#;now you're stuck with me! (Molly) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sophiethewitch1 · 8 months

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What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

1K notes · View notes

janicekao · 5 months

Text

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.

194 notes · View notes

bupia · 9 months

Text

Treasure hunt: Papa Emeritus IV x AFAB!Reader

Summary: It's Christmas, and Copia won't be returning home this evening. However, he thoughtfully left you a note. What surprises might it hold?

Words: 10.152

Warnings: The Italian nicknames used by Copia has no gender, however the reader is AFAB | Smut (Copia is slightly dom; teasing; dirty talk; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Swearing | Italian swearing

Available on AO3

Primo (ao3) | Secondo (ao3) | Terzo (ao3)

Author's note: This is the Last day of the series XXXMAS AT THE MINISTRY, a Collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat @ghulehunknown and @molly-ghuleh, read their works too. I wanted to let you know that I'll be taking a short break after the Holidays as I'm currently engrossed in a work project. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

"What do you mean you're not coming?" you questioned with disappointment and confusion, pacing back and forth in your room.

"Amore," Copia sighed from the other end of the line. "Per favore, mi dispiace."

"But everyone's already here," you pointed out, worry evident in your voice. "Copia, you said..."

"I know," he responded. "And it kills me that I'm stuck here for reasons even I can't understand. They don't even need me anymore."

"What have you been doing there?"

"Nothing. The clergy insists the Papa Emeritus stays and observes some proceeds for the upcoming New Year's Eve ritual until it's all done, so I watch and do nothing more," he expressed his frustration, and you could almost hear him running a hand through his hair. "I just want to see you; I miss you so much."

"I miss you too. A lot..."

"I miss you immensely, amore mio," Copia confessed with a melancholic tone. "I miss your kisses, your smile, your laughter, your touch, your body..." The last word lingered, emphasized as if he were savoring the memory. "I even miss your beautiful nose."

"My nose?" you chuckled, sitting down on the edge of your bed. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know! I just know that you are perf—" His words were abruptly cut off, and he fell silent. "Amore, I need to go now. I wish I could talk to you a little longer. I really missed your voice throughout the day."

"I missed yours too," you admitted, a tinge of longing in your tone. "What should I do now if you won't make it for dinner?"

"Amore mio," he said with a gentle tone. "There's just one thing that can be done now; you will enjoy the Christmas dinner you put so much effort into." he sighed, frustration evident.

"Ok..." you replied with a touch of sadness in your voice. "But promise me you'll be here tomorrow."

"I promise," he assured, "I'll make it up to you, amore mio. Ti amo così tanto."

"I love you too," you whispered

And then, he ended the call with a series of soft kissing sounds, a distant echo of the warmth you longed for. You sighed, holding the phone away from your ear, absorbing his kisses that felt both comforting and painfully distant. Copia hadn't been this occupied in a long time, and it was Christmas Eve of all days. Both of you had anticipated his return for the holidays, expecting him to be at home with you.

Frustration bubbled up within you as you glanced around the room. Helplessness settled in, and there was nothing you could do but yearn for Copia's presence. Rising from the bed, you adjusted your clothes, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully to the bedroom door.

With a gentle push, you opened the door, ensuring it closed quietly behind you. The echoes of your footsteps resonated as you retraced your path back to the dining room of the Papal Apartment. As you moved through the rooms, you couldn't help but appreciate the festive decor. At least he had taken the time to help you decorate.

"So?" Terzo inquired as you reentered the dining room, slipping his phone back into his blazer pocket.

"He won't make it," you revealed, a touch of melancholy lingering in your voice, veiled by a faint attempt at a smile.

"What do you mean he won't make it?" Secondo asked, topping off his wine. "What's going on?"

"He mentioned the clergy is keeping him there," you explained.

Terzo grumbled, "Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti. What now? Why can't they let him have a break?"

"I..." you sighed, moving toward the table. "I don't know."

"It's still Christmas," Primo chimed in. "I believe Copia would want us to celebrate together. We can still have our dinner."

Terzo rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, it wouldn't be a proper holiday without the clergy complicating things, sì?"

Secondo, his annoyance palpable, grumbled, "This is ridiculous. What are we supposed to do without him? It's Christmas Eve!"

Primo, chimed in once again, with a gentle smile. "We can still make it special. Copia would want us to enjoy the evening together."

You nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"So, what's the plan now?" Terzo quipped, his tone laden with sarcasm as he eyed the table. "Shall we stage a satanic reenactment of the Last Supper without our fratello?"

Secondo grunted, clearly irritated. "Stai zitto, Terzo. But he is right, Christmas dinner without him? Doesn't feels right."

"I agree with Primo. I doubt he'd want us to do not enjoy the dinner while he's stuck there," you murmured, your sadness bubbling to the surface.

Terzo smirked, pouring himself another glass of wine, "Maybe we can send him a virtual plate. I'm sure the clergy wouldn't mind that."

"Terzo..." Primo sighed, rolling his eyes in Terzo's direction. "We can, at the very least, set aside some leftovers for him," he suggested. "A Christmas meal will be waiting for him when he finally returns."

You managed a weak smile. "I just wish he could be here."

Terzo sighed, looking at you. He made his way to your direction and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Guess those unholier-than-thou vecchi need him to bless their turkey with a side of devilish charm or something."

Your gaze shifted to Terzo, and a laugh escaped you. He responded with a warm smile, exchanging the hand on your shoulder for a gentle touch on your face.

"Thank you," you said, with gratitude.

Terzo nodded appreciatively and turned away, taking his place at the table. "Can't let this food go to waste, can we? Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame."

With that, the four of you took your seats at the table. Though the absence of Copia cast a shadow over the celebration, the presence of Primo, Secondo and Terzo, eased the melancholy. After all, they had all made their way to the Ministry for this special occasion, and you felt a sense of responsibility not to let the festive spirit dwindle.

Secondo, in particular, had regaled the gathering with stories of meticulously crafting a turkey recipe he discovered in some book. Meanwhile, Terzo, had taken charge of the wine selection, claiming he didn't trust his brothers to make the right choices. Primo, had taken it upon himself to prepare cranberry sauce for the occasion. He proudly revealed that he had been cultivating cranberries in his house throughout the year, patiently waiting for this moment.

The four of you began serving yourselves. However, each time you glanced to your side, the empty seat served as a poignant reminder of Copia's absence. The realization that he wouldn't be home, sharing in the Christmas dinner, weighed heavily on your heart. The inexplicable demands of the clergy, only made it challenging to fully embrace the joy of the occasion.

However, your melancholic thoughts were momentarily interrupted when Secondo extended his arm towards you, pointing to the cranberry sauce placed in front of you. You looked at his hand and took the bowl, passing it to Secondo with a warm smile on your lips.

Primo began, leaning back in his seat. "It's good to have the family reunited. We haven't seen each other that much," he remarked, lifting his glass of wine for a sip. "Especially now that we're not tied up at the Ministry."

"Vero," Secondo agreed, his gaze briefly drifting to the empty seat. "Miss those times, even if they were chaotic."

Terzo, with a smirk, added, "Chaos and all, it was our chaos."

"Sì," Primo nodded, his expression softening. "But, at least we can enjoy Christmas without worrying about being summoned for some arcane ritual or paperwork."

Terzo raised his glass. "To getting a break."

The glasses chimed together in a harmonious toast, and each of you savored a sip of your drinks. Setting the glasses down on the table, you all returned to your meals, continuing to enjoy the Christmas feast.

Primo, his eyes sparkling with mischief, broke the silence. “Remember the time when we were younger and we decided to give the Ministry a taste of our version of Christmas caroling?”

Terzo grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, the ‘Satanic Carolers’ ensemble. Our renditions of classic carols with a satanic twist."

"And who can forget Terzo's attempt at caroling?" Secondo added, sharing a knowing look with Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes. "My rendition of 'Jingle Bells' was avant-garde."

“Of course,” Secondo replied with a touch of irony. “Truly groundbreaking.”

“What? You don’t appreciate my avant-garde style?” Terzo asked, turning his face to look at Secondo, who couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Primo and you joined Secondo in laughter, and even Terzo, unable to resist the infectious moment, started to chuckle. With that, the four of you continued with the dinner, savoring the food and exchanging conversations filled with laughter.

Although Copia's absence lingered, the presence of his brothers somehow eased your melancholic thoughts, creating a sense of warmth. The only wish lingering in your mind was for Copia to be home tomorrow, sharing a Christmas lunch with the family.

As the hours slipped away, you all gradually set aside your plates, leaning back in your seats to savor a moment of contentment. Eventually, the four of you to rise and initiate the post-dinner cleanup. Plates and remnants of the feast were gathered, and you moved together to the kitchen.

Side by side, you worked on organizing the leftovers into the refrigerator and washing the dishes. The clatter of plates and the hum of conversation filled the kitchen. Once the tasks were completed, you four returned to the living room, reconvening around the dining table for more conversation and shared wine.

"I just want to thank you all for coming," you expressed with gratitude, a warm smile accompanying your words.

"You don't have to thank us," Primo replied warmly. "You're family now."

"It was great to have you planning this dinner for us," Terzo added.

"That's true, we appreciate it," Secondo acknowledged, taking a contemplative sip of his wine. "Should we get going now?"

Primo nodded ever so slightly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Sì, we should be on our way," he suggested.

"Certo," Secondo concurred. "And thank you for the dinner," he added.

As Secondo and Primo spoke, the four of you gracefully made your way toward the entrance of the Papal Apartment. As you reached the door, you took hold of the doorknob, turning it to open the door for them. The trio stepped out into the hallway, turning to face you.

"Thank you all for coming and staying; I'm sure Copia would have enjoyed it."

"Non preoccuparti," Secondo reassured. "We'll be back for lunch tomorrow, sì?"

"I hope so; there's still an abundance of food left."

"We'll be here," Primo said, gracefully taking your hand and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of it. "Buona notte."

"Good night, Papa," you replied.

"Buona notte," Secondo nodded with a subtle gesture of farewell.

"Good night," you said, a warm smile lighting up your face.

"Buona notte. Don't forget to store the wine correctly for tomorrow," Terzo reminded.

"Of course, I wouldn't forget."

"Bene, molto bene," Terzo nodded, beginning to walk away. However, he paused, turned back to you, and walked in your direction. "I almost forgot," he said, placing his hand in his pocket and extending a neatly folded piece of paper to you. "That's from Copia. Buona fortuna."

Turning away, Terzo rejoined his brothers who were a few steps ahead. Clutching the neatly folded paper in your hand, you closed the door with a measured touch, your brows knit in anticipation. Walking towards the bedroom, you unfolded the paper with a sense of intrigue.

Upon reaching the bedroom, you paused in your steps, entering with a focused gaze fixed on the paper in your hands—Copia's handwritten note. As your eyes traced the lines, you began to read.

As you read these words, Terzo has faithfully passed on this message to you. No need to worry, everything's fine. Remember the first time we bumped into each other at the Ministry? I was immersed in preparing the altar for the mass when you graced me with your presence. Well, head back there. A little surprise awaits you. Yours always, Copia

What was this? What could Copia possibly mean with this note? A treasure hunt crossed your mind, and a laugh escaped your lips at the whimsical idea. Regardless, there was no time to linger on speculation. Your focus sharpened as you realized you needed to reach a specific destination—the Chapel.

Exiting your bedroom with hurried steps, excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of what awaited in the chapel. Could it be Copia? Probably wasn't, as he wasn't at the Ministry, and he wouldn't have skipped the Christmas dinner if he were. As you reached the front door of the Papal Apartment, you swung it open with a sense of urgency. The door closed behind you, and with purposeful strides, you made your way towards the chapel.

As you stepped into the chapel, the familiar scent of incense enveloped you, evoking memories of that first meeting. You still remember it—carrying Terzo's robes, you had entered to find Copia near the altar. He was still a Cardinal back then, and you were merely another sibling of sin toiling diligently within the Ministry. On that day, your paths crossed for the first time. Copia, in his red Cardinal robes, had glanced up as you entered. And for a moment your eyes met, and a subtle understanding passed between you—an unspoken connection.

Looking around the chapel, you felt a moment of uncertainty, you pondered where to go. However, as your gaze shifted towards the altar, a nostalgic sight caught your eye—the old red biretta that Copia used to wear. A bright smile illuminated your face as recognition dawned. You quickly made your way toward the altar, guided by the familiar presence of his cardinal hat.

Reaching for the altar, you delicately cradled the biretta in your hands, feeling the texture of its well-worn fabric. Softness filled your eyes as you gazed at the cardinal hat, a symbol of Copia's past. Nostalgia washed over you as you thought about the times when Copia was the Cardinal. There was a certain amusement in witnessing him in those distinctive red robes. It wasn't that you weren't proud of his role as Papa Emeritus IV; it was just the appreciation for the unique charm he exuded in his earlier cardinal days.

While appreciating Copia's biretta in your hands, you almost overlooked another folded paper hidden beneath it. Gently placing the cardinal hat back on the altar, you retrieved the concealed note. Unfolding it, your eyes were met with yet another message from Copia.

You know, I carry the memory of that day with me in my heart. It's impossible to forget. When our eyes met, it was as if time itself surrendered, leaving just you and me in this unholy Ministry, breathing and existing in the moment. We didn't exchange words back then. You were busy with your tasks, and I had my own to tackle. Yet, I have a confession to make—I was dying to hear your voice. Can you recall where we finally had our first conversation? With love, Copia

Finishing the note, you couldn't contain the excitement that had taken hold of you. Biting your lower lip, you pondered whether to take the biretta with you as a tangible connection to Copia. However, a decision was made to leave it on the altar, preserving the memory of your shared moments within the chapel.

As you walked away from the altar, your steps guided you toward the front door of the chapel. Exiting, you embarked on your way back to the place where your initial conversations with Copia had unfolded—the cafeteria.

The first conversation with Copia might not have been a grand affair, but it held a charm of its own. On that day, a lighthearted encounter in the cafeteria set the stage for a connection that would deepen over time.

It was a morning like any other, as you queued up to grab your breakfast. Unbeknownst to you, Copia entered the line right after you, standing behind. The comical twist came when both of you reached for the last juice box simultaneously, your hands meeting in the process. With a shared chuckle, Copia secured the juice box and extended it to you in a gentle gesture. However, you playfully declined, insisting he had reached for it first. It was a simple exchange marked by a twist of routine, as the juice box wasn't your first morning choice. But at this morning, for some reason, it was.

Entering the deserted cafeteria, your gaze was drawn to a familiar spot. Heading towards the food line, you spotted Copia's Cardinal gloves neatly placed, accompanied by a lone juice box. Placing your hand on top of the gloves, you ran your fingers over the lather textured fabric, and to your surprise, a slight sound echoed. Curiosity piqued, you picked up one of the gloves, discovering a folded paper tucked inside. Retrieving the concealed note, you unfolded it, eager to unveil the next message Copia had left for you.

