#daddy charming fanfic

[alien-bluez]

Rehearsals

based on the wonderful fic what happens backstage by @apricior , been thinking about oakworthy ever since i read it hehe please go read it if you haven't already!

[rockfangirl12]

When I saw this image I got the idea of ​​a Bucky Barnes fic in the 40s (although this image is from the 60s)

[earthchica]

never lose me | 2

Terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: Terry takes you out on a date and, afterward, makes passionate love to you.

warning: explicit smut (18+), fluff, oral (f), unprotected sex, sweet talking, creampie, slight daddy kink, foreplay, pet names (baby girl, baby, etc.)

note: thank you all for the incredible love you've shown for the first part. There are a lot more Terry fanfics on the way. 😝💗

part two of ( never lose me )

-

It was date night with Terry, and this date was supposedly going to be different from your previous dates, which were pretty low-key but fun.

You were checking yourself out in the mirror, admiring how the satin backless dress hugged your body in all the right places and beautifully color complemented your lovely brown skin.

A soft knock echoed through the hallway; quickly, you brushed a few stray curls away from your face before you hurried to the door and eagerly swung it open.

You were met with the sight of Terry, who stood tall and imposing. He wore a short-sleeved, black button-up shirt, black pants, and dress shoes.

Both of you let out a synchronized "Damn!" as eyes roamed from each other's heads to toes, resulting in a burst of shared laughter.

"Baby girl," Terry's deep voice was passionate as he entered your apartment.

"You look stunning in that dress," Terry expressed with a charming grin, gently placing his hand on your hip.

The warmth of his compliments never failed to bring a wide, lovesick smile to your face. Oh, the effect this man has on you.

"Thank you, Terry. You look mighty fine," you said, touching his shirt and admiring his handsome appearance.

With a confident grin, he replied, "Well, they don't call me playa, playa for nothing" while popping his collar.

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him on the chest which made him chuckle.

"I'm just playing. Thanks, baby...Oh, shit, I almost forgot, these are for you," he revealed, presenting a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind his back.

You took the bouquet of flowers with a genuine smile illuminating your face. Reflecting on your past relationships, you realize this was the first time anyone had given you flowers.

"Aww, Terry, thank you. They're absolutely gorgeous," You gently rose up on your tiptoes, leaning in to give him a quick, sweet peck on the lips.

After placing the flowers in a vase with water, you grabbed your purse and keys and left your apartment together.

-

"So…where are you taking me tonight, handsome?" You inquired, observing him start the car before turning to look at you.

"You'll find out soon, baby. Be patient," he replied, flashing that charming smile that always made your heart flutter.

You gasped when you arrived at your all-time favorite jazz club. It offered delicious food, a live jazz band, and a dance floor. 

You used to sing here every friday night with the live band, and Terry would always come and support you; sadly, your dreams of becoming a singer never came true.

It had been a while since you last visited. You turned to Terry in surprise; he simply smiled and held your hand as you entered.

A rush of memories flooded back; this place was like a forgotten dream from the past. 

The serene ambiance, the captivating live music, and the sight of people dancing felt like magic rekindled.

You both settled at a candlelit table, ordered some wine, and savored the moment until the waitress approached to take an order.

"I think I'll go for the grilled chicken with rice," You mentioned, browsing the menu as she jotted it down, then turned to Terry.

"I'll have the steak with mashed potatoes and broccoli," He announced, returning the menu to the waitress.

"Great, I'll get the orders in right away," She said with a slight smile, and you both expressed gratitude as she walked off.

With confidence, he said, "I know, I know. I did the damn thang, huh?" and you couldn't help but laugh as you placed your hand on his.

"You did, Terry. Thank you, baby." You expressed your joy with a warm smile.

"Good! Cause all I ever wanted is to bring happiness to your life and see your beautiful smile," he said sincerely.

You gently assured Terry, caressing his cheek as he looked at you with deep love and sweetness, "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

"I know, baby girl," he murmured, gently pressing his lips against your hand, eliciting an even brighter smile from you.

You never thought you would see Terry's romantic side, but you were happy you did. He was so gentle and sweet; you only knew his tough and rough side.

The waiter brought the steaming, flavorful dishes to the table. As you two savored each bite, engaged in lively conversation, discussing everything and anything.

The live band began to play a cherished, familiar tune that resonated deeply with you. Observing your delight in the soft melody, Terry realized it was the perfect moment for a dance.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, a warm smile on his face. He gracefully stood up and extended his hand towards you, inviting you to join him on the dance floor.

With a smile, you replied, "Yeah," as you placed your hand in his. He tenderly kissed your hand before guiding you to the dance floor.

Terry's warm hands rested gently on your waist as your hands were on his broad, steady shoulders.

The two of you swayed in perfect harmony with the music, completely absorbed in each other's eyes.

In that magical moment, it felt as though a captivating energy enveloped the two of you.

Transporting you both into a world where it was just two of you, dancing in a blissful cloud of love.

You never imagined experiencing love like this; for the past weeks, Terry made you feel incredibly loved and cherished.

You fell even more deeply in love with him with this entirely new and captivating side of him.

With a graceful movement, Terry spun you around and drew you close, planting a passionate and tender kiss on your lips.

You both savored a passionate minute of kissing, lost in the moment before reluctantly drawing back to catch your breath.

You gazed at him with so much love and desire, while his gaze reciprocated the same feelings.

Terry's voice was tender as he asked, "Does my baby need me?" He gently rested his hand on your cheek, his touch as soft as a whisper.

He possessed an intimate understanding of you; not a single word needed to be spoken.

“Mmm, come on, baby girl. Tell me what you need.” He whispered so profoundly and sensually.  

“Yes, I need you…Terry,” You whispered desperately, your fingers gripping his shoulder ferociously as if your life depended on it.

"Okay, baby," he grinned, his warm hand enveloping yours as you both strolled back to your table to pay the bill.

-

The drive back to your apartment felt like an eternity, and as you sat in the car, a wave of overwhelming lust made it seem like you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Terry wasn't help with stroking your leg. His touch was delicate, yet it had the power to get your panties soaked.

He was fully aware of his impact on you and wielded that knowledge precisely.

You were first to enter your apartment, the familiar scent enveloping you. The door clicks shut behind you, and before you can react, Terry presses you firmly against the wall.

A moan escapes your lips as his tender kisses trace a path along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You both moved across the room to your bedroom and slowly shed each other's clothes.

“Terry…I need you.” You let out a gentle moan, slowly pulled away from the tender kiss, and then started to softly stroke his dick, but he stopped you. 

“Shh, I got you, baby—such a needy little thang," he says with a chuckle before continuing to talk.

"I’m going to eat that pussy first and then going to make love to you,” He spoke, carefully lowering you onto the soft bed.

Terry took his precious time, though. He began trailing a path of soft, tender kisses to your neck all down to your stomach, hands grasping your tits for a second.

You were so eager for more that Terry found it amusing how you couldn't hide your impatience and irritation.

Terry let out a deep chuckle as he shifted slightly to get a better view of the adorable little pout on your face.

"It's not funny, Daddy. I need you so bad; please stop teasing," You said, feeling like you were about to cry.

"How much do you need me, baby?" He asked, deeply kissing your inner thigh.

"So much, Daddy. I need you; I need you to eat my pussy, please," You begged.

"Mmmm, so wet and needy for Daddy. I'm giving you what you need, baby" he said, watching him spread your legs out a little wider before diving into you.

You gasped, placing your hand on the top of his head while the other was gripping the sheets. His tongue was magically sliding through your wet folds, swirling around your clit.

“Terry,” you whimper his name, and eyes roll in the back of your head, hitching your hips up an inch to get a little bit more.

Terry let out a little muffled growl, gripping your legs to rock your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth.

“So feels good,” You cried in pleasure, which was always music to his ears. 

He loved hearing how he made you feel good and the pleasure he gave you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head again when you felt his tongue hit an excellent sweet spot. 

“Mmm, you taste so good, baby.” He declares so deeply, voice sending shanks down your spine to your dripping cunt.

Terry dives back in, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace.

“Yes, yes, just like that daddy.” You moaned, feeling him begin to finger you while continuing to suck the soul out of you. 

He lifted a finger to your mouth, and you quickly sucked your juice on his finger, moaning, loving every minute of that. 

“Fuck...that’s my good girl,” He said with a little moan, pulling his finger out of your mouth, which made you whine.

He diving his tongue in and out of your pussy. Your legs began shaking and tense.

The dirty sounds of wet slurping mixed with the squelching of his fingers were...

“I’m so close, Terry…can I cum, please?” you whimpered, voice wavering more and more.

“Cum for me, baby,” he ordered, lips detaching as his fingers pressed hard and deep against that sweet spot.

You cried out his name, shaking from the great release. You lay there panting heavily, trying to get yourself together. 

Terry began kissing up your body to your lips, and you moaned, tasting your sweetness on his tongue. 

"You good, baby?" His voice barely above a whisper, he gently caresses your face, locking eyes with yours in a tender gaze.

"Shit...yeah!" You manage to say the words with a little chuckle. He responds with a grin, leaning in to plant another tender kiss on your lips.

Terry pulls away for a second to grasp his big, erect dick to fill you up perfectly. He groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him tight.

He leaned his forehead against your forehead, pulling out a little bit before thrusting back in, which made you gasp.

You were both in love, lost in the intensity of each other 's eyes as you began this passionate lovemaking. 

His thrusts were slowly and gently, the moans between you two were soft, and the holding of each other was so tight. 

"Shit," Terry groans deeply, throwing his face into your neck for a second before moving back up to fasten the pace a little bit. 

You loved feeling every inch of his dick slowly moving in and out of you. You may be a rough kind of girl, but this slow, gentleness was doing many things for you.

“Ah…you're so beautiful, baby. My girl, you're my girl, right baby?.” Terry gently asked while tenderly placing a kiss on your neck.

 “Yes, I’m your girl, Daddy,” you whispered, looking deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

Terry's strong arms effortlessly lift you, cradling you securely as you instinctively wrap one arm around his broad shoulders.

"Fuck, I love you baby." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, thrusting up a little faster, setting a steady rhythm. 

"Ah…Terry….I love you, I love so fucking much," You moaned, feeling your pussy clenching around his dick. 

Terry pushed a few curls out of your face before kissing you, gripping your waist tighter. 

You pulled away with a moan, feeling yourself getting ready to cum. Terry immediately could tell by the expression on your face.

"Cum baby. I'm right there with you," He whispers in your ear, which is all you need to go over the edge.

"TERRY!" You cried his name, orgasming intensely. He moaned with a firm grip, seizing the back of your neck while shooting his load inside you.

The two of you remained in that position for a brief moment until Terry gently guided you down to the soft pillows before slowly pulling out of you. 

"Damn, look at that" He smirks proudly, glancing down at his cum dripping out of your pussy. 

Your intense high begins to fade while Terry goes to get a soft washcloth to clean you up.

The two of you settle into a warm cuddle now, and you nestle your head and hand against his chest.

His strong arms wrapped around you, as his hands tenderly caressed your arms.

Both of you were filled with happiness and satisfaction, basking in the afterglow of a deeply fulfilling moment.

[muiitoloko]

I'm EATING all of the Severus' fanfics and I haven’t seen one about daddy Severus, where his private, not secret, love (also a teacher from Hogwarts) is pregnant and he's so fluffy and protective about his new little family. Thank you for your work on all these stories *kisses to your brain* 🩷🩷🩷🩷

(Also if yall have father-to-be Severus fanfics recs please share, I beg)

Title: Daddy Snape's Dilemma.

Summary: The feared Potions Master reveals a softer side as he prepares for the arrival of his child, though his strict nature remains. Balancing love and discipline, Severus discovers that fatherhood is as complex as any potion.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: I love your enthusiasm for Severus fics—who can resist the allure of a fluffy, protective Daddy Severus, right? 🩷🩷🩷 Your idea is so sweet; I might have to dive into that territory myself! As for father-to-be Severus fanfics, I have to admit, I don't usually read them, so I'm not too familiar with what's out there. It's quite rare for me to venture into Snape fanfics. But hey, maybe @smilingformoney has some hidden gems or knows where to find them! *kisses to your brain back* 😄

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

You sighed with relief as you settled behind your desk after finishing the last lesson of the day with the second-year students. The Ancient Runes classroom was quiet now, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of a few moments ago. You allowed yourself a moment to caress your growing belly, smiling softly as you felt the gentle flutter of movement within. At five months pregnant, your belly was getting bigger with each passing day, and though you loved the feeling of your child growing inside you, you couldn't deny that it was also becoming more tiring. Your magic had become unpredictable, surging with emotion and exhaustion, which made your job as a professor a bit more challenging than usual.

Despite all this, you stubbornly refused to take things easy, as your beloved husband, Severus Snape, had repeatedly suggested—no, insisted upon. But "suggested" was putting it mildly. Severus could be a pain in the ass when he wanted to be, and now that he knew he was going to be a father, his overprotectiveness had reached new levels.

You chuckled to yourself, remembering how he had practically growled at poor Professor Flitwick earlier that day when the tiny Charms professor had approached you, his usual cheerful demeanor evident as he asked if he could feel the baby kick. Severus had swooped in like a bat out of hell, his dark robes billowing behind him as he inserted himself between you and Flitwick.

“Absolutely not, Flitwick,” Severus had snapped, his tone icy. “My wife is not a spectacle for your amusement.”

Flitwick, who was well accustomed to Severus’ gruff manner, had only chuckled in response, backing away with his hands raised in mock surrender. “My apologies, Severus, I didn’t mean any offense. Just a bit of fatherly curiosity.”

Severus had glowered at him, his dark eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “Fatherly or not, I’ll thank you to keep your distance.” He had then turned to you, his expression softening just enough to show his concern, but not enough to lose his characteristic sternness. “You should be resting,” he had admonished, his voice lowering to a tone that was meant only for your ears. “These students and staff can manage without you for a while.”

“I’m fine, Severus,” you had replied, smiling at him despite his overbearing attitude. “Besides, I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

He had given you one of his signature looks—a mix of exasperation and something deeper, something softer, that he would never admit to in front of others. “You’re far too stubborn for your own good,” he had muttered before storming off, his robes swirling dramatically around him.

You shook your head fondly at the memory, amused by how protective Severus had become. It wasn’t just the staff he was wary of, but the students as well. You had heard from several sources that he had taken to patrolling the hallways near your classroom during your lessons, his presence enough to intimidate even the bravest of Gryffindors into behaving. There were rumors among the students that he had placed extra wards around your classroom, though you had yet to confirm them.

The door to your office creaked open, pulling you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Minerva McGonagall stepping inside, her stern expression softening into a smile when she saw you. “Good evening, dear,” she greeted warmly. “I just wanted to check in on you before I head to dinner.”

“Good evening, Minerva,” you replied, returning her smile. “I’m managing well, thank you. And how are you?”

Minerva’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, the usual chaos,” she said with a fond sigh. “The Gryffindors are keeping me on my toes, as always. And I hear Severus is keeping you well-protected?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “That’s one way to put it. He’s being Daddy Snape in full force.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the nickname, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Daddy Snape, you say? I dare say he’s earned that title.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of affection for your husband, even if his overprotectiveness could be a bit much at times. “He certainly has,” you said softly, your hand resting on your belly. “He growled at Flitwick today for simply asking to feel the baby kick.”

Minerva chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Poor Filius. I can only imagine Severus’ reaction. But don’t worry, my dear. Severus means well, even if he’s a bit… overzealous in his protectiveness.”

“Yes, I know,” you agreed. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though sometimes I think he’s more afraid of you than anyone else. You’re the only one he allows to touch my belly without glaring daggers.”

Minerva’s eyes twinkled with amusement as she stepped closer, her hand hovering just above your belly. “May I?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile, moving Minerva’s hand to the side where you felt a small kick. “Right there.”

Minerva’s eyes softened as she felt the gentle movement, a warm smile spreading across her face. “He’s going to be a wonderful father,” she said quietly, her gaze meeting yours.

“Yes, he is,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat as you thought about the future. “He’s already so devoted, even if he drives me mad sometimes."

Minerva patted your hand reassuringly before stepping back. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, my dear. But if Severus gives you too much trouble, just let me know. I’ll have a word with him.”

You laughed softly at that. “I’ll keep that in mind, Minerva. Thank you.”

As Minerva left your office, you leaned back in your chair, feeling the baby move again beneath your hand. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Severus and his fierce protectiveness. He might be a pain in the ass, but he was your pain in the ass, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

You were just beginning to relax when the door to your office swung open with a loud bang, and Severus Snape stormed in, his expression a mixture of irritation and concern.

“What did I say about resting?” he demanded, his voice sharp as he approached your desk.

You raised an eyebrow at him, refusing to be intimidated by his tone. “I was resting, Severus. I was just sitting here, minding my own business.”

He huffed, clearly not satisfied with your answer. “You need to be more careful. You’re overexerting yourself, and it’s affecting your magic. I’ve noticed the fluctuations.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Severus, I’m fine. The baby’s fine. You’re just being overprotective.”

“I have every right to be,” he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as he loomed over you. “There are too many dangers, especially with that lunatic Black on the loose.”

You sighed, knowing that Severus’ worries were not unfounded. The news of Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban had shaken the entire wizarding world, and you knew it weighed heavily on Severus, given their complicated history.

“I know you’re worried, Severus,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand. “But I’m safe here. And I have you watching over me.”

His expression softened slightly as he looked down at you, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. “I just want to keep you and our child safe,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“And you are,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “But you don’t need to do it alone. We have Minerva, and the other staff, and even Dumbledore. We’re surrounded by people who care about us.”

Severus sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he seemed to accept your words. “I suppose you’re right,” he muttered, though there was still a hint of reluctance in his tone.

“Of course I’m right,” you teased, smiling up at him. “Now, how about you help me back to our quarters so I can actually get some rest? I think Daddy Snape could use a break too.”

He gave you a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated, but the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Very well,” he said, his tone begrudging. “But don’t think for a moment that I’m going to stop being overprotective. It’s in my nature.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied, standing up and allowing him to wrap his arm around your waist, guiding you out of the office.

As you walked together through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Despite his gruff exterior and overbearing nature, Severus was a man who loved deeply, and you were lucky enough to be the recipient of that love. Even if it meant enduring his overprotectiveness, you knew it came from a place of genuine care and devotion.

And as you leaned into his side, feeling the warmth of his presence, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together—with Severus by your side, and your growing family at the heart of it all.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the cozy warmth of your quarters, the comforting crackle of the fire in the hearth filling the room with a soft glow. The scent of your simple dinner—a warm stew, bread, and some pumpkin juice—wafted through the air. Severus sat across from you at the small dining table, his dark eyes focused intently on the book he held in one hand. The other hand was absentmindedly stirring his stew with his spoon, though it was clear that his mind was far from the meal in front of him.

You watched him with a fond smile, amused by how deeply engrossed he was in his reading. The book’s title, The Art of Parenting: A Wizard’s Guide, was clearly visible, and you stifled a laugh at the intensity with which Severus was absorbing every word. He looked every bit the severe Potions Master as he read, his brow furrowed in concentration, but the subject matter was decidedly different from his usual fare.

"Did you know," he began suddenly, not looking up from the book, "that at five months, our child is approximately the size of a grapefruit? A grapefruit," he repeated, as though the concept was particularly profound. "And according to this, the baby’s bones are starting to harden now. Quite the development."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing out loud. The way Severus delivered this information—with all the seriousness of a professor lecturing on the properties of a rare potion—was both endearing and hilarious. He was so intent on getting everything right, so determined to master the art of fatherhood just as he had mastered potions and the Dark Arts.

He finally looked up from the book, his expression serious. “It also says here that you should be consuming more calcium. It’s essential for the baby’s bone development. I’ve already spoken to the house-elves; they’ll be bringing you more dairy from now on.”

“Severus,” you began, your tone light, “I appreciate your concern, really, but I think you’re worrying a bit too much. I’ve been eating just fine.”

He ignored your reassurances, setting the book down on the table with a decisive thud. “Worrying too much?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “This is our child we’re talking about. I’ll not have anything less than the utmost care taken, especially given the circumstances.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing full well what he meant by “the circumstances.” The looming threat of Sirius Black was never far from his mind, and it only fueled his already fierce protectiveness. “Severus, everything is going to be fine,” you said gently, trying to soothe his frayed nerves. “We’re safe here. And as for the baby, I promise I’m taking care of myself.”

But Severus was not easily placated. “You may be taking care of yourself, but I’ll not have you neglecting anything that could potentially aid in our child’s development.” He leaned forward slightly, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “Did you know,” he continued in that same lecturing tone, “that the baby can now hear sounds from outside the womb? My voice, your voice… even the drivel those dunderheads of Gryffindors spout during class.”

At this, you couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter. The image of your unborn child listening to the Hogwarts students’ chatter was too much to handle. “Severus,” you said, your voice tinged with amusement, “you’re treating this like one of your potion experiments. I half expect you to start measuring out ingredients for a perfect pregnancy potion.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed, though you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You may laugh,” he said darkly, “but this is serious business. Do you think this book exists merely to amuse witches and wizards with idle facts? It’s a manual for the correct upbringing of our offspring.”

“I know it’s serious,” you replied, still smiling. “And I’m glad you’re so invested. But you don’t have to treat it like a potion with exact measurements and timed stirring.”

He sighed, a long-suffering sound, as though he was dealing with a particularly obstinate student. “I simply want to be prepared,” he muttered, glancing down at your belly, his expression softening ever so slightly. “I want to give our child the best start in life. Is that so unreasonable?”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached across the table to take his hand in yours. “It’s not unreasonable at all,” you said softly. “In fact, I think it’s one of the things I love most about you. But remember, Severus, parenting isn’t something you can learn entirely from a book. We’ll figure it out together, one day at a time.”

He held your gaze for a moment, then nodded, his usual stoicism returning. “Perhaps you’re right,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be as informed as possible.” He picked up the book again, flipping through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “And according to this,” he said, his voice taking on that lecturing tone once more, “we should also be preparing the nursery soon. The baby will need a proper environment—calm, quiet, and free from distractions.”

