#look at his little smile i love him so much

[inkandapex]

stream madness pt. 2

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue

Protect Max

Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.

It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.

"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.

"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip

"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"

"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round

"they're so sibling coded" "not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner" "she's so gonna beat Max again this round"

“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”

Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.

“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.

"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.

"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.

"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.

He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.

"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.

"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.

"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.

"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.

"lol poor max" "bet he misses P a lil extra today" "i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"

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Snitches get stiches

The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.

What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.

Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.

" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."

Then, a new message appeared.

"Ed said he let you win this morning."

Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.

"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.

"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."

The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.

"bro is cooked" "oh no she's mad" "not max snitching on lando AGAIN"

"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan." "Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled. "You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused. "Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive. "You were just playing with Max—" "—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?" "Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away." “How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.

“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.

"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play." "yeah that's right! you get him baby" "Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow" "This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.

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Taking her back

Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.

"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.

"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"

"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.

"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.

"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."

"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.

"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.

"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.

"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.

"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"

"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.

"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.

"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.

"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.

"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.

"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.

"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us" "NOOO don't leave Y/N" "LN being selfish lol" "hes neeeedy"

Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.

Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.

Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."

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Look at my girl

"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.

"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.

Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.

"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.

"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.

A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"

"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"

"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."

"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.

Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."

Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."

"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.

"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.

She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.

"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."

Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"

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Don't look at my girl

Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.

Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.

It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.

"hi Y/N" "okay hot mama!" "Y/N you look stunning babe" "can Lando fight?"

“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.

And then he saw it.

The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.

His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.

Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”

“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.

Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.

“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.

Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”

Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.

Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”

Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”

"still cant believe he was able to pull her" "Y/N leave him be with me" "she looks unreal" "lando better know how to fight"

Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.

“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.

She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.

“Pick.”

“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.

“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.

“Lan, it’s really not that—”

Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”

Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.

Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she’s looks like she's about to go to bed”

Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.

“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”

Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”

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Rumour has it

It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?

Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.

“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.

Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.

"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here" "i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls" "stop asking ab their personal lives guys" "theyre clearly fine, look at him" "oh theyre fine lol"

Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”

Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"

Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.

“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.

"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear

Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"

Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"

Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"

Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"

Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”

Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”

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Not so subtle

It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.

Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.

“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”

Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.

It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.

“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.

“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”

“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”

“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.

“Shut up, Connor."

Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.

“Lan, it’s been 15.”

“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.

"he's so stubborn lol" "poor y/n" "listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"

Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.

“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”

Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”

Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.

“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”

Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.

“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”

His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.

"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG" "look at his face she definitely said something" "bro is cooked lmao" "lando fumbled baaad"

Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints

"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.

Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.

“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”

Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.

"Max working extra hard tonight" "LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face" "Max being the bigger man, respect" "Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"

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Shameless

Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.

Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.

“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.

“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.

“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.

“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”

Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”

It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.

"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.

As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”

Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”

Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.

After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”

He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.

"post sex stream is insaaane" "man was glowing, no wonder" "PR team fighting for their life after this" "Landos phone bout to blow up" "meeting being set up as we speak"

Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”

Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Nick has been your best friend for so long, but you can’t seem to get a long with his brother—Chris. You try to mess with Chris and it backfires….badly….

Warnings: illegal street racing, stupid driving, tension, smut with so much plot it hurts, street racer Chris, BIG MASSIVE SHLONG CHRIS, size kink, bulge kink, dick-wad Chris, p n v, raw sex, riding (wink), and more....

A/N: THIS IS OVER 5.2K WORDS. THIS IS NAWT A QUICK READ. Now, get in the car bitches, we're getting HORNYYYYYY!!!!

With love and bigs tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, cute jeans!” I wave, my lips curling into a grin as I squint my eyes at him—Chris. He rolls his tongue, shaking his head as he stalks off further down the street. Ha. 

It’s one of those rare occurrences—I’m here—at his street race, for god knows what reason. 

All I ever do is mock him. In fact, that’s why I call him cute jeans. The first time Nick and I had shown up at one of these dumb things, Chris thought I was a stranger from behind—and my jeans? Damn. 

He had to be a real asshole and hit on me. 

That night was fun for more than one reason. It sparked something—something I didn’t know existed. 

After that, my teasing only got worse. Chris’s ego couldn’t handle staying silent, he always had something smart to say. 

“Come to watch me again, huh? Gonna record it for later, I bet,” Chris winks. My mouth snaps shut as I go to say something back. He’s already gone—not giving me a second to respond before shutting the door to his car and speeding down the road. 

Typical. 

It’s still bright out. The sun sinks lower into the horizon as more people crowd the deserted street by the minute. 

“Okay, let’s just take a couple more pics and then we’ll go. I know you hate this,” Nick huffs, adjusting the leather jacket he’s wearing—the same coat that inspired this whole photoshoot. But you couldn’t blame him, he did look hot as fuck. 

Even if his looks resemble a certain idiot lurking nearby. 

Part of me is burning with spite. I hate letting Chris have the last word. But my brain sparks with an idea, a brilliant idea. 

How much would it cost him if I stayed around? 

Those stupid bets were always placed in his favor. No one could deny he was good—really good. He drove on the street like he owned it and he never even seemed nervous. 

“I kinda wanna stay—” My words are interrupted as I feel an arm rest down on my shoulders. I look over to see Beck, a girl I love seeing. 

She’s vibrant—especially with her signature red lip that seemed to draw all eyes to her. I always blossom off her confidence, loving to sit next to her when she showed true female power all with one swing of that stupid flag in the air. 

“How are ya, girlie? Haven’t seen you in months,” she puffs, hugging me a little bit closer before dropping her arm back to her side. 

I smile over at her. “Pretty good, you still stomping on egos?” I question, the glint of mischief in her eyes reflecting back as she gives me a slow nod. 

“Oh, always. Especially Chris—and it’s just for you.” She boops my nose as her words drag through the wind, the sound of tires screeching starting to muffle the chaotic hum of the crowd forming. 

Nick stares down at the camera lens, scrolling through the pictures I had taken of him—the reason why we were here, pretty much. “Actually, I think we got enough. But are you sure you wanna stay? I can come back and get you later—”

Beck brushes on Nick’s shoulder. She scrunches her nose at me while licking over her teeth. “I got her, Nick. Go home and post those pics, I’ll return her to you safely after tonight, don’t worry.” 

“Alright…” Nick sighs, reluctantly hugging me and wandering back towards his car to head home. 

“So why’d you wanna stay? Finally like cars?” Beck interrogates. 

I shake my head vigorously, laughing as she smiles at me. “Fuck no, I just—”

“You’re gonna mess with him, aren’t you?”

Her question rings through the air as a speeding car flies by—racers already warming up.

My eyes trace towards the track, seeing a sleek red sports car in the distance doing donuts. Of fucking course. Chris was always doing some dumb shit—illegal street racing or doing fucking donuts while the other racers were repeatedly drifting around the corners or fixing up their cars. 

He’s so cocky. 

I whisper back to her as I watch his car tires mark the pavement. “Damn right.”

___

Chris is already fed up—I can tell by the way his jaw clicks and his nostrils flare when I catch him in the corner of my eye. 

And I’m looking directly at him, a stupid smile covering my face as I put my money on the bet table. It’s twenty bucks, but it was twenty bucks I was willing to spend, or rather waste. Chris hasn’t lost in a while—honestly I’m not sure if he ever has. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chris huffs, pulling me by the arm as he drags me to the side of the road by his car. 

He roughly shoves me. The feeling of his car pressed up against my backside leaves my eyes twinkling with pride—I’m really getting to him. Just like I planned.

I shrug. “Just placing my bets. Isn’t that what everyone does at these—”

“Why are you here? Why’re you–,” as his eyes stare into mine, his rough tone falls silent, his scowl curling into a smirk as he analyzes the subtle twitch of my nose. “Huh—just comin’ to watch, right?” 

I nod to his question, my pride sinking to my feet as I try to stand up tall. Chris presses his body against mine, making my weight lean against the car once more. I swallow thickly as his hand drops from my arm. 

What is he doing?

“You know, I meant it, right?” he tuts, his eyes tracing your figure with no shame. “These jeans… baby, they look so good on you.” His voice gets deeper, his head falling forward as his lips graze my ear. “-bet they’d look better off though, hm?”  

Fuck. 

I wish it didn’t make something inside the pit of my gut burn—but it did. God, it really fucking did. My heart is hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck pounding in my ears as slight butterflies in my stomach make it harder to breathe. 

Shoving my body quickly, I manage to escape his hold. “Shut up. You’re such a cocky prick,” I spit, my arms folding across my chest as I try to keep a stern expression. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh, grinning like he’s already won. He takes a couple steps forward, letting his hand travel into the ends of my hair, “And yet, you love it. I can practically hear how nervous I’m makin’ you, it’s a real ego boost,” he husks. 

“You don’t make me—” My lips fall open further, motionless as his hand moves to my neck, his cold fingers brushing against my pulse as my eyes go wide. 

“Not nervous, huh…” His head leans towards the side as he stares all over my face. His eyes linger on my lips as I try to look away. 

But it’s impossible. Chris swerves his head, not letting my eyes leave his as he just stares at me. 

“Chris, stop—”

“Why? Do I make you too nervous?” he urges, licking over his teeth and letting his hands drop down to his sides. 

I feel a wave of heat caress up my spine and over my shoulders. “Don’t you have some stupid race to lose?” 

The taunt seems humorous to him, the last resolve of my dignity peeking through mumbled words as he wipes over his mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll go try to lose, but—I might need your help.” He shrugs, walking off with a wink. 

Uh oh. 

Help?

___

I can’t tell what the fuck is going through his brain. Part of me regrets staying—but another part of me is sickly invested in whatever this twisted game is. 

Nearly all bets had been placed. Stacks of money rested on the plastic table with a heavy bais—most were betting on Chris. 

It had to be at least two grand. 

He wouldn’t give up two grand for some petty argument with me, right? No—that would be insane. Absolutely bonkers. 

…right?

I watch as Beck stands in the middle of the dark street, the only glow coming from the blue streetlights above. The sun had set quickly, the stars and moon doing nothing compared to the headlights from all the cars.

My legs hurt. I didn’t realize I had been clenching every muscle for the entirety of the countdown to the actual race. The cold bleachers sting against my skin in the night air—maybe I would’ve dressed warmer if I thought I was gonna stay. But no—I was stuck shivering in jeans, a purple lace bra peeking from under my black top, and a letterman jacket. 

The front row gave the best view, but I had no one to shield the bitter breeze. But it was worth it. This way I got to sit by Beck the entire time. 

“Racers ready?” she shouts, her voice prominent over the reviving engines as she holds the flag in the air. 

Chris is on the side closer to me, his boyish smile apparent as I stare at the side of his face. The other guy was one of the better ones—the bets had some sort of hope in him, a large stack of bills showing that he had a decent amount of skill. 

My mouth waters as I see Chris run a hand through his hair, his head turning and his eyes catching mine. Holy fuck. He looks absolutely dreamy—there’s not an ounce of anxiety, pure confidence radiating from him. 

And it makes it so hard to look away. 

“Wait, I got one more bet I gotta place,” Chris announces. 

What?

My brows furrow, my face scrunching as I watch Beck relax the flag back down to her side. “Make it quick.” 

Chris nods at her words, my stomach flutters as he stares directly back at me, leaning his head out his window while licking over his lips. “Wanna make a bet, sweetheart?” he asks. 

I look around me, my shoulder sinking slightly as I take in the amount of people staring at me. 

He’s holding up the race to embarass me. Fuck. 

As I stare back at him with squinted eyes, he clicks his tongue on the side of his mouth. “If I win, I get to take you for a drive. Deal?”

“What?” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air as I motion to the bet table, “Why the hell would I agree to that—”

“You bet against me, remember?” he points. 

My lips smack shut, the lump in my throat gathering thicker as I try to swallow. “I’ll even give you the chance to make sure I lose a round. We gotta bet or not?” he questions, his eyes twinkling as the blue lights illuminate his sharp features.  

If he had to lose one of the three rounds, that put more hope into the other racer. And if the other race won, I’d be more than content. Getting to call him a loser would definitely irk him more than anything—especially if it was true.

I hear boos chant around me. “Hurry up and race!” someone says from behind me. 

My body stiffens as I hear the chorus of disapproval. “Deal!” I shout, biting on my inner cheek. 

Chris looks at me with a daunting grin, his hand squeezing on the wheel as he nods. “A’right—ready. Sorry for the hold up.” 

Beck rolls her eyes, holding up the flag once more. 

“Racers ready?” she glares at Chris, continuing on as he revs his engine in response, “3—2—-1, GO—”

My heart drops as I watch the smoke from the tires scratching the street float around Beck. She saunters over, settling beside me as I lean forward, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watch them race side-by-side. 

As the car rounds the corner and starts nearing the finish line, Chris’s car zooms just slightly in front of the other vehicle, only seconds of a difference. 

I can’t wait to call him a fuckin loser. 

Beck walks back out, the flag raising in the air as both cars position once again. “Alright, race two. Ready, set—” 

“Hey!” 

Stomping her heels on the pavement, Beck scowls at Chris as he shouts towards my direction. I look over, my face burning as I feel the crowd stare down at me. 

I didn’t know much about racing, but I knew enough. This wasn’t normal—this was the prime way to piss people off. 

As I go to ask what he wants, Chris curls his finger, motioning for me to come closer. 

The fuck? 

I hesitantly stand up, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso as I walk up to his car window. Chris stares up at me with devious eyes. He obnoxiously chews a piece of gum, his jaw bone protruding with each movement. 

“What the fuck do you want?!” I whisper-yell, catching angry eyes boring onto me as I take a quick glance over my shoulder. 

Oh, these people are mad—fucking furious, even. 

“Kiss me.” 

I do a double take, my eyes blinky slowly as I watch him lick over the bottom ridges of his teeth, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“What?” I breathe out, a dry laugh heaving from my lips. 

He can’t be serious…

“However long you kiss me is however long I’ll wait to start drivin’. Didn’t you want me to lose? C’mon pretty girl, you saw the bet table—use your head, alright? It’s just a kiss,” he taunts.

This is how he was gonna give me the chance to make him lose a round—I should’ve known. 

I shake my head, cringing as I hear the boo’s from the crowd get louder. 

“I’m startin’,” Beck says, holding up the flag. “3—”

“Yes or no? It’s up to you,” he shrugs, his eyes drawing over my face as my lips smack open and shut. 

“2—”

The noise of his engine revving makes my anxiety settle. This is my chance—my only chance at that. 

“Fuck it,” I murmur, taking a long stride towards him. 

“1—GO!” 

I crash my lips onto his, my hands on either side of his jaw. His lips meet mine with a hard urgency, the rhythm of my movement panicked and rushed. 

My breath hitches in my chest—I don’t know if it’s because I forgot to breathe or if it’s from the feeling of his hand traveling up and tangling around the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as he slips his warm tongue into my mouth. 

I nearly forget everything, gasping for air as I pull back quickly, moaning as I feel his mouth hungrily chase mine. 

Never in my life had I been kissed like this—so passionately and rough. 

“Hey! This gotta be breakin’ some rules–”

Fuck. 

The person yelling from the crow makes me pull back into reality. I stand up, watching as Chris slowly flutters his eyes open at me with a grin so cocky my hand twitches with the urge to slap him. 

