#[ best friend au ]

[pollenallergie]

another random and inconsequential headcanon i have about best friend!eddie revolves around dustin. specifically, eddie fucking loves that chewbacca impression dustin does. he loves it so much that, when he introduces you to the new freshman hellfire recruits, first thing he does after telling you all the boys’ names is go, “dustin, do the thing.” like he immediately makes dustin show you his chewbacca impression. it doesn’t even matter if you like star wars or not (though, as eddie’s childhood best friend, i highly doubt you could make it through over a decade a friendship without, at least, somewhat enjoying star wars), he’s gonna make dustin show you the impression anyways because that’s how much he likes it. dustin’s impression makes eddie chuckle every single time he hears it; it never gets old for him.

[alilobsessive]

Okay hear me out, a Reader that isn’t the Neglected Wayne but is instead there best friend. Now there isn’t a lot of neglected readers with known friend groups so I don’t really have any way to subvert the trope, but I have a few ideas. One is that Neglected Wayne dies and as there closest friend they try to learn more about this mysterious sibling through you. Although you hate there guts as you know about the neglect they put them through, and blame them for your best friends death(even if they are involved or not). Only for them to essentially kidnap you and try to use you as a place holder for there growing obsession with the dead sibling.

Or

Neglected Wayne pulls a Alfred in the “Neglected Wayne runs away fics” and tries to have you become a actual member of there family, how? Emotional manipulation of the Bat’s, using there obsessive tendencies against them. So they slowly grow to love you just as much as the NW does and they can take you home.

Or

Neglected Wayne is finally noticed by there family but keeps ditching them to hang out with you. Only for you to get caught in the crossfire of the Cold War slowly develop between NW and there family.

Or a mix and match of them all, honestly there’s a lot of ways this can go. Pick your favorite!

[vampzity]

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙈𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨

Pairing: best friend! Yunho x f!reader

Genre: a bit of fluff, angst, sex between 2 side characters nothing graphic (wrap before you tap!), best friends to lovers, valentine’s day, one shot, best friend au, valentine’s series, pet names(baby, tiny), mention of alcohol/weed, arguing, fist fighting, strong language

Synopsis: It’s Valentine’s Day, a day you’d normally spend with your boyfriend of 2 years. Instead, you guys are at his friend’s house party because you decided to change things up. You’re happily enjoying yourself until you spot something you shouldn’t have seen, ruining the very hope you had left for love. Yunho, your best friend has always been there for you despite his constant concerns about this boyfriend. He just wanted the best for you. Could he be the best that you’ve always needed?

Now Playing: In Your Eyes - The Weeknd

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I am SOOO sorry for how long this upload took! I’ve been working all week *anything for ateez tickets* on top of that, studying & last minute baby sitting. I couldn’t tell you guys how many times I’ve changed Yunho’s idea. Safe to say, y’all are in for a RIDE!

Seonghwa's Pt. Masterlist Yeosang's Pt.

The music boomed in your ears as you danced around with your boyfriend. The aroma of alcohol and weed surrounds you, almost suffocating. You danced closely to your boyfriend, feeling his hands grasp around your waist as you held your red cup.

It was your 2nd Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend Suho, however, the last thing you’d expect was for him to take you to a party. Still, you didn’t mind it as all you wanted to do was spend time with him. You didn’t mind the intoxicating smell of weed and alcohol surrounding you if that meant you got to be with your boyfriend all night.

You wore a nicely fitted sparkly black dress, coming up just to your mid-thigh. You paired it with black gladiator 4-inch heels that had a bit of ridged grip at the bottoms and some pieces of gold jewelry to give it some extra flare. Your hair was nicely done, as well as your choice of makeup; smokey eyes, black liner with lashes, and a dark bloody red lip color. You were normally someone who wore baggy clothes and sneakers whenever you were out, so this was a drastic change for you.

You began to drink more as you danced with your boyfriend, practically intoxicating yourself. He began to kiss against your neck, feeling the vibration of your moans under his lips. He stopped suddenly, making you turn to face him with a pouting face. You noticed his eyes turned away from you, pointing from across the room. He smirked slightly, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“What? What is it?” You began to turn your head to follow his eyes until he stopped you, placing his hand against your cheek. He smiled at you and kissed your forehead softly.

“It’s nothing, baby, I’ll be back okay? Keesung wants me to go talk to him for a sec.” You pouted some more, nodding as you watched him walk away from you into the dining room.

Looking down at your drink, you took another sip, feeling the rush of how cold it was going through your body. However, you weren’t going to let anything stop you. You vowed to have a good night, and that’s exactly what you would do. So you continued to dance, allowing the alcohol to flow through your veins.

You felt a small vibration coming from your bra, feeling for your phone, you pulled it out and saw Yunho’s contact picture. You beamed with excitement and picked up the phone, eager to talk to him.

“Yuyu!! Come dance with me will you please?”

There was a moment of confusion from the boy. Your words slurred slightly as you spoke, making him question you.

“Y/n? Are you drunk right now?!”

Your face was flushed red, eyes barely open as you continued to smile towards the screen which made Yunho roll his eyes. You were practically a goner, not even aware of what was going on around you.

“Where’s your boyfriend? Isn’t he supposed to be with you right now??”

A small worried look painted Yunho’s face. He always had a bad feeling about Suho, not just because he didn’t like Yunho but because he always left you alone. He was rude to you, constantly fighting with you. It was a toxic relationship that you refused to leave for god knows what. Yunho knew he wouldn’t treat you that way, that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight if you were near blackout drunk. Who knows what could happen?

“Oh… I’m not sure. He said.. he was gonna talk to Keesung but.. I haven’t seen him since.”

Your words continued to slur as you spoke to Yunho, making him grow increasingly worried about you. He got up from where he sat and grabbed his keys from the holder, still with you on the phone.

“I’m coming to get you. Your no-good of a boyfriend clearly couldn’t care for your whereabouts if he left you alone like this.”

You pouted, whining as you begged Yunho not to. “You don’t even have the address!! How could you even know where I am?!”

He ignored you, walking outside of the house towards his truck as he began to unlock and open the door. You continued to try and get his attention when he sighed harshly and finally answered you.

“I’ll be there in 5, Y/n. Whether you like it or not, I’m not letting you stay there. Bye.”

With that he hung up abruptly, leaving you with a confused daze as you groaned. You placed the empty cup on the table in front of you, feeling a sudden urge to use the restroom. So many things surround you as you wander through put home, not knowing where the bathroom might’ve been. Dancing people, couples kissing, even people who stood by and watched these sights. Red solo cups were laid out amongst the floors and tables along with empty beer bottles. Multiple men tried to grab your attention, consistently hollering or whistling at you but you continued to ignore them as you were uninterested.

Finally finding the stairs to the bathroom, you sighed with relief and made your way up. The music continued to pound in your ears but quieted down a bit once you made it more than halfway up the stairs. You stopped at the second to last step looking at each door.

Your eyes came across one down the hall that was a bit cracked with the light on. You walked across the hall, soon stopping in your tracks at the noise coming from its direction. You heard not one, but two individuals. It was a bit intriguing to you, of course not knowing who it might be. As you walked closer, the moans grew louder, beginning to ring in your ears. The more you walked, the moans began to separate allowing you to distinguish both a male and female in the room.

You cocked your head to the side, growing curious as to who was in the room but you stopped outside of the door. Would it not be intruding if you took a peek at two people simply enjoying themselves? Isn’t that kind of wrong?

You shook your head, turning back around to walk towards the bathroom. You were drunk, so it’s no surprise that you weren’t in your right mind to make rash decisions. That was until you heard his name.

Your boyfriend’s name.

You stopped in your tracks, feeling your heart jump out of your chest. Even though you were far from tipsy, you were well aware to know that your boyfriend’s name was called. You turned around and made your way back towards the door. You took a deep breath, peeking through the opening in the doorway. As the sounds grew louder, they started to become deafening.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you; seeing your boyfriend sat up on the bed, almost completely naked. His head was thrown back as he went to wipe his hair out of his face and moaned continuously. You felt your heart break into a million pieces as you walked further into the room, the grunts and moans being complete horror to your ears.

Walking closer, you notice a girl under him practically grasping the sheets under her. She moaned repeatedly as your boyfriend held onto her breasts from under her dress. You felt your eyes swell up with tears as the moment dawned on you, feeling a harsh burning in your heart.

Your boyfriend was cheating on you.. on Valentine’s Day…

“Suho..? What are you doing…?”

Yunho made his way to the door of the house, opening it eagerly hoping to you so that he could take you home. Only to see that your presence wasn’t here. Yunho began to ask around, wondering if others may have seen you but of course, no one paid attention enough. They were all too high or past the legal drinking threshold to drive.

He started to walk around the house, getting constant stares from everyone as they wondered who he was and what he was doing there. When he realized you weren’t on the lower floor, he made his way toward the staircase, hoping you were only using the restroom.

Someone rushed into him as he walked, making him slightly lose his balance and groan loudly. He looked over to see a young man around the same height as him with short pink hair and sunglasses. It was Mingi.

“Mingi!! What the hell?! Watch where you’re going, dude!”

Mingi looked at Yunho, smiling widely. His eyes were bloodshot red and he reeked of weed. Yunho rolled his eyes, looking around for his elders who he could not find as he remembered they too were at this party. Mingi continued to smoke from the blunt he had in his hand, making Yunho roll his eyes in annoyance.

