were frustratedly tugging at the cuffs wrapped around your ankles. silently screaming and in the verge of tears when it won't just break. punching the throw pillows in the couch as your way to vent the anger, of being chained, of not being free.

noticing nanami's presence you immediately wiped the tears pooling in your eyes and avoiding his gaze. hugging yourself and pretends nothing happened.

sighing, nanami kneels in front of you. gently putting your feet in his lap and unlocking the device that made your life miserable than it is. “better now?” he asks and you nod, not bothering to wipe the tear that trickled down your cheek. “it's for the better.” he murmurs and you remained silent. your feet still on his laps while he rubs the sore spots on where the cuffs where wrapped around you. it's a routine for him. take care of his darling wife. pamper them after leaving them for a long time and please them.

it's a small price to pay when you've given him your dues.

TOJI humiliates you like he needs the air. the chains dangling as he pulled it attached to where your collar is buckled. forcing you to look at him with a furious look in your eyes. cute. as you should be akin to a mutt that no amount of yapping could remove the cuteness. whetting the rage growing aside from desire.

“you're a bitch and you know what happen to bitches. they get punished, you ungrateful bitch.” toji scowled. the sharp lines of his body are defined than it was. eyes glimmering with anger. pulling the chains until your face is in his large hand. gripping your soft jaw so tight they might crush under his raw strength.

he got no qualms about treating you like a pet. you earned it. if you weren't such a bitch you wouldn't be collared and pulled like a toy you are. there's no explanations of it and it's the only known way of the sorcerer killer to discipline someone like you. hope you will be learning your lesson after he's done with you or you're back to the leash if you misbehave again.

GETO finds it highly degrading. it's not pleasing for his eyes to see his darling all chained up or somehow collared. punishments are served by isolating you to others or simply reprimanding you. knowing how affected you are by it and you seem behaved this days. he keeps you grounded and the mere thought of escaping are shut. you didn't even plan it.

he's a man of control and is confident in his skills that he won't let you out of his grasps and when you really wanted to be punished bad. expect he had the stuff, tucked away in a hidden corner that you won't even think he possessed. imagine you really messed up bad and you're wrists are chaffed from the materials rubbing in your skin.

the thoughts of escaping/disobeying is something you shouldn't even think of. you won't like the results.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #yandere themes #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x chubby reader #tw collar #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 3 days

Text

Day Off {Gojo Satoru}

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Trigger warning: none

Overlapping days off were the most rare thing in the world, coming right after Gojo Satoru and his powers. Somehow, the two of you got blessed with not only overlapping days off but on a Monday as well.

And Gojo wasn't one to refuse some extra hours of sleep. Especially with you by his side.

When the two of you started dating, Gojo would insist on sleeping over to your house when it came to spending the night together. He had never told you because he thought it wouldn't match well with his usual carefree stance but it was definitely due to him wanting to know if your surroundings were safe.

After the months passed and your relatioship became more serious, he would insist on you sleeping over to his... house. By all means, his apartment was located in one of the most expensive flats in Tokyo and the first time he brought you there, you had spent at least an hour refusing to even sit on his couch.

You certainly had gotten far because now you refused to leave his bed.

"Mmm good morning," you felt his arms wrapping tighter around you, bringing you closer to him.

There was something godly about Gojo and you knew he knew it. From the way his body was always the right temperature to the wa his white hair fell on his face. His morning voice was always raspy from the hours gone by without having been used and his blue eyes shone brighter than the sun. He knew he was good looking and he wasn't going to stop bragging about it.

"Come on wake up."

There was also something annoying about him. He always wanted to get his way. If he didn't? Well the consequences were...

"I am up! I am up!" You bursted out laughing, trying to avoid him to the best of your abilities. Gojo tickling you was always unavoidable whenever you didn't wake up with him. He used to let you sleep a little longer if he happened to wake up before you but only during the first two months of your relationship.

"I love you." He groaned. It didn't take him long to wrap almost his entire body around you like a human koala.

"I can see that..."

"You're supposed to say that you love me back."

"Stop whining."

During those kind of moments Gojo was vulnerable. He would let you do anything to him; pinch his cheeks, ruffle his hair, you name it and he wouldn't say no. He didn't make it hard for you to flip the two of you over with you laying on top of him.

"Go back to sleep Satoru."

"I love it when you say my name," you raised your head from his chest as soon as you heard that and the look in your eyes wasn't a happy one. "I could have added 'during sex', but I didn't. Because I always love it when you say my name."

You really wanted to pretend to be mad at him but the overall softness of him was making it extremely difficult.

"Can we go back to sleep now?"

"You won't be able to fall asleep at night and you know it," his hand found your hair, caressing it gently. He was right, it was already 11 am and the two of you were still wrapped in his satin bed sheets.

"You wouldn't let me sleep anyways."

"Your words not mine."

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojo #manga #anime #writing #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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catmiemy · 16 hours

Text

Another Chance to Live Part 2 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana has to play against her former club with your former team. You do your best to support each other and slowly become closer.

Part 1

A/N: It took me a bit longer to re-read and edit this than I thought since it made me emotional because of another transfer that I'm still in denial about 😭

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next part. I'm always happy to hear what you think or what you'd like to see in this story.

Just like you had hoped, Ana and you continued to hang out regularly. In fact you spent most of your days off together and even met up fairly often in the evenings, relaxing either at her or your apartment. More often than not you still couldn’t believe your luck that the Swiss woman actually liked being around you too.

You made sure to steer away from any deep topics though, keeping in mind that Ana preferred when you offered distractions when she seemed unhappy. It wasn’t always easy for you because you wanted to know everything about her and you longed to comfort the blonde when she looked at you with sad eyes. However you understood that she had other people, better friends, that she could talk these things over with.

On the other hand Ana with her sweet and caring nature always asked how you were doing and offered to listen to your problems the moment she picked up that something was bothering you. The desire to tell her everything was almost unbearable at times. You wanted to unload all the things weighing on your heart , well maybe not everything, you would never reveal your feelings for her, but other things like the situation at your club or with your family.

However you didn’t. You successfully kept yourself from spilling your sorrows to Ana. For one you didn’t want to burden the Swiss woman with your problems, she had enough going on without you adding to it. And also you didn’t want her to know that she was the only person you would actually feel comfortable opening up to. It was a painful reminder that Ana was so much more important to you than you were to her.

A few days before Atlético was due to play Barcelona in Madrid the two of you were hanging out again. You had cooked some food together and then settled down in front of the TV for the night. You could tell that the Swiss woman was having a hard time focusing on the show you were watching, even though she had picked it.

Ana kept sighing quietly and glancing over at you. You in turn did your best to distract her, offering up your thoughts about what you were seeing on TV. It was getting increasingly difficult not to ask the blonde what was going on.

‘She prefers a distraction. She doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not with you. What she wants from you is a distraction, so try to find some interesting or funny things to say for crying out loud!’ You reminded yourself over and over again.

You were searching your brain to find something good to say when Ana broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?” She asked timidly.

The insecurity in Ana’s voice took you by surprise, that was really unlike her. But you didn’t dwell on it; instead you quickly assured the Swiss woman that she could always ask you anything.

“Okay, so…It’s not really a question but a favor. And it’s totally fine for you to say no, don’t feel bad at all if you say no! Especially because it puts you in a bit of an awkward situation. You know what, I’m just now realizing how stupid and selfish this is and I just changed my mind.”

You reached out to place your hand on Ana’s thigh, hoping to comfort and calm the clearly agitated woman this way.

“Hey, don’t worry. Just ask me. I have no doubt that the answer will be yes,” you encouraged her.

There wasn’t a single thing you could think of that you wouldn’t do for Ana. Well maybe there were some things, most of them illegal in one way or another, but you doubted that the Swiss woman was going to ask for any of them.