Why did that feel so… good? 

Before anyone can say a thing, the other car slowly halts back to the starting line. 

Had we really been kissing that long? 

My fingers mindlessly float up to my tingling lips, my head feeling lighter as the surroundings start to spin a bit. It’s like he put some drug in his mouth that immediately became addicting. I want more. 

“See? I kept my word,” Chris points out, “Now—you gonna keep your word if I win? Lemme take you for a drive?” I swallow thickly, nodding slowly. “Good. Now go sit down and cheer for me real loud, alright?” 

I don’t have time to respond before Beck interrupts with the same question, starting to count down. I quickly stumble back towards the bleachers, a sigh of relief pushing through my lips as my head bobbles between my shoulders while I sit down. 

The loud cars barely register in my brain. All I can focus on is how light everything feels, how my lips are swollen and pulsing. 

“C’MON!!!” 

Chants behind me draw my attention back to the road. What the fuck? It’s not even close—Chris is speeding around the corners way smoother than the first round, almost as if he had been—

Oh fuck.

He was holding back. 

I tried to mess with him and he played me with ease. 

Part of me should be mad as he races near the finish line—but all I feel is excitement—anticipation. 

My teeth clench into my lower lip as I watch him storm past the line, not even waiting for the other racer to finish before stepping out of his car and walking over. 

Is he…?

My eyes bulge as he walks in front of me, holding his hand out as an offer. “C’mon, you promised, yeah?” he urges. 

I nod slowly, sliding my hand in his. He drags me to his car, opening the passenger door and shutting it after I climb in. 

“Chris! The money—”

Beck’s words fall on deaf ears as Chris slides into the driver seat, pressing his foot on the gas hard. 

“You didn’t even get the money—what’re we doing?” I ask, looking behind my shoulder to see a crowd of people turned to our direction as we speed off further down the road. 

“You know, it’s not nice to try and tick me off,” he huffs, quickly glancing at me with a harsh stare. 

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ abou–”

Chris lets out a vocal sound of disbelief, cutting me off, “Yeah, you do. Fuckin—bettin’ against me, tryna get me to lose and shit. For what? Don’t have a boyfriend to give you any attention, huh?” he asks, his hand reaching over and grasping onto my thigh. 

He knows I don’t have a boyfriend—I know he’s aware of that fact. 

I stare down at his large hand squeezing my jean-clad leg. Something about his rough grip makes me shift in my seat, my thighs clutching together as I feel a wave of warmth settle into the pit of my stomach. 

“You like my hand on your thigh, don’t you?” he says, smirking wider as I watch the blue streetlights cast a subtle glow on his cheekbones. 

“I—”

“You like it. Admit it.” 

There’s no room to argue as he trails his hand up further, his fingers tracing dangerously high as he gives me a rough squeeze. Fuck his hands feel good on me. 

“Chris what’re you—”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly see you and know I can’t touch you?” he starts, the car rolling to a stop by the side of the road as he rushedly shifts gears to park, “-you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me—bein’ a damn brat and I have to keep my hands to myself,” he grits, shaking his head as he stares down at me. 

I swallow thickly as I shift in the seat. “Chris, I–”

“No. None of that bullshit. You’re always tauntin’ me. Why’d you stay, hm? Why?” he questions, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth as his eyes deepen with intensity and dominance. 

Silence. I can’t fathom any words to say, my pulse drumming quicker as Chris pats his lap, adjusting his chair back. 

“Over here. Now.” 

“Chris, what are we doing?” I ask, hesitantly starting to climb over the center console. 

His hands wrap around the underside of my thighs, pulling me quickly while I let out a slight yelp as he sits me down in his lap. His hands are firm on either side of my hips. “I’m done playin’ these stupid fuckin’ games. I just—” 

The air is quiet. His eyes fall to my lips, his hands grasping just a little bit tighter around me. I can still feel the lingering sensation from his lips on mine earlier, the slight tingle still buzzing on the soft muscle as I let myself lean in closer. 

“We should stop,” Chris breathes, his tongue sliding between his lips as his eyes flicker up towards mine. 

“Why?” 

The question rolls off my lips with ease, my palms flattening against his chest as I lower my mouth to his neck, breathing over his pulse. 

“Because–” He lets out a hiss. I place my lips on his neck, sucking gently as I massage my hand over his shoulder. “Shit—we gotta stop, baby—this, this–” His jaw goes slack as I find his sweet spot. His hands dig into my hips, the slight bulge growing beneath me making my lips curl into a smile as I gently grind myself on top of him. 

“Why do you wanna stop, Chris?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of his ear, “What’s got you so tongue-tied, hm?” 

“You’re killin’ me,” he points, his gaze trained on me as he tangles his hand through my hair, pulling me back just enough to look at him, “-fuckin’ so annoying, so pretty and horrible, I just—I don’t know how much I can hold back–”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my hand gathering the material of his shirt in a fist as I watch him bite on his lower lip. His eyes trace over my face, one of his hands slowly tracing underneath my shirt, callusing beneath my bra. 

“Yeah? Don’t want me to hold back, hm?” he remarks, his hips adjusting in the slightest, my mouth falling open as I feel him rut against me through the fabric of our clothes. 

Fuck. I can’t take this. 

I lean forward, crashing my lips against his once more. Chris hums into my mouth. He furiously helps me peel off the bulky letterman jacket, the cold air feeling like relief compared to my burning skin. 

“Holy fuck, slow down, baby,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips as I shameless grind myself against his hard bulge. But I can’t get enough. “-’m not going anywhere—gonna stay and make you feel so good. Promise.” 

My heart drops as I feel his hand delicately caress over the purple lace covering my breasts. His nimble fingers trace around my hardened nub, a slight moan falling through my lips as I feel him smirk against me. 

“Take those cute jeans off, c’mon. Be a good girl for me—just this once, alright?” he grins. 

I nod slowly, awkwardly shifting as I pull down the denim while kicking off my shoes. Chris gets impatient, yanking the clothing to his own accord before planting me back on his lap, his jacket now discarded. 

“Holy fuck, look at these legs—would look so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, brushing my hair to the side as his lips graze my neck, “-while I fuck you deep and hard.” 

Oh my god. 

My mind is numb, every inch of my skin pulsing with a hot sensation of greed. Chris stares at me with lust, his hand moving in the corner of my eye. “Want me to touch you? Right….here,” he breathes, the pad of his finger resting directly over my bundle of nerves. 

I nod slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes as he starts to slowly circle the digit with a light, feathery touch. 

“More,” I moan, pulling his shirt into my fists as I watch him smile at me. 

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Want my big dick in you? Want me to stretch you out and make you cum over and ov—

“Please,” I whisper, my hips moving for me as I struggle to stay still. 

Chris looks down, gesturing for me to take control. I hesitantly fumble with his jeans, pulling out his hard length as my mouth starts to water. 

Fuck. He’s big. No—he’s huge. 

As I go to pull my underwear to the side, Chris stops me, placing his hand around my wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “-take ‘em all the way off—wanna see all of you when I fuck your guts.” 

My thighs tense from his words, my hands quickly sliding the fabric down my thighs and discarding them without a single care. Chris pets over the top of my thighs, his eyes hungrily staring down between my legs. “Fuck—are you sure you want this? I…god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

I grab his hardness in my hand, spitting and dragging the lubricant up and down his shaft. Chris grits his teeth. His hands pinching into my sides as he lets out a deep groan. “You’re so big,” I whisper, mostly talking to myself. 

My eyes bulge as I feel Chris lift me with his hands on either side of my waist, placing me so my dripping entrance is directly aligned with his tip. His eyes bore into mine with dark passion. His jaw tense as he leans forward, kissing along my neck. 

“You gonna take it all f’me?” he dares, massaging my sides but keeping me from sinking down onto him. 

“Chris, please–”

“Gotta promise to take it all, sweetheart. Been teasin’ me all day already, I don’t need anymore of that, alright? Just—just gotta promise to let me stuff you full,” he purrs, sucking on the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear. 

“I promise, just—mmphf—” He slowly loosens his grip, letting me lower myself. I feel his tip nudge past my entrance, the stretch of his size making my body tense as my legs tighten to a halt. 

“Thaatt’s it, doin’ so good, just—just relax,” he praises, brushing my hair behind my ear, “-gotta be a good girl and keep your word again, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, slowly starting to take more of him. A broken cry falling through my lips as I feel my body stiffen again. 

Chris is patient. His eyes are trained on my face as his hands massage over my body. “You got it, c’mon—just—holy fuck,” his hand lingers down to my stomach, my top so messed up that it’s bunched over my breasts. He’s not just admiring the skin, he’s worshipping the bulge—the distinct imprint of him inside of me as I hover over the last bit of his length. 

“Look at that, sweetheart, I mean—fuck—” 

I shriek as I feel him lift his hips upward, burying himself inside of me completely. My hands grasp onto his shoulders, my eyes teary as I watch him bite on his lower lip. “God—such a good girl, takin’ me so good,” he compliments, slowly helping me as I start to ride him. 

I feel him reach deep inside of me, my eyes staring up at the ceiling of the car while my body tenses with a wave of pleasure collapsing over every beating pulse of my skin. This is even better than that damn kiss. I’ve never felt like this before. Not ever. It’s like an adrenaline rush, so overbearingly good that it feels addicting.  

“How’s that, baby, hm?” he hums, smiling down at the sight of his length plunging into my guts with each thrust as my movements quicken. 

“I–it’s, I—” 

What the fuck was I saying? 

Everything feels so light, so impossible. 

“That’s it, fuckkkkk—look so good ridin’ me like this, keep—-shit!” he seethes. My walls tighten around him, my nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt as he lifts his hips to meet my movements.

His lips parted with pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, I,” My words are cut off my a moan. 

Chris laughs dryly, his grip becoming tighten as he really puts in the work—using me like a ragdoll as he furiously fucks himself into me. “Mmmm, th-ere,” he rasps, smiling as I let out small shrieks and moans between each snap of his hips. 

He’s so deep. I’d never felt this good in my life. There’s a buzzing in my ears, spots in my vision as I feel my body ruthlessly convulse with the overwhelming sensations. 

How the fuck is he so deep?

How the hell is he hitting against the perfect spot over and over and over—

“You cumming already?” 

His question pulls me back to reality. I nod dumbly, my mouth drawing open as I let out a long moan, my thighs quivering as I rock myself against his movement. 

“Oh—I—”

“My name, sweetheart, wanna hear my–my name, c’mon,” he urges, the squelches getting louder as I feel my body burn with euphoria. 

“Chris, Chris, I–I—my god,” I cry out, my hips slowly rolling to a stop as I feel him pause his motions. 

I don’t have time to react—nor to recover. I feel Chris hold me tightly, flipping me over so my back hits the seat—his cock brutal as he drills himself inside of me. 

“Take it, fuckin—fuckin’ take it,” he chants. 

My hands scramble into his hair. I pull his face into my neck, letting my teeth sink into his shoulder. Every rut of his hips leaves me breathless, my body seizing as I feel his hardness drive into me over and over again while his pelvis slaps against my clit. 

“I’m gonn—”

“Wait. Wait for me, I’m—’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close—”

I clench around him, the buildup becoming too much as he continues to drown every inch of my body with pleasure. His desperate tone lingers in the air, his breaths shaking as his hips lose slight momentum. 

“Wher–-where do you—”

“In-inside, please, just—just let me cum,” I plea. 

Chris huffs, his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow deeper. “Cu-cum with me, I—shittttttttt, so fuckin’ good, so… so fuckin’ good,” he seethes, a warm sensation flooding inside of me as I feel my body convulse once more. 

My limbs fall lifelessly. Our motions fall lazier, eventually pausing to a halt. Chris gently removes himself, pulling me into his arms tightly and positioning back into the seat with me on his lap. 

His hand finds the back of my head as I lean onto his shoulder, petting through my hair as we both try to catch our breath. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. I let out a light laugh, flinching as I feel my stomach burn from soreness. “You good there?” he asks. 

Nodding into the crook of his neck, I lift myself to stare at him once more. My eyes trace from his sweat ridden face, seeing a clear imprint of his hand on the fogged-up car window. My nose crinkles as I inhale deeply. “It smells like sex, I’m sorry,” I let out. 

Chris stares at me incredulously. “Sorry? That was fuckin’ perfect—better than the money if you ask me. I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself anymore,” he teases, flashing me a grin as he combs my hair behind my ear. 

My lips curl with excitement. “Oh really? You like takin’ me for rides?” 

He nods firmly, biting on his lower lip. “Mhm. And you seemed to really like ridin’.” 

I let out a light laugh, shrugging my shoulders before ruffling his hair playfully. “Only with you.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, “Only me, huh?” I nod shyly, letting out a brief hum. His eyes linger on mine before falling back to my lips. “You do ride good. Maybe you should be the racer,” he taunts. 

“Maybe,” I whisper, “-maybe…” 

“Let’s get you back in those cute jeans though, yeah?” 

[eddiesxangel]

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ‘I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy… for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[navybrat817]

This man. This gif!

Take Them Off

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky just wants to read. You have other ideas.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smut, teasing, slight possessive behavior, dirty talk, mentions of spanking and fingering, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another quickie, but I hope you lovelies. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t ask for a lot. In fact, all he wanted to do today was finish his book and not move from his chair. Very simple, and he should’ve known you would take it as a challenge.

Since he said he didn’t want to move from his chair, you decided to tease him and strut around the place in just your underwear as you did chores. And not just any pair of underwear. You had a pair specially made that had “Property of Bucky Barnes” written on the front and back. He was hard and aching for what felt like hours thanks to you.

He could admit it was fun when you teased him, but he could only take so much.

“Take them off.”

Three simple words. All you had to do was listen. Bucky sure as hell put enough authority in his voice, and he knew damned well you heard him since you looked over your shoulder with a playful smirk.

“What was that?” you asked, toying with the band of your underwear. “You want me to take these off?”

He exhaled slowly and gripped the arms of his chair. It was an impressive feat that he hadn’t done any damage to the furniture. “Yeah. Take them off. Now.”

You pretended to think about it. “Or what?”

Bucky snarled when you darted just out of his reach and had the audacity to shake your ass at him, which only made you smirk more. Whenever you got close to him, you moved away with a giggle. Both of you knew he could catch you if he wanted to, and he would, but he was trying his best not to leave his chair.

But once you got close enough, he’d put you over his knee. Maybe spank you. Maybe yank that special pair of underwear down and fuck you with his fingers until you came all over them, only after you begged for it. And after a little edging for all the teasing.

The question was if he wanted to fuck you with his metal fingers or not.

“Or I’ll cut them off,” he threatened.

You faced him as you played with the band again, his cock ready to burst from his pants when you pulled them down enough to show him your mound. Just as quickly as you pulled them down, you pulled them back up. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You drive me crazy,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. His scalp tingled at the thought of you pulling on the long strands. A very good kind of pain.

“And you love me for it,” you smiled.

His gaze momentarily softened. You were the light of his life, always. “I do. Very much,” he swore, brandishing a knife from his pocket and twirling it for you to see. “And maybe I can turn that threat into a promise if you get over here.”

You gasped and he didn’t have to look between your legs to know there was a wet patch on the fabric. “Is this the part where I go ‘is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me’, Barnes? Or are you planning to stab me with your dick?”