He shook his head, leaving Mingi behind, and continued walking towards the stairs until he heard yelling coming from above. He looked around, wondering if anyone else had caught on but with the loud music blaring through every speaker, no one paid any mind to it.

The yelling began to rise, startling those around Yunho as he grew worried. There you were at the top of the stairs practically screaming your head off at your now ex-boyfriend. You began to storm down the stairs as you made it known to everyone how much of a fake he was, calling him a liar even a snake. It wasn’t long before Suho began to follow behind you, shirtless and shaming you for the reason of his reckless cheating.

“Fuck you!! I never even needed you anyways! You’re always hanging around that group of boys.. what? Are they gang-banging you??”

You paused, feeling your entire body tense as you turned your head, your strong glare meeting his eyes. The entire room became quiet as they all watched from afar, refusing to engage.

“Excuse me?!” You softly spoke. You walked towards your now ex-boyfriend, pushing him towards the stairs. Yunho quickly made his way over to you, about to grab your hand and pull you away when Suho pushed you to the ground, kicking your leg.

“You heard me you slut. Get out of my fucking face.”

Yunho felt his body heat with rage as he walked over to Suho, swinging his fist with full force at his face. The entire room let out a loud gasp, watching the blow he had taken. Suho held onto his check, smirking at Yunho. You sat on the ground, forcing yourself to get up to stop the two of them from fighting. Your ex-boyfriend tackled Yunho, repeatedly punching him in the face as he tried hard to fight back. You pulled at Suho, begging him to let go of Yunho until Mingi and San pulled him off and dragged him away.

Yunho spat blood onto the floor, getting up as he wiped his face. He reached into his pockets for his keys and grabbed you by the arm, walking outside.

“Yunho, what the fuck was that?! I can defend myself! You know you’re practically weak compared to Suho!” You stopped in front of the tall man, your face red with anger.

Yunho only ignored you, walking over to his truck. He unlocked it and got into his truck, starting it. You stood outside of his truck perplexed. “Hello??! So you’re just gonna fucking ignore me now?! Hey! I’m talking to you!” You continued to bark at him as he ignored you, pushing him to his limit.

“Will you just get in the fucking truck so I can take you home?!” Yunho banged against the dashboard and glared at you harshly, immediately turning your anger into fear. “You’re drunk y/n! Can’t you fucking see that?!”

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger as you stood by the car. “I’m fine Yunho! I don’t need you looking after me all the time like I’m a fucking ki- Yea? Well clearly somebody needs to and your boyfriend won’t!!” You stood there in silence as Yunho cut you off.

You felt a harsh lump in your throat as you opened the door to his truck and got in. Strapping in your seatbelt, the silence between the both of you grew. As Yunho began to drive through the empty dark streets, you stared up at the moon feeling saddened by how the night ended. Not only did you catch your boyfriend cheating on you, but it felt as if there was tension between you and your best friend. Knowing that you two drifted lately, it felt like this fight only pulled you two away more. The moon continued to shine against your tear-stained face as you cried silently, feeling the heat of everything now catching up to you.

You wanted to speak but your tears stopped your words from coming out, so you remained silent, eventually drifting off into a deep sleep.

You woke up in a softly lit room, which was only illuminated by a small lamp. Looking around, you take note of your surroundings. It smelled of a familiar cologne making you quickly realize that this was not your own. You heard the door creak open, only to see Yunho lock eyes with you as he entered the room. He brought you a warm cup of tea and placed it by the bedside table.

“Yunho?”

He ignored your calling and sat by you on the bed, soon hugging you tightly without saying a sound. You paused for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. The weight of everything began crashing onto you, crushing your mind and your heart. You felt tears swell in your eyes as it eventually became overwhelming and made its way out of your system.

“I’m so sorry for yelling at you… I didn’t mean it. You were only trying to protect me.” You continued to cry into his shoulder as he rubbed your back, still not saying a word. You two remained in silence for a bit longer until Yunho pulled you out of the hug and smiled at you reassuringly despite how messed up his face was.

“Y/n, you truly deserve the world. I’d take a thousand beatings from doucebag guys if it meant you’d be happy. I’m sorry your Valentine’s had to end this way.”

His words filled your heart with joy as his eyes admired you. He always knew the right thing to say, even when the moment was far from good. You two sat in silence for a moment, as you weren’t sure of how to respond.

“Yuyu, I don’t know. You were right the whole time about Suho and I didn’t even listen to you. I deserve what happened to me tonight.”

You continued to cry once again, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you looked away to hide your embarrassment. Yunho cupped your face with his hands, pulling it to face him as he finally gave in to his feelings. He leaned in to kiss you softly, catching you by surprise. You leaned in closer, kissing him back passionately to feel the heat of his lips against your own.

You both pulled away for some air, your faces still very close to each other. You gazed into each other’s eyes lovingly, Yunho’s flushed with red as he finally dared to do what he’d been wanting to for so long.

“Y/n.. I love you. I always have. Nothing you do or say would change that for me.”

Your face blushed at hearing his confession. It was the last thing you expected on this horrible night. You looked away hesitantly still feeling the effects of the alcohol in your system. Yunho placed his hand on yours, caressing it with his thumb lightly.

“Hey, it’s okay if you’re unsure. With everything you went through tonight, you need time and I understand that.”

Yunho was always the best at reassuring you when you needed it most. He knew Suho broke your heart and smashed it, how he tried to call you out and make you look bad in front of everyone. You felt used and abused, just wanting to forget this nightmare of a holiday.

“I know. I appreciate all the reassuring Yu.” He nodded, keeping a firm hold on your hand.

“It may take a lot for me.. but, I’ve always had this deep feeling for you, maybe it’s one I’ve pushed down because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” You looked at him and quickly looked away, feeling your face heat up nervously.

“I’ve chased after different guys, desperate to keep these feelings I had for you away. I just didn’t want to lose you entirely because of how I felt for so long.”

Yunho sighed, pulling your face softly to look at him. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he smiled in admiration of you. “It’s okay Y/n. I’ve felt this way for years too. Believe me.”

You smiled softly quickly looking at the moon that showed through the window. “Do you know why I like the moon Yunho?”

The young man tilted his head, confused at your sudden question. He looked up at the moon with you, its brightest form shining down on the both of you.

“Well, remember that one time in grade school that you said I was pretty like the moon?” You looked back down at Yunho, seeing his face flush pink as he scratched the back of his head. He nodded in embarrassment and put his head down.

“I’m surprised you remember.” He laughed a bit and smiled at you. You nodded and looked down as your hands remained intertwined.

“You’re my moon, Yuyu,” you paused before leaning to kiss him again. “The moon to my stars.”

divider creds: @cafekitsune

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I wanted to make this a bit *PFT* angsty.. I promise Yeosang’s part won’t take to long nor will it be angst haha. Pure fluff for him!

Taglist: @skzline @evidive @kittykat-25 @amuromio @xoxkii @losrpark @classyrbf @sundaybossanova @owmoiralover @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog @honeyhwaaa

*comment to be added to future tag lists!*

[trashyreptilian]

I rise from the shadows and arrive with art once again-

More interactions between Mark and Him, cuz' content of them on my blog is severely lacking believe it or not lmao,, So please, have a mini collage and 3 little random drawn out scenarios. :>

[sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan]

Everything About: Ex!BSF/BF!Matt x Reader

(Note: This is an original idea of mine. Please inbox or personal message me if you'd like to use any of these characters as 'inspiration' of some sort!)

Introduction (Angst & Fluff) (Their background)

Silently Suffering (Angst) (Why they broke up & how they are doing three months later)

New York City (Smut & Fluff) (Their trip to NYC a month before the break up)

I do NOT give permission for my work(s) to be copied, translated, or re-uploaded to ANY site!

Comment, personal message, or ask via my inbox to be added to my taglist!

Want more like this? Visit my masterlist !

[lavenderbang]

Are We Just Friends?

Best Friend! Kim Taeyoung x reader

Genre(s): Best Friend to lovers, non-idol au, fluff I guess??? some angst because I couldn’t resist, Maybe slightly suggestive if you squint, and mentions of some of the other members of cravity

Warning(s): swearing, weed use, but that’s about it

Summary: Your best friend invites you to hang out late at night; that’s expected, since you usually hang out at night, but what you didn’t you didn’t expect was him to tell you something that has been on his mind recently

A/N: I AM IN LOVE WITH KIM TAEYOUNG. Okay but actually, I just really wanted to write this because I’m a self-indulgent fic writer and I want to hang out with Youngtae so badly bruh... So I’m writing this now. I hope you enjoy :)

HE IS SO PRETTY !!!!

Dumbass: I’m outside loser :p

You quickly slipped your old fleece jacket on before stepping out into the crisp cool night. It was late; later than you would usually hang out.

But with Taeyoung’s busy work schedule, you were just glad you were able to go see him. His junky grey car sat idling beside the curb; you could always hear it before you could see it, probably due to the shitty transmission or problems with the wheel bearings that Taeyoung didn’t have the money to fix.

He worked at your town’s local grocery store, mostly stocking shelves. He said it was only until he could find something better, but three years later he still spends almost everyday arranging boxes in the back and accounting for the shipments. 