Ana took a deep breath before rushing out her request, “Would you come watch our game this week? The idea of seeing all of my former teammates again really hurts and it would help me so much if I knew you were there. I understand that it’s a lot to ask because my team is your former team, so like I said…”

„Yes, of course I’ll come, it’s the least I can do,” you interrupted the Swiss woman.

Sure you weren’t too keen on going back to Atlético’s stadium and see all of your former teammates play together without you, but the simple fact that Ana asked you to come and even said it would help her, was enough to forget all about that. Who cared if it would make you a little sad? Who cared if maybe some people would come up to you and bring up the still painful transfer? You definitely didn’t, not if you had a chance to make the blonde feel better.

For some reason Ana seemed taken aback by your answer. “Wait what? It’s the least you can do? What have I ever done for you? If anything I owe you! You keep hanging out with me; you keep showing me amazing places here.”

You scrunched up your nose at the blonde’s words. It didn’t sit right with you that she made it sound like hanging out with her was a chore for you, not when it was the only thing that brought you any joy lately.

“But I love spending time with you!” You cried out, for once completely forgetting to add the obligatory ‘as a friend’.

A soft smile appeared on the Swiss woman’s face when she heard your words, as well as the indignation in your voice.

“The same is true for me,” she was quick to assure you, before focusing once again on her first question. She wouldn’t let you wriggle out of this so easily. “But seriously why do you feel like you need to pay me back in anyway? I don’t remember ever doing anything for you.”

Slight panic began pumping through your veins, as you scrambled to come up with anything better to offer up than ‘You hang out with me when you’re so much better than me and there are surely so many better people in your life that you could hang out with.’ That just wouldn’t do. It was one thing to be pathetic, but another thing to shout it from the rooftops.

“I didn’t really mean it like that. Just that I’m always happy to do anything for you,” you mumbled finally. This time you caught yourself however and quickly continued, “I love being there for my friends.”

Ana didn’t need to know that there was no one else on the planet you would do this for.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” the blonde cooed, her compliment instantly making you blush. “And I hope you know that I’m always happy to do anything you need as well.”

You nodded instinctively, not believing it for one second. Not that you doubted that Ana would be there for you in a for a friend reasonable manner, but your commitment to her went way beyond that. There was very little the blonde could ask for that you wouldn’t do for her.

Thankfully the conversation moved on to safer topics after thi and you could relax once again. At least as much as you were ever able to relax around the woman you were hopelessly in love with.

---

When you walked to your seat in Atlético’s stadium a few days later you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. With every step you took it felt like the sadness inside of you grew, taking up more and more space until it was almost impossible to breathe.

This was supposed to be your stadium. Your teammates, former teammates you reminded yourself, had often called you the Alexia Putellas or Leah Williamson of Atlético Madrid. Someone that practically bled their team’s color, born and raised there, and honestly set on dying there too.

Not that you had ever been on a level comparable to Alexia or Leah, which had become painfully obvious when Aleti just dropped you like you were a piece of trash. You hadn’t told anyone this yet, but after that conversation you had seriously considered giving up football once and for all. The thought of playing anywhere else had been ripping you apart. But in the end the idea of not playing the sport you loved at all anymore had been even harder to bear.

You thanked your lucky star that you at least made it to your seat without anyone approaching you. At this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep it together if anyone spoke to you. Maybe the people around you could read as much on your face because you could definitely hear some whispering and felt a lot of gazes resting on you, but miraculously people kept their distance.

Although it was possible you were wrong about seemingly everyone watching you. You didn’t look around to check if the stares you could feel were actually real, instead you made sure to keep your eyes carefully trained on the pitch, avoiding making eye contact with anyone, which might inadvertently give them the courage to come up to you.

So you sat there, totally rigid, every fiber of your body tense, wishing for the seconds to pass by as quickly as possible, but somehow that only made them crawl slower than a snail. Maybe you should just leave, come up with an excuse why you had to go. Was this really worth it?

You got your answer the moment Ana entered the pitch, looking around the stadium searchingly. The instant she spotted you a big smile appeared on the blonde’s face, all of the tightness leaving her body momentarily.

Yes, this was worth it. Ana was worth this and so much more.

You kept thinking of the Swiss woman’s happiness and relief at seeing you when people got bolder during half time, walking up to you to tell you that they missed you at Atlético, that it wasn’t the same without you and that they would never forgive the club for their treatment of you. Empty words since they were here supporting them right now.

Not that you wanted them to turn their backs on the team. You understood having conflicting feelings, your own probably the most complicated of them all. Being back in this stadium you played so many of your games, made you furious and sad, but it also filled you with a longing to go back and brought about a sense of worthlessness. Why hadn’t you been good enough to keep around?

Despite Ana’s best effort to act nonchalant you saw the signs of her struggles clearly, even from the relative distance of the stands. So throughout the entire game you kept watching the blonde like a hawk, as if you could help her feel better about this by some sort of telepathic connection that required a laser like focus on your end.

This way you observed how tense Ana was when her former teammates hugged her, almost reluctant to accept the loving touches because she knew she wasn’t going to see them again anytime soon after this night.

You also saw how lost the Swiss woman looked on the pitch when the game started. As if she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she was on the field with the Barça girls, but not as their teammate.

And you noticed that Ana avoided looking over to the traveling Barcelona fans until the game was finished, despite them chanting her name several times. Only once the final whistle was blown did she go over. It seemed impossible from your spot practically on the other side of the stadium, but you were sure you saw the Swiss woman holding back tears as she thanked them profusely.

You kept on watching while Ana talked with her former teammates. She smiled while chatting, but it was a smile filled with sadness. You briefly wondered if the Barça girls could see that as well. Did they even care? Even though you knew this wasn’t their fault at all, you felt an irrational anger towards them. How could they move on from Ana so quickly? They should have raised hell!

If you would have paid the Barça players any attention you would have seen the unhappiness and concern on their faces, clearly missing the Swiss woman a great deal. However your focus lay solely on the blonde.

The moment Ana disappeared into the tunnels, you also began making your way out of the stadium, keeping your head down and brushing off everyone that tried to initiate a conversation with you. They probably thought you were being rude, but you didn’t care. You were on a mission to get to Ana’s car, the agreed upon meeting point, as soon as possible.

If you would have stopped and thought about it for a second you would have realized that there was no way she would be there anytime soon. The Swiss woman still had to shower and stay around for the post match talk, so really there was no rush. Still, you hurried there as fast as you could.

And to be honest you also felt much more comfortable in the parking lot, an area off limits to the public, than in the stadium surrounded by so many curious fans. They had all been friendly and every single one that had spoken to you had stated that they were on your ‘side’, but nonetheless it was a constant reminder of your unwilling departure from your childhood club. And if it were up to you this subject would stay buried underneath heaps of pretending.

Therefore you worked hard to keep your mind away from your own dark thoughts while you waited for Ana, focusing instead on contemplating every possible emotional state the blonde could be in and how you could be a good distraction for her tonight. Because even though the two of you had to leave for your respective national teams tomorrow you had decided to spend the evening together, maybe even have a sleepover.

When the Swiss woman appeared, the first one from the team to get to the parking lot, she was a little out of breath and looked drained. Not physically, but emotionally. You debated giving her a hug, however Ana decided for you by walking directly towards the driver seat and slipping in without pausing for a second.

You assumed that she was just eager to leave, perhaps scared that one of her former teammates would catch up to her and would want to have a prolonged conversation. That was definitely something you were a little anxious about yourself with your own former teammates. Therefore the quick departure suited you just fine.

And when you caught a glimpse of some of your former teammates entering the car park as you drove off, you thanked Ana in your mind.