You stifled another laugh, knowing full well that Severus’s idea of a proper environment would likely resemble his own quarters—dark, orderly, and intimidatingly silent. “Calm and quiet,” you echoed. “That sounds about right. But I’m not sure our child will appreciate the dungeon aesthetic as much as you do.”

Severus shot you a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll have you know, dungeons are perfectly suitable for raising a child. They’re secure, temperature-controlled, and free from unnecessary frivolities.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll keep that in mind when we start decorating. Maybe we can paint the walls a nice shade of midnight black?”

He looked at you for a long moment, and then, to your surprise, he let out a low chuckle. It was a rare sound, and it warmed your heart to hear it. “You’re incorrigible,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “But perhaps… a bit of color wouldn’t be entirely out of the question.”

Your grin widened. “See? We’re already compromising. We’re going to be great parents, Sev.”

He looked at you, his expression softening in that way it only did when it was just the two of you. “Yes,” he said quietly, his hand tightening around yours. “I believe we will.”

And as you sat there together, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. The future might be uncertain, and the challenges ahead might be daunting, but with Severus by your side, you knew you could face anything. Even if it meant enduring countless lectures on parenting techniques and the optimal conditions for nursery decor. After all, that was just part of the adventure.

After dinner, Severus insisted on helping you undress and prepare for bed. His hands, usually so precise and controlled in the brewing of potions, were surprisingly gentle as he unbuttoned your robes. The dim light from the fire flickered across his face, casting shadows that deepened the stern lines of his features, but you could see the care in his eyes, even as he kept his expression carefully neutral.

"Severus, you don’t have to do this every night," you teased softly, watching as he folded your robes with meticulous care, his long fingers smoothing out any wrinkles.

He glanced at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "I’m perfectly aware that you are capable of undressing yourself," he replied, his voice its usual low, measured tone. "But considering your current condition, I prefer to ensure that you’re not overexerting yourself."

You smiled, touched by his concern, even if it came wrapped in his typical bluntness. "I appreciate it, truly. But you do realize that pregnancy doesn’t turn me into a delicate flower, right?"

He didn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on helping you into the bath he had prepared. The warm water enveloped you, the scent of lavender filling the air, and you sighed contentedly as you leaned back against the tub’s edge. Severus knelt beside you, his stern face softening slightly as he watched you relax.

"Perhaps not," he said quietly after a moment, his deep voice almost a murmur. "But it does make you and our child more vulnerable. I won’t take any chances."

You reached out to touch his hand, appreciating the rare moment of vulnerability in his words. He allowed the contact, his fingers curling slightly around yours, though his expression remained stoic.

"Thank you, Severus," you whispered, feeling a swell of affection for the man who, despite his gruff exterior, cared so deeply for you and your unborn child.

Later, when you were settled into bed, Severus surprised you by bending down to your belly. His tall, lean figure cast a long shadow over the bed, and you raised an eyebrow, curious about what he was doing. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how to proceed, before finally speaking.

"Now, listen here," he began, his voice taking on that stern, lecturing tone he often used with his students, "I expect you not to pay any attention to the nonsense that the Gryffindors will undoubtedly try to fill your head with. Your father is here to ensure that you grow up with a proper understanding of what it means to be a powerful wizard or witch, a true Slytherin."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, your amusement growing as Severus continued his one-sided conversation with your unborn child.

"You will excel in Potions, of course," he went on, his tone brooking no argument, "and in the Dark Arts as well. I will personally see to it that you are well-versed in the most advanced magical disciplines. No child of mine will be anything less than exceptional."

He paused, as if considering something deeply troubling, and you couldn’t resist asking, "And what if our child is sorted into Gryffindor?"

Severus straightened up immediately, his expression darkening as he fixed you with a glare. "That," he said, his voice cold and firm, "will not happen."

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing at the sheer indignation in his voice. "You can’t control the Sorting Hat, Severus. What if it does happen? Can you imagine? A Gryffindor in our family? The horror!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously, but you could see the flicker of something else—perhaps a bit of horror, mixed with a grudging amusement—beneath the surface. "I’ll have a word with the Sorting Hat, if necessary," he muttered darkly. "There will be no Gryffindors under my roof."

"Really, Severus? You’d try to influence the Sorting Hat? I never knew you were so biased!" you teased, still laughing.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest, looking every bit the brooding Potions Master you had fallen in love with. "It’s not bias," he retorted, his tone icy, "it’s practicality. A Gryffindor child would be… disruptive."

You smiled at him, loving how serious he was taking this hypothetical scenario. "And what would you do if, by some twist of fate, our child did end up in Gryffindor?"

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, a sound full of reluctant resignation. "I suppose," he said slowly, as though the words were being dragged out of him against his will, "I would have to… tolerate it."

You grinned widely, knowing how much it pained him to even consider the possibility. "Tolerate, hmm? That’s quite generous of you, Severus."

He scowled, clearly not amused by your teasing. "Don’t push your luck," he warned, though there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrayed his amusement.

You reached out to him, pulling him down beside you on the bed. He allowed himself to be drawn into your embrace, his usually stiff posture relaxing slightly as you rested your head on his chest.

"Whatever house our child ends up in," you said softly, your voice filled with affection, "they’ll be loved, and they’ll have the best father in the world."

Severus didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the way his hand tightened around yours, a silent acknowledgment of your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than you were used to hearing.

"I’ll do my best," he murmured, his tone almost self-deprecating. "Though I make no promises about how I’ll handle a Gryffindor in the family."

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I’m sure you’ll manage, Severus. You’ve already proven you’re more than capable of handling the unexpected."

He huffed softly, the sound almost a laugh, before wrapping his arms around you more tightly. "Sleep now," he said, his voice returning to its usual firmness. "You need your rest."

You closed your eyes, feeling safe and content in his embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but imagine the future—the laughter, the challenges, the love—and you knew that, no matter what house your child ended up in, you and Severus would face it together.

Even if that meant surviving the potential heart attack Severus would have if his child ever donned the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor.

[ddejavvu]

MEI. MEI, MY MOST FAVORITEST FANFIC WRITER. IVE HAD AN IDEA.

PENELOPE (Garcia) AND READER GOT THEIR PERIOD CYCLES SYNCED, AND SO THEYRE BOTH OVULATING AT THE SAME TIME, AND SO DURING DOWN TIME THEYRE IN GARCIAS OFFICE LOOKING AT BABY PICTURES, AND MORGAN COMES IN, AND READER LOOKS AT HIM AND GOES "Derek, put a baby in me." AND JUST LIKE EKDBJEGDHE

RELATIONSHIP PRE ESTABLISHED OR NOT, IDC, I JUST NEED THIS. 🙏🙏🙏

i love the idea of being cycle synced with penny she's my girl <3

--

"This is my niece," Penelope tilts her phone towards you, and beneath her hello kitty phone charm that dangles in front of the screen, you can see the chubby outline of a baby girl dressed in pink frills and a comically large hairbow.

"Oh, the baby," You gush, voice raising an immeasurable number of octaves, "Her little fingernails are painted pink!"

"I know!" Penelope wails, anguish worked into the wrinkles her frown etches into her face, "God, she's so teeny-tiny and she's such a babbler, she coos at you and she holds onto your finger and she looks at you with these big pretty eyes, and-! I need a baby so bad."

"Me too." You nod resolutely, "Okay - here's the plan. We're gonna go out after work tonight, and the first guy that comes onto us, we're gonna jump him and have his babies."

"Several of them," Penelope catches on, "And we'll send him away and raise them as the BAU's children so that they grow up with Reid's smarts and Emily's kick-assery."

"Amazing. No notes." You stand from the cushy couch in the corner of one of the BAU's rec rooms, "Let's go find ourselves a baby daddy, Penelope."

Before she can stand and join you, the door opens, and your eyes meet the strong, sturdy figure of Derek Morgan. He's clueless as to what he's just walked into, but you study his features briefly.

Strong shoulders. Balanced face. Pretty eyes.

"Derek," You hold your head high, standing strong, "Put a baby in me."

Nothing moves but his eyes, which widen against the smooth tone of his skin. He's effectively frozen in place, and Penelope speaks in his place when she stands beside you and urges, "Me too!"

"We're looking to get pregnant," You explain, which doesn't ease the stiffness in his posture the way you thought it would, "And you seem like a good candidate. Our babies will excel at kicking in doors."

"Uh, that sounds like a concern for a sperm bank, ladies," His voice is slightly weaker than it usually is, but a faint smirk begins to grow on his handsome features, "But I s'pose if you really want, I can open up my own."

"On second thought," Penelope stage-whispers to you, her cherry-flavored lips beside your ear, "I don't want our babies to have his cockiness."

"Hey, you asked me-"

"You're right," You nod back to her, eyes still trained on Derek protesting before you, "Maybe Reid?"

"We'd have to pay for glasses." Penelope laments, "And Hotch's would be born frowning."

"We're out of luck." You sigh morosely flopping back down onto the couch, "The men of the BAU are all disqualified."

"Nuh-uh," Derek grins, something evil glinting in his eye as payback for your earlier teasing. You eye him suspiciously, a distasteful frown already worming its way over your face. But of course, he's Derek Morgan, and he excels at goading. "You forgot Rossi. You ladies ever try Italian sausage?"

[jrob64]

Throwback…Wednesday???

This is the first CS story I ever wrote back in 2018 and it just got some reblogs fsr. It made me feel nostalgic so I decided to reblog it too!

Coming to Her Senses

After her ordeal in the ice cave, Emma Swan awakes the next morning to find that Captain Hook spent the night with her.

Canon compliant piece set after episode 4x02 - White Out & a sequel to Thawing Out by @kymbersmith-90

My good friend Kym wrote a wonderful story for me after we had a conversation about one of our favorite OUAT episodes. Her story inspired my muse and I wrote this story, which takes place the following morning. My everlasting appreciation goes to Kym for her encouragement and knowledge & for teaching an old dog like me the new trick of posting a story. 

And my most sincere thanks goes to @branlovesouat for answering my plea to beta for me. Her support & belief in me gave me the final push to post this story. 

Also found on ao3 and ffn

The daylight peeking through the curtains made Emma Swan squeeze her eyes closed more tightly, but now that she was semi-awake, her senses began to kick in. First, she realized that she was finally warm-extremely warm, actually. After being nearly frozen while trapped in an ice cave the day before, she had spent the rest of the night trying to stop shivering, while coaxing feeling back into her extremities. The cause of her current warmth appeared to be the giant pile of blankets she was curled under, plus the strong arms that were wrapped around her. 

The second thing she noticed was that her pillow felt different. As her mind cleared, Emma realized that it wasn’t a pillow at all, but a solid, manly chest. The hair that covered the chest didn’t feel coarse or prickly, as she might have expected. Instead, it felt soft against her cheek. She tentatively ran her fingers through the hair until she encountered an assortment of metal charms on a chain. This she knew to be Hook’s ever-present necklace. So, it hadn’t been a dream. Captain Hook really had spent the night in her bed with her. 

Emma’s olfactory senses woke up next. She snuggled her nose into Hook’s chest to smell his unique and familiar scent. It was a mixture of ocean salt, fresh air and the lingering hint of leather. She had never been able to understand how he always smelled so good, especially with all the heavy leather clothing he wore while running around chasing after villains. Even in the heat and humidity of Neverland, the man never seemed to break a sweat. 

At last, Emma blinked open her eyes, squinting against the light. Her glance ran up Hook’s face, expecting to see his deep blue eyes looking back at her. She was surprised that they were closed, with his long, dark lashes lying against the tops of his cheeks. 

Seguir leyendo

[thecranberriesslut]

Californication, Pt. 2

Summary: The second part to my fanfic 'series', you and Joel have a late night meet-cute by the pool and you get frustrated.

Pairing: No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 'Cara'

Wc: 3k

Warnings: Big age gap, but still very much legal, (Joel is 40-something, referred to as 'old man', reader is 18, referred to as 'little girl'), dirty themes, dirty talk, smut.

Notes: Second part, hope y'all wanted this because I loved writing it, lmk notes in the comments I'm always looking to improve.

Californication, Pt.3

As you stood near the pool, close to Joel, towel in hand, goosebumps rising on your skin from the slight breeze that had found you the moment you left the warm water, you were lost in thought. You wondered what Joel's issue with insomnia might be when the faint scent of your own orange and cedarwood perfume drifted into your nose. The one you had bought impulsively at the mall after reading in a June Vogue that it was the perfume to drive men wild. You’d sprayed it on earlier that morning, hoping Joel would find your scent irresistible. The swimming had brought the day-old scent back out, and you found a slight comfort in the warm tones.

“Come on, old man—you can tell me.”

You said matter-of-factly, shifting on the still-warm poolside tiles and squeezing the remaining water from your hair, before your new highlights had a chance to turn green.

“What are you doing up this late anyway?”

Joel asked, leaning in slightly to play with the golden necklace your father had given you for your 16th birthday. His voice was low and smooth, like he was sharing an intimate secret at a crowded party. The only way to describe Joel’s overwhelming aura, which usually dominated any room he entered, was smoke in a jazz club. He always smelled like an old artist who had just enjoyed an expensive vanilla cigar with a side of fancy bourbon. You just wanted to lean in and inhale his scent. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms while he talked about whatever boring old (hot) men always went on about.

“I wasn’t getting all 'worked up' in the kitchen earlier.”

You said, your tone suggesting irritation at his earlier accusations. Of course, you had gotten worked up—you wanted him to have his way with you right then and there. But admitting that would be like admitting defeat, and you were not about to lose to a gorgeous, charming—no, mean old man.

Joel smiled knowingly, which only annoyed you further. He kept teasingly fidgeting with your necklace, and his eyes darkened.

“See now you’re lying all over again.”

“You’re my best friend’s father. You shouldn’t be flirting with me.”

It took every ounce of self-control you had in your sexually frustrated body, but somehow, you managed to step back from Joel, freeing his hand from your necklace.

“Is that so? And the way I saw you rubbing your thighs together in the car earlier when my hand brushed against your thigh… that wasn’t you, getting yourself worked up over your best friend's daddy?”

Your lips parted slightly at his crude observation. It was like he could see right through your little facade. You had always considered yourself somewhat of a mystical creature no one could figure out—but Joel… he read you like a book. It was as if he enjoyed torturing you with his words.

“Is that why you can’t sleep, sweet girl?”

He said, his dark eyes displaying fake sympathy. The pet name felt almost derogatory, rather than cute. The surrounding air seemed to turn into hot smoke, and if you breathed it in, you’d be helpless in its mercy.

“What?”

“Did I get you all turned on, poor girl… and now you can’t sleep with the constant tension between your pretty little thighs?”

You instinctively looked down at your feet, but quickly averted your gaze back to him. You had no idea how to defend yourself—maybe you shouldn’t. Potentially, you should just ask him to fuck you into next year and make it all better.

He took a slow, calculated step closer to you, still maintaining a respectable distance. But for you, it felt like he was already halfway inside you. You weren’t naive. Of course, this whole thing—him flirting with you and making moves on you—was wrong. But you couldn’t help but feel helpless in the attraction you felt for him. It was like you were trapped in a web of your own making, and the only way out was fucking Joel Miller. You were 18, right? If it was legal, how wrong could it be?

“Okay… what if you did?”

You said, suddenly exuding the confidence of a Wall Street businessman who had just made millions. Sure, your confidence was half fake, half pure arousal, but if Joel wanted this, you were going to make him take the plunge.

“Well, in that case, I’m awfully sorry. Must be hard for a petite girl like you to properly satisfy her needs after a big bad man got her all worked up.”

This time, your mouth widened with anger, your eyes shooting daggers through Joel’s. Why was he playing all these games, but not willing to actually do anything about it? You decided to be bold. You were not losing this fight. So, slowly, you brought your hand to your back and loosened your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground with a splotch sound, splashing tiny droplets of water on both you and Joel’s feet.

“Nice. How ‘bout you go to sleep, Alex Owens.”

He said, shaking his head and laughing quietly as he turned to walk away. You were confused, angry, and a little cold. The night had gotten cooler during your little meet-cute.

“Huh?”

You yelled from behind him. He had managed to take a couple of steps but stopped in his tracks. This might’ve been one of his obscure references that no one but other parents ever understood.

"Flashdance?"

He said, as though it were common knowledge and you were the idiot who knew nothing about life. You just shook your head in confusion and narrowed your eyes, covering your breasts with your arms.

“God, you’re young.”

He noted disapprovingly as he made his way inside, disappearing behind the patio door. You were left standing there, dumbfounded and more turned on than you’d felt all day.

That fucking asshole.

Finally, you had gotten yourself inside after thirty minutes of sitting on one of the pool chairs like a depressed insomniac, staring at the dark amethyst night sky with little to no stars in sight. You thought about Joel, yourself, and Sarah. You made up a plan to take a shower, change into a cute outfit, and go confront Joel—tell him that you couldn’t do this, and that he needed to stop making flirty comments toward you. Sure, your relationship with Joel had always been a little inappropriate, but now that you were eighteen, it was all getting too real.

As you turned on the shower, the water was immediately hot. It hit your freezing skin, and the contrast felt a little painful at first, but quickly shifted to heavenly. As you scrubbed your hair to get rid of the chlorine, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. You imagined the way he might look in the shower—back muscles tensed, strong, rugged arms scrubbing soap over his body. Would he grunt in pleasure as the first hot drops of water hit his toned chest? Despite being in the shower, your thoughts made you feel dirty. You tried to shake them off as you picked out your after-shower attire: floral-patterned Brandy Melville shorts and a plain white top. You decided to spritz on a couple of sprays of that Vogue perfume before applying a light layer of cherry chapstick.

Slowly, you made your way to Joel's bedroom, kind of excited to see what he had in there. Back home, you were never allowed in Joel’s room when visiting Sarah’s house—he always claimed there was important stuff in there, and that you and Sarah would just make a mess of it. So, you were more than curious to discover what lay beneath Joel’s tough exterior. You wanted to know his psyche—what does a man like Joel pack for vacation?

You knocked softly on the door so as not to wake anyone up. Joel heard your knock and made a small, approving sound, so you decided to open the door. There he was, wearing the same gray sweatpants and white T-shirt as before.

“What's up?”

Joel asked, his tone nonchalant, like he wasn’t just flirting with you by the pool. He was sitting on a king-sized bed, the same white sheets as yours and Sarah’s, holding an acoustic guitar. His eyes locked onto yours intensely, like you had just interrupted his playing.

“Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt… I just wanna talk.”

You said, genuinely regretful for disturbing him. You didn’t wait for an invitation—you just walked into the room, looking around, unsure of what you were even looking for. It looked fairly similar to yours and Sarah’s room—just a little smaller, but with the same white walls, a couple of plants, and a guitar case standing in the corner.

“So talk, Cara.”

He said your name teasingly. You tried to remember what you had come in here to talk about. But seeing him in the faint orange light of a table lamp, his hair falling over his face, and his legs spread as his guitar lay across his lap, your mind went completely blank.

“Are ya sure you didn’t just come in 'ere to stare at my crotch?”

He asked cockily, playing a couple of chords softly on his guitar. It looked effortless, like he was molding it in his hands. You had no idea your corrupted mind could make something as innocent as guitar playing feel sexual.

“Can I try?”

You pointed to the guitar haphazardly, sort of hoping he’d be the responsible adult and say no, ending this game of cat and mouse. You looked into his eyes, and they had grown warmer.

“Sure, sweetheart—just sit on down next to me.”

He smiled as he patted the spot on the bed next to him. You sat down, feeling his body heat radiating onto you. He lifted the guitar from his lap and gently placed it into yours, his hand brushing faintly against your stomach—but to you, it felt electrifying. You placed your hand on the neck of the guitar. It felt big and boxy in your hands, in contrast to how natural it looked in Joel’s.

“Have you ever played before?”

“Uhm… no.”

Joel put his arm around you to guide your fingers into the right spots on the guitar. His hands felt huge and experienced around your smaller ones.

You turned to look at him, his face was perfectly illuminated by the light, the shadows brought out his sharp features and his enigmatic eyes. Out of nowhere, you leaned over and pressed your lips to his, it probably felt uncoordinated and adolescently gentle to him. To your surprise, he kissed you back tenderly, his hand fell from the guitar to your waist and his tongue fought its way into your mouth, like it was fighting for dominance. He tasted like whiskey and a faint note of cigarette smoke. you knew from Sarah, that he only smoked sporadically, when he felt particularly anxious or angsty. He pulled away and looked at you, his intense gaze pierced right through your eyes and into your soul.

“Now, now… bad girl.”

He smiled, while softly scolding you. You lifted the guitar out of your lap and placed it on the floor, you moved closer to Joel on the bed.

“Come on— Joel.”

You whined, making that puppy dog look with your eyes, that got you your new phone last may. You made the bold move of taking Joel's hand and pulling it into your lap, but Joel was quick to pull his hand away.

“I'm not sure what you want, lil' girl.”

He said smugly, staring at you through hooded eyelids. You made a pained face and squirmed in your position on the side of the bed.

“Yes you do. You've been teasing me for so long… come on!”

“What if ya were to ask me real nicely?”

“What, you want me to beg? I'm not begging.”

You turned to face away from him, crossing your arms in irritation, you tried to make it believable, that if he didn't do something, you would leave. But you couldn't leave, it was like Joel had cast a spell on you, and it invaded your every thought with Joel, Joel… Joel. He just kept his unwavering attention on you, observing, annoyingly sure that you would eventually do what he told you to.

“Please…”

You caved. He smiled a devilish smile, but then dropped it, he spoke.

“Please— what?”

“Please have sex with me.”

This was your rock bottom, and he was smiling again, about to say something even more smug and infuriating.

“Please have sex with me, who?”

“Mr.— Miller…?”

You hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to call him.

“Good girl… no.”

You saw red. What the fuck did he mean 'no', he made you beg. He humiliated you, all to say no. You looked at him with wild eyes, like you'd imagine a coyote would look at a hunter who had just killed the coyote's entire family.

“What the fuck, Joel?”

You said, almost yelling. Joel noticed and roughly placed his hand onto your mouth to keep you quiet, you could wake up the whole house.

“Listen, kiddo— I won't fuck ya, it feels way too wrong… but I feel real bad for messin' with you, so I'll take care o' ya.”

You wanted to protest, but his hand on your mouth was stopping you. He gave you a look that said 'calm down', so you took a couple of breaths through your nose and showed him you were calm. He removed his hand, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Joel stood up and his velvety, now a little rougher voice interrupted you.

“Lay on your back and take off your pants.”

You were shocked, shocked at his words, even more shocked at their effect on you. But now your entire brain was turned off, Joel was looming over you, observing your reaction. You slowly slid your shorts off and laid down on the bed anxiously, fidgeting with your top. Joel walked closer slowly, menacingly— like a hungry lion.

“Who knew that inside that naughty girl was a slut who's willin' to follow instructions.”

His words were mean, crude. But his voice felt like the dark hum of a vibrator, it was like only his voice could make you come better than your own hands ever could. Joel put his hand on your ankle, slowly bringing it up your leg. The motion was torturous, you almost wanted to protest, but something inside of you knew that it wasn't a good idea. After a while of ticklish torture, his hand stopped on your upper thigh, inches from the place you needed him the most.

“Are you sure you want this?”

He asked, his voice not so much concerned, as degrading. He was just stalling— he wanted you to feel tortured. You couldn't take it anymore. His hand felt like it was on fire, and you were desperate.

“Yes! Please, Joel.”

“Eager lil' girl, huh?”

He slipped his hand into your panties, it took you by surprise, you almost made a sound, but he noticed right before and brought his other hand to cover up your mouth again.

Is it fucked up that I actually love this serial killer-esque mouth covering thing…?

You thought to yourself, as his middle finger found your most sensitive spot. You figured he was done stalling, because he started to rub increasing in speed circles on your bud, as he stared into your eyes with intensity that was bordering on frightening. Not only that, but you couldn't even focus on his gaze, because you were seeing stars. The whole situation felt oddly grotesque. You whimpered behind his hand, but it effectively blocked all your sounds and all that was left were tiny, pathetic squeaks. He increased the speed of the circles, and you could already feel yourself spilling over the edge. He kept the speed up until your entire body spasmed a couple of times, and you were sure you made a sound that sounded closer to a cat dying than an orgasm. To your surprise, Joel kept his hand drawing slow circles onto your clit as he removed his hand from your mouth. You could do nothing but stare at him, mouth wide open, eyes rolled halfway back into your head.

He stopped his movements and pulled his hand out of your white cotton panties, he smiled at you and narrowed his eyes.

“Now you go to sleep, sweetheart, and I stay up thinkin' 'bout how fast I made your poor little pussy come.”

[hikarry]

I would love to read a fanfic where Crowley is actually an arsehole. Like, filthy rich, big house, the Bentley (cause, you know, of course), has the best clothes, clearly an alcoholic and has a shit tone of one night stands always with different men. He lives in the wild side of life with daddy's money so he is a complete bitch to everyone and everyone is afraid of him in his daddy's company where he works

That is, until a new secretary arrives and Crowley at first finds him weird and absolutely out of fashion, so he low-key bullies him in the first day, but the man doesn't even quiver. Like, he is not afraid of him whatsoever, and he never answers back to Crowley's provocations. He either ignores them or answers politely with a smile on his face. And that intrigues Crowley to hell and back.

He starts stopping by the man's workplace to actually just...talk. He even brings him tea once or twice until it becomes like a ritual.

When Crowley notices, he hasn't slept with anyone in 4 months and that secretary has him wrapped around his little finger. And hey, the man is very charming. And sweet. And polite. And his eyes change between blue and grey and that's captivating. And his hair looks so bloody fluffy. And he can't get his voice or his smile that could light up the whole world out of his mind. And...fuck, he had a huge crush on the secretary, didn't he? He hasn't had a crush since high school! He was not made for being loved. He was too broken and rotten for that. And yet the secretary always offered him a smile whenever they talked.

Did the secretary have a crush on him too?

Your guess

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 6)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ Evan and Y/N are back in LA. When he dares Y/N to wear vibrating panties at his friend’s party, things go from flirty to explosive. What starts as a cheeky challenge turns into a heated race to the guest room, where they unleash an erotic showdown of throbbing heat and raw need. Just as their passion peaks, a shocking announcement throws their world suddenly into chaos. 

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, vibrator teasing, overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, pinned against the wall, doggie, extra smutty—it’s the norm by now ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

Word count ─ 4.5K (they’re getting longer, you guys 😱)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

The evening sun dips below the horizon, bathing your apartment in a warm, honeyed glow. You adore these longer days—they make everything feel more alive. You saunter across the room, the hem of your mini skirt flaring and swishing around your thighs. Your outfit hugs your body like a second skin, leaving just enough to the imagination.

Your phone screen catches your eye, gleaming in the dim light. 21:16. You’re officially late for the party, and you can’t shake the nagging feeling that you should be rushing out the door. “Evan, we’re gonna miss all the fun if we don’t hurry,” you call out, trying to keep the urgency from creeping into your voice as you spritz on your favourite perfume.

Evan lounges on the couch, long arms draped over the sides and legs stretched out, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Chill, baby. Fashionably late is our brand,” he defends with a confident wink.

A script lies forgotten across his lap, the pages flipping slightly from the ceiling fan overhead. He’s petting Rufus, your housemate Mayra’s Siamese cat, who purrs contentedly beside him. Mayra had barely returned from NYC before jetting off to Turkey to tend to her ill dad. With no time to get Rufus’ travel documents in order, he stayed behind, leaving you in charge of his care. You couldn’t ask for a better arrangement, to be honest.

Evan’s eyes are not on the words bouncing across the page in front of him; they’re on you and with a laser-focused intensity that makes the room feel a few degrees hotter. You sense his gaze tracking your every move as you flit from room to room; he traces the way your hair smoothly cascades over your bare shoulders, following the delicate arch of your back and the fabric clinging onto the curve of your ass just right.

His eyes linger, greedily drinking in every inch of your body as you rifle through your porcelain jewellery box. His gaze feels like a warm caress, drawn to the rhythmic sway of your hips with every stride, your smooth skin glowing under the light. Your bare feet make no sound on the plush carpet, but the air between you two seems to crackle like a live wire.

You pick out a discreet rose gold necklace, clasping it around your neck so it flows over your protruding collarbones.

“Are you gonna stare all night, or do I need to start charging for tickets?” you tease huskily, glancing over your shoulder with a sly smirk.

He chuckles, a rich rumble that sends a delightful tingle across your skin. “If I had to pay for a view like this, I’d be flat broke. I’m not sure I’m ready to share you with anyone else’s eyes tonight. Maybe we should skip the party and stay in,” he taunts, waggling his brows with a suggestive crooked smile.

Although his deep voice purrs with a seductive charm that always sends a shiver down your spine, you shake your head with a mischievous grin. “How about no? Nice try, but we’re going. So, get your adorable ass off that couch and put on your shoes, handsome.”

You head to your bedroom to grab your shoes and jacket, feeling his eyes trained on you. “Looks like you and Rufus are hitting it off, despite your die-hard dog obsession,” you mock as you pace back to the living room, fluffing your hair in the mirror with a casual toss.

He nods in agreement as he gently scratches behind Rufus’ ears. “We’re practically besties, but there’s only one pussy I’m interested in tonight,” he spills out, his lips curling into a knowing grin.

You catch his reflection in the mirror, snorting at his bold remark. “Is that so?” you coo, eyebrows raised, your voice dripping with feigned surprise.

There’s a wicked, predatory glint in his eyes as he slips off the couch with fluid confidence, nodding. In an instant, he’s beside you, his arms sliding around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. He brushes his chin along the nape of your neck, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your shoulder blade as he lets out a shallow breath into the shell of your ear.

“You know, miss, you’re making it very hard to concentrate on anything but you,” he rasps, his tone a low, intimate murmur that makes your insides flutter.

He peppers kisses along your shoulder until his lips find your earlobe, taking it between his teeth for a gentle nibble that makes your breath hitch and your pulse quicken. His arm glides across your stomach, splaying possessively on your hip, while the other hand sneaks up under your top. The electric feel of his fingertips cupping your tits and tugging at your hard nipples forces a gasp out of you.

“Evan,” you manage to huff out, trying to wiggle free from his grasp, but his robust arms only tighten around you. Each breath you take stutters in your chest as you struggle to form a coherent thought. “We gotta go.”

“No, we don’t,” he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he leans in to kiss the sensitive spot just below your jawline. “Come on,” he pleads and pulls you back in, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves love bites along your flesh. “We’ve got a few minutes for a little appetiser before the main course, right?”

“We’re already late, Evan, and you’re not exactly helping,” you growl lowly through gritted teeth, playfully swatting his hands away. You’re giving him a reality check, but the scratchy undertone in your voice betrays your growing arousal.

“I could help you out of these clothes, though,” he blurts out with a smug smile, his arms glued around your waist, making your heart race even faster. You can feel the hard lines of his body as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your top. 

“It’s just a house party, no biggie. My friends are cool with it…but you’re too hot to handle… and I’m having a very haaard time keeping cool,” he rambles, his face buried in your hair. He inhales a deep whiff of your jasmine scent, his hands roaming hungrily over your curves. 

“Evan, we won’t get outta here if you keep this up,” you chide tenderly, though your words tumble down breathless and wanting.

Every fibre of your body screams at you to resist, to not let him fuck up into you. Even when his crotch is hard of rocket magnitude and leaking for you, and he’s only intelligible for a mere “Just sit on it, baby, please.” 

Even when he’s mindlessly babbling utter nonsense crap because he truly has nothing in his head but the feel of your hot, wet pussy restlessly sliding over his cock until he loads you up to the brim.

Even when all you want is to play with his angered red tip, pull it back to open his little slit up and make him mewl, a chocked oh my fucking god, please escaping him. Even when you press his cockhead to your clit and rub it around, slapping it relentlessly on your cunt, and he implores you to stop.

“Evan…” your voice a breathy whisper as he hikes up your skirt, his feather-light touch making your cunt pulsate. He hums as his hands travel over your torso, now slowly and tortuously snaking underneath your skirt. “It’s not nice...your friends are waiting for u-u-s,” you trail off, your tone dying out as you feel his erection nudging insistently against your lower back.

You love the hard press of his boner against you. It makes your heart thud and your pussy drip, knowing you’re the sole source and cause of all that raw desire.

“We need to leave-e…” you protest weakly, torn between the ticking clock and the sinful temptation to stay and get laid. But your voice lacks conviction as he drags kisses down your shoulders, each one more insistent and heady than the last.

He chuckles softly, sensing the crack in your resolve. “We can, don’t worry,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending electric jolts down your core. “I’ll make it worth every second.”

Deftly unzipping your skirt from behind, his hands—firm and decisive—massage your ass as he leans in, peering into your panties. The sight of your black thong on full display makes him suck in a sharp breath and instinctively squeeze your waist in his strong hands.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N,” he hisses, voice thick with lust and just a hint of disbelief, like he can’t believe his luck. You let out a soft mewl as his erection grinds between your ass cheeks, almost spreading them apart with its intensity. The heat of his body seeps into you, and you can practically feel your slick pooling, turning your thoughts into a jumbled mess.

His lips find your neck again, this time more urgent and harsher, nibbling at your skin with a fervour that makes your brain go all mushy. You wince reflexively, but the brief sting melts into pleasure as his tongue laps over the forming hickey, soothing the bruise with gentle strokes. 

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonising slowness. Just as you’re about to speak, his fingers slide against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you lose all train of thought. You moan, tilting your head to grant him better access, your fingers threading into his hair to massage his scalp, holding him close.

His free hand moves over yours, and you guide his fingers towards your bundle of nerves. “Oh, shit,” he hushes, his breath hot and laboured against your skin. His thumb brushes against your plump lips, parting them gently to reveal the soaked slit of your beautiful pussy.

“Imagine my dick drowning in these waters,” he mumbles more to himself, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you firm. His hips rub against you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the friction making you arch into him, craving more of the pleasure he promises with every motion.

“Evan…” you breathe, the sound barely audible over your thundering pulse. But he hears you perfectly. His lips curve into a devilish grin against your neck as his fingers continue their teasing dance, sliding through your wetness with practised ease.

His thumb circles your clit with maddening slowness, and you can feel the heat swimming in your belly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. His other hand grips your hip, anchoring you to him as he rubs against you. The pressure of his cock, still slotted between your ass cheeks, is a constant reminder of how desperately he needs himself inside you.

When he plunges two fingers through your sobbing walls, you mewl loudly. Your hands clutch at his shirt as your arousal splashes across your lower abdomen, trickling down your thighs. The sensation makes your legs quiver, begging to clamp together, but he keeps them firmly apart, teasing you with a wicked smile. He purposefully pops his fingers out just to smear your slick juices over your entrance before brushing his thumb along your swollen clit, and then sliding back in.

You bite your lip, your knees buckling, choked moans escaping as you watch his fingers disappear beneath you. They stretch your cunt, his index and middle fingers screwing and twisting just enough to draw a series of desperate whimpers from your lips. The way they press against your sensitive, gummy walls makes you feel deliciously full.

“I-I need my cock in here like…yesterday,” he huffs out, his voice strained with lust. His eyes flicker between your face—your brows furrowed, jaw slack with uncontrollable pleasure—and your beautiful sex clenching around his fingers.

“Evan,” you moan again, more insistently this time, your tone quiet yet desperate. His fingers probe in and out, deep in your cunt at an excruciatingly slow pace, curling expertly until the knot in your stomach stiffens. You can feel yourself spasming around him, your body on the edge of bliss. 

You know you’re losing this battle, but a part of you doesn’t care. Not when he’s making you feel like this. 

“T-t-tell me what you want, baby,” he dares in a passionate whisper. He keeps working his fingers in sync with your choppy breaths, angling them just enough to tease your deeper spots.

“I want more,” you exhale, every word laced with despair. “Finish me up,” you plead, and your eyes lock onto him. His dick twitches needily, responding to every tug of his fingers and the wanting moans gushing from your throat.

He lets out a dark chuckle as his fingers pump in and out, his knuckles sinking in through your arousal. “Consider it done,” he fires back, his voice a low growl as he swipes his fingers left and right with rapid precision. The messy, obscene sounds of your slick, wet cunt echo through the room, making him impossibly harder.

Your thighs twitch and ache with every deep plunge, instinctively trying to close around his hand that’s practically fucking you into exquisite sensitivity. Your hand wraps around his forearm, an attempt to slow him down, but it’s like trying to stop a freight train with a feather. Your nails bite into his skin, forming little half-moon indentations.

He laughs breathlessly, his teeth scraping your sensitive flesh as he ruthlessly works you over. His eyes are on your flushed face from the side, watching how your expression shifts with every thrust, your cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. He smirks at the sound, utterly captivated by your body’s reactions.

“You sound so pretty,” he grunts, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milk small sobs out of you. “You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he hushes, lips caressing your neck. Your pussy practically moulds around his slender fingers, holding them captive as you claw at him, your orgasm building and rolling through you like a storm about to break.

Evan groans, his arm veins (aka your fetish) popping out, the muscles in his shoulders straining against his shirt as he picks up speed. Your moans become louder, your breathing erratic and desperate.

“Cum for me, baby girl, would you?” he sighs, smacking your ass with his free hand as his clothed erection rages against you, demanding attention.

You nod eagerly, your eyes darting down to his bulge, wanting to reach out and feel him through the fabric. But he’s quick to catch your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it with surprising tenderness. “This is your moment,” he whispers, his voice filled with possessive intent. “I want you fully here with me, no distractions.”

Was that a man written by Olivia Laing, directed by Sofia Copolla and sung by Lana Del Rey? Just sayin’...

He dips inside you all the way to the hilt, upping his pace and rubbing tight figure eights against your clit like he’s discovered a new hobby. He mutters a string of curses under his breath as he watches your pussy swell around him, your clit throbbing under his relentless touch. You’re milliseconds away from an earth-shattering climax when an unexpected clatter slices through the air.

Rufus, your ever-watchful feline roommate/guardian, has knocked his metal off the dining table, sending it clanging across the floor like a gong of doom. His eyes are on you both with a judgmental glare, as if he’s caught you skipping class to make out behind the bleachers. It’s like he’s planned this interruption—a well-curated, meticulously premeditated offence.

You both flinch, gasping at the sudden chaos that shatters the moment. Evan snickers, reluctantly pulling away, his fingers shiny with the evidence of your disrupted freaky time. You lock eyes with Rufus, who’s perched on the table like a miniature tyrant, his tail flicking, clearly unfazed by your antics.

“Your son’s hungry,” Evan quips, smirking as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your cum with exaggerated flair, humming at your taste. “Perfect timing, really. The little guy just wants to make sure you’re not having more fun than him.”

You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him as you smooth out your clothes with hurried hands, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Rufus is a more responsible and diligent adult than us,” you mutter, adjusting your top. “Honestly, he’d make a great personal assistant if he didn’t have such a lousy attitude.” 

Rufus merely blinks, unimpressed, as you dash off to the kitchen to grab his food, trying to ignore the lingering heat between your thighs. But behind you, Evan’s throaty chuckle reverberates across the room, making your knees weak all over again.

“Shoes, please,” you call over your shoulder as you scoop kibble into Rufus’ bowl, trying to maintain some authority. “We’re leaving, Evan… like now. And not a second later, or I’m dragging you by your shirt collar. Don’t make me put on my mum voice.” 

“Woo, feisty,” he teases, puckering his lips mischievously as he slides on his shoes, still flushed and grinning like a naughty schoolboy. You shoot him a glare, trying to stay serious, but your lips twitch with amusement.

He throws his hands up in feigned remorse, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine,” he concedes, though his eyes light up with mischief. “But I’m definitely picking up where I left off.” 

You glance back at him as you set Rufus’ food down. “And what does this mean, Peters?” you challenge him, tongue grazing your side teeth. Your curiosity is piqued, wondering just how far he’s willing to go once you’re back alone together.

Rufus sniffs his food approvingly, tossing you a look that says, Finally some service in this house as he begins to eat with regal disinterest, tail swishing like a sceptre.

Evan disappears briefly, and you hear him rummaging through his bag. When he returns, he’s got a small box behind his back, and the tension in the room skyrockets with each passing second.

He slowly pops the lid off, each moment stretching out as you watch, breathless with anticipation. “Are you gonna propose?” you squeak, already half-freaking out at the prospect.

He bursts out laughing. “Close enough… but not yet,” he cheers, eyes drown in yours, eager and mischievous, as you peek inside to find a burgundy bullet vibrator nestled in a cocoon of velvet.

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the object, a swirl of thoughts crashing through your mind. “You didn’t,” you gasp, eyes almost bulging off their sockets. 

Evan’s fingers stroke lightly over the smooth, silky silicone. “Oh, I did,” he murmurs, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “I want you to wear this. To the party.”

“You’re joking. What’s that for?” you ask, suspicion lacing your voice as you eye the device like it’s a ticking time bomb.

“It’s my hand’s substitute,” he quips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thought it’d make the party more… stimulating,” he adds with a wink. “It’s a night out and a night in, all rolled into one.”

Your jaw drops as the implications hit you. “Evan, you wouldn’t dare in front of all those people.”

“Oh, yes, I would,” he counters, brandishing a small remote like it’s the ultimate power tool. “Let’s see if you can behave yourself,” he dares, his thumb hovering tantalisingly over the on-off button. “I’ll have you buzzing all night, baby. All highs, no lows.”

You shake your head, biting your lip between excitement and disbelief. “You’re impossible,” you giggle, your voice barely above a breathless whisper.

He steps closer, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless, his lips moving with a hunger that makes you tremble. “Only when it comes to you,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. “And I promise to be gentle…most of the time, ma’am,” he continues, tailing it all off with a teasing soldier salute.

The bass from Gorillaz’s Feel Good Inc. thumps through the walls as you step into the house. The party’s already in full swing, laughter and joyful chatter floating up from every corner. Evan’s hand is a warm, reassuring weight on your lower back, steering you through the crowd like he’s the captain of this chaos.

Your outfit is drawing more than a few admiring glances as you weave through the throng of partygoers. If only they knew about the little secret buzzing beneath it all—a pair of vibrating panties, locked and loaded, with Evan holding the remote like it’s his personal plaything. His grin is downright wicked, a mix of triumph and mischief, like he’s got you on a leash, promising both pleasure and torment. You swallow hard, anticipation pooling low in your belly.

As you tread past the other guests, you catch sight of a few familiar faces from past outings with Evan during the nine months you’ve been together. There’s Mike, the self-proclaimed beer pong king, who’s always boasting about his legendary tournaments, with Evan often being the unfortunate opponent. And then there’s Lily, your lovely girly pop, who wouldn’t be caught dead without her portable fan, waving it like she’s a Southern belle about to faint from the heat. 

You bump into Jake, your host, who’s holding court by the swimming pool with a group of friends. As soon as he spots you both, his face lights up, breaking into a wide grin.

“There they are! The dynamic duo!” Jake bellows, raising his solo cup in a toast as he swaggers over, pulling you both into a hearty bear hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Evan assures, his grin expanding. “Heard you were rolling out the red carpet just for us.”

“How else would I welcome the celebrities, eh?” Jake hoots, playfully thumping Evan’s arm like it’s a punching bag. “And look at my boy, all beefed up for Tron after that Dahmer famine. Y/N’s keeping you well-fed, I see,” he jests, wrapping Evan into a playful headlock and rubbing his head like a proud big brother.

Evan lets out a hearty laugh, pretending to struggle. “What can I say? She’s a miracle worker. Took me from beanpole to beefcake in record time!”

“Had to get him back on his feet, didn’t I?” you quip, watching Evan flex his muscles dramatically like he’s auditioning for a superhero movie. The exaggerated poses have you all in stitches. “Careful, those guns are a safety hazard,” you exclaim, poking his bicep.

Jake rolls his eyes, still grinning. “Well, you’ll need those muscles to handle the drinks tonight. They’re stronger than ever, so pace yourselves,” he warns, winking like he’s letting you in on juicy gossip.

You exhale loudly, placing the back of your hand to your forehead in mock drama. “Are we talking rocket-fuel strong? Got anything that won’t make me see double in two sips?” you ask, giving Jake a playful nudge.

Jake gasps in mock outrage, clutching his chest. “Hey, I’m practically a mixologist now,” he grumbles, acting deeply wounded by your lack of faith. 

Just then, you feel Evan’s hand slipping into his pocket. You know what he’s up to, but before you can react, your panties spring to life with a gentle buzz. The loud Maroon 5 playlist drowns out the sound, but it doesn’t stop the sudden bolt of pleasure that zips through you. You inhale sharply, eyes widening.

Evan inspects you with a sidelong look and a mischievous gleam in his eyes, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Everything okay, Y/N?” he asks, feigning innocence like he’s not the one flicking the damn remote buttons in his pocket.

You cast him a death-stare, running a shaky hand through your hair. “Oh, just peachy,” you croak, forcing a smile towards Jake while the vibrations catch deliciously against your clit and slit. It’s a struggle to keep your knees from buckling, but you’re determined not to give Evan the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, my love, would you?”

Evan grins, his expression the epitome of mischief. “Not a clue.” 

“Maybe it’s the party vibe getting to you,” Jake retorts, snapping his fingers as the music swells. “Let me whip you up something real quick. You’ll be singing my praises for my drink by the end of the night. Be right back.”

As soon as Jake’s out of earshot, you lean closer to Evan, lowering your voice to a hushed yet playful mumble. “You’re such a bastard,” you hiss, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as another wave of pleasure ripples through you. “I’m gonna get you back for this,” you mutter, but you bite your lip to supress your moans, dulling the sharpness of your threat.

His hearty laugh engulfs you, clearly showing how much fun he’s having with your delightful predicament. “I’d like to see you try, baby girl,” he taunts, giving your waist a gentle squeeze and your lips a set of loving pecks. “Besides, I think you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on.”

You click your tongue and narrow your eyes at him, trying to act nonchalant despite the relentless vibrations. “You just wait, Mr. I-think-I’m-so-clever,” you begin, but he shuts you up by crashing his lips against yours. His tongue raids in your mouth, like he’s claiming it, while his left hand wanders up to fondle your breast with playful desperation.

Without warning, Lily sidles up beside you. “Hey guys,” she cries out, arms wide open as she air-kisses you both. “Oops, am I interrupting your get-a-room moment? Long time no see! Y/N, my stunner. What’s your secret? A killer workout routine, or just pure happiness? I swear, I’m trying to drop some fat, but those damn fries keep calling my name,” she rambles, pouting in frustration. 

You laugh nervously, struggling to focus on Lily’s chatter over the persistent, teasing pulse of the vibrator that Evan has intentionally set to a teasing low. “Uh… you know, Lily… I-I. It’s mostly yoga and... m-maybe...uh a little too much caffeine,” you stammer, doing your best to mask the delicious distraction fluttering between your legs. 

“Or maybe it’s a little too much of Evan’s company,” she teases with a mischievous wink. 

Evan chuckles, his eyes dancing with a roguish glint as he casts you a sidelong glance that says more than words ever could. “I like to think I’m a positive influence,” he quips, his hand tightening on your lower back as he plants a kiss on your forehead. His gaze hints at a playful secret, clearly plotting something.

Just then, Jake struts back over, handing you a drink with an exaggerated flourish. “One cocktail for the fair lady,” he declares dramatically. “Tell me this doesn’t taste like heaven.”

You take a sip, and the fruity concoction explodes on your tongue like a carnival parade. “Alright, I’ll give it to you, Jake. This one’s a keeper,” you cheer, nodding appreciatively.

Jake bows deeply, puffing out his chest with mock pride. “You’re welcome, Y/N!” he sings, standing tall with exaggerated poise, as if he’s accepting an award for best bartender. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, chicos, I’ve got more magic to conjure.” With a final spin and a wink, he leaves you and Evan to your own devices, his exit as theatrical as his entrance.

The garden is a dimly lit dance floor, pulsing with the beat of the music. You and Evan are wrapped up in each other, swaying to the rhythm.

“God, I love this song,” he purrs, his body pressed close to yours, moving in perfect harmony. “But I love you more.” 

“I love you too,” you mouth, smiling bashfully, as you reach up and tangle your fingers through his hair, tugging him down for a kiss. It’s soft at first, a teasing brush of lips, but swiftly escalates into something rougher. His tongue sweeps past your lips, exploring and tasting, invading your mouth. You lose yourself in the kiss, the world around you fading into a blur of tunes and arousal. 

A group of friends gathers around, joining in a spontaneous dance choreo. You raise your drink to your lips, savouring the moment, when suddenly the vibrations crank up, hitting you like a jolt of electricity. You cough, nearly choking on your drink and almost dropping the glass. A wave of pleasure crashes through you, finally making your knees buckle. You gasp loudly, your face burning bright red. Lily pats your back, her concern evident as she watches you with raised eyebrows, while Evan’s grin stretches impossibly wider.

Evan vs Y/N 15 - 0

As the night wears on, you’re deep in conversation with Lily about her latest dating disaster—a guy who thought karaoke night was a perfect first date and that feminism is just an overhyped fad—when Evan decides it’s the perfect moment to dial up the levels to the max because…he can. The panties whir harder, the palpitation surge ruthlessly. You clutch the edge of the table for support, covering your mouth to stifle any sounds, praying no one notices your red-hued cheeks.

Lily, ever observant, glances at you, her head tilted with curiosity. “You okay, Y/N?” she asks, frowning slightly with worry.

You force a twitching smile, your eyes watering as you nod vigorously. “Yeah, just...really into the party,” you slur, your words catching in your throat, and you hope your tone doesn’t give off the sweet agony you’re enduring.

Evan, ever the tease, smirks at you from across the room, clearly pleased with himself. He raises his glass in a mock toast, enjoying the little game he’s orchestrated.

You give him a look that promises retribution. You swear, you’re going to wipe that smug look off his face later.

Lily heads straight for the buffet, giving you a perfect chance to escape the outdoor mayhem. Realising the downstairs bathroom is occupied, you make your way to the one upstairs. Evan floats up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. His beer bottle presses against your hip bones, and his hot breath against your ear makes your core shudder.

“Having fun?” he purrs, his tone velvety and inviting. Before you can catch a breath and reply, he spins you around and hammers his lips against yours. His tongue dives into your mouth again, taking charge with an eager frenzy that leaves your senses reeling. He’s kissed you a hundred times tonight, but each one sends you spinning into another freaking dimension.

You don’t mind the way his lips are bruising yours with each expert tilt of his head. His hands glide down, and with a playful smack on your ass, you groan into the kiss. He always kisses you senseless, leaving you breathless, aching and craving for more. 

You draw in a shaky breath as you try to regain your footing. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” you coo, tucking a stray curl of hair behind his ear, “or I’d be prepping up some serious revenge right about now.”

Evan lets out a playful giggle, his lips brushing yours as he leans in for another fiery kiss. “I’d be seriously disappointed if you weren’t,” he rasps against your mouth, his voice hoarse and filled with mischievous intent.

“You’re such a troublemaker.” Once again, you try to sound stern, but the twinkle in your eye gives you away as you start for the bathroom.

But Evan’s having none of it. He slams his arm against the doorframe, effectively boxing you in. “I know,” he growls softly, his voice laced with lust. “But you love it.”

“You wish,” you hum, teasingly pinching his cheek. As you try to sidestep him and go back to the party outside, he shifts with you, his body melding into yours, blocking your every escape route.

“We’re not leaving until I fuck you.”

A shudder of arousal runs down your spine at his statement and the gruffness of his voice. You arch an eyebrow, trying to stay composed despite the heat rising between you. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Begging you for my freedom?”

He chuckles darkly as he gives you a once-over, his eyes flashing with raw desire. “No, you look like you want me inside you,” he fires back, your heart thumping wildly like it’s going a mile in a minute, and you struggle to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Y/N, I don’t think you quite understand how much I want you.” There’s a short distance between you as he’s looming over you, his breath scorching hot on your neck. “Every time you try to move, it just hits me how badly I need you.”

You shiver intensely as his words ignite a fiery thrill inside you. Trying to ignore the way his body is pressed firmly against yours, you clear your throat and force a playful grin. “Well, you know, a little public pressure never hurt anyone.”

His lips form a wicked smile as he walks you backwards, step by step until your back hits open the door of one of the guest rooms. Pushing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarls, “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now. If I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m taking you out there in front of the whole damn party.”

You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your top as his hands move over your skin, with a confident yet affectionate grasp. They cup your ass beneath your skirt and drag you closer. You think you can tamp down the soft groan trapped in your throat, but you’re sorely mistaken when it tumbles down, strained and punchy, without remorse. 

“So what’s it gonna be, Y/N? In this room or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your call,” he insists, his tone both commanding and mischievous, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I-in here,” you stutter.

The Cheshire cat smirk you receive in return spikes your nerves even higher. “Bingo.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, he hoists you up into his arms with powerful ease. The door clicks shut behind you with a definitive thud as he smothers the little squeal ripped from you with his lips. The new angle allows him to roughen the kiss even more, and you feel every tensing muscle of his body against yours.

He wastes no time—he dives in like he’s starving, tongue slashing into your mouth with hungry urgency, fighting for dominance like always. His slurred groans vibrate against your lips, his tongue darting and flicking against yours. A zing of electricity shoots straight to your pussy, and you’re clumsily fumbling with his clothes to get them off him—buttons popping, belt clinking, a flurry of desperate hands.

In a swift, flawless motion, he strips you off your skirt and top, tossing them aside with a flick of his wrist before gently laying you on the bed. You perk yourself up on your elbows, staring up at your boyfriend’s towering stature. Your chest heaves with exhilaration, imagining the joy of having his load spilling inside you.

Still holding his beer like a trophy, he unzips the fly of his trousers with excruciating suspense. He shuffles them down just past his ass until his cock bounces out. You gasp at the sight; he really is hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein bulging from his thick length is anything to go by. He’s throbbing—you can see his dick viciously twitching with needy desire, sending another gushing wave of slick pouring out of your eager pussy.

As he kicks off his pants, he pounces on top of you, his rock-hard erection rubbing continuously against your slick folds. His mouth slips down your collarbone, igniting trails of fire as they move up to your neck. Each kiss is a jolt as his lips sloppily slide along yours, both of you swallowing each other’s moans.

“I’ve been dreaming about those sweet lips of yours all night,” he murmurs, his voice a heavy, lustful whisper that vibrates through you. “But not these ones.” He nibbles gently at your nipple, his breath hot and sensual against your flesh. He releases the area with a resounding pop before continuing his sweet ordeal, kissing up the column of your throat to your jaw and then finally your lips. “I wanna make out with your bottom lips until you crumble to dust in my hands.”

The thought of his mouth on you, his nose deep on the ridge of your clit while his tongue plunges deep into your gummy walls, lost in the sauce, sends a spark of excitement rushing through your veins. Those wet, slow licks across your slit until his chin drips with your juices…my god.

But as his hand and mouth drift lower to your sensitive bud, your playful defiance takes over. With a mischievous grin, you flip him over with a strength that makes even you recoil in surprise. You straddle him, pressing your palms against his firm chest, practically caging him beneath you with a triumphant smile.

“Sorry, baby boy, but you’ve got me so worked up with your freaking remote that I need you deep inside now. Ravage me,” you demand, your voice a sultry growl.

That sputters a chuckle from him as he spanks your ass, biting his lips, anticipation building to a fever pitch. With a gentle but firm grip, he takes your chin between his fingers, locking eyes with you. His dark orbs seem to pierce right through your soul. “Then, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy the ride,” he whispers, his smirk promising a world of velvety pleasures.

led with equal parts lust and admiration. His hands massage your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his forefingers before gripping your thighs, nails digging in just enough to make you shiver with want.

As you hover over him, poised to take on cowgirl duties, a sudden commotion from the hallway erupts through the haze of passion. Voices, loud and furious, yank you back to reality like a bucket of ice water splashed over your heated skin.

“What was that?” you gasp, freezing mid-motion, eyes wide darting to the door.

Evan sits up, concern etched on his face. His hands are still steadying your hips, but his body is in full alert mode. “Damn it,” you whisper-shout as something heavy shatters against the wall outside. Your pulse hammers as you scramble off Evan, instinctively clutching the sheet to your chest to cover your nudity.

His protective instincts kick in immediately. He wraps his arms around you protectively, pulling you into his warm embrace. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tenderly kissing the crown of your head. His voice is a soothing balm against the tension—the voices outside now distinct as those of a man and a woman trapped in a fierce argument. “Probably just some drunk jerks. I’ll handle this. You stay behind,” he commands, his expression hardening, a deep furrow in his brow as he reaches for his clothes. 

Together, you sneak toward the door, the shouting growing clearer as you get closer. You exchange puzzled looks, trying to figure out what’s going on out there.

You press your ear to the door, listening intently. But then the angry voices suddenly shift—what was a heated argument dissolves into… laughter? You blink in confusion, pulling back slightly.

“Is that... Mike?” you mumble, recognising the unmistakably boisterous laugh of his friend, mingling with a few others.

Evan lets out a breath he’s been holding, shaking his head with a mix of relief and annoyance. “Those idiots,” he spits out, sighing, as his shoulders relax and the tension of the false alarm dissipates. “I swear it’s like a damn sitcom in here sometimes,” he scoffs. His hands find your waist again, his touch warm and familiar, as if he’s trying to rekindle the heat that was simmering between you just moments ago.

“Maybe we should go back to the party,” you suggest, your voice a little sheepish, trying to ensure everything’s okay. 

“No way I’m letting you go,” he croons, his lips hovering dangerously over the soft, greedy slope of your neck. His hard, thick cock is just a whisper out of reach, teasing and taunting you with its nearness. 

You hiccup a gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall with a force that makes your knees wobble. His mouth captures yours in a sloppy kiss that wipes away any remnants of anxiety, replacing them with a renewed surge of burning desire. 

“I’m so wet for you,” you breathe in half-protest, half-plea as he trails kisses down your neck. 

“I can tell,” he mumbles, chuckling against the steamy flesh of your boobs as he slides our panties off. Your breaths come in tattered and frayed bursts as he sheathes himself entirely inside your slick, sobbing sex with one smooth yet forceful thrust. Your nails dig harshly into the firm muscle of his bicep as you whimper, jaw dropping open in pure, blissful shock.

“H—Holy shit,” you yelp, your voice high-pitched and shaky as you squeeze your eyes shut, surrendering to his delicious torture.

With your legs twined tightly around his torso, you silently beg him to dive deeper. He obliges, rocking back and forth with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. “Take it, baby, you can fuckin’ take this cock,” he growls, his voice raw with lust as he slams into you with merciless pumps. “It was made for you, just for you-u.”

He flashes you a victorious grin, his eyes half-lidded and intense. He scrunches his cute nose with every thrust that drives his stiff length deeper into your core, his balls pulsing against your tender slit. He bites your bottom lip to muffle his own groans, his breathing slipping out in ragged gasps.

So hot. He’s so hot.

“Ahh, yes. Give it to me rough,” you beg, your legs tightening around him as your mewling grows stronger. 

“You sound so fucking pretty,” he pants. He nibbles and sucks on your lips before his tongue enters your mouth, tangling with yours in a tantalising assault. You whine as his thick girth slides out inch by inch until only the tip nestles teasingly inside you.

He’s fully pressed into you, his hot breath a mix of short and shuddering huffs against your neck. He pauses for a moment, burying his face in the crook of your neck, soaking in the scent of your skin as if trying to memorise every part of you. “I don’t wanna finish that soon,” he laughs breathlessly, fighting to keep control.

“You got me seeing stars, baby boy,” you whisper huskily, your words barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. Your lips brush against his ear, planting an affectionate peck that sends a tremor through his core. As he quickens his pace, his eyes roll back, his hands gripping firmly onto your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

He leans back, his abs flexing with each powerful pull of his chest and arm muscles as he slams back into you again. He’s so shredded, and you can’t help but skim a few teasing fingers down his chiselled pecs. So ripped, and you’re not missing the opportunity to trace a few veins that prod against your fingers. He gasps delightfully at your touch, his cock convulsing inside you, driven wild by the way the brief gape of your pussy grips him like a vice.

“Fuck, you’re like a glove on my dick,” he moans, his voice catching as he gazes down at the way your cunt hungrily swallows and slurps him deeper. The filthy, lewd sounds of your groans and bodies melting together skin-against-skin reverberate through the room, echoing your shared need.

Unable to utter a word without screaming, you bite down on his neck, leaving a dark purple bruise. “So good—cock feels so good in me. Fucking me just riiight,” you cry out against his lips. Your voice rises in pitch, the words dissolving into incoherent moans as your nails rake his back, leaving tiny red crescents in their wake.

He lets out a dark chuckle, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fixing onto yours with a feral intensity. “You’re markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” he grunts, squeezing your thighs with a possessive grasp, a crooked smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

You nod faintly, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. You’re trying to keep it together, you really are. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly strokes that delicate, spongy spot inside you turns your brain to utter mush. It leaves you no option but to spiral further into bliss and moan like a whore. 

Evan tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His voice is coated in a low rasp, the words gliding into your ears like a warm cuddle. His lips curl up in perverse satisfaction as he shoves three of his fingers into your mouth, eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

You hum around them, staring at him with a lustful challenge. You gargle around his large hand, jolting each time he rams into you, drool spilling from your chin down to your tits only to finally land on his lower stomach and dick.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Gotta let everyone know how good I’m fucking you?” he taunts, his tone a hoarse, sensual growl. His hips snap forward, and your body responds instinctively, every nerve lit up with pleasure. 

You keep on sucking on his fingers, your eyes hooded with desire, each swirl of your tongue around his digits drawing a ragged breath from him. With a soft thud, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he runs them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.

“Right, I need to take stricter measures, then,” he mutters, his voice like gravel, as he carries you to the bed, still buried deep inside you. You gasp at the sudden movement, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

He sets you down in the middle of the bed and gruffs, “Bend over f’me,” his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You barely have a moment to comply before your ass is met with a rude spank, forcing a sharp moan out of you and flipping you over on your chest. 

His voice is a deep rumble, and you feel yourself pulse between your legs every time he speaks in these rough low decibels. 

“Mhm, don’t get shy. Let’s see that arch again, baby girl…like the good slut you are,” he urges, and your face gets smashed right into the crimson coloured sheets, his fingertips softly caressing down your exposed spine and over your ass facing skywards, his touch both gentle and demanding. “Let’s see my favourite wet pussy, best piece of ass I’ve ever seen,” he growls, admiring the view.

“E-Evaann,” you drag out, your voice breaking as you suck in a shaky breath. It’s almost humiliating how much he makes your pussy clench and drip for him, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he's looking at you like that and goes to great lengths (no pun intended) to satisfy you.

He rubs his hand against the stinging part of your ass, soothing and igniting at once, before aligning his leaky tip with your entrance. Your cunt is soaked, practically begging for him, profusely sweltering hot with your own slippery slick. He licks his lips at the sight as he smacks his fat cock against your puffed folds, the sound wet and filthy. 

“Don’t tease me, p- please,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder at him as you balance on all fours, your voice barely a breath above a whimper.

He lets out a sinister throaty cackle as he leans down, staring at your dripping cunt before rubbing his fingertips right down between your slit. “Quiet, baby. I’ll fuckin’ tease you if I want,” and you moan, feeling the pad of his thumb smear the lustrous trail of cum near your hole and back down towards your clit. “I love hearing you beg,” he teases, but it’s short-lived as he slides the head of his cock inside you, stretching you inch by inch with delicious pleasure.

“My big boy, railing me so damn well,” you babble out as his thrusts become faster and harsher, your eyes widening once his lengthy dick hits against that perfect, sensitive spot so effortlessly. His sharp hips are so unapologetically mean, each snap of his body forcing you forward and back into him like a yo-yo he’s toying with.

He’s drilling into you at full speed, the headboard bashing against the wall in time with his thrusts. Your thighs jitter with ecstasy at just how nastily he’s using you, your needy walls biting around his shaft as he reels you back into his sculpted pelvis. You let out sweet sobs that fall on deaf ears as he practically splits you open each and every single time.

“D-don’t stop. F-f-fuck me, Evan. Right there, ‘s fuckin’ big,” you pant, your mouth hanging open, more spews of whines leaving you as he accelerates his hips ever further. The bed screams beneath you, each creak sounding like it’s about to give way, and you’re almost sure it’s going to break. “More, more… please,” you yelp as he thoroughly swivels inside you, wearing you thin.

“Shit, you feel.so.damm.good,” he growls, pumping even deeper with every word only to grab one of your wrists and restrain it behind your back. Your limbs grow knobbly as the heavy and thick base of his cock smacks against your ass. You’re dizzy, insanely so—your eyes rolling back and the wet hit of sounds of your desperate cunt fill the room, blending heavenly with your breathy mewling that matches his pace.

Docile dark irises meet yours as you look over your shoulder. Raw, guttural grunts die from the back of his throat as he allows you a moment to seize control, letting you rut back and forth, bouncing against his swollen, throbbing cockhead. The slanting curve in your back deepens, elevating the spectacle before him and inviting him to spank you again. You watch him bite his lip, his brows knitting together with ravenous desire as he throws his head back. Your name spills from his lips in a breathless mantra, and you reciprocate with endless whines. It’s your personal plea for more, for everything he has to give. 

“Fffffuck, keep going,” he hisses, peering down at the way your sobbing cunt fervently takes him in. “Such a good girl—fuck, wanting my cock,” he mumbles, and you feel a rippling wave of goose bumps running down his body as you walls tense around him.

Shivering breaths ghost down against your sweaty skin as his pace falters and weakens, humping into you with his mouth prying open, falling slack. A gasp wretches from his throat as the melting crown of his cock smacks up against your g-spot over and over until you’re seeing nothing but pure white.

With a cry, your orgasm crests and crashes over you, your folds convulsing with pure euphoria. You stretch upwards, and he seals your lips in a steamy kiss from above, consuming the sounds of your sweet release with affectionate back rubs and a victorious grin against your mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, your hips bucking and jerking as the violent aftershocks of your high wrack through you. Evan holds you tight, chasing his own climax.

“Who owns this little pussy?” he hisses through gritted teeth, hitting against your cervix a few times before shooting ropes of hot cum deep into your womb. It’s abundant and warm, your pussy continues to constrict and pulse around his length. He whimpers curses into your neck as he collapses against you, twitching and pouring generous amounts of himself into you.

Rough tides of overstimulation wash over you as Evan climbs on top of you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your mind is still foggy from riding out the seismic waves of your orgasm, but a nagging thought breaks through: you’re in someone else’s house, and you need to leave things as you found them.

“The sheets,” you gasp, gently pushing him off the bed. Baffled and out of breath, he observes with hooded eyes as you kneel down and begin to lick and suck the remaining creamy love from his spent cock.

“Oh God, Y/N,” he moans, his eyes widening in shock as his fingers tangle in your hair. “You’re killing me,” he whines, his voice a mix of pleasure and overstimulation. His lungs heave with each breath as you clean off the mass of cum he’s dumping into your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. Your mind swims in ecstasy from the adrenaline-fuelled, earth-shaking orgasm, and you moan against his shaft, the vibrations sending shivers through him.

The moment is pure, unfiltered bliss, and you’re lost in it—until the door suddenly flies open, banging against the wall.

“Evan!” a voice yelps. I look up in shock as Jeremy, another close friend of Evan’s, stands frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed and red-faced at the sight of us. His cheeks flushed crimson as he averts his gaze, embarrassed to have walked in on such an intimate moment.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he gasps, his voice cracking as he takes in the dishevelled scene before him. Evan, caught mid-stumble, face turning beet red, fumbles for his clothes, his stammers response coming out in a strangled mix of embarrassment and confusion.

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.”

Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

To be continued...

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[uceyliyahh]

BABY BOY

Summary: Chantel was backstage watching her best friend Jey cut his promo for his upcoming match against Gunther for the World Heavyweight Championship but things between the two get hectic causing him to earn a busted lip, but things between you two get heavy.

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (M receiving), praises, daddy kink, mama, ma, baby girl, fingering, busted lip, two best friends that are in denial about their feelings for each other, fluff at the end :)

word count: 3,945

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

this will be my first time doing a one-shot so I hope y'all enjoy it, this will be in first person also 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @celesteheartsjey @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom

CHANTEL

As I sat in Jey's locker room, scrolling through my Twitter feed, I was overwhelmed by the wave of negativity directed at my best friend. It was truly nauseating to witness all the hate he was receiving; it just didn't add up. Yet, I understood that he was far from indifferent about it. True to his nature, Jey maintained a laid-back attitude, even in the face of such adversity.

I could tell he was completely in the zone tonight, engaging with his fans about his upcoming match against Gunther. Honestly, I wasn't a fan of his attitude; he came off as overly cocky. As I heard a knock at the door, I stood up from the couch and made my way over to see who it was.

As I swung the door open, there he stood—imposing and impressive. Truly, his genetics were a blessing, as he looked fantastic for the evening. His mullet, a striking red and flowing long, was perfectly faded on both sides. He sported a Dallas Yeet Stars shirt, paired with black sweats that playfully revealed his pink boxers beneath. Accentuating his look were a Cuban silver chain, stylish piercings, vibrant pink glasses, and classic Air Force Ones.

His presence was nothing short of captivating, standing at an impressive 6’2”, a striking contrast to my own 5’2” stature. The way he flashed his dazzling smile, adorned with grills, only added to his allure.

“You ready to go mamas?” he asked while holding his hand out.

As I intertwined my small hands with his larger ones, I nodded in agreement, and together we strolled toward the gorilla. However, he needed to perform his special entrance, so he guided me to a spot where I could enjoy watching him on the screen instead.

“How are you feeling about this?” I asked him.

“I’m feeling pretty confident about it, I’m ready to be a world heavyweight champion speak my mind you know,” I nodded my head in agreement admiring his pretty features of his face.

Since the moment I met Jey at the gym where I used to work out, I’ve been smitten. Our conversations flowed effortlessly, and we quickly became close, enjoying exciting dates and spending time at each other’s places. With every shared experience, my feelings for him deepened, yet he remained unaware of the intensity of my emotions.

At least that’s what I thought.

We finally reached the Gorilla position, where he gently kissed my forehead before heading out to make his entrance, kicking off the show. We shared a warm hug, and as I stepped inside, I greeted Triple H and the rest of the team.

I settled into the chair, captivated by the television show as I listened to the crowd erupt in cheers for him. This man radiated an incredible presence, and witnessing the adoration from his fans filled me with joy. It was truly uplifting to see someone so deserving of love and appreciation.

He descended the steps, radiating like a star, captivating everyone around him. As he made his way down, he engaged with a little boy, both of them joyfully waving their hands in the air. The crowd behind him mirrored their excitement, and in a delightful moment, the little boy reached out for a high five, which Jey happily returned as he continued his descent.

I watched as Gunther entered the Gorilla position, the World Heavyweight Championship draped over his shoulders. He focused intently on Jey, who was on the screen engaging with Michael Cole, before making his way into the ring.

He kept engaging with the audience, allowing his music to play on before finally seizing the mic to address them. Michael Cole had me in stitches with his energetic antics, bouncing around the stage with such enthusiasm.

As Jey prepared to address the audience, the atmosphere electrified with the crowd erupting into a chant of "yeet" that echoed throughout the arena, drowning out his voice before he even had a chance to begin.

He began to speak, “I said” he continues on, “Main Event Jey Uso is now in yo’ cityyyy,” he shouted while the crowd was cheering for him.

“Y’all already know what I’m about say tho right? At Saturday’s Night Main Event, imma beat Gunther and become the new—��� that’s when Gunther music began to hit cutting Jey off from his speech.

I noticed him removing his pink yeet glasses, a hint of nostalgia in his expression as he awaited Gunther's arrival. As I mentioned earlier, his cocky demeanor didn't sit well with me, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him while glancing at the screen.

The audience erupted in boos as he emerged from the Gorilla position. I found myself silently joining in the disapproval. Gunther ascended the steel steps, making his way into the ring, all while Jey shot him a fierce glare as he clutched the microphone.

His music cuts as the crowd went silent before he could speak into the mic, “what I saw back there it just made me realize that you aren’t on my level Jey,”

“you come out here yeeting with the crowd forgetting about our conversation the other day like it didn’t mean anything to you,” Gunther said.

“you sit right in front of me here, and you look me in the eye and you said, every morning when you wake up, you in the mirror and you bet on yourself,”

I was uneasy about how this situation was unfolding, especially with Jey staring at him as if he were out of his mind, while the crowd reacted with disbelief.

“And you know what? The thing is , I really believed you I was actually looking forward to Saturday Night Main Event to get in the ring and square with main event Jey Uso.”

The audience erupted in cheers of "yeet" as Jey stood there, gazing intently into his eyes. He continued to speak passionately, his words flowing endlessly, until he unexpectedly mentioned Jimmy, momentarily catching Jey off guard.

“Don’t speak on my brother Jimmy—“

“Or what? I’m just saying look around you Jey, you are like a mascot to this crowd,” he said as the crowd began booing him.

“You know what you’re right Uce, I am a mascot aight? You right yet again, but here’s the thing though this right here, this is my team,” Jey said.

“This right here is my squad, cuz they ride with me, slide with me and on Saturday they gonna be with me when I beat you for the world heavyweight championship uce,” The crowd was cheering for him meanwhile I was in the Gorilla listening to him being confident.

That’s what I loved about him he was so confident in what he was saying and I had faith in him as his best friend maybe even more at that until Gunther brought up my name in the conversation.

“Okay then what about Chantel then? Is she gonna ride with you, slide with you?” He said.

“Aye, don’t bring her up in all of this, this is between you and I, me and you. I told you i respected you uce,” Jey took a slight pause, “but Gunther, you gonna respect me too, you’re gonna put some respect on my name,”

I seen that Jey had slight smirk in his face, “Cuz there’s only one of us standing in this ring right now that main evented Wrestlemania and it ain’t you,” that’s when he dropped the mic mean mugging and Gunther threw his title at him at they both began to go at it with each other.

The audience erupted in cheers of "yeet" as Jey stood there, gazing intently into his eyes. He continued to speak passionately, his words flowing endlessly, until he unexpectedly mentioned Jimmy, momentarily catching Jey off guard.

As Gunther attempted to retaliate, Jey's strength and aggression overwhelmed him, forcing him against the turnbuckle where he took a brutal beating, all while I cheered enthusiastically from the gorilla position.

Gunther attempted to retaliate by shoving him aside, but Jey swiftly countered with a super kick to his face as he rolled out of the ring, leaving his championship belt behind.

That’s where I could see blood coming from his lip that fool done busted my bestie’s lip Jey grabbed his title shouting “c’mon!” “C’mon!” As Gunther was telling him to not touch his title.

Once the commercial break began, I rose from my seat and noticed Gunther storming backstage, clearly furious. My mind, however, was preoccupied with concern for Jey and his injured lip.

When I noticed him walking in with a bleeding lip, my immediate instinct was to rush over, filled with concern for his well-being.

“I’m okay mama, I promise,” Jey said softly.

“You’re not okay, c’mon so I can get you cleaned up “ I said as I took him to the medical room.

As I prepared to tend to his injured lip in the medical room, I could feel his discomfort. He always dreaded this part of the process. Sitting on the medical bed, he watched my every move with a mix of apprehension and resignation.

I approached him, maneuvering between his legs with everything I required. Gently, I took his hand away from his lip, noticing the blood still trickling. As I prepared to treat the wound, I poured hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and pressed it firmly against the injury, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.

"I understand that this is painful, and I truly empathize with you. However, you need to trust me on this, Jey. I have to keep applying pressure to your lip, so please bear with me."

As I tended to his wound, I barely noticed his gaze fixed on me. It felt as if he had something on his mind, a message he longed to convey, yet he struggled to find the right words.

I looked up at him as he kept his eyes fixed on me, causing me to shy away from his gaze while I tended to the cut on his lip.

I carefully tended to his wound, applying cream to promote healing for the moment. As I organized the first aid kit, I sensed his gaze fixed on me, a silent acknowledgment of the care I was providing.

“Why did you avoid my gaze, Chanti?” He asked as I heard his footsteps coming towards my way while my back was turned against him.

I chose not to reply, fully aware of how this conversation would unfold. I wasn't ready to confront my feelings for him in such a way. "I'm not sure what you mean, Jey," I said, as I carefully returned the first aid kit to the glass cabinet and shut the door.

His body pressed against mine, effortlessly spinning me around, his towering 6'2" frame looming over me and making me feel diminutive. We remained in silence, the air thick with unspoken words between us.

I found myself captivated by his deep brown eyes, taking in the warmth of his caramel skin and the striking tribal tattoos that adorned him perfectly. The thought that this incredible man could be mine was driving me wild with desire.

As his fingers intertwined with mine, he pressed a soft kiss to my palm, drawing me nearer to his warmth. This was a moment I had longed for but never found the courage to voice. It was as if he understood my unspoken desires all along, sensing my feelings without a single word exchanged.

As we gazed deeply into each other's eyes, a silent search unfolded between us. Suddenly, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he pressed a gentle kiss on my cheek. In that intimate moment, he whispered words that would send my heart racing. “Chanti, you’re terrible at concealing your emotions, you realize that?”

I pretended to be taken aback by his words, stammering, “W-what do you mean?” I could hear him chuckle softly, the sound slipping from his lips.

“Mama, c’mon. I’m not dumb I know you want something so just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” I couldn't shake the thought that if I allowed this to persist, our friendship would be irreparably damaged.

Looking deeply into his eyes—fuck it I stood on my tippy toes placing a peck on his lips while backing away from him to see how he would react to my sudden kiss.

He needed a moment to absorb everything before responding to my kiss, which prompted me to babble nervously, “I’m sorry, oh my gosh, I’m really sorry. I-I didn’t mean to—,” but before I could finish, he pressed his lips against mine, and instinctively, I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck.

We found ourselves lost in a fervent kiss, something we had both longed for but never dared to mention. Jey lifted me effortlessly by my thighs, carrying me to the medical bed where he gently laid me down, positioning himself between my legs, his lips still pressed against mine.

I could feel him rubbing his hardened member against my damp underwear, and I could taste the blood escaping from his lips, preserving its wonderful flavor.

His tongue danced within my mouth before trailing down to my neck, where he began to suck gently, reminiscent of a ravenous vampire savoring its meal. The sensation made me let out a soft moan right into his ear.

Tugging on his mullet.

I wanted more and so did he.

I threw back my head in delight as I moaned his name softly for only him to hear, feeling his fingers slithering down my damp panties and pressing them on the fabric of my underwear.

Even though he didn't touch me, I could feel my smooth folds growing wet for him. Jey pushed two fingers inside my wet cunt and pumped them in and out of me after he slid my panties to the side to observe how wet I was for him.

I gripped his shoulders and moaned his name while his fingers were entering my warm, moist cunt, kissing my cheek and neck tenderly and sweetly.

Jey kissed my full lips and muttered, "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this with you, Chanti."

“Me too..I was worried it will ruin our friendship,” I whispered back.

Jey shook his head as he spoke, “No way, mamas. This will only strengthen our friendship, but I want to be more than just your best friend, Chanti. I want to be your man, if you’ll allow me.” Deep down, I longed for him to be my man. Our adventures together, especially during our travels, had only deepened my feelings for him.

He kept pushing his fingers in and out of me, making me tremble beneath his touch, but I didn't answer him as I put my lips on his and our lips moved in unison.

Our lips remained together as he took down my shorts and underwear, and the way his fingers glided inside of me drove me crazy until he pulled them out, leaving me to whine from the emptiness.

As we moved apart, I saw him pull down his sweatpants, including his pink boxers, and my eyes widened as I saw his dick pop up and strike his stomach. It was big, meaty, and long, and I wasn't sure if it would fit me.

“but c’mere and use them pretty lips,” he said as I obeyed his request getting down on my knees knowing that the floor was cold as hell but I didn’t care.

I placed my hair in a ponytail making sure that it was secured properly while grabbing his shaft stroking it up and down seeing pre-cum dripping from the peephole, I gazed up at him seeing him looking down at me—Jesus the way he was staring me down was insane.

As he flung his head back, I started to move my lips up and down toward the end of his hardened dick, giving it nothing but beautiful kisses. I then swirled my tongue around his mushroom tip, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum as it came out and dripped all over him.

“Fuck,” Jey moaned.

He was attempting to fight the impulse to grasp my ponytail and face fuck me, but he just let me take charge of the situation as I bobbled my head on his dick and stroked it up and down while listening to his delicious moans exiting his lips.

There was a lot of salvia surrounding his dick, which made it easier for me to stroke him or suck him off, but I still bobbled my head up and down on his shaft, allowing his dick to hit me in the back of my throat, causing me to gag on it.

Jey wrapped his hand around my ponytail and began moving his hips pushing his dick down my throat again causing me to gag.

“Yeah, keep gagging on that shit,”

“Relax yo’ throat for me mama,” I did what he said relaxing my throat and let him face fuck me.

I kept circling my tongue around his attractive tip, tasting all of the saltiness from it, and inhaling through my nose while taking his length within my throat.

His moans were like music to my ears, “mhm…keep goin, keep goin’ for me mamas,” he moaned while speeding up his pace inside of my mouth.

I gripped his thighs, feeling that popping sound come in and out of my mouth. At this point, my lips were swallowing him whole, getting crimson and forcing me to look up at him.

I could feel him growing inside of my mouth while my tongue was glides through his shaft while I was playing with his balls, squeezing a bit that’s when he pulled out of my mouth. “C’mere,”

He lifted me off my knees, grabbing me up by the thighs and carrying me over to one of the chairs in the room where I was now straddle on his lap. I stood up, watching him stroking his mushroom tip over my slippery moist folds before I could sink down onto him.

Once I did a groan escape from both of our lips as I began bouncing up and down on his dick Jey held onto my ass cheeks firmly guiding my movements.

“Oh, fuck, Jey,” I moaned.

Jey was kissing me all over my chest, neck, and lips as I continued to bounce on his dick like no other. All you could hear was flesh smacking against one other reverberating around the room, hoping no one could hear us.

He drew me closer to his body, muttering nothing but wicked things in my ear, which just made me wetter for him. "You such a good girl for me baby girl, taking all of me in," he cooed at me.

“Yeah? Daddy?” I responded back to him.

"Yeah, make daddy nut baby," As I continued to bounce on his lap, I felt him whacking my left ass cheeks, and I moaned at the sensation; his dick was caressing my cervix so gently that I could see stars at this point.

Digging his claws into my hips, "fuckk it's so good baby," my eyes were rolling in the back of my head as I bent towards his face, planting my lips on his, and we began a vicious passionate exchange as both of our tongues competed for control.

I was tossing my ass in circles on his dick, which was hitting my g-spot so wonderfully as my wet cunt was saturating his dick so well that he could simply pump in and out of me so easy. "This pussy feels so good baby girl," he whispered between the kiss.

"Tell daddy that you love him and only him," he said, letting me feel every inch of him hammering hard into my sticky walls, crying out for him and only him.

When I didn’t respond to his question he whacked me in the ass cheek causing me to whine, “I love you! Only you Joshua!” I cried out.

Jey enjoyed watching me crumble below as both of our lips swelled from the intensity of our make-out session. I tugged on his bottom lip before returning for the kiss, pulling on his mullet and craving for more of him, lapping my tongue inside of his mouth while he did the same.

I could feel a knot form in my stomach, indicating that I was ready to come. Jey threw his muscular arms around my waist and began thrusting his hips more and deeper inside of me, while I dug my nails into his shoulders, which he didn't seem to mind at all.

At this point, I was overwhelmed and emotional, tears welling up in my eyes as I buried my face into his neck as he fucked me senselessly. The more he struck my g-spot, the closer I was to my climax.

“F-fuckk, Jey. I’m finna cum,” I whisper softly in his ear.

“Yeah? C’mon make a mess on me Ma, give it to me,” the way he was talking me through was driving me towards the oblivion.

Jey kept talking to me through it while he pummeled my insides saying sweet whispers in my ear that were vulgar and nasty to point where I was about to explode on him. “I-it’s coming! Oh fuck it’s coming!” I warned him.

I held onto him tightly as he was beating my shit in causing me to let out a loud moan escaping my lips screaming his whole government name while doing so, I could feel my milky cream coating his dick up hearing nothing but sticky sounds coming from it.

My body began trembling and shake underneath him but that didn’t stop him from getting his nut he was determined to get his right after mine.

I could feel his movements getting sloppier and sloppier each second losing himself under me causing him to grip onto my ass while bucking his hips deeper into me, “fuck I’m finna nut,” I could feel his dick twitching inside of me when he had said that, “where you want it at mama?” Jey grunted.

“I want you to nut in me Jey, fucking nut all up in yo’ pussy,” I mewled out breathlessly.

“My pussy? This all mine baby?” I nodded my head.

He didn’t waste no time pumping his dick in and out of my now sensitive walls while he bucked his hips upward feeling his warm seeds emptying out inside of me like a volcano eruption shooting my inner walls up so good leaving him speechless.

Jey had pulled out from me as me and him stayed together in that position trying to contain our breathing while he began running his fingers down my back to soothe me placing a kiss on my forehead.

I found myself half-naked on his lap, resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat gradually slowing. As I looked up at him, I noticed he was gazing back at me, and a playful smile spread across my face.

“You so pretty mamas like for real though,” Jey said.

“Thank you, you’re handsome yourself sir can’t believe that you’re mine now,” I said as he chuckled at me.

“Baby, I’ve been yours since the beginning but c’mon so that we can get dressed before anyone comes around,” I nodded my head as me and him began putting back our clothes on.

- fin 🩵

A/n: I hope yall enjoy this one-shot lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[littlejapanesesightseeingtrip]

"Just Satoru"

Synopsis: Your ex-husband just wanted to see your daughter on his day off. But can this ordinary day lead to the revelation of secrets kept? Will you finally get answers to those unanswered questions? [warning: super cringe, I wrote this last year, this was my very first fanfic ever. Just releasing this so that you guys can read my raw emotions. hehe. enjoy 😗😆🙂]

| V

Satoru sighed as he completed the last of the curses assigned to him for the day. Checking his watch, he raised his eyebrows in disbelief—it was only 1 PM. He felt a sudden jolt of pain stab at his forehead. How could he be getting a headache now? 

He had barely slept for two hours each night for the past month and had lost track of how many missions he had completed.

Ever since moving out of Y/n’s house, his life had become a whirlwind of misery. He had started overworking himself, moved into a new place, and lost the comfort of shared moments.

---

Thinking of the good old days when Suguru and Y/n were around brought him bittersweet solace. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that you felt the same way. Y/n's father was a non-sorcerer, while her mother was a First-Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer. Taking after her father, she had always been grounded, but she could never forget the day her mother introduced her to her disciple, Shoko Ieiri. Shoko became her best friend and introduced her to her classmates—Suguru, Satoru, Utahime, and Nanami.

Shoko had described Satoru as "the strongest," "a guy with a cocky attitude," but to Y/n, he was simply Satoru. Treating him as an equal, trusting him, and appreciating him for who he was—this broke the shell he had lived in for years. They shared a healthy relationship that blossomed into a family, welcoming their little daughter, Himawari, who had Satoru wrapped around her little finger.

Their life together had been picturesque until it all came crashing down. Satoru began to act tense, and one day, he dropped the bombshell: "I cannot be a family with you anymore. I am leaving." Those words shattered Y/n’s heart. Perhaps he was always just the "cocky, selfish guy" everyone warned about.

---

Satoru hesitantly dialed your contact. Despite everything, he couldn’t bear not seeing his little princess, which was also an excuse to check on you. 

Each ring made his stomach churn.

“Satoru. What is it?” Your voice was cold, filled with indifference, which shattered his heart. He couldn’t blame you; he had asked for this distance.

“I have the rest of the day off. I was wondering if... if I could drop by and see Hima.”

“She’s at school, and I’m at the office. But her school ends in an hour. You can pick her up and spend the afternoon with her. I won’t be home until 7. You have the keys.”

“Oh… okay then.” You hung up, leaving him sighing, and headed to his daughter’s school.

---

Satoru found a shady spot near the school gate and waited for Himawari. Other parents gossiped about him, the handsome man who abandoned  his wife. They had heard about how Himawari said her daddy no longer lived with her, and the rumors spread among the group.

 "It’s always the handsome men who abandon their wives. Good thing Y/n is self-dependent. I bet he’s only here to win over Himawari too."

The bell rang, and children began to pour out. A certain girl with blue eyes and white ponytails searched for her father and, upon spotting him, bolted over.

“Daddyyyy!!! I didn’t know you were coming!” He scooped her into his arms.

“Surprise! I missed you, Hima.”

“I miss you too, Daddy. When will you come home?”

Himawari’s soft voice tugged at his heart. It was clear that Himawari was the spitting image of her father—white hair, ocean-blue eyes, and a charming smile. But while Satoru was known for his goofy, easy-going personality, Himawari had inherited her mother's calm and responsible nature.

“Let’s go home now, and we can spend the whole evening together!” He kissed her cheek, earning a nod of excitement.

-

In the cozy living room, sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the scattered toys on the floor as Himawari showcased her new block set. She was determined to build a castle.

“Is this game really meant for kids your age? It seems complex,” Satoru mused.

“It’s easy! I’m almost done!”

“I’m very proud of you, Hima.”

He noticed some tiny action figures lying around—representing a man, a woman, and a little girl.

“Are these going to live in your kingdom?”

“Maybe. They were supposed to be a happy family.”

This pierced Satoru’s heart. His daughter was suffering from their separation, and he hated that she had to endure this pain.

“Those three can be a happy family and live in the castle together, forever,” he reassured her, but the pain in his head surged.

Exhausted, he laid back on the couch, hoping to rest his weary Six Eyes. When was this headache planning to go away?

---

“Daddy… I’m done with the castle! Now the family can live here happily forever!”

When Himawari noticed her father had fallen asleep, she approached him and gently patted his cheek.

His skin felt warm. Remembering what her mother had taught her, she checked his forehead and realized he was running a fever.

---

“I’m home,” you announced as you entered the house. “Hima-chan? Satoru?”

Seeing your ex-husband asleep on the couch, a cloth on his forehead and Himawari beside him, panic surged through you.

“What happened, Hima? Is everything alright?”

“Mommy… Daddy’s head felt hot, so just like you put a cloth on mine when I’m sick, I tried to help him too…” Your daughter’s voice wavered with worry.

You comforted her, “It’s alright, baby. You did well. Just make sure to wet the cloth next time.”

As you touched Satoru’s forehead, a wave of familiar emotions crashed over you, but you pushed them aside. You had to focus on him. Just as you were about to get up, his phone rang.

“Shoko☠️😜 is calling.”

Thinking it was just Shoko, you answered.

“Hello, Shoko? It’s me, Y/n.”

“Huh? Y/n? Is Satoru at your place? How did you get his phone?”

“Yes, he came over while I was at work, but he fell asleep and has a fever.”

“What? Gojo never gets a fever! I told him to stop taking on so many missions!”

“Has he been working more?”

“He’s been overdoing it. He joked that he thought doing more missions would kill time now that he’s alone. I warned him that overusing those Six Eyes drains his energy.”

You felt sick with worry.

“Y/n, I have an urgent body to deal with. Take care of him and keep him there for a few hours. He needs to rest. I’ll talk to Yaga-sensei.”

You were left feeling nauseous. If you could no longer give him affection, at least you could offer medicine and sympathy.

---

Before you knew it, it was midnight. After making dinner, feeding Himawari, and constantly checking on Satoru, you settled next to him. It had been five hours since he had run a fever, and it showed no signs of letting up. You covered him with another blanket and grasped his hand, feeling it shake.

He instinctively intertwined his fingers with yours, holding you gently. Tossing and turning, it seemed he was waking.

“Y/n...? What is…” He struggled to form words, his weakness evident.

“Rest for now, Satoru. We’ll talk later.”

And so, you let him sleep through the night.

---

In the morning, you found Satoru sitting on the couch, hands buried in his hair, looking disoriented.

“I assume your headache is gone now…?” you asked.

“How did you—”

“Whenever you overuse those pretty eyes of yours, your head hurts. But never did I imagine you’d work so much you’d get a fever. Care to explain?”

“I… I’m fin—” 

“Before you lie, I just want the truth. Why did you leave? No explanation, no reason. Did all those years mean nothing to you? Didn’t you care about me?”

He buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

“I miss you. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you and Hima. It hurts. I thought if I worked more, I could distract myself and make time for her, but…”

“But what?”

“They said they would kill you both if I didn’t abandon you. The higher-ups knew how much I let things go my way because of my power, but they started blackmailing me.”

You were speechless. The weight of his struggles crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, and you sensed his eyes threatening to spill as well. 

Without saying a word, you wrapped him in a tight embrace, needing this moment just as much as he did.

From now on, you’d face everything together.

---

Meanwhile, Himawari woke up, sensing the usual morning bustle was replaced by quiet. She crept downstairs, hoping to find her mom and dad. Peeking into the living room, she saw the two figures asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Not wanting to disturb them, she quietly retreated upstairs, a small smile gracing her lips.

---

And thattttt concludes my life's very first fanfic//oneshot!

so basically, a summary (incase someone's confused) (trust me even idk how i wrote this thing a year ago)

satoru lived a happy life with y/n, and had himawari too, but the higher ups were like 'this guy's only possible weakness is his family' so they decided to blackmail him into doing stuff their way or else they'd harm his two girls. so he reluctantly did so, making him act all tense and anxious. soon they told him to leave y'all forever if he wanted y'all to be safe. he is extremely heartbroken and hates himself a lot, and all that, and reluctantly leaves you. then to cope with it he starts overworking, while on the other hand you think that satoru is too selfish and prioritizes his jujutsu powers over his family, and thinks he left you because he was annoyed by your interference in his life. you start to feel a sense of betrayal. but this mess is cleared up as stated above so yeahh. i left it incomplete towards the end, to leave their complete reconciliation over your imagination. man i love open ended stuff. 

anyways yeah. 

X-X

p.s. :- 

(i'll also release the raw first draft I first wrote about a year ago but never released. the one above is just the older and more mature me correcting my errors. maybe you can get the full raw emotion from the me who was totally unaware of what was gonna come in this crazy year ahead. and the me who was 101% down bad for gojo satoru back then, not that i still ain't.)

edit: link to draft = link to draft :-)

if you made it this far i am proud of you to survive.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

I think this is where we ask for requests? but if it is shanks x reader fanfic ( fluffy pls! and SFW! ) if ur not uncomfortable with it!🤍

Hiii @iloveyoushanks Thank you so much for your ask (and for all your support on my stories! ❤️ I appreciate it very much!)

This was my first time writting for Shanks (excluding his appearance in the meet-cute series, but he's just a dad there, not a daddy 😏) so I hopeeeeee you like this! Totally SFW! Also, you didn't specify gender, so I kept it gender neutral, hope it's okay! Let me know if you liked it! 🙏 Thank you!

Source for pic

Chasing Constellations

Word Count: 2490

Tags: SFW; gn! x Shanks; Fluff; Comfort; Camaraderie; Acting on crushes;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are done dating boys, you want men. Your Captain claims to be man enough for you. But is he? And are you about to find out?

Notes: Be sure to check out my 100 followers event, as I will close requests on Sunday! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! I do hope you enjoyed it!❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist

“Want to come home with me?”

“Sorry, not today.” You answered with a warm, apologetic smile. 

The man who had been leaning at the counter next to you, all smiles and smooth words, cursed loudly as he turned away, slamming his glass on the wooden counter along with a few coins.

The barmaid sighed as she collected them. “Shame, he was sweet and easy on the eyes. Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I don’t know why, really. I guess I am done with boys. They don’t have the emotional maturity of a man.” You said with a scoff.

“Honey, when you’re dating pirates you can’t help but deal with boys. The only maturity they achieve is in size, not in behaviour.” The barmaid let out a hearty laugh while she poured another drink into your empty glass. “If you ask me, you’re much better off just hooking up randomly. Take ‘em, leave ‘em and be done with it!”

You laughed alongside her, her contagious laugh infecting you and your tipsy state allowing you to behave more freely than you normally would.

“That’s some sound advice there.” Shanks, your captain, clinked his glass with yours before downing it in one gulp. “Or just follow mine: date a real man!” He grinned, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes and forming a charming dimple on the right side of his cheek. 

The barmaid left you two alone as she tended to other patrons and you eyed your captain from top to bottom, humming in what seemed like an appreciative manner, leaving him to puff his chest at you like a bird attempting to mate. “A real man, you say?” He nodded and winked. “Well, when you find one, send him my way, please.”

Beckman, who was next to Shanks, snorted his drink through his nose as he banged his fists against the wooden counter in pure mirth. Shanks’s grin turned into a pout, his hand against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, you’ll get over it, aren’t you a real man?” And with that, you let a few coins drop onto the counter and turned to return to the ship. Your captain was funny, handsome, strong, intimidating and he could be very protective of you, even if you rarely needed him to help you. You got along great and had both been spending more and more time together, lately, but, even if you harboured the hardest of crushes on him, you would never consider dating him.

He was too much of a flirt, too much of a manwhore, too much of a player…

He was too much. 

Period.

Besides, he would never really be interested in you, right? 

-*-

Tossing and turning in bed, sleep kept eluding you. The cabin was too damn stuffy and your crewmates’ snoring - though normally nothing that bothered you - were driving you insane. If only they could all snore at the same rhythm instead of this dissonant cacophony! 

Huffing, you threw the sheets back and slid on some slippers on your bare feet, grabbing a light blanket to drape over your shoulders because the night and the sea breeze could be unforgiving. 

You found a cosy - secluded - spot by the deck, and sat down, leaning against the balustrade to gaze at the stars. They looked especially bright tonight and the sky was clear of clouds, leaving you with a beautiful painting-like picture to admire. 

Just as you were starting to relax, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you heard a roguish voice near you. “Couldn’t sleep? Or are you searching for your perfect man among the stars?”

You immediately smiled at his words as your eyes met his. A mischievous smirk painted his lips as he pointed up. “How about Orion? A legendary hunter, strong, skilled, muscular?”

You scoffed, your fingers entwining as you hugged your knees and Shanks sat beside you, still looking up. “Orion? The stalker?”

Shanks chuckled, making himself comfortable near you and you didn’t miss the way his leg brushed against yours. “You know your myths?”

“Please! I know myths and constellations! Orion pursued the Pleiades sisters who, in exasperation and desire to escape his endless pursuit, sought the help of Zeus, who placed them in the sky as stars so they could be free.” Shaking your head, you huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know what’s worse, running from someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or having it be written into a love story by someone who clearly doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and personal space.”

“Message received!” Shanks chuckled as he scooted his leg away from you and you bit your lip. That’s not what you meant, his touch was quite welcome. If you ignored the fact that this was how he flirted with everyone!

Sensing the slight change in atmosphere, you decided to lighten the mood. 

“Besides, Orion is clearly fictional. If I'm trying to find a man, I need him to be real. Let's see, he was a giant, handsome, with great strength and hunting skills.” You cheekily stared at Shanks, your legs falling to the side in an effort to close the distance he had created when you spoke about personal space. 

Visibly relaxing with the return of your touch, Shanks winked, raising his hand and counting on his fingers. “Giant?” His laugh was cocky and filled with innuendo. “Check! Handsome and strong? Check and check again! Hunting skills? Baby, I'll hunt you down blindfolded in a forest. Try me.”

The huskiness of his voice caught you by surprise, holding your breath prisoner in your throat for a split-second before you both burst into laughter. 

“Well, he was also arrogant, boastful and prideful so that's another three checks for you, Captain.” You nudged him playfully with your leg and he laughed, holding his hand in the air. 

“Aye, aye, guilty as charged.” A moment passed as he scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the sky. “How about that one?” He pointed at another constellation, clearly challenging your previous claim of knowing your way around the stars. 

“Hercules?” He nodded. “Another strong handsome man?”

“I think you might have a type.” He laughed, letting his arm fall on the balustrade behind your head. The heat from his body made you aware of his proximity. “He was brave-...”

“Reckless!”

“He held a strong sense of justice and duty.” 

“Impulsive, short-tempered with anger issues…”

“A hero!” He finished proudly. 

“An idiot.” You replied with a smirk. “They might have been branded as heroes, but they were still boys, flawed, full of themselves, with almost no regard for others, let alone for a loved one.” Sighing you fixed your eyes back on the sky. “Not even heroes and myths are perfect men, Captain. This is an impossible task.”

This all started out as a joke. A simple answer to a question a barmaid - you'd most likely never see again - asked you. And now it has turned into a real dilemma. You were sick and tired of being toyed with. You did want a real relationship, but none of the men - boys! - you'd dated had been ready to commit. 

Shanks was older than you, supposedly wiser and more mature. But he was not boyfriend material, even if he was the perfect man. So he needed to stop this useless flirting if he wasn't going to follow through because your heart wouldn't take it. 

“Well, you've left out a perfect specimen.” He pointed up and you followed, a frown on your features, already regretting having indulged your captain in this banter. 

“Perseus?”

“Yes.” He answered, pride evident in his features for your correct answer. At least you managed to impress him with your knowledge of the stars. “He had no faults. Come on, I dare you to say something bad about him.”

You pondered, your chest rising and falling with a deep inhale, but Shanks didn’t let you speak. 

“He was brave, loyal, honourable, ingenious and resourceful! Plus, he saved his beloved from being eaten alive by a sea beast!” Shanks looked you straight in the eyes and moved his stump, trying to make you laugh again. “Luffy was not my beloved in that sense, but he was still a loved one. I'd say I check all the boxes!”

That did make you laugh, and the two of you shared a fit of giggles, lightening the mood. You could always count on your captain to make you laugh. As you both regained your composure, Shanks let the arm that was on the balustrade fall and land onto your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, muttering that the night was quite cold and he didn’t want you to catch a chill.  

You didn't object, your head fell against his chest as you tried to blame the unexpected gesture on your slight tipsiness - though by now you were more than sober. 

“There's one fault I can think of about Perseus.” You whispered as a sigh escaped your lips when you realised how well your head fit against him. 

“Really?” Shanks sounded doubtful. His fingers dug into your arm, pulling you even closer, as if there couldn't be any gap between your bodies. 

“Perseus was described as youthful. Some legends say he was around fifteen when he slew Medusa. Others say that he was in his early twenties. A boy. Not a man.” Lifting your face slightly, you let your eyes meet his, a slight sadness pressed into them. “Forget it, Cap. I’m fine on my own. Even if they were perfect,” you pointed your finger at the sky, “they would still be out of reach.”

Shanks’ goofy grin, one he had been sporting since he began speaking to you, fell off his lips as his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils darkening and something else hidden, glimmering and pulling you in like a magnet. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right here, then.” The hand on your shoulders travelled to your nape, fingers slipping under your hair, heat permeating your entire being. “And an even better one, I’m definitely not a boy.”

His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned down. Your heart pounded incessantly against your chest and every fibre of your being told you to pull away, to flee, to run. This was Shanks! Your Captain! The eternal flirt!

“You’re not a boy, you’re right here… but you’re also a manwhore, Captain.” The soft chuckle that left his lips ghosted over yours, leaving a promise of what could be, if only you let it happen. 

“You know, some things are just myths… I bet Orion wasn't even a giant at all! Perseus courageously defeating a sea beast? I guarantee he was scared shitless! Me being a manwhore - as you so eloquently put it.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly, an invitation, the opening of a door, leaving you to decide if you wanted to enter or not. “Most definitely a myth.”

“But you are as unattainable as one.” All you had to do was lean in. Just a little adjustment of your mouth. He was right there. 

“Not for you.” Somehow, his words rang true. You hadn't seen him bring anyone to his cabin in ages. Granted, he could still be seeing someone outside of the ship and then returning, but if you thought hard enough, he had barely been flirting with anyone. 

Except you. 

Breathing was hard. He was right there. Thinking was harder. His scent was intoxicating. Hearing was impossible. Your heartbeat pounded so loudly that there was nothing else to hear. 

“You’ll just break my heart.” You couldn’t find the strength to pull away, even though your words might say otherwise. 

“Try me.” It almost sounded like a plea, but it couldn’t be, because Captain Shanks didn’t beg. His fingers pressed into your hair, as if grounding himself and staving off the urge to pull you against his lips. “Please.”

Oh… 

Apparently he did beg after all. 

Shoving all doubts, insecurities and fears down to the pit of your stomach, you pressed your lips against his. Just a taste. A small peck. You were going to pull back, you really were, but Shanks’ hand spread across your nape as he pulled you against him with the hunger of a starving man. 

He tasted slightly of sake, the alcohol lingering on his tongue, making it slightly bitter. But mostly… he mostly tasted of excitement and adventure, of a blissful future and sweet moments. 

Suddenly, the stars were no longer in the sky, they were shining within your closed eyelids, supernovas exploding inside your chest, your head swirling at the speed of light. 

It was… 

“Perfect…” You muttered against his lips as he pulled back a little to let you breathe. Your foreheads pressed together, his hand moving to caress and cup your cheek. Why had you doubted this? 

Why had you doubted him? 

“Gods, I've been craving that kiss forever.” There was still hunger in his voice, but something else, something far sweeter. 

“What do you mean?” Your hands reached in as you pressed your fingers tentatively against his chest, pondering whether you should pull him closer, considering the implications of a second kiss. 

“I thought you were the unattainable myth. Not the other way around. You never gave two shits about me.” He made that familiar whine that told you he was playfully hurt. 

Your chuckle caught you by surprise, so much so that you let your head fall forward, nuzzling the crook of his neck and breathing in the tanginess of his skin, sea salt and sweat mingling into a dizzying aroma. 

“Maybe you should've asked sooner.” You spoke into his skin, holding back the urge to press your lips against it and test how soft it was. 

“Asked what?”

“What that guy asked me at the bar.”

“Oh…” You felt as he took a deep inhale against your head, his hand now placing soft circles against your back. “About wanting to come home with me?”

You hum softly. 

“Aye, aye.” He chuckled as his fingers travelled up to your chin to tilt it, allowing him to stare into your eyes. “So, do you?”

You weren’t about to make this easy on him. “Do I what?”

“Want to come home with me?” He kissed you between words, his lips pressing against your flushing cheekbones, then your closed eyelids, and finally your nose. A softness to his touch you didn't know he possessed. 

The warmth filling your cheeks could have answered for you, but you still nodded, arms circling around his neck, pulling him down toward you, lips merely a breath away. 

“Is that a yes?” He didn’t hide the giddiness in his voice, the slight joviality that your wordless agreement brought. The boyish grin on his face. 

And you didn’t reprimand him for that. Because for all the youthful attitudes your captain had, he truly was a real man.

And one you wanted to date.

[freakspectors]

HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 4 - PROSTITUTION.

A Dazai Osamu | BSD x Gender-Neutral Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , reader is a prostitute , rough sex, dacryphilia , hair pulling , doggy style , spanking?? maybe?? , begging , etc .

author's note ; don't worry. daddy's home. HIHI EVERYONE!!! im so many days behind but shh we dont talk about that. i got grounded and i have so much going on but remember what i said on the masterlist? fuck it, WE BALL!!!! anyways this seems really mediocre but i need to catch up really fast so... enjoy what you can ^^

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Nights get desolate when the Ex-Mafia member isn’t attempting suicide. Tonight, Dazai seemed to be particularly lonely — he was yearning for another. No, not for a double suicide — get the idea of suicide out of your head, goddamn it. What the detective needed was someone to fornicate with, naturally. But a trail of broken hearts follows his path in life; all of said hearts being his own.. But hearts nonetheless.

His hands just wouldn’t do it for him this time around. No matter how fast he stroked, what he fantasized about, anything at all — he couldn’t get himself off. So, what was this renowned agent of the Armed Detective Agency doing in solution to his predicament?

He hired a prostitute.

He hired you.

Dazai’s cock drilled into your cum-stuffed hole, his shaft sliding in and out with ease. Moist sounds of skin against skin fill the room each time he bottoms out. The hefty headboard slams against the wall, its sound resembling objects falling during an earthquake. You bury your head into his pillow, moans unmuffling after each harsh thrust. 

You’ve serviced many needy men throughout your career, yes, but there’s something.. different about Dazai. Perhaps it was his odd sense of charm? His concerning amount of bandages? Perhaps even the fact he’s fucking you like it’s the baby boom all over again. You couldn’t even fathom how good he felt inside of you, much unlike your older clients.

A smack on your ass brings you out of your daze. You wince at the sting, looking back at the brunette pistoning himself inside you with a broad smile on his face. His other hand rests on your hair, gripping onto you as he rails you into oblivion.

“What is it, bella? Did I hurt you too much?” Dazai pouts, gently caressing the red mark. You bob your head, eyes glossy as the young man laughs in your face. “Awe, poor baby. Do you want me to slow down?”

Before you could even muster up an answer, Dazai slowed his hips until he eventually came to a stop. You never thought you’d see yourself begging for any of your clients, but tonight seemed to be a night where everything went off course.

Fat tear droplets ran down your cheeks as loud pleas left your throat, your voice becoming hoarse. The detective rolled his eyes, a spiel of boredom in his voice when he spoke. “Oh, come on. Do you really feel that good? For all I know, you may be trying to get more money from me like the whore you are.”

             You feverishly shake your head no. He wasn’t exactly wrong — nor right, actually. You’ve pretended to cum more times than you can even count; but he was the first customer you have ever been this needy for.

“P-Please, keep going, I’ll even make this session free — I just need to.. Please, Dazai,” you cry, the lump in your throat feeling worse the more you hic and sob. Dazai stares at you, speechless with a shit-eating grin. After a moment of silence, Dazai bursts out laughing at you. Feeling humiliated, you sighed and silently cried into the pillow once more. It wasn’t long before a hard thrust went into you, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Suck it up, won’t you? I never said I was stopping for good.”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 4

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Welcome to the holiday special! Set during season 8 you spend Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas with Spencer.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, holiday family fighting, (no Maeve...this is my fanfic and I say Spencer's had enough trauma)

Previous|Next

Halloween   

Spencer had convinced you to go out with him, JJ, and Will. They were going to take Henry trick or treating and then go off to a bar their team frequently ventured into.  

Spencer and his team had recently landed from a case and Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently, Henry had not wanted to go out on Halloween, but something changed his mind. Spencer refused to tell you what Henry’s costume was, declaring it a surprise.   

Spencer had picked you up and you two were in your own costumes. You dressed as Katniss Everdeen from the new Hunger Games movie. You had dragged Spencer to go see it after you had him read it during one of their earlier book exchanges. Spencer was dressed as Doctor Frankenstein. Large white lab coat and ridiculous googles.   

“Are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don’t know them that well.” You asked nervously.   

Spencer just laughed and nodded. “I’m more than sure. JJ and Garcia have been hounding me to make time for you to hang out with them.”  

“Because they like me or because they want to profile me?” You asked skeptically.  

Spencer shrugged, “Honestly, could be either, both, or none of the above. But, JJ knows you helped Will from bleeding out so, you’re solid in her book.”  

“I thought we agreed to not ever talk about the bank again?” You mumbled.   

“I know I know; I won’t bring it up again.” he said with a grin.   

You rolled your eyes, knowing well it wouldn’t be the last time.   

Once they arrive at JJ and Will’s house Henry answers the door and immediately you melt at the sight. Little Henry was dressed as Spencer, badge and all, and you had to bite your tongue from almost crying.   

JJ popped up behind Henry and smiled at the two. “Nice costumes.” she said looking them over.  

“Uncle Spencer, do I look like you?” Henry asked excitedly spinning in a circle.   

Spencer leans down to pick up Henry, “You look just like me! I think I’m looking in a mirror Henry.”   

The blonde boy giggled and hugged his uncle.   

“Come on in, we’re almost ready to go. Will’s just finishing the dishes.” JJ said, ushering them in.  

Will come’s around the corner with a rag in his hand as he looks for the source of noise, “I thought I heard y'all.” He said smiling.   

Will comes up to you arms open for a hug, “Hey.”   

you immediately hugged him, “Hey Will.”   

You smiled when he pulled away. Will raised his hand to Spencer, who was still holding Henry. 

“Can you watch him so we can go change real quick?” Will asked.   

Spencer nodded, “Absolutely, go don’t worry about it.”  

“Promise we’ll be quick; our costumes are easy.” JJ said with a grin.  

The two hurry off to their bedroom and Spencer sets down Henry.   

“Are you excited to go trick or treating bud?” Spencer asked softly.   

Henry nodded in excitement. “Mommy and Daddy are going to be my back up.”   

You just smiled as you watched Spencer interact with Henry. He easily kept him entertained and was overall, just great with the kid. you almost think you should have Spencer do some magic at the shop for the kids during the day sometime. He just easily knows what to do. It’s charming.   

JJ and Will come around the corner and are in all black suits and sunglasses. You gave a loud guffaw of a laugh, having to cover your mouth.   

“Oh, now this is just a stereotype.” Spencer said, trying to look upset, but his smile gave him away. 

“What? We can’t poke fun at ourselves?” JJ said with a small spin in her fake FBI suit. A massive plastic badge hanging from her hip.   

Spencer just shook his head.   

“I feel spiffy, this isn’t a bad suit for a costume.” Will said looking over his sunglasses.   

JJ laughed and then clapped her hands together looking at her son, “You ready Henry?”  

Henry bounced in excitement and ran up to his parents.   

“Wait, wait, before we go let me get pictures of you guys. It’s so cute.” You said, fishing out your phone.  

Will, JJ, and Henry pose. Will and JJ make a Mr. And Mrs. Smith pose back-to-back that has you giggling.   

“Perfect.” she smiled as she finished snapping a few pictures.   

JJ moves to open the front door and ushered everyone out, “Come one we’re burning the night away!”   

Henry had about an hour and a half of trick or treating in him before he started dragging his feet.  

“You tired big guy?” Will asked his son as he picked him up.   

Henry nodded slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open.   

“It’s bedtime for this one.” JJ said kissing the crown of Henry’s head.  

Will adjusts Henry in his arms. “We’ll go put him to bed, we’ll meet everyone at the bar.”   

Spencer and you nod, waving them off.   

“He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” You coo watching them walk off.   

Spencer nodded, “He absolutely is.”   

“You’re so good with him.” you crossed your arms. “Maybe you should lead a reading time or do a magic show at the bookstore.”   

Spencer looks down at you, “Now you’re just extorting me for labor.”   

You giggled, “I give you plenty of free coffee to warrant asking you for story time with the kids in the bookstore.”   

Spencer makes a face. “Definitely extorting me.”  

“I’d say it’s more a barter and trade system.” you said with a grin.   

“Whatever, come on.” He laughed, grabbing your hand to lead you off to go to the bar.   

You feel your face heat up from Spencer holding your hand, you go quiet and just let him lead you.   

Once at the bar, Derek and Penelope are already seated in a back booth. Penelope spots the two first and she stands waving them over.   

Penelope immediately grabs you from Spencer. “We need shots!” she declared as she dragged you with her to the bar.   

Derek just laughed watching them leave.   

“How many drinks has she had?” Spencer asked with a laugh.   

“None. She was waiting.” Derek responded with a chuckle.   

Penelope and you stand at the bar waiting to order shots. While they wait for the bar tender Penelope takes this time to chat you up.   

“I can’t believe Spencer hasn’t brought you out until now! I mean- there was the wedding, but I’ve been begging him to let me hang out with you!” Penelope pouts.   

You laughed, “Well, my schedules a little crazy. I’m always working at night so I can’t really go out like this all the time.” you told her.   

Penelope nodded, “Right, you run a late-night cafe and bookstore, right?”  

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I do. It’s a lot of fun and the inside is super comfortable. If you ever want to drop by, feel free to! I’d love for you to come by.” You told the blonde.   

Penelope’s face bursts into a big grin. “That sounds great. I’ll make sure to take you up on that.”  

Finally, the bartender makes his way over to them.  

Over at the booth, JJ and Will finally made it in. The group is chattering amongst themselves, waiting for Penelope to come back with you.   

JJ looked over to spot them at the bar, and she took an opportunity.   

“So, Spence...” she started with a conspiratorial tone.   

Spencer immediately froze and gives JJ a knowing look. “Why do I already not like where this is going?”  

“It’s nothing serious just...” her eyes avert over to the bar, “Do you like her?” she whispered loudly across the table.  

Derek started to laugh, looking at JJ with a raised brow. “Are we really about to press pretty boy on his love life right now?”   

Spencer’s face is tinted pink as his eyes widen. “JJ...” he sighed.   

“Spence.” She replied with a deadpan stare.   

His eyes flickered over to try to see if Penelope and you were coming back. Hoping he could escape this grilling.   

“I’m not gonna let this go, so you can answer here or at work with Rossi and Hotch in the room.” She said with a smirk.   

Spencer sighed and looked down at his hands on the table. “She’s wonderful, and when she was a hostage, it really hit me in that moment that she’s important to me.” he murmured.   

“She’s too sweet though...and I’m, me.” He said quietly.   

Derek and JJ make a face. They didn’t believe that for a second. Before they could reply though, Penelope bounced back with you in tow.   

“This conversation isn’t over Spence.” JJ murmured.  

“Oh, everyone’s here!” Penelope shouts, moving to hug JJ in excitement.   

Penelope shoots a playful glare at Spencer, “You better move boy genius because my spot is next to big man.”   

Spencer rolled his eyes but slid over to get up. Penelope shot him a dazzling smile and moves to saddle herself next to Derek. Spencer gets back in the booth, and you slide next to him. With everyone in the booth, they’re basically brushing against each other. Your leg is pressed against his and you feel like you’re burning up. It could be the alcohol or your nerves, you’re unsure.   

The night goes on and you drink far more than you probably should have. You're a light weight and Penelope Garcia just kept ordering shots for her, you, and JJ.   

The three women are standing outside in the cold air chattering away while they wait for the others to close out their tabs.   

You’re swaying on your feet humming a mindless tune and Penelope’s leaning against you.   

“You’re so sweet- I understand why our boy wonder would keep you to himself.” Penelope giggled.  

You shook your head, “No no, it’s not like that.” you giggled.   

“Oh please,” JJ rolled her eyes her own smirk on her face. “You two were giving each other eyes all night.”   

You gasped, “No we were not! He’s my best friend.”   

JJ and Penelope give each other matching looks before humming in acknowledgement.   

“I’m serious! I know what a sarcastic mmhmm means, I invented it.” You said with a frown.   

The doors open and the three, much more sober, men come out.   

“Come on baby girl, time to say goodbye. You need your bed.” Derek said pulling Penelope off you.   

“Oh, my bed sounds fantastic!” she said excitedly, letting Derek lead her off.   

“We better get going too, your momma can’t stay all night.” Will mentions to JJ.   

“Bye Spence, bye Y/N!” JJ waved goodbye.   

Spencer turned to look at you, and you’re still swaying a bit. Spencer wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and starts to lead you back toward the subway.   

“Come on, let’s get you home.”   

You immediately leaned your head on his shoulder wrapping your own arm around him to keep yourself balanced.   

“You’re my favorite person Spencer.” you murmured as they walked down the street.   

He chuckled softly, “You’re mine too.”   

“No, no, I’m serious.” you said your words a bit slurred.  

“I know.” he said softly.   

You looked up at him, your eyes furrowed, “No, you don’t.” you said it a bit more seriously. “You’ve done more for me than I can explain.” you whispered.   

Spencer paused and gently moved his free hand to press you closer to him, petting your head. “I think it’s the other way around.” He murmured into your hair.   

The two stand there, your face pressed into Spencer’s shoulder for a while. It takes a cold breeze to make the two of you separate.  

“Let’s get you home before you catch a cold.” he whispered, gently moving you forward again.  

You just nodded, looking at your feet as they walked, trying to hide your flushed face.   

Thanksgiving   

Thanksgiving was always awkward. You only remember Thanksgiving being fun when you were between five and ten. After your mother cheated, Thanksgiving had been... rough. To put it politely.   

Even after your parents' divorce, they would still try to get together for Thanksgiving, but something tends to always go wrong.   

There was the year you refused to come out of your room because you didn’t want to see your mother. So, Bridget tried to feed you under the bedroom door. Then there was the year that Bridget got food poisoning because their mom didn’t cook the chicken breast for Bridget all the way through. That one was rough. She was eleven and violently puking for three days straight. Or the year that Lauren brought her new boyfriend over. He had tried to make Bridget and you call him dad while Big Joe was sitting right there.   

Thanksgiving has just not been their Holiday.   

This year you had invited Spencer. He wasn’t going to Vegas to see his mother until Christmas, and he was just going to spend it alone. You offered for him to just spend it with you and Big Joe, it was always just the two of them recently. So, it wasn’t a big deal. Just a chill lunch, watch the parade on the tv, and send Spencer off with leftovers.   

At least, that was your plan.   

You're in the kitchen with Spencer, cutting veggies for the stuffing when the doorbell rings. You stand straight looking at Spencer in surprise.   

“I’ll get it!” You shout to your dad, walking briskly to the door.   

Upon opening the door, you see your baby sister. It’s such a shock it takes you a second to register what’s happening.  

“Birdie?” You blinked in confusion and rubbed your eyes trying to see if you were seeing things.   

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Bridget’s boyfriend, Jamie, says excitedly and leans in to give a hug.  

“Oh!” Jamie wraps you in a massive hug, squeezing you tightly. “I’m so happy to finally meet you and Bridget’s dad!”   

You looked at him a little puzzled before turning to Bridget. “I thought,” You sighed trying to even your breathing. “I thought you were spending the holidays with Lauren again?”   

Bridget just shrugged, “Changed my mind. Now can we go in, it’s freezing out here.”   

You step aside to let them in and are bewildered that your sister even showed up. You make your way through the living room and stand next to your dad in his wheelchair. His eyes were half closed, a light snore as the television played the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.   

“Daddy, daddy wake up. Birdie’s home.” You whispered.   

Big Joe jolts a bit and grumbles, “I wasn’t asleep.”   

“Sure, you weren’t daddy.” You patted your dad’s shoulder. “Anyway, Birdie’s here with her boyfriend Jamie.” You said making Big Joe look over at the two standing awkwardly in the doorway.   

His face breaks into a grin, “Well, come in Pidgeon, no need to be shy.” He struggles to sit up a little straighter in his chair.   

You look over at your sister and Jamie. Her boyfriend is all smiles, you swore if he had a tail, it would be wagging. Jamie walks over to shake your dad’s hand and introduce himself.   

Bridget on the other hand, has her feet planted firmly to the floor. Unmoving. You watched her closely and saw just how pale Bridget was as she looked at their dad. She hadn’t seen their dad in a long time. She mostly just called, if that, but this was the first time in maybe two years that Bridget was standing in the same room as her father.   

You look back at Jamie and her dad as they chatter. You see how thin her dad’s gotten. It’s not news to you, nothing about his health was. They were already on borrowed time, your dad truly beating the odds. As you look over at your baby sister, you realize that the last time Bridget saw their dad he could still walk easily. He only barely needed the wheelchair for bad days.  

Bridget was in shock.  

“Y/N! I need some help back here!” Spencer comes around the corner from the kitchen, covered in flour. He’s holding his hands up like he’s innocent.   

“Oh, good god, Spencer, bless your heart. I’m coming!” you told him shooing him off back to the kitchen.   

You go to Bridget and nudge her, “Birdie you and Jamie can keep daddy entertained right? I’m still cooking.”  

Bridget just nodded slowly making her way over to the couch.   

You sighed and went back into the kitchen.   

“Spencer, I said to add a little flour to make a rue... not a half cup.” you laughed looking at him.   

Spencer cleaned his hands with a small rag and looked over at you with a displeased frown.  

“I need exact measurements, not... your southern shorthand.” He murmured.  

You rolled your eyes and looked at the pot that was supposed to be your rue for the macaroni and cheese. You see the powder in the pot and shake your head.   

“Southern shorthand’s about to make the best food you’ve ever eaten.” you told him with a raised brow.  

“Grab me a clean one please. This one can go in the sink.” you point over to under the counter.   

Spencer easily does that and moves to cutting and peeling potatoes.   

“Was that your sister?” he asked.  

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Yup.” you said with a pop of the P.   

“Isn’t it a good thing she’s here?” he asked tentatively.  

You sighed, “I mean,” you leaned back on your heels biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes. It is good. I just...” you turned to face him.   

“Spencer, you didn’t see her face. It was like she didn’t recognize him.” you hissed in a whisper.   

Spencer paused on peeling the potatoes and gave you a deadpan look. “Because she didn’t. When was the last time she really saw him?”  

You paused, “When daddy could still walk on his own... She's only seen him in the chair once.” you sighed heavily.  

Spencer moved closer to you and held your arms in reassurance, “She’s in shock. Just, give her some time.” He offered.   

You nodded and rolled your sleeves up, “I’m just gonna focus on cooking right now.”  

By the time you and Spencer finish everything the parade is over, and your sister has set up the small dining table. You and Spencer slowly bring out the food and your dad rolls himself up to the head of the table.   

“What do you want to eat dad?” You asked him after everything was placed on the table.   

“Everything, it’s Thanksgiving! I could eat a horse.” he said with a hearty laugh.   

You shook your head at your dad but filled his plate. After you set his plate in front of him, everyone else builds a plate for themselves.   

“Magpie, you still make homemade cranberry sauce?” Bridget asked, eying the small plate.   

You nodded, “Yeah, you never liked the canned stuff.” you replied like it was obvious you’d make it the way she liked.   

“I haven’t had Thanksgiving with y’all in years...” Bridget said.   

You just shrugged. “It’s not that hard; besides, I’ve gotten so used to making it.”   

Bridget bit her tongue. You and her dad hate cranberry sauce. Bridget was the only one who ate it. You don’t have to tell her you made it every year with the hope she’d come.  

“Well, it’s the first time I have both my girls here, so let me say grace just this once.” Big Joe said with a smile.   

Everyone nodded and closed their eyes.   

“Dear lord, thank you for this meal. Thank you for blessin’ me with daughters who care so much. Thank you for providin’ them with such kind folk who care for them like I do. Please bless us today with the kindness and health to go on another year, amen.”  

Big Joe smiles at his daughters and motions for them to eat. “C’mon let’s not let this go to waste.”   

Their family meal was awkward.   

You and Bridget flank the sides of their dad and Spencer and Jamie sit across from each other. The men trying to keep polite conversation while you and Bridget just stare at each other.   

“This meals good Magpie, better than mom ever makes.” Bridget complimented.   

“Well mom barely ever really cooks. I’m sure she just catered.” You bite back.   

Spencer moves his hand to grip yours under the table. You sighed, “Thanks though, I try.”  

Bridget turned to her boyfriend giving him a look that said, ‘I told you so.’   

Jamie coughs, “So, you run a bookstore?” he asked.   

You nod, “Yeah, I co-own it with a friend of mine. Part bookstore part cafe.”  

“It’s a great shop, my favorite in town.” Spencer added.   

You snorted, “You just say that cause I give you free coffee.”  

“Oh, is that where you two meet? That’s romantic, a warm cozy book nook.” Jamie asked leaning forward.   

Your and Spencer’s faces both burn deep burgundy colors.   

“No no-”  

“It’s not like that-”   

“We’re not dating-”  

“He’s my best friend we’re not-”   

You start talking over each other going back and forth. Finally, they both just shut up.   

“We’re friends. He’s not my boyfriend.” You finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we just assumed-” Bridget slammed her elbow into her boyfriend's side.   

“Sorry.”  

It’s an awkward meal.   

After everyone eats Spencer and Jamie clean the table, rinsing off the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. You and Bridget bring the leftovers into the kitchen, placing them on the counter.   

“Can we talk?” Bridget asked with a nervous look.   

You nod, unsure of what your sister wants to discuss. Bridget coughed looking at the two men, “Alone .”  

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Jamie and Spencer quickly make themselves scarce to leave the sisters alone.  

Bridget moves to start packing up the leftover food. A nervous habit she picked up from their mother, she had to do something with her hands. You go to help her, trying to make whatever conversation this turns into less awkward.   

“We need to talk about daddy.” Bridget whispered.   

“We or you?” You asked with a raised brow.  

Bridget sighed and looked at you, “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”  

“Really? Because as I remember it, I’ve been trying to have a serious conversation with you about this for a while. The last time we discussed this you told me ‘Fuck you.’” you replied with a fake smile.   

Bridget sighed and stared holes into the food she was packing into the glass Tupperware.   

“I was scared ! No one wants to think about their dad dying!” She tried to say with a strained voice, her movement becoming more aggressive.   

You slam your hands on the counter, “And you don’t think I’m scared Bridget?! I’m fucking terrified everyday I’m gonna wake up and find that he didn’t!”   

You're breathing heavily, trying to stop the burning you feel at the corners of your eyes, you know yelling isn’t helpful right now, but it feels right.  

“You chose to take care of him, he’d be better off with a full-time team! You are such a miserable bitch sometimes!” Bridget yelled right back.   

Bridget’s anger has always been fierce and loud. While yours has always been passive. You can’t stand her trying to lecture you right now.  

“I’d rather be a miserable bitch than a fucking coward who can’t even look daddy in the eyes.” You bite back.   

Bridget throws her hands up, “You know what? Have a great fucking Thanksgiving. I’m not doing this right now.”   

You crossed her arms, “Run away, like always.” you murmured under your breath glaring at the floor.  

Bridget took a deep breath before turning toward her older sister, “I am trying. It might not be when or how you wanted, but I am trying.”  

You didn’t respond expect for a flinch when you heard the front door slam behind her sister.  

You stood alone in the kitchen and leaned over the sink.  

“Magpie...”   

You sigh, your dad’s tone tells you something's weighing on his heart, and you know it’s about Bridget.   

You take a deep breath and try not to break into a sob. “Daddy-” your voice shook.  

“Don’t hate her, Bridget isn’t like you.” Big Joe tells you, his voice gentle.   

You are very aware that the walls are thin, and your dad heard you argue with Bridget., hell, everyone heard your argument with Bridget. That doesn’t make it any less hurtful or true.   

“I don’t hate her; I just hate how she ignored you for so long and just-” you paused looking up. “It’s not fair.”  

“What’s not fair?” Big Joe rolled closer. He was using his soft dad voice, and it was the straw that broke your back.  

Your lower lip started to shake, and you could feel the hot tears running down your face.   

“All of it! None of it is fair, why... why did you have to be the one who’s sick?” you sobbed.   

He grabbed your hands and held them tightly. “Magpie, the world’s not fair. No one made me sick, it just, it happens.”   

“You’re my dad... I’m not ready to give you up.” you hiccupped through your tears.  

Big Joe moves to stand on his shaky legs, he wraps you in a tight hug. You can feel how much smaller he’s gotten. The muscle deteriorating in his body.   

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Okay? I’ve been beating the odds, right? I can keep going.” He told you.  

He pulled back to brush away your tears, “Don’t be mad at your sister... When I do go, you’ll have each other, you should take care.” he said.   

“Bridget’s not cut me out of her life Magpie, she calls me every day when I’m in the doctor’s office.” He reassured you.   

Your eyes widen, “She does?” You’re surprised.   

Big Joe nods. “We don’t talk about the doctor’s visits or anything, but she calls every day, and we catch up. I know too much about Jamie by the way; he’s a chatty Cathy...”   

“I didn’t know that.” you said with a frown.   

Your dad shrugged, “I didn’t think it was important. It obviously was, you’ve been holding too much in Magpie.” he said softly.   

You looked down a bit embarrassed. “You don’t have to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders... you’ve been doin’ that since you were thirteen. It’s not your job; your job is to live your life.”  

You nodded, rubbing your face to dry the tears.   

“Why don’t you go out with that nice friend of yours? I’ll be just fine right here.” He said referring to Spencer in the living room.   

“Oh god, Spencer.” you sighed covering your face, “I look awful...”   

Her dad chuckled, “He won’t mind. Now go on and get.” He grumbled.   

You give a soft laugh, “You just want to watch the game in peace.” you said knowingly.   

“Hell yeah, I do, you never liked football. I don’t know who raised you.” he joked, wheeling himself into the living room.  

You follow behind him and into the living room. Spencer’s pacing circles in front of the couch. He only stops when he hears them come in.   

“We’ve been kicked out.” you joked. You grab your coat and your purse, “Dad wants to watch the football game, and I have no interest in that.” you told him seeing Spencer’s confused face.   

He nodded and grabbed his own coat, “Happy Thanksgiving Joe.”  

Your dad nodded, “That’s Big Joe to you boy.” He teased Spencer.   

You rolled your eyes and walked out with Spencer following behind. Outside the front door you felt Spencer gently grab your arm.   

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.   

You swallowed hard, “I’ve been better...” you murmured. “but I should probably apologize to Birdie for grilling her like that." You bite your cheek in thought.  

Spencer shrugged, “You don’t have too immediately. It takes two to fight.”   

You snort, “You’re the best, you know that?” you said moving to wrap your arm around him as they walked.   

Spencer easily slides his own arm around your waist, “I’ve been told a time or two.” he responded smugly.   

You rolled your eyes, “Okay okay, remind me to not boost your ego again.”   

Spencer looked down at you and smiled softly. Your eyes were still rimmed red from crying, but you looked better than when you had come out of the kitchen. Spencer could hear the argument between the two sisters vividly. The walls of the apartment where thin and the animosity between the two women had been brewing all afternoon. They were bound to explode.   

He rubs soothing circles into your back. He knows you’ll work it out. You're too bright to be dimmed so easily.   

Christmas   

Christmas morning was always fun. The past couple of years it’s been hard. It’s just been you and Big Joe, and honestly it just reminded you how lonely you were. Thanksgiving was always awkward, but Christmas has always been fun. Even when your mother was visiting, you still found some joy at Christmas. Now? You just longed for one where it wasn’t just the two of them.   

There was going to be a Christmas that would just be you... you weren’t ready for that.   

You missed baking cookies, trying to make gingerbread houses with Bridget, and curling in front of the fireplace wrapped in a million blankets watching those 70’s claymation holiday specials. You and Bridget’s giggles filling the living room as you slept in a fort made from couch cushions and sheets.  

You missed being a family.   

You sighed and turned the oven on, getting ready to make a small turkey for you and Big Joe. You had other food to still prep, and you were ready to just give up and order a pizza.   

Halfway through boiling the eggs you heard a loud knock.   

“Magpie were you expectin’ that friend of yours?” Her dad shouted.  

You wipe your hands off and pokes your head into the living room, “No... I think he went to Vegas to visit his momma.” you said, walking toward the door.   

“Surely to god it’s not a solicitor on Christmas?” you asked.   

You open the door and see Bridget and Jamie. You stand there a little surprised. You hadn’t talked to her since Thanksgiving when they had a massive blow out argument.   

“Y/N! Merry Christmas!” Jamie exclaimed holding what looked to be a pie in his hands. His smile was genuine as it reached his eyes.   

“Merry Christmas Jamie...” you said in surprise.   

Jamie walked past her but not before making a face at Bridget.  

“Merry Christmas Big Joe!” Jamie’s voice carried off into the room.   

Bridget’s holding a bag and looks embarrassed to be standing in front of you.  

“I brought a peace offering...” Bridget said passing the bag over to you.   

You raised your brow in question but opened the bag anyway.   

Inside were two gingerbread house kits and a champagne bottle.   

“I thought we could, maybe, try to bring back an old tradition...” She murmured looking at you hopefully.   

“Birdie-” You started but she cuts you off.   

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out at Thanksgiving...I just... I’ve been trying so hard to think that daddy was gonna be just fine.” Bridget’s voice cracks.   

“I- I can’t picture that the strongest person I know has to be rolled around in a chair, ya know?” she said, her voice watery as she tried to blink back her tears.   

“Daddy’s sick Bridget. He’s already lasted longer than most, but...” you took a deep shaky breath of your own. “We only have a little time left with him.” you whispered.   

“I know.” Bridget said firmly. “I’m gonna show up.” she promised.  

You look down at the gingerbread houses and back at your baby sister. You pulled Birdie into a tight hug.   

“Better late than never.” You whispered.   

“I missed this.” Bridget said holding onto her sister.  

“I missed you Birdie.”  

The two sisters walk into the apartment together. You set the bag down under the tree.   

“I’m cooking if you want to help?” You asked her.   

“Ohhhhhh no. I don’t cook. I’m awful- you want Jamie.” Bridget said pointing to her boyfriend.  

Jamie stands and mock salutes you, “Sous chef reporting for duty!”   

You rolled your eyes and motions for him to follow you.  

While Jamie’s in the kitchen, it makes the task so much faster for you. Faster than even when Spencer helped her. Jamie clearly knew how to cook and obviously made meals for your sister. The two busted out the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs easily. What would have taken you half of the morning and afternoon took you and Jamie just the morning to finish. It was great to have an extra pair of hands that knew what they were doing.  

When you put the rolls in the oven to bake, you notice Jamie’s hand fidgeting in his pocket.   

Now that you thought of it, his hand was constantly shooting down to check that he still had whatever it was in his pocket.   

“If ya got a ring in there for Birdie, I’d suggest being less obvious.” you joked with a light laugh.  

Jamie freezes and his face erupts into a bright red shade, “How... how did you know?” He stuttered out.   

Your brows shoot up as you whip around to face Jamie. You look between him and the doorway and don’t hear anything to suggest Bridget heard them.   

“I was joking!” you hissed out. “You’re serious?”   

“Of course I’m serious! I love Bridget.” he whispered to you. “I wanted to propose with her family there, but it was either you guys or Lauren, and Bridget is fighting with her right now.”   

“They’re fighting?” You asked in quiet surprise.   

Jamie nodded, “Bridget called her after Thanksgiving and I don’t know much, but it was a screaming match over the phone.”   

You make a face. “Sounds like mom.”   

Jamie nodded in agreement.   

“Well, let me see it!” you demanded, holding your hand out.  

Jamie rolled his eyes but fished out the small box and handed it to you. You excitedly opened the box, and your eyes lit up. You passed the small velvet box back to Jamie.   

“I think she’ll love it.” you said with a genuine smile. “So, are you proposing today?”   

He nodded. Your face beams. “I’m so excited for you guys. Truly.”   

“Just gotta find the right time.” He said holding the box tightly.  

“There’s never a perfect time... just maybe do it before me and Birdie start building gingerbread houses.” You suggested.  

“Why?” Jamie tilted his head in confusion.   

“Because she brought champagne and we’re light weights.” you patted Jamie’s arm.   

“Go on in the living room, I’ll finish up and get ready to serve soon.” You offered.  

Jamie nodded and smiled, “You’re a good sister.”   

You shrugged, “Not really, but appreciate the sentiment.” you teased.  

Dinner goes wonderfully. Much better than Thanksgiving. You serve everyone their food and the conversations are lively and exciting.   

“Your momma called me,” Big Joe said turning to Bridget.   

Bridget freezes, like she used to as a kid who was caught, and she looks up at her dad.   

“What about?” she asked.   

Her dad gave her a pointed look, “You’re fightin’?”   

Bridget rolled her eyes. “I got into it with her, it doesn’t matter.”   

“She said you were fightin’ about me.” She sighed and looked at her dad.   

“Well, what she neglected to tell you daddy, was she was trying to tell me how to take care of you. As if she knows anything more than Magpie does.” Bridget said stabbing her turkey aggressively.   

Their dad nodded, “She did not tell me that part.”   

“Sounds like Lauren...” You murmured shoving potatoes into your mouth.   

Bridget gives you a pointed look, “Please, I don’t want to argue over mom right now.”   

You put your hands up in surrender. “I won’t. My lips are sealed.”   

After dinner they transferred to the living room and finally do a gift exchange. There weren’t a lot of presents, just a handful for each other. Plus, the gifts you made for your friends.   

You already got your gift from Bridget, but you gave her a present. It was homemade cookies that were Bridget’s favorite as a kid. You got Josie to bake them for her.   

“This is my apology for Thanksgiving...I shouldn’t have cornered you.” You said softly.   

You smiled at your sister and Bridget went to wrap you in a hug.   

Bridget and you both had a few presents from your dad, all of which were cute and sentimental.   

Finally, Jamie gets ready to give Bridget his present. He hands Bridget her gift and it’s a beautiful print of the night sky and stars the day they met. While Bridget’s too busy looking at the print and getting teary eyes, Jamie drops to his knee.   

He doesn’t even get the words out before Bridget immediately breaks into a sob.   

Jamie gives a soft laugh, “Bridget Daniels, will you marry me?”   

Bridget nods aggressively and throws herself at Jamie. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I had a whole speech prepared but then you started crying.” He chuckled into her neck.   

“You know I’m a crier!” she blubbered, fat tears rolling down her face.   

Jamie just laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.   

You were filming the whole time on your phone the second Jamie gave Bridget her first gift.   

“Congratulations!”   

“Well, what a good excuse to pop open the champagne you brought!” You teased pulling the bottle from the gift bag.   

Bridget gasped, “Oh yes! Grab it!”   

A few hours later you are three glasses deep in champagne and are trying to delicately place gumdrops strategically on the roof of your gingerbread house.   

Bridget’s also three glasses in and keeps giggling as she looks down at her hand.  

“Biiiiiiiiiirdie!” You drawl out looking over at your sister and her half-built house.   

“Stop gigglin’ about your mushy love life and build! I don’t want to win because you half assed it!” You pout, sending a playful glare at your sister.   

Bridget stuck her tongue out at you, “Magpie don’t be ugly. I’m two sheets to the wind and you know it!” Bridget said her accent seeping out of every syllable.   

You just laughed loudly, snorting, “We’re both two sheets to the wind!”   

The two are rolling on the floor filled with giggles. Jamie is sitting on the couch next to Big Joe in his chair just smiling at his fiancé.   

“I haven’t seen them this giddy since they were only up to my knee.” Big Joe said with a gruff chortle.   

“I told her to just apologize... Bridget’s so stubborn. She won’t ever admit that she looks up to her sister, but she spends a lot of time talking about her. Especially after that bank robbery she was in...”   

Big Joe nodded; a scowl crosses his face at the memory of the bank robbery. “That was the worst day of my life.”   

Big Joe turned to look at Jamie, “Did you know that boy from Thanksgiving is an FBI agent? He saved her.”   

Jamie’s eyes grow big as saucers. “What?”   

Big Joe nodded, “He saved my baby girl. I’ll always remember that.”   

Jamie grows quiet thinking it over, “...and they aren’t dating?”   

“Nope.”   

You and Bridget are back to working on the gingerbread houses, with deadly focus as they build. Your hands are shaking as you pipe icing for decoration on your house. Bridget is holding her breath as she places small colored candy pieces as fake lights.   

“Are you decorating the yard?” You asked her. You're looking at the cardboard base with laser focus.   

“I want to make a snow man, so yes.” Bridget replied.   

You sighed. “Fine I guess I’ll do something...” you pause biting your cheek in thought.   

You ruffled through the bag of candy and came across the Sour Patch Kids. You gasp in excitement and start putting the small child shaped gummies all over the base.   

Bridget looked over and pouted, “Hey! Those were for us to eat not decorate!” she whined.  

You rolled your eyes, “Birdie don’t get your panties in a twist- here I only grabbed three!” you said, handing over the bag to your sister.   

Bridget frowned, “Liar you used like, ten.” She said flipping you off.   

“I’ll eat them! It’s my share.” You exclaimed with a sigh.  

Bridget shoved the candy in her mouth, “You better, these are expensive.” She mumbled with her mouth full.   

Before you can respond there’s a knock on the door. You bolt up and go to answer. Still tipsy you wobbled a bit before standing straight. You open the door, and your eyes widen as you see Spencer on the doorstep.   

Your face is flushed from the champagne, and you’ve thrown a garland around yourself like a scarf, you looked a little ridiculous. Not to mention the remains of broken candy and frosting on you.   

“Merry Christmas.” He said, Spencer’s eyes slowly roam your form, and an amused smile formed on his face.   

You tried to wipe off whatever remains of the gingerbread house were on you, “Merry Christmas Spencer. I didn’t know you were coming by?” you said flustered.   

Spencer shrugged, “I couldn’t make it out to see my mom this year, I’m not staying long though.” He said turning to pull something from his satchel.   

You stand in the doorway wringing your hands and tilt your head in curiosity.   

“Here!” he exclaimed, finding what he was looking for, he handed over a small, wrapped gift to you.  

You gently grabbed the present from him, “I have yours inside- I can go grab it real quick.” you offered.  

Spencer shakes his head, “No it’s okay. Open yours first.”   

You can see how eager he is, so you do as he requested. You gently peel the wrapping paper off and it’s a jewelry box. You opened it and gasped seeing inside.  

“Oh wow... Spencer...” you whispered, the breath knocked out of you as you looked at the gift.   

It could be the champagne, or it could be that you are quick to cry, but your eyes well up with tears brimming and ready to fall.   

“You don’t like it-” He whispered as he moved to grab the box.   

You pull back away from him. You cradled your gift close, “No, Spencer this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever got me.” your voice cracked as you looked up at him, your tears falling.   

You tried to wipe them away, “Sorry-” you hiccupped, “I’m a little drunk.”  

Spencer just smiled at you.   

“God, now your present sucks in comparison.” you murmured looking at the beautiful necklace he gave you.   

Spencer snorts, “It’s not a contest.”   

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the necklace, turning your back to him.   

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked quietly.  

Spencer comes up behind you and his hands gently grab the silver chain. His hands are warm in comparison to the cold metal touching your skin. His touch is feather light as he focuses on clipping your necklace. His breath tickles the nape of your neck, and it sends a shiver through your body.   

“Sorry, it’s been out in the cold.” Spencer said, thinking your full body shiver was from the metal.   

You don’t reply, not trusting yourself. He fumbles for a moment, but the necklace is on. A beautiful magpie feather pendant rests against your collarbone.   

You turned back to him and tilted your head. “How... where did you even get this?” you asked holding the pendant in your hand.   

“It’s a long story, but I've been looking for a magpie present for a while.” You looked down at the ground with a shy smile.   

“I mean, that’s what your family calls you right? Magpie.” He whispered.   

You smiled, “It’s special...for me and Birdie.” she murmured quietly.   

“I thought so.” He replied softly, “I finally saw that in a store a while ago and it just, it made sense to me.” He said softly.   

You looked up at him and gave a tiny smile, “Thank you Spencer, this was really sweet.” you pushed up on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.   

“Wait right here, let me grab your gift.” you told him.   

You don’t see how red Spencer’s face is.   

You quickly rush inside and grab Spencer’s gift from under the tree. Bridget and Jamie are nowhere to be found but you can hear idle chatter in the kitchen.   

“Magpie,” You turned to see your dad looking at you expectantly.   

You tilted your head, “What is it daddy?”   

“That boy, the one at my front door,” He started.   

Spencer. Big Joe was talking about Spencer. You bite your lip. There’s too much alcohol in you right now to have whatever conversation this is. Not to mention Spencer’s probably freezing.   

“Spencer?” You asked for clarification.   

“Yes! Him... Magpie, are you in love with him?” He asked.   

You almost choke. You start coughing and look at your dad with wide eyes.  

“Where did that come from?!” you exclaimed.   

“Now, I ain’t stupid. I might be sick, but I got perfectly working eyes.” he said with a frown.   

You sputter for a second, “What makes you think that? He’s my best friend.” you cross your arms defensively.  

“Y/N.” Big Joe said sternly, giving his daughter a firm look. “I’ve seen how you look at that boy.”   

“Daddy,” you sighed. “I don’t have time to date- I have the store and you-”  

“Don’t use me as an excuse to not live your life, Magpie.” he said softly. Her dad reached out to hold your hand.   

You took a shaky breath, “Daddy- I can’t, I have to go give him this present. I can’t do this right now.”  

“I’ve seen how he looks at you, friends don’t look at each other like you two do.”  

You go silent and bite your lip. You look down at the gift in your hands, “I think I do... but I don’t know if I’m ready.” you whispered.   

Big Joe motions for you to bend down, opening his arms for a hug. You set Spencer’s gift over to the side and wrap your arms around your dad.   

“If you’re gonna fall in love with anyone, I’m glad it’s him.” He whispered as he hugged you tight.   

You pulled back and gave a sniffle, trying not to cry anymore.   

“I have to go, he’s probably freezing.” you told your dad, grabbing Spencer’s gift before walking back outside.  

You quickly rushed back to the door, Spencer still standing there, hands in his pockets.   

“Sorry, dad stopped me.” you said, handing him a box.   

Spencer nodded and gently opened the box. He pulled out a small diorama that was the size of a book. It was Sherlock Holmes apartment.   

“It’s for your bookshelf. It’s like a little decoration. I thought Sherlock would be perfect.” you said softly.  

“This is perfect, thank you.” He whispered looking at the details.   

“There are a few loose items that are still in the box. Once you set it up it’ll look great.” you added.   

Spencer put his gift back in the box and looked at you with a warm fondness that took your breath away for a moment. You’re still tipsy and feel warm all over and he’s looking at you with those big hazel doe eyes that have mesmerized you.   

“Stop looking at me like that...” you murmured, your hand playing with the magpie charm on your neck.   

Spencer chuckled, “Like what?” he tilted his head.   

You frowned, “Like, I don’t know, your big puppy eyes... like I’m doing something special.”   

Spencer tilted his head and stepped closer, “You are special.”  

Your face heats up in a flush, “Merry Christmas.” He pulled you into a quick hug before turning to leave.   

“Merry Christmas...” you murmured watching him leave.   

You lean against the door when you come back inside and cover your face.   

You heard murmured whispers from the living room and giggles.   

“He’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.” Bridget’s voice drifts toward you in a high-pitched tone.   

“What are you? Twelve?!” You groaned walking back into the living room.   

“Mmmmm maybe?” Bridget said with a giggle and threw her arms around you.   

You rolled your eyes and tried to stop the flush from creeping down your body. 

[emmg]

What's Good in the Fanfic Hood: DA Edition

(i also have a bg3 version coming up)

For no particular reason, and in no particular order, here's some good soup I need to share with the universe (aka tumblr). Very, very good fanfics right here

the interlude by @thessaralka >>GOOD SMUTTY SOLAVELLAN SMUT with a side of angst. Fade tongue, elf dick as an anxiety cure (her words not mine), just beautifully written shameless smut for the egg aficionados. And I'm not just saying this because I strong-armed her into writing this lol

A Breach of Decorum & Spill the Tea by kdriegantir >>> The sweetest Emmrook lil one shots. I was kicking my legs, twirling my hair, giggling like a school girl. Sooooooo cute

Flower in a Cage by @teamdilf >>> If you like some plot with your angst, this is it. I had soooo much fun reading this leading up to Veilguard. This is for my Elgar'nan girlies, even if technically he's not shipped with anyone here. But damn what a charming villain. I mean, we know now he's a massive bitch with an anger issue (and the bedroom-iest voice I've ever heard, like hot shit, ask me to sit on your lap daddy) but, eh, who cares, the fic is great lol

Rook, No. also by @teamdilf >>> I just caught up on this and it's soooo fun. Just Rook being a menace to society (in this case Solas is society.) The roommate scenario Solas never asked for while he cries internally about his wife

The whole Countdown to Veilguard series of drabbles by whoframedjessicarabbit >>> Just lovely, smutty, or not, Emmrook drabbles. Soooo fun to read

Suture by @heylittleriotact >>> ok so I JUST finished reading this, like maybe 10 minutes ago, and I have THOUGHTS. Because CUTE, so CUTE, how CUTE. Emmrook a la two awkward nerds. I'm waiting for my headache to pass to write a more coherant comment but in the meantime, big reccomend

I couldn't find some folks on tumblr, so just let me know and I'll tag you if you have an account

Thanks for tuning in, ta-ta

[player279achlys]

The golden rabbit’s legacy.

Il-nam’s granddaughter taking his legacy and falling in love with the Frontman.

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x Original!female!Character

Warnings: afab!, angst. Fear of losing someone. Smut (light kinda), grumpy x sunshine, dark romance, age gap, possessive, obsessed, paranoid and dominant In-Ho, daddy issues, yandere behaviour, jealousy, violence, murder, typical squid game stuff.

English isn’t my first language, if there are any mistakes, please forgive me. :)

Summary: In the shadow of her grandfather’s dark empire, Melinoe, a brilliant young woman in her early twenties, steps into a world of blood, betrayal, and power she was never meant to inherit. As the granddaughter of the infamous Oh Il-Nam, creator of the deadly Squid Games, she is thrust into a brutal legacy that demands she not only survive but thrive as its new hostess. Determined to honor her family’s name and prove herself worthy of the golden rabbit mask, she designs games more cunning and lethal than any before.

But power comes at a cost. Beneath her calculated exterior lies a woman haunted by guilt, trauma, and the faces of those she has condemned to die. And at her side stands Hwang In-Ho, the enigmatic Front Man—older than her, cold, and feared by all, except for her. Since the day he learned of her existence, In-Ho has been deeply, obsessively in love with Melinoe. His devotion is as intense as it is toxic, a tangled mix of desire and protectiveness that pushes him to control every aspect of her life.

As Melinoe rises to prominence, she finds herself navigating not only the deadly games but also the dangerous allure of In-Ho. Their relationship is a powder keg of suppressed emotions, forbidden passion, and fraught power dynamics. He would destroy anyone who comes close to her—including a charming, younger VIP who flirts with her one too many times. Yet, while In-Ho dreams of keeping her safe in his arms, Melinoe dreams of reshaping the games into something darker and more just—her own twisted vision of justice against the world’s worst offenders.

When the 33rd Squid Games begin, everything changes. With her grandfather entering the arena as Player 001 and Gi-Hun as Player 456, the games take on unprecedented stakes. As alliances crumble and bodies fall, Melinoe must contend with the weight of her grandfather’s legacy, the manipulations of the VIPs, and the unrelenting obsession of the man who would burn the world for her.

Will Melinoe rise as the queen of the games, or will the bonds of obsession and love be the end of her?

Coming soon since I finished my finals! This is a NEW fanfic of original female character x In-Ho.

I’m obsessed and no one can stop me, plz I need help.

I’ll try to post “the masters of the games” tomorrow.