#I hope it’ll be chocolate

[cyber-streak-2]

mint. 🍪

Seems like that’ll be fun :)

[puppypawprince]

can I start biting people already. is that allowed

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

��What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[lovebugism]

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player. 

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway. 

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt. 

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole. 

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw. 

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that. 

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

[r1elle]

“no use crying over spilled milk.” —except, there probably is.

a. miya x reader

atsumu knows he’s messed up.

he thinks he may need to leave all that he’s accomplished in his lifetime — all because of a simple, but dire mistake.

“this can’t be happenin..” the blonde murmurs, looking at the monstrosity infront of him.

spilled vegetable smoothie. on three dozens of cooling cookies. that you’ve excitedly made. for your friends and family. as gifts.

atsumu was definitely crying over this ‘spilled milk’.

brushing off the fear of getting divorced on Christmas Eve, atsumu decides to think of how he can remove any remaining evidence.

he thinks that perhaps he can just bake the cookies again, —but argh, he silently curses osamu for taking the culinary skills.

the blonde scrambles around, scurrying to every part of the kitchen to at least try and scrape some of the green-kelpy smoothie bits on your cookies.

the opening of the front door was the only thing that could make him drop whatever he was doing.

“atsumu!~ do you think you can help me with the groceries? i ended up going a little overboard, so i bought some hot coco and chocolate fondue as something to go with the cookies! and—“ you ramble on, however atsumu could only feel the lump forming in his throat, the sweat on his forehead, and the drying of his lips.

he’d rather experience losing a volleyball match right now.

but unfortunately, the sweating of his palms wasn’t going to help him cover his crime scene— with you finally walking up to him with a questionable tone and all.

on some lame attempt to delay your discovery by even a fraction of a second, atsumu lays a cloth on top of your pastries.

“hey, something the matt—……er…?”

you pause in between your words, familiar with atsumu’s current expression. your husband is wearing the exact face he made the last time he realized he’d accidentally mistaken your diy project as trash and threw it out. (valentines almost ended off with him sleeping on the couch.)

his face could only mean one thing, then.

however, distracting you from the overly guilty look on his face was the unusual placement of the rag that you had bought not long ago.

you look at the cookies.

he looks at you.

you look at him.

he looks at the cookies.

you lift the rag.

green, protein-y, vegetable smoothie mix laid on top of your thick, chocolate chipped cookies.

“miya.”

despite the fact that you both now share the same last name— atsumu knows you talk of his last name.

he fears that you may end up going back to your own after this night passes.

“baby please, i— i didn’t…” he rambles, but knows that no excuse can save him from his actions. he pinches the bridge of his nose. “…im…i’m sorry, hon. i’ve got no excuse. i was bein’ careless, and yer’ cookies are all damped because of my stupidity. i’m sorry. what can i do? hm?”

his build envelopes yours, and suddenly you find a man nearing his 30s senselessly murmuring sweet nothings to your ear, hoping that perhaps a single saying can be of the slightest comfort to your disappointment.

the room quiets down, the sound of the ventilation being the only source bearing noise.

the silence only makes atsumu antsy, who begins to lose hope of your anger easing down any time soon.

and so, he decides to call it a night.

“i’ll take the couch tonight, hm? how’s that? i know that it’s nothin’ much…”

a grin.

“…but if it’ll help you in even the slightest way, i’m more than willing to do it—”

a stifle of laughter.

atsumu paused, thinking that the (familiar) sound he’d just heard was some sort of hallucination that his mind had made up on the spot.

“a-anyway, i’ll see what i can do soon, and—“

finally releasing any ounce of self control you had, bursts of laughter start leaving your mouth.

“oh— oh, oh my gosh, i…” your unexplained cackling begins to alter the solemn look on your husbands face into one of confusion.

“you just looked so pathetic— it was cute! i’m sorry, i’m sorry..” you manage to hide in a snort, your husbands eyes following every movement you made.

why were you laughing? was he getting divorced?! is this some sick way to break it to him? no…no??! you’ve both been through so much together, you couldn’t possibly—… but then again… he’s probably put you through so much! argh! is this what osamu meant when he said—

atsumu’s disorganized internal thoughts then get interrupted by your pecks, something that’s been able to melt him since your last year of highschool.

“i’m not mad, no.. no,” you smile, a little giggle sneaking out. “i just couldn’t help but see how you’d react if i looked mad! i’m sorry baby, forgive me?” you coo, your head lifting up to meet his eyes as you sway his tall figure.

“but… i.. yer not mad? i completely trashed the cookies, babe. look!—

“i may or may not have accidentally mixed the salt up for sugar.” you say, a playful smile greeting your lips. “haven’t told you about the cookies i just bought from the store.”

as if all his worries had come to an end, atsumu’s shoulders slump down, a sigh coming out of him.

“ya couldn’t just tell me all that in the beginnin’?”

“and miss seeing you all so guilty and pouty? what am i, insane?”

“be happy i love ya’.”

“need i remind you of last valentines, then?”

“why don’t we get set up? also, yer’ lookin’ beautiful in that dress. anyone told you that yet?”

“okay, you can stop that now, miya.”

“yer’ a miya too, ya know.” he grins.

you roll your eyes, however a smile creeps it’s way in, betraying your ‘dismay’ towards the man.

“you’re right. i suppose i am.”

this was from the request of an oomf !

can we just pretend this was posted before Christmas thank u very muchiez

i fear that the pathetic husband atsumu will never become a trope i’ll get tired of

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone !

ps. if you start seeing that i lowkey started to get confused as to how to write that lil accent he has, no u didn’t.

[00-jammy-00]

Hi! 🌙 anon here!! Don't worry it's totally okay I make mistakes like that all the time too :D

I don't remember what I said exactly but I remember I said something like a Yandere kidnaps a transmasc Y/n and teases his clit and gets him cock drunk. With like an aphrodisiac and constantly being needy for the Yandere type thing? Perhaps overstim and multiple orgasms? I'm sorry I forget (●//▽//●)

Also side note, I typed out this ask and accidentally deleted it instead of sending it too--so clearly this is an easy mistake to make!

Alrighty, love your blog and the masterpieces you write! And I know I didn't say this last time but your pfp is so cute I love it

Yan!Kidnapper [Cock-drunk Reader Scenario]

Yan!Kidnapper x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, THIS IS SMUT, He’s your kidnapper so mentioned kidnapping, mean yan, spanking (once), slight choking (once), he loves your nipples, psycho yan, he’s just a jerk

A/N - thank you so much for resubmitting your ask 🌙 anon <3 As you said in your second ask, I don’t write for anything other than GN reader so I’ve just adjusted your ask to that xo. This Yan is actually a little sneak peak of a new oc I’ll be adding soon. This is also my first time writing full smut so sorry if it’s not the best 🙏

———————————————————————————————————

“For fucks sake [Reader], you got to keep still baby.” Jasper grunted, rubbing his tip against your hole before pulling it away once more. His grin only grew when he heard a whine slip from your lips. “Such a little slut for me, yeah? Your hole is trying to suck me in.” He chuckled, leaning his head lower to tug on one of your nipples with his teeth.

Your lovely kidnapper of a few months had decided it was a good idea to buy that viral sex chocolate or whatever the fuck he had seen on TikTok. It obviously did the trick because you were currently panting and whining just from the feel of his cock near you. “Christ babe, if you keep moving I’m going to tie you up.” He hissed, bringing a hand down on your ass in hopes it’ll stop you from fucking moving.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to hold himself back from just pounding you. Last time he did that, you bitched about it for so long. He blew some cold air on your nipple and laughed mockingly when you squirmed. “Do you want my cock? You want me to fuck you? Thought you said I was insane and shit?” He grinned, giving a rough tug to your already puffy nipples. “If you say please, I’ll give you what you want.”

He rubbed his cock head up and down your entrance at a teasingly slow pace. Up, down, up, down, up, down. You couldn’t take it anymore! When he finally heard that magic word tumble out of your mouth he eagerly slammed into you in one go, relishing in the sound you made. He grabbed onto your hips with a bruising grip and started to thrust, making sure to hit that special spot that made you scream.

“Fuck! You’re so tight! Such a pretty whore for me.” Jasper groaned, lifting your legs over his head. He pressed a kiss to your ankle before nipping at it with a smirk. “Might cum just from looking at your face. You’re making such cute faces at me babe.” He slid his hand up and gripped your throat, giving it a small squeeze before giving your nipple a sloppy kiss. “Keep squeezing me [Reader]. Fuck yeah, that’s it!” He grunted though his voice became slightly whiny as he picked up his pace.

“Gonna cum in your pretty hole, yeah? You like that?” He wiped some saliva from your chin before sticking two of his fingers in your mouth. He began to push them in and out at the same pace of his thrusts, eyes lighting up when your eyes rolled back into your head. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” He cooed mockingly, moving his hands back down to your hips. “I’m about to cum so hold still, okay?” He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before thrusting quicker.

With a final moan, he came inside you. He was panting, eyes gone hazy before he snapped out of it and kissed your forehead. “You were so good for me, gonna clean you up now, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out and moving to the bathroom. While he ran a bath, he couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across his face. Jasper finally fucking had you, you were his, fully. He wasn’t going to let you go, never, especially after you enjoyed having sex with him so much!

———————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[seokmn]

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

wc: 0.4k words

lua’s note: merry christmas everyone!! hope yall eat a lot and feel very loved today ❤️💚

the night was incredibly cold, thankfully you were cozy and warm inside your house, preparing hot chocolate for you and your boyfriend. the fireplace lighting the whole living room and a part of the kitchen with a yellow light, giving a comfy vibe to the house.

“cheol? the hot chocolate is done!” no answer. “cheollie?” you looked around the house, entering room by room trying to find him, but he was no where to be found.

“seungcheol?” you raised your voice, “if you’re trying to scare me, you better not. im holding two mugs full of hot chocolate!” still no answer.

where could he be?

you decided to look outside the window and there seungcheol was, doing something in the middle of the snow. you placed the mugs on the kitchen counter, put on your coat, grabbed the mugs again and went outside. “what are you doing? it’s freezing here!”

seungcheol turned around to look at you and smiled, “there you are,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, being careful to not make you spill the hot chocolate. “you made us hot chocolate, huh? youre the best.” he kissed your cheek.

“yea yea, what are you doing here?” you handed him his mug, he took it and murmured a thank you. “creating a masterpiece, cant you see it?” he gestured to the ground and you looked at it, surprised to see that he made a perfect heart shape in the snow

“oh wow! we have an artist here, everyone.” you chuckled and took a sip of the hot chocolate while seungcheol was smiling proudly, delighted with his work. “whats the name of the masterpiece?”

“my heart.” you laughed and tilted your head, “‘my heart’?”