His blue eyes darkened when you took a step closer. As much as he wanted to put you over his knee, he also wanted to lavish your gorgeous breasts with the attention they deserved. “I’m going to destroy all of your holes tonight, and I might just fuck your pussy last,” he said, going in for the kill. “Or maybe I won’t fuck your pussy at all since you’re a fucking tease.”

He wanted to smirk when you narrowed your eyes and took two steps closer. Close enough for him to grab you. “A tease doesn’t back up their words and you know damned well I always-”

Careful not to cut you because he’d never hurt you, he gripped your wrist and chuckled when he yanked you over the armrest. “Follow through. I know, baby. I know.”

He half expected you to squirm or struggle, but you only moaned when brought the blade to your hip. He saw you rub your thighs together. The teasing had worked you up, too. Good. “Are you really going to cut these off?” you pouted.

He sank his teeth into his lip when he read the words along your ass. It would be a shame to destroy them since he was already going to destroy what was underneath. “Maybe, maybe not,” he mused, grazing the blade along your skin to make you shiver. “I’ll think it over while I finish my book.”

You tensed up and slowly turned your head. “You’re still going to finish your book? Are you kidding me?” The fire in your eyes almost made him lose his cool, but he used to be the Winter Soldier. He didn’t break so easily.

“You knew that was my plan today. Not my fault the sight of me gets you hot and bothered,” he smiled, rolling his hips up so you could feel just how hard he was in his pants. To be fair, the sight of you did the same thing to him. “So sit tight, get comfortable, and we’ll see if you can figure out which hole I’m fucking first.”

Because if you got to tease him, he got to tease you, too.

Once again, nothing to see here, lovelies! Go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[my-castles-crumbling]

freshman - march 1 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - NSFW (implied sex but not detailed) - word count: 523

“....so fucking perfect, guys,” James said reverently, laying on his dorm bed and grinning, knowing he had been rambling for too long, and yet completely unable to stop. He’d been talking about this all day, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about him. “He had…God, the most perfect eyes, and this little smirk that just…fuck. And his body. Fuck, I would’ve been happy just staring, but then he just dragged me into that room, and pushed me on the bed-”

“We’re happy for you, mate,” Sirius interrupted, grinning, even though all of them had heard the story of James’s mystery man at least ten times. “Glad you had fun at the party.”

“Oh, the party was awful. Right, Pete?” James asked Peter, who still looked a bit pale from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. 

“I think so,” Peter mumbled, head in his hands.

“But fuck, it didn’t even matter. That guy was….” James grinned and launched into the more specific details again.

Remus and Peter seemed to zone out, but Sirius, the amazing friend he was, smiled and nodded along as James went on and on, giving a play-by-play, asking the appropriate questions and giving the appropriate reactions.

“...and I think I’m in love,” James finished, after giving the details about how he and the other man finished. “But I’m kicking myself because I didn’t get his number! Didn’t even get his name!”

“M’sure you’ll see him soon,” Sirius said bracingly, clapping him on the shoulder. “The school’s small. Which reminds me– Reg’s starting as a freshman here this year! I told him to stop by to visit soon, so he can meet all of you.”

The others made noises of excitement. Ever since they’d started rooming together at University last year, they’d heard a lot about Regulus, and everyone was eager to meet him. Before any more could be said, there was a knock on the door of their room.

“Reg!” Sirius yelled, ignoring Peter’s moan of complaint at his loudness. He bounded off of his bed and wrenched open the door. “Mates, this is-”

James stared into the gray-blue eyes he’d been thinking about for the past twelve hours and gasped out loud. “Fuck,” he mumbled, his shock mirrored in Regulus’s own expression.

It was Remus who realized first, and Peter shortly after. They broke into fits of giggles as Sirius still looked between James and Regulus confusedly, obviously missing something. But after twenty blissful seconds, he gasped a truly horrified gasp. 

“Oh no,” he cried, turning a deep shade of maroon. “Oh my God. James!” He pointed a shaking finger at James, who had a hand over his mouth. “You-you told me all about how much you love shagging my brother!? You gave me details! Oh fuck, I asked questions!”

James glanced at Regulus, who seemed to be struggling not to join in on Remus and Peter’s laughter. He sent James a smirk and said. “That good, eh?”

And James couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough.

“Someone kill me,” Sirius wailed in the background.

But James was too busy staring at Regulus again.

[bbokicidal]

All About You | SKZ [B.C.]

Summary: Chan as a Service Top

Headcanons Genre: Purely Smut Pairing: Bangchan x Afab!Reader Warnings: Submissive!Chan but not really.. Dominant!Reader? Neither parties are too dominant. Riding, Chan topping, Reader giving Chan instructions, etc.

The definition of a 'Service Top' fluctuates; To some it means a Top who wants to be bossed around and instructed, to others it means a Top who wants to fulfill their partners wishes even if they dislike the kink/fetish, and to some it's just a top who is softer than most dominants.

You realize after the first few times of having sex with Chan that he doesn't really like doing some of the things you've explored in the past; He's too shy to initiate anything unless he's tipsy, he's not super grabby, he refuses to pin you down or put his hand around your throat. He prefers to let you take the lead.

When questioned about it, he's so shy. He pushes his hands down between his thighs before reaching to rub at the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears pink as he gently explains to you that he's never really been an overly dominant person in the bedroom - and he's a little afraid you'll be disappointed. He's sexy, built like a God - and unwilling to take control of you.

But when you smile and reassure him that it's totally okay - that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to - he seems to relax. He looks over at you with the kindest, gentlest eyes and a smile that makes his dimples pop as you tell him that he's more than welcome to ask questions, tell you what he likes, etc. And he feels so over the moon just knowing you're not upset with him about it.

Chan's favorite position is you on top of him; Riding him until he's pink in the cheeks, his hands resting on your hips but not pushing or pulling at you. He loves seeing you on top, using his body just to please yourself and not caring much about how he feels (even if he is also in Heaven.) And, of course, sitting on his face. He's leaking cum just a minute or two after you begin to roll your hips down against his tongue. He's obsessed with it - loves being suffocated underneath you and letting you hump his mouth.

He gets off on you praising him. Not too much, though. He likes to hear how good he makes you feel, how you're going to get addicted to his cock because it fills you up so good - or how his body is just a toy for you to use to get off.

Actually, Chan really, really loves when you call him your toy. Only in the bedroom, of course. But he does get all blushy when you make comments like, "Think I might use a toy when I'm done cleaning up after dinner." and then spare him a glance. He knows exactly what that means and while you finish up dishes, he'll run to the bedroom to lay down and get ready for you.

He also loves being told what to do - that's the whole point of being a service top, right? Being told what to do, how to do it, when to do what.

Though, Chan prefers when you're more gentle with him when it comes to instructions. He likes when you ask him to do something instead of demanding it because it makes the moment feel more intimate, more romantic. It makes him feel more comfortable when he's on top of you.

If you're on top, he's fine with you barking at him to fuck up into you faster or harder - But if he's on top, please be gentle with your words. He's doing the best he can and he's there solely for your pleasure.

A lot of the times Chan doesn't even care if he gets off or not. If you're happy and three orgasms in while he hasn't even come once, it's totally fine! He doesn't mind because, again, he's there to please you and you only. He doesn't care if he gets to release or not.

But adding onto that, Chan can come just from you being pleased. If he's fucking you and you're whimpering, writhing, moaning out his name and creaming around his cock - Yeah, he's probably going to come. Not even from the feeling, though it is very nice, but from the fact that he's the one making you feel that good.

On the occasion that Chan does take control and takes the lead, which is mostly when you're too tired or stressed about something to boss him around, he's still as soft as ever - but he'll have sex with you in a more.. love-making manner. He wants to make sure you feel good still and especially during these moments he's more focused on your pleasure than anything else. He'll use your favorite toys, be gentler with you, kiss over your skin and whisper how much he loves you. He'll also be more vocal during these times because he knows just how much you love to hear his voice.

I really don't have much experience writing or actually experiencing anything service top related so I'm sorry if these aren't the best. I tried!

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY

Synopsis - Your boyfriend is tired after a long day of work and you have been impatient all day, just to have him inside you again but then the apple foreplay starts. You don’t know if you want to ride him harder or smack him with that in the face. (6.8k) Pairing - Caleb!possessive!boyfriend x Needy!Reader Warnings - (nsfw 18+) He’s being playful sadistic tease, lap riding, orgasm edging, unprotected raw vaginal sex, a lot of kisses, creampie, a little handjob, slight nipple play, apple foreplay, dirty talk, pet names(baby, buttercup, pipsqueak, brat, pretty girl, little seagull, Miss Apple) - He is sweet but such a big flirt, I can't. - Their sexual chemistry is off the charts here. Don’t judge, okay? (And sorry Zayne, the apples are really keeping you away while Caleb is in charge-sorry, had to say it, haha) Hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin as you padded through the apartment, his oversized t-shirt doing little to conceal the anticipation thrumming beneath. You loved the way his clothes swallowed you whole, a tangible reminder of his presence even when he wasn't there. But he was home now, or at least, that's what the click of the automatic lock had signaled, a sound that usually heralded a greeting, a kiss, a moment of reconnection.

But silence hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual boisterous energy he carried. Frowning, you followed the sound of your own bare feet against the polished floor, drawn towards the bedroom.

The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

Caleb was a study in contrasts. The crisp lines of his uniform, usually immaculate and imposing, were softened by the loosened tie and the undone buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of the powerful chest beneath. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide, a posture that usually radiated confidence and control. But his head was bowed, his eyes closed, and the lines etched around his mouth spoke of exhaustion. He looked utterly drained.

"Caleb?" you murmured, your voice soft, laced with concern. He was a man of steel, a protector, a force to be reckoned with, but even steel could bend under pressure.

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, a flicker of recognition sparking within the deep purple depths. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, a slow, weary curve that tugged at your heart.

"Hey, baby," he rasped, the sound rough around the edges, a testament to a long and arduous day.

Instinct took over. You moved towards him, drawn by an invisible cord of affection and worry. Dropping to your knees on the soft rug by the bed, you nestled between his legs, pressing your cheek against the solid warmth of his thigh. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of leather, gun oil, and a hint of something uniquely Caleb, filled your senses, grounding you. Your hands gripped his other leg, anchoring you to him, seeking reassurance in his physical presence.

"You okay? You look tired," you asked, your voice a soft murmur against the fabric of his uniform.

His gaze softened, the weariness momentarily receding as his eyes focused on you, dressed in his old t-shirt. It was several sizes too large, completely swallowing your frame, the fabric draping around you in a way that highlighted your delicate features. The effect was undeniably cute, a disarming vulnerability that contrasted sharply with the fierce, independent woman he knew you to be. It made him forget, for a fleeting moment, the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin. The sight of you, so sweetly nestled against him, so readily offering comfort, stirred a primal protectiveness within him. It also ignited a spark of desire, a hunger to devour you whole, looking so tempting and innocent in his oversized shirt.

His hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair, the touch gentle and possessive. He separated the strands, feeling the silky texture against his calloused skin, the contrast both soothing and stimulating. He cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips, a silent invitation.

You parted your lips for him, a subconscious act of surrender. He didn't hesitate, slipping his thumb past your teeth, the pad of his finger rough against your tongue. You tasted his skin, the faint tang of sweat and the underlying scent that was uniquely his, a scent that always sent a shiver of arousal through you.

"Oh, you know, the usual," he drawled, his voice regaining some of its usual playful edge. "Just a normal clean up tonight. Nothing crazy."

"Then why do you look like you're about to fall asleep any second now?" you managed to ask, your words slightly muffled by the presence of his finger in your mouth.

He pressed deeper, exploring the sensitive flesh behind your teeth, teasing and tantalizing. You widened your lips, granting him greater access, your saliva slicking his finger like a glaze. He watched you, his eyes hooded, a mixture of weariness and desire swirling within their depths. A tired chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"The fleet work has been hectic lately," he admitted, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "But seeing you waiting for me at home is worth it."

The heat bloomed in your cheeks, a flush of pleasure and embarrassment. You playfully nipped at his finger, a silent protest against his teasing. His eyes glinted with amusement. "What are you up to now, pipsqueak?" he said, his voice a low purr. "Don't pretend I didn't see that pink peek under my shirt."

You whined softly, unable to form a coherent sentence, your thoughts already scattered by the sensation of his finger dancing against your tongue. He made you suck on it a few more times, drawing out the pleasure, coating it in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

Finally, relenting, he withdrew his finger, sliding it slowly along your lips, leaving a trail of your drool in its wake. He waited, his gaze fixed on your face, watching the play of emotions flitting across your features. Your eyes were glazed, your breath coming in shallow pants, and your attention was clearly drawn to the burgeoning bulge straining against the fabric of his trousers. He was already hard, fueled by the simple act of you sucking on his finger, and the knowledge of your desire sent a secret thrill through you.

You loved his cock. You always had. It was the perfect shape, the perfect size, designed to fit you like a glove, to fill you completely, to drive you to the brink of madness with pleasure. The mere thought of it throbbing inside you, of feeling your clit pulsing in anticipation, sent a wave of heat crashing through your body.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he spread his legs wider, increasing the angle of your view, making his arousal even more prominent beneath his pants. He looked impossibly large and imposing, the uniform adding to his aura of masculine power.

"Well, now," he murmured, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Looks like someone's got a little… itch they need scratching."

He reached out, his fingers smoothing your hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Say the words, buttercup," he whispered, his voice a husky invitation. "What do you need?"

You were too far gone to resist, too consumed by the burning need that had taken root deep within your core. Shame flickered across your face, a brief and insignificant spark against the overwhelming tide of desire.

"I… I need your cock," you breathed, the words a soft, desperate plea, your face burning with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

He chuckled, a low, predatory sound that vibrated through you. “Need it, do you? Well, I’ve got plenty to offer. Where do you want it, baby? Do you want to taste me first? Beg for it?” He watched your face, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “In your mouth, making you choke on it? Buried deep in your ass, stretching you until you scream? Or do you want it throbbing inside your tight pussy?” he mocked, the words a low, husky rasp that sent shivers dancing down your spine. His voice held a playful cruelty, a deliberate goading that both thrilled and terrified you. “Tell me. You need to be more specific."

Each syllable was a spark, igniting a firestorm within you. You leaned closer, driven by a primal need that overrode any sense of shame. He watched, his eyes narrowed and glittering with predatory interest as you rubbed your face against his crotch, inhaling deeply. The scent of leather clung to him, a familiar aroma that always seemed to intensify when he was aroused, mingling with a musky, undeniably masculine scent that was uniquely Caleb. It was a heady blend, an intoxicating cocktail that stripped away your inhibitions and left you craving more. You felt like a pet, a creature starved for affection and finally presented with its favorite, most forbidden treat.

"In���in my pussy," you whispered, the words barely audible, a fragile offering into the heavy silence. You felt the immediate backlash, the sharp tug as his fist clenched in your hair, yanking your head back. The sudden movement stole your breath, forcing you to meet his eyes.

He looked more alive than you'd seen him in weeks, the dull apathy that usually veiled his features replaced with a sharp, almost feral intensity. Yet, the lazy, knowing smirk that perpetually played on his lips remained, a tantalizing contrast to the hunger burning in his eyes. It was a dangerous combination, a promise of pleasure laced with pain, of control willingly surrendered and boundaries ruthlessly tested. In that moment, he looked like he could devour you whole and revel in the aftermath.