The truth was that the Swiss woman had actually done it for you. Throughout the night she didn’t have the same opportunity to continuously watch you as you had, but still she kept glancing over at you any chance she got. And Ana had noticed instantly that you didn’t feel comfortable, everything about your posture and your expression had screamed that you wanted to leave. So she had made sure to rush and get you out of there as quickly as she could.

During the car ride home you kept up a constant stream of light chatter, hoping that it posed a good enough distraction for your companion. Now that she was so close, you didn’t dare to outright stare at her like you had done during the game, but with some quick glances now and then you ensured that Ana looked mostly calm, not really happy though.

At your apartment you had everything waiting for a cozy movie night. You ushered Ana to sit down and relax, while you whirled around the apartment getting everything ready. It didn’t take long since you had prepared what you could before leaving for the game.

Once you sat down and flicked on the TV, turning to the Swiss woman with a slightly forced smile, you noticed that something wasn’t right. Ana was chewing her lips nervously, tapping the tips of her fingers together in quick succession.

“Is everything okay?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “No wait, I’m sorry, forget that. Let’s just watch the movie, hopefully that will be a good distraction and if not, just tell me. Then we can try something else. Maybe play a game? Or just go to sleep?“

Ana sighed deeply, unhappiness etched on her usually so happy face. Anxiety began freezing your veins; you weren’t doing a good enough job at distracting her. You weren’t good enough.

“Look I know I said that stupid thing about preferring distractions once but I didn’t mean it. I just said it because…” Ana trailed off, looking very uncertain if she should continue.

“What?”

That was the only thing you could think of. The idea that all this time you hadn’t actually been giving the blonde what she craved most, felt like a stab through the middle of your heart. But even more so you wondered, if you hadn’t than why had she still been hanging out with you?

Apparently Ana decided that she did want to explain her reasoning some more. She took a deep breath before she continued talking.

“I only said it because I felt so bad complaining about my transfer to Atlético to you of all people. But I’ve regretted it almost every time we’ve hung out. Because I want to talk with you about it, I want to talk about everything with you. And most of all I want you to talk to me about your own unwanted transfer and how it makes you feel. But I felt weird pushing you to open up about it after I said I didn’t want to talk about mine.”

There was too much in Ana’s explanation that you didn’t know how to deal with, so you focused on the things that were easy for you, “You know you can always talk to me about anything. Please never feel bad about that, I’m always happy to listen! And don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine with my transfer. These things happen and it’s not like Real is a bad team or anything, so I can’t really complain.”

That was a flat out lie of course, you had been complaining a lot about your transfer and you definitely still had strong feelings about it, all of them bad. But Ana didn’t need to worry about that, not when she was struggling with her own club situation.

The Swiss woman scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your thigh. She looked at you seriously and you knew instantly that the Swiss woman didn’t believe a word you had just said.

“Don’t do that, please. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to feel bad after being dropped by your club, I know I do and my connection to Barcelona wasn’t even a deep as yours with Atléti.”

The softness of Ana’s voice combined with her words, words that you had been craving to hear for the longest time, brought tears to your eyes. You blinked furiously to get rid of them and quickly diverted your gaze, hopefully blocking the Swiss woman from seeing your watery eyes. Of course you had no such luck.

Ana closed the last few centimeters of distance between you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Still, you didn’t turn to meet her eyes. You were fine. The transfer didn’t bother you. At least not enough to cry about it to the Swiss woman.

“Maybe tonight we can just be sad together? I think we both need that,” Ana suggested, her voice quivering.

This made you look up. When you saw that the blonde’s own eyes were also filled with tears your resolve to be strong crumbled. If Ana needed this than you would give it to her. And if it just so happened to align with what you longed for as well that was just a lucky coincidence.

“Okay,” you mumbled and that was all Ana needed. She drew you against her, practically pulling you into her lap.

You held out a second longer but when you felt Ana’s body shaking from her sobs and heard her crying, you didn’t bother to hold yourself back any longer, letting your own tears fall.

And that’s how you stayed for a long time, the two of you falling apart in each other’s arms. You didn’t really talk about anything that night, simply relocating to your bedroom and falling asleep in each other‘s arms once all the tears had been shed.

That was a first for the two of you. At every sleepover before you had kept a careful distance, both of you sleeping on their designated side of the bed, but that night nothing was keeping you apart.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

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klemen-tine · 14 hours

Text

Blowing Raspberries Part 2

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Finally the 2nd part is out! A bit short but I genuinely felt there wasn't much needed.

Part 1

TW: Child Neglect and just Yandere themes

Living full time with the Waynes was different. It shouldn’t be, because he’s lived here before. Even if it wasn’t permanent, he still knew the ins and outs of the manor and the daily lives of each member of this family.

He watched the television numbly, feeling Dick’s fingers carding through his hair and twisting and twirling each lock. The difference was the Wayne family. Underneath the smiles and gentle gestures, Y/N could see the underlying desires and wants in each movement. A desire that Y/N has seen art collectors view paintings that are not in their collection. The want and need to have it with them at all times.

Y/N could almost see it. In their eyes, he was no longer the brother that came and went, but now a piece of the collection that they had bought from the original collector.

‘I’m being dramatic.’ Y/N thought, focusing back on the movie and trying to ease his fears about everything. Just because they bought the company,which he was still better about, does not mean they own him. They would never do that to him.

He also believed that about them buying the company.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick asked, peering down at his older brother who was looking dazed. Y/N smiled, “Just thinking.”

“About what? Maybe I can help.” Y/N smiled and Dick, and when Dick smiled back, there was absolutely no way that Dick could do that to him.

“About this situation.” Dick looked confused momentarily, “What situation?” Y/N blinked in shock, digesting the words before slowly sitting up so he could face his brother, “This situation. Me being here indefinitely now, the family company is no longer mine…”

Dick cocked his head to the side, “There’s nothing to think about though.” Y/N’s smile was tense as he processed what Dick said, “Yes. Yes, there is Dick.” Blue eyes continued to stare at him in confusion, “Like what?”

“...Seriously?” Y/N sat up, and for a minute, he felt Dick’s hands tighten in his hair before they let go. Dick furrowed his brow before realization crashed into him, “Oh! You mean living here!” Before Y/N could say anything, Dick leaned against Y/N’s shoulder, “What’s there to think about? The only difference is that you are now living here 24/7.”

Y/N chuckled, “Just because you guys bought the company doesn’t mean I live here.” Dick’s gaze turned cold before he began pouting, and Y/N had wondered if he momentarily hallucinated it. Dick let out a loud groan, “But you can’t leave! Y/N, what on earth are we going to do?” Y/N laughed, “The same you have always done, Dickie. Besides, for what it is worth, I’ll be here for a few more days.” Dick smiled up at him, “You better be. Dropping contact like that.” There was something dark in his voice that Y/N chalked up to him still being upset.

Y/N continued to chuckle, his attention now returning back to the t.v. They watched it together for hours, browsing through different channels and watching different shows. It was just like when they were younger, Dick leaning against Y/N who flicked through the channels. Only now, there was an arm strategically looped with Y/N’s, and the man could feel the muscles underneath Dick’s skin that although weren’t flexed, they were a little tense.

Almost like Dick was expecting Y/N to leave. It was kind of unsettling.

“Master Y/N, your father is on the phone.” Y/N looked up at Alfred with a confused look, “Okay, thank you Alfie.” Dick’s grip tightened momentarily before he released his hold and let Y/N get up from the couch. Alfred passed the phone to Y/N, and he had a moment of confusion as to why his father called the Wayne landline instead of Y/N’s phone

“Hello?”

‘Why the hell aren’t you picking up your phone?!’ Y/N pulled the phone away from the phone momentarily, letting his ears ring before placing the phone next to his other ear, “What are you talking about? You haven’t called.”

‘Do not lie to me Y/N! I have been calling you for days, and I expect an answer!’ Y/N’s face morphed into confusion as he pulled out his phone and looked at his notifications, “Father, I am seeing no calls from you.” Y/N flicked through their messages, phone logs, even voicemail but there was nothing.

He heard his father sigh irritably on the other side of the line, and Y/N fought back a shiver. Taking a deep breath, Y/N stilled his racing heart and continued the conversation, “Okay, since you have me on the phone, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

‘The bloody Waynes!’ There was no way Dick didn’t hear it, but a quick glance at the man and he was on his phone. Returning his attention to the call, Y/N’s father was still screeching and yelling about the family.

‘-and you! You probably helped them out with that!’

“Me?!”

‘Yes you! You don’t think I don’t know about you running to that manor whenever I am gone? Ridiculous! It is your fault the company was bought!’ Y/N felt heat rise to his cheeks and fire lit in his chest, “You were the one who signed the papers! How is it my fault?”

‘You idiot! Do you think I had a choice?! If it weren’t for you, that company would still be mine!’

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?” Before he could answer, another person joined in on the call, ‘Mr. L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure of you having called my manor phone?’

‘Mr.-Mr. Wayne.’

“Bruce?” He could hear the other hum, ‘Y/N, you can hop off. I need to talk to Mr. L/N.’ The heat in Y/N’s chest dimmed, and instead ice began to fill his veins, “Um, no it’s okay Bruce. I can talk to him–”

‘Y/N.’ There’s a way he said it, one that left no room for arguments, that had Y/N blinking in shock. His body frozen and eyes wide, he pressed the button without really thinking about it. It wasn’t Bruce who said his name, but Batman.

Y/N wanted to call back and tell Bruce off, but Alfred was quick to take the phone away and someone had grabbed his hand. He met the exhausted blue eyes of Tim, and worry eclipsed his feeling of irritation at the sight of those bags under his eyes.

“Oh my God, Tim! When was the last time you slept?” Y/N herded his younger brother to the couch where Dick was still sitting and gently plopped the teen between the two of them. Tim groaned, collapsing against Dick who wrapped his arms around his younger brother, “Wednesday.”

“It's Sunday!”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh.’” Y/N shook his head and did everything in his power to make Tim comfortable enough for him to get some sleep. Which wasn't hard. As soon as Y/N threw a blanket over his thin body, Tim had knocked out against Dick. Dick was content being a pillow for his younger brother, having his arm resting on Tim’s body as the other continued to sleep.

Y/N hummed, smiling at his younger brothers and placing his phone call with his father on pause.

++++

The strangeness of his current living situation wouldn’t come to light again until a few days later, when the bruises have turned yellow and the feeling of being restricted started feeling like a collar around the neck rather than iron bars. Y/Ns had tried, multiple times, to leave the manor. While he does see the manor as home, it doesn’t replace the other manor he grew up in.

“I’m not a captive, I can go and I am going home.” He stared into Damian’s blazing green eyes, the youngest Wayne being the one to stand in the way of Y/N and the door. Damian’s face in a scowl and his arms crossed, he glared at his oldest brother.

“You cannot.” His voice clipped and short, and Y/N wanted to roll his eyes, “Dami, why can’t I leave?”

“Because you belong here. Everything you need is here.”

“I understand that Dami, however the L/N Manor is also my home and I need to go back to it.” Damian shook his head, “No you don’t. This is your home.” It was like Y/N was talking to a parrot who kept repeating the same sentence over and over again. No matter the amount of reasoning or explanations given. He fought to bury his face in his hands, and instead he opted to suck on his cheek in irritation.

“You’re making it sound like if I leave, then I am not coming back.” Damian’s green eyes steeled and his nose scrunched in a way to fight off a pout. Y/N furrowed his brow, wondering where this tantrum was coming from. Damian was above tantrums, finding them childish and pathetic, however he wasn’t above pouting. Y/N had gotten used to Damian’s pouting faces, and even knew how to combat them.

However, this whole thing was new. Not once has Damian ever fought this hard for Y/N to stay.

“Damian, what is going on?” Y/N stared down at the boy, who looked like he had swallowed a lemon. He swiveled his head around when he heard footsteps approaching the foyer and sighed in relief that it was Alfred.

“Alfie, what on earth is going on?” The old butler raised an eyebrow, “Perhaps we should have this conversation over some tea.” It was said in a tone that Y/N knew not to argue with, and he gave Damian one last glance before following the older man into the dining room where a tea set was ready for them.

Y/N buried his head in his hands and groaned, “Alfie, what is going on in this household?” The near silent clink of a porcelain cup being placed in front of him had him reaching for the delicate handle. The butler sat next to Y/N, reaching for his own cup and taking a small inhale of the steam that was carrying the scent of oranges and chocolate, “They are being a bit difficult.”

“A bit?” Y/N let out a chuckle and stared at Alfred in shock, “Dick is acting like I don’t have a manor to go back to, Tim is being Tim, Jason pretends he can’t read on his own and wants me there when he does decides to pick a book from the library, and now Dami.” Y/N tapped the table with his fingernail, feeling the frustration digging into his skin, “Bruce is the worst of them. Asking a wall to change colors is easier than asking Bruce to be honest.”

Some part of Y/N was still bitter over Bruce acquiring the L/N family business, and he was trying desperately to understand it from that man’s perspective. Key word was ‘trying’ because he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Bruce knows how much that company means to Y/N, and how hard Y/N had worked for it.

Sure, Bruce says he can still manage it, but it means nothing if the company is not his. He’d have to answer to Bruce and Tim. Just thinking about it pisses him off so much.

Alfred nodded, “Oh trust me, I know. It seems they all inherited his stubbornness.” The manor’s residential grandfather figure understood each inhabitant perfectly, watching them grow up into the people they are today.

Y/N groaned, sipping the hot tea and sighing as the liquid warmed his throat and chest, “Like, is all of this a joke?” Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder, and Y/N could see the apology in his eyes. He sighed heavily and returned his attention forward, tracing a finger around the rim of the tea cup and staring into his own reflection.

It was all a joke. It had to be, right? “Y/N.” He looked up and Bruce was standing in the doorway. His expression relaxed, but Y/N has been around the man long enough to know that those tense shoulders are those prepared to give less than savory news. Alfred removed himself from the table, and Bruce took the seat next to Y/N.

“How have you been adjusting?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, “There’s no adjusting Bruce. Every one of you is making it seem like I am going to stay forever.” Bruce gave him a sad smile, and Y/N glared at the look, “What?”

“Y/N, your father sold the manor. There is no L/N estate anymore.” The floor feels as though it is opening up and about to swallow him whole. Y/N could feel his heart stop and the air leave his lungs like it was a punch. The world going blank and his eyes could only focus on the painting behind Bruce’s head.

The manor was sold? His home, and everything in there, gone? Just like that?

Faint memories of giggles and smiles filled his mind, his memory unable to conjure up the face of his mother but he remembers her laugh. Back when times were good and his father wasn’t an asshole. When he didn’t have to seek comfort in the arms of his neighbor and try and fill the hole in his chest with lost boys and girls that he sees as his siblings.

All of it was gone.

“-uca, I need you to breathe.” There’s a hand on his arm, the chair is no longer under him. Y/N can see blue eyes staring into his own as he began to realize that they were on the ground, sitting. Or, more like Y/N was sitting and Bruce is kneeling. His face pulled to the center of his face with worry, and Y/N is only now aware of how fast he is breathing.

His hand reached towards his chest and clutched the fabric of his shirt, trying desperately to find something to cling onto as the air continued to get pulled out of his lungs. He couldn’t feel his legs or his other arm to be exact, and the when he tried to voice that all that came out were gasps.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A nod.