“yes. you see, thats my heart before i met you”

“you mean in a perfect shape?” you quirked your eyebrow and he laughed and and moved his head left and right, indicating a ‘perhaps’ with his head movements. “in a perfect shape, but frozen”

“and what about after you met me?”

“you see when the snow melts”

“then there’ll be no heart”

“exactly. my heart will start to melt because your love is warm and then it’ll disappear because you stole it.” you laughed and shook your head. “youre so cheesy, i swear to god.”

seungcheol chuckled, you could see the cold air coming out of his mouth and his red nose due the cold weather. his lips met yours as he gave you a gently kiss.

“now lets go inside, please. im freezing and our hot chocolate will become frozen chocolate if we stay here for too long”

[cherry-leclerc]

dirty mouth ☆ cl16

genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of smut

word count: 2.5k

Winter break and your boyfriend convinces you to go with him for his annual training in preparation for the new season, and this unleashes a natural disaster when it comes to him.

req!… hope u guys enjoy a bit of pottymouth!charles lol

When your boyfriend first brought up the idea of you tagging along to his winter training you thought, yeah, it doesn’t sound half bad. Sitting by the fireplace - hot chocolate and an overdue book in hand…

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc I am going to kill you,” you screech as you slide down the fast hill, white snow flying all around you from the sudden speed. His heart races fast as he chases after you.

You had begged for hours for him to let you read in peace. It’s all about the experience, he would yodel as he pointed out the window where everyone was skiing. Come on, it’ll be fun. 

Given, you wanted him to stop moaning every second - not in that way at least - and so, you complied. “Oh, amore, you look so cute! Wait, hold on, let me take a picture.” 

“I look like a stupid snowman,” you growl as you look down at your ski suit. Wincing at the strong flash of his phone, you scrunch your nose. He frowns. 

“An adorable snowman.”

As soon as you stepped foot out, you wanted to punch him square in the face. It was so cold that for a moment you thought your limbs would give out. Joris giggles as he snaps a quick Polaroid of you pouting, cheeks the darkest shade a pink. You flip him off before turning to Charles. 

“You don’t love me.” He groans, already knowing this card all too well. You hum. “Nuh-uh, you don’t because if you did then you wouldn’t put me in this position.” A smirk slides onto his soft lips.

“Don’t worry, I know a position that will warm you up later.” Your jaw drops. Leaning down to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose, he continues. “And I do love you, don’t be ridiculous.” 

You realized he wasn’t going to give in to your pleas to let you turn back around, so you sucked it up and followed him and the boys. Andrea bumps his shoulder against yours, trying to get your attention. 

“Vous plaisantez j'espère?” you groan as you fall down into a pile of snow, unbalanced from his delicate nudge. His smile drops. Sorry, sorry! He checks to see if you’re hurt because Lord watch out if you are, Charles would kill him. 

“Questo é fantastico,” Joris mutters as he takes another picture. You bite the air. Andrea waves him off before helping you plunge through the snow. 

“Please don’t tell Charles,” he begs as you squint your eyes teasingly. Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m fine, aren’t I? Your boyfriend’ trainer silently thanks you. “I was just trying to ask if you were ready?” He wiggles his dark brows. 

“Ready for what?” You look around. “To freeze my ass off?” He stops dead in his tracks. “Oh! You mean to go to the bunny slope!” Cheerfully, you clap, wide grin stretched onto your lips. “I’m kind of scared, but it’s for beginners so I think I’ll be okay. Plus, you guys will all be there.”

Andrea shakes his head, almost seeming disappointed. “Charles, Charles, Charles…”

“Charles what?” 

“We’re here!” Looking up at your boyfriend, he buzzes as he points up at the ski lift. Your smile drops. Angrily, you struggle to make your way up to him before smacking his shoulder. 

“You said the bunny slope!”

He grimaces. “I know, I know, but you need to feel the rush!” He tries to kiss you but you swiftly turn your head causing him to smack his lips right onto your helmet. “I know you’re mad-”

“Of course I’m mad, you lied. I can’t go up there.” Huffing, you cross your arms. He winces at your tone. 

“Chérie, but I’ll be there with you! Joris, Andrea, Antonio, me…” He coolly raises his brows. “We’ll keep you safe.” 

You scoff. “Better start planning my funeral.”

“You’ll be fine, let’s go.”

-

“Alright baby, bend your knees - come on - you know how to do that,” he teases with a cocky tone. The boys groan as they cover their ears and you burn bright red. He throws his head back laughing as he continues. “Lean a bit toward, too.” He suppresses another dirty joke when you throw the ski poles all frustrated.

“I’m not doing this if you keep this up.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” he promises as he hands them back to you. After a bit more coaching from all of them, you nod. 

“Lots of mansplaining, but I guess I could give it a shot.” You narrow your eyes at your friends. “Promise you guys will go after me if I can’t stop?” 

Promise, they repeat in unison. 

“Pro?” a teenage boy asks as he looks you up and down. Charles clenches his jaw as he steps in. She is. His voice comes out harsh and the worker just raises his arms up in defense before winking over at you. Have fun. 

Dragging you away, you squeal as you try to keep up. “He was only being nice!” Nice my ass, he sourly grunts as he makes sure your feet are secure. You pout. “And I’m not a professional, you stinky liar.” You roll your eyes. “Guess that’s all you know how to do today - lie.”

Playfully, he mimics your movements, then he smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and show us all what you learned.” You squirm at his words before nodding. 

Knees slightly bent, like how they are when you bounce up and down around his thick cock.

Lean forward, like when you press your naked chest against his own and he kisses you until your lips burn out. 

Everything somehow led back to moments between you and the Monegasque and maybe that’s what made you far too unfocused that you missed your step and started sliding down the hill before you even had a chance to notice. 

“Guys!” you wail as you fly past by them with their jaws on the floor. “You group of liars!” 

The brunette quickly snaps out of it and chases after you, avidly skiing past other skiers. Andrea, Joris and Antonio all follow after him as they breath heavily. 

“Turn, baby, turn,” Charles screeches as he clumsily throws out reminders of what he taught you on how to come to a halt. Shift your body weight! 

Shutting your eyes for a brief second, you send a quick prayer to the man up above and curse your boyfriend for a lifetime. “I can’t do it, I’m sca- agh!” 

You’re barely able to safely swoosh past a group of boys as they all yell at you. Charles flips them off before sliding past them. 

“Smile!” Joris demands as he clicks his camera. You little bitch, you shout. Help me, douchebag! “Right.” He’s just about to catch you when all of a sudden he loses his place and falls. “Oh, allez!” 

Then comes Antonio who as much as he tries to help, he can’t seem to get close enough. Charles huffs a puff of cold air. “Just grab her!” She keeps getting away, his friend pants. 

And Andrea isn’t really trying but he’s definitely in for adrenaline as he cheers for his friends like their own personal cheerleader. Oh, so close! 

Joris eventually catches up but can’t do much anymore, apart from start recording. He laughs as you zigzag, arms momentarily flinging through the air. 

“No! Keep them still!” Charles yelps, terrified to see you hurt yourself. 

“I’m never listening to you ever again, Charles! You never think when it comes to these things, do you?” You tremble from the icy breeze. “Noooo, he never does! Because all he thinks about is fun, fun, fun, fu-”

Next thing you know, you’re crashing into a chunk of snow as you groan from the sudden stop, but nothing hurts. “Oh thank God,” you let out. Patting yourself down, you squint your eyes at the group of men who ease their pace as they grow closer to you. “Dickheads.” You look around. “Where’s Charles?”

Hearing the shutter of a camera go off, you tilt your head in confusion. “Oh yeah,” Joris gasps. “This is definitely going to be shown at your guys’ wedding.”

Feeling something twitch underneath you, you squeal with panic as you try jumping up but only hear a ring of grunts. And you recognize them like the back of your hand. 

“Charles?” Taking off his helmet abruptly, he heaves. As soon as he catches his breath, he touches your face carefully. Are you hurt? Are you okay? You throw your arms over him like a koala and kiss his clothed neck. “What do you mean, am I okay, what about you?” He shrugs it off.

“As long as you are.” 

You swoon before swatting him all over his chest. This is pure gold, Joris adds as he continues recording. 

“Men are all dirty, filthy, scrummy, stupid liars,” you hissed as his large hands tried to ease your hits. “You said you guys would help me!” 

His eyes darken. “What do you call what I just did? I basically gave my life for you!” He brushes white snow off his lashes. “I’m lucky to be alive, you brat.”

Dinner that night is filled with snarky remarks from Charles and strong bickering from you. 

“If you hadn’t forced me then I wouldn’t be bitching about it!”

His right eye twitches for a split second. “I already said I was sorry! I saved you, be a little thankful.”

The group of friends could tell the tension was growing thicker between the couple as they munch on their food quietly. He just doesn’t have a single cell to help him think about the consequences, you mumble as you bite down on a brussels sprout. 

“You know what? How about we all just relax?” Andrea tried to lessen the rigid behavior of his two friends. “How does a trip to the hot tub sound?”

-

The Monegasque stiffens as soon as you walk out with your tiny bikini. You were a quivering mess, which made you cross your arms to try and warm yourself up, which in return ruined your boyfriend's sanity. He was practically drooling like a dog at the sight of your perfect tits being pressed up. 

In a singular motion, Charles removes his shirt, leaving him in only his swim shorts. His large bulge increases your heart tempo as you remind yourself to keep cool since Joris and the rest were still around. 

“Mierde, you know what? I forgot the towels.” Joris turns to Andrea and Antonio. “Do you guys mind helping me?” They patiently nod before making their way back into the cabin. 

Teeth chattering is all he could hear coming from you, white rings flying in the air as you let out shaky breaths. His arms itch to bring you in and it’s not until he looks into your loopy eyes that he sighs and makes his way over.

He towers over you as his arms wrap around you like the warmest blanket to ever exist. “Are you still mad?” Despite letting him touch you, you still keep your face straight, not letting him be able to read you. “Chérie-”

“I want to get in,” you cut him, creating distance as you dip your toe in first into the hot tub and then the rest. Annoyed, he tsks his tongue before doing the same. Be like that then. 

Click. 

Turning fast to face the glass door, you vividly catch a glimpse of your friends locking it and closing the curtains. Make amends, Andrea yells out like a strict parent. 

“Connards!” Splashing your hands onto the water as a mini tantrum, you moan. The green eyed boy keeps quiet as he watches you. “What are you looking at?” you hiss. Nothing.

You think about climbing out and trying to find a way back in but the hot water feels too good so you decide against it, choosing to enjoy the sensation. As soon as you close your eyes, the brunette starts whistling. 

At first you try to tune him out, but it only gets louder from there. Theme From A Summer Place. You recognize it in less than a second. It’s what he always plays for you on the piano as you bake him snickerdoodles. Whether it’s summer or not - it’s a routine. 

Your silly resentment grows smaller with every curve his tongue travels through, soft symphonies somehow making you feel more cozy than the actual hot tub. 