"Your pussy?" he hummed, the question laced with amusement. His gaze flickered down your body, a slow, deliberate appraisal that made your skin prickle with anticipation. "Did she miss me?"

"Yes," you confessed, the single word a testament to the ache that had consumed you during his absence.

His smirk widened, twisting into a sardonic grin that sent a shiver of apprehension down your spine. You knew that look. It meant he was ready to torment you, to play with your desires as a cat toys with a mouse. His ego was undeniably stoked by your desperation, by the knowledge that you had been counting the minutes until his return, aching for his touch. He practically lived for your vulnerability, for the power he held over you.

"Did she now…" he murmured, the words a low, possessive growl. He released your hair, bracing himself against the bed on his elbows. His chest expanded, a silent invitation, "Take my clothes off, first. We don’t need any distractions along the way, do we?”

Your hands trembled, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his uniform jacket. His eyes never left yours, pinning you beneath their intense scrutiny. Each movement felt amplified, each rustle of fabric echoing in the sudden silence that had descended upon the room. Once the jacket was off, you moved to his shirt, your ears ringing with the sound of each button being undone. The room was silent save for your harsh breathing and clumsy movement.

Caleb was clearly enjoying your distress. He remained perfectly still, comfortable in his position, his expression a mask of amused detachment. That small, teasing smile remained etched on his face, a silent challenge that dared you to break his composure. For a fleeting moment, you wanted to wipe it off, to shatter his control and unleash the beast that lurked beneath the surface.

When his shirt was finally off, revealing the sculpted lines of his muscular waist, the defined pecks and abs that rippled with every breath, his biceps on full display, you bit your lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. The sight of his body, so familiar and yet always so intoxicating, sent a wave of heat crashing through you.

His hand moved with surprising speed, his thumb pressing against your bitten lip, gently but firmly preventing you from inflicting further damage. He clicked his tongue in displeasure, the sound sharp and disapproving. "Don't bite your lips. You know I hate it when you hurt yourself."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his. You licked the blood from your lip and his finger, savoring the taste of him, the subtle hint of his skin. When he pulled away, you didn't hesitate. You went for his pants, your fingers clumsy but determined. The task proved more difficult than anticipated. His erection strained against the fabric, a thick, hard bulge that threatened to burst free. It was a miracle you didn't snag him with the zipper in your haste.

His chuckle was low and humorous, laced with a hint of smugness. "Careful, little seagull. If you want my cock, don't break it before I'm inside you."

You glared at him, your frustration momentarily eclipsing your desire. You yanked his pants open, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. He laughed again, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, helping you pull them down his strong, long legs. When they were piled on top of the other discarded clothes, you licked your lips, your gaze lingering on the outlined length beneath his underwear. A wet spot was already forming, a testament to his own arousal.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Someone definitely missed me."

Caleb breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He dropped his head backwards, his smile lazy and predatory. "Guilty," he admitted, his voice a low, husky rasp that sent shivers down your spine. Lowering his eyes back to you, he nodded towards his crotch. "Go on. Keep going. I need to see how much you want it"

The jerk was seriously enjoying this too much. You leaned over him, your breath hot against his underwear, and carefully, you pulled his briefs down. His cock sprang free, slapping against your face in its eagerness.

"Oh…" Your breath hitched, the familiar sight of his engorged shaft sending a jolt of electricity through you. You squirmed on the floor, still kneeling between his legs, your own desire intensifying with each passing second. It was already pulsing with need, pre-cum oozing from the tip like it was desperate to be inside you.

Caleb stroked your cheek, his eyes glazed with his own escalating desire. "Go on, baby."

Lifting his hips slightly, you tugged his underwear down, freeing him completely. And then, he was beautifully, gloriously naked.

Your gaze travels the length of him, lingering on the thick, throbbing veins that pulse beneath his skin. The head of his cock is slick and engorged, a testament to the raw power that lies within. He's magnificent, a sculpted masterpiece of muscle and desire, and he's all yours, at least for this moment.

He watches you, his eyes burning with an intensity that could melt steel. He’s close to the edge, you can feel it in the tremor of his hands, the raggedness of his breath. The knowledge that you hold him in this state, poised on the precipice of oblivion, is a heady rush, a potent aphrodisiac that fuels your own desire.

A slow, deliberate smile spreads across your face. "You think you're in control, don't you?" you whisper, your voice laced with a playful malice.

He doesn't answer, his gaze locked on yours, his body a taut bowstring stretched to its breaking point.

Reaching out, you grasp him firmly, your fingers encircling his shaft. He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your bones. You squeeze gently, testing his limits, and he bucks against your hand, his hips lifting off the bed.

Even that first touch was making him thicken, the slick head, full of arousal as it pulsed in your hand like it has a mind on its own.

"You’re so hard," you murmur, your voice a silken caress as you lick your lips. The sight of him, so engorged and ready for you, sends a shiver of desire coursing through your body. Your folds clench in response, aching to be filled.

And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, you climb into his lap, straddling him with a possessive hunger. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you grind against him, the friction igniting a firestorm of sensation.

"Tease," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Only because you like it," you retort, leaning down to kiss him, your lips brushing against his.

The kiss is slow, sensual, a deliberate exploration of each other's mouths. You taste his hunger, his desperation, his raw need, and it only fuels your own. You deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling in a dance of dominance and submission.

Caleb's laughter morphed into a low growl. He reached up, tangling his fingers in you hair, tugging your head back just enough to force you to meet his eyes. Those goddamn eyes. Piercing purple, they held a dangerous glint, a promise of delicious torment. "And you, pipsqueak, are a brat."

You stuck your tongue out, a childish gesture that earned you a sharp, playful slap on the ass.

"Hey!" You protested, but the sting only served to heighten the awareness already thrumming through you. Your body was a traitor, responding to his touch with an eager anticipation that bordered on embarrassing.

"You love it," Caleb murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "You love when I take control, when I remind you who's in charge." The words were laced with a possessiveness that ignited a fire deep within you.

You shivered, your nipples hardening into tight peaks under the shirt you were wearing. “Yes,” You whispered, the admission barely audible. The air between you both crackled with unspoken desires, a silent conversation of wants and needs.

Caleb’s eyes burn into yours, and you feel like he can see straight through you, right down to the core of your being. He knows exactly what you want, what you crave, what makes you tick. And he's not afraid to use it against you. Or, rather, for you.

“Then let me remind you who owns you,” he says, the words a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. It's a declaration of intent, a signal that the games are over and it's time to get down to business.

With that, his hand moves to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no doubt about his intentions. He lifts you, just slightly, guiding you, positioning you with a deliberate precision that sends a fresh wave of heat washing over you. The anticipation is almost unbearable, a delicious torture that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

You feel the tip of him against you, a spark of electricity that ignites every nerve ending in your body. He hesitates for a moment, savoring the anticipation, letting you feel the promise of what’s to come.

And then, finally, he surged forward, slamming you down on his thick cock, forcing his way through like it was nothing.

He sank inside, dragging every inch, and you were lost. Utterly, completely, irrevocably lost. There was no thought, no reason, only sensation. The feeling of him filling you, stretching you, possessing you. It was primal, visceral, and utterly intoxicating. He slid inside, bottoming out, burying himself to the hilt, making you almost gasp for breath, feeling that familiar stretch which always made you wet. It was a deep, resonant chord that vibrated through your entire being.

You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle of his back. He kissed your neck, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent shivers of pleasure cascading down your spine. He knew exactly where to touch, where to linger, where to tease. He was a maestro, conducting a symphony of sensation on your skin.

"That's it, little brat. Ride me, just like that." Each stroke was a slow burn, building the tension, tightening the coil of anticipation within you.

You did as he commanded, your body moving in time with his, your hips meeting in a slow, torturous rhythm. With each thrust, you felt him slide inside you, filling you completely. It was maddening, the way he held back, taking his time, savoring every moment. He was a sadist with a PhD in pleasure.

A familiar warmth radiates from his skin, a heat you've known for as long as you can remember. He's always been there, a constant in the ever-changing landscape of your life. He knows you, perhaps better than you know yourself.

He knows about the way you devour your food, a whirlwind of messy enthusiasm that leaves traces of your meal scattered across your face and fingers. He's seen you with chocolate smeared across your cheek, a testament to a stolen midnight snack. He remembers the endless supply of napkins he’d have to procure, a silent offering to your sweet-toothed chaos.

He's witnessed the aftermath of your showers, the trail of glistening droplets that marked your path from the bathroom to your bed. He's seen you, hair plastered to your face, completely absorbed in the glowing screen of your phone, blissfully unaware of the damp patches forming on the sheets beneath you. He'd sigh, but a fond smile would tug at his lips. He knew you. The carefree, sometimes oblivious you.

And he definitely remembers the summers, the inevitable scraped knees, and the dramatic tears that followed. The way you'd recoil at the sight of your own blood, a picture of pure, unadulterated distress. He'd be the one to clean the wound, his touch gentle and reassuring as he applied the antiseptic and bandaged you up, murmuring soothing words until your sobs subsided. He knew your vulnerabilities, your little fears, the things that made you uniquely, endearingly you.

But right now, those memories fade, replaced by the intensity of the present. Your breath hitches, a ragged gasp in the quiet room. You’re completely vulnerable, stripped bare of any pretense. You are willing, utterly and completely willing, to surrender to the sensations that flood your body. You are his to command in this intimate space.

You clench around him, your muscles contracting in rhythmic waves. You feel him harden even further, a testament to your effect on him. A moan escapes your lips, a sound that is both desperate and exquisitely pleasurable. You beg him, a whispered plea that is barely audible, but he hears it, every syllable etched into his memory.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and pleading. Your face is flushed, your lips parted, your expression a mixture of pain and ecstasy. You are dripping around him and that makes him even more crazy about you. You are beautiful, breathtakingly so, in your vulnerability.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, the way he was driving you insane with need. And yet, even as you begged him to let you come, he only chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The bastard.

"Begging already, little brat?" he taunted, his free hand moving to cup you breast under the shirt, teasing your nipple. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you come."

You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. You wanted to come so badly, but you also wanted to please him, to earn his praise. The push and pull of desire and obedience was intoxicating.

And so, you tried again, your voice pleading as you begged, "Please, Caleb. Please, let me come."

But still, he held back, his thrusts slowing down even more, the teasing becoming unbearable. He was deliberately dragging out the agony, savoring your frustration. And just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he reached for a red apple on the nightstand. An apple. Seriously? He took a bite, the juice glistening on his lips as he continued to torment you with his maddeningly slow movements. He had the audacity to make eye contact while chewing. You swear, you almost lost it right then and there.

Caleb was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and arrogant grace, and right now, he was pure, unadulterated torment. His dark eyes, usually alight with amusement, held a predatory glint as he took another deliberate bite of the crisp, red apple. The juice glistened on his lips, a stark contrast to the strained expression you had sure mirrored on your own face.

"Enjoying the view?" he drawled, his voice a low, rumbling vibration that traveled right through you, intensifying the sensations already firing in your core.

Enjoying? It was a complex cocktail of pleasure and agony. You were straddling him, naked, your thighs burning, your breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands, strong and calloused, gripped your hips, guiding your movements with ruthless precision. He was a symphony of control, and you were dancing to his tune.

"Caleb," You managed, your voice a choked whisper. "Please."

He smirked, holding the apple just out of my reach. "Please what, pretty girl? Please may I continue to admire the…scenery?" He punctuated the last word with a suggestive squeeze of your hips, making you arch your back.

He knew what you wanted. He knew exactly how close you were, how desperately you were clinging to the edge. And he was relishing every second of your struggle.

With agonizing slowness, he brought the apple to your lips, the sweet scent filling your nostrils. Your mouth watered in anticipation. Finally, a taste of something other than the burning ache that consumed you. You leaned forward, ready to sink your teeth into the crisp flesh, but at the last moment, he pulled it away.

"Almost," he whispered, his breath ghosting across your ear. "But not quite."

A frustrated groan escaped your lips. "You're a sadist," You accused, but the words lacked any real heat. You were too far gone to muster any genuine anger.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Only for you, buttercup." He took another bite of the apple, the sound amplified in the close confines of the bedroom.

The sheer audacity of it! He was eating the apple, savoring it, while you were practically begging for release. It was infuriating, and yet… a strange sort of thrill ran through you. This was Caleb. This was the man you had fallen for, the man who pushed you to your limits, who challenged you in every way imaginable.

"You know," he said, his voice laced with mock innocence, "they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Perhaps you should have one." He offered the apple again, and again, snatched it away just as you reached for it.

"Caleb, I swear…" You started, but he cut you off with another bite.

“Mmm, delicious,” he murmured, savoring the flavor. “Tart, sweet, just the right amount of crunch. Almost as delicious as… certain other things I’m experiencing right now.”

He dragged his length inside you, each thrust deliberate and deep, hitting every nerve ending with agonizing precision. His size was both a blessing and a curse, filling you completely, stretching you to your limits.

Your frustration mounted, threatening to spill over into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes betrayed him. “Perhaps I’m merely showcasing my appreciation for apples. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I thought you enjoyed a little… torture.”

He knew you too well. You did enjoy it, in a twisted sort of way. The knowledge that he held all the power, the exquisite anticipation, the feeling of being completely under his control… it was all part of the intoxicating allure of Caleb. But tonight, his teasing felt… excessive. You didn’t know if you wanted to ride him harder or smack him with that same apple he was enjoying it so much. The sadist.

“Caleb, please,” You repeated, your voice cracking. “I can’t… I’m so close.”

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Such a pretty little thing, begging for me.” He took another bite, the juice dribbling down his chin. He let it linger there for a moment, before slowly, deliberately, licking it away. The movement was obscene, provocative, designed to push you over the edge.

“Caleb!” You cried out, your voice cracking. You bucked against him, desperate for release, but he remained frustratingly still, a solid, immovable force beneath you.

He finally lowered the apple, holding it just inches from your lips. The scent was intoxicating, a sweet, tangy promise. “Open,” he commanded, his voice husky.

You obeyed instantly, your mouth parting in anticipation. He brought the apple closer, the skin brushing against your lips… and then he pulled it away, again!

Your teeth snapped shut on nothing but air, frustration bubbling up inside you like a venomous poison. He wrapped his fingers around your throat and pushed his thumb against your pulse, bending your neck back. It lifted your face up, completely under his mercy.

His smirk was wide and predatory as he resumed eating the apple himself, savoring each bite with theatrical relish. The juice dripped down his chin, a crimson trail that seemed to mock your unfulfilled desires. He was teasing you, taunting you, pushing you closer and closer to the breaking point.

"Such impatience," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "You wound me."

You glared at him, your frustration mounting by the second. "You're such a jerk," You hissed, but the words were half-hearted, your anger quickly turning to desire as you watched him eat the apple, his eyes never leaving yours. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you. Temptation, forbidden fruit…he knew exactly what buttons to push.

The apple scent fills the small space between you, a sweet, tart aroma contrasting sharply with the musk of your exertion. He's savoring it, each bite deliberate, his dark eyes hooded as he watches you. You're catching your breath, trying to regain some semblance of control after… well, after everything.