“Good, I need you to find five things you can see. When you do, nod for me.” Easy, it was such as easy task but Y/N still found difficulty focusing his vision enough to see even at least three things. However, he finally found it and he nodded. Relief flooded over Bruce’s face, and he gave an encouraging smile, “Good. That’s amazing Y/N, now find four things you can hear.”

That is how they spent their next few minutes, Bruce counting down the five senses while Y/N slowly came to his. Once he could feel the floor beneath him and more movement in his limbs, he sagged forward and into Bruce’s arms.

“I need to call him. I need to call-” Bruce’ phone was already in his hands, and Y/N didn’t even question why it was Bruce’s phone and no his.

He dialed a number he had memorized by heart and held the device close to ear. The damn thing didn’t even ring, ‘I’m sorry. The number you have dialed has either been disconnected or no longer exists–’

A sob on his lips as the weight of it all began crashing on him. The family company gone, the manor, and now this. It was like the universe wanted to take everything that made him a L/N gone.

“Y/N, I am sorry. I don’t know why he did that…” Bruce consoled the son that was never his. Always within arms reach and always a mile away. Always a brush on the fingertips but never in their hands. Until now.

Finally, after so many years of waiting patiently for Y/N to see, here he is in his arms. Here is their strong oldest sibling crying in his father-figures arms because his real father wants nothing to do with him. It took some encouragement, but finally he was theirs.’

Bruce held him tight, his strong arms wrapped around those soldiers that carried too much, and blue eyes met green. Damian stood in front of the door and he watched the interaction take place. A nod to his son and the youngest was gone, without a doubt moving to go and tell the others of the news.

It took ten minutes to get Y/N off the floor and onto the sofa in the lounge room, where Jason and Dick were waiting for him. After passing him to their waiting arms and better worded promises, Bruce carefully peeled himself away from the Y/N and began making his way back to his study.

One thne doors were shut, he pulled out a phonme and began to a dial the most recent number. They picked up on the first ring and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile, “Mr. L/N, thank you for all you have done. Y/N is now in good hands.”

“...My son–”

“Will be happier. You have done your role, Mr. L/N.” He listened as the other seethed on the other side of the line, “Mr. Wayne–”

“Rememer your side of the contract Mr. L/N. No more contact with Y/N, and you get to keep all this money you earned from selling both the business and the manor. You can continue to live out your days in Cabo, with your other family.”

The line went silent, and when he head the shaky exhale, Bruce smiled victoriously, “Take care, Mr. L/N. For your sake, I hope we never speak again.” He hung up, and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile. Finally, after years of watching and waiting, it has finally all come togethe. The final link in the chain forY/N to remain here.

It was hard getting Mr.L/N addicted to Cabo, and evern harder to get him to find someone worth marrying and staring a family with. However, it all paid off. The business was his, and Y/N will still manage that, and the L/N Manor is now Bruce’s which he’s not too sure what he’ll do with.

Maybe a surprise gift for Y/N, but then again, that would mean Y/N would be leaving again.

“Hey Bruce, we’re gonna watch a movie soon to help Y/N feel better. Did you wanna join?” Tim’s voice was muffled through the doors, but Bruce heard them nonetheless. He smiled as whe opened the door, “Sure, its important we are there for him during these times.”

He’s finally with his real family. The family he should have been with from the start.

______________________________________________________

And Scene

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

@jaythes1mp

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gravehags · 2 days

Text

falling so badly (i'm coming apart)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: making out, love confessions, reader is a virgin, idiots in love, masturbation, copia being a possessive little sex freak, gay trauma, vague mention of suicidal ideation, paintless copia, vulnerability, donuts