Your voice, it's like the sweetest melody I've ever known. And when you laugh, it's like a warm embrace for my heart. I want you to know how much I cherish that moment when you chose that juice box on that fateful day, and your generosity in leaving it for me didn't go unnoticed. So now, I'm saving one just for you. Our talk that day may not have been long, but little did we know, it would set the stage for more conversations between us. We became friends, and over time, I found myself falling in love with you. And then, summoning every ounce of courage, I finally told you about my feelings. Do you still recall that day? Do you remember where I bared my heart and told you I loved you? Don't forget the juice box, Copia

A chuckle escaped you as you finished reading the note, and you couldn't help but be amused by Copia's playful hints. Reaching for the juice box, you deftly removed the straw from the back, unwrapping it before inserting it into the box. Taking a sip, a smile played on your lips as memories flooded back. The taste of the juice box held a unique significance, as his kisses, sometimes tasted like the very juice you were sipping.

Yet, this wasn't the time for sentimental reflections. Pushing aside those emotions, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the cafeteria, heading towards the next destination—the hallways. But not just any hallway, a specific one, guided by the clues Copia had left for you.

As time passed, the bond between you and Copia deepened. Your moments together became more frequent, and you discovered comfort in each other's presence. Sneaking into his Cardinal's cabinet became a routine, a chance to share the day, whether in conversation or in peaceful silence. In those quiet moments, the ease between you two reassured you that there was nothing to worry about.

The day Copia confessed his love for you was entirely unexpected. The two of you were strolling down the hallway en route to the library, where Copia needed to organize some archives. You offered him a helping hand, even though you were fairly certain he didn't require any assistance. Surprisingly, he accepted your offer.

As you walked together, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythmic sound of your synchronized footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his voice broke the silence, uttering three words that initially took a moment to register. After a brief pause, your mind comprehended—Copia had just said, "I love you."

And just as Copia had fallen in love, so had you.

Approaching the spot in the hallway where Copia had confessed his love, you noticed a folder lying on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, you discovered a paper tucked inside. Pulling out the note, you unfolded it, eager to read the words wrote by Copia, perhaps offering another clue in the unfolding mystery of this treasure hunt.

The confession just burst out of me, guided by an overwhelming desire to shout my love to the world. I thought I might regret it, but to my surprise, I didn't—never have. The day I confessed my love was also the day I kissed you. Though, regrettably, it didn't happen right then. Just as I spilled my feelings, some siblings showed up, and we hastily made our way to the library. The ensuing silence was the most agonizing I've ever endured in your presence. Saying "I love you" without hearing it back left me sweating beneath my cassock. Yet, when we finally left, you spoke those words at the very spot where we had our first kiss. Can you recall where that was? We're almost at the end of this little game, and your gift awaits there. I love you. I love you more than words can express. I wish I could whisper those three words to you every minute of my day, Copia

Taking a deep breath, you leaned against the cold marble wall in the hallway, feeling its chill against your back. That day, and the kiss you both shared, are etched in your memory. When he uttered those three words, your heart threatened to burst, and the inability to reciprocate immediately left you in a momentary desperation.

From that moment onward, not a day passed without both of you expressing your love for each other. Stepping away from the chilly wall, you eagerly headed towards the place where your love story began—the Cardinal's cabinet.

After leaving the library that day, both of you carried archives in your hands, enveloped in a shared silence. The synchronicity of your steps faltered, as his pace quickened, and you hurriedly followed him down the hallway to his cabinet. And as you both entered the cabinet, Copia remained silent, almost as if he were anticipating something.

As you closed the door behind you and confessed your love, Copia turned towards you, drawing his face closer, almost reaching the point of a kiss. Perplexingly, he paused, perhaps awaiting a cue. In your impatience, you closed the gap before he could, and both of you let the archives fall to the floor, embracing each other passionately.

Standing in front of his old cabinet's door, uncertainty lingered about whether it would swing open. You reached for the doorknob and found it unexpectedly open. Pushing it open, you stepped into the now vacant space, a testament to his transfer to Papa's office.

Looking around the room, nothing immediately caught your eye. Wandering around, you systematically checked every nook and cranny, rifling through drawers and inspecting empty shelves. The note remained elusive. It wasn't until you halted beside his table and glanced towards the door that you spotted the note, suspended by a piece of tape.

You placed the empty juice box on the top of his old desk, hurrying to the door with a smile. You took the note and unfolded it, eager to read the note left for you.

When those three words finally escaped your lips, an irresistible urge propelled me to kiss you immediately. Yet, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it a reciprocation or a repetition? However, as you closed the gap and our lips met, I understood, and the taste of that kiss is etched in my memory. We shared numerous kisses within the Ministry, especially in this cabinet. One night, you lingered with me until the late hours. I wrapped up my work, and just like any other day, I planted a goodnight kiss on your lips. However, that kiss took an unexpected turn, leading us somewhere else. In that place, we became one. Your gift awaits there, Copia

Opening the door to his old cabinet, you swiftly exited, closing it behind you with determination. Without a second thought, you knew it was time for your last stop—his old chambers.

The night referenced in the note held the memory of the evening you and Copia shared a heated kiss—an unforgettable moment when neither of you wanted to part. The unspoken desire lingering in that kiss set the stage for what felt like an inevitable path towards spending your first night together. Copia, sensing the shared passion, asked if you wanted to accompany him to his chambers.

Without hesitation, you accepted. As you both entered his chambers, your lips were already engaged in a fervent kiss. The desire between you two was palpable, prompting a delicate dance of undressing without breaking the kiss. As you both managed to shed your clothes, each second of separation filled with a longing that only intensified the desire.

On that night, as the note exposed, you and Copia became one. And it proved to be one of the most memorable and intimate nights you had ever shared with someone.

Approaching the door to his chambers, a soft glow of candlelight seeped through the narrow gap underneath. Your hand reached for the doorknob, and as you opened the door, the room revealed itself bathed in the gentle illumination of flickering candles. The ambiance was serene, with nothing out of place except for the impeccably made bed.

Stepping inside, you closed the door behind you, enveloping the room in a sense of intimacy. A warm smile graced your lips as you took a moment to survey the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since you last set foot in this space—since Copia ascended to the role of Papa Emeritus and subsequently moved to the Papal Apartment, inviting you to join him.

Approaching his neatly made bed, you noticed the final folded paper resting on top. Picking it up, you unfolded it with anticipation, ready to read the last message that Copia had left for you.

You, the most sinful creation molded by the skilled hands of our Dark Lord, leave me utterly enchanted. Every nuance of your body, every inch, every fragment, fuels an ever-growing love within me. It's almost surreal to think that Satan himself could have blessed me with you, but I express gratitude to him daily. This place holds the memories of our first time and countless others. It's where you truly became mine, and I became yours. I brought you here with the simple desire to reclaim you as mine once again. I promised you a gift, didn't I? So, why don't you turn around?

Finishing the note, you raised your head and turned your body, only to find Copia on his knees right behind you. A sweet smile adorned his face as he extended his hand toward you. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and you bit your lower lip to contain the emotions welling up within you.

Extending your hand to meet his, Copia delicately held it, placing a tender kiss on the back and brushing his nose against it. As he lifted his head to meet your gaze, parting his lips.

"We've been together for so many years," he began, his words laced with sentiment. "Countless memories, myriad places, and an abundance of moments that have woven our lives together. You've been the constant flame that has illuminated my heart, making each moment brighter and more meaningful. Your love has become the sacred devotion that binds me to you," with another tender kiss on the back of your hand, he continued, "I brought you here today because I want to recommit myself to you, to reclaim you as mine. And no, amore mio, I'm not talking about the physical aspect. Would you honor me with the privilege of marrying me?" he asked, his gaze sincere and filled with love.

"W-What?" you stammered, your eyes widening in surprise. "What did you just say?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting nervously. "I asked you if you want to... Eeh..." As he started to stand up from his knees, uncertainty painted his expression. "I- I... Maybe it's too soon, sì?" he questioned, his voice laced with a hint of self-doubt.

A stunned silence enveloped you as you processed what had just transpired—Copia had just proposed. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly felt his hands gently touching your face, cupping it, and turning it towards him. Your eyes locked, and in that intimate gaze, you could discern a subtle tremor in his usually composed demeanor.

"Copia..." you whispered, your voice soft as you closed your eyes.

"S-Sì?" His response held a hint of anticipation and nervousness.

"It's not too soon," a smile graced your lips as you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "You don't have to ask me twice; of course, I'll marry you."

"Vita mia..." he whispered, drawing his face closer to yours, hovering just inches away, teasing with the possibility of a kiss. "Are you attempting to assassinate your Papa at Christmas?"

You laughed, shaking your head gently. "Never," you replied. "You simply caught me off guard."

"Isn't that how marriage proposals should be?" he inquired, tilting his head, his thumbs tenderly caressing your cheeks.

"I guess?" you smiled, your gaze moving from his eyes to his inviting lips.

“I'm sure of it, amore,” he whispered, his lips brushing the corner of yours, "So, do your Papa get his Christmas kiss now, or should he expect for a mistletoe?"

You grinned, your eyes twinkling mischievously. “How about both?” Your lips hovered closer, the temptation growing with each passing moment. "Although I don't have a mistletoe with me right now..."

With a nearly imperceptible nod, Copia closed the lingering distance between you. His lips finally united with yours in a romantic, unhurried kiss, steeped in both longing and devotion. His hands cradled your face with tenderness, while your own settled at his waist, fingers grasping his shirt with a touch of possessiveness.

The kiss unfolded with a deliberate slowness, a dance of passion free from the urgency of teeth and tongues. It spoke volumes of a love so profound that words paled in comparison. As the connection deepened, you found yourself surrendering to the moment, lost in its enchantment.

The gentle caress of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His touch, gentle yet firm, prompted your arms to wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer as his own encircled your waist, holding you close. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating a comforting heat. The rhythmic thud of his heart against your chest resonated in harmony.

The sweetness of his mouth lingered, fueling a desire for more. Your arms left his neck, trailing down his back, pulling him in closer. His response was an intensified kiss, his tongue delicately exploring the contours of your mouth.

The connection deepened, an electric current coursing through your body. It felt as if an invisible force tethered you two, compelling a response. Your lips parted, allowing an intricate dance of tongues to unfold. As the intensity peaked, you summoned the strength to pull away, your fingers gradually tracing a path with your fingertips from his back to his chest.

"Copia..." the velvety tone of your voice wrapped around his name.

"Sì, amore mio?" He responded, gently.

"When did you arrive here?" You traced your fingers along the contours of his chest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Not a long time ago," he replied, his hands moving from your waist to your hips, drawing you in closer.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric around his neck, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "So you planned all of this?"

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "Euhh... Sì..."

A mock expression of anger crossed your face as you accused, "So you knew you'd be at the Ministry, and you lied to me!"

"Oh, amore mio," he chuckled, leaning his face closer to yours once again. "I wasn't certain about the exact time I'd arrive. I needed to be sure I could make it work. But It was a good reason to lie, sì?"

"How long have you been planning this?" you inquired in a soft tone.

Copia turned to you, the smile still gracing his face. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time. Since I realized how you make my dark world brighter, and I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. I can't wait to spend the rest of my existence making you as happy as you make me."

"Copia, I'm already happy by your side," you murmured. "But, you know," you began, tracing circles on his chest with your fingertips, "you're not getting away with proposing without answering some important questions."

Copia grinned, his eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at you. "Ask away, vita mia."

"Firstly," you said, feigning a serious tone, "how did you manage to plan all this without me catching a single hint? I thought I knew all your secrets."

Copia chuckled, his thumb gently caressing your hand. "A Papa Emeritus always has a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Nice answer," a giggle escaped from your lips. "Secondly, was this grand proposal plan your own masterpiece, or did your brothers offer their expert opinions?"

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "As much as I'd love to credit Primo, Secondo and Terzo with impeccable romantic taste, this plan was all mine. I wanted it to be special, just for us. However, they helped me to gain some time."

"They did what?" You laughed. "Smooth, Papa. Very smooth. Now, the last and most crucial question—did you rehearse your proposal lines in front of a mirror?"

"Oh!" Copia's expression shifted to a mockingly serious tone. "Absolutely not!" He followed it with a playful chuckle. "Eh, maybe just a little?"

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. "A little?"

"Well, every great performance deserves a bit of rehearsal, sì?" Copia grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Vieni qui, amore mio," he gently pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together, and took your lips in another kiss.

This time, the kiss was deeper and passionate. Copia's touch ignited a fire within you. His hands explored your body with a hunger. Fingers traced sensuous patterns along your sides, dipped down to your hips, and returned to the curve of your waist. Copia's arms enveloped you, pulling you close as if he couldn't get enough of the taste, the touch, the essence of you.

As a soft moan escaped your lips, Copia's tongue danced with yours in a passionate exploration. Your arms tightened around his neck, and you responded eagerly, deepening the connection. Copia sighed into the kiss, his head tilting to intensify the intimate dance. Your tongues met in a heated battle, and he groaned against your lips.

Once again, Copia's hands roamed your body, trailing along your spine and tracing the contours of your curves. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Your bodies molded together seamlessly, and every sensation became a blur of pleasure. Copia's lips moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

The kiss intensified, and a symphony of moans, sighs, and the occasional purr resonated between you. Copia's breath mingled with yours, creating an intoxicating match of lust. The kiss became a fusion of desire and longing, that left you breathless and craving more.

But with a reluctant sigh, you summoned the strength to pull away—gasping for air. Your lips lingering for a moment longer before parting. The air crackled with the energy of the heated kiss, and Copia's eyes, still darkened with desire, met yours.

"S-Should we head upstairs...?" you inquired, your breath catching.

Copia's eyes, clouded with desire, met yours as he caught his breath. "As much as I'd love to, amore mio," he murmured, "I've missed you so much, and if we go upstairs, I won't be able to contain myself in the middle of the way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "Oh, so you're saying you'd lose control?"

Copia's grin widened, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. "Entirely. I'm just a Papa who's been missing his better half."

"So why don't you fuck me right here, on your own bed, like you've missed me so much?"

Copia's eyes deepened with desire, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he fixed his gaze on you. Mischief flickered in his mismatched eyes. "Are you absolutely certain about what you're asking?" he inquired, his voice taking on a husky tone.

"I'm well aware of what I'm asking for," you whispered, trailing your tongue from his lips to the tip of his nose.

"Cazzo, ti amo così tanto," he murmured with a voice heavy with desire.

Copia enveloped you in his arms, and you guided him towards his bed. Grasping the fabric around his neck, you pulled him with you until your calves met the mattress. Sensing it, you gradually descended, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Copia positioned himself on his knees in front of you, maintaining an unwavering gaze. Without diverting his eyes, he initiated the task of undressing you, deliberately unhurried in his movements.

As he finished undressing you, leaving you only in your underwear, he planted a tender peck on your lips. "Don't move," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of lustful anticipation.

Copia rose, beginning to work on unbuttoning his shirt, but he halted abruptly as you drew your face closer to his crotch, lightly brushing your lips against his evident bulge. You turned your attention to him, mouthing the undoing of his pants, causing Copia to inhale sharply, biting his lower lip. His hand found its way to your head, gently caressing your scalp, and he knelt in front of you once again.

Copia's eyes glinted with a playful intensity as he whispered, his voice tinged with lust, "You're behaving like a very naughty mischief-maker. I don't think Santa will give you a present this year."

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you reached up, cupping his face in your hand and gently caressing his cheek. "And what about you, Papa?" you asked, your tone a sultry invitation. "Will you give me a present?"

Copia's gaze held yours, a hint of desire dancing in his eyes. "Oh, amore mio," he replied, his voice a seductive murmur, "I have a present for you that Santa could never deliver."

He drew closer, pressing his face against your neck, initiating a series of kisses and gentle licks. In that moment, a rush of anticipation surged within you as he drew near. His lips sought yours in a kiss that blended gentleness with passion. His tongue traced the curves of your mouth, hinting at the pleasure yet to unfold. Eagerly, your lips parted, inviting him in, and a tantalizing dance ensued as your tongues entwined, orchestrating a sensuous tango that erased the world around you.

Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and you gracefully reclined on your back, maintaining the kiss without breaking its spell. Copia, crawled on top of you, his movements deliberate and confident.

His body seamlessly melding with yours in a flawless union. With each movement, the fabric of his clothes provided no resistance to the warmth of his skin. The linen material of his shirt glided between your bodies, generating a sensuous friction that intensified every touch and caress.

The weight of his body upon yours provided both comfort and arousa. Arching against him, you yearned for increased contact and friction. His hands delicately explored every curve and crevice of your body, leaving a lingering trail of electricity in their wake.

Breaking the kiss, he shifted his attention to nibble on your neck, the sensation of his stubble grazing against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine. His lips returned to yours, and as his hand descended, it cupped your ass, drawing you closer. The friction of his hardness against your mound became almost intoxicating. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as he deepened the connection.

The rhythm of his hips synchronized with the beat of your heart. His fingers skillfully navigated between you two, indulging in delicate touches on your thighs before ascending higher. His palm grazed your warmth through your underwear, eliciting a gasp that sent tickles of pleasure coursing through your body. Fingers tightly gripped his hair as you held him close, writhing beneath him, yearning for more of his intoxicating touch.

As if sensing your desires, Copia broke the kiss. "Amore mio, I want to feel you," his lips traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, nibbling your earlobe. "Do you want me to to make you cum, amore? Do you want me to make you scream my name?" His fingers deftly slid beneath the fabric of your underwear, gently stroking your clit, igniting a fire of sensation that left you breathless.

Eagerly nodding your head, your hips instinctively bucked, your core pulsating against his skilled fingers. Copia chuckled devilishly at your response. With your back arching, an unspoken invitation, he seized the opportunity, lifting you just enough to deftly slip off your underwear.

"You're so wet," he murmured. "I can feel how much you want me."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, and with a sense of urgency, you reached down to stroke him through his jeans. A deep groan escaped Copia's lips, the resonant sound vibrating through you, heightening the anticipation. Copia, attuned to your needs, returned his hand to your wetness, trailing his gloved fingers along your slit before skillfully sliding one finger inside of you. The sensation ignited a surge of pleasure, causing your inner walls to clench in response.

Moaning, you found it difficult to articulate words as Copia withdrew his finger from inside you, tracing a teasing path along your wet slit. The sensation left you aching for more. He slid one gloved finger inside you again, followed by another, filling you in a way that made your toes curl with pleasure. The initial slow and deliberate movements gave way to a faster, harder rhythm as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped, grabbing his hand as it ventured between your thighs. "yes-yes-yes-yes! Just-Ah! Copia! Calm down, or you'll make me cum fast!"

"Calm down?" he inquired, his gaze filled with desire. "I'm perfectly composed, amore. Just doing as instructed, fucking you like I've been missing you."

Your moans intensified, head tossed back, hips gyrating against his hand. Introducing a third finger, he expanded you further, evoking a cry from your lips. Copia skillfully curled his fingers, striking your sweet spot, unleashing waves of pleasure that caused your eyes to roll back and your lips to part. Gripping his shoulders, you dug your nails into him as he persistently worked his fingers in and out of you.

"CoO-Oh-pia!" your voice quivered, your legs beginning to tremble. "Co...Co...Copia-Ah! Ple-Plea...Please!"

He instinctively lowered his body, withdrawing his fingers from you. Swiftly, his face moved between your legs, engulfing your essence with an eager pull, consuming every inch with his mouth. From the base to the summit and back down, he licked you in a rhythmic repetition. He repeated this motion over and over, sucking your clit as he did so.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut. "For the love of Satan, Copia!"

Copia chuckled against your wetness, then closed his eyes and placed his hands on your thighs, keeping them open for him. He persisted in licking and sucking, his tongue darting in and out, exploring every inch of your wetness. Advancing to your clit, he flicked it with the tip of his tongue before drawing it into his mouth once more.

Drawing his head back from your core, you gasped, feeling the absence of sensations. As you opened your eyes, you were met with his smudged face, the paint around his lips almost turning gray. Casting a mischievous glance at you, Copia darted his tongue out, licking your slit while locking eyes with you. The intense gaze prompted you to bite your lower lip in response.

"You're quite the sight, Copia," you teased.

"Trying to provoke me, amore?" he asked with a husky voice, lowering his face to your wetness once again, his lips grazing against your folds. "Ever heard that it's not polite to make fun of someone while they're enjoying their meal? Consider this my Christmas dinner. Don't tempt me too much, or you might find yourself the messy one here soon."

Wearing a devilish grin, he licked his lips, relishing the taste of you. Unable to resist, a smile played on your lips as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your core. Copia's eyes focused on your face, studying your features. Suddenly, a low groan escaped his lips, and he delved back into devouring your wetness with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue danced around your clit, prompting you to writhe in ecstasy. The fervor of his licks sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

"C-Copia... I swear, you're going to make me cum..." you whimpered.

"No, I won't," he declared, withdrawing his head from your core. "Because you're only allowed to cum on my cock and with my cock inside you, capito?"

You nodded, and Copia smirked. Unexpectedly, he thrust his tongue inside you, skillfully swirling it around your walls. A whimper escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. Your hips arched from the bed, and you ground your core against his face, sliding your clit up and down his nose. With one hand, you reached to grab his head, pressing it firmly against your core. Copia intensified his exploration of your wetness, rolling his eyes in pleasure, breathing warmly against your entrance. The sensation of his breath caused your legs to tremble.

You slid your hand to the top of his head, gently pulling it away as you shifted your hips back. Copia, undeterred, pulled you back towards him, gripping your thighs tightly. Leaving one hand on your thigh, he ventured with the other to your core, thrusting two gloved fingers inside you. A scream escaped your lips at the sensation of his fingers filling you, only to be followed by another cry as his thumb found your clit, skillfully rubbing it in circles, sending waves of pleasure that drove you wild.

"No! Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your breath coming fast. "Copia, please... you know I can't hold it if you do it like that."

Maintaining his fingers inside you, he gracefully positioned himself atop you, his face hovering above yours. His knees pressed against your legs, parting them for him. Your gaze met his, and he gently rested his forehead against yours. You tilted your face, capturing a tender kiss from his lips, all the while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't play naughty, amore," he growled. "Behave, and you just might unwrap your present."

"P-Present...? Ah!" you gasped. "What present, Papa?"

"My cock, fucking you the way you like it," he whispered huskily.

He persisted, his fingers maintaining a steady rhythm as they moved in and out of you. Your orgasm was steadily building, and you could feel your juices flowing, coating his gloved fingers as they expertly maneuvered inside of you. A loud moan escaped your lips, prompting him to intensify the pace of his fingers, thrusting deeper and faster. The room echoed with the sound of his leather gloves sliding inside you, merging with the symphony of your breath.

This sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you knew you were close, but Copia abruptly halted, withdrawing his fingers. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, yearning for more, craving the continued touch.

"Please, don't stop," you begged, your voice quivering with desire.

Copia smirked, "You want more?"

"Yes..." you purred, "please."

Copia's smile deepened, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and mischief. "Not yet," he declared, his voice low. "I want to make it last."

His fingers traced a tantalizing path along your inner thighs, eliciting shivers of anticipation. Moving his hand between your legs, his fingers found your wetness once again. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your breath now coming in short gasps.

"Stop teasing me," you pleaded. "I need your cock."

Copia grinned devilishly, his hands reaching for your legs as he pulled back, getting on his knees in front of you. "Do you, amore?" He went for his pants, starting to undo them, letting his length swing free. "You want my cock?" he asked, using his gloved hand—still coated with your juices—to stroke his member lazily.

"Yes!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on the glistening tip of his member. "Please, I ache for your cock inside me."

Copia bit his lower lip while stroking his length, the wetness on his palm audibly spreading along his arousal. He began to breathe heavily and closed his eyes. Sensing the charged atmosphere, you slowly slid your hand between your legs, teasing your clit with circular motions.

Trying to stifle your moans, you pressed your lips together and whimpered, observing him pleasing himself in front of you. Continuing to tease your clit, you couldn't resist any longer, sliding two fingers inside yourself. Arching your back, you moaned loud as you began thrusting them in and out, succumbing to the pleasure building within you.

Copia's voice reached your ears, prompting you to open your eyes. "What are you doing?" he inquired.

Your eyes locked onto Copia's, who had a look of pure satisfaction on his face. Seeing your own enjoyment reflected in his expression. You increased the pace, moving your fingers faster and deeper, the sensations becoming too much to handle. You could feel your body tingling with pleasure, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would succumb to the intense sensations.

"Why are you playing with my dinner?" He adopted a more serious tone, grabbing your hand to stop you.

"C-Copia..." you took a deep breath. "I just need... I need you..."

Copia sighed, shaking his head, skillfully guiding his member between your folds as he pulled your fingers out of your entrance. You instinctively moved your hips, as if craving more, attempting to adjust your entrance to the tip of his length. However, Copia halted you, placing a firm hand on your stomach and gently lowering your hips.

"No..." Copia murmured, firmly holding his member and delivering a teasing slap against your wetness, the sound resonating through the room. "Comportati."

Copia sensually brought your fingers to his mouth, licking and mouthing them with a moan that echoed softly. As his mouth closed around your fingers, his tongue skillfully contoured them, creating an arousing suction. Meanwhile, he increased the pace of his self-stimulation, moving his hips in a rhythmic thrust against his own hand. The tip of his member collided with your heat, expertly rubbing against your clit.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth with a distinct "pop" sound and gave them a final lick, locking eyes with you. "Turn for me, amore," he commanded, tapping your waist.

Obediently, you turned your body, laying down on your stomach, but swiftly, Copia gripped your waist, pulling your hips up to meet his. The sensation of his member pressed against you ignited a fervent response, and you began to move your hips, stealing a glance at him behind you. Unperturbed, Copia started removing his gloves, an act that hinted at his effort to restrain himself.

As he peeled off his gloves, his bare hands reached for your hips, sensually caressing them. "So desperate for me, amore," he whispered. "I love it when you're like that."

"Please, Copia," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you. Fuck me."

His eyes darkened with desire as he observed your hips moving against him. Biting his lip, he struggled to maintain control but succumbed to the overwhelming temptation. His hands found their way to your back, skillfully massaging away the tension from your muscles. The touch was firm yet gentle, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. His hand glided down the small of your back, cupping one of your ass cheeks in his palm.

"I want you too," his hands shifted to your hips, pulling them closer to him.

His hardness pressed more insistently against you as he drew himself closer. "Fuck me, Copia."

With a groan, Copia pressed his hardness against your entrance. You were so wet that he slid in easily, filling you completely with one thrust. A moan escaped your lips, your body arching back into him. Copia began to move slowly, savoring the sensation of being inside you. Your body felt like heaven, and he wanted to make the experience last as long as possible. His hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he moved within you.

Copia, his voice low and filled with a seductive rasp, whispered, "Feel the pleasure, my sinful muse, as our bodies intertwine," he smiled and began to move faster. "Like an offering to the darkness that binds us," he continued, slamming into you with each trust. "Every moan, every gasp, a hymn in the name our unholy communion on this unholy night."

You gasped at his words, gripping the sheets firmly as Copia picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through you, his length hitting your cervix repeatedly, delving deeper with every movement. He lowered his body on top of yours, reaching for your hands to hold them firmly. Pressing kisses on your cheek, he traced a path from there to your back, leaving a trail of sensation in his wake.

"Yes, Copia... Mmm... Copia," you purred, your eyes closing as you held his hand in a firm grip. "Oh, yes, just like that! You fuck me so good."

"You're so tight," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I can't help but fuck you harder."

Your bodies moved in unison, a dance of perfect harmony. His hips slammed against your ass cheeks, the rhythmic sound filling the room and intertwining with your shared breaths and moans. His hands left yours, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you firmly against him. The sensation of his hardness sliding in and out of you was incredible, and you were lost in pleasure, the loud moans that came out of your mouth became unable to control.

"Pap-Ahhh..." you moaned, your eyes fluttering in pleasure as you felt his steady rhythm, his member sliding in and out of your tightness with ease.

His thrusts quickened, the audible sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing louder. Copia released his arms from around you, straightening his body. Temporarily halting his thrusts, he moved his hands to his shirt, skillfully unbuttoning it. Turning your head to watch, you clenched your walls around him, the anticipation building as his body was slowly revealed. His hairy chest formed a trail of masculinity down to his happy trail, prompting you to bite your lower lip.

Fueled by lust, you seized control, slamming your hips against him and taking charge of the rhythm, fucking yourself on his length. Copia let out a guttural growl, tearing off his shirt and tossing it aside. His hands returned to your hips, and he watched you intently as you moved your hips against his.

"Sì, sì, sì," he moaned. "Sì-Ah! Amore mio, you're amazing, so perfect for me, so eager," his fingers digging into your skin. "So hot, so wet, so tight, so incredibly beautiful as you ride my cock."

His eyes brimmed with lust, the hunger evident in their depths. His hands on your hips guided your movements as he started to move his own hips against yours. Abruptly, he pulled back, eliciting a whimper of emptiness from you as your hips fell onto the bed. Rising from the bed, he swiftly pulled his pants down, leaving them discarded on the floor.

Copia returned to the bed, crawling on top of you. Lowering his face onto the top of your back, he pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder and cheek. "Are you ready to cum for me, amore?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your cheek.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a silent understanding passing between you as you nodded. Copia responded with a smirk, supporting his hands on the bed, lifting his body. Skillfully moving his hips, he adjusted his position behind you and effortlessly guided his member back inside you, delving even deeper.

The moment he entered you, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You felt his shaft stretching you to the limit, filling every inch of your body with his warmth. The sensation was overwhelming as he began to move inside you, each thrust sending waved of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Make me cum," you purred. "And fill me with your cum, Papa."

Continuing his rhythmic motions, he clutched the sheets for leverage. You pressed your hips against him, mirroring the increasing intensity of his pace. Your body responded eagerly to the sensations he crafted. His breathing grew heavier, each exhale carrying a sense of urgency, and his movements became more intense and erratic.

"I'm going to cum, amore," he announced. "I'm going to fill your tight, warm pussy."

You could feel his member pulsing inside you, and then, with a final thrust, he released himself within you. The sensation of his seed filling you up sent you over the edge. Your body trembled as the waves of your orgasm washed over you. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing against you as you both caught your breath, your bodies shuddering in the aftermath of pleasure.

Copia delicately withdrew from your body, a lingering trace of his essence left behind. Reclining beside you, his body turned towards yours, he extended a gentle hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb. A weary smile adorned your face, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

With closed eyes, you slowly shifted towards him, seeking proximity. Copia encircled his arms around you, pulling you closer. His forehead parted from yours, planting a tender kiss on it. As you bit your lip, your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with a mix of emotions.

"I love you," he declared, his eyes brimming with adoration.

"I love you more," you playfully countered.