His gaze flickers down, amusement dancing in their depths, and you groan. What now? You’re already a mess, pleasantly exhausted and decidedly undone. Surely he can't be thinking of continuing this particular brand of delightful torture.

Then you see it. His black phone, sleek and modern against the rumpled, fresh cotton of his bedsheets. He picks it up with the same hand he's using to hold the apple, somehow managing to balance both. You watch, confused. Too much already, too much sensation, for any more of his nonsense.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice still thick with pleasure and just a hint of irritation.

His smirk is evident, even in the dim light filtering through the curtains. He angles the phone so its back is facing you, the red apple charm dangling from the side, mocking you with its innocent sweetness. It swings gently, a tiny pendulum counting down the seconds until… what exactly? You’re not sure, but you know, instinctively, that it won’t be boring.

"Keep riding me, pipsqueak," he says, his voice low and laced with teasing. "You look too pretty not to take a picture.”

Your cheeks flush. "Don't you dare," you manage, but the words lack conviction. You know he will. And a part of you, the part that's still humming from the aftershocks of his touch, wants him to.

Just then, he thrusts up, his cock grazing your stomach, hitting that precise spot that sends shivers down your spine. You yelp, a small, involuntary sound of pure feeling, and in that very moment, he captures it. The flash illuminates the room for a fraction of a second, freezing your expression in time. You’re sure you look ridiculous – mouth slightly open, eyes wide and glassy, a sheen of perspiration on your skin.

He doesn’t stop there. He takes more pictures, experimenting with angles and lighting, capturing every detail of your flushed and vulnerable state. You want to protest, to grab the phone and delete the evidence, but you're also completely captivated, paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze and the lingering sensations rippling through you. You roll your eyes back when he pulses inside you, twitching like he would cum inside any time soon. It triggered an orgasm in you which wanted to be let free but still he forced it back.

“Caleb…please…” You beg, desperate for a release. Anything to stop this torture.

“Yeah...that's it. Beg me. Fucked stupid on my cock. Seeing you so desperate for me...Fuck...baby," Caleb groans at your debauched state, grinding his hips, his phone almost slipping from his fingers but he uses his evol to keep steady.

Finally, satisfied with his impromptu photoshoot, he tosses the phone onto the bed, the soft thud barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He turns his attention back to you, the apple still clutched in his hand.

When you whimpered, seeking fraction, Caleb just laughed, a low, seductive sound. He tossed the apple core aside, his hand moving to hold your hips steady as he finally took control, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, driving you wild with need.

You closed your eyes, fighting back tears. He was toying with you, pushing you to your limit, and the realization was both humiliating and… exciting. You hated him for it, and yet, you loved him for it too.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice softening slightly.

You reluctantly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The amusement was still there, but there was something else too, something akin to tenderness.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek. “So beautifully desperate. Show me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Ride for me, baby."

And you did. You rode him until your muscles screamed, until your lungs burned, until your vision blurred. Each thrust was deeper, harder, more insistent than the last. You could feel him, all of him, and the sensations were almost overwhelming.

You clenched around him, tighter and tighter, trying to pull him over the edge with you. You could feel the tension building in his muscles, the accelerated rhythm of his breathing.

"You're killing me," he groaned, but there was no complaint in his voice. Only raw, unadulterated pleasure,” So tight,” he groaned, his voice laced with desperation. “So fucking wet for me.”

He started to buck beneath you, his movements growing more frantic. Each slap of skin echoed in the room.

"Caleb," You gasped, your body convulsing. "I'm going to…"

He cut you off with a guttural roar as he reached his own climax. His body went rigid, his muscles contracting violently. He surged deep inside you, pumping furiously into you and you cried out as the wave of pleasure washed over you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He held you there, gasping for breath, his heart pounding against you ear. And then, just when you thought the moment couldn't get any more perfect, he tightened his grip around at the back of your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know who was in control. A primal growl rumbled in his chest as he came, abs clenching as rope after rope of his cum flooded your pussy, the sound, the feeling of its warmth sending shivers down your spine.

His shaft throbs painfully inside your used hole, pumping the last hot load deep inside, your mind drunk on him as you start to drool with your lips parted, too stimulated to even make a sound.

You come at least two times, the feeling of being so full triggered your orgasms without a warning.

You clung to him, your body trembling, completely spent. The world seemed to spin around you, the only constant the feel of his strong arms holding you close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his breathing began to slow. He loosened his grip slightly, but he didn't let you go. His hand remained firmly planted on the small of your back, possessive and grounding.

You could still feel the faint tremors running through his body, the lingering aftershocks of the storm you had weathered together. He was still pulsing, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside your pussy, each twitch sending a fresh wave of sensation through your exhausted body.

Time seemed to warp and bend, stretching into an eternity of shared breaths and whispered sighs. Finally, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he shifted, his muscles coiling with renewed strength. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to reawaken every nerve ending in your body. He pulled your hips up, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of awareness through your exhausted body. The friction was exquisite, a burning reminder of the pleasure you had just experienced, and the potential for more that still lingered between you.

Then he slipped out, the loss sudden and sharp. The heat that had been contained within you dissipated, leaving a void, a feeling of vulnerability that made you instinctively tighten your muscles. Your spent leaked out, a slick, glistening testament to the raw intensity of your passion, a visible manifestation of the pleasure you had just shared.

He shifted you slightly, just enough so he could observe you. "Look at that mess," he smirked, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your veins despite your depleted state.

Nestled in his lap, you couldn't deny the tableau before you. His abdomen and the length of his partially erect cock were slick with your essence, a glistening testament to your shared passion. The sight was both explicit and undeniably arousing, a stark display of your complete surrender and his unyielding power.

A blush crept up your neck, a complex blend of embarrassment and a defiant sense of pride.

Pulling you closer to his chest, he nuzzled his face into you hair, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "Well, that was… fruitful."

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. Even now, even after all that, he had the nerve to mention that. His obsession with apples were maddening sometimes.

"You're impossible," You mumbled, your throat dry.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "But you love it."

He knew you too well. You did love it. You loved the teasing, the torment, the intensity. You loved the way he pushed you to your limits, the way he made you feel alive.

He pulled back slightly, his purple eyes sparkling with amusement, less intense.

“Speaking of fruit, I believe I promised you an apple pie. Perhaps we should get started on that?”

You swear, the man has no sense of timing. Like, seriously? Apple pie? After the apple-as foreplay stunt he just pulled? You glared at him, trying to summon up some semblance of indignation, but all that came out was a breathless giggle.

Caleb was an amazing cook. It was a fact known and revered by all who had the good fortune to taste his creations. His apple pie was legendary, a masterpiece of flaky crust, cinnamon-spiced apples, and buttery goodness. The same went for his chicken wings, a fiery, flavorful explosion that could reduce grown men to whimpering, grateful wrecks. And despite everything, despite the teasing, the torment, the sheer exasperation he often inspired, you knew in your heart that he would make you the best damn apple pie you had ever tasted. He poured his heart into everything he did, and you knew that even something as simple as baking a pie was, in his own way, an act of love for you.

"You're serious?" you asked, your voice still shaky with a mixture of arousal and amusement. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. "Although, I might need your… assistance. Someone has to peel the apples, after all."

You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. He was infuriating, maddening, and utterly irresistible. He had a way of pushing your buttons, of challenging you, of making you laugh even when you wanted to strangle him. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way. He was your chaos, your comfort, your perfectly imperfect partner in crime.

"Fine," you said, leaning down to kiss him softly, a lingering, playful brush of your lips against his. "But you're doing the dishes."

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that resonated through your body as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. "It’s not like you would do them anyway. You know that you like to use me any chance you can get.”

You pouted, feigning hurt with an exaggerated frown. "That's not true! I can do house chores any time I get free time." You knew it was a flimsy argument, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control in a situation where you were happily, hopelessly outmatched.

Caleb shook his head, his eyes filled with affection. “And you still like to slack off and it ends with me spoiling you rotten, little brat.” He pinched your cheek playfully, his touch gentle and teasing.

You playfully pushed him, your laughter bubbling up again. “And you still do it.” You knew he enjoyed taking care of you, spoiling you with small gestures and acts of service. It was his love language, and you were fluent.

He kissed your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. The scent of his skin, a musky blend of sweat and apples, filled your senses. “That’s because you’re my princess, Miss Apple.”

[inseobts]

Omg I absolutely adore your Law fics!! I’d love to read about a fake dating scenario between a Strawhat reader and Law in Wano like you did with Zoro. He’d be such a cutie 🥰

Thank you 🙏

Undercover Affection

law x strawhat!reader

a/n: omg I was so excited to write this aknakjd it doesn't really follow the canon events tho

words count: 5.1k

tags: fake dating, fake marriage, teasing, wano arc

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You and Trafalgar D. Water Law, notorious pirate and doctor, stand side by side in the bustling marketplace, trying to blend in as a newlywed couple. Law, wearing his usual stoic expression, is clearly out of his element, while you can’t help but smile at how ridiculous the whole situation is.

"Stop grinning like that" he mutters, adjusting the fake wedding ring you insisted on putting on his finger. He glares at you, but you only giggle louder.

"Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got to make it convincing" you tease, leaning closer to him with exaggerated affection. His irritation is almost palpable.

"I don't need you hanging off me like that. We're here for a mission, not for you to play around." His voice is calm, but the faint redness creeping up his neck betrays him.

You smirk, knowing exactly how much it bothers him "But I love how grumpy you get when I do this. It’s like a whole new side of you."

You look at him with playful eyes, wrapping your arm around his, deliberately snuggling closer, and watching the slight twitch in his jaw.

"You're insufferable" he grumbles, but you can tell from the way his eyes flicker to yours that he's secretly enjoying it. Even if he won't admit it, you know this act is something he didn’t expect and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

You wink at him “You know, you’re really cute when you’re angry.”

Law scoffs but the tips of his ears go red, which only makes you smirk wider.

The two of you continue to walk through the crowded streets of Wano, and the people around you don't seem to pay much attention, at least not to Law. But you, on the other hand, draw plenty of stares. It's almost laughable how you're both playing the part of a loving couple so well. You’re sure the act would’ve made some people second-guess themselves, if not for your obvious affection for Law.

“Do you really have to hold my hand like this?” Law mutters, trying to keep his face neutral. His tone is deadpan, but his hand doesn't pull away, even though he clearly wants to.

“Yes, I do. It’s important for the cover, we're married, remember?” You tighten your grip slightly, watching him try his hardest to stay composed, and you can’t help but relish in how embarrassed he looks.

“...I’m going to regret this” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible.

“No, you won’t,” you say sweetly, squeezing his hand with a grin “You like it.”

Law doesn’t say anything for a moment. His face remains impassive, but you can see the little vein in his forehead twitching. It’s clear that he’s not nearly as indifferent as he’s trying to make himself seem.

Before he can retort, you pull his arm, dragging him towards a stand with fresh produce "Look! They have strawberries!!"

You start picking up the plump, red fruit, inspecting it with exaggerated curiosity. Law watches you, his arms crossed, a frown on his face.

"You’re acting like a child," he observes dryly, clearly disinterested. But you know he’s watching, and deep down, you know that he’s silently amused.

“You’re just mad because I’m having fun. Don’t worry, I'll buy you some too” you say, but the moment you say it, you know he’ll probably refuse it.

Law doesn't respond, but you catch the tiniest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, just for a moment. His mouth tightens, but it’s not out of frustration anymore. It’s something else, something softer, though he’d never admit it.

You turn to him and offer one of the strawberries "Want one? You might smile for once."

He takes the strawberry reluctantly, muttering under his breath, "You're impossible" but you can see the corners of his mouth twitch, as if the smallest hint of a smile might want to escape.

The night comes, and you’re both sitting around a small campfire outside of town, eating a simple meal. Law’s still in his pirate garb, but you’ve managed to dress him up in something a little more traditional, at least in a way that blends with the locals. He looks even more irritated now that he’s out of his comfort zone, but you can’t help but stare at him.

"You know, you really should smile more," you say casually, picking at the food in front of you "You’d be less grumpy."

Law shoots you a glare, his gaze cold but somehow fond "I don’t need to smile."

“You say that, but you do smile sometimes, even when you don’t mean to,” you tease, leaning your head on your hand "Like when you're all annoyed. It’s cute."

His eyebrow twitches, and you immediately know you’ve hit a nerve.

"I do not get 'annoyed'," he hisses "I’m just... trying to survive being stuck here."

“Oh sure, but I’ve noticed something,” you say, leaning in with a smirk “Every time I annoy you, you get this cute little angry face. It’s the best part of the day.”

Law scowls harder, trying to maintain his composure, but you can see the way his face softens ever so slightly, as if he’s secretly enjoying your teasing.

“I’m not cute” he mutters, but his voice lacks its usual edge.

“Oh, trust me, you’re definitely cute. Especially when you try to hide it” you say, reaching over to poke his cheek, making him flinch.

“Don’t touch me” he warns, his patience thinning, but there's no real heat behind it.

You pull your hand back with a grin, trying to hide your glee “I bet I can get you to smile before this mission is over.”

“You won’t" he says, though there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You wink at him “Wanna bet?”

Law looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. But you both know it’s a challenge he’s already lost.

The next morning, the Heart Pirates gather. You and Law make your way back after a quick stop in the town. You’re both still playing the role of a happily married couple, though your grin and the slight blush on Law’s face tell a different story.

"Morning, you two" Bepo greets with a wave as you approach the group. He gives you both a curious glance but doesn’t comment right away. You notice his ears twitch slightly, as if he’s trying to figure something out.

"Morning" you reply sweetly, wrapping your arm around Law's waist. You can’t resist leaning into him just a little, making sure everyone notices.

Shachi and Penguin, standing nearby, exchange a quick look.

Law doesn't want to draw attention to it, but he's well aware of the curious stares from his crew.

"What's going on between you two?" Penguin asks, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow "I thought we were supposed to be working undercover, not pretending to be... a couple." He says "couple" with exaggerated air quotes, making sure the whole group hears it.

You giggle, looking up at Law "Oh, we are, don't worry. Usopp said we should go undercover as a freshly married couple, right, honey?" you say, dragging out the last word with far too much affection, but you actually did it to tease him. In facts, Law’s face tenses, and you can almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Bepo looks between the two of you, his expression softer than the others "You’re really convincing" he says, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. He clearly doesn’t quite understand the situation but seems to be happy for you, or at least trying to be supportive.

“You’re making him uncomfortable, y/n” Shachi teases, nudging you playfully.

“Well, it's a fake marriage after all” you reply with a grin “If he likes it or not we have to make it seem real, especially because we almost got caught”

Law huffs, crossing his arms tightly “We’re not really married. It’s a cover for the mission. And you...” He points at Shachi, who seems way too entertained by the situation “...don’t have to comment on it.”

"Sure, sure, but tell me this," Shachi continues, leaning in as though he's unraveling a great mystery "How come every time I look over, you're so close? So touchy-feely for just a mission. There’s gotta be something going on.”

Penguin snickers in the background, enjoying the show “Shachi might be onto something, Law. You sure you’re not falling for y/n?”

You wink at Law, watching his patience fray a little more “Oh, I think he’s already there” you say, making sure to be extra teasing.