Words: 6,189

Summary: Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

a/n: well this was supposed to be one fic and now it's looking like it's getting split up into multiple because these hoes (me) don't know how to shut the fuck up. takes place immediately after the events of satan baby! made myself sad writing about their respective trauma so y'all better fucking like this lmao and you can expect a couple more installments :) i promise they'll eventually fuck nasty (tender)

~~~

It takes an absurdly long time for the two of you to finally reach your rooms between Copia routinely pausing to push you against the nearest wall with his fingers buried in your hair, lips slotted against yours and you doing the same to him.

His paints are a mess and you know half of them are now on your face but it matters little to either of you. Your right hand carries the bag full of gifts you received that evening while the left is entwined with Copia’s large, leather clad one and the sight makes you grin with pure delight. Finally, you took the step you’ve been dying to for months and your risk has more than paid off. Now here you are, standing outside your door hand in hand with your beloved giving each other a sideways glance. You set down your bag and turn to face him.

“Would you…would you like to come in?”

Your voice is a little shaky and you know exactly why as you watch the Cardinal gnaw on his lower lip and fidget. This has the potential to be a huge night for you, in more ways than one, and the anxiety in your stomach bubbles. He looks as if he is struggling as he lets out a deep sigh and your heart plummets.

“Dolcezza, I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “I would love nothing more. Truly, you have no…no idea how much I desire…”

When he reopens his eyes his gaze is hungry and you nearly gasp at the way his eyes slowly drag over the shape of you. “How I…cazzo, bellezza you have no idea how mad you make me.”

“The feeling’s mutual, believe me,” you murmur, tilting your head and watching him curiously. You’re not sure if your ears are playing tricks on you but you swear you hear him groan.

“Eh, y-yes. Well. That being said as much as I would love to…to…stay,” he says the word carefully, deliberately, “first I would like to have the chance to eh…to woo you.”

You almost laugh but suppress it when you see how earnestly he looks at you. Your beloved Cardinal. The man who took care of you when you were drunk, the man you called upon to be by your side as you cried. The man who sat in your office multiple days a week, making stupid jokes and flirting with you. Who haunted your dreams. Who listened to you vent and excitedly explain. You would do anything for him. Anything he wanted, and you suspect he would do the same for you. So you smile.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve sufficiently wooed me for the past nine months but I’ll never say no to romance. That’s very thoughtful of you, Copia.”

You watch him blush and you know you have a gooey expression on your face.

“Bene. Bene! I just…want to give you everything you deserve. T-to take you out. Spend time…more time with you.”

Everything you deserve. You don’t know if you deserve it but you know what you want. And while it’s clear he’s not going to indulge that particular desire tonight that doesn’t mean you can’t give him a little tease, right? Slowly you lean forward to wrap your arms around him, breathing in the smoky smell of his cologne on his pellegrina. You can hear him inhale deep as his nose trails along your neck and one of his hands tentatively slides along the small of your back. You just hold him for a moment and allow him to relax into your embrace before putting your lips to his ear and murmuring your killing blow.

“I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can stay a virgin a while longer.”

His breath comes so sharp he nearly hiccups as you place a kiss to the tip of his carefully crafted sideburn and pull away. His pupils are blown, mouth hanging open and practically panting. He looks like he wants to say something but all that comes out is a slight whine.

“Goodnight, Copia,” you murmur, picking your bag up and opening your door. You step through the threshold and turn back to face him.

“Good–” his voice comes out high and pained, “goodnight, cara mia.”

Your eyes flick over him, echoing the way he looked at you earlier, and there is an ache at the juncture of your thighs when you see the not insignificant bulge tenting his cassock. He starts when he realizes what you’ve seen, hands dropping to mask himself but the damage has been done. You shut the door with a quiet snap and you hear a rough “cazzo” being snarled through the wood. Between his kisses and that…you certainly have enough material to take care of yourself tonight.

And you do just that.

–

He’s practically running to get to the safety of his quarters, praying to Sathanas that no one stumbles upon him in this state. His mind has to stay blank, to steer clear of the bombshell you just casually dropped on him with a kiss and a smile. If he dwells on it too long he’s going to make a mess in his trousers and he does not want to have to explain that to the abbey launderers.

Again.

His prayers are answered as he pants in front of his door, having steered clear of anyone who could be wandering the halls. He fumbles with his keys, hands shaking as he manages to open the door and bolt inside. It’s cold in his rooms but all of a sudden he’s too hot, the wool of his cassock restricting as he shucks off his gloves and fumbles for the buttons. He only gets halfway through with them before losing patience and tearing the garment up and over his head and throwing it to the ground. His suspenders are slid off his shoulders with such force one of them comes detached from its button on his waistband and he viciously untucks his shirt. His cock throbs as he growls and undoes the buttons, toeing off his shoes at the same time.

“Merda,” he hisses, aware of the mess he’s making for himself but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is unzipping his pants and sliding his underwear down before collapsing to his knees. A virgin. She’s a fucking virgin. He knows he won’t last long but he spits into his palm and takes himself in hand all the same, whimpering when his thumb brushes against the swollen head. Your name spills from his lips as he wetly slides his fist up and down, thinking of the way your tongue felt gliding against his when he had you pushed up against the wall. The soft little whimpers you made into his mouth, the way your fingernails scratched at the base of his scalp. Was he the first to ignite such passions in your heart? He groans at the thought, the sound of skin on skin deafening in the dimly lit room.

“W-what a g-gift you’re giving your C-Cardinal,” he grunts, “bellezza mia–ah–my p-perfect girl. So good for me. I will make you–augh–sing.”

His knees protest the position but his hips flex upwards, rutting into his fist. When he cums it’s with a growl, imagining you blushing beneath him with your pretty mouth hanging open in a moan. Each spurt paints his chest, clinging to the abundance of fine brown hairs and dripping down his stomach. His head falls back as he pants in the dark of his sitting room, still gripping his cock. It’s usually at this point the shame begins to wash over him for imagining you so lewdly but…you were all but his now, were you not? His lips curl into a devious smile and he chuckles thinking about how sweetly you kissed him tonight - and let him kiss you. How you tease him so, the little game the two of you have played over the past months. His dolcezza. And no one else’s. He would make sure of that. When his head falls forward again to look down he sucks in a breath at the sight of his cock swelling in his grip. Hard again, and so soon? The power you hold over him is unthinkable and he aches to tell you so. And speaking of ache…his back and knees both throb but all he can think about is the smell of your perfume and the taste of mulled wine on your mouth. His beloved…oh how he longs to worship you, to spread your legs and nestle himself between them to lap at your cunt. The thought drives his fist to move once more, mouth hanging open. He should haul himself up, drag himself to his bedroom and into the shower but all he can think of is you. You come as easily to him as breathing, you always have. He’s panting as he thinks about all the sweet sounds he will eke out of you, of you giving him the honor of having you. And he would not make you regret it - content to ravish you with fingers and tongue and cock until you beg him to stop. As he continues to furiously stroke himself his mind wanders to your first confession when you had told him about your lustful actions. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me. A whine is wrenched from his throat and his vision starts to go blurry with the knowledge that you were talking about him. That his sick little fantasies and indulgences were all correct. And as he cums for a second time that night, his seed dripping over his fingers and onto the unforgiving hardwood floor, he’s filled with the most satisfying sense of victory.

—

When you wake up the next morning and stretch in bed until your joints pop, it takes a moment to remember the events of the previous night. You think of your lovely time spent with the Papas, the beautiful gifts you received and…oh. A shit-eating grin stretches your mouth and you bury your face into your pillow to let out a scream. Merry fucking Christmas to you. You finally, finally made the step and told Copia how you feel and it’s like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders. And not only did you tell him, he reciprocated the feelings. He likes you. With a sigh you stare up at the dark wooden beams and rub your eyes til you see spots.

And then you remember.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you half-shout into your bedroom, hand flying to your mouth in horror. He told you he wanted to woo you, to be sweet and treat you like you deserve and you…you idiot. Why did you feel the need to divulge one of your deepest secrets to a man you literally just told you cared for? God, that mulled wine did a number on you. What he must think of you…you look to your left and unplug your phone from the charger with every intent of texting him and apologizing for your behavior but before you can your screen lights back up with a notification.

Buongiorno, amore! I hope you slept well! Last night feels like a dream…one I wish to never awaken from.

Your phone vibrates again.

That is, I would like to awaken so that I might see you again.

And again.

It does not make last night any less dreamy, though.

You snort as your gaze goes to the ceiling. Idiot. Your idiot. Clearly you hadn’t been too off-putting, then. Sitting up you scoot backwards and type.

Morning, Copia. Thanks again for being so lovely last night <3

You type out your next thought, then hesitate.

I slept with your necklace on last night to keep you close to me. Is that weird?

Ehh…now that is off-putting. You move your thumb to delete the text and end up hitting the send button instead.