“Hey nerd, what’s the plan?” You said stepping into the car and closing the door behind you. He was wearing a simple black tee-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. He also had the bracelet you gave him for his birthday wrapped around his wrist. It was a simple silver chain, but you had an almost identical one that you wore everyday.

“Wow, not even a ‘how are you’?” Taeyoung huffed, shaking his head playfully at you, “Straight to business I see...” You couldn’t help the smile the crept up onto you face as you rolled you eyes at him.

“Okay sorry,” You said sarcastically, going to buckle up your seat belt, “How are you?” “I’m good, thanks for asking.” Taeyoung said flatly, grinning softly at you before putting his hands on his steering wheel, “Is it okay if we go down to the river? Or is it too spooky for you this late?”

You lived in a small town out in the middle of nowhere; the population was low, mostly just families that had been there for generations and the occasional newcomer coming in for work. It was tucked up in the hills and surrounded by woods; It also bordered a river, which was a hot spot for people to visit in the summer to escape the blistering heat. Even though it wasn’t too hot now, it would still be nice to sit out there in the shroud of night and get a nice summer breeze off the edge of the water.

“That sounds fine dude,” You replied, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket, “But it wouldn’t be this late if you would have invited me out sooner.”

“Sorry, some of us have a job.” Taeyoung scoffed, putting his car in drive and pulling away from your house. Without looking away from the road, he tosses his phone into your lap, “You have to DJ because I have to make sure we don’t hit anything.”

“roger that.” You hummed, scrolling through Taeyoung’s Spotify to press shuffle on a playlist titled ‘The Jams’. The song didn’t really matter, since it was just background noise anyways.

“How was work today? You were there pretty late tonight huh?” You asked only for Taeyoung to groan dramatically.

“For some reason, Serim’s dad ordered a double shipment of a bunch of our items, so I had spent ages counting them out,” Taeyoung huffed, stopping at a red light and turning to you, “Why did he do that to me?! When Serim hooked me up with this shitty job at his dad’s grocery store, I thought it was supposed to be fun!”

Taeyoung started waving  his hands around as he ranted. You couldn’t help but grin; it was a habit he had that you noticed almost immediately after becoming friends. You think it must just be from him getting too worked up over stuff, because you also noticed he did it when he was excited as well.

“I thought I was supposed to be chill because Mr. Park has always been super chill when we go to their house to hang.” Taeyoung continued, “But nooo! When I work for him, he orders a double shipment out of the blue or asks me to count everything again ‘just to be sure’. I swear he purposely makes me stay longer at work.”

“Youngtae,” You hummed, pointing out the front window at the traffic lights, “Green.” Taeyoung let out a sigh before pressing on the gas.

“If you hate it so much, why do you stay working there?” You asked, rolling down the window to let the cool night air in. Taeyoung approaches the edge of town, turning down the dirt road that would lead you both to the river bank.

“I heard the gas station Minhee work at is looking for someone. You could ask him to help you out.” You suggested, earning a  “mmh-hmm” in response from Taeyoung.

“Maybe, but I’m pretty sure the owner hates me for shoplifting candies when we were in middle school.” He said sheepishly, cringing at the memory and pulling off the road; he drove through the long grass to the edge of the river before putting his car in park.

“Besides, I don’t want to be in this hellhole for much longer.” Taeyoung confessed, turning his car off and taking his seat belt off.

“No?” You replied, taking your seat belt off too, opting to lean the seat back a bit more before continuing in a teasing tone, “This place doesn’t tickle your fancy?”

“Not at all,” Taeyoung chuckled, pushing his dark hair out of his face, “You guys made being here manageable, but I can’t stand being here. I feel like I’m going to be stuck.”

“I get that,” You said, staring at your hands in your lap, “We all feel the same, I think...”

“Do you have your pen on you?” Taeyoung suddenly asked. You silently pulled it out of your pocket and handed it to him. He takes a hit of it before frowning.

“What flavour of cart is this? It tastes like ass.” Taeyoung complained, handing the dab pen back to you. You take a hit of it too, humming as you let the smoke fill your lungs.

“Its blackberry I think..?” You replied, bringing the pen up to your eyes to look at it. You shrug, taking another hit of it, “I wanted to try something new. Besides, it’ s not that bad.”

Taeyoung took it from your grasp before placing it between his lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he inhaled with a disgusted look on his face.

“Remind me to never buy blackberry.” He grumbled, giving it back to you as you giggled at him. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You glanced at Taeyoung’s side profile, as he was seemingly staring out into nothingness.

“Did you hear Seongmin got into university?” Taeyoung broke the silence, and you nodded. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while thinking, before leaning back, “I’m happy for him. He moves into the city sometime at the end of august. He asked me and a few of the guys if we’ll drive him in and help him move stuff into the dorm.”

“That’s really wonderful for him,” You said genuinely, eyes drifting away from Taeyoung to look out to where he was staring at. You could see the reflection of the water from the light of the moon, as it was pretty clear that night. You turned back to Taeyoung, trying to read his expression, “don’t you think its wonderful?”

“Yeah, of course.” Taeyoung said, smiling at you weakly before taking a deep breath, “Its just... I’ll miss him, y’know? I think it’s one of the big reason I haven’t left yet. I’d miss you guys too much...”

“Yeah, I understand what you mean.” You said, looking out your open window, “But I think it’ll be okay.”

Taeyoung looked at you, but you were leaned away from him against the window, closing your eyes just to bask in the night atmosphere. He could barely see you in this light, but your figure looked calm and relaxed in the light of the moon.

“You’re not worried about drifting apart?” Taeyoung asked, anxiety laced through his tone as he fidgeted in his seat. You glanced at him before sitting up in your seat.

“Not at all.” You said simply, smiling softly and brushing your hand through your hair, “I think if we all put in a effort to talk or text regularly, no distance could force our little group apart.”

You turn to face Taeyoung, who chewed his bottom lip nervously. His eyes shone like diamonds from the reflection of the sky, and you couldn’t help the grin that came across your face.

“It’s all about doing your part to nurture the relationship, y’know?” You concluded, taking your pen out and having one last hit of it before throwing it haphazardly in the cup holder.

“I guess you’re right... I’m just scared because it’ll be really different.” Taeyoung hummed. He picked at his nails, peeling the polish you did a week ago off them.

“Different doesn’t mean bad,” You replied, before smiling playfully and grabbing his hand to stop him from picking off the nail polish, “Hey, don’t pick off all my hard work!” Taeyoung chuckled at you, looking down at his fingernails and then back at you.

“Sorry.” He said and laced his fingers in between yours, “You’re right. everything will be okay. Besides, we will all move at some point, right?” You hummed in agreement, turning to look out the window again at the river.

Taeyoung’s hand was warm in yours; he felt clammy from the summer humidity, but it fit almost perfectly in yours. Like it was meant to belong there...

You sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, nothing heard but the sound of crickets in the reeds by the river and the quiet melody of the song playing on Taeyoung’s phone. 

That’s how it was with Taeyoung, comfortable.

You and him had always been close, you’d even go as far as saying he was your best friend in your little group of friends. But more recently, you’d been feeling a bit awkward around Taeyoung after an incident that happened that planted this annoying thought in the back of your head...

~

Jungmo had a party about a month ago at his house; His parents were out of town that weekend, so of course all of your friends were invited, plus a few other people you graduated with. Well, of course that lead to a bunch more people showing up (people you didn’t really know), but nobody really minded at the end of the day, since the more the merrier for it.

You, Taeyoung and a few of your other friends were sitting out in the backyard, overall having a good time. There were a few other people around, but you didn’t really notice to much; you were absolutely high at the time, as was Taeyoung and the boys from your friend group which were sitting with you.

“No you’re not listening to me (Y/N)!” Woobin shouted, taking slow, long blinks while putting his hands up in defense, “You would need to go to the boat, Like they do in the movie.”

“no no! I’d just swim around until the flood ended,” You argued, crossing your arms, “Besides, they didn’t even get to the boat in the movie, they just stood up on a rock and the water went away.”

“But the water only went away because of that dumbass squirrel and it’s acorn!” Woobin said with a huff, “Besides, you’ll get tired after swimming for a while. The only way to survive is getting on the boat.”

“What are you two arguing over? I can hear you yelling from inside...” Allen said with a drunken giggle, closing the patio door behind him as he sat down and cracked open the can of beer in his hand.

“How we would survive if we were in Ice Age, The Meltdown.” Taeyoung explained, grinning as he tossed his dab pen to Allen, “Ruby insists you’d die without getting to the boat and (Y/N) thinks they could just swim around until the water went away.”

“You’re both wrong and stupid,” Wonjin said playfully, wagging his finger around the circle before tapping on his head, “I’d just climb up onto the ice wall honestly.” You all let out exclamations in protest, talking about the water coming from the ice wall and Allen let out a hearty laugh at your antics. 

“Youngtae,” You huffed in a whiny voice, leaning your head on his shoulder and sticking your lip out in a pout, “You think I could swim to survive, right?”

“If we are going based on the events of the movie,” Taeyoung hummed, tapping his chin clumsily while pretending to think, “I think you could swim for long enough to survive.”

“Ha!” You shouted, sticking your finger in Woobin’s face with a satisfied smile, “See? Youngtae agrees with me, which means I win!” You giggled happily and leaned more into Taeyoung, who slung his arm around your shoulder lazily.