Law narrows his eyes, clearly not thrilled at the idea of his crew picking up on this “I am not! Stop messing around, all of you. We have more important things to focus on.”

But you can tell that beneath the irritation, there’s a hint of something else, embarrassment? Maybe even… a little fondness?

“I’m just saying,” Bepo starts, his voice soft but sincere “you two look so natural together. It’s kind of adorable.”

Your eyes soften, and you offer Bepo a warm smile "I’m glad someone sees it that way," you reply, winking at Law again. He’s practically fuming now, but there's a twinkle in his eyes that he’s not quite able to hide.

“Adorable?” Law scoffs, his face now an unmistakable shade of red “I swear, you’re all insane.” He glares at his crew, but even the glare doesn't hide how his heart's racing just a little.

Later that evening, as you and Law sit around the campfire again, this time with the rest of the Heart Pirates on watch duty, the teasing continues, though now it’s less playful and more knowing. Everyone’s fully aware that something’s up between you two, and it’s clear that you’ve been having a lot of fun with the idea.

“Alright, alright, let’s just get this out of the way," Shachi starts, taking a seat beside you and leaning in conspiratorially "Who fell first?”

Law doesn’t even look at you, but you can feel his discomfort radiating “We’re not doing this” he mutters with an exasperated sigh.

But the teasing continues, the Heart Pirates are all looking at you two with amusement in their eyes. Bepo and Penguin are now watching you closely, seemingly trying to pick up on every little interaction, while Shachi just can’t stop himself from pressing the issue.

“You two are definitely more than just a cover story,” Shachi says, grinning from ear to ear “You’re always so close, so... affectionate.”

“Yeah!” Penguin chimes in, clearly enjoying the drama “It’s like you guys are really a thing.”

Law remains silent for a few beats, his jaw clenched, clearly holding his frustration in check. But you notice the tightening of his fists and the way his eyes flicker with irritation.

You glance over at him, but before you can even tease him again, you notice his patience clearly running out “That’s enough” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

The whole group falls quiet, the sudden intensity of his voice making them look at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t like this attention, alright?” Law’s voice is colder now, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something harder, something… serious. His gaze shifts to you, and you’re caught off guard by how harsh his words are “I don’t like you hanging off me all the time, I don’t like being treated like your husband, and I don’t like you constantly teasing me. We’re not a couple, y/n. We’re not even close enough for you to call me your friend, let alone you husband...”

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. His face is set in a frown, his usual stoic expression replaced by something colder, more distant. You feel a pang in your chest, your heart sinking at how genuine he seems.

The rest of the crew falls silent, unsure of what to say.

You take a step back, your arm slipping as you pull away. Your eyes flicker down to the ground, trying to hide the hurt that's suddenly swelling inside you.

You’re not sure why, but the way he said it, so blunt, so final, makes you believe him. Maybe you had been too forward. Maybe you pushed him too far, even if you were just jocking around.

You try to force a smile, but it feels weak, forced "Right," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel this uncomfortable."

Law doesn’t respond, too focused on his crew and the way they’re looking at him. The awkward silence stretches, and you find yourself drifting further away. You can’t bring yourself to joke anymore, to tease him as you had before. The sting of his words cuts deeper than you want to admit.

The rest of the evening goes by in an uncomfortable silence. You eat your meal, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Law, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him for long. Every time you do, you feel the weight of his words echoing in your mind.

The next few days feel... different. You’ve stopped teasing him, stopped getting close like you used to. Whenever you have to interact, you’re careful to keep your distance, avoiding any unnecessary physical contact. You act as professional as possible, keeping the focus entirely on the mission.

It doesn’t escape the Heart Pirates’ notice, though. They watch as the dynamics between you and Law change. You’re not the playful couple anymore. Instead, you seem more distant, more reserved—especially around Law.

Shachi notices first "Hey, y/n, everything okay?" he asks one morning as you sit near the ship’s edge, watching the horizon. He knows something’s off, and though he doesn’t want to pry, he can’t help but ask.

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

Bepo, who’s been quietly observing, speaks up hesitantly “You haven’t been... teasing him anymore. Are you two—”

“We’re fine,” you interrupt quickly, too quickly. You don’t want to explain. You don’t even know what to say "Just focusing on the mission, as it should have been from the very start"

The conversation ends there, but you can feel the weight of their concern. They’re noticing the shift, the sudden distance between you and Law. But none of them, especially not Law, know how to fix it.

Days pass in Wano, and you continue to keep your distance from Law, though the tension between the two of you feels thicker than ever. Every time you’re near him, the awkwardness is palpable. But something else is happening in the background.

The Strawhats are back in Wano. After all the time you’ve spent apart.

It’s in the middle of a bustling market square, where you and Law are walking around trying to gather some supplies for the mission, when you spot them. You freeze, your heart racing. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on Sanji.

Without thinking, you let everything fall from your hands and sprint toward him. Sanji’s back is turned, so he doesn’t see you coming until it’s too late. You throw yourself into his arms with tears in your eyes, overwhelmed with relief.

“Sanji!” you exclaim, your voice muffled against his chest as you cling to him.

Sanji’s eyes widen in surprise, but then he smiles softly, his arms wrapping around you “Hey there, y/n” he says, his tone warm “It’s been a while, huh?”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand “I’ve missed you so much” you admit softly.

Sanji raises an eyebrow, but his smile softens “It’s good to see you too. Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind, though. You okay?”

You hesitate for a moment, then give a small nod “Yeah... I’m fine now. I just... I’ve been through some stuff. But I’m glad you’re here.”

Law watched everything, staying back. As soon as he saw you hugging the cook, he took everything you dropped and left you alone with them, even because it looks like you forgot about him.

The next day, you find yourself meeting up with Sanji at his little noodle shop. You’ve told him everything, how you and Law have been pretending to be a married couple, how your feelings have gotten tangled up, and how, after Law’s harsh words, you’ve pulled away to keep things professional. You tell him about the emotional distance between you and Law, and the complicated feelings you’re dealing with.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you admit, your hands twisting nervously in your lap “I feel like I’m losing him. He doesn’t want me around, and it’s driving me crazy. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sanji’s expression softens as he listens to you, his gaze gentle

“I thought it was just supposed to be a cover” you murmur, “but somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like one. And now... now it feels like everything’s falling apart.” You pause, looking down “I think I care about him more than I thought I did.”

Sanji reaches out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze “You’ve got a good heart, y/n. And I know Law is a complicated guy. But if you care about him, you need to figure out what you want. You’re not just a cover story, okay?”

You meet his gaze, feeling a sense of clarity you hadn’t realized you were missing “You’re right. I just wish I knew how to fix it.”

Sanji leans in, his voice dropping lower “It’s okay to take things slow. And if you want to... maybe you could start by not hiding from him anymore.”

Before you can respond, you both hear some footsteps approaching. You quickly stand up and walk away from the alley, but you notice people beginning to gossip behind you.

“You heard about y/n and her husband, right?” one woman whispers to her friend.

“Yeah, I heard she’s been cheating on him with that blonde guy. Can you believe that? I mean, the nerve!” another woman replies, her voice dripping with gossip.

The words hit you like a punch in the gut. You feel your face flush with embarrassment and frustration. Cheating? How did they come up with that?

You try to ignore it, but it’s hard. The whispers follow you as you walk back to the group, and you can feel the sting of their words deep in your chest.

Later that evening, as you rejoin Law and the rest of the crew, you notice his usual cold demeanor has shifted. He’s standing by the fire, his back to you, as if he’s been waiting for you. When you approach, he doesn’t immediately acknowledge you.

"Are you... okay?" you ask softly, but you can see the frustration in his posture. He doesn’t respond immediately, but his jaw tightens.

“I don’t appreciate people talking about my personal life like that, true or not...” Law says, his voice low and clipped “You’ve been avoiding me for days, and now I hear rumors? What’s going on?”

Your stomach twists in knots “Law...”

“I don't care about you and the blondie but...” he cuts you off, his gaze icy “I can’t focus when people are talking about me like that, especially if we're supposed to be undercover here.”

You feel your throat tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s frustrated, and his anger makes your heart ache “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you know Sanji is my friend, people just don't know the truth and make things up” you admit, your voice shaky.

Law sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking as if he’s about to snap “Then stop avoiding me. We’re in this together, but if you keep pushing me away, I’m not sure what we’re doing anymore... we can't bring so much attention on us.”

The atmosphere between you and Law is still tense. You don’t want things to spiral even further, so you suggest an idea, something that might distract from the tension and let everyone cool off for a while.

"Why don’t we go grab some food?" you suggest, your voice a little hesitant but hopeful.

Law turns to you, his expression neutral “You think food is going to help?”

You shrug, trying to lighten the mood "Maybe. Besides, I’ve been hearing about this noodle shop... the chef is called Sanji, I think?... I’ve heard it’s good..."

Law’s brows furrow, but his interest is piqued "Sanji? You think going right to him won't worsen things?"

You nod "Maybe if people see us all together, as three good friends, they're going to stop talk about me cheating..."

He looks at you for a moment, then sighs, clearly not wanting to be left alone with his thoughts any longer "Fine. Let’s go."

The small noodle spot is tucked away in a corner of Wano, busy and filled with the warmth of the cooking. When you and Law arrive, you’re greeted immediately by Sanji’s bright smile, but there’s something in his eyes that softens when he sees you. He’s not as flirtatious as usual, and there’s a sharpness in his gaze as he sees the tension between you and Law.

"Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous 'married couple'" Sanji says, his voice light, though there’s an edge to it now.

You try to smooth things over, grinning at him “Yeah, we’re here to eat...”

It’s time to kill the rumors.

“We’ll sit over here,” you say quickly, guiding Law to a seat “Make it clear to everyone that we’re... still a team.”

Law sits down stiffly, clearly not thrilled, but it’s obvious he’s playing along. He keeps his eyes ahead, refusing to acknowledge Sanji’s deliberate coldness toward him.

Sanji brings over bowls of noodles with flair, but his attitude towards Law remains distant, even a little antagonistic. He makes sure to place the food right in front of you, offering a special smile "Just for you, y/n. A little something extra special, like always."

He looks at you, and his smile softens just a bit. But when his eyes flick to Law, the warmth vanishes, and the tension in the room grows thicker.

Law doesn’t react right away, but you can feel the change in him. His jaw tightens, his body language growing even more tense than it was before. He clenches his fist under the table, clearly irritated.

"Stop playing games," Law mutters, his voice low and tight with barely contained frustration "Just serve the food and stop making this weird."

Sanji, clearly not intimidated, shrugs "If you don’t like how things are going, maybe you should take a look at how you’re treating her. It’s obvious you’ve got no control over the situation"

You flinch at the words, but Sanji’s eyes flicker to you in a way that makes you feel a bit guilty. You didn’t want this to turn into some kind of game, but now, it’s getting harder to keep things under wraps.

You look at Law, hoping to redirect the conversation "Let’s just eat," you say, trying to keep things casual "We need to look like a normal couple to the town. We don’t want any more rumors."

Law gives you a long, searching look before nodding "Fine. But we’re done with the theatrics, understood?"

As the meal progresses, the silence between you, Sanji, and Law grows thicker. The tension is almost unbearable, but it’s working, people around are starting to get the message. Law and you are a team, no matter the rumors, and the gossip about you "cheating" slowly starts to fade as the focus shifts to you two sitting together.

Sanji seems to settle into his role. He occasionally glances at you, making sure you’re taken care of, but the icy distance he’s putting between himself and Law is unmistakable. Law notices it too, and while he’s trying to keep his cool, it’s clear it’s starting to get under his skin.

Finally, Sanji returns to the counter, his back turned, leaving you and Law in silence. It’s the perfect opportunity to clear the air, but neither of you speaks.

You glance at Law, noticing the frustration in his eyes. He doesn’t like this. Doesn’t like the way Sanji is treating you, doesn’t like the way he’s feeling about the whole situation.

You try to lighten the mood, but it’s hard to ignore the tightness in his shoulders "You know, we’re supposed to be a married couple, not a couple of kids at a playground."

Law narrows his eyes at you "I didn’t sign up for this. The mission’s getting complicated."

You try to ignore the tug in your chest, a bit of confusion creeping in "It’s just a cover, Law. Nothing’s changed. We’re just doing what we need to do."

But the words hang there, and even though you say them, you know that things aren’t so simple anymore. You feel it, and you know Law does too.

As you leave the shop together, the streets of Wano no longer seem as welcoming as before. The weight of the situation presses down on you, and Law’s behavior is starting to affect you in ways you didn’t expect. You can’t figure out if it’s the mission weighing on him, or if it’s something more.

After the meal at Sanji’s, the rumors finally start dying down, but the damage between you and Law lingers. The tension is unbearable, Law barely looks at you, and you, still hurt from his earlier words, keep your distance.

Sanji notices. The crew notices. Even the damn town notices.

One evening, as you sit outside the inn you and Law have been staying at for your undercover mission, you overhear some locals whispering.

“They say that woman is still in love with her husband, but he doesn’t care for her.” “Shame. She looks miserable.” “She was always all so cute and clingy to him but she stopped entirely, he must’ve pushed her away.”

You clench your fists. It’s one thing to suffer in silence, but another to hear strangers pitying you.

Law suddenly walks past you, pausing for a second before speaking, “Go inside.” His voice is firm but quiet.

You don’t move “Why do you care?” you murmur, not looking at him “You made it clear I was just a nuisance to you and it's just a mission, which is almost over anyway given Zoro and Luffy are making trubles after trubles...”

Law exhales sharply “I never—” He stops, frustrated, before running a hand down his face “Listen, I was trying to stop myself from—” He cuts himself off again, jaw clenched.

You finally turn to him “From what?”

His silence is enough of an answer.

Your heart clenches, but you shake your head “You don’t have to force yourself to tolerate me anymore, Law. We’ll finish the mission, and after that—”

“Enough,” he snaps, suddenly grabbing your wrist. His grip is firm but not painful, just desperate “You don’t get to decide that.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls you toward him, his voice low but intense “I was a damn coward,” he mutters “You—you were always in my space, always teasing me, and I—” He exhales sharply “I pushed you away because I—”

You hold your breath.

“I fell for you” Law finally admits, looking at you with something raw and vulnerable in his gaze “I fell so hard, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Your heart nearly stops.

“You what?”

He groans, looking away “I can’t stand you ignoring me. I can’t stand watching you with Sanji, even though I know it’s nothing. And I hate that I made you think I didn’t care.”

The words hit you like a storm, leaving you speechless. He looks genuinely frustrated, at himself.

You swallow hard before whispering, “So what do we do now?”

Law looks at you, his grip tightening slightly “You tell me,” he murmurs, voice quieter now “Because if you still want me, then I—” He hesitates, then sighs “I don’t want this to be fake anymore.”

Your breath hitches.

For the first time in weeks, you grin “I mean... I think it's too soon to talk about marriage, isn't it?”

Law groans, rolling his eyes “Unbelievable.”

You laugh, and before you can stop yourself, you tug him down into a kiss.

And just like that, the mission doesn’t feel so complicated anymore.

Back on the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates immediately notice the change.

Law still wears his usual scowl, still grumbles under his breath whenever you tease him, but there’s no real bite behind his words anymore. The biggest difference? He lets you get away with it.