He could hear the way you tread through the water, but it still catches him by surprise as you climb onto his lap, graceful fingers pushing his long hair back a bit. 

“I’m sorry for being a bitch today.” 

He chuckles deeply, leaning up to kiss your wet lips. “I’m sorry for almost killing you.” He drums his fingers against your thigh. “It scared me when you lost control…I should’ve just let you stay back.”

“It wasn't right for you to assume that I would be fine skipping the bunny slope and jumping straight into that, but I know you meant no harm.” His jaw ticks. 

“Of course I meant no harm, are you kidding me? You dragged my heart along with you when you flew down that hill.” You giggle sweetly, strands of hair sliding off your shoulders. He smiles. 

“It’s not entirely your fault.” He quirks his left eyebrow. Blushing, you begin playing with the droplets that sprinkle across his chest. “My mind went…” He whistles seductively. You nod, avoiding his green stare. “Yup.”

“It’s normal, no? I mean you are my girlfriend.” 

“But not in a moment like that, Charles! We all nearly died,” you wheeze as you shift on his lap. He grunts. 

“And yet, we didn’t.” Turned on by everything about you, he angles his head upward before linking his pink lips to yours. Water droplets tickle your chin as he moves his mouth against your own. Your body temperature increasingly grows heated and not just from the hot tub. 

The way he kisses you with such urgency is enough to make your head spin, as if he’s been away for years and just barely got the opportunity to enjoy your pillowy lips. Slowly, you circle your hips as he groans, hands pinching you in return as he grows harder. 

“God, I’m so glad you didn’t die,” he mumbles in between your lips. Laughing, you vibrate against him as he cringes at the sudden change. “Anddd you ruined it.” You poke your tongue out.

“Don’t say perverted things then!” 

His stare drops. “How is that perverted?”

Shrugging, you climb off his lips as you press a warm kiss against his stubble. “Teasing, Mr. Leclerc. But how about we go up to bed?” 

His eyes crinkle at your simple words. “Shoot me in the head if I ever say no to that.” Splashing out of the pool, you giggle as he grabs you, kissing every inch of your glowy skin.

-

Headboard hits the wall strong and fast as you cry out against his chest, groans flying past his lips as he circles his fingers against your swollen clit. 

From downstairs, the boys grab Charles’ car keys as they hurry out the door.

“Andrea, what were you thinking?”

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[baby-yongbok]

I Dare You

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

➺ Genre: Smut, 1% plot 99% disgusting

➺Summary: Eat a sex chocolate before the party he said. It'll be fun he said.

➺ Word Count: 3.8k

➺🩶A/N: This is like a beginner piss kink fic lol it's filthy but if piss fics aren't usually your thing then this one is calm enough for you to dip your toe in the water. It's just subtle enough for those who like calm scenes (At least it is in my opinion. I could've made this WAY more intense 😭) + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy!

➺ Warnings: Piss , Squirting, Fingering, Oral (M receiving), Use of an Aphrodisiac, Car sex (Please be safe, don't nut and drive), Appearance by + mentions of Changbin [I think that's all] - Again, this is a piss kink fic. It's subtle but there is piss.

➺Request: Yes - No

✧Masterlist✧

It was a dare, a stupid dare that you’re currently regretting as you down your fourth glass of champagne. The burn of your heels pressing into the balls of your feet could hardly compare to the ache you felt between your legs. You stood at the bar, lips pulled into a thin line as the sound of some slowed R&B song swirled through the air. You wanted to dance and have a good time with the rest of your friends but you just couldn’t, not like this. As you took in the moving bodies in the middle of the room your eyes landed on his, your friend. The one who started all of this.

To be fair you should’ve known better than to listen to Hyunjin, he’s always up to something. You knew when he handed you that damned chocolate that it was a bad idea. “It’ll be fun, come on, I dare you. It’ll only make you a little horny.” 

You knew better, you knew that taking a damn aphrodisiac before a party was a messy move. Especially since you’re here with Hyunjin. Your friends are always teasing the two of you, asking why you’re so close or why he’s always over at your place and spending the night. They blame all of Hyunjin’s unexplained hickies on you. It’s to the point where everyone that knows the two of you thinks that you’re fucking. And they’re right, you are. 

“Is he allowed to do that?” Changbin sneaking up next to you pulls your attention away from Hyunjin, basically dry humping some girl on the dance floor. The smirk on his face said it all, he’s trying to get you worked up. Contrary to what everyone else might think you're not the jealous type, neither of you are. You’re more than happy to share.

“You mean is my friend allowed to dance with girls?” You steal a glance back towards Hyunjin, he’s so close to her. Is he going to kiss her? Will you be able to contain yourself if he does? You press your thighs together at the thought of it. “Of course he is.”

“When will you two admit that you’re dating?” The smirk on Changbin’s face as he stares down at you, drink in his hand and that damned black shirt stretched over his chest and biceps just right makes you feel something that you never have towards him. Of course he’s hot, you always thought that but right now the thought of having him bend you over this bar and fuck you dumb in the middle of this party is all that is looping through your head. 

“If we were dating.” You turn to him, stepping so close that your chest is practically pressed against his. “This would be a problem.” The glass in your hand is quickly forgotten on the bar as you ghost your fingers up Changbin’s arm and rub over his strong shoulder. “But it’s not, look.”

He breaks your gaze for a second, glancing over to Hyunjin who’s way too busy swapping spit with the pretty black haired girl to notice you trying to seduce his friend. 

“So you’re not dating him?” His glassy eyes search yours, you’re both clearly tipsy. 

“Nope.” The feeling of Changbin’s hand on your waist makes you moan involuntarily. You need something, anything, to take the edge off. Every little touch makes you feel like you could come undone. He leans in and ghosts his lips against your neck. You gasp and your lips part, your eyes rolling back in your head and your body arching into him. How can something this small make you feel so hot?

“How drunk are you? You’re so sensitive.” The breath of his whisper sends chills down your spine. 

“I’m not drunk.” Changbin pulls back enough to meet your gaze.

“What are you then? I touched you and you moaned.”  You blush and look away. Your bold attitude has abandoned you tonight. 

 "I'm just really turned on." He smirks and pulls back completely, leaving you wanting more. His gaze shifts over to Hyunjin quickly before meeting your pleading eyes again.

“You want help taking care of that?”  His dark eyes twinkle in the ambient party lighting and you can’t help but to feel needy for him or anyone else at this point. It’s a surprise that your arousal isn’t dripping down your legs. A nod and a not so subtle lip bite is all that you offer him before he cups your face and pulls you closer. You close your eyes as he leans in.

“I need to hear you say yes.” The brush of his lips against yours as he whispers against your lips pulls another whimper from you. 

“Yes, please help me, Binnie. Please.” His lips are pressing to yours in an instant. Hungry and sweet just how you needed him to be. You melt into his touch, sighing into the kiss and pressing your thighs together with all of the force that you have in you. His lips are so soft, how would they feel sucking on your - wait, who’s pressing into your back? A large hand glides up your thigh and over the curve of your hip, squeezing the fabric of your tight skirt as it rides up a bit. You could recognize his touch any day, it never fails to light your whole body on fire. 

“So horny you had to beg my friend to fuck you?” How long has Hyunjin been there? How much did he hear? Do you even care? You push back into him, grinding against his hard bulge. “Do I need to take you home?”

A whine escapes you as Changbin pulls away from you, a smile on his plump glossy lips as he looks between you two. “So you are dating.” You grab Changbin’s wrist as he tries to move his hand from your waist. You want more, you need it so badly. So desperately. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Hyunjin shakes his head, wrapping his other arm around your waist and splaying his fingers over your stomach. “But she is mine.”

“I knew it.” Changbin picks up his drink from the bar, shaking his head at the two of you. 

“It looks like you’re taken care of.” He nods towards Hyunjin who smiles at him and mutters a quick good-bye to his friend. He doesn’t care if Changbin kissed you because he’s the one who will be balls deep in your cunt soon. You frown watching Changbin walk away but the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips on your neck makes the world around you fade away. He hasn’t even done anything to you and you can already feel the fucked out fog setting in.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

You usually didn’t mind going to parties that were a bit further from your apartment but right now you hated it. Every second that passed with Hyunjin’s hand rubbing at your thigh made you want to explode. He wasn’t doing any better, he kept shifting in the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He’s just as desperate and needy as you, he just seems to be handling it better.

“How was it?” His voice snapped you out of your dirty daydream. How long have you been staring out of the window?

“What?”

“Kissing Changbin.” His eyes stay on the road and his voice is calm despite the uncomfortable strain of his cock against his jeans.

“It was good, really good.” All he offers is a smirk as he shifts again. Did he think it was hot? Did he enjoy seeing you kiss his friend? “How about that girl? How was she?”

“Eh, she really likes using tongue. I only like doing that with you.” 

Before you can stop yourself your mind is wandering to the moment right before the party when you and Hyunjin both started feeling the effects of the chocolate. His hands were in your hair and yours were up his shirt as your tongues explored each other's mouths in the front seat of the car. You were on top of him, straddling his growing erection and grinding your dripping core against the rough denim of his jeans. You both almost decided to leave the party, you were seconds away from turning right around and going home so he can fuck you senseless but when you asked him he gave you that devious smile. “What? Are you scared you’ll be too horny for the party? I dared you remember? You can do it, come on.” 

“Hyunjin.” You spread your legs a bit in your seat. The cool air hitting the wet spot on your panties sent a shiver through you. You feel so antsy and needy, desire is crawling wildly under your skin and you can’t take another second of it. You need him. “Jinnie, will you please touch me?” 

He stole a quick glance your way. Hissing through clenched teeth when he noticed the wet spot on your gray panties. “Baby, I’m driving.” His hand stayed on your thigh, it squeezed the soft flesh much harsher than he meant to but you enjoyed every second of it. You hiked your skirt up your thighs until it slipped over the curve of your ass, resting around your waist and leaving your wet cotton panties exposed. 

“Jinnie look ‘m so wet for you, please.” You’ve never felt as desperate as you do right now. Your nipples are pebbled underneath your shirt, your clit is swollen and the only thought in your head is having Hyunjin on you. You want him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Any and all of him. “I can’t wait, I need you, look what you did to me.”

You hook your finger into the gusset of your panties and lift it up and over just as Hyunjin glances over at your core. The sight before him could’ve made him swerve off of the road if he didn’t have any self control. You’re soaked, strings of sticky arousal are connecting your panties to your pussy and all he wants to do is lick up every drop of that sweet slick from your folds. 

“Fuck.” His hand moves from your thigh to rub over his aching erection. “I did that to you, angel? You’re soaked for me? Want my cock to fuck you dumb?” He bites his lip, a moan falling from his parted lips as he nearly misses his turn.