“Shitting fuck!” You fling yourself back down onto the mattress and groan with your eyes scrunched shut. Great. Now not only are you a virgin, you’re a cringe little simp too. Your phone vibrates but it takes another couple of minutes before you get the courage to look at what you’ve wrought. Finally you crack one eye open and glance at your screen.

Dolcezza. My dolcezza…you are too kind to this old man, I don’t deserve you but I adore you.

The candidness of his words makes you melt, curling into the covers to hunch over your phone. I don’t deserve you, what bullshit.

Copia, I am the very least you deserve. And I adore you back. Are you busy today?

The thought of seeing him always brought butterflies to your stomach but now they feel a little more exciting.

Nope! Yesterday was the start of the holiday, remember?

Shit, that’s right. You have the next two weeks off (with pay, Sister Imperator graciously informed you, much to your shock) and this was after you already had some time off to celebrate the holidays with your family. Truly you couldn’t imagine a better gig.

Duh, sorry! If you have a chance today, I’d love to see you. No pressure though!

Were you being too needy? You did just confess your feelings for one another last night. The quickness with which your phone vibrates again makes you jolt.

Amore mio, I am already on my way to your quarters xxx

The goofy, dreamy smile that blooms on your face disappears with alarming speed. Shit! He’s on his way!

You practically fall out of bed after flinging the covers back and immediately shuddering at how fucking cold your room is. Quickly, you strip and fumble through your drawers for some fresh clothes. Something casual but not too casual…wait. Hold the fucking bus. You look down at your phone again to check the time.

8:54 AM

Growling, you slam your dresser drawer. If you were meeting Copia at this time pre-events of last night you’d throw on a pair of leggings and a big cropped shirt and call it good. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do right now. He didn’t fall for you perfectly coiffed and styled, he fell for you being a hot mess. You never had to wear a mask in front of him before and you’re not about to start. Not after some of the shit he’s heard come out of your mouth up to and including last night.

Anyway.

The shirt you pick is soft and well-loved, the gold grucifix he gifted you last night catching the light on your clavicle. Before leaving your room you give yourself a couple of spritzes of perfume and grab your phone. You barely have a minute to yawn in your living room when there’s a soft knock at your door. You count for five giddy seconds before walking over and opening it and you give the man before you a sleepy smile. He’s wearing what you have come to know as his “leisure clothes”, still sporting his paints despite the fact that it’s early and he’s off duty.

“Buongiorno,” he says softly, hands fidgeting.

“Hey,” you murmur, your smile widening. The two of you stand on the threshold in silence for almost a minute when he lunges at you. The action makes you gasp but any sound from your mouth is muffled when he slots his own over it. You’re content to let him lick into your mouth for a moment, his gloved hands gripping at your waist when you come to a realization and shove him off you.

“Oh gross,” you back away and he looks horrified as if he’s done something terribly wrong, “It’s not you! I forgot to brush my teeth, shit. Sorry, sorry - give me a minute!”

He says something but you don’t hear it as you dash back into your room and take care of business, snorting at the way you’re once again smeared with his lip paint as you scrub. After you finish you take a moment to clean the black marks off your lips before returning to your living room. He still dutifully stands there, hands behind his back.

“Eh–mmph!”

You don’t give him the opportunity to say whatever he wants to say because in two strides you’ve launched yourself into his arms and latched your lips onto his. Gripping the sides of his red velour jacket you pull him towards your couch until his legs bump up against it and with an inelegant shove you push him down onto the cushions. The way he looks up at you, hair tousled and mismatched eyes filled with adoration, makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his freckled cheekbones.

“Copia…Copia I think I lo–”

A sharp - infuriatingly sharp - knock rings out in the room. You growl, your hands dropping from Copia’s face and your heart sinks at the way his shoulders sag. Another knock rings out and you exhale through your nose.

“Sorry,” you murmur to Copia before making your way to the door and opening it. It’s all you can do to not spit out a terse “what?” at the person standing there. The word is halfway out your mouth when Terzo gives you a goofy grin.

“Buongiorno, bella! You slipped away from us last night and oh, how we missed you. I…”

Terzo trails off and you realize that in that short amount of time Copia has sidled up next to you, a frosty expression on his face as he wraps an arm around your waist. You give him a curious look before looking back to Terzo, whose idiotic grin has somehow gotten even wider.

“Well, well, well now this is a surprise, eh? Congratulazioni to you both…”

Copia’s arm tenses around you as Terzo’s attention returns to you.

“So…how can I help you, Terzo?”

“Ah…right. The book you told me about last night…?”

You remember recommending something to him and hum aloud before breaking free of Copia’s grip and walking over to your bookcase. The tension between the Papa and his Cardinal is palpable and you grab the title and hustle back over to the door.

“Here you go. Uh…thanks for welcoming me to your celebration last night. It was lovely.”

He makes an amused noise.

“And productive too, I see. Well we’ll speak again soon, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Be safe and ah, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Ciao bella. Ciao Cardinal.”

You give him a tight smile before shutting the door and turning to your companion.

“Bit possessive for less than twenty-four hours in, no?” you say with a sly smile. Copia turns an impressive shade of red and takes a step back from you.

“I-I…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

You had only meant to tease him but it’s clear you’ve struck a nerve.

“Don’t be,” you say gently, moving towards him to place your hands on his chest, “You know how I like to fuck with you. And honestly…it was hot.”

The journey his face goes on makes you laugh out loud before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That being said, what was that about?”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a sigh.

“Eh…it’s a long story.”

“Hmm, well last I checked we’ve got the next two weeks off so by all means,” you gesture to the couch, “enlighten me.”

The two of you nestle into the plump cushions, Copia looking apprehensive. You scoot closer to him and sling your leg into his lap, grabbing his hands and holding them in yours. He looks down at your entwined fingers and he smiles softly before letting out a sigh.

“Terzo and I have always had a…well, I don’t think it’s necessarily accurate to call it a rivalry. He’s always found charming people easy whereas I…have always struggled. It started when I was in my late teens at the abbey in Roma - Terzo was a little older and had already taken his vows. There was this boy. Paolo. He was new at the abbey and I was smitten as soon as I saw him. Blonde hair in ringlets that would catch the light…ah dolcezza. And what a voice he had, always standing out in the choir. I was desperate to spend time around him, would accept any scrap of attention he gave me. This went on for months and months, me trailing behind him like a puppy. One day I worked up the courage to make a move and told myself I would approach him at a party that evening. I put on my nicest outfit, oh you should have seen me, cara. My mustache barely there. I thought I looked so dapper. I walked into the party and spotted his blonde curls over by the couch as he was draped on someone else. My heart…stopped. And when I saw who it was he was kissing…well. I’m sure you can guess, eh?”

“Jesus, Copia,” you breathe, squeezing his hand. “That is…incredibly fucked up.”

He nods. “But the worst part was Terzo knew how I felt about him. He knew and he still did it anyway. I cried myself to sleep every night for a week after that. Terzo had the nerve to approach me and tell me that I was ‘too good for him anyway’. Figlio di puttana…I swung on him. Right there in the cloister for everyone to see. The little bastard rat hitting an Emeritus brother. Secondo eventually pulled me off him but I did my damage. In more ways than one - Paolo had seen the whole thing. Wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore and eventually asked for a transfer to Puglia. I never saw him again.”

He gives you a sad smile.

“Needless to say it wasn’t the first time that would happen. And Terzo would always say ‘you were too good for them, topolino, they don’t deserve you’. Well it would have been fucking nice to learn for myself, huh? When I left the Roma abbey at twenty-one and was sent abroad I was finally able to come into my own. So eh. Now you understand why I acted…the way I acted. Mi dispiace.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say softly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I…I get it. We all have our trauma about relationships. I’ll tell you about mine in a minute but I do have to tell you this now…Terzo knew how I felt about you. Saw it almost immediately. Always encouraged me to approach you or spend time with you even when I felt self conscious about it. I can’t speak to his motivations when you were younger but I think he wanted us to get here. I mean, is it selfish and fucked up of me to want to thank him for getting you here?”

Copia nuzzles into your palm before turning his head and placing a kiss there.

“No, tesoro. I don’t think so. And…” he pauses, thoughtful, “perhaps Terzo knew none of those people were meant for me. Ah, that’s silly.” He shakes off the thought and leans over to kiss you on the forehead before looking at you with a cocked head.

“I..I suppose you want to hear my tale then?”

Your hand falls from his face and he nods.

“Only if you wish to share it.”

A deep gut-wreching sigh comes out of you and your hands fall to your lap.

“So, um. Middle school right? I was twelve. Odd…odd kid. Didn’t really have any friends, just a lot of people I hung around. Anyway, this new girl starts at my school in my grade. Hayley. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen - long blonde hair, tall, big blue eyes. And here’s the thing - she was nice to me. Liked me even! I couldn’t believe my luck and I was infatuated. I didn’t even know I liked girls until that point but she was special. So we became friends - best friends, even - and would constantly spend time at each other’s houses. Her parents had a pool so the summer before 8th grade I was always over at her place. One day we’re alone in the water and…Christ, I don’t know what I was thinking…I lean in and peck her on the lips. She freaks out. Starts calling me the nastiest names. Some words I didn’t even know until I heard them coming from her. We get out of the pool and she tells me I have to go home but wouldn’t let me use their phone to call my mom to come pick me up. So I walked home. In my sopping wet bathing suit and flip flops and no towel I walked almost two miles to my house. Jesus, I could’ve been…ugh. Anyway I finally get home to my parents who were flipping out thinking something had happened to me and I just collapsed in the driveway, crying. Sat there on the hot pavement and sobbed and sobbed and told them everything. So you know how it goes, my mom is fucking furious and calls her mom to scream at her for what she did to me, Hayley’s mom screams back calling me some choice fucking slurs. Distinctly remember hearing ‘fat little dyke’ shouted from the receiver. Meanwhile I’m just in my room petrified because I know she’s going to tell everyone when school starts again. Devastated because my only friend whom I adored now was disgusted with me and wanted nothing to do with me. It’s…” for the first time, your voice breaks, “it’s not fucking right for a little girl to go through that, you know? My parents saw the writing on the wall and immediately sent me to therapy but nothing could have prepared me for the first day of school. Kids ignoring me I could handle but their cruelty? Their mockery? I hid in the bathroom every day just fucking suffering. Whenever I saw Hayley it was like a knife in my gut. Finally it…got to a bad point. Like, a really bad point. I almost…anyway. I finally told my parents what was going on and they transferred me to a new school. But, you know, the damage was done.”

You reach up to wipe your tears with a derisive little laugh. Copia makes soft fretting noises at you and raises your hand to his lips to pepper it with kisses.

“Amore…I have no words. No words to describe how…crudele. Children can be so vicious. And for her parents to say such awful things about anyone let alone a child…” he lets out a low growl, “I am so sorry. My bellissima dolcezza…”

“Wow this is not how I pictured this morning going,” you say with a harsh bark of laughter, sniffling, “thought we’d have a little makeout session on the couch then go get some breakfast but you know, here we are. Trauma time.”

He chuckles and the sound warms your heart.

“Thank you for listening,” you whisper before leaning forward to nestle yourself in his lap. “Thank you for always listening, my love.”

Your ear is pressed to his chest and you hear the rumble of one of his little noises.

“And you, amore. We make quite a pair, no?”

You snort inelegantly.

“What, two traumatized, autistic, bisexual bitches?”

Copia lets out a strangled noise and his chest shakes as he dissolves into laughter with his eyes closed. You lean up and peck a kiss onto his jaw.

“So…breakfast?”

“Excellent idea,” Copia says, groaning as you shift off of him and into a standing position. You take his hands and haul him off the couch, still holding on even after he’s up.

“Promise me you’ll tell me about these someday?” you say, gesturing to his gloves. He shifts to his other foot and gnaws on his lower lip.

“Eh…yes. Another long story for another time.”

You sense his discomfort and you have no desire to press the issue. Instead you press your hand to the small of his back and steer him towards the door.

“Trying to get rid of me, tesoro?”

“Hardly,” you say, opening the door and urging him out, “I wanna get down to the dining hall while there’s still donuts.”

—

The rest of the morning is deliciously lazy, with the two of you lingering over your meal long past anyone else. You’ve gotten more than one curious look from a passing sibling, whose eyes flick from your clasped hands to the way you gaze at him, resting your face on your propped up hand. You continue to pick at your scrambled eggs long after they’ve gone cold, content to listen to him ramble (the current topic is medieval Satanic mystics.) He’s filled with such a wealth of knowledge it honestly leaves you in awe, as well as makes you a little giddy to know you have access to him and his beautiful, silly brain whenever you like. Yours. He’s yours. Your eyes trace the hollows of his eyes, masked by black paint, down the length of his long nose, across the spattering of freckles on his cheeks and down to his lips. His plump, soft lips and the way they felt molded to yours. The way he had you pressed against the stone wall of that empty corridor, groaning into your mouth and fisting your hair, his thigh slotted between your legs to press right up against your–

“Cara? Did you hear what I said?”

“Mmm…h-huh what? Sorry?”

The last word comes out of your mouth a little loud and very panicked and Copia cocks his head at you, looking alarmed. You clear your throat and smile sheepishly at him, hoping to God and Satan he didn’t notice you looking at him like that.

“I asked what you would like to do for the rest of the day?”

“I–oh! Uh…what time is it?”

He looks down at his watch.

“Almost 11.”

You rub your eyes. While you might have slept well last night, all of a sudden you’re bone tired. Rehashing horrible life events will do that, you suppose.

“How do you feel about going back to bed?”

Now it’s Copia’s turn to look panicked.

“What bed? Your bed?”

“Yeah, we can nap for a few hours then…I don’t know. Watch TV. Take a walk. Whatever.”

“A nap, right,” he laughs, eyes darting, “ah…I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dolcezza.”

A sinister little grin unfurls on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me? Think I’m going to take advantage of you?”

His face flushes so fast you’re honestly impressed.

“N-not quite eh…cazzo. Diavoletta mia, you are making this very difficult.”

“Oh that’s a new one,” you murmur, running a fingernail over his knuckles. “Diavoletta mia, I like that.”

He gives you a pained look, one that tells you how desperately he’s holding back right now and it makes you ache. All he needs to do is say the word and you’d let him have you. He’s held your mind and soul in the palm of his hand for months now, to give him your body would be your honor. And pleasure. But instead you smile gently at him, knowing how badly he wants to treat you right. You love him for it but goddamn your vibrator is going to be exhausted in the meantime.

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right?” You wince at your choice of word and judging from the way his eye twitches, so does he so you redirect. “C’mon, let’s grab a couple more donuts for later then go get some rest, huh?”

The trip back to your quarters is uneventful, both hands occupied with clutching your prized donuts wrapped in napkins, which you deposit on the counter of your kitchenette. Copia hasn’t said a peep since you left the dining hall and it’s got you anxious, worried that your suggestive behavior earlier was off-putting.

“Hey,” you murmur, raising your hand to lightly grasp at his bicep and run your thumb over the muscle lovingly, “what’s on your mind?”

“Eh, n-nothing, nothing. I’m fine, dolcezza.”

He’s not, and you know he’s not, but you don’t interrogate him further. Instead you take him by the hand and drag him to the doorway of your bedroom.

“I think some well-deserved rest will do us both good, my love.” His mustache twitches in a smile at the endearment which makes you feel relieved.

“Do you want to…um…” you gesture at his eye paint and he looks like a startled deer once again.

“I–yes. Yes, of course. My paints.”

Disengaging from him you walk to your linen closet and procure a washcloth which he takes and shuffles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sigh and rub your eyes before throwing your mussed covers back and climbing into bed. Your phone gets plugged in before you settle on your side with your back facing the bathroom. Minutes go by - you’re not sure how many - and you open your mouth to holler your concern at him but ultimately stop yourself. The door opens quietly almost a minute later but you don’t turn to look at him, instead waiting for him to round the other side of the bed. When he does, you muffle a gasp at his wonderfully bare face. He nudges his shoes off and removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in a short-sleeved black t-shirt and his gloves. You’re overwhelmed - he might as well be stark naked before you for all the pale, freckled flesh you see - holding your breath as he silently peels the covers back and climbs into bed next to you. He settles on his back, staring at the beams on the ceiling and clenching his jaw. You scoot your body nearer to him, and place your fingers on his chin to tilt his face in your direction. He obligingly shifts onto his side, eyes darting everywhere but your gaze.

“Copia,” you whisper, taking in his deep-set eyes, the dark circles normally masked by black paint, and the long brown eyelashes, “you’re beautiful.”

He sucks in a breath and blinks at you, lips parted and pink from where he scrubbed the lipstick off.

“Amore…you…” he sighs heavily, “why do you care for this old man?”

You want to make a joke about hierophilia but can tell from his face this is not the time. So you settle for raw honesty.

“Copia…how could I not? After all the ways you’ve shown you care for me, how could I feel any other way about you? I—“

You can feel a lump forming in your throat so you distract yourself by raising your hand and tracing his crows feet and lines in his forehead.

“Copia, I don’t know of a better way to say this because I’ve never said it before but…I love you. I love everything about you - your mind, your wrinkles, your mustache. The grey in your hair and the way your ass looks in your cassocks,” he chokes out a laugh and leans into your touch, “Your kindness. Your infinite patience with me. The way you’re looking at me right now. I know we just…I don’t know became an item last night but…Copia you have to know I’ve loved you all along.”

Your tears are flowing freely at this point, sliding down your cheeks to soak your pillow and he brings a hand to the back of your head to draw you further towards him. Gently he kisses the salty trails on your cheeks, lips reverently brushing over your features. He addresses you by your name - not an endearment - and presses his forehead to yours.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo,” he murmurs hoarsely, “you are my everything. Tu sei la mia anima. My world. Thank you.”

You’re not sure how long he cradles your face - long after your tears have dried - and when he finally pulls away you feel both incredibly full and incredibly empty. He rolls onto his back and gently pulls you against him, your chin tucked into his shoulder and hand on his chest.

“Today was a lot,” you murmur, tracing designs into his pectoral.

“Bellezza mia,” he says and you can hear his smile, “the day is not over yet. It’s not even noon.”

You groan and smack him playfully, feeling him shake with laughter beneath you.

“Stop laughing at me and go to sleep, Cardinal Copia.”

He sighs, leather-clad fingers running through your hair.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, amore. Your company is far too enjoyable to be unconscious in it.”

It takes all of five more minutes before he starts snoring and you grin, your face pressed against him.

Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #curator reader series #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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