"That's impossible, amore mio," he chuckled. "After all, it was I who proposed to you tonight, so that means I love you more."

"Does it?" you began, adopting a teasing tone. "But Copia, if you proposed to me, where's the... ring?" you chuckled.

"Uh... Eh!" With a confidant grin, he turned his back to you reaching for his pants on the floor, delving into his pants' pocket. He pulled it out with his hand closed, turning his body back to your direction. With a theatrical flair, he opened his hand, revealing the ring nestled in his palm. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed, a glint of triumph in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escaped you as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss onto his lips. Copia reciprocated by reaching for your hand, bringing it closer to his face and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of your hand. His touch was gentle yet deliberate as he delicately slipped the ring onto your finger. As the ring found its place, a radiant smile adorned his lips, and his eyes sparkled with joy as he admired the newly adorned hand.

"Well, I guess that means we're stuck with each other now," you said, a warm smile playing on your lips.

"Forever, amore," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and affection. Leaning in for another kiss, he paused just before closing the gap.

Yearning for him to close the gap, your hand goes to his face, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "What's wrong?"

His eyes sparkled with adoration as he caressed the back of your hand. He stared at you in silence for a moment, you can see his eyes tracing the features of your face “I'm really in love with you," a wide smile start to grew on is lips. "Merry Christmas, my soon-to-be forever partner."

And then, with that, Copia closed the gap between you two, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both sweet and slow. The taste lingered, carrying the feeling of the shared promise of forever.

Grammar

Amore (mio) - My love

Per favore, mi dispiace - Please, I'm sorry

Ti amo così tanto - I love you so much

Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti - Group of old, grumpy idiots

Fratello - Brother

Stai zitto - Be quiet

Vecchi - Old

Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame - Let's eat, I'm starving

Vero - True

Sì - Yes

Certo - Certainly

Non preoccuparti - Don't worry

Buona notte - Good night

Bene, molto bene - Well, very well

Buona fortuna - Good luck

Vita mia - My life

Vieni qui, amore mio - Come here, my love

Capito? - Understood?

Comportati - Behave

390 notes · View notes

callsign-dexter · 8 months

Text

Taming the Flame 18+

Request: Ahhhh I LOVE THE CHICAGO UNIVERSE SO MUCH! Too many hotties at once haha 🤤How about some love for Kelly Severide where you're working at Ambo 61 for years now and Kelly always tried getting your attention but you never let it get to you as you know about him being a Womanizer and you don't wanna be one of his chicks. One time as he sees you getting closer with some guy you met at Molly's and he even comes to the firehouse he can't take it anymore and he grabs you, kissing you with all the passion and you end up sleeping together in his quarters. Then you cuddle and he tells you that he's serious, and something in your mind tells you to believe him, so you do? 😊🙊

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

First Installment- Taming The Flame

Second Installment- Sizzling Heat

Masterlist

A/N: @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms I hope you're prepared for some Kelly Severide smut.....

For as long as you could remember you have always worked with Kelly Severide at Firehouse 51 and worked on Ambo 61. You loved your job and the people that worked there, one in particular and that would be the man himself but you always kept your feelings a secret. For years Kelly had been trying to make you jealous and get you to notice him and it had worked but you just didn’t let it show. When you both had to do a task and had to be partnered up, he would always volunteer to be your partner and you weren’t complaining in the least bit.

Both of your shifts were just about to start. You had pulled up at the same time as he did and smiled and shook your head. You killed the engine and so did he. He got out at the same time as you did. “Good morning, beautiful.” He said while grabbing his bag and you did the same

“Morning, Kelly.” You replied back and you two began walking into the firehouse.

“When are you going to let me take you on a date?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Never.” You said somewhat meaning it and he frowned.

“Why not?” He asked

“You know why.” You said and he raised an eyebrow and you just shook your head and headed to go and get changed. Leaving a confused Kelly standing there. When you got there Sylvie, Stella, and Gabby were getting dressed as well.

“Good morning.” You said and they smiled.

“Good morning.” They replied at the same time.

“How was your time off?” Gabby asked

“It was wonderful. Got to sleep in and catch up with Jay and Will.” You said and they smiled and nodded. Jay and Will were your childhood friends and you all considered each other family. “How was your guy's time off?” You asked.

“It was good. Did some shopping and laid around.” Sylvie said and you smiled.

“Antonio and I had some brother and sister bonding but other than that nothing.” Gabby said just then the bell rang and everyone was rushing out to their respective vehicles and everyone was off.

When you got to the scene it was 4 car pileups so it was all hands-on deck. Gabby, Sylvie, and you worked in unison making sure the people that needed help were directed over to somewhere and the others that didn’t need as much help were grouped together. “Someone! Please help me! My child is stuck!” A woman shouted and that made you shoot up and head over to the black sedan you looked in and saw the child was unconscious. You turned to the mother.

“Ma’am just be calm and I’m gonna get some help opening this door.” You said seeing as the door where the kid was crushed in and from what you could see the car had hit it and then another car crashed into it and pushed it away. You turned and looked to see who was free and spotted Kelly “Severide! I need you!” You yelled out and that got his attention and he was quick to come rushing to your side along with some other members. “Door is stuck and won’t open. I need to get the boy as soon as possible.” You said and he nodded.

“You got it.” He said and he turned to give orders in the meantime you were in the front seat trying to assess the injuries as best as you could. You turned to the woman.

“What is your son’s name?” You asked

“Jake his name is Jake.” She said frantically and you smiled and nodded.

“Jake, can you hear me?” You asked and he groaned a little bit and that made you smile and he slowly opened his eyes “That’s it. My name is Y/N and I’m here to help you.” You said and he just stared at you “Kelly?” You asked.

“Just 5 more seconds.” He said and you nodded.

“Just hold on, Jake.” You said and then you heard the door coming off and then you were getting out and going to the little boy. “Does anything hurt?” You asked.

“My arm and chest.” He said quietly and you smiled and nodded. “Where is my mom?” He asked

“I’m right here baby. This nice paramedic is going to help you.” She said and you smiled.

“Can I feel around?” You asked him and he nodded and you did so. He whimpered when you pressed his arm and around his chest. “Ok, it looks like you may have broken your arm and the seatbelt sure did its job. We’re gonna get you out of here and looked at.” You said while placing a c-collar on him.

“I’m right behind you.” Kelly said and cut the boy loose and you were moving him onto the gurney supplied by another firehouse. You rattled off the boy's condition and Kelly was just looking at you in amazement. He had liked no loved you from the moment you two had met and he wanted to be with you but he was still in his running around and sleeping around stage but after a few months he finally realized he loved you and slowed down. Now when he does it, it was to make you jealous or grab your attention but you knew him and his history of women. So, when he tried to flirt with you, you just brushed him off. He has made it his mission to get you to notice him and go out with him and maybe that would lead to some other things. It wasn't a secret that he liked you since he flirted with you nonstop, you loved it but didn't let it get you because he is a womanizer and you didn't want to be added to the list. You didn't want to be the next hook up and then he was onto the next.

The pileup was cleared and cleaned up and everyone was headed back to the station. You had dropped off the patients that you needed to. It only took 4 hours to get everything sorted out. When the trucks and ambulance was back you took the liberty of cleaning the ambulance and restocking, you claimed that it calmed you down after a call and it was satisfying. As you were doing this and lost in your own world you didn't hear Kelly walk up. “You're so sexy when you're working you know that?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Sure I am.” You said, glancing at him.

“You are.” He said and you rolled your eyes and turned back to what you were doing and a smile came across your face.

“Ok, Kel.” You said using the nickname that you're only allowed to use for him. He was about to say something else but Casey called out his name and Kelly looked disappointed that he would have to leave you.

“I'll talk to you later, beautiful.” He said and turned to walk away and you turned and watched him.

You really didn't get a chance to talk to him again because either Squad 3 was called out or Ambulance 61 was. It seemed like Ambulance 61 was being called out a lot, as soon as you got back from a call you were being called to another place.

You finally got a break just 3 hrs before your shift ended and you were exhausted. As soon as you pulled into the bay and had gotten out, he was meeting you. “About time you're back. I was having a Y/N withdrawal.” He said and you tried to blush with an eye roll.

“I'm sure you were thinking about all the other women that are falling at your feet.” You said and he shook his head.

“No, you're the only one I want.” He said

“Sure, Kelly. Are you coming to Molly's after shift?” You asked changing the subject and he nodded.

“Only if you are.” He said and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yea, I'm going. I need a few drinks after this hellacious day.” You said and he chuckled.

The rest of the shift you were cleaning, filling out paperwork, and just overall hoping another call doesn't come your way. You don't look up until Kelly is standing right in front of you. “Ready to go?” He asked and you looked at your watch and nodded.

“Yes please. I'll be happy to get out of here for a few days.” You said��

“You and me both.” He said and after you got changed and headed to your car and him to his truck you two talked. Before you knew it you were following him to Molly's and parking beside him. Most of everyone else was there with you guys so it was gonna be a fun night.

You walked in and immediately saw Intelligence and some of Med there. Then you spotted Will and Jay and walked over to them. “Hey.” You said and hugged them and they hugged you back. “Did we miss anything?” You asked and they shook their heads.

“Nope it's just been boring but now that you and 51 one is it's gonna get interesting.” Will said with a smile and you rolled your eyes and pushed him.

“Oh hush.” You said and then gave the bartender your order and it was quick to arrive. The night was spent with you mingling about and gossiping with the girls from Intelligence, Med, and 51. You scanned the bar and found Kelly talking with some blonde headed woman who only wanted one thing and seemed to enjoy it and you rolled your eyes and turned back to your conversation. You loved him, you really did but you couldn't be with him especially since he loves to hook up with random women.

“What's with the face?” Hailey asked and you raised an eyebrow.

“What look?” You asked and then scanned again and still found Kelly in the same position.

“That look.” Kim said they looked where you were looking and suddenly understood.

“It’s nothing guys really.” You said not taking your eyes away from Kelly.

“You have nothing to worry about. He is absolutely in love with you. You really have tamed the flame of Kelly Severide.” Gabby said and you scoffed and looked at her.

“Yeah right. I’m gonna get another beer. Anybody want anything?” You asked and they shook their heads and you took it as your que to get up and walk to the bar. When you got to the bar you had to wait for a few minutes and that gave enough time for a guy to come over and sit down next to you.

“Now what is a beautiful girl doing up here all alone?” He said and you turned to look at him. He was a doctor, law enforcement, firefighter, or paramedic. He had dark brown hair and honey-colored eyes. You smiled at him.

“Just trying to get a drink. I’m here with some work friends.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“What is it that you do?” He asked and you smiled and you thought that it would be nice to talk to someone outside of the firehouse.

“I’m a paramedic for Firehouse 51.” You said and he smiled.

“I’m Chad.” He said and then waved down the bartender.

“I’m Y/N.” You replied and then the bartender arrived.

“What can I get the two of you?” She asked

“I need another Coors Light and whatever this beautiful woman is having. Put it on my tab.” He said smoothly. You told her what you were drinking and she got the drinks for you and then you decided to stay and talk to this handsome stranger that goes by the name of Chad.

“You should come down to the station sometime. I’m off tomorrow and the next two days and then working again.” You said and he nodded.

“I will most certainly do that.” He said and the night just continued on. That night Chad made you forget about Kelly and you had a great time and you even went home with him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kelly wasn't having a good time. He was just coming over to get a drink and this random girl walked over and started chatting with him. Every now and then he would do a sweep over the bar and find you laughing and having a good time with Kim, Hailey, Gabby, Stella, and Sylvie and when he saw you laughing, he smiled. He turned back to his conversation smiling thinking of you, when he looked up, he caught your eye and his smile faded as he saw the look on his face. He was only interested in you and only you.

The next time he looked up you saw you at the bar and he was about to walk over to you but a guy beat him to it. He watched you interact with this guy and actually smile. The girl that came up to him was long forgotten and when he stopped paying attention to her, she huffed and stormed off. Now he had to stand there and watch you hit it off with Chad.

Kelly was jealous and he hated that feeling. It should be him over there with you. You should be with him. His mood had soured for the rest of the night and he turned down any other women that came up to him. He wanted you and only you. You were perfect for him. What tipped him off was when you left with Chad and he didn't see you for the rest of the night.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Over the course of the days, you were off you enjoyed some alone time and some time with Chad. It turns out he worked as a school teacher and he loved his job. Of course, you two had some fun together but it was never really serious because you loved Kelly. Over the days you were off you had lunch with Chad and it was great and you loved spending time with him. What you didn’t know was that Kelly just happened to be at the same little restaurant and noticed you and Chad and grew increasingly jealous because he wanted that to be him with you and not Chad. He just sighed and reminded himself that you both would be back at work tomorrow and then he would have you all to himself and nobody could steal you away from him.

You sighed as you pulled into the parking lot of the station and not a second later Kelly’s truck was pulling up next to you. You smiled and then got out as he did. “Good morning.” You said and he turned to look at you and gave you a nod and then walked off into the station an eyebrow raised but you shook it off and got your mind into work mode. You greeted the other crew as they were leaving and then greeted some of the others on shift with you. Not a word from Kelly and he hadn’t been seen and that worried you but you let it slide and started your shift. Right as soon as you got your outfit changed and stuff put away the bell rang for Ambulance 61 and that had you running and joining Gabby and Sylvie and you were off to the call. You looked out the window and saw Kelly looking at you but you couldn’t read his face but there was a slight frown. The call was easy and it didn’t take too long and you were back at the station in time. Gabby parked and everyone got out and you went into the kitchen to grab something to drink and you ran into Kelly. “Hey.” You said and he turned around and gave you a smile.

“Hey.” He said but it was short.

“Are you ok?” You asked and he nodded and then continued on what he was doing and you sighed. “Did I do something?” You asked and he jerked and looked at you.

“No, absolutely not. You did nothing wrong.” He said and that made you confused.

“Then why didn’t you talk to me this morning or why did I not see you until we got that call?” You asked curious.

“Trust me it is not you. It really is me. Y/N you have to understand that-” He began when Herrmann called your name and appeared into the kitchen.

“There is a Chad here for you.” He said and you nodded and gave Kelly one last look and headed to greet him. Kelly stood there for a few minutes with Herrmann.

“You love her, don’t you?” He asked and Kelly nodded.

“I do.” Kelly replied

“Then do something about it.” Herrmann said and Kelly nodded and watched his coworker walk away. That gave him time to think. He did love you and he wanted to be with you and only you. He had made up his mind and walked out of the kitchen and to where you were. He saw you laughing with Chad and that made his jealous rear its head and take control of his body. Kelly walked up with you with so much confidence, he gently spun you around and smashed his lips into yours in a hot passionate kiss that you were quick to return leaving Chad there stunned. After a minute or so a throat was being cleared and you broke apart and looked over at Chad.

“I think it is best if you go.” Kelly said and he nodded.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He awkwardly said.

“No, you won’t.” Kelly said and then started to drag you to his quarters. When you got there you were about to say something but he was quick to push you against the door and kiss you again this kiss was filled with want and need. “Been wanting to do that for a while now.” He said and then returned to kissing you.

“Kelly.” You moaned out and turned your head to the side giving him more access to your neck and that sweet spot. He smirked into your neck and bit that one spot that had your knee going weak. You could feel how hard he was through his pants and that made you moan and clench around nothing, you needed and wanted him at the same time. “Kel, I need you.” You moaned out and he smirked.

“You got me baby.” He said and you shook your head again.

“No, I need you to be inside of me.” You said and he grunted.

“Jump.” He said and you did and then he was turning around and walking you over to his bed, where he gently laid you down. He was quick to get your clothes off and then his was disappearing and joining yours in the pile it had created. “You are so beautiful, baby.” He said while you laid there naked in front of him and you blushed but you couldn’t help but look him up and down and then stopped at his cock and you practically started to drool. “Like what you see?” He asked and you nodded.

“Love what I see.” You said and he smirked and then was crawling up until he was seated between your legs.

“Already so wet for me and all I did was kiss you.” He said and you chuckled.

“I can’t help that you turn me on.” You said and he smirked and then parted your legs slightly and started to kiss the inside of your thighs until he got to where you needed him the most.

“Kel.” You moaned out when he licked a broad stripe up your slick folds and you swear you could’ve came right then and there. He continued his attack on your pussy and he wasn’t letting you up. Your hands went to his hair and grabbed on it and pulled his face further into you. One hand went to your hips to keep them still and down when you tried to buck up into his face and the other hand went to your pussy and rubbed your clit and then two fingers were being pushed into you and he started to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you. Your head was thrown back in a mouth open in a slight moan, you knew you had to be quiet but with him pleasing you this good you couldn’t help but voice it. All too soon he stopped and pulled out of you licking his fingers and then took them out, he crawled up until you felt his cock nudging your opening.

“Damn you taste good. As much as I want you to cum on my face, I want you to come on my cock.” He said and again you clenched around nothing. He reached down and pumped himself and then he was slowly easing into you and attaching his lips to yours to swallow that moan that was coming out of you. You bottomed out and your hands gripped his sheets as he started his slow thrusting, he stretched you out in all the right places and filled you like nobody ever has. He was bigger than your previous lovers and you were loving it. You always dreamed about how it would be to have sex with him and you could finally say that your dreams were coming true and it was glorious. He finally released your lips when air was needed. You let out a loud moan and his hand was quick to come up and cover your mouth. “Shhhh. As much as I want to hear you, you have to be quiet.” He said and you nodded and he uncovered your mouth.

“Faster, Kel.” You said and he obliged and started to go faster. You wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles. His arms came to rest beside your head and caged you in. You were just glad that the blinds were shut.

“Oh, baby. You’re so tight.” He moaned out and he thrusted in and hit your g-spot that had you moaning practically loud and he was quick to cover your mouth. “I told you to be quiet.” He said and made a sharp thrust into you.

“I can’t help it. You fill me up and stretch me in all the right places.” You said when he took his hand away from your mouth and that made him smirk. “I’m close.” You said and he nodded.

“I am too. Cum with me.” He said and sped up and your nails dug into his shoulder blades and he hissed. His head dropped down to your breasts and he started to give them attention and when he slightly bit your right nipple that had you cumming.

“I’m cumming, Kel.” You said and then he did it to your left and that is what you did you in. You clenched around him and that rubber band snapped and your nails went down his back leaving scratches in their wake and that was it for him.

“I am too.” He said and then his thrusts got sloppy and then he stilled inside of you. His head was thrown back and a quiet moan came out of him. After a few minutes you both came down from your high and he was collapsing next you and you turned to where you were facing him. “That was hot.” He said and you nodded. “I mean it when I said that you’re the only one for me and that you’re it for me.” He said and you smiled and looked up at him.

“I believe you. I guess Gabby was right when she said I tamed the flame.” You said and he chuckled.

“You certainly did. When I saw you talking with Chad at Molly’s I was jealous. I wanted that to be me with you.” He said

“What about that woman that you were with? You were smiling a lot.” You asked and shook his head and kissed your forehead and looked down at you.

“She came up and talked to me and I was so desperately trying to get away from her. I was smiling because I saw you laughing and having a good time with the girls.” He said and you smiled.

“I love you, Kels.” You said

“I love you too.” He said and you laid there in each other arms enjoying being there with each other. That moment didn’t last long because the bells were ringing signaling for Squad, Truck 81, and Ambulance 61 for a call. You both groaned but were quick to get dressed as you were coming out of his quarters, you ran into Gabby, Sylvie, Stella, and a few others and they just looked at you and smirked. You hurried off and with your head hung but a smirk on your face and Kelly’s. As you were about to get into the ambulance, he caught you and kissed you and you returned it but you were being pulled into the ambulance and everyone was off to the call.

“So, you and Kelly finally admitted your feelings and got together huh?” Gabby asked and you blushed.

“Oh hush.” You said and they laughed but you smiled.

You and Kelly loved each other that was for sure and now you both could be with each other. Neither of you were going to let one another go and you were ok with that. You finally tamed the flame and that flame was yours and only yours.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@docockschest

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the-colourful-witch · 1 month

Note

i'd love to know more about astrid cresswell if you're willing to tell us more. such as her family, is she dirk cresswell's daughter? what's her wand like? what year was she born? etc

Hiya! I can't believe you found her! I forgot I shared an illustration of Astrid on my page a long time ago :) Astrid Cresswell is my OC. And yes, I did take inspiration for her name from Dirk Cresswell, who is an Auror at the Ministry. He was one of the Aurors who was supposed to arrest Dumbledore if I remember correctly. In Order of the Phoenix. The two of them have no relation, actually. I took the last name when I was toying with the idea of her being the daughter of Dirk, but I went in a different direction. The last name kind of stuck, oops :) Anyway! Astrid!

Astrid is a Slytherin, in the same year as Fred and George (born 1978). My story for her is:

She was raised by her dad, who is a Healer at St Mungo's, in the permanent ward. Her mother was a Muggle, who died in childbirth. Robb Cresswell, Astrid's father, never told his girlfriend he was a Wizard. Astrid grew up with her dad, who was always working. They lived in the hillside village of Ottery St Catchpole where a few more magical families were housed in the hills. Robb regularly dropped Astrid off at the Weasleys, where Molly was more than happy to look after Astrid when he went to work. And so Astrid grew up with her two best friends: Fred and George Weasley. But that friendship didn't last very long after Astrid got sorted into Slytherin House. From that moment on, Astrid and the twins became rivals. They will do anything to destroy each other, both on and off the Quidditch pitch.

Astrid is a Chaser, the only girl on the Slytherin team. She's constantly dealing with Marcus Flint's sexist antics but is determined to play. She has something to prove, after all. Her patronus is a fox and her wand is 9 1/2 inches, Aspen wood with a dragon heartstring core. It stylishly resembles ivory; excellent for duelling and charm-casting. It's a wand made for revolutionaries but can be temperamentful, reacting to uncontrolled emotions. Astrid has two best friends: Maeve and Dorian, both Slytherins in her year. Dorian plays on the Quidditch team with her, as a Beater. He wants to be an Auror, like his father John Dawlish and is ahead of everyone in their class in all subjects. Maeve is the oldest of seven girls and the only one sorted into Slytherin. Hogwarts is the only place where she doesn't have to be a parent to her sisters. She enjoys reading and is Captain of the chess club. Oh, and she has a pet: a tubby black and white cat named Tibo. Tibo likes treats and scratches behind his ears. He has one of those loud purrs.

Astrid herself has a toad, which is a surprisingly uncool pet for a girl of her status. He's called Samuel the Second. You don't want to know what happened to the first. Sebastian usually hangs out in Astrid's room, but she takes him with her to the greenhouses sometimes when she's doing extra credit work. And Astrid is popular! After finding out she wasn't ever going to fit in with her Gryffindor friends (not really friends anymore), she decided to really embrace the Slytherin identity. She is clever and cunning. She knows how to get what she wants. To everyone who does not know her, she is perfect. Prefect, Quidditch player, star student. Behind the scenes, it's a little more rough... But she tries. She wants to become a Healer, after a successful Quidditch career, of course.

I am still figuring out Astrid's story, but it's fun for me to work on her every now and then. I admit, it's been a while. I dream of writing a fic for her one day, but I am not much of a writer. I start with something and then I can't finish, because I get distracted and instead draw my characters. What can I say, I like to draw! Maybe one day I'll actually finish a first draft :)

(an older version of Astrid - I don't love how I drew this)

I would like to share some more OC work in the future, but it's been a while since I worked on my characters. All the existing HP characters take up a lot of my time at the moment. One day :) I hope you like this. I'm happy to answer more questions if you have them <3

Magical wishes, Fleur

Some more earlier concepts of Astrid..

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george-weasleys-girl · 10 months

Note

Hey bestie, can you write 30 with f reader x fred?

She's spending Christmas with the Wesley's as she doesn't have a family as they died in the first war and were in the OG Order of the Phoenix (which they don't realise maybe until Fred and George are discussing going home for Christmas, and reader mentions staying at Hogwarts), and Fred has fancied her since they were best friends.

https://www.tumblr.com/writerthreads/704592881806082048/30-festive-writing-prompts-for-your-wipone-shots?source=share

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Under the Mistletoe

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

"Stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!"

"Frederick Gideon Weasley!" Molly yelled from the kitchen. "Leave that poor girl alone! She's here to celebrate Christmas with us, not have you chase her through the house like a crazed lunatic."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Y/N said, then turned, laughing, and stuck her tongue out at Fred.

~•~

It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss Fred. She really, truly did. But he was one of her dearest friends and also Hogwart's most notorious playboy. She was certain he would never see her as anything other than a friend. And if she kissed him, even just the smallest peck, all those feelings she kept buried would force their way to the surface, and she wasn't sure she could shove them back down again.

Four days earlier

"Well, that settles it," Fred announced. "You're going home with us for Christmas."

"But - I... " Y/N stammered.

"Nope, no buts," George said. "You don't have a family to go home to for Christmas. So, you're coming to ours."

"Exactly," Fred nodded in agreement. After learning that not only had her parents been killed in the First Wizarding World, but her grandfather, her only family, had passed away over the summer, there was no way he was taking no for an answer.

"But what about your parents?" She argued. "How would they feel if you just brought a random stranger home for the holidays."

"First off," Fred held up a finger. "You're not random. And second," he held up another finger. "You're not a stranger. And third," he held up yet another finger. "While you were busy arguing with us, Ginny sent a note to mum telling her to expect an extra guest. So there." Fred folded his arms, looking quite pleased with himself. "Now, let's get you packed."

~•~

Nothing could be sweeter to Fred's ears than Y/N's laughter ringing through the Burrow. He'd fancied her for a long time, though he'd never worked up the guts to tell her.

Oh sure, he could woo girls left and right, but when it came down to actual feelings, he lost all ability to speak or breathe or function at all. That was why he kept trying to get Y/N under the mistletoe. He was good at kissing, and he thought that maybe if he could just give her a small kiss, he could somehow convey all those pent-up emotions.

Except things weren't working out as he'd expected. The only reason he was doing the whole mistletoe thing was that he thought she felt the same way. Occasionally, he caught her looking at him in a way that suggested more than just feelings of friendship.

"Maybe I'm wrong," he confided to George. "Maybe it's just wishful thinking."

"Or maybe you need to change tactics," his brother suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," George shook his head. "But I agree with mum. You are chasing her around like a crazed lunatic."

Fred sighed. "So what do you suggest?"

"Well, I know this is a pretty revolutionary idea, but stick with me," his twin began. "But you could just try talking to Y/N. Tell her how you feel."

"Tell me how you feel about what?" Y/N's voice startled both boys, who swerved around to see her standing in the doorway to their bedroom.

~•~

Y/N and Fred sat side by side on his bed. For a long while, neither spoke.

"Whatever this is, it must be serious," Y/N said, breaking the silence. "If you're at a loss for words."

Fred opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"I, um... you know how I've been trying to get you under the mistletoe?" He asked.

"Yeah... "

"I'm not just trying to... you're not like all the other girls. Not to me anyway."

With every stumbling word, Y/N's heart beat a little faster. "W-what are you trying to say, Fred?"

"I'm saying that," he paused to clear his throat. "That I like you. Alot. Alot more than as a friend. But if you don't feel - "

"I do feel the same way," Y/N interjected.

Fred's eyes widened. "You do?"

Y/N nodded. "That's why I wouldn't kiss you. There'd be no going back for me if I did."

" Yeah. Me either."

"So would you like to - " She barely got the words out before his lips were on hers, tender yet all-encompassing.

Even after their lips parted, they remained with their foreheads together, eyes closed for a few lingering moments.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Fred mummered.

"Me too." Y/N felt more than saw his smile.

"Wanna do it again?" He asked.

"You don't even have to ask," she smiled, leaning forward.

"Oh wait! We need something!" Fred yelped, causing her to jump. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe, holding it over their heads.

"Have you been carrying that around all day?" She laughed.

"Yep!" He replied. "I didn't know when the opportunity might present itself and wanted to be ready."

Y/N giggled and shook her head. "It's a good thing you're so cute, you know."

"I know," he winked and leaned for the second round.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

#fred weasley #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #hp universe #hp fandom

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delespresso · 5 months

Text

IT'S YOU ━━ Antonio Dawson x fem!reader

author's note; hi! it's been a while since i actually wrote something and i really wanted to start again so here we are. first time writing for my man antonio and i hope it's good and liked <3

prompt; "what do you think i've been doing this for?" from this list

summary; after a pretty messy breakup, she ends up crashing at antonio's. and she ends up moving in — but they're just friends.

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Antonio had known her for years. When she first moved to Chicago and became Gabby's partner on Ambulance 61, he was one of the few people that welcomed her from outside the firehouse.

Since then they'd been good friends, usually hanging out at Molly's or helping each other with mundane things. She was even good with Eva and Diego which always helped lessen his load after the divorce. There were times when she helped watch over the kids when Gabby couldn't and Antonio was stuck with a case while his ex-wife was traveling the world with her fancy new boyfriend.

He wasn't sure when it started, but at some point he felt it. The way his excitement grew at the prospect of seeing her again even if just for a drink with their circle of friends at Molly's. Or if they bumped into each other while on scenes. Or the few moments he'd get roughed up on the job and would come to her instead of an actual doctor or something.

But when he realized the way he was leaning onto her more than he probably should, he still couldn't stop it. Which was probably why he immediately offered her a place to stay when she broke up with her boyfriend whom she'd been living with.

“The kids are at a sleepover this weekend, but you don't need to worry about them,” he said as he brought two bottles of cold beer out for them.

She was on his couch, wrapped up in one of his hoodies as she curled up. Her boyfriend of four years turned out to be sleeping with his secretary. Cliché, but god she never expected it.

“You're sure they're gonna be fine with me staying?” she asked, wiping her nose with a tissue since she'd just stopped crying as she took the beer he offered.

In all honesty her heart was crushed. Who wouldn't be? She'd trusted her boyfriend only to find out he'd been stepping out on her.

Antonio could see the way she was hurting. And it filled him with a subtle rage. He wouldn't risk showing it though, all he did now was be there for her.

He let her curl up on the long couch as he settled in the armchair, watching her as she drank her beer.

“They love you,” he reminded her. “Eva would be happy to know you're here so she'd have someone to gossip with.”

They shared a chuckle over that. She did love the long chats with Eva about high-school drama. It was much simpler than her life now.

“You can stay as long as you need,” he added gently, a soft smile as he reassured her.

She looked at him, mustering up a soft smile of her own. How on earth did she get so lucky as to have a friend like him?

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

She'd been staying at Antonio's for half a year by now. The search for a place of her own wasn't going so well. But Eva and Diego were pretty much doing everything they could to convince her to just stay.

Antonio's feelings had been all over the place now that she was literally in the room next door to him. Everywhere he turned she was there. It didn't help with the ongoing want to always be around her.

She was usually so sharp on social cues. She'd notice if her friends had crushes or admirers from miles away. But when it was her own case, she was practically blind to it. Which clearly showed now as she was helping Hermann bartend at Molly's and serving up a drink for Antonio.

“You know you've got a hot one eyeing you up on your four o'clock,” she teased, passing him a bottle of cold beer.

Antonio was aware of the other woman. But his eyes was fixed on the one behind the bar in front of him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, picking up his bottle and bringing it up to his lips, “I'm not looking for that.”

She rested her hands on the bartop, tilting her head at him. Now that she thought of it, he hadn't been on any dates for a while now. Much less flirting with anyone. Well, anyone but her. But they always had their harmless flirty banter.

“Then what are you looking for?” she asked, leaning forward slightly as she questioned him.

He sighed, scratching his stubble lightly as he turned his head for a moment. God, he loved her but he wished she opened her eyes sometimes.

“I'm not looking anymore ‘cause I already found it,” he answered simply, turning back to her with a soft smile.

“Meaning?” she asked again, raising her brows.

“Well, there's this girl,” he started to say. He paused though, grinning when he saw her lean in slightly as if she was interested in some hot scoop of gossip.

“She got her heart broken a while back. Since then, I've been tryna make her feel better. Pick up the little pieces.”

She paused then, her brain picking up all the information piece by piece. For a minute, she felt like she made the connection. But she didn't want to jump the gun.

“You told her how you feel?”

“Doing that right now.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Both of them just looked each other in the eyes as he smiled softly at the way she simply stared at him like that. He knew she was picking it up now.

“Antonio—”

“It's you,” he cut her off, pushing his beer bottle aside slightly. His arms were folded over the wooden bartop as he spoke to her. “It's been you for years now.”

She blinked, completely dumbfounded. Her heart felt like it was fighting to break out of her ribcage.

He felt like the weight was finally lifted off his shoulders now. It was out. He couldn't take it back and he didn't want to.

“Why didn't you say anything?” she finally asked after a few beats.

“You were spoken for,” he replied.

She'd been taken for the past four years. And he respected the relationship, so he never said anything or acted on his feelings. He wasn't the type for it.

“Not anymore,” she then said.

He paused, his eyes locked on hers for a moment as he nodded slowly.

“Not anymore,” he echoed. “What do you think I've been doing this for?”

A soft smile pulled on her lips as she looked at him, finally realizing she was right. She had sensed the subtle hints, but she was too scared to properly read into it.

Now though, he was making himself clear.

“I like you,” he said properly, making her smile brighter which caused an immediate rise in his heart rate. “And I know you're in the room next door—”

She laughed softly at that, looking down briefly. She was still living in his place after all.

“— but if you'd like, I'd love to properly take you out,” he finally finished.

He was nervous. In all honesty, she made him so nervous it made almost no sense. But he had to take the leap. He'd been waiting for years for the chance and he'd be damned if he didn't take it now.

She smiled, looking at him with those eyes that always made him weak.

“I'll clear my Friday night.”

liked this tale? be a member and buy me some coffee!

#antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson #antonio dawson imagine #chicago pd #one chicago #antonio dawson fanfiction #oneshot #jon seda

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collecting-stories · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothings - Remus Lupin

Request: Remus lupin is so sweet nothing. Please I’m begging 🙏

Summary: Just Remus and the reader being cute and talking about reading aloud, eating toast, and having tea.

A/N: There's a whole paragraph about a backstory that I was going to expand on but then decided against it so now its just sitting there as backstory that goes nowhere lol.

TS Anthology Series | Harry Potter Masterlist

...all that you ever wanted from me was nothing...

Molly was still making the rounds, saying goodbye to everyone and making them each individually promise that, should any trouble arise, they would owl her and Arthur immediately. You were a tad too old for surrogate parents though you couldn't deny the warm feeling that always settled over you at the feeling of a too-tight hug and kiss on the head. Molly had a way of making you feel happy to be coddled instead of annoyed, as you so often found yourself with affection these days.

Everything felt forced and performative and overreaching, like every hug was just you trying to convince yourself that things outside of Grimmuald Place were not what they were. Kingsley passed you in the hallway on his way to the floo, nodding a goodbye as you ignored the staircase and walked into the dining room.

In fifth year you had dated a boy whose family was friends with the Blacks and you'd been to a Christmas party with him here, where you cowered awkwardly in the corner of a room until he snuck you off to the library to make out. At the time you were 15 and Voldemort was dead (or so they claimed) and you had very little exposure to that most noble house of Black and their relatives. Now, in your late twenties, working at the Ministry with Kingsley, you found yourself well-exposed to all the inner-workings of the family drama. Both the Blacks and the Order, and supremely familiar with 12 Grimmuald Place.

"You've got stuck washing up?" You took the short flight of steps down into the kitchen and walked to where Remus was standing over the sink (shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and suds from the sponge clinging to his hands).

"So it seems," he replied, shutting off the faucet and reaching for the tea towel, wiping his hands dry so he could take a sip of tea from the mug he had sitting beside the sink, "has everyone left?"

"They were when I snuck out," you reached around him, taking the mug and stealing a sip from it, "had to come all the way back here to say goodnight to you."

"Is that what you're doing?" He questioned, taking the mug back.

"It's what I'm pretending to do," you replied.

Your new found familiarity with the Black Family home had everything to do with Remus, who had been staying with his best friend since Mad-Eye and Kingsley had determined the house to be the safest place for Sirius to outlive his fugitive status (and probably for a significant time before that too). The house had become an unofficial gathering for the business of Voldemort's return months prior to the Order's official reinstatement and you had, in all that time, gotten to know the house and it's occupants (Remus in particular) very well.

"It's no use," he held the tea towel out to you, a silent request to dry the dishes he washed, "Molly already knows. Which means everyone else does as well."

"What? How do you know she knows?" You asked. You knew you shouldn't be nearly as surprised as you were by the news, Molly mothered seven children after all. The woman had eyes (and ears) in the back of her head. "Also, why do you insist on washing up the muggle way?"

"It's relaxing." He shrugged, ignoring your other question for the moment.

"Dirty dishes relax you?" You laughed, "you're a very strange man."

"You must be quite strange then as well, seeing as you've chosen to share a bed with me." He said, voice dropping conspiratorially lower, as though he was sharing some kind of secret with you as he leaned in close.

You nudged him away with your elbow, hands full of a plate and the rag you were drying it with. "How did Molly know?"

He shrugged, "I haven't the slightest idea, she came up to me at the last meeting and told me she knew about us. Very accusatory, I might add, as though she had caught me in the act."

"Perhaps she did," you teased, "you're very handsy you know."

"I've never been accused of being handsy before in my life," he replied, "perhaps you're thinking of yourself."

"That must be it," you teased, pinching the bit of skin that appeared just above his slacks as he reached to place some dried plates back in the cupboard. He managed to swat at your hand with his, frowning at you as if you weren't in Sirius' kitchen but in fact back at Hogwarts, some teacher just around the corner waiting to nab you.

"I was going to set a pot for tea if you'd like some," Remus offered, setting the last of the now clean dishes back into their home before moving further down the counter to where the stove sat.

"Depends," you mused, taking the kettle off the stovetop for him and filling it with water.

"Depends," he echoed, "on what?"

"Will you be reading?" You asked.

Peace was hard to come by in a war, even when you were far from the actual fighting. When you'd first moved into Grimmuald Place you felt very much like you were suffocating in the morose silence of the home. There was no peace inside the walls. But then, by a stroke of luck and chronic insomnia, you'd come across Remus in the library, sitting by the fire reading and having a cup of tea. He'd happily made you one and then he read aloud to you and it was the first time since agreeing to help Kingsley and Dumbledore with the Order business (truly the first time since there'd been any inkling of Voldemort's return four years earlier) that you'd felt any semblance of peace.

"Naturally."

You passed off two mugs to him from the cupboard in the far corner. Sirius had 'therapeutically' broken every piece of china that his mother had perserved in the cabinet and replaced them with various (and often truly ridiculous) muggle kitchenware. The mugs you passed on to Remus now were a set that advertised muggle kings and queens of England.

"I read once that Mary Tudor was actually a witch, you know? Her mother apparently was from a pureblood family and it was rather scandalous that she married Henry. It was muggles then, I believe, that Mary was burning at the stake."

"Catherine of Aragon was a pureblood witch? I think you're making things up at this point," you replied, admiring the way the sleeves of his cardigan threatened to fall down over his hands as he worked.

"It's true, or at least the book I read claimed it to be. I've not given it the time to research properly. It also said she killed Arthur," he replied.

"Suppose it said Mary was a slytherin?" You teased.

"Could've been."

"Where's Sirius when I need him to tell you that you're full of shit," you laughed, "off the topic of English royalty though-"

"It's not so impossible to imagine that at least a small portion of the monarchy were witches or wizards." He cut in, insistent to make the point whether he was certain of its validity or not.

"Off the topic," you repeated, stressing the words as best you could, "I've bought you something. And you're talking such nonsense I nearly forgot to give it to you."

"You've bought me something?"

"Yes," you went back to the bag you'd brought that evening, sitting on the chair you'd once been occupying for the meeting, a few non-perishable groceries still sitting inside, and pulled out a container. "It's pumpkin butter, for your toast." You placed the small glass jar on the counter and pushed it toward him.

"Where did you get it?" He asked, lifting it and turning it over in his hands. There were no distinct markings on the outside, just a plain glass mason jar with a lid secured on.

"A market in Bathgate. Went over the weekend to see my mum...she's talking about leaving Scotland, think perhaps she means it this time." You mouth did something resembling a frown (or the beginning of one) before you forced a smile, "as it is, the seller informed me that she grows her own pumpkins and everything."

"Looks very intriguing."

"It's a bribe, so that you'll read more Silmarillion," you explained, leaning against the counter to be closer to him. In truth, he probably didn't need to be bribed to do anything you asked of him, he simply needed to be asked. And sometimes, not even. But he had claimed, after the last evening you spent reading together over a kettle of tea and plates of jammy toast, that he was going to quit reading to you if you didn't stop falling asleep.

"I was only teasing, before," Remus clarified, an especially soft look on his face, as though he believed that you had taken him seriously when he said he wouldn't read with you anymore, "I'm not really bothered that you fall asleep. I know you've been having trouble getting rest."

"Says you, when was the last time you had a good night's sleep?" You questioned, buttering a skillet to toast bread on, "the last time you fell asleep it was sitting up, trying to read the daily prophet over a bowl of porridge."

"Yes, I remember," Remus replied, thinking of the porridgy goop that had stuck to his elbow when he'd accidentally dropped his arm into his bowl.

"We both need sleep then," you replied. "Desperately it would seem."

"How do you suggest we go about getting it? Considering how busy you are during the day and how adverse I am to napping in the afternoon."

"We go to bed at a reasonable hour?" You offer, laughing on the end of the sentence. There hadn't been a night this week that hadn't been overtaken by a meeting. If not a meeting then simply someone (Mad-Eye or Kingsley or someone equally in a hurry) dropped in to give news or request assistance or speak in hushed tones to the three of you in the kitchen about the changing climate of the wizarding world. Even Grimmuald Place seemed unable to shelter you from the chaos that reigned outside.

"Splendid idea, are you suggesting we start tonight?" He asked, glancing quickly at his watch as if to remind you how late it was already.

"Seems a shame to waste perfectly goody slices of bread...and you've only just made tea," you replied. Despite your own suggestion you weren't the slightest bit tired and imagined you wouldn't even begin to be until you had finished off your toast and tea and were bundled in Remus' cardigan listening to him read aloud.

"Excellent point," Remus noted, not ready to fight with sleep either, "shall we head to the library?"

"We should light a fire this time," you suggested, and then, "oh god! You think that's how Molly knows?"

"What?"

"Do you think that's how Molly knows we're together?" You clarified, though not enough because Remus still looked somewhat confused.

"How? I don't know what you're referring to."

"When Arthur flooed in...to see about the incident near Buckingham and we were-"

"Ah," Remus cut you off, his cheeks going red at the reminder, as though he were not a man in his mid-thirties, perfectly allowed to do what he wanted (or who he wanted, in this case) without being shy about it. "I would say so yes."

"Well best to light a fire then, don't want to shock anyone else, even if Molly has put the word out."

"Are you expecting something to happen?" He asked, following you out into hallway, mugs of tea in hand.

"I have two very distinct reactions to you reading aloud Remus," you replied, "who's to say what tonight's will be."

"Merlin's beard."

#collecting stories imagine #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #gender neutral reader #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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keirawantstocry · 7 months

Note

okay but what if...fitpacbo but Tubbo had Tommy and Molly in his head - gods that Tubbo somehow signed a contract to that now possess him or something - and they possessed at the wrong time...

(with love) have a great day!

i got carried away...

Pac fell asleep in familiar arms but woke up with unrecognizable eyes. He leaned back from his boyfriend to look him over. “Tubbo?”

The man sat up slowly and cocked his head. “Yes?”

“Your eyes are different, amorzinho. Are you feeling okay?”

His eyes had lost their swirls of green, currently sitting in a state of clear blue. Everything in Pac's body was on alert. His body was his but he doubted that what was in there was his boyfriend. But was that a neutral thing or a horrible thing? The thing stood up in a quick motion, exiting the bed to stand near the door.

Not Tubbo blinked. “I… am Tubbo.”

“Okay, now I'm concerned,” Pac said softly. “Let's wake up Fit and talk about this, yeah?”

Not Tubbo nodded slowly so Pac leaned over to the far side of the bed to shake Fit awake. He awoke with an affectionate grumble but froze when he sat up and saw Not Tubbo staring at the both of them from the other side of the room.

“What's wrong with him?” Fit asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Not Tubbo rushed to say. “I am Tubbo and uh everything is fine.”

“No you're not,” Pac said softly. “Don't lie to us, we can get through this easily okay?”

Not Tubbo sighed before he dropped down, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Okay. Fine. My name is Tommy.”

“And who exactly are you?” Fit asked.

Tommy glanced up at them, eyes sparkling like sapphires. “His husband.”

“Tom,” Pac said carefully. “He mentioned you.”

Tommy perked up. “He did?”

“He said you tricked him into marrying you,” Fit said with a laugh.

Tommy pouted. “Yeah, okay, maybe I did. But I mean. I wanted him so stuck with me. We have a lot of history.”

“Before the island?” Fit asked. “I thought he didn't remember his life before the island.”

“He doesn't,” Tommy affirmed. “But I do. I remember everything. We ended up in… very different places. I ascended to godhood after the end and he ended up here.”

“The end of what?” Fit asked.

Tommy hesitated then laughed. “It's a long story, I don't think I have time to tell you. I lived with him on the SMP since we were 15 and until we met our final end there at 17. Two… incredibly long years.”

Fit whistled. “You guys met your end there at 17? Fuck.”

Tommy shrugged. “We lived a shit life.” He swung his arms out and grinned in a way Tubbo would never. “I'm just glad to be free from all those shitheads.”

“Fair,” Pac said gently. “I'm glad to be free of other worlds I've lived in as well. Still got things to remember them by though,” he said gesturing to the metal leg by the side of the bed.

Tommy stared at it, eyes widening. “Is that yours? That's fucking sick. All I ever got that passed from life to life was scars.”

“I suppose you can't show us those,” Pac said disappointed. “Since you're in Tubbo's body. Wait! Did Tubbo have scars in this other world?”

Tommy nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Shitty story but I always thought he looked cool.” He lifted Tubbo's hand up to his face and dragged it down the side. “Burn scars. Explosion to the face.”

Pac could feel his eyes lighting up. “That sounds so cool. He has burn scars now. On his back. I love them.”

Tommy laughed, such a different laugh from Tubbo's. “Of course you do. I've heard about you. Big fan of strong men yeah?”

Pac flushed but he was still smiling. “Sim.”

Tommy gasped, bending over at the waist. Fit grabbed him as he collapsed, eyes rolling back into his head. He gasped loudly, back arching before he collapsed.

When his eyes opened again, he was Tubbo once more, familiar green and blue swirls in his deep eyes. He squinted at them. “What happened?” he muttered sounding bleary.

Fit and Pac exchanged a glance. “You don't remember?”

Tubbo sat up slowly and shook his head. “Feels like I just got hit by a bus.”

“You got possessed,” Pac explained. “Tom?”

Tubbo groaned, falling back. “Aw, that fucking idiot.”

Fit laughed. “He's an interesting guy.”

Tubbo shoved his palms against his eyes. “He's an idiot, that's what he is.”

They both laughed before pulling Tubbo further back up on the bed.

“Well, I'm glad you're back,” Pac said, nuzzling his nose against Tubbo's neck.

“We're glad you're back,” Fit corrected. “Although if Tommy ever wants to come back, I'm sure we'd both love to talk with him. He seems like a cool dude.”

“If by cool you mean an insufferable idiot with an inflated sense of self then yeah.”

Pac laughed. “Oi, shut up. Don't talk about your husband like that.”

Tubbo groaned. “Husband my ass, shut the fuck up.”

#sorry for making everything ab lmanberg and the dsmp it WILL happen again #qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!fit #q!tommy #poly morning crew #fitpacbo

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handfulofmuses · 27 days

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Molly! (For the ten facts char meme)

Ten facts about the character

Sometimes she is so highly focused on something so hard that she loses track of everything else around her and will also stay up all night for it.

Molly is unable to accept no for an answer and has a tendency to breach others boundaries through that. It is still something she is trying to work on but likewise, she does have issues with setting boundaries for herself as well.

Molly has a tendency to lie, but only when she wants to spare someone‘s feelings. Unfortunately, it generally makes the situation worse.

Stuffed animals are comforting for her and help her to stay calm. Twinklespot especially is the most comforting item she owns. If she is upset, she will surround herself with her plushies while pulling Twinklespot closer to her.

Jealousy can unfortunately sometimes get the better of her due to her own insecurities and she can also get extremely competitive because of it.

Moving around a lot has affected her to a point of abandonment issues and she did have a difficult time connecting with others. Friendships never lasted long before they moved to another state again. Her energetic nature and doing the “too friendly thing” didn’t always do her favors either - and she used to think the first day of school is super important so that you won’t remain as an outcast, so it usually depended on how her first day goes before she realized oh hey, that’s not how it works. As such, Scratch and Libby were her first genuine friends.

Dislikes skunks. She avoids Larry and his shop as much as she can because of his pet skunks. If she can avoid the street he lives in, she will at any cost. She has been sprayed enough, thank you very much.

Molly has a history of not telling the truth when things are bothering her and she will pretend everything is fine because she doesn’t want to worry her friends with her troubles. It generally causes communication troubles and her lies has put a bit of a dent in her relationship with Libby. She is a bad liar, talking fast, grinning, stalling, stumbling over her words, so nowadays the bloodhound of truth is able to detect whenever she is lying.

Molly can only hold up her positive attitude for so long. She may pretend everything is fine when it is not, but when she does become depressed it’s full on apathy and she won’t care much about anything anymore.

Loves her creativity, but also keeps jumping from one hobby to the next.

#;now you're stuck with me! (Molly)#captainshub

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jasntodds · 9 months

Text

Petrichor Chapter 16 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 01/10

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 1,994 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, gunshot wound, blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, reader has an entire mental breakdown, mild panic attack (Jason) Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: I hope you guys had a good time over the holidays/last of December!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Jason is stuck pacing back and forth in the room he’s calling a bedroom now. Worry has taken every part of him as his hand grips his phone like a vice. It’s been hours. He hasn’t heard from you or Dick or Gar. He hasn’t heard from anyone and he’s tried calling you seven times. But, your phone is off and your phone is never off. That is the one thing about you, your phone will never be off unless there is a reason for it and being hurt isn’t a good reason. Not to you. The only time your phone even dies is…never. Jason thinks about it and he doesn’t think you've let your phone even reach 20% in the entire time you’ve known each other. He thinks it’s probably so someone can always find you and you can always call for help because you're almost paranoid about it dying. Your phone doesn’t die.

That leaves Jason thinking the worst of the worst. If your phone is off, that means it has to be dead or you shut it off for some reason but that’s uncharacteristic of you. So, he thinks maybe it did die and if it died, that’s because you didn’t charge it. If you didn’t charge your phone, it’s because you were physically incapable of charging it. What if something really bad happened? What if you were shot somewhere else? Jason knows Crane wanted you taken care of, maybe he shot you twice but you're really good at hiding your pain when you need to. Adrenaline probably kicked in and shock, you were scared for Tim. Maybe you didn’t realize how bad it was. What if there was a complication of some sort and something bad happened?

Jason’s mouth starts to water as his eyes burn. His brows pinch together hard as his teeth grind so hard his jaw starts to ache. He was brought back. But, a part of him really hates that he was. Would you want to be brought back? If you died, would you want to be brought back like him? Jason comes to a stop, trying to steady his own breathing as his leg aches and burns. The scars on his chest feel like he’s being cut open again. What if you don’t want to be brought back but Jason did anyway? What if you did, and he does nothing?

What if you did die?

If you did die…Gar would call him, right?

Gar would definitely call, Jason assures himself. Gar would call immediately if something were happening. He has the number now and Jason’s ringer is on with the vibration set to strong. He has no missed calls but he’s certain Gar would call. If not, he would have called Molly and Molly would have found a way to call Jason. If you were dead, one of them would call him.

And then Jason swallows his own heartbeat as his phone starts ringing.

Gar.

“Hey.” Jason clears his throat, trying to keep himself together as he tries to prepare himself for the worst news he’ll ever get.

“Is she there?” Gar asks and Jason can hear the worry etched in his voice.

“Uh…no?” Jason questions and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or panicked with Gar not knowing where you are. At least he's not calling to tell Jason you're dead but that does now rule out you bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. “I told her to go with you.”

Gar sighs on the end, running a hand through his hair. “She took off. I thought maybe she went to find you but she was hurt and she’s not answering her phone. Molly hasn’t heard from her either.”

Jason already figured you wouldn't go to Molly. If you went to Molly, she would worry, give you a look you don't like, and you'd run away again anyway. The last thing you'd want to do is drag Molly into it further. But, Jason really hoped you'd have listened for once and just went with Gar. Or at least sent a text to one of them to let them know you're okay or not.

“She hasn’t been around.” Jason keeps his voice quiet and he looks around his room as if the answer is going to be written on the walls.

“Uh…hey, I know this…might not be what it’s for, but can you track her? She was shot and we’re all really worried.” Gar's voice is hesitant as he scrunches his nose, hating the idea of having Jason do it. It feels like an invasion of privacy, especially Gar being the one to ask but it's a last-ditch effort.

Of course, Jason's been thinking about it. But, something in him can't get himself to do it. On the small chance you did shut your phone off, that means you don't want to be found. Jason can't overstep, he can't intrude on you. Even if he is desperately wanting to because you could be dead. He thought maybe he'd give you twenty more minutes and then he'd just do it anyway.

“Have you looked for her?” Jason asks, eying his tablet you left out.

“No, I called you first.” Gar admits. Honestly, Gar doesn't even know where to look but he knew Jason would.

With no one out looking for you, maybe they don't have to track you and possibly invade your privacy. If you're just blowing off steam or punishing yourself, Jason knows exactly where you'll be. He figures, if him, Gar, and Molly can't find you within an hour, checking all of your spots, he'll use the tracker.

“Okay, you and Molly go look for her at her usual spots. Molly’ll know ‘em and I’ll check a few others. If we don’t find her in an hour, I’ll track her.” Jason nods his head on the other end.

“Do you think we’ll actually find her? I mean you know how she is.” Gar isn't trying to be pessimistic but it's been hours and he thought for sure, you would be with Jason.

Jason can feel the panic attack starting to course through his blood. His heart is racing and his hands are growing clammy and he’s getting unreasonably angry. It is not Gar’s fault because even on a good day, getting you to listen is like pulling fucking teeth, especially when it has to do with taking care of yourself. Jason knows this better than anyone but he’s mad anyway and he knows it’s the panic attack. You were fucking shot and he took off so he’s mad at himself for listening. And he’s mad that you were shot and Gar didn’t stop you. He can turn into a fucking tiger for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have turned into a tiger to stop you? Tackled you to the ground and pinned you there, dragged you to the manor kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do. You were shot and maybe you're dead now and he didn’t help. And Jason didn’t fucking help.

“Fuck! Gar, then you should have fucking followed her!” Jason snaps and immediately feels bad about it but any part of him that should apologize is washed over with guilt and regret and more anger. “Just go fucking look for her with Molly and I’ll look other places.” Jason grabs his coat from the bed and heads for the door.

“Where should we start?” Gar is quiet on the other end.

“The zoo.” Jason spits right back without even thinking. “Start there, then the harbor and I’ll--” Jason cuts himself off as he swings the door open, seeing you right in front of him with bloodshot eyes and blood-stained clothes and hands.

Gotham never sleeps. It never stalls. Everything is always moving, always loud. There is always something going on, people always going from one spot to the next in their lives. In some ways, it’s a little comforting. A reminder that you are here. You are here and alive like all of the people you passed on your walk here living their own lives. On the other hand, you wish it were quiet sometimes. You wish it were quiet sometimes because everything seems too much sometimes and your skin crawls while your heart feels like it’s going to beat out your chest. Your head spins and everything feels too much. But, it was quiet in the basement. It was quiet in the tower before you were attacked. It was quiet in the tunnels. It was quiet when you found Jason. It was quiet when Tim was shot. Maybe quiet is the surrounding air grieving for the mess fate’s created.

So, you stand in Jason's doorway because quiet with him, alive and breathing, has always been the safest place to be. You stand weakly, haunted by everything that's happened as the very idea of existing physically pains the deepest parts of your heart.

It’s hard to go through the same shit all the time. You're just supposed to be fine with it. It’s happened before and you got over it, so you can get over it again, right? At some point, someone reaches the end of their rope and you think you might be there. It is the same pain over and over again and it never gets any easier. Time passes and it all just hurts anyway. People say time heals everything but you don’t think that’s true because you think about her mom dying and it’s like the wind’s been kicked from your chest all over again. You remember Jason’s body and it’s like she’s being waterboarded. Time doesn’t heal anything. It’s not even like you're used to it. You were jus traumatized and avoid thinking about everything so it doesn’t fucking hurt so much. But, even that’s just exhausting. Existing is hard and tiring and painful.

Maybe you're just tired of being in pain.

Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you always felt safest with him. Even from your own thoughts. You never felt too much pain around him. He always knows exactly what to do and it’s all too much right now. Being alone doesn’t work anymore. So, you stare up at him as Jason’s brows pull together with a cross between worry and relief.

“Jason?” Gar calls. “You there?” Gar asks.

“I got her.” Jason says. “She’s here. I’ll call you later.” Jason says quickly before hanging up. “Hey.” Jason’s voice is soft and careful, noticing you're not making eye contact with him.

You walk the couple of feet up to him as Jason keeps his stance, almost ready to do whatever you’ll need. And all you do is lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. Jason lets out a breath and you're able to pull one in for the first time. Jason rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down slowly as he hears you sniffle against him.

“Gar was calling in a search party. Where the fuck were you?” Jason asks and he should have some sort of bite in his voice but he’s too worried and too relieved.

You look back up to him and shake your head. “Walking. I couldn’t-I couldn’t…do it.” Your jaw squares as you try to hold back your own tears. “S-sorry..I-I didn’t mean to…to, uh, worry you guys. I-I just…just couldn’t.”

Jason nods with understanding, looking you over and it doesn’t look like you took care of the gunshot wound. Your clothes are soaked and your hair is an utter mess. There’s blood on your face and swears your cheeks are stained with tears and you actually look cold.

Jason rests his hand on your cheek and you finally meet his eyes. “You alright?” Jason asks softly.

“Hurts.” You mutter and his hand almost feels like it’s burning your cheek. He’s so warm.

“The gunshot?” Jason questions, almost afraid of the answer.

“Everything.” You answer weakly with defeat.

prev. chapter

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor #tw: blood

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randoimago · 2 years

Note

Could i ask for s/o doing the old "can you this for me?" and its their hand, cute thing?

With Mollymauk, essek (c2), Grog and percy (c1)? Thank you 😊

"Can you this for me?" // Holding Hands

Fandom: Critical Role, Campaign 2 and Campaign 1

Characters: Grog Strongjaw, Percival Longassname De Rolo, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Hotboi

Type of Request: Headcanons

Notes: Here you go!!

Grog

Is still confused when you put your hand in his. Are you stuck? Did that magic glue cause this? What is he supposed to do?

You'd have to explain the joke to him. That'll cause him to realize and then laugh and play it off like he knew what you were doing the whole time.

Of course you wanted to hold his hand, why wouldn't you? His hands are very big and very warm. It'd be warmer to give him a hug instead, but he'll take hand holding.

Would not let go of your hand either. You asked him to hold it and so he will. He'll hold your hand all day if he can, just walking with you wherever you needed to go.

Percy

Gives you an unimpressed look as you hold his hand. Yes he understood what had happened.

Percy just scoffs and rolls his eyes. That joke was dumb, you know if you want affection you can just ask.

If you're lucky, he might give the back of your hand a kiss before going back to what he was doing.

Might pretend like he’s doing the same back to you at some point, only to put some of his tinker’s tools in your hand and telling you to make yourself useful if you’re going to play around in his workshop. He thinks he’s funny.

Essek

Just absentmindedly holds his non dominant hand out while he's still working. Doesn't even look at you since he's still in the middle of reading something. It probably takes him a moment to even realize you're holding his hand.

He's confused as he looks up at you to see a cheeky expression on your face. Essek is still confused before realization sets it and he lets out a small, "ah".

His face turns a darker purple from being flustered but he still holds your hand as he works. Would offer to pull a chair over for you so you can at least sit with him if you're going to be holding hands.

It does make work a tad more difficult since he doesn't want to stop holding hands. If it gets to be too much of a hassle then he'll just take a break and enjoy being in your presence instead.

Molly

You don't even finish the question and he clues into what you're doing. Just gives you a smirk and happily holds his hand out to hold yours. Might give you a little tug so you're standing closer to him.

Also would give a kiss to the back of your hand, but he's making eye contact the whole time and there's a smirk on his face.

He knows what he's doing and if he sees even a hint of you being flustered by his actions then he will be relentless.

Now and then he might give your hands a squeeze, mostly if he's doing something else. It's to let you know that he knows you're there and he'd much rather be enjoying you than doing whatever other nonsense he's stuck with.

#critical role x reader #essek thelyss x reader #essek x reader #mollymauk x reader #mollymauk tealeaf x reader #percy x reader #percy de rolo x reader #grog strongjaw x reader #grog x reader #anon ask

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mercurygray · 5 months

Note

#76 broken pieces for whatever two characters you would like, please.

I have a brainwave that these two needed to share a scene - so here they are.

This was the third date this month.

It felt funny, saying that, that Molly was going on a date, but Billie wasn't sure she had any other word for when a fellow dropped by in a nice suit, picked up a girl in a nice dress, and the two of them went out to dinner.

A date. Could you even imagine? It was Berlin and the war was over and they were going on dates again, real dates, where you spent time cleaning yourself up first and the fellow actually had a front door to show up at. Not like they'd done during the war, where a date could be meeting a guy for dinner in the next foxhole, or sharing a blanket, or watching a fire. Any spare five minutes alone.

But here he was, on the front mat, shoes shined and hair combed. She wondered what they were paying him - his suit looked too nice for Berlin. Everything here was shabby after six years of war, and he looked out of place in the hallway. "Mr. Rosenthal." She opened the door and let him inside before returning to her seat at the table.

"Sergeant Mitchell."

"She's almost ready - she found a run in her stocking and had to change."

He shrugged. "We're not in any hurry."

Billie nodded, and returned cagily to her magazine, glancing up to follow his eyes around the room, taking in the small bits of art on the walls, some of it stuck up with tape, the calendar in the kitchen, the dishes in the drainer by the sink.

George Stout wasn't ever one for running a really military outfit, and the fact that they were Army without the Army meant private billeting rather than barracks. It was just the two of them in the apartment, though there were several other officers in the building, which was run by an absolutely ancient little old lady who knew very little English. (Molly was trying to learn German, just to get by a little with her, but the Army phrasebook wasn't getting them very far.)

He looked a picture, standing there in the front room - you could say that much. He would have looked even more handsome in class As, with that dark dark brown bringing his eyes out in full force and the mustache that made him look like Tyrone Power. An easy charmer, one of the gang would have said. But she'd known easy charmers before. What do you know about him, Mol? Like, really know? Apart from the blue eyes and the curly hair and the manners and the smile and the fact that he can't sing? He's been coming here for a month and what is he? A hotshot pilot and a lawyer and what else? What's he hiding? Where's the catch?

Because there's always a catch, isn't there? With a boy like that. He's too good.

Billie rose from her chair and moved to put her now-cold cup of coffee in the sink. "I don't think she ever told me where you're from, Mr. Rosenthal."

"Brooklyn - Flatbush."

Billie had a sudden desire to call up Ruth and ask her what she knew about flyerboys from Flatbush. "And you still have family there? Parents, siblings? Girlfriend?"

He nodded. "My mother, and my sister." He smiled a little. "And no girlfriend."

Notice I didn't ask about a wife. "You still close with them?"

His smile never wavered for a moment. "My mother writes me nearly every week. Sister less often, but she'll put a word in Mom's."

"And your firm, are they - are they taking you back, when this is over?"

"I'm sure they will be." He moved closer to the kitchen and looked her in the eye. "You know, I could provide personal references, if that would take less time, Sergeant. Former commanding officers, friends - my rabbi." He smiled at her surprise. "I'm a lawyer. I know what an interrogation looks like."

Billie squared up, her eyes meeting his with no hint now of gentle prying. If you thought the rabbi was going to trip me up, I'll tell you now I don't care. "I like having all the facts." And the fact is that I don't know you, Robert Rosenthal, and I don't like that.

"And the fact that I like Molly an awful lot?"

See, you say that and I believe you, and I hate that I do. "Lots of guys can say they like a girl, Mr. Rosenthal. Maybe even use the word love. Doesn't mean a thing later. I'm trying to establish intention and motive." There's been a war on. People say things they don't mean all the time. Isn't that why you have a job?

He was watching her with a kind of respect in his eyes, smile tugging at his mouth. "Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer, Sergeant?"

Billie felt off balance at the compliment. "The bar wouldn't have me."

He laughed at her casual brutalism, and glanced down at his shoes, considering his next words very carefully. "When you fly a bomber, the only guys you trust are the other nine in the plane with you. Imagine it's the same in a foxhole."

"After they've given you a reason to, sure."

"Guess I'll just have to work on that, then."

It was then, of course, when they were nose to nose and eye to eye that Molly walked in, beautiful in her dress uniform. "Billie Mitchell, are you interrogating him?"

Rosie stepped back, supremely unconcerned by all of it. "It's all right, Mol. We were just talking. It never hurt to have friends who care."

He calls her Mol. And he calls me Sergeant, because he knows we're not friends yet. That's what Ron did, too.

Billie met Molly's eye with a clenched jaw, almost afraid of what she'd find there. It's what you did for me, isn't it, care? And I never listened. But you're smarter and better than me, and you deserve better, too, better than broken promises and broken pieces of a heart. And if he is what he says, you deserve him, Molly. You deserve the world. And if he's not then I'll bury him.

"No," Molly said, softening a little, realizing what they were saying. "No, it never did." She sniffed and checked the fastening on her purse, fiddled with a button. "Will you wait up?"

Billie shook her head. "You'd better take the key. I'm not going out."

Molly nodded, grabbing the key and its chain from where it hung near the door and closing the door behind her as she and Rosie left. He would ask her, at dinner, what that had all been about, and perhaps Molly would tell him - or not. She fell in love with a guy she thought she knew. It ended like you think it did.

#asked and answered #noneedtoamputate #i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #masters of the air OC #masters of the air x oc #molly mahoney #molly x rosie #billie mitchell

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callsign-dexter · 11 months

Text

Shattered Lives, Mended Hearts

Request: Hello 👋🤗 I know you get a lot lately, but is it okay if I send in another Antonio idea ? We just love him too much 😯So maybe another angsty one where you're a paramedic and one time join the Intelligence team at a case and take care of a little wound at Antonio's arm and you two are flirting like love birds (you have a thing for each other but neither of you admits it). Then some car crashes into the Ambo while you do so, and you get stuck and hurt pretty bad and Antonio tries to get you out. With everyone's help you can be saved but need to go to the hospital where Antonio is like your shadow, never leaving you and finally getting the guts to tell you his feelings ?

Pairings: Antonio Dawson x Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, car crashes, hospitals, medical inaccuracies , cursing, shitty exes

You were a paramedic for Firehouse 51, you rode with Sylvie Brett on Ambulance 61 with Gabriela Dawson. Sylvie and Gabriela were hesitant to get another partner but when they met you and started to work with you, they quickly changed her mind. You three never figured out why Chief Boden wanted another paramedic on 61 but you three weren’t complaining and wouldn’t have it any other way. You weren’t looking for a relationship at the time but when you had joined the crew down at Molly’s and met most of Intelligence one stuck out to you and instantly stole your heart, who would that be? Well, none other than Antonio Dawson. Gabriela was actually the one to introduce you both and you hit it off very well. You could actually remember the day and conversation that you had when you met him.

It had been one hard long day and you wanted nothing more than to let off some steam. You were fairly new to the team so when they suggested taking you down to Molly’s and getting to know everyone and you agreed. You weren’t very social to begin with but you wanted to get to know your teammates. “Hey, Y/N. Everyone is going to Molly’s after shift and we wanted to see if you would want to come along.” Kelly asked as you put down what you were working and smiled up at him.

“I would love that.” You said and he smiled.

“Great! You can ride with one of us. That is if you want to.” He said and you nodded.

“That would be great.” You said and then you both got called in different directions. When it came time to go Gabriela and Sylvie walked up to you in the locker room and said that the three of you would be riding together after you got ready at home and you three started off towards your cars and headed off to get ready for the night.

When they had picked you up from your apartment small talk was made while driving there and then the topic of relationships came about. “So, you seeing anyone?” Gabriela asked turning to look at you.

“I just got out of a nasty one. I actually broke up with him and then transferred here. He was a firefighter while I was a paramedic.” You said looking down and playing with the sleeve of your shirt.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Sylvie asked while she pulled into a parking spot.

“He did. I tried to report it but nobody believed me and everyone was his friend. It was his word against mine. When he tried to kill me is when I drew the line and the second, I was out of the hospital I was asking for a transfer.” You said and looked up at the girls and they were pissed.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him. You have us now. You apart of the 51 family and we protect family.” Gabriela said and you nodded and sniffled you never had someone say something so kind, you didn’t grow up in a nice household either with an abusive mother and cop father. Once you hit 18 you moved out went to school and got a job you loved, even if it were made up of mostly men and they treated women like garbage. You wiped your eyes and then all three of you got out of the car and both girls hugged you and slung an arm around your shoulders and walked into the bar. The other members of 51 greeted you and they handed the three of you a beer and the night started. You were having fun and loved your teammates. An hour into the night you heard the door open and saw the group of Intelligence come in, you had briefly met them but one face was new to you. The group saw your group and walked over everyone greeted everyone. The mysterious man and you were looking at each other practically with hearts in both of your eyes, Gabriela took notice of this and smiled. “Y/N this is my brother Antonio Dawson a member of Intelligence. Antonio this is Y/N Y/L/N the newest member of 51 and paramedic for Ambulance 61.” She said with a smile.

“Hi there gorgeous.” He said and you could’ve sworn you melted and you looked down and put a loose hair behind your ear.

“Hi.” You said and looked up. Oh, yea you were already forming a crush. Throughout the night you both had gotten closer and brushed hands. You both were crushing hard on each other. You had drunk a good amount and had decided to call it quits when the girls did. “Goodnight, Antonio.” You said and he smiled he already loved your voice.

“Goodnight, Y/N I hope to see you again.” He said and you nodded and then you left. When you were dropped off at home you took off your shoes and shed your jacket and purse and then got ready for bed with a smile on your face. That was 4 months ago.

Now you knew and got along with everyone and wouldn't have it any other way. You told your crew about what happened and they promised to protect you. They treated you like an equal and all the men acted like your older brothers and the older men acted as your father figure that you never had or an uncle. You and Antonio were getting on very well and you two flirted whenever you saw each other. You two were so in love that neither of you had made a move too nervous and you didn't want to end up like your old relationship but he was making you change your mind.

Ambulance 61 and Truck 81 along with another had been called to a scene where Intelligence just arrested a perp. Some people had gotten hurt and needed to be checked out. When you pulled up they had just put the purp in one of the police cars and now it was time to start checking everyone out. Most of the injuries weren't life threatening and after a few butterfly bandages they were sent on their way. You had been cleaning up and getting ready to leave when Antonio walked up to you. “Hey there, Y/N/N. Mind helping me out with something?” He asked and you smiled and looked up at him and smiled and then frowned when you noticed a cut on his arm.

“You know if you wanted to talk to me and grab my attention all you would have to do is talk to me.” You had said and started to flirt.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said and smiled up at you and you had briefly met his eyes then you blushed and looked down starting to work on his arm.

“It’s not deep so no stitches but I’ll wrap it. If it starts to look infected then go to the hospital but you can also call me.” You said and looked up into his eyes and both of you smiled.

“How can I do that? I don’t even have your number.” He asked and leaned up against the back door and you did the same on the opposite door.

“Well,” You said and grabbed a piece of paper from somewhere “here is my number to fix that problem.” You said and handed it to him and when your fingers touched an electric charge went up both of your arms and you both moved closer to each other. That moment wasn’t long lived. You both frowned when you heard tires squealing and an engine rev up. You both looked up and when you saw a very familiar truck speeding your way you pushed Antonio to the side as the truck collided into the back of the ambulance, pinning you and making the airbag deploy inside of the truck. Your head hit the hood of the truck and bounced off and then made you hit the back door officially knocking you unconscious. Everyone saw it happen and moved into action.

“Y/N!” Antonio yelled as everyone started to run over to you. Jay got the driver out along with Hailey and the driver was smirking.

“The bitch got what she deserved.” He said as they led him to a police cruiser. Everyone was crowding around you.

“Ok. Let’s get this truck back and get her to med.” Chief Boden said and everyone nodded and orders were thrown out. They got the truck moved and Antonio hadn’t moved an inch. He slowly lowered your unconscious body to the ground. Sylvie and Gabriela got to work on you and right now it wasn’t looking good. They called out stats and then got you loaded up in the somehow non damaged ambulance and headed off to med.

Both the firetruck and most of the cop cars sped off with you. Antonio never left your side. You were half-way there when you had flatlined and it freaked Antonio out “You don’t get to leave me that easily.” He said “Fight for me.” He whispered and by that time you had come back and arrived at Med. Sylvie told them everything and before they knew it you were being prepped for surgery as they wheeled you away, away from Antonio. He knew you were in the good hands of Will Halstead and Connor Rhodes.

3 hrs is how long they had to wait until they heard any news. All of Firehouse 51 was there and Antonio had yet to leave. Both Will and Connor walked out and blood was on their scrubs as they walked over to the group. “She’s stable. We had to remove one of her kidneys due to it being lacterated and part of her liver. Thankfully her pelvis wasn’t broken.” Will said.

“We did a CT scan and no brain damage had occurred. We expect her to recover fully. We don’t want her in the field for at least a few weeks, maybe even a month.” Connor said and Chief Boden nodded.

“Is she ok for visitors?” Antonio asked and they nodded and showed them the way. Everyone went to say hi and then they had to leave but not Antonio he stayed. He vowed to never leave your side. You were it for him. Jay and Hailey came by and told him the news and he was pissed.

5 hrs later and you were waking up groggy and groaning. Antonio heard this and shot up and grabbed Will and Connor, who were thankfully right by your room. They rushed in and talked to you once they were satisfied, they left saying that they would be back and now it was only you and Antonio. “Hi.” You said looking at him.

“Hi.” He said and smiled. “You ok?” He asked and you nodded.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” You said with a grimace.

“You were by your ex-boyfriend.” He said and you frowned.

“You know about him?” You asked

“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked not upset at all.

“I was going to when I was ready. We had just started to flirt and I wanted to be sure you were it for me and seeing you here, I realize you are it for me and I don’t want you to go away.” You said looking down with tears threatening to fall. He gently brought your chin up.

“You’re it for me too. Nothing is going to scare me away. It’ll just make me protect you more and you’ll have more family to protect you.” He said and smiled which made you smile “There’s that pretty smile that I love so much.” He said and you smiled “Can I kiss you?” He asked and you nodded. He leaned forward and so did you and your lips met. Once air was needed you released each other.

“Everything as I imagined it would be.” You said with a smile.

“Absolutely.” He said and then he sat back down and stayed with you until you were released.

6 months later you were happily in a relationship with him and you couldn’t ask for anything better. It was perfect. Neither of you were letting each other go anytime soon. Your ex went to prison and you couldn’t be happier and you helped put him away. Everything was looking up and you had Antonio by your side to help you every step of the way. Both of you were it for each other and neither of you would have it any other way.

Tag List:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

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