“Move your panties a bit more, let me feel you.” If there were an award for keeping your cool while driving as horny as a pornstar, Hyunjin would definitely win it. His driving is smooth, he’s barely missing a single sign, and his eyes are trained on the road while his pointer and middle finger circle soft figure eights over your erect clit. “Want my fingers in this pussy?”

He trails down and teases your entrance, just barely giving you the tip of his finger. Your head falls back against the seat and Hyunjin thanks his lucky stars that he’s approaching a traffic light. When he stops and looks over at you, he thinks that you couldn’t be more beautiful. Your eyebrows are pinched together and your pretty eyes are glistening with tears that threaten to fall from your puffy lids. Your lipstick is smudged ever so slightly while your bottom lip is caught firm between your teeth. Your arms are hooked under your knees to give him better access to your sopping cunt. A true masterpiece.

“Beg me to fill you with my fingers, baby. You have until the light changes.” 

“Please let me feel your fingers, Hyunjin. I’ll be so good for you, I’ve been so good. I’ll suck your cock when we get home, I promise. Please, please, please Jinnie. I n-need you, I need you to fuck my pussy open. I need to be stretched for you. This pussy is yours and I need you to fuck it. I w-want it. I-I’ll be so good for you I’ll -” A smile spreads wide across his face as he listens to you babble and beg so mindlessly. You trip over almost every word as your pussy clenches around nothing. He couldn’t help but to chuckle, not the cute kind that brings you comfort. No, this was the dark one, the one that means that he’s going to ruin you once he gets the chance.

“Light changed.” His fingers breach your entrance at the same time that his foot lets up on the brake. “Such a good little pornstar. Begging for my fingers in the car.”

“F-fuck, fuck fuckfuck oh my - my fuck.” Nothing makes sense in your head, you’re not even sure what you’re saying. Are you breathing? Once his long fingers curled into your g-spot the mist in your brain turned into a blinding dark fog. It feels so good, he feels so good. His fingers fuck into you at just the right pace, you can feel your arousal running down your inner thigh as he brings you closer to the edge. Your brows pinch together as another feeling sneaks up on you. An aching pressure that you were barely aware of before but can not seem to ignore now. “Hyun-Hyunjin wait I- gotta, gotta pee.” 

You meant to use the bathroom before the two of you left but Hyunjin rushed you out of the party so quickly that you forgot. “Go ahead, make a mess for me.”

The two of you were no stranger to water sports but you’ve never done such a thing in his car. “Are you-” You cut yourself off with a moan and Hyunjin nods, already knowing what you’re going to ask, he’s more than sure. 

“Make a mess for me, angel. I want your piss on my leather seats. Can you do that for me? Squirt and piss all over my car.” What left your lips was barely a moan, it was more like a desperate cry as he abused your sweet spot. “Come on, baby. Show me how good it feels.” 

You’re way too concentrated on the pleasure burning through you to notice that the car just stopped. Hyunjin found a relatively dark and empty lot to stop in so he could enjoy the show. If there’s one thing that he loves it’s when you two get messy. He’s the happiest when you're squirting all over his cock or pissing while you ride his thigh or his face. 

He keeps a steady pace while his thumb flicks over your swollen clit, milking everything you have to offer from you. His free hand rubbed over his clothed cock as he watched you with dark low lidded eyes. He wants nothing more than to fuck his fist to the sight of you but he choses to build himself up instead. He wants to bust inside of you, filling you to the brim with his sticky seed. 

“C-cumming I’m - I’m cumming i’m cumming.” He curls his fingers into you, milking your fluttering walls as a rush of arousal squirts from your swollen cunt. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing his four fingers over your cunt and making a mess of your fluids. 

“Piss all over me, baby. That’s it.” The pressure in your bladder lets up as you let go. A mixture of squirt and piss coated the windshield and radio in front of you as Hyunjin rubbed at your pussy. “Gimme another one.” 

His fingers are plugging your hole again before you can protest. “Jin- Jinnie so good ‘s so g-good.” If you were watching yourself from the outside looking in you wouldn’t be able to recognize the babbling mess in the passenger seat as yourself. You’ve been needy before but you’ve never been this fucked out and foggy. What the hell was in that chocolate? “Cum, cum, gonna- fuck.”

You’re squirting all over his hand again, your moans and cries fill the car and Hyunjin is absolutely positive that you’d have a full audience if there were anyone nearby with the way that you’re screaming for him. “That’s my fucking pornstar right there, look at this fucking mess baby. You’re soaked in your own cum and piss. So nasty for me.” He watches in delight as you tremble and moan, your body shaking as you come down from your high.

“More, more please please please. Let me have your cock. I wan’ suck it, let me please.” He smirks as you beg for him, your body trembling against the damp leather of the seat and your mouth wide open in pleasure. 

“If you touch me I’ll fucking bust.” You unbuckle your seatbelt hastily. Climbing up to your knees with the grace of a baby deer against the soaked seat. “You just can’t wait huh? Need to taste my cum?”

You nod, fucked out and frantic as you lean over the middle console and fumble with his belt buckle. He leans back, one hand tracing your spine lightly while the other rests behind his head. He loves watching you be dumb and needy for him, he doesn't get to see it often so he came up with the dare to get what he wanted. He knew what the chocolate would do to you, he’s taken it before and he knows how bad it can get. When he showed it to you and you said that you’d try it someday he got excited. He was curious if it could get him his desired outcome. He wanted to know if it’ll make you his brainless slut, looks like it worked. 

“Come on, angel gotta get my cock in your mouth.” You whine at his teasing, licking your lips and fumbling with frustration until you finally free his rock hard dick from his jeans, no boxers underneath for easy access of course. You hum at the sight of it, immediately licking up the pre-cum leaking from the angry tip. “Shit.”

The hand that was once behind his head grabs a handful of your hair and he tries his best to contain himself. He didn’t want to let his guard down yet, he’s been waiting until you get home but your pretty warm mouth wrapped around his cock just might make him as needy as you are. “Baby, baby, baby you’re gonna make me nut. I’m gonna cum down that pretty tight throat, fuck.”

You take all of him, allowing his tip to abuse the back of your throat as you moan around him. “Oh, I want to be that deep in your fucking cunt. You gonna let me? Gonna let me ruin that pussy when we get to your place?” He’s practically fucking your throat now as his hips thrust up involuntarily. He can’t help but chase the pleasure. You feel so good and he’s five times more sensitive than he usually is. 

“Swallow around that cock, swallow my dick. Yes, fuck yes just like that, that’s my girl.” The moment that your throat contracts around him he can feel himself tipping over the edge. With his head thrown back, a death grip in your hair and his eyes shut tight he slurs dirty promises into the air while shooting ropes of cum down your throat.

“Swallow it, take all my fucking cum. Oh shit, baby swallow every drop of my fucking seed. You’re such a slut letting me - fuck - letting me make a mess in this tiny throat. Fucking hell I’m so addicted to you.” You swirl your tongue around his shaft and tip as you lift up off of him. A single string of spit connects you to his cock but it’s swiftly broken when Hyunjin grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. Your tongues explore each other's mouths as you swallow each other’s moans. 

 Your hand wraps around Hyunjin’s cock, still hard as a rock, milking a deep moan from him as he pulls away from your swollen lips, you watch Hyunjin's eyes roll back in pleasure. He runs his hands through your hair, as he pants and stares into your eyes. He’s just as cloudy and fucked out as you are now. All that’s going through his head is you. He needs to feel you, to fuck you dumb until you fall apart on his cock and soak the mattress with your cum.

“S-stop, baby.” His words barely make it past his clenched teeth but even if they did you wouldn’t have listened. “Stop.” This time the hiss in his voice catches your attention. He grabs your wrist, ripping you away from his cock.

“I need to get you home.” His dark eyes bore into yours. The intense lustful energy swirling around the two of you and fogging the windows makes you feel dizzy as you  listen to him. “Sit.”

You obey immediately, sitting back in your wet seat and shivering at the cool damp feeling. Hyunjin fixes himself but he doesn’t allow you to do the same. “You were just pumping my cock like a desperate slut, so sit there like a messy whore for me, okay? Keep that pretty pussy on display.”

A cock drunk smile pulls at your lips as you fasten your seat belt and settle into your seat. It doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to pull off, driving at the exact speed limit in hopes that he can get home quick and safe. You’re not too far from your apartment, it hasn’t been more than ten minutes since your last orgasm but it feels like it’s been forever since you’ve felt his hands on you. He’s noticed you shifting in your seat and rubbing your hands up and down your thighs, desperate for any type of attention. A smile adorns his flushed features as he gets closer to your place. 

“Angel, I know what can keep you busy.” His eyes stay on the road but yours immediately fly over to him, scanning his features as you listen closely. 

“Touch yourself and tell me everything that you wanted Changbin to do to you. Tell me all the dirty thoughts you had when he had his hands on my girl.” You push your thighs together, squirming in your seat. You had completely forgotten about your kiss with Changbin and how desperate you were to feel his hands on you and have him inside of you. 

“Hyunjin I don’t know if I can handle that, I just want you, baby.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. 

“I won’t touch you anymore unless you do it.” You whine, throwing a tantrum against your seat. Hyunjin’s hand grabs your thigh, squeezing the flesh harshly and warning you to stop. With a smile on his face he glances over at you. You’re only four blocks away from your apartment.

“Come on, baby. I dare you.”

[munsster]

Hi I just read fixer user and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 💖💖

an act of true love

A/N: (your pfp made me scream and curl my toes) an unexpected amount of ppl rlly enjoyed this dynamic. i suppose i have found my people 🤭 (gif creds: @kingofscoops)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: In the dead of winter, there’s absolutely nothing that could keep you warm. After all, only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), mention of toxic ex boyfriend, cursing, gross flirting

Steve can hear you shivering through the receiver and your stuttered breaths crackling through the cord. You’re begging him to come over and fix your radiator in the middle of a snow storm. The roads aren’t closed yet, but a thin white powder blankets his front lawn and the top of his beemer and he can see the flakes whipping through the stream of light pouring from the streetlamp. So, he piles every blanket he has into his passenger seat and braves the drive to your house.

Does he know how to repair a busted radiator? No.

Is he determined to do anything you require of him? Every single day for the rest of his life.

He’s crouched by the window of your living room, looking for any telltale signs of wear or leaking. You’re standing just behind him, bundled in two blankets and holding a spare flashlight. He’s quiet as he tinkers, but your mind is racing watching his soft toned arms through his cream thermal and his back muscles working when he turns over his shoulder to glance at you with a dashing smile. You nod quickly when he says something, though you’re not exactly sure what.

“Sweetheart?” he coos, raising his brows when you recoil under his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t listening,” you say with a chuckle. He grins, dropping his head in understanding.

“Sorry, I know it’s boring,” he says, “but has it been making noises or anything?”

“Oh, yeah! It kinda groans when I first turn it on and it sounds like it might explode for the first couple minutes. I guess I’ve tuned it out by now.”

“That’s probably not a good sound then,” he teases, turning back to the radiator with a puzzled look.

“No, probably not.” You shuffle off to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove and humming softly.

After half an hour of tinkering and a roll of tape, Steve stands and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“That should do it! It’ll probably take a sec to heat up again,” he sighs, and you emerge from the kitchen, balancing two hefty mugs brimming with whipped cream. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. Secret family recipe,” you tease. In actuality, it’s just the standard package of chocolate powder and sugar. The secret lies in the healthy dash of cinnamon you mix into it.

“Secret, eh? Guess that gives me a reason to come see you more often,” he hums, following you to the couch and taking one of the mugs from your hands. It warms him up nicely, and he knows you gave him the bigger mug on purpose when you smile triumphantly. He takes a sip, moaning at the sweetness. You giggle at the whipped cream kissing his top lip.

“I hope I’m reason enough,” you say with a faux pout. He sits close enough to share the pile of blankets with you, your thighs pressed against one another in the captured heat.

“Duh, you’re the main attraction,” he huffs, “Your hot chocolate is like the flashy side show. It’s pretty neat but not quite as cool as the reason you bought the ticket.”

You giggle into your mug, face hot in the bellowing steam. Or because of his dimpled cheeks. Or the way his eyes swoop over your face. Or maybe the way he came rushing to your rescue in a storm without a second thought.

“Any new Brad-related developments? Or is he still giving you shit?” he says, swallowing a warm gulp of liquid chocolate.

You groan, head lulling back against the couch. “He keeps calling to say I’m a cold hearted bitch and then immediately hang up. I think he forgot that he’s the one who broke up with me.”

“Right, right. Why’s that again?”

“Something about his family’s values. And how he hates my friends,” you say, “I just remember getting mad because he seemed so jealous and mistrusting. Honestly, in hindsight, he was really childish about the whole thing.”

You shrug it off, but it snaps his heart in two all over again. He doesn’t even want to know the gorey details because he knows it’ll boil his blood. Just knowing that asshole said something like that to you makes his fists ball up in frustration. But he thinks of what you said. What did Brad have to be jealous about; he had the entire world and Steve never bat an eye. Not to you, at least.

“Jealous?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he’d give me all these ultimatums where I’d have to choose between you and him. So random,” you huff. Though, maybe he was justified in some way. You and Steve have been this close since the day you met. Any love interest would feel threatened by his charm and that smile.

“Oh… weird”—He watches you take a cautious sip from your mug like maybe you regret saying anything at all—“Yeah. That’s random. Had no idea I posed such a threat to that guy. He seemed so… self-assured.”

You stare blankly, shrugging when you mutter, “you can call him a narcissistic prick, i don't care. And yeah, I was kinda surprised the first time he brought it up, because a big part of why I was attracted to him was for his confidence” you chuckle, “No idea what went wrong!

Steve absentmindedly squares his shoulders, sitting up straught on the plush cushions trying to make himself look strong and reliable and confident. You sip your hot chocolate and look at him funny.

“Are you okay?” you say, holding in a laugh.

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m just super confident ‘s all.”

You snort, choking on the sip you’d sucked down, pinching your eyes closed when he lurches forward with a worried look slapped across his face.

“Shit, here, let me help,” he huffs, setting his mug aside and wiping the drips from your chin with his sleeve, “Oh, god, are you hurt???”

You cackle with tears pricking in your eyes when he carefully takes your mug and places it next to his. You pat dry your neck, and he watches you softly.

“Stevie, you’re so sweet.”

His heart flutters in his warm chest when you smile at him.

“Well, I dunno about that.”

“No, seriously. You’re so caring and thoughtful, I’ve never met anyone like you,” you whisper.

He takes a shaky breath in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You nod heartily and grin wide, and you notice he’s staring at you. So you kick his calf under the blanket.

“Hey, ouch!”

You giggle, but he’s quick to grab the crook of your knee and tug you close so you’re laying flat on the couch. Your hands cover your face when he tickles your sides and leans over you playfully. He’s almost glad you can’t see him blushing or feel his heart racing or hear his head booming with thoughts of you. He gasps when you plant your socked foot on his thigh, but he holds your elbow gently to keep you close to him while he leans over you.

You’re laughing, and he can confidently say it’s his favorite sound. You palm his chest, and he takes a deep breath in. Your eyes flick open because you’ve never felt someones heart beat so fast and so warm just beneath your fingertips. He’s flushed and pink but he looks like a prince in the orange lamplight. And he’s so close to you.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve huffs, standing and backing away, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should go!”

He crosses the floor in a daze, forcing his feet back into his shoes before you even can sit up and call after him.

“Steve, wait!”

But he’s shaking his head and reaching for the ice cold door handle with his jacket barely slung over his shoulders. He whips the door open, and you can see the pure white snow floating down in sheets outside.

“Keep the blankets! Just call me if the radiator breaks again, and I’ll see you!”

The door slams shut.

You tut, hand coming to your lips as you look around at the scene before you. The abandoned mugs on the coffee table, his blankets folded over the back of the couch, your repaired radiator whirring softly in the corner. The absence of Steve. What would the kids say. You know they’d lose it, but would they be upset if you ended up together. Would they realize they changed their minds and you’d jeopardized not only your friendship with Steve but with the entire party.

What if everything changes?

Oh, but what if nothing changes: you and Steve tip toeing around each other, the kids scheming and giggling at your misfortune, but now changed by the fact that you’ve kissed Steve. And he kissed you back. And you like him so much.

"Oh, god.”

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[misspygmypie]

Gourmet Disaster Cookies - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Warning: None Summary: Lando and you bake cookies. What could go wrong?

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando’s eyes narrowed at the mess sprawled across the kitchen table. Flour dusted the counter like snow, sugar was scattered like confetti, and an oversized mixing bowl sat in the middle, its contents a questionable shade of brown. Despite the chaos, the smell of fresh-baked cookies wafted through the air, combined with the scent of his frustration.

“Stupid. So stupid. My God. I’m so done with your shit,” he mumbled, shaking his head in exasperation. His dark curls were a mess from running his hands through them repeatedly, flour sprinkled in.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Lando with a barely contained smile. “I don’t think you’re actually done with this,” you said, voice dripping with amusement.

Lando shot you a look that could’ve murdered you. “I’m not doing this again,” he said firmly, though you both knew his words were empty threats.

It had started as a simple suggestion: baking cookies together on a lazy Saturday. You had hoped it would be a relaxing activity, a way to spend time together. What you hadn’t anticipated was Lando’s complete lack of ability to produce anything edible in the kitchen.

He had, with great enthusiasm, insisted on making cookies from scratch. You had watched, bemused, as he struggled to measure ingredients, with flour explosions and sugar spills becoming a regular occurrence. The recipe seemed to mock him with each step. When it called for “a pinch of salt,” Lando had interpreted it as “a handful,” resulting in cookies that were both salty and sweet in the most bewildering way.

“Well, you see,” you said, strolling over and peeking into the mixing bowl, “the recipe called for way less salt for starters.”

Lando sighed dramatically, slumping onto one of the barstools that wasn’t covered with some kind of ingredient. “I swear, I followed the instructions. But you were too busy talking about how we should add extra chocolate chips…”

“Hey, extra chocolate chips were a great idea!” you interrupted, though you knew his complaint was valid.

He shot you an incredulous look. “Yes, extra chocolate chips in cookies that taste like cardboard was definitely a great idea.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his defeated expression. “Well, you did say you wanted to make them ‘extra special.’”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I wanted them special, not… whatever this is.”

You crossed the kitchen and gently nudged him with your elbow. “Well, how about we try to salvage the situation? Maybe turn this into a fun, new recipe? Like ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies’?”

Lando’s expression softened, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Gourmet Disaster Cookies? Really?”

“Why not?” you said, reaching for the jar of sprinkles and shaking it over the remaining dough. “It’ll be a new culinary adventure.”

He watched, still skeptical but intrigued, as you turned the doughy catastrophe into a playful mess of sprinkles and smiles. “Alright, alright,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Next time, we’re sticking to pre-made cookie dough.”

You laughed and gave him a playful nudge. “Deal. But for now, let’s just enjoy our ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies.’”

The two of you sat down with the cookies, which were now covered in a generous layer of colorful sprinkles. The cookies were oddly shaped and unevenly baked, some corners almost charcoal black, some spots suspiciously raw looking - BUT the presentation was kind of festive. You took a bite, exaggeratedly savoring the taste.

“Not bad!” you said through a mouthful, trying to sell them to the curly-haired Brit watching you.

Lando took a cautious bite, and his face lit up in surprise. “You know what? These actually aren’t terrible. They’re weird, but… not terrible.”

As you both laughed and enjoyed the cookies, the kitchen mess seemed to fade into the background. The burnt edges and odd flavors were nothing compared to the joy of the shared experience.

After finishing off the batch, Lando stood up and stretched. “I can’t believe we actually ate those.”

You chuckled, tossing a stray piece of dough into the trash. “We did. And I think we might have created a new tradition.”

Lando grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Next time, we’re definitely using pre-made dough. But until then, I guess we’ve got our own ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies’ to remember.”

The day ended with the kitchen still looking like a war zone, but you didn’t mind. As you and Lando cleaned up together, your laughter echoed through the room, making the mess seem less like a disaster and more like a cherished memory.

In the end, it wasn’t about the cookies. It was about the moments you shared, the laughter, and the way even a cooking disaster could turn into a delightful adventure when you had the right partner.

[hotreadingwitch]

Bucky x Reader - Cabin Fever

Content Warnings/Kinks: age gap (dbf!bucky), daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, nipple play, light spanking, masturbation, fingering, cum swallowing, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex

Cabin Fever

The weekend getaway ahead loomed before Y/n like a giant shadow as she drove on the snowy backroads. Was she glad to be spending the holidays at her father’s winter cabin, of course, but was she happy to see his mysterious (and massively sexy) best friend, Bucky Barnes, not so much. The pair had been colleagues for a little while now, since Bucky had transferred to her father’s firm, and Y/n had only met him once before at her Dad’s Fourth of July barbecue earlier in the year. Fireworks had immediately flown between them when they had, causing Y/n to lock down the blooming feeling of romance quickly before it could ruin everything from her father’s perspective of his “little girl” to her own sanity. If she thought for even one second about how much she liked Bucky Barnes and truly wanted Bucky Barnes, she feared she might just crash her car. 

A call came through the speaker of her vehicle then, her father Steve’s familiar voice crackling through, “Y/n?” 

“Dad?” She answered with a light laugh, “Where are you right now a dungeon? Your service is awful” 

“Sweetheart the snowstorm is blocking the highway, I won’t make it up to the cabin until morning, I’m gonna stay at a motel tonight…” he said, his voice sad like he hated to miss out, “It’ll just be you and Bucky for the first night, hopefully, that won't be too much trouble”

“Why would that be any trouble Dad?” Y/n’s voice sounded strained, even to her. 

Her father paused, “I know you don’t like him Y/n—no don’t interrupt me—it’s okay, you don’t have to, I just hope you two can get through the night together peacefully…it is the Holidays after all”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, “Alright Dad, yeah, I’ll see you in the morning”

When she finally pulled up to the snow-trimmed cabin, she wasn’t surprised to see Bucky’s luxury car parked in one of the available driveway spots. 

“Hi,” she greeted once she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the crisp December cold and her arms full of wrapped gifts. 

“Let me help you with those” Bucky instantly offered, rushing over to her, their fingers brushing as he took some of the tissue-stuffed bags from her cramped hands and took them over to the tree. 

His eyes flicked to hers and she could’ve sworn she saw his own cheeks tint slightly red above his scruffy beard. 

“How was your drive?” He questioned after they’d arranged them, making easy conversation. 

“Not too bad, well better than Dad’s anyway” she winced slightly before breaking the news, “He’s blocked by the storm, won’t be here until tomorrow morning…it’s just us tonight” 

“You don’t seem so happy about that” Bucky cocked his head. 

“Bucky…” she hesitated. 

“I knew it” he breathed, almost to himself, “I knew you lik—“ 

“I need to take a work call” she blurted, interrupting whatever he was about to say. 

Y/n practically skidded out of the living room and down the hall to the room she’d be staying in for the weekend, that she’d been staying in all her life. Her Dad had luckily switched out her old twin bed for a queen a couple of years ago but that didn’t erase the memories she had here. The colourful quilt laid over the sheets, the rocking chair in the corner. Each element of the space was a comfort to her, especially now as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. 

“Fuck” she groaned to herself. 

~ an hour or two later ~ 

Snow was piling up outside as Y/n stewed in her bedroom, mulling over the situation she’d somehow found herself in. She liked Bucky and was stuck with him for the night but almost worse than that was the fact that he knew she liked him. Her groaning into her pillow was cut off by a small knock on her door. 

“Yes?” She croaked. 

“I’m making hot chocolate…” Bucky’s hesitant voice sounded through the wooden door, “I won’t bother you tonight if you don’t want but I just thought I’d ask” 

With a sigh, she walked over the door, opening it to find Bucky in a slightly distressed t-shirt and light grey sweatpants that hugged him perfectly in all the right places. She gulped, startled as she realized she was literally eye-fucking him instead of answering his innocent question. 

“Sure, I’d like some. Thank you” 

Following him into the kitchen, she found her gaze trailed from his toned figure to the wintery scene outside. The snow was packed almost halfway up the window, no doubt blocking the front door too. 

“Guess we’re stuck inside whether we like it or not” Y/n sighed with a small smile that she simply couldn’t help, causing Bucky to chuckle and shoot her a quizzical look. 

“Yeah” he replied easily, after pouring the hot liquid into two cups, “Here”

“Thank you, Bucky”

“Oh, no problem” he replied and Y/n swore she saw him blush again. 

They sipped on their hot chocolate, slowly draining the mugs in companionable silence. After a while, she attempted to break it. 

“How’s work?” she tried, grimacing at how awkward the question sounded. 

“You don’t really want to ask me about work Y/n” he stated plainly with a small sigh, the heated look in his eye deceivingly telling her exactly what he meant. 

“Bucky…” she strained, setting her mug down. 

“You keep saying my name but never in the way I’d like you to” he came toward her, his large frame instantly consuming the small space of the cabin’s kitchen, “I know you want me Y/n and I’m sure you can see I want you…” 

Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, a small moan slipping out of her mouth at the sight of his hard cock in his cozy sweatpants. 

“Stop worrying about what your Dad might do and kiss me” he challenged, putting it all out there. Her surprise must have been evident on her face because Bucky backed off immediately, “Unless that’s not what you want” 

His sweet hesitance was all it took for Y/n to practically throw herself at him, cutting his words off with a passionate kiss that melted instantly from incredibly heated to perfectly warm like their mugs of steaming hot chocolate. As they kissed, with Y/n’s small groans and whines puncturing each break, Bucky’s hands felt up and down her sides making her skin tingle with need.

“Can I touch you?” He asked before gripping her hips harder and backing her toward the counter’s edge, “And please say I can taste you…”

“Yes, please Bucky, yes” 

He lifted her easily onto the flat surface, shoving boxes of cereal and bags of marshmallows out of the way, until her ass was fully seated on the counter. She pushed herself up slightly so that he could slip off her pants and her panties, moaning as his cold hands slid down her thighs. He sunk to his knees before her, gazing up at her like she was a golden star on top of the Christmas Tree. His beard tickled her legs as he worked his way up, kissing her calf, the inside of her knee, and her inner thighs.

“Be good and spread your legs for me, yeah, let me see that pretty pussy” he hummed at the sight of her as she obeyed. 

He came forward and kissed her clit gently before rubbing the sensitive area with a single finger. He paused, looking up at her from his spot between her thighs, admiring her flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She whined at the loss of contact. 

“You know what I want Y/n?” he cocked his head, pulling away and sitting back on his tucked legs below her before saying in an encouraging yet dark tone, “I want to see you rub yourself for me…Go on”

She spit onto her fingers and began to rub her clit, using them to please herself. Her eyes met his as she caressed around and around her sensitivity, a quiet whimper slipping out of her lips at the sight of his darkening gaze focused all on her. The building feeling made her sigh and throw her head back, a dull thud sounding as it hit the upper cabinet behind her. 

“What if I help you out a little bit huh?” Bucky groaned as if he couldn’t resist touching her. 

“Yes” she moaned, “Bucky pleas—“ 

Her words were cut off by the feeling of his two longest fingers pressing at her wet hole. Her pussy practically gushed around him as he entered her, only pushing halfway. His teasing fingers grazed her insides, curling up inside of her. 

“Keep rubbing your clit baby” he guided her hand back down. 

She obeyed, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure they were creating for her together. His curling fingers, her fierce rubbing at her clit…she was overcome with intense sensation. Using her other hand she trailed up her chest, acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes following her motion, pinching her nipples in turn until they hardened into two stiff peaks. 

“Good girl” he praised before asking, “You want my mouth?” 

Her small nod was all he needed to push her hand off of her clit and lap harshly at it, never once removing his fingers from her hole. His attack on her pussy was intense and erotic to watch, the sight of him eating her out turning her on almost as much as the actual feelings. Y/n’s thighs caged his head between her legs, her knees moving to sit behind his head, feet resting on his back as he pleased her with his rough, wet tongue.

“Oh fuck” she whispered, her hands gripping his curls tightly as he found the perfect spot. 

“There?” he questioned, his words muffled as he sucked her clit, lapping at it. 

“Yes, fucking yes” 

He chuckled, cool air making her shiver before continuing, licking at the same spot, not right on her clit but slightly to the side, a spot that was nearly as sensitive and pleasurable, until her body gave out and she burst all over his tongue. His large hands supported her thighs from below, hooking his arms over them, pulling her pussy to his mouth as she rode out the waves of her release. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl” he grumbled. 

Moving quicker than a flash, he lifted her up and took her out of the kitchen, leading them all the way to her bedroom. As they moved through the house, Y/n attacked his neck, wet sloppy kisses peppering his tanned skin. He pushed the door to her room open with his side, being careful not to hurt her, before throwing her down on the bed. He stood at the edge, towering over her. Bending over her, his beard tickled her cheek as he continued his trail of kisses on her neck. With gentle pecks he made his way to her jaw, down her to her chest, satisfying the need of her nipples. 

“Flip around for me doll” he commanded then, praising her when she complied, “Yeah that’s it, good girl” 

SMACK. A small spank on her ass cheek made her whimper, the feeling hurting slightly but in the best way. 

“You want it?” Bucky asked, confirming her consent as he pumped himself behind her. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and full of need. 

“Yes, who?” His tone instantly darkened. 

“Yes Daddy” she whispered like a secret. 

SMACK. 

“Say it like you mean it Y/n” he chuckled roughly, “Like the good little slut I know you are” 

“Yes Dadd—“ 

Her words were cut off by the loud moan that escaped her lips as Bucky pushed into her, pressing the first few inches of him into her wet pussy. She gripped him tightly as her body adjusted to the sensation. He pressed and pressed and pressed until finally, he bottomed out within her. 

“Fuck you fit me so well” 

Bucky’s cock hit a spot deep within her that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her back arched, shoving her ass back into him, making him hit even further inside. His grin was feral as she bounced onto him, her instant rocking movements pleasuring them both. 

“So good Y/n,” he praised, grunting, “Yeah, push back on me baby…Fuck this ass is perfect”

SMACK. 

The pain heated her skin as did the feeling of his eyes on her. She wasn’t even looking at him but she could physically feel the weight of his dark gaze. Grinding back onto him she whimpered and whined, her pussy tightening around him more and more by the second. 

Y/n yelped as she was flipped easily over onto her back. Before she could even get her bearings, Bucky’s thumb was instantly on her clit, rubbing that spot that made her see stars. If she thought she was clenching around him before she surely was now. Between Bucky thrusting in and out of her and his fingers on her sensitive clit, her senses were going into overdrive. 

“Fuck” she whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, “You’re fucking me so good”

Burying his head in the crook of her neck, Bucky moaned roughly, his gruff noises making her wetter and wetter. She writhed beneath him, her body responding to every way he was pleasing her. As she approached her orgasm though, he switched his pace, thrusting slowly, powerfully, and deeply, causing her to tense up around his hard cock. She gripped him so tightly she thought she might just push him out of her by accident. 

“So tight for me—yes, taking every fucking inch like a good little slut” 

“Yes, Daddy, yes” she moaned as he sucked at her skin. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy for so long” he confessed, whispering in her ear, “Ever since—fuck— that fucking Fourth of July party, I’ve wanted to feel you, to be in you just like this…” 

Her eyes widened at his reveal but she was so overwhelmed by the feeling that she could barely speak, she simply whined in response, meeting his assessing gaze as she arched beneath him. The feeling struck her body then, causing her to jerk forward. Bucky held her hips, continuing to thrust in and out of her with long strokes, fucking her completely through her orgasm.

“Yeah that’s it baby, cum for me” 

Y/n gripped his broad shoulders, holding him to her chest as he thrust through her orgasm, bringing on his own. He ground into her as he chased his own release, her hot pussy finally sending him over the edge.

“Fuck” she swore, catching her breath as Bucky rolled off of her. 

“Fuck is right” he chuckled. 

She could swear she saw a tint of red on his scruffy cheeks.

“You really liked me since then? Since the Fourth of July?” 

“Yes,” he admitted, bowing his head. 

She rolled back onto him, planting a sweet kiss on his jaw, then his cheek, then finally on his perfect pout. 

“Talk about fireworks huh?” She joked, making them both shake with laughter. 

[targaryenluvs]

OMG HUNGER GAMES!!!

Can i ask for a finnick odair with a winner female reader who she avoids but he is obsessed with and wants to marry in front of the whole capitol

Some dark-ish fluff

WANT AND DESIRE!

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: obession, stalking, nc kissing, forced engagement???

summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but it seems your fate had been signed as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him no matter how hard you tried.

a/n: i actual hate writing dark stuff cuz i never know if it’s decent, I DO FLUFF GUYS WE CAN TAKE THAT ROUTE 😭 NOT PROOF READ

you wondered what you were going to get.

all the pastries infront of you were mouthwatering and the aroma had your stomach growling.

“i’d recommend the dark chocolate cakes, they practically melt in your mouth. but maybe something as sweet as you wants a change?” and there it was, the voice and person you’d hoped to avoid. at such a large capitol party your hopes were high but it seemed as if the man had a radar, with your name on it.

“finnick, how are you?” you feigned interest as you turned his way.

“better, now that i’ve seen you.” he beamed at you, undeniably happy. it’s not as if you weren’t interesting at all, or ugly, but you truly had no idea why he was so infatuated with you. you’d never given him any signs, or at least you didn’t think you had, you’d hardly ever talked to him. even if everybody loved him, you could tell something, was off.

“how sweet of you. there are so many people here, best if i try my best to meet as many as possible, have a nice night finnick.” you dismissed him as you placed the cake down, yes it was petty but the fact that he’d suggested eating it deterred you even more-so than it’s insanely sickening contents. “i’ll come with you, the people would love it. the capitols diamond and darling. there’s not a single pair of victors as great of a duo as us sweetheart.”

and as he linked your arms together, you were off. you thought it’d be better to just go with him, stand and smile as he talked. it would give you a slight break at least, but after so much time greeting people your face was threatening to fall apart. so after an hour or so you’d excused yourself to the bathrooms, unknowing of the blonde on your trail.

“are you okay y/n?” finnicks voice asked sweetly as you lowered the towel you were using to pat down your face. “what’re you doing in here? the party’s down stairs finnick.” what did he want? you are so fucking tired of this party and just wanted to leave, you’d been here for hours already, long enough to know that it’d be appropriate to do so. and you may or may not have wanted to put as many kilometres between yourself and finnick. “i just wanted to make sure you were okay, everyone’s asking for us.”

“you, they’re asking for you. i’ve been here for a while, everyone’s seen me. you haven’t, they want you. and if you’d mind letting me exit.” as you tried to move past your wrist was caught in his tight grip. “they want to see us both sweetheart, trust me, we’re much better together. can’t you see? all of the capitol loves us together, even the districts.”

“i don’t care, if i’m going to marry someone it’ll be someone i actually like.” the door slammed shut as you walked away from him. finnick laughed, if there was thing he loved about you, it was your short temper. he walked after you, his hand clutching the velvet box in his pant pocket, he was going to propose one day, why not now?

as you made your way through the place, fake smiles aimed at everyone, finnick caught up to you. “y/n, please.” you turned around, “what? what is it?” you shouted as the party’s attention zeroed in on the two of you. you could her muttering of the people and shuttering of cameras.

this bitch.

he was down on one knee, a huge diamond ring rested in the middle of a box. his eyes glistened, teary eyed. was this dickhead really crying? as if he’d waited his whole life for this moment. “finnick-” you warned as you raised your hand, only for him to grab it and pull himself up. people were cheering and clapping as he wrapped his arms around you.

“i have loved you, since the moment i saw you. everything about you is my favourite thing, your smile, your laugh, your eyes- your gorgeous, gorgeous eyes. there’s no part of me that could go on without you. i love you so much sweetheart, so please put me out of my misery and marry me, you’re the only person i could ever imagine myself with.”

say yes!

what a lucky girl!

i knew they’d get together.

the crowd around you egged you on to accept. how could you not? finnick odair, tribute, youngest victor, terribly handsome and the capitols darling. a catch in everyone’s eyes but they couldn’t be further from the truth. a man who’d purposefully proposed infront of the capitol, knowing you could never say no. god knows what snow would do to you, let alone the capitol for breaking their favourites heart. you weren’t worried for yourself too much, you’d been a hollow shell ever since your games, but your family? your parents and siblings didn’t deserve to be killed.

“i know you’re in shock sweetheart, but i’ll take that as a yes.” finnick kissed your forehead and then slid the ring onto your finger.

the crowd is deafening and the flashes blinding.

and as he kissed you again, you couldn’t help yourself from crying. as everyone viewed it as tears of joy for being in love but you knew the truth about finnicks love for you. there was none.

just want and desire.

[lovebugism]

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜“i cant live without you” “don’t die on me, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet” “i lied i never hated you”

eddie x reader enemies to lovers 🥹🥹

pls enjoy this absolute heartache of a fic :D — you and eddie hate each other until he almost dies (angst, enemies to lovers, cw for mentions of gore, 1.1k)

“Wanna make out?” Eddie had asked you, some hours ago now, when you first arrived at the Upside Down version of Skull Rock. You’d just narrowly survived a gang of demobats, and the stale air smelled distinctly of copper pennies. He managed a smug smile anyway. “I mean, we might as well. Looks like we’re gonna die out here, anyway.”

You scoffed and rolled your tired eyes. The annoyance you felt for him then momentarily distracted you from the fear swirling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d rather,” you’d quipped.

You feel a little like you’ve prophesized something now.

Eddie bleeds out in your arms with a hundred little bites on his stomach that were supposed to be yours. He’d distracted the circling demobats when you twisted your ankle, too hurt to run away. And now he’s dying. And it’s all your goddamn fault.

You sit with him while Dustin rushes into the Creel House, in search of help from the older crew. You watch him attentively over your shoulder until he disappears behind the rotted front door. When you turn back to Eddie, you find his eyes have fluttered shut.

“Eddie—” you call for him, clearing your throat when it comes out garbled. “Eddie! Hey!”

“Hm…” he hums tiredly in response, eyes still shut.

You sigh with the subtle relief that he’s not dead. The breath catches in your chest. You try to fight away the panic attack clawing behind your ribcage, even though it makes everything around you seem more and more distant. You try to stay as present as you can despite the horrors swimming all around you — for Eddie The Freak Munson.

“You have to stay awake,” you tell him, voice thick with emotion. “Open your eyes.”

“I’m just… I feel a little tired right now,” he mumbles, slurring slightly. 

Your chest wrenches. He’s getting paler and paler by the minute. The tourniquet you made from the bottom half of your shirt is now soaked with deep red blood. Panic burns a wildfire in your chest because you’ve done everything you could think to do. 

You can’t lose him. That’s all you’re telling yourself now. You can’t lose him, you can’t lose him, you can’t lose him.

“I don’t care. Keep your eyes open, alright?”  Your heart wrenches again, with something short of hope this time, when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. They’re glassy and dilated, but the deep chocolate of them hasn’t changed. You muster a small smile. “There you go, Eds. There you go— Now, just keep talking to me, okay? Keep talking.”

“I’m tired,” he mutters under his breath, too weak to do anything more.

Your face screws together as you choke back a sob. You swallow down every instinct to cry. You’ll cry when this is over, you tell yourself, when Eddie’s safe and back in Hawkins.

“I know, Eddie. I know,” you babble through stinging tears. “But you gotta— you gotta keep talking, alright? It’ll help you stay awake. And I need you to… I need you to stay awake for me, okay?”

He nods. At least, you think he’s nodding, because the movement is terribly faint. 

His eyes fall shut again. You feel the loss of his melted chocolate gaze like a stab in the chest. Your hand grips his jaw, a little less than gentle.

“Eddie,” you bite through gritted teeth.

“Mm…”

“If you die, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.”

The familiarity of your aggression reminds him of home. He opens his eyes and cracks a small, barely-there smile. Blood glistens on his mouth. “I thought you hated me?” he slurs in an inaudible mumble.

“I do,” you tell him without thinking twice, laughing through the sob in your throat. “But I’ll love the shit outta you if we make it out of here together.”

Together, you say, because either both of you make it out or neither of you do. 

His grin widens softly, chapped and lopsided. “Metal,” he murmurs.

A whimper sounds in your throat when his eyes flutter shut again. “Eddie…”

“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathing sharply through his nose. 

It’s getting harder and harder for him to breathe. You can tell by the harsh rise and fall of his chest. There’s little oxygen getting to his brain, accompanied by the weeping bites on his stomach— where the fuck is Dustin Henderson?

“I don’t know if I…. If I’m gonna make it outta here, babe…”

Your chest tightens. He only ever called you babe to piss you off. You wonder if he’s still being the annoying asshole you knew back home or if the term of endearment is too engrained in his head.

“Don’t say that.”

“If I don’t—”

“Eddie.”

“If I don’t make it out,” he repeats, sterner this time. He drags a sharp breath in and opens his eyes, just barely. “I want you to know that I never… I never hated you… ‘M just a liar… And a total fucking coward…”

“You can make it up to me when we get back home, okay? You just gotta stay awake.”

His lip quirks into a faint, crooked smile. “I’ve been dyin’ to kiss you since ninth grade… Did you know that?”

“I know,” you nod with an emotional laugh.

“I did make it kinda obvious, didn’t I?”

“You can kiss me when you get better. I swear.”

Eddie nods. You feel him grow heavier and heavier in your arms. His smug smile starts to fade, and you panic. “Eddie? Eddie, don’t— don’t die on me, okay? Please. We haven’t— We haven’t gotten to the good part yet, asshole. You have to stay awake.”

You shift him in your arms, trying to sit him up more when he slumps. He does little to fight you. He doesn’t have the strength to anymore.

“‘M sorry, babe,” you hear him whisper.

“No— No, don’t— Don’t fucking say that,” you scold bitterly, less angry at him and more at the rest of the world. It should’ve been you lying here, after all, not him. You’d trade places in a heartbeat if you could. “You can’t die, you asshole! How am I supposed to— fucking— keep going without you annoying the living shit outta me?”

“Henderson’ll annoy you for the both of us,” he manages to joke as life spills from the weeping wounds on his stomach.

“Fuck that. It’s not the same— I need you, Eddie. I need you, okay? I can’t— I can’t fucking live without you,” you cry over his pale, bloodied body.

You hear yelling and a set of rushed footsteps. “Eddie!” Dustin calls as he dashes down the decrepit porch steps of the old home — with Steve, Nancy, and Robin following close behind.

The sight of them makes you sigh. Your chest starts to sparkle with a hope you’d thought you lost — damn near aching when Eddie’s glassy eyes flutter open once more. 

The fucker grins weakly up at you. “I knew you had a crush on me, babe.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Brighter, Sweeter Days

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!baker!reader

Summary: Tim comes to your bakery daily, and you try to brighten his day to get him to notice you. When he finally shows you he has noticed you, there's a lot you have to tell him.

Warnings: minor injuries, fluff!!!

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

A wave of hot air greets you as you open the oven. Pulling the cookie sheet from the left side and a muffin pan from the right, you smell the intermingled brown sugar, maple, and orange. After the hot pans have been safely placed on one of your bakery’s tables, you close the oven and remove your heatproof gloves.

“I really hope you have more maple biscotti because there’s a really cute firefighter and I can’t slip him my number if we can’t fulfill his order,” your employee, Melanie, rambles as she enters the heart of the bakery.

“Just pulled some out of the oven,” you answer. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we can box them, though. Offer to throw in a dozen free cookies or a coffee traveler.”

“Yes, chef!” she calls over her shoulder.

“And stop watching The Bear before work every day,” you murmur as you check the consistency of a new whipped buttercream.

Several years ago, you opened your bakery in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles, and remain shocked at how well it has done. There have been celebrities who travel hours just to try your creations based on the good word of a few locals, you’ve had to close at lunch more than once because you ran out of food, and yet you’ve only been in the front of the bakery a dozen times since opening.

You’re shy, passionate about baking, and less of a people person than most business owners, so you spend your days in the back as your dedicated employees create a friendly and welcoming environment for your customers to come in, enjoy the atmosphere, and try a delicious baked good or slow-roasted coffee.

After the morning rush, during which you make three cakes, drizzle white chocolate on your newest biscotti, and decorate sugar cookies, Melanie returns to the back of the bakery. She sighs and leans on a table.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

“Good. Seemed busier than usual, lots of law enforcement,” she explains, peeking into a mixing bowl.

“Those are scraps from cake pops,” you tell her. “Help yourself.”

“You’re an angel,” she sighs. “A walking, shy so not much into talking, angel.”

You roll your eyes and begin folding chocolate swirls into croissant dough. “And the firefighter?”

“He thought they’d love some coffee but refused to accept it without paying. So, I slipped an angel food cake and my number into his bag.”

You nod and continue working on the croissants, but when Melanie continues to watch you, you know there’s more she isn’t saying. Turning, you set aside the spatula and raise your brows.

“My psych professor moved our exam up and I can’t come in tomorrow,” she explains quickly. “I know it’s your busiest day and I’m so so sorry. I can ask around and see if Cass or somebody can cover me.”

You wave your hand and assure, “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Good luck on your exam, okay? If you want to leave early today to study or get some rest, do that, too.”

“Now I feel worse for leaving you.”

Tim turns his alarm off and sighs. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone. Lucy insisted on bringing cupcakes, and Angela offered to take him to lunch. Tim appreciates their kindness, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to truly celebrate with, besides Kojo, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, of course.

As Tim gets ready, he asks himself what he’d want if he was in a relationship. What would they do that would make today so different? Breakfast in bed is one of the first ideas that pops into his head. So, Tim searches for bakeries that aren’t far out of his way. One five-star option appears on the list, and Tim reads the directions as he walks to his truck.

As Tim walks in, he notices how nice the bakery is. There’s a line, but it moves quickly. He scans the menu on the large chalkboard over the counter as he waits, but he knows what he wants when his eyes drop to the display case.

An employee places another plate in the case, a birthday cake-flavored mini souffle that makes Tim smile. When he reaches the register, he forgets about the cookie that caught his attention.

You take another order and glance at the line. There are two times when you’re so busy it’s hard to remember to breathe, and you’re currently between those. Though you don’t love working here with customers, you do enjoy seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they find their new favorite.

Someone in the line catches your eye. He’s wearing an LAPD shirt, and you assume he’s a higher-ranking officer. He smiles as Mitch places a birthday cake souffle in the display case, and you wonder if it’s his birthday.

“Good morning,” you greet when he reaches the register. “What can I get you today?”

He hesitates for a moment, then asks for one of your jumbo cookies and two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Glancing at the menu, he also adds coffee to his order. You press the buttons for the two dozen cookies and the coffee, but make a note to include the jumbo cookie for free.

“Mitch,” you call when he passes again. “Take over for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” he tells you.

“I’ll grab that for you now,” you tell the attractive cop, whose name you now know is Tim.

“Thanks,” he replies before stepping to the side with his coffee.

You use clean plastic tongs to place thirty chocolate chip cookies in a branded box, then pull a jumbo cookie from the warmer. It’s already boxed, so you take a marker out of a nearby drawer and write Happy Birthday with a little candle drawn beside it. If it’s not his birthday, he’ll think it was the wrong box, but either way, you hope it’ll brighten his day. With the cookies placed in a bag, you hand it over the counter and thank Tim for coming in. You hope you’ll see him again. With your tendency to work in the back and the high number of one-time customers you get, you try not to get your hopes up.

The drive to the station is spent in silence. The radio is off as Tim enjoys what he considers the best cup of coffee. His mind continues to return to you, the cute girl at the bakery, who he could tell was a little shy. Your service was great, but you didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes or engage in small talk.

After parking in the station lot, Tim pulls his jumbo cookie from the bag. The birthday wishes make him smile, and he shakes his head as he wonders how you knew. Granted, it could have been the wrong box or something, but Tim prefers the idea that you did it special for him. The receipt is on the bottom of the box, and he pulls it away only to see that you gave him the cookie for free. Maybe it will be a good birthday, after all, he thinks.

Tim enjoys half of his cookie, then returns it to the box to save for later. Tim will most certainly be returning to the bakery because your smile and the taste of the coffee and the cookies together are pretty close to perfection.

Tim sets the cookies on a central table in the bullpen and opens the box. He can immediately tell that there are more than 24 cookies, and he shakes his head at your kindness.

“Happy birthday!” Lucy calls as she runs to his side.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, in a better mood than the last decade of birthdays combined.

“You’re back!” you cheer when Tim returns the following morning. Melanie called to tell you her exam went well, but she had to wait for the essay portion to be graded, and you invited her to rest at home one more day while she waited. So, you’re at the front again.

“I am. Thank you for the birthday note yesterday,” Tim replies, smiling. He has a gorgeous smile, you think. “How did you know?”

“I noticed you smile when the birthday cake souffle came out,” you explain softly, shrugging rather than providing more explanation.

“I really appreciate it. My coworkers loved the cookies, too.”

“I’m glad. You want to try something else today?”

Tim smiles, and you unconsciously move your fingers to the side of the register where you can include discounts and freebies.

“What do you recommend?” he inquires.

“Our maple pumpkin biscotti cupcakes are pretty well-loved. I like the chocolate swirl croissant,” you answer. “It’s new, but..”

“Then I’ll take thirty-six of those cupcakes and two of the croissants. On one condition.”

“Yes?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

“Let me pay for it this time.”

You nod once and type in the order. As Tim steps to the side, you begin helping the next customer and whisper to Mitch to give the officer a small coffee with the excuse of preparing it too soon for a pickup order.

“I’m paying for it,” Tim insists after it’s left on the counter.

You ignore him, smiling as you take another order, and Mitch gives him the bag of cupcakes.

“See you,” Tim calls as he leaves.

“Have a good day!” you call after him.

When you return to the kitchen around 10 a.m., you sigh and set out to make something you think Tim will love.

Over the next two weeks, Tim comes in daily. He gets something for the officers at this station or just a treat for himself, and on one busy morning, he says hello and orders a coffee. You look forward to seeing him each morning, finding an excuse to be at the front during his usual time. He is the kindest customer you have ever had, and you want to ask him out. Each morning, you give yourself a pep talk and get encouragement from Melanie or Mitch, then get shy and fail to tell him how you feel. So, you find a way to brighten his day and remind him you’re there and you see him. You slip him a freebie, give him a free coffee, charge him for a smaller size than what you give him, or ask him to test a new item and get back to you. If it’s not on the menu, I can’t charge you was your excuse for the last one.

As far as you can tell, he has noticed you. He comes in and immediately finds you or keeps his eyes on the kitchen door until you exit. Yet, he hasn’t said any more than you have. Eventually, one of you will say something… or so you hope.

You’ve slowly opened up but can’t speak more than a few sentences before you remember who you’re talking to and get shy again. Tim asks about you, how you’re doing, what your favorite menu item is, what you’ve baked recently, and you gladly listen when he tells you about himself in return. It seems like you're getting to know him, but you still want so much more.

One morning, nearly three weeks after meeting Tim, you glance at the clock again. He’s late. Or he isn’t coming. As you leave the counter and return to the kitchen, you make red velvet cupcakes for a large order and try not to think about Tim. You didn’t say anything for three weeks, there is no reason to assume that he had any real reason to come back.

Melanie enters the kitchen, and you look up hopefully, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sure he was just running late or had to go in early. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she says softly.

You shake your head and begin portioning the cake batter into muffin tins. Getting your mind off Tim will be hard; he’s consumed every one of your thoughts for nearly a month, but you have a business to focus on and more customers than the handsome sergeant who was your favorite daily customer until today.

 Several hours later, Mitch is on the phone when the chime over the door rings. You wave to him and walk out of the kitchen, then stop behind the register.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tim says.

You remain silent as you look at him. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, there’s a scrape over his eyebrow that looks recent, and the knuckles on his left hand are darkening. Based on his appearance alone, you assume he was late for a good reason.

“What can I get you?” you ask, breathless, as you move to stand behind the register. “It’s on the house.”

Tim smiles, and you have to remind yourself to listen. He orders your favorite, then places his hands on the counter and leans closer to you. You nod, then blink and ask him to repeat himself.

“Your favorite,” he says.

“How do you…”

“You told me. I remembered.”

You lick your lips before whispering, “Why?”

“The same reason I know that you hate working at the register because you’re shy and it drains your energy. You’d rather be in the back with your recipes and music than up here with customers. The reason I know you own this place but don’t advertise it because you don’t want the attention. All of that, all of you, is why I keep coming back. And I’m really hoping that those things will be why you say yes when I ask if you’ll go out with me.”

You swallow but can’t form words yet. Your answer is yes, of course, it is. When you open your mouth, though, you ask, “Are you okay?”

Tim smiles again and says, “I worked all night and could really use some of your amazing coffee.”

“You missed breakfast?”

Tim extends his arms so his hands are closer to yours and corrects, “I missed you.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I really want to go out with you.”

Tim nods, then thanks Melanie when she sets a coffee cup on the counter beside him. He sees your number on the side and smiles, but you drop your head momentarily to avoid the embarrassment Melanie provides.

“I promise we’ll do something you’ll like,” Tim assures as his fingers brush yours.

I’ll find the courage to do anything with you, you want to say. Deciding that is more of a second date statement, you merely nod and ask Tim, “Do you actually want my favorite or is there something else you’d prefer?”