“Whatever, I’m not listening to dumb and dumber.” Woobin said while rolling his eyes. You and Taeyoung immediately began bicker on who was dumb and who was dumber.

“I’m going in to get something to eat, anyone wanna come or need me to bring anything?” Woobin stood from his spot on the lawn and stretching his arms up over his head. Wonjin murmured something about chips while laying on his back and counting the blades of grass near his face. Allen shook his head no, before taking a sip of the drink he had in his hand.

“I wanna come! I have to pee anyways.” Taeyoung cheered, lifting you off of him to stand up. You grabbed onto Taeyoung’s arm and asked for a drink of water, to which Taeyoung acknowledged with a ‘roger that!’; then the two boys went inside, closing the patio door behind them leaving you with Wonjin and Allen and the few strangers from before. It was a girl you didn’t recognize accompanied by a guy you went to high school with, but didn’t really talk to, since he was a few grades above you.

“Hey guys, I think I took too much weed.” Wonjin said with a sigh, flicking the grass lazily, “My eyes feel like they are made of liquid and my body feels like it weighs a million pounds.”

“My mouth is just super dry...” You said, smacking your lips and touching your tongue with your index finger, “My thongue theels like thandpaper”

“You guys should have just had alcohol instead then,” Allen boasted, grabbing your arm to take your finger out of your mouth. He let out a little giggle, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “I mean, I had waaaaaayyy too much so I’m not any better off.”

“You probably came outside to make sure you didn’t puke on Jungmo’s carpet...” You hummed, earning a ‘bingo’ from Allen, who chuckled along with you before taking another swig from his beer and then setting the can down in the grass.

“You’ll be fine, Taeyoung is bringing you water for your precious tongue.” Wonjin said and sat up, pulling his phone out and turning it on only to put it back in his pocket. He then smiles gently to himself and snickering, “And Ruby is bringing me chips so I’ll be fine too, hehe....”

“You guys didn’t need anything, right?” Allen asked the strangers sitting off to the side. You turned to look at them and giving them both a polite smile, which they reciprocated.

“No we’re good.” The dude said simply, turning to the girl beside him and kissing her cheek with a grin. She leaned further into him as he pulled her closer, “Right baby?”

“Yeah, we are good.” She smiled at him before looking at you sweetly, “So, how long have you been dating?”

“....Huh?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at her, “Dating who?”

Just then, The patio door opened to reveal Woobin with a bag of tortilla chips and Taeyoung with two glasses of water in his hand.

“We have come bearing gifts!” Woobin cheered, throwing the bag of chips down onto the grass only for it to be snatched up quickly by Wonjin. Taeyoung gave you the glass gingerly, before sitting back down beside you with his own glass.

“What happened while we were gone?” Taeyoung asked, looking around at all the members in the little group.

“I was just asking your partner how long you two had been dating for?” The girl said, nodding her head towards you. You felt your eyes widen and your face heat up, as you quickly stared down at the grass. The girl turned to the boy beside her and placed a quick kiss on his lips, “Me and Christopher have been together for only a few months now, but it feel like its been forever. I was just wondering how long have you been dating for?”

“Me and (Y/N).... Uhhh...” Taeyoung mumbled, clearly taken aback by this girl’s question. He scooted a bit away from you, brushing his hair out of his face. The other boys looked between the two of you awkwardly, as you kept your eyes trained in your lap and the grass below.

“We aren’t a couple actually.... Just good friends, that’s all.” Taeyoung replied, embarrassment clear by the tone of his voice and the redness rising from his neck up to his ears. The girl had gone pale, letting out a quiet ‘oh’ before silence fell over the group.

“I’m sorry I assumed.” She apologized quickly, “You guys are just so touchy with each other and I saw the matching bracelets so I assumed. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know.” Taeyoung laughed awkwardly, picking at his fingernails and looking anywhere but you beside him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at all. You felt your stomach sink and a horrible feeling of nausea washed over you as you tapped the edge of your water glass.

It went silent again, and you felt like everyone was holding their breath. You hated it. Were you and Taeyoung too clingy? Did people really think you guys were dating. There is no way you’d ever date Taeyoung, he’s your best friend! Why did you feel like your stomach was doing back flips and your face was on fire? You hated this whole situation; it was all too much for you right now.

You lazily checked your phone, pretending to look at the time before you downed your glass of water. You stood up, earning the attention of the rest of the group.

“Its pretty late and I had too much weed, so I’m going to go to bed.” You said with a weak smile, nodding to the couple of strangers, “Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Allen asked, standing up too. He gave you a subtle look of pity as you nodded, plastering a fake smile on your face. You felt like you were hyperventilating with all the eyes on you. It was all to much for you in this state.

“Good night boys.” You mumbled before retreating back inside, not sparing a glance at Taeyoung. Why did this situation make you so anxious. And why did this make you question your relationship with Taeyoung? Was your relationship perceived as more then friends by most people? Aren’t friends clingy anyways, or was it to a different degree you and Taeyoung? But most importantly, why did the idea of dating him not sound so bad to you when you really thought about it? You were going to be sick if you thought about it longer.

It was too much, so you pushed those thoughts as you retreated to Jungmo’s spare room and lock the door behind you, not to come out until the next morning, where nobody brought it up, not even Taeyoung. 

Even when you hung out with him a week later, and then last week too, Taeyoung didn’t mention the incident at all, but you both knew it caused a change in the comfortability of your relationship...

~

It felt strange to hold Taeyoung’s hand after the incident. You weren’t sure what happened after you went to bed, but you were feeling a sense a relief that he did hold your hand when he needed it. It was a sign that maybe your relationship could be going back to normal maybe? Taeyoung brushed his thumb subconsciously over the back of your hand. Now buried in the relief arose a strange feeling, the one where your stomach was doing flips and your started to feel a bit warmer and that little thought of dating him crawled its way out of the back of your brain.

“Your hand is super sweaty dude.” Taeyoung laughed, giving it a little squeeze. You let out a laugh too, releasing his hand and wiping yours on your pant leg.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little hot right now.” You confessed, “I shouldn’t have worn this shitty jacket...”

“I love that jacket, even though it’s so old and shitty,” Taeyoung said playfully, leaning over to grab near the pocket and smiling when he felt the crispy outline of a burn hole, “I remember when we all went camping last summer and you got hit by a stray spark from the campfire and it burned this hole in it. I remember you standing up so fast and me and you patting it out before it could burn you.” He chuckled at the memory, looking up at your face as you felt around the burn hole too.

“That was fun, minus me almost getting lit on fire.” You said grinning at the fond memory before looking at Taeyoung in the eyes, “We should go camping again sometime. Although, preferably when it’s not so hot outside.”

“If you’re really that hot, we could go for a swim in the river?” Taeyoung suggested nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a cat-like grin.

“I’d love to, but do I look like I’m wearing a swimsuit stupid?” You chuckled, gesturing to your body before laughing a bit at the idea.

“Not a problem!” Taeyoung hummed, before surprising you by suddenly tugging his shirt up and over his head. Your eyes went from his bare torso back up to his face with a look of shock.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before because being in your underwear is basically the same thing as being in a swimsuit,” Taeyoung deduced, opening his car door and starting to undo his belt. His torso seemed to glow in the moonlight from the sheen sweat from the summer heat; he must have been just as hot as you were, but somehow you started to feel it even worse now that Taeyoung was more exposed. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and you felt your heart squeeze a bit, which was increasingly concerning.

“You coming or..?” Taeyoung asked with a smile, leaning down to make eye contact with you. His hands dipped into the top of his jeans, however he did not pull them down yet. You realized he was waiting for you to agree before doing so, which made you feel much more comfortable.

You thought for a moment. You knew this wasn’t a good idea, as the little voice in your head that arose form the party was getting stronger and you could feel the rational part of your head be clouded over by not only your other thoughts, but also the haze of your weed kicking in. You chewed you lip nervously before smiling softly back at Taeyoung.

“Fine Youngtae. Fuck it. It’s too hot” You sighed, taking your jacket off before stepping out of the car too. You piled all your clothing (besides your undergarments) haphazardly on the passenger seat and placed your shoes on the car floor in front of the seat. Now that you were out of the car in nothing but your underwear, you felt the coolness of the night air. However, you still felt just as hot, if not worse. You couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach or the beating of your heart the felt like it was going a million miles an hour from adrenaline. 

Your nervousness must have showed, because you could hear a hearty laugh come from your best friend as he walked around to the front of the car.

“Relax a bit dude, it’s just me here.” He said, brushing his hair back once more. You refused to look anywhere south of his belly button, for your own sanity, but you did notice his boxers being a ugly plaid pattern from your peripheral. 

“If I would have known you’d be seeing my underwear, I’d have worn nicer ones...” You said, trying to sound as casual as possible, but inside your body was on fire. Your brain was shutting down and your body felt jittery and nervous.

“Don’t worry about that, you look fine.” Taeyoung complimented, making your stomach drop. Taeyoung walked past you, going down to the very edge and walking along it, calling after you. “Come on, slow poke! The shallow area should be around here..”

You shook your head, trying to get a hold of yourself; taking a deep breath and following Taeyoung to the shallow part where people usually swam during the day. He stepped off the bank and into the water, having it come up to his ankles when he let out a few curses and curled his fingers into fists at his side.