You lean against his side as he studies a map, chin resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you off like he used to, he just sighs heavily, pretending to ignore you.

“Oi, captain,” Shachi calls out, smirking “Didn’t you say you hated being touched?”

Penguin snickers “Yeah, man, what happened to all that complaining? Because right now, it looks like you like it.”

Law doesn’t even look up, but you can see the way his jaw tightens, the tips of his ears turning pink “Shut up” he mutters, flipping a page of the map aggressively.

“Oh, come on, it’s adorable,” Bepo chimes in, tail wagging “You used to be all grumpy whenever she clung to you, and now you just accept it?”

You grin, tilting your head up to look at him “Aww, so you do like my attention.”

His eye twitches “I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t deny it.”

Shachi and Penguin lose it, laughing while Bepo beams like a proud parent.

Law exhales through his nose, rubbing his temples. But despite the grumbling, he doesn’t move you away. And that’s when it clicks.

Shachi leans back, crossing his arms “Y’know, I think we all got it wrong before.”

Penguin nods, smirking “Yeah. We thought y/n was the lost cause, but—”

They both turn to Law, who immediately tenses, as if he knows what’s coming.

“You actually fell harder.”

The room falls silent.

You blink up at him, waiting for his reaction.

Law glares at his crew, looking about two seconds away from using Room just to teleport them out of his sight. But instead, he lets out a sharp exhale, shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he just mutters “Unbelievable.”

You beam and press a quick kiss to his cheek, watching as his face turns bright red.

Yeah. Maybe being undercover in Wano wasn’t such a disaster after all.

[kissktten]

itoshi rin

rin loves his cutesy girlfriend.

you’re just so adorable!! your hand clasping his, tugging him along as you practically bounce with each step you take. rin promised to come with you to the store— so, here he is, trailing behind his petty girlfriend as she smiles so brightly.

it’s almost laughable, really. a tall, stoic soccer player and probably the girliest girl around. and if rin’s being honest, he loves it!

he’s more than happy to kneel down in the middle of the street, slim hands reaching to adjust the cute frills of your socks before redoing the buckles on your adorable little mary janes.

and rin definitely doesn’t mind holding all your bags, shaking his head at you and insisting it’s fine, and that he can hold them, when you try and tell him you can carry them yourself.

rin has also become your backup whenever you’re at stores.

“i had it first!” some lady shouts at you, her ugly nose scrunching as her hands curls into a fist. “give it back!”

you can tell that she’s only so territorial over the dress because she wants to sell it for triple the price on one of those dumb websites.

“i was literally holding it and you tried to snatch it away from me.” you deadpan, looking back at the woman with an unamused expression. like a cute little copy of rin, if you look close enough.

“liar!” she shrieks in that annoyingly loud voice of hers, and her bony hand curls into a fist— is she going to . . . ?

too bad for her, you have a boyfriend that is definitely not going to let his girlfriend get punched over a damn dress.

his hand grabs her wrist, and the glare he sends to her speaks volumes. guess she didn’t need the dress that much anyways, because she’s quick to scramble away— leaving you, and rin, victorious.

when you get home, rin’s feeling almost excited to watch your little fashion show. it’s a tradition the two of you have— after every single shopping trip, you need to put on everything you get and show off a little.

rin loves it. he loves you.

“very cute, baby.” he’d say, a hand lifting up to adjust the frills of your new skirt. “the colour is nice. a new shade of pink?”

he’s become surprisingly good with colours. at the start of your relationship, it didn’t matter to him— pink was pink and white was white. but now, he’s able to notice even the smallest changes of shades. you’ve trained him well !

rin has also just resigned himself to becoming your personal accessory tester.

“awe, you look so handsome!” you coo, fixing one of the many bows you had clipped into his soft hair. “my little princess.”

yes, in this relationship rin is the princess. the pretty princess, actually.

“thank you, lovely.” he hums, hands gently smoothing over the fabric of your pants. you’re staying at home today, so you haven’t changed pyjamas yet— but you still just look so cute!

of course, rin always has to match with you. wearing cute little pyjamas with paw prints everywhere, the light pink all pretty and cute and so very out of place for a man like rin.

masterlist.

note: i’d like to write more of rin x his cutesy pretty girlfriend . . . should iiiiii???

[theemporium]

a luke blurb where him and his gf don't show much pda but quin and jack accidentally walk in on them making out? i feel like it would be really funny

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You and Luke were never big on PDA. 

It wasn’t a conscious choice either of you really made. Truth being told, you never really noticed how ‘un-coupley’ the two of you acted until a friend had pointed it out to you somewhere in the first few weeks of college when they were shocked to learn that you and Luke were a couple. 

But it never bothered you. It wasn’t a big surprise considering the evolution of your relationship with Luke was something that changed gradually over time. You had been attached by the hip since day one, each other’s best friend for as long as anyone could remember. You were always together, always found together, would always be together. There was no one in this world that you would consider your bestest friend over Luke Hughes.

It just so happened that somewhere between the years of high school, that friendship evolved into something a little less platonic. But he was still your best friend. He would always be your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Neither of you acted differently after you got together because nothing in the relationship had really changed after the two of you confessed that night, except for the fact you just happened to make out with him as much as you laughed at the stupid jokes he told.

So even though you and Luke had been together as a couple for the better part of six years, you never really acted like one in front of people. 

Which is why Jack and Quinn tended to be so dramatic whenever the two of you did anything remotely coupley. 

“Did you put sunscreen on today?” 

Luke paused, pulling back and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at you with an incredulous look. “Why the hell are you thinking about sunscreen whilst making out with me?” 

“Because your skin feels really warm,” you retorted, unbothered by the way his lip jutted out with a small pout as you poked the reddening skin on his shoulder. The hiss he let out instantly made you snort. “Fucking knew it.”

“You were hogging the bottle,” Luke retorted, smacking your hand away when you tried to poke him again before it returned to its rightful place on your ass. 

“No, you were more focused on putting sunscreen on me to remember yourself,” you corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, well, you whine so much when you’re sunburnt,” Luke huffed, laughing a little when you lightly smacked his chest. “Kidding, babe, love you.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his and letting out a content noise as he squeezed your ass, pulling you further onto his lap before he pushed his tongue into your mouth and—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES! MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Luke let out a heavy sigh, his head falling against your shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking time.” 

“Gross, guys,” Quinn frowned at the sight of you two on the sunlounger whilst Jack dramatically continued to gag behind him. “So gross.” 

“What happened to the two of you doing a grocery run in the town?” You questioned, making no move to shift off your boyfriend’s lap, though his hands moved to rest on your waist now. 

“We did it and came back already to find you—” Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest as he shuddered. “Defiling the furniture.” 

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled.

You snorted. “As if you didn’t do much worse three summers ago when I saw you and that girl on the boat—” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “LALALA! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT!” 

Quinn whirled around to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck did you do on the boat?” 

Luke grinned, turning to look at you as his brothers continued to bicker in the background. “It’s kinda hot when you blackmail people.” 

You grinned back. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “Wanna show me how hot? Preferably in a room with a lock so we don’t have to repeat of the other day.” 

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Quinn should learn to knock. That is not our fault.”

.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍɪᴛʜꜱ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘢

fluff, kissing, tiktok trend, established relationship, soft!matt but he won't admit it, goofy, idiots in love

requested by @applecidersturniolo !

word count - 700ish

You’re sitting cross-legged on Matt’s bed, holding your phone up for him to see. He’s half-sprawled out next to you, scrolling through his own phone like he’s not that interested, but you can tell he is.

“Do you wanna do this trend with me?” you ask, nudging his arm.

Matt glances over, barely lifting his head. “What trend?”

You flip your phone around, pressing play on the 500 Days of Summer audio. He watches, brows furrowing slightly as it plays. Then, the couple on the screen lunge at each other, kissing so hard they fall out of frame.

Matt’s eyes flick back to you, unreadable for a second. Then, he snorts. “Wait. So we just say the lines and then, like… violently make out?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “It’s romantic, Matt.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s fighting back a grin now, still acting like he’s above it. “And we have to disappear out of frame?”

“Yes.”

Matt exhales through his nose, staring at you like he’s already regretting agreeing to this. But then he sets his phone down, stretches his arms over his head, and mutters, “Alright. Let’s make some cinema.”

Take one.

The camera is propped up, slightly off-center, the lighting warm and dim. You try to keep a straight face, turning toward him.

“I love The Smiths.”

Matt stares at you blankly.

“Matt,” you whisper, nudging his leg.

He blinks. “Oh, wait. Sorry?”

You dissolve into laughter, covering your mouth. “You’re supposed to say it, not actually be confused.”

Matt groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, okay. Again.”

Take two.

“I love The Smiths.”

“Sorry?”

“I said—”

Before you can even finish, Matt lunges at you. No warning, no hesitation, just full-on crashes into you, completely messing up the timing. You yelp, hands flying up to steady yourself as you both fall out of frame way too soon, almost falling off the bed as you knock the phone also.

The camera catches nothing but the ceiling and a blur of movement.

Silence.

Matt groans, “That was terrible.”

You’re already wheezing, clutching your stomach. “Matt, we looked insane.”

He smiles at you, kissing you anyway before flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe we are.”

Take three.

This time, you’re focused. You inhale, make sure Matt is actually ready.

“I love The Smiths.”

“Sorry?”

“I said—I love The Smiths.”

And then, perfectly on cue, you both lean in, slow at first—teasing, just the briefest brush of lips, the softest press before you feel the heat of Matt’s breath.

And then, without warning, Matt pulls you in harder, a bit desperate, the kiss deepening immediately. His hands find their way to your hair, tugging you closer as his lips move against yours with a softness that surprises you.

You gasp against his mouth, hands gripping the front of his shirt, and for a second, it feels like it’s just the two of you in this quiet room. The kiss is hungry now, full of little moments that have led up to this, a little bit of teasing, a little bit of need, the world fading away as the kiss intensifies, pulling you off the edge of the bed in the process.

As you both fall, tangled in each other, you end up just out of frame, your bodies twisting as you kiss with the kind of urgency that makes everything feel perfect.

The last shot is just the empty bed, a lamp flickering softly in the background. You shuffle in Matt’s grasp, trying to get closer as he continues kissing you, pulling you even further into him.

When he finally pulls away, breathless, his forehead rests against yours for just a moment before he pulls back slightly, a small smile curling at his lips.

"Was that too much?"

And obviously, when you post it, the comments explode.

“They practiced this. I know they practiced this.” “This is EXACTLY how the trend is supposed to be done.” “Matt looking at her. Stop im so single” “The way he’s definitely watching this back 50 times.”

And Matt? He acts chill, like he doesn’t care that much, but later, when you glance at his phone, you catch a glimpse of the video playing again.

Just once. Maybe twice.

credits to rose for the dividers !! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: some more fluff even though i am anti-fluff this kinda made me smile jsdkhfksjh

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @sturnsrecordfaves @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga

[gf2bellamy]

Hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where bau!reader is cheering spencer on at his baseball game?

softball — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a guy throwing sort of rude remarks at spence ( just like in the scene ) a/n: i rewatched the scene to write this and omg i forgot how silly it is i love them all so bad theyre literally family ( also i miss blake ) i had so much fun writing this i hope you like it !! <3 ( also i literally know nothing about softball so if anything is wrong i'm vv sorry </3 )

The warm afternoon sun bathed the softball field in golden light. You walked beside the bleachers, your sneakers crunching against the gravel path, with JJ at your side. Her son Henry skipped ahead, his tiny hand clutching hers, his excitement obvious as he pointed at the players warming up on the field.

Ahead, Spencer stood by the chain- link fence, deep in conversation with Derek, who was already dressed in his baseball uniform, adjusting his grip on his glove.

Spencer, in contrast, looked hesitant and nervous.

His eyes darted toward the field, where players were tossing balls and stretching, and you could see the uncertainty written all over his face.

“Hey!” JJ called, drawing their attention. 

Spencer turned, his brows furrowing slightly before his expression shifted into surprise. Practically the entire BAU team was gathered behind you—Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Alex and even little Jack standing beside Henry. 

“What are you all doing here?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with disbelief. His eyes flickered over each of you.

You stepped forward, grinning up at him as you held out a black cap. “Came to support you, of course.” 

He turned it over in his hands, examining it, before slowly placing it on his head. The cap sat awkwardly over his curls at first, but he adjusted it carefully, pulling it down until it fit snugly.

“There,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now you look the part.”

Spencer huffed out a small, amused breath but didn’t argue. 

Ten minutes later, the game was in full swing. Derek was already at bat, sending the ball flying across the field with a powerful hit. The crowd erupted in cheers as he sprinted toward first base.

You clapped from your seat on the bleachers, sharing an excited glance with JJ. 

You watched as he stepped up to the plate, his movements hesitant as he selected a bat from the rack. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles whitening as he took his position. His stance was awkward, his feet too close together, and he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Just before the pitcher threw the ball, Spencer turned his head, searching for something—someone. 

His eyes found you. 

You gave him an encouraging look, your lips curving into a soft, reassuring smile as you nodded.

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tightened his grip on the bat. He squared his shoulders as he turned back toward the pitcher.

The opposing player wound up and threw the ball.

Spencer swung—and missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling around the edge of the bleacher.

It was okay. He just needed to get a feel for it. 

The second pitch came. Spencer adjusted his grip, focused his gaze, and swung. 

Missed again. 

The sound of the bat slicing through empty air was met with a few sympathetic murmurs from the crowd.

You exhaled softly through your nose, feeling a twinge of nervousness for him. You could see the frustration creeping into his posture, the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened.

Rossi, stood up from the bleachers as he clapped his hands together. “It’s all right, kid. You got this. Just keep your eye on the ball.” 

Spencer rolled his shoulders before repositioning himself. The third pitch came. He swung—and missed once more. 

A sharp whistle blew, signaling the end of his turn. Spencer sighed, pushing his hair back under the cap as he stepped away from the plate. 

Time passed, and the game continued. The team erupted in cheers when Derek hit a line drive into the outfield, sprinting around the bases with that signature confidence of his.

You clapped along with everyone else, letting out a light laugh when he slid into home base, grinning like he owned the field. 

Your attention drifted back to Spencer. He stood off to the side, a bat in his hand, tossing it lightly into the air as if trying to distract himself.

Except, instead of landing smoothly in his grip, it fumbled and hit the dirt with a dull thud.

You had to bite your cheek to suppress a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him further. He bent down quickly, picking it up like nothing had happened, his cheeks tinged with pink as he went back into position.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There was something so endearing about Spencer Reid—genius, FBI profiler, and yet utterly out of his element on a softball field.

You stood up from the bleachers, brushing off your jeans as you made your way over to the chain-link fence that separated the stands from the field. Leaning against it, you called out to him, your voice light and teasing.

“Need a hand with that bat, or are you just practicing your juggling skills?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you were watching him. He straightened, brushing a stray curl out of his face as he walked closer to the fence, the bat dangling loosely in his hand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize anyone was paying attention,” he admitted, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” you said with a grin, resting your arms on the top of the fence. “And I have to say, your juggling could use a little work. Maybe stick to profiling for now.”

He let out a small, self-conscious laugh, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly cut out for this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field. “I mean, I can calculate the trajectory of a ball in my head, but actually hitting it? That’s a whole different story.”

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “Hey, you’re doing better than you think. It’s just a game, Spencer.”

He glanced over at Derek, who was currently showing off with a series of exaggerated practice swings, much to the amusement of the rest of the team. “Yeah, well, Morgan makes it look easy,” Spencer muttered.

“Derek’s had years of practice,” you pointed out. “You’re just starting. Cut yourself some slack.”

Spencer sighed, leaning against the fence on his side so that you were face to face, only the metal links separating you.

Your heart softened. “You don’t have to be good at everything, Spencer. It'’s okay to just have fun.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. Finally, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fun, huh? I guess I can try that.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, reaching through the fence to give his arm a playful nudge. “And hey, if nothing else, you’ve got the best cheering section here. We’re all rooting for you.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and for the first time since the game started, he looked genuinely relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm. “That… means a lot.”

Just then, Derek’s voice boomed across the field. “Reid! You’re up again! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he quickly straightened, adjusting his cap. “I, uh, should probably go,” he said, glancing back at you.

You laughed, waving him off. “Go on. Show them what you’ve got.”

Smiling you went back to your seat. When he stepped up to bat, he glanced over at you one more time, and you gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up, earning a small chuckle from him.

JJ, Penelope, and Alex all exchanged knowing glances. 

When Spencer turned his back to get into position, you caught them looking and furrowed your brows. “What?” 

JJ smirked, leaning in slightly. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Absolutely nothing at all,” Penelope added, eyes twinkling. 

Alex just shook her head, biting back a small, amused smile. 

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was undeniable. 

And when Spencer stepped up to bat once more, he stole one last glance at you before squaring his stance. His eyes lingered for just a moment, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But then, from the opposing team’s dugout, someone called out, “This guy can’t hit.”

You frowned, your expression twisting in annoyance.

That was unnecessary.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed. 

Derek, standing near home plate, lifted a hand and called for a time-out. He turned on his heel and strode toward Spencer, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in to say something. 

You let out a small breath of relief. 

Rossi, seated just below you on the bleachers, leaned back slightly and smirked. “Shoot him another one of your good luck smiles. Maybe he won’t miss this time.” 

Your eyes narrowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep yourself composed. 

Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, and the rest of the team exchanged knowing glances. 

Derek finally walked back to his position, and Spencer turned around once more—his eyes searching for you almost instinctively. You met his gaze, and despite the slight nervousness still lingering in his stance, you smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nod. 

“There you go,” Rossi muttered under his breath, and you shot him a glare, though it held no real heat. 

You ignored him, keeping your eyes on Spencer as he adjusted his grip on the bat, exhaled, and squared his stance once more. 

The pitcher wound up. 

The ball came flying toward him. 

Spencer swung. 

And missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling slightly as you watched him adjust.

The second pitch came. 

Another miss. 

You swallowed hard. You could tell he was getting in his own head. 

And then, just as the pitcher lined up for the third throw, that same player from earlier muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “This guy’s got nothing.” 

Your head snapped toward him, irritation bubbling up in your chest. Oh, shut up, you thought, resisting the urge to march over there yourself. You shot the player a glare, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

Then, the third pitch came. 

For a split second, time seemed to slow. 

Spencer swung— 

Crack! 

The unmistakable sound of the bat making solid contact echoed across the field. 

The ball shot into the air, soaring far past the infield. 

For a second, Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He blinked at the bat in his hands, then at the ball still sailing through the air, as if trying to process what had just happened.

He didn’t move an inch. 

“Spencer, run!” 

Everyone was shouting now—Derek, Rossi, JJ, Penelope,Alex even Hotch. But it was your voice that seemed to snap him out of it. His head jerked in your direction, and when he saw you standing, hands cupped around your mouth as you cheered, something seemed to click. 

He ran. 

Derek was smacking his hands against his knees. “C’mon, kid, move it!” 

Spencer rounded first, then second. The outfielders were still scrambling to recover, and the team’s cheers only grew louder. 

By the time he made it to third, you could see the determination set on his face. His cap had slipped slightly, his curls bouncing with every stride, and his cheeks were flushed from the effort.

“Go, Spencer!” you yelled, clapping wildly. 

The second the opposing team threw the ball toward home plate, Spencer took one final, desperate sprint— 

And then slid. 

It wasn’t the smoothest slide, and judging by the way he grimaced as he skidded across the dirt, it definitely wasn’t something he had ever practiced before. But when the referee threw his arms out and called, “Safe!” the entire BAU team erupted. 

Derek was the first to reach him, pulling Spencer to his feet and clapping him on the back so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “That’s what I’m talking about, kid!” he shouted, his grin wide and proud.

JJ and Penelope were cheering loudly, their voices carrying across the field, while Rossi let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. Even Hotch, who was usually so stoic, was cheering.

But your eyes were on Spencer. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but there was a look of pure triumph on his face.

His cap was crooked, his shirt was covered in dirt, and his hair was a complete mess, but he looked happier than you’d seen him in a long time.

When his eyes found yours, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. You grinned back at him, giving him a thumbs-up, and he shook his head, laughing softly as he adjusted his cap.

After a few moments, as the team’s cheers began to subside, Spencer finally managed to wiggle free from Derek’s grip, stepping away from the celebratory pit.

His teammates continued to pat him on the back, offering congratulations and words of encouragement, but Spencer’s attention was already drifting.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you.

When he finally spotted you, his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You walked up to him, your smile growing wider with every step.

Spencer was still slightly breathless, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline , but all he could focus on was you.

The noise of the cheering team, the occasional slap on his back from his teammates—it all faded into the background the moment your arms wrapped around his neck. 

His fingers instinctively tightened around your waist, his grip warm.

“You did great,” you said, your voice full of excitement, as you pulled back slightly, your smile so wide it felt like it could light up the entire field. 

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. You were so close.

He could see the way your cheeks were slightly flushed—whether from the excitement of the game or something else, he wasn’t sure. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah.” 

His heart stuttered at the confirmation, at the way you were looking at him like he had genuinely impressed you.

It wasn’t often that Spencer Reid felt cool, but right now, standing here with you, he kind of did. 

The way you were looking at him, your arms still loosely draped around his neck, made him feel like he’d just accomplished something extraordinary—even if it was just a lucky hit in a casual softball game.

“See, pretty boy? Told you you had it in you,” Derek called, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past, effectively snapping Spencer out of his daze. 

You giggled, finally stepping back, though Spencer hesitated before letting you go.

Garcia practically skipped over, phone in hand. “Oh, don’t mind me, just capturing all these adorable moments,” she teased, wiggling her fingers at her screen. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up your neck. “Garcia…” 

“What? This is gold,” she argued, waving her phone. “The genius hits a home run, and his biggest fan is the first one to congratulate him? I live for this.” 

Spencer, still trying to recover from all of this, rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning.

You reached up, gently adjusting his cap.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead, and for a moment, Spencer froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you.

“There,” you said softly, smoothing the brim of the cap. “Now you look like a proper MVP.”

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his mind racing as he tried to process the way your touch made him feel.

Rossi, who had been watching from the bleachers with an amused smirk, leaned toward Hotch and muttered, “I give it two months.”

Hotch merely sighed, shaking his head. “They’ll be the last to realize it.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:43 pm]

(cw: f!reader, Mark is drunk)

"Fuck yeah! Keg stand champion!" You hear someone yell as you make your way into the crowded living room of the NXT frat house.

You hadn't planned on being here tonight. You had some assignments you wanted to get a jump on, you hadn't been in the best mood all day, and you didn't feel like spending your night around a bunch of drunken, bumbling idiots.

So how did you end up here? Your drunk, bumbling boyfriend fratboy!Mark. Well, not him directly. He'd been a little whiny when you told him you weren't going to come to the party tonight, but he understood your reasoning and didn't push. You'd actually gotten a call from Johnny about 20 minutes ago asking you to come help with Mark.

Mark was a lightweight, like a featherweight even. If he even smelled alcohol, he got tipsy. For the most part, during parties, you put yourself in charge of making sure Mark didn't get too drunk. When he got too drunk he got messy. Without you being there, there was no one to be in charge. You should have guessed you'd be getting this call at some point in the night, but not less than an hour after the party began.

You elbow past some drunk party goers and make your way upstairs toward one of the bathrooms that's always off limits during parties. You knock, hearing a muffled, "occupied! Use a bathroom downstairs!"

"Johnny," you reply, "it's me."

You hear a retch and cringe, listening as Johnny pulls the door open. He let's out a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry, he just wouldn't stop crying because he missed you. I don't know how you deal with this. He's fine with you, right?"

"Of course he is. Thanks for calling, enjoy your party," you nod with a smile.

Johnny leaves you and Mark alone in the bathroom and you take to helping Mark out. You rub his back and give him the water bottle Johnny had left on the counter for him. Mark is groaning the whole time, eyes shut as he curls in on himself. After about 15 minutes you know that he's done.

He's slumped against the toilet bowl when you pat his cheek, "come on, babe. Let's get you back to bed."

He doesn't even open his eyes as he whines, "not goin' to my room wi' you."

"We need to get you to bed, babe, come on," you prod.

His eyes snap open as he lifts his head, "Stop callin' me babe. Look, I have a girlfriend alright. She won't be happy if I bring another girl to my room."

"Mark, I am your girlfriend," you explain.

"No, you're not," Mark shakes his head like a child, "my girlfriend didn't wanna come out tonight, and she said— she said she's not comin' tonight." He's looking up at you with tears in his eyes, "I really miss 'er."

You crouch down beside him, cupping his cheek as you coo, "baby, I'm here. It's me."

"No, you're not you!" He squints at you, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about needing his glasses, "if you're my girlfriend, tell me something only my girlfriend would know."

You stare at Mark blankly, as his girlfriend since senior year of high school, there's a lot of things only you would know. You shrug and answer anyway, "when we lost our virginities to each other you cried."

"My mom knows that too, pick something else!"

"Mark, why would you tell your mom about that?" You ask incredulously.

"She loves me!" He cries, "just like my girlfriend! I miss my girlfriend!"

"Oh my— Mark Lee. It's me, I'm your girlfriend. You text me every time you need to wash your sheets because you forget how much detergent you need, you like it when I kiss below your ear, you keep snacks under your bed for midnight snacks, and you have a crush on the librarian on the third floor for some reason," you list off.

"Oh, my snuggle muffin! It is you! I missed you!" Mark exclaims as he throws himself into your lap, embracing you tightly.

You laugh, brushing your fingers through his damp hair, "I told you. Can we get you to bed now?"

"You're staying right?"

"Yes, Mark."

[somerocky-dork]

The scene with them when they first meet altered my brain chemistry more than they ever did, I need you to understand my heart MELTED at them, and the track they used made it more heartwarming, the emotions he feels

The confusion, the curiosity, I love every bit of it

Also Maria mocking his little scowl was the cutest thing ever, he was so curious when she mocked him

And the way his eyes trace the movement of the marker on the glass and he looks at the doodle after, then at her with a soft smile then it fades as he gets confused again aaaaaa I love them so much

I finally found the chance to get some screenshots of these two. This whole montage cured my depression and brought it back again at the end of it.

Also, I just LOVE how the very instant she met Shadow in the lab, she decides to not only playfully mock his scowl but also clown him by drawing that picture around his face XD

They are absolutely everything ❤️🖤 💙

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely, any chance you could do James x reader who is stressing over exam season?

Thanks for all the great work bb we appreciate it so much :)

Thank you angel, I love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 768 words

“Hey, lovely girl.” James comes up behind your chair with an arm around your front and a kiss to your head, surreptitiously slipping away your coffee. “How’s it going?” 

“It’s going fine,” you say. It’s a lie, but you have larger concerns. Your boyfriend is acting suspicious. “What are you doing?” 

“Just checking in on you.” 

“No, what are you doing with my drink?” 

“I was thinking we could make an exchange,” James says casually. 

You sigh, both craving and resenting the break. “I need to focus. No side quests.” 

“This isn’t a side quest. It’s a…a brief deviation—”

“That’s another way to say side quest.” 

“You didn’t let me finish. A brief deviation which will ultimately result in you being more productive.” 

You pause. “Okay…” 

James stamps a happy kiss to your hair. “So, first, I was thinking we could pick up some matcha or something—” 

“James,” you cut him off gently, “that’s a sweet thought, but matcha doesn’t have any caffeine in it.” 

“I’ve heard that, yeah. That’s a key feature of the plan, as it happens.” 

“I feel like I sort of need caffeine for my studying, lovely.” 

James makes a wishy-washy humming sound. It buzzes against the top of your head where he rests his chin. “Have you noticed that you’re vibrating?” he asks.

“I’m…” You take a quick stock of yourself. You feel exhausted, drained. Not vibratey. “No, I’m not.” 

“Mhm. I can actually feel your heart beating against my arm right now.” 

Now that he says so, you can feel it too. “Well, I’m nervous.” Your voice takes on an unintentional sharpness. “I’ve got three exams this week, and I want to do well. I can’t just check out.” 

James might have been anticipating you’d get prickly. He stays perfectly calm, only sweeping his thumb over your collarbone mollifyingly. You feel instantly ridiculous for your small breakage.

“I know, angel,” he says, in that everything’s-just-fine voice of his. “I get that you’re stressed. And it sucks that it is so stressful, but I’m not saying you should check out. I just want to make your studying go easier.” 

You’re quiet, guilty and embarrassed for sniping at him when he’s so relentlessly kind to you. James never does anything but make things easier for you, even when he’s not trying to. He makes your life easier just by existing. 

James lets go of you with the arm across your chest to squat by your chair, looking up into your face. He touches his thumb to the top of your cheekbone. 

“You look like your eyes hurt.” 

“They do,” you admit. 

He smiles ruefully. “Can I tell you the rest of the plan?” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

“I was thinking we’d take our matcha—or uncaffeinated beverages of your choice—and go to the park by Remus’ place. It has that little quiet area down the trail, remember? You could bring your books. It’d still be studying, but” —James shrugs, looking at the bright light you’ve positioned above your textbook, your grimy coffee mug, the chair you’ve been sitting in since you got up this morning— “this isn’t good for you. Maybe a change of scenery will help.” 

Now it’s you wanting a deviation. A side quest, an excuse to check out. You want to take James’ face between your hands and spend the rest of the week ensuring no inch of it goes unkissed. Screw exams. When he looks at you like this, so wholesome and earnest and chock full of good intentions, you genuinely think you must be the luckiest girl in the world. 

“That sounds nice,” you say. 

James grins, and god, his dimples dig in so deep you really could get lost in them if you let yourself. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You give in slightly to indulgence, leaning down to press your lips to his cupid’s bow. Retracting before you forget about exams altogether. “That’s a really lovely idea, Jamie. Thank you for thinking of it.” 

“Well, it wasn’t hard,” he says breezily. “All I had to do was think to myself, if I were wearing my eyes out being a swot all day, where would I rather be?” 

You smile. James’ doubles in wattage because of it. “Well, you nailed it. That sounds perfect.” 

“Plans are my forte, lovely. Let’s see, maybe we try studying there until the sun starts to go down, and then you can call it quits for the evening.” 

“I thought we agreed on no checking out.” 

“But what if I put cucumbers on your eyes? That’s not checking out, that’s just rejuvenation.” 

“I…might be slightly more amenable to that.”

[hhughes]

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333