“Brrrr! Its freezing!” He cried out, wincing at you as you laughed at how cute he was, “I’m going to become a Young-sicle after this I’m sure...”

“I guess I’ll be a (Y/N)-sicle then,” You said, stepping in beside him and feeling a shiver immediately run up your legs from the cold water. Your eyes meet Taeyoung and you both burst out in laughter at the knowing look of biting cold that you both are experiencing.

Taeyoung begins to wade out a bit further, complaining the whole time when you get an evil idea. You follow him, water getting up to around your knees with your grin growing as you close the distance between the two of you, so that you are are now standing maybe a couple feet away from each other again.

“Hey Youngtae!” You called to him to get his attention. He turned to look at you and before he had time to react, you dig your hands into the ice cold water and splash him. He shrieked due to the surprise of water hitting his body and the cool temperature of it of his skin. You laughed at his reaction, quickly doing a few more splashes so he doesn’t have time to recover, getting water all the way up to near his face.

“Quit it! It’s freezing!” He places his hands out to try and block the water from hitting him. Your laughter quickly goes from joyous to scared as he starts wading over to you.

“No wait! I’m sorry!” You said through a fit of giggles, weakly splashing at him to try and keep him away, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Youngtae, don’t!”

“You should have thought about that before you splashed me, stupid.” He giggled back, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you towards him so he can wrap his arms around your frame. You let out a squeal as he lifted you a bit, dragging you into deeper water. 

“Youngtae, please don’t! I’m sorry.” You struggled against his iron grip, smacking his arms playfully, but you felt the chuckle leaving his chest as he held you still in the water.

“Sorry,” He hummed sarcastically, “Next time don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

With that, Taeyoung quickly lifted you off your feet and promptly dunked you in the water, almost crushing you by laying down over you, just to make sure you couldn’t avoid the icy plunge. You screamed from the cold, while Taeyoung sucked air through his teeth at the freezing water rushing over his back. He let you go and you quickly spun around to face him before smacking him on the shoulder.

“Kim Taeyoung I swear, you’re dead meat!” You scolded while giggling at him. His expression mirrored your own, with only a slight hint of pride residing in his features.

“Hey! You were the one who splashed me first!” Taeyoung laughed, leaning back to sit in the shallow water; he crossed his legs, letting the water comfortably wade just under his collar bones. You mumbled in agreement, letting your laughter die down before you sat beside him.

The cool water was frigid at first, but after a few seconds of getting used to it, it felt refreshing. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the heat from earlier subside even a little bit as you closed your eyes. You and Taeyoung were silent, just listening to the sound of the running water and the faint tune of Taeyoung’s car radio fill the air.

That is, until you best friend broke the silence.

“Hey, uhm.” He mumbled, causing you to open your eyes and look at him; you almost wished you didn’t. He looked beautiful, hair slightly damp, tan skin shining, soft eyes trained on you with his bottom lip slightly tucked between his teeth.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Taeyoung continued, scooting closer to you, causing the water around the two of you to ripple; much like the butterflies that arrive in your stomach from the possibilities of this conversation.

“What is it?”

“Well, I..... uhm.”

“Youngtae.” You said flatly, expression softening as you reached out for his arm to place a comforting touch to it, “talk to me.” 

You could tell Taeyoung was anxious from the way his eyebrows furrowed and how his lips were pulled into a thin line. He had the same look before the talent show in middle school; It was the first time he performed in front of anyone and he was so nervous he almost threw up. But, just like now, you were there for him to make sure he was okay.

Like you’d always be.

He let out a sigh, before looking away from you, “I wanted to talk about what happened.. Y’know... at the party.”

It was your turn to be anxious now, body freezing up before you turned to look away too, focusing on the way the moon reflected off the dark water. Was this it? Did Taeyoung not want to be your friend anymore because of how you acted at the party? Did he think you were disgusted with the possibility of dating him? Would he be weirded out if he found out you felt quite the opposite?

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started out, struggling to find the words, “I know you were really uncomfortable and I.... I should have been more aware of how my behavior can be perceived by others. I know that we are just friends and I shouldn’t be so clingy...”

“Please don’t apologize! You didn’t do anything wrong.” You quickly countered, looking down at the way your body distorted through the water. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself there.

You were the one who froze up and didn’t say a word. You were the one who left him alone to deal with the situation. You were the one who was slowly growing relationship-changing feelings... “It should be me who is apologizing.”

“For what?!” Taeyoung gasped, whipping his head to look at you.

“For making you think that I was upset with you! For leaving and making it awkward between us.”

“You weren’t upset?”

“No.” You huffed out, feeling your face heat up. You take your cold hands out of the water to pat your cheeks gently as you let out a sigh. Your mind felt cloudy and your heart beat went steady against your chest. You blamed the weed for allowing the truth to tumble out of your mouth, “I should apologize because I’m still making it awkward between us...”

“How so?” He mumbled, eyes burning holes into the side of your face as you looked out at the other shoreline. You heaved a heavy sigh, hanging you head before letting all the true thoughts and feelings you’ve been having spill out.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.” You confessed, words flowing from your lips much easier than you anticipated, “Not in a platonic, ‘we are best friends!’ way, but in a ‘I think about you all the time and want to wake up next to you everyday’ kind of way. I didn’t realize it until the party, but I am in love with you and I maybe always have been.”

The silence was deafening, with the only sound being the thumping of a nervous heart and the rushing of the cold water surrounding you. You drop you head, feeling the weight of what you just said.

Taeyoung was quiet beside you, seemingly from shock or being deep in thought.

You allowed the silence only for a moment before you turned to look at him. You couldn’t bear the uneasiness any longer.

“I’m so sorry.” You mumbled, your gaze catching his, “I know we are just frien-”

Taeyoung quickly cut you off by rushing forward, placing a hasty kiss on you lips. It was so quick, you weren’t even sure if it happened as you just stared at him, too stunned to speak.

He...

He kissed you?

“I’m sorry, I should have asked before I did that!” Taeyoung huffed out, running one of his wet hands through his hair as he smiled, mouth slightly agape. You noticed the redness creeping up his neck and cheeks.

“I... I’m just.” He stutters, brain seemingly short-circuited before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath to collect himself, “I just never thought you’d like me back.” “You... like me?” You asked, heart leaping into your throat.

“Well duh!” He giggled, “I mean, I thought I was pretty obvious about my feelings for you, but I just assumed you never saw me as anything more than a friend. And I’m more than happy to just be a part of your life.”

“Wow, I must’ve be blind...”

“No, just stupid.”

“Okay, that’s a bit uncalled for.”

“Sorry.” Taeyoung hummed, shifting to tuck his knees up against his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. He chewed his bottom lip nervously as his eyes darted down to the dark murky water, “So..?”

“So?”

“Now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” Taeyoung huffed exasperated , throwing his hands in the air, causing the water around the two of you to ripple. “Are we still just friends or....” He let his voice trail on, giving you a hopeful look, “Does this change everything?”

“I mean,” You spoke softly, feeling the heat rise to your face. Why was it all of a sudden so hard to talk to Taeyoung? You felt like you were choking on the words as you cleared your throat and meekly whispered, “I wouldn’t mind a change...”

Taeyoung nodded, smile slowly spreading across his face as he registered what you said. He turned to you, scooting a bit closer so that your shoulders touched and your faces were a few inches apart.

“I think I’d like that too.” He whispered, voice just barely audible as his eyes wandered your facial features. Without another word more, you slowly leaned in, giving him plenty of time to move away before you placed you lips against his.

You were felling so many things at this moment; joy, excitement, nervousness. But above all else, you felt right.

Being here with Taeyoung, kissing him and letting yourself love him just felt right. Like it was all falling into place and meant to be. You thought about your future with your best friend and how that was all going to change; but you had hope that it would be for the better.

—————————

A/N: In my Taeyoung vibes and I just didn’t have a way to finish it so please forgive a rushed ending. I love this man SOOO much !! Believe it or not, he’s actually my main man in Cravity, even though I haven’t posted about him lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!!

[yawn-junn]

How would jang wonyoung be as a best friend?

Hmm I think she'd be almost like a toddler but not as over bearing if that makes sense like I imagine she pouts a lot like a lot a lot

She doesn't throw like tantrums or anything like that but she'll act upset and get pouty to get you to do something she wants

Because she does get a lot of hate online (don't really know why) she does confine in you for it being her best friend you are one of the closest people to her so like literally the only person she can turn too

On more of a bright side because she's so great full for eveything you've done for her she'll spend tons of money on things you like

You two are kinda like a rock for one another

[sonicasura]

You don't say? Honestly, it wouldn't be a surprise if the folks who make the Resident Evil games makes a new villian sole based on No 9. That kaiju would perfectly fit into that type of game.

And you are saddly correct that front on just how much of a bigger problem No 9 will be here. My friend has told me that due how he has made his au, some of the canon events takes longer to happen since No 9 is fully distracted with how Kafka came to be. Not to mention how Bakko is basically a successor to the projects second go.

Theres too much interesting stuff to learn, and neither 9 nor that Meireki kaiju want to miss it. So they don't mind putting a pause on their world domination plans. For now.

Too bad for both kaijus they are about to learn that Kafka is not only a 9.8 fortitude kaiju build to kill other kaijus. But has many other tricks that is ready to give them a bad time.

Kafka also becomes a bit of a translator for Bakko. Turns out while the big cat isn't on the same level as Kafka, he still has some opinions and now has the means to say them to everyones face.

And Kafka does infact prefers to walk on all four. Though he finds walking on two is sometimes the better option. But from what I understand, this new hight is a necessary thing as it allows Kafka to both have a bipedal and quadrupedal form without issue.

And since Kafka takes a form thats very similare to that of a Lunagaron, at least in the aspect of being able to change form, its no wonder he is that big. You just need to add some lizard like features along side some of the canon feature of the original form to boot to get it right.

Or so he says anyways. I have a bit of a hard time seeing it to be honest even when he has shown me some drawing he has of the form. I think he is struggling a little with how he want Kafka to turely look honestly.

And its a shit show alright. Though which on is worse depends on how one see it. One thing is for sure though, things are about to get interesing for Kafka and Soshiro.

If they make a Resident Evil villain based on No.9 then expect it to be meme'd, lol. The franchise is already insane and there's a mold based contagion too. Wonder if Capcom would bring back those anime based skins like they did for Monster Hunter. 🤔

Kafka being the translator is both cute and funny. Bakko finally gets to make a valid point rather than just be part of the conversation. That tiger definitely has some things to say, lol.

Soshiro and Kafka are gonna be quite busy on both sides of things. No.9 being distracted is honestly a blessing with all things considered. The less he indulges in his usual plots, the more time the Defense Force has to handle things.

I think what your friend meant by height is the body structure. Dogs aren't built to stand on two legs for long as it'll damage their spines. Lunagaron was made with werewolf inspiration in mind which means their body frame is suitable for both styles of walking.

[bangtanficsforyou]

TRYHL (Wattpad)

I'm cross posting TRYHL and here's the link to it if you'd like to read it on Wattpad!

[pollenallergie]

a random best friend!eddie head canon that i have is that he’s kind of afraid of horses. he tried very hard to like them because he’s always wanted nothing more than to be a fantastical, dashing knight on horseback that sweeps his lovely best friend off their feet… but horses really just freak him out. he likes the idea of horses, but seeing them in person is a very no bueno situation for him.

[thornsnvultures]

omggg I love him!! he's the perfect mix of cocky and sweet and silly (and I totally wanna see him kick that guy's ass lol)

Now or Never

Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)

Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)

A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves. 

Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth. 

You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice. 

Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask. 

You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.

Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker. 

"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?" 

"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?" 

"Not currently, why?" 

"Can I come over for a minute?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker. 

"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed. 

"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?" 

You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it." 

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe." 

"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way. 

It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you. 

He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time. 

But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time. 

"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again." 

You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips. 

"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you. 

"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?" 

He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"

You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no." 

"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way. 

You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked. 

"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea.  "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true." 

"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?" 

You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?" 

He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it." 

You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag. 

It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home. 

You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up. 

Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?

He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward. 

"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you. 

You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze. 

"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward. 

"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise." 

You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."

You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white. 

"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out. 

Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up. 

"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach." 

Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it." 

"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done." 

You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair. 

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment. 

Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded. 

"Is there a. . .  specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious. 

"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess." 

"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?" 

You stilled for a second, shaking your head. 

He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard. 

You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?" 

He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all." 

"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees. 

"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first." 

Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?" 

He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together. 

You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over.  About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -

"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?" 

The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked. 

He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head. 

Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you. 

"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded. 

"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said. 

"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?" 

 The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?” 

Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours. 

“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him,  he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”

You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked. 

Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did. 

You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs. 

“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.” 

Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you. 

“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head. 

"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever." 

Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?" 

His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years." 

It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his. 

So you did.

His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans. 

Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again. 

"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you." 

~~~

You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom. 

The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. 

"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise." 

You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach. 

 "Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt. 

You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head. 

"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous." 

You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you. 

"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh." 

"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights. 

"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it." 

His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts. 

"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping. 

"Please." 

He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you. 

"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?" 

The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip. 

His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit. 

"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something. 

"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt. 

"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot. 

"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat. 

 "I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do." 

He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable. 

"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me." 

You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew. 

"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach." 

The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open. 

"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him. 

"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?" 

You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue. 

You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves. 

"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you." 

"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?" 

He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you. 

"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good." 

He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence. 

You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled. 

"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue. 

"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."

Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair. 

He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again. 

"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that." 

 Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered. 

"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?" 

A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin. 

He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back. 

Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows. 

You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube. 

Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise." 

"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin. 

"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss. 

The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind. 

He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier. 

A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more. 

"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked. 

"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest. 

You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder." 

He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already. 

"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot. 

"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him. 

"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."

"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again. 

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you. 

"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?" 

A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over. 

Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist." 

You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled. 

"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."

The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it. 

Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me." 

The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him. 

You were sure you screamed. 

"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could. 

He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted. 

He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again. 

"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago. 

You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect." 

A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?" 

You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"

"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again." 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

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[canisalbus]

Trying to figure out modern Ludovica.

[trashyreptilian]

AAAAAA- I swear I'm alive guys,, Just been a lot more busy with real life and other boring shit.

So for now have a little silly image redraw from me.~

Original picture I redrew and the art without all the blaring filters:

[allskywalkerswhine]

in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: save a horse , ride your best friend by @seonghwaddict

Feedback: I do not have enough words to express how much i loved this!! The way Mingi was so sweet and loving to yn while being and absolute perv has my knees shaking and my mind spinning!

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[pearlessance]

Our Little Secret

Summary - Joel Miller deals with disgusting, intrusive thoughts about the girl next door who smells like vanilla and uses cherry chapstick.

Pairing - dbf!Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings - explicit sexual content MDNI, kinda perv!Joel, age gap, no cordyceps outbreak AU, reader's in high school but is eighteen, dom/sub undertones, seduction, underage drinking, body worship, unprotected sex, reader is called 'jailbait’ by Tommy, oral sex, breeding kink if you squint, praise & degradation

WC: 11k

[crossposted to AO3]

Joel Miller told himself he wasn’t a pervert. He just wasn’t. Double glancing at a pretty, young girl didn’t make him one of those guys — it just made him a man, right?

Never mind the fact that your father was one of his closest friends or the fact that you lived just next door, embodying half of the very typical scandalous, small-town affair. Never mind your eighteen year age difference. Never mind those obscene images that sometimes invaded his brain. Joel had heard the term once. He thinks Sarah might have told him about it from that science documentary she watched—those sordid images were called intrusive thoughts, right? Involuntary, unavoidable, unwanted.

It wasn’t only him who stared in your direction a little longer than necessary, anyway. The very first time he’d seen you, Joel and Tommy had been in the driveway doing an oil change on the truck. You and your dad had just moved in, Joel had introduced himself the day prior and helped haul a bed frame through the front room. Your dad had mentioned he had a daughter, but Joel had expected to see a girl closer to Sarah’s age. 

He hadn’t expected to see you, wearing those tight blue jeans and that tiny tank top that left very little to the imagination. The straps were thin and the fabric billowy, and when you shifted the box beneath your arm from one hand to the other, the pretty pink fabric of your bra was out in the open for all eyes to see. Your hair had been pulled into a ponytail at the crown of your head, swishing back and forth with each step. It made Joel wonder about how soft the long strands were, how they would feel between his fingers, how they would look splayed out atop a pillowcase — intrusive thoughts.

Tommy was quick to abandon his tools and cross the front yard to greet your father, offering you what seemed like an innocent helping hand. Joel thinks his younger brother has no self control, but he leaves the truck too. Only to introduce himself, though. Definitely not to get a closer look. 

Your voice is sweet, he thinks. It slides through him like a hot knife through butter. And when you laugh at Tommy’s awkward attempt at conversation, that sound stabs him in the chest because it’s so girlish. So young and youthful and airy. That pink lace is still poking out of the side of your shirt, even though Tommy now carries the box, and Joel strains himself trying to keep his eyes above your chin. 

“And you must be Mr. Miller,” you say, sticking your tiny hand out to him.

He knows it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t want to be rude, so he takes your hand in his and shakes it gently. Your skin is soft, nails painted red and manicured and he wonders what other parts of you are this soft, wonders if red has always been his favorite color, wonders what it would look like wrapped around — “Just Joel,” he tells you, clearing those damn intrusive thoughts as quickly as they appear. 

“Joel,” you repeat, tasting his name on your pink tongue and giving him a sweet smile. “There's two more boxes. Wanna help me grab them?”

He’s careful not to answer too fast, afraid of sounding too eager. But he agrees, and you lead him to the open truck bed, and as you bend over to grab the smaller box his hands flex at his sides. He thinks you must be doing this on purpose. Right? Torturing him, sticking your ass out, silently begging him to look. But he doesn't. Instead, Joel picks up the larger box and notices the scent of vanilla radiating off your skin. This is almost worse because his mouth begins to water. 

“My dad said you have a daughter,” you say. 

“Yeah. Sarah. She’s younger than you, though.”

“That’s okay. Does she like cake? I have to bake one for my home ec final and could use a taste tester if she’s not busy.”

It really puts things into perspective, and he’s glad for it. Finals. School. High school. “I’ll ask her,” Joel says. 

You lead everyone inside and direct all three men to take the boxes to the living room where you begin unpacking. You sit on the floor as you sift through the boxes, legs tucked underneath you, and Joel has to force a smile when you look up at him through your lashes. You say thank you, Joel from your knees and he feels something very, very wrong stir inside him. 

Tommy follows him back outside, and on the way back to their truck his voice is high pitched in mockery as he says, “Thank you, Joel! You’re so handsome , Joel! Let me repay you with my body, Joel!”

He just laughs it off, but as he continues with the oil change beneath the hood an uncomfortable silence settles between him. 

Eventually, Tommy shakes his head and snorts. “That girl is nothing but fucking jailbait, man.”

He sees you quite a few times after that, because your dad works in construction, too. Joel drinks the same kind of beer, and your dad has a pool table in your garage…so, naturally, they become the best of friends and very quickly at that. Tommy joins the party too, and within months they become an inseparable trio.

It’s during one of these nights when the three of them were standing in the garage with the door wide open, music playing from the speakers in your dad’s truck when those intrusive thoughts plague him again. Tommy’s losing at pool, drunk before the sun’s fully set, and your dad is laughing at something he’s saying.

You’re walking home from practice and stop suddenly at the end of the driveway. Joel can see you, but he doesn’t think Tommy or your dad can. The truck is in the way, but he’s in the perfect position. He stares a little too long, but he can’t help it. You’re wearing your cheer uniform, and your midriff is exposed, and your long legs are so fucking appetizing that his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. Your skirt is rolled up at the waist, making the fabric shorter than it’s supposed to be, making it sluttier than it’s supposed to be.

When you notice him staring, you shoot him a sinful little smile and raise your finger to your lips. A secret, Joel realizes. You want him to keep something a secret, and somehow it feels intimate, having something between the two of you. He watches you unroll the hem of your skirt and pull at the ends so it covers more of your legs. You turn in a semicircle, and he licks his lips, and when you look at him again you raise your hands in question. 

He gives you a discreet thumbs up, and when you make your way up the driveway you give him the prettiest smile and say, “Hey, Joel! Nice to see you!”

Tommy gives him shit for it later, but he’s too distracted at the sight of you in that uniform to even remember Joel exists. 

“You’re late,” your dad chastises. “Practice was over at five today. It’s almost six.”

“Took the scenic route,” you reply easily, and Joel can hear the playful tone in your voice that lets everyone in the room know of your insincerity. 

You walk past them, backpack slung over one arm, but before you disappear inside you wink at him over your shoulder. 

“Get ready, Joel,” your dad tells him with an exasperated sigh. “Teenage girls are hell.”

And Joel is inclined to agree. Even more so when he’s laying in bed that night, wondering about all the things you could’ve been getting up to in that hour it took you to get home. The school was a short, ten minute walk from your house. And even if you truly did take the scenic route home, it wouldn’t have taken you an entire hour to arrive. 

So, what were you getting up to? Joel didn’t think you had a boyfriend. At least, not one you ever brought home. But not having a boyfriend didn’t mean anything. Not in this day and age. And Joel knew the mind of a teenage boy. He had been one, once upon a time, and knew without a doubt the lengths a boy your age would go to spend an hour alone with you. He thought about all of the things he was doing at eighteen, and his brain ran wild with those ideas.

After hours of laying there, unable to find sleep, Joel Miller took out his phone and opened a private search tab. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and he’d tried not to — truly, he had spent every minute since he’d closed his bedroom door trying to get the images out of his head. But it was like an itch he needed to scratch, becoming more and more irritating the longer he put it off. So, he typed cheerleader into the black and orange search bar and promised himself it was the one and only time he’d ever do this. 

He just needed to get it out of his system. That was all.

(If he was honest, Joel knew as soon as the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t true. Even when he scrolled through the videos to find a girl who looked strikingly similar to you. Even when he turned his volume all the way down, and reached into his sweatpants with his free hand. Even when he squeezed his eyes shut and thought of that rolled up skirt and that pretty pink lace, pornographic images long forgotten in favor of the ones you’d supplied. Even when a few quick tugs was all it took to shoot thick ropes of cum across his belly. Even when he cleared his search history, cleaned himself up, and rolled over to sleep…even then, he knew it would not be enough to get you out of his head.)

The next day, Joel saw you leaving for school and couldn’t bear to look in your eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done and feeling shameful, feeling like the very sordid man he knew himself not to be. He wasn’t a pervert, but he’d certainly felt like one that day.

You waved your hand and beamed like you did every morning. But Joel didn’t wave back. Oblivious to his atrocities, you played your hand at concern. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t… seem fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”

God—your voice, full of kindness and sweet summery grace, was better than the audio in any porno he’d ever seen. “I said I’m fine.”

Thankfully, you took the hint and scurried off, not dissimilar to a wounded animal. Guilt immediately choked him. But, pushing you away is what he’s supposed to do. So he doesn’t change his mind. 

At least, not at first.

He spends the entire summer going out of his way to avoid you. He offered to host guys nights at his house on the weekends instead of your dad's garage. He left for work five minutes earlier than normal to avoid having to hear you say good morning, Joel! and wave at him with those pretty red nails and smile at him with your pretty white teeth.

But once summer starts, you and Sarah begin spending way too much time together. And at first, it makes him nervous. You make him nervous. He doesn’t want to make small talk. He doesn't want to see you in your uniform. He doesn’t want to look at you at all, actually.

It works out in his favor though, Joel thinks, because you and Sarah have the same taste in movies, and she thinks you're the coolest thing that’s ever existed, and so whenever Joel and Tommy are in your garage, you’re at Joel’s house with Sarah. So he doesn’t have to be on edge, wondering if he’d turn the corner and you’d be standing there smelling like vanilla and wearing pink lace. 

But then you’re hosting a high school graduation party a few short months after you move in. And your dad invites Joel and Tommy to the party in your backyard. In fact, he practically begs them to come and keep him company. And Joel can’t say no, because what excuse would he have? Sarah would never let him skip it, anyway. And so his avoidance comes to an end, and he finds himself standing in your backyard with a glass bottle in his hands, watching people congratulate you and your accomplishments all day long. Straight A’s in all those AP classes you took, your dad tells him proudly, clicking his tongs together over the grill. Joel knows you’re a smart girl, he doesn’t need to know your grades to see that you have your head on straight, but he also knows you’re a far cry from the timid little girl your father believes you to be. Joel can see it in you. 

Still, you’re far smarter than he is, because while Tommy drones on and on about a project he’s got going on at home, all Joel can notice is the pretty sundress you’re wearing. It’s pink, like the lace that sometimes still haunts him. It clings to you at the top, molding sinfully against your chest, and flows out at the bottom, cutting off at your midthigh.

It’s too short, Joel thinks. Way too short to be wearing around so many male classmates. Around your dad’s friends. Tommy likes younger girls, you know. And Joel…Joel’s turning away from you and swallowing what’s left of his beer. He clinks the empty glass against Tommy’s and asks, “You need another?”

Your dad is the one who answers. “How about a shot of whiskey? The cabinet above the sink.”

Joel thinks it's a fantastic idea. He gets stopped by Mr. Adler on the way inside, who asks what the celebration is. He talks for far longer than he’d like, and by the time he gets to the kitchen, Joel really needs something stronger than beer. 

Except, when he steps into the room, he freezes the moment he sees you standing there. Your head whips in his direction, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught. It’s only as he tears his attention away from you and notices the two red solo cups on the counter and the bottle of tequila in your hands, perched over them, that he realizes what he’d just walked in on. 

Your cheeks are pink, the same hue as your dress, and you quickly try to explain it away. “Joel! Hey! This isn’t…I’m not like—you know, it’s just a celebration and…I’ll be nineteen soon and—I mean, it’s just a little .”

He raises his eyebrows, unsure of how to navigate this terrain. On the one hand, he feels the need to discipline you somehow. To turn this into a lesson of sorts, to let you know how the age of legal alcohol consumption is twenty one for a reason, that being drunk in a social setting like this is dangerous, especially for a girl like you.

But on the other hand, Joel knows he’s not responsible for you. He’s not your father, and he’s not going to be the one to give you the speech about underage drinking. He’d been far younger than eighteen-almost-nineteen the first time he’d gotten drunk. And you were right…this was a celebration. 

The war in his brain seemed to dim what little common sense he had because Joel found himself standing behind you with almost no room to spare. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the space. You’d curled your hair, and the ends tickled the inside of his arm. Soft. So, so soft he could die. He puts his big hand on your bare shoulder, and reaches above you into the cabinet, finding the half empty bottle of whiskey. His fingers twitch with the urge to squeeze your supple flesh. Christ. It’s just a fucking shoulder, Joel, he tells himself. “It’s your party,” he says. “I won’t tell.”

It feels wrong just to say it to you. I won’t tell. Perverted thing to say, Joel thinks. You spin around to face him, and suddenly your breasts are brushing his chest, and Joel can’t breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and sending him into his fucking grave. 

It’s then, as he stares down at you and you stare up at him all sweet and innocent-like, that Joel finally admits to himself that avoidance has done absolutely fucking nothing to put out the fire you started. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah—it’s, uhm…it’s no problem. Have fun.”

He turns to leave, but then your arms are around his neck and he can’t smell anything but vanilla and he can feel your tits pressing into him, can feel you everywhere. But Joel isn’t a mean man, so what can he do but hug you back? If someone walked in, they’d think it was a fatherly embrace. Proud. Protective, even. 

But they wouldn’t know that all Joel could think about is the way your skin felt under his calloused hands. Or the way your soft hair tickled his cheek as he laid it against the top of your head. Or the way your hips were nestled right between his thighs—and you were so warm and—

Intrusive thoughts.

“You’re the best, Joel,” you say, eyes bright and cheery. He’s relieved when you pull away, but also a little bit empty. He watches you pour a shot into each red solo cup. “You know, I’ve never tried whiskey. It seems so, like… manly .” You giggle, and it’s music to his ears but Joel begins to wonder if maybe this isn’t your first time stealing from the tequila bottle tonight. 

“It’s definitely not the best tasting thing in the world,” he says. “Gets the job done, though.”

To put the tequila away, you have to stand on the tips of your toes. It elongates your entire body as you stretch upwards, and he can’t bring himself to stop staring at the curve of your hips. “You have to be drunk to hang out with me or something?”

The question surprises him. Yes, he thinks. Yes, he does need to be inebriated to hang out with you because otherwise his sober mind never lets him forget the way you look all dolled up. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, Joel laughs quietly and says, “I’m here for your old man. You think he wants to be the lone adult in this sea of kids?”

He says it as a joke and is thankful you find humor in it. “I’m not a kid, Joel,” you remind him. “I’m a woman now. Is my company really so bad?” You tilt your head, pushing your bottom lip into the tiniest little pout. 

Joel needs to stop staring at your mouth. He knows it, because the urge rises in him to bite that lip, to surge forward and taste your tongue for remnants of tequila. The idea alone sends a bolt of white-hot desire straight to his dick. “No, no…s’not like that,” he says. He’s too focused on your face and the gleam in your pretty eyes to notice you’ve unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle. 

You pour a shot into an empty solo cup and hold it up between the two of you. “I’m scared,” you admit sheepishly. “Is it gross?”

The wrinkle in your nose is the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the sight forces his lips into a small smile. “I don’t think so,” he says. “But you might.”

“Because I’m a kid ?” You scoff, but shake your head and smile at him all the same. “Women mature faster than men, you know. Which means when I make my decisions, I know what I’m signing myself up for.” 

“Oh, is that so?” He remembers being this cocky as a teenager. He thinks maybe you’ve been spending too much time around Tommy and his defiant attitude is rubbing off on you. Joel offers a challenge—if you’re just so mature. “Drink up, then.”

He watches every microscopic movement as you lick your lips and lift the cup to your mouth. It’s a beautiful sight, watching you tilt your head back and swallow the tiniest bit. And when you pass the remaining liquid to him, your expression is fashioned from steel. Nonchalant, blank. 

But he sees it, sees the way your hands twitch at your sides, sees the way your jaw feathers as you clench your teeth. He can’t help but chuckle at your persistence. Joel turns the cup in his hands and puts his mouth right where you did. 

It’s almost like kissing, he thinks. Having his mouth where yours was seconds ago feels good. Better than he thought it would. And he can taste cherry-flavored chapstick before he can taste the whiskey, and he wonders when the last time was when he’d had a shot because it goes straight to his head and makes him feel drunk. Or maybe it’s just the wide smile that stretches across your face. 

“That’s awful,” you confess. “I’ll stick to tequila, I think.”

“Tequila’s worse,” he says with a shake of his head. Tequila makes Joel feel your age, makes him forget the word consequences, makes him buzz with energy. 

“No way,” you say. “The taste isn’t nearly as strong.”

While that may be true, it wasn’t about the taste at all and he doesn’t really know how to explain it. “Tequila encourages people to make bad decisions.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Bad decisions,” you echo contemplatively. “Sounds like a great time.” You take both of your tequila filled cups in hand and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for always keeping my secrets,” you whisper. 

Joel has to stand in the kitchen an extra few minutes after you leave because he still feels the ghost of your lips on his skin and doesn’t know how to act. Eventually, though, he finds the courage to face his brother and your father. He stays for the remainder of the party and helps your dad clean up the yard after everyone filters out. 

It’s a relief when he’s finally in his own bed that night. He tries to resist thinking of you. Truly, he does — but it’s no use, and he’s alone in his bed, and this time he doesn’t even reach for his phone when he touches himself. 

And it’s good. So good that he tries to draw it out. He tries his damndest to make it last. But his efforts become futile in just minutes, because he can feel your soft lips, can taste cherry chapstick, and he’s right there—right fucking there—when his bedroom door creaks open. 

“Joel?”

For a second, he’s convinced himself he’s gone crazy. He’s well and truly lost it now, and his fantasies have grown into hallucinations at this point. You’ve driven him batshit insane. But his eyes focus in the dark, and he realizes his mind isn’t playing tricks on him at all. “What are you doing here?”

You take it as an invitation, and he desperately wishes you wouldn’t. He can still feel the buzz from the beer and whiskey, and his cock is hard beneath the sheets, and his brain is filled with images of you, and you’re in nothing but spandex shorts and a loose tank top, and when you sit on the side of his bed you lay your hand on his knee for balance and Joel’s hands shake. 

“How did you even get in?”

“I used the key under the mat,” you confess. “I need your help.” Your voice is so mousy and soft, and it pulls him back to his senses. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You were right,” you tell him. “I made a bad tequila decision and now I’m sad.” 

Joel doesn’t know what to say. You couldn’t possibly still be tipsy, he thinks. It’s been hours since he saw you in the kitchen, but he supposes you very well could’ve gone back after everyone left. Either way, you’d come to him to fix it, and even knowing the right thing would be to call your dad, he was still high on the second secret you two shared. So, Joel sighs and puts his hand on yours. “What did you do?”

“I snuck a boy into my room,” you say.

Joel’s jaw clenches. Anger rises in his chest, crawls up his throat, and chokes him. A million things cross his mind—first, what the hell did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Joel would find the boy and break his fucking jaw. Did he touch you? Maybe he’d break the boy's hands instead. Or, worse, did he touch you when you didn’t want him to? The thought alone has his heart beating so fast he thinks he might die. Slowly, quietly, he asks, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you sigh. And it isn’t one of those teenage girl nothings, it’s sincere. You climb over him to the other side of the mattress, and Joel thinks he should stop you but the sight of you in his bed is so fucking pretty that he can’t bring himself to. “That’s the problem. I wanted him to fuck me.”

The words give him pause. Everything freezes. 

“But he didn’t want to,” you say. “Even though we were flirting all day.” You turn on your side, hands beneath your head. “I don’t get it. Is it because I’m not pretty?”

He can’t stop the snort that leaves him at that. Joel can’t believe you’d wonder about it for even a second.

“Do you think I’m pretty, Joel?”

If there’s anything in the world he hates, it’s this. He wonders a little if maybe you’re antagonizing him. It’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? So why does saying yes feel so… heavy? Weighted? He decides it best to keep the conversation directed away from his personal opinion on the matter. “Of course you’re pretty, baby.”

Baby? God. Maybe he has lost his fucking mind.

But it seems to bring you so much joy he doesn’t have it in him to regret it. You wrap your small hands around his bicep, and he can feel the heat in your touch, and it’s like he’s burning from the inside out. And when you turn a little more and bring your leg across his hips, Joel can’t breathe. 

He wonders if you can tell how hard he is, wonders how he’s supposed to push you away when you just keep withering away his resolve. If he hasn’t lost his mind yet, he’s about to. “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?”

The words hit him like a freight train. But after a second, he realizes that you actually mean sleep —and he knows it’s a bad idea still because he’s having those intrusive thoughts once more. But he can’t say no. So instead he says, “I don’t think your dad would be comfortable with that.”

“I’ll tell him I had a sleepover with Sarah,” you quickly supplied. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He doesn’t either. But Joel knows he should be. And if not alone, certainly not with you. And yet, he says nothing. Not yes or no, just nothing. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I think about you all the time,” you say. “I thought you were mad at me for a while. That made me sad, too.”

It made his chest ache to think he had caused you any harm. But it was for the best, wasn’t it? You probably just saw him as someone to seek comfort in, and he saw you as something entirely different. He was no good. Definitely not for you. 

A few minutes pass, and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you kiss his cheek again in the same spot as this afternoon and say, “Thank you, Joel.” And he feels so wrong. He feels awful, and selfish, and greedy, and desperate, and perverted.

He thinks that’s the end of it. But then you kiss his jaw, and this time it’s an open mouthed kiss that leaves wetness on his skin. Joel shivers. 

You kiss his neck, and his cock throbs inches from your thigh. He should stop this. He knows that. Joel isn’t a stupid man—he’s just a bad man. He doesn’t stop you when you climb into his lap. He doesn’t stop you when your tongue darts out between your lips as you kiss his collarbone. He doesn’t stop you when your kisses grow heated and heavy.

And when you kiss his lips, he doesn’t stop himself from kissing you back. He doesn’t stop himself from threading his fingers through your silky hair to pull you in deeper. He doesn’t stop himself from biting that bottom lip and sucking off the cherry flavor. He doesn’t stop himself from slipping his tongue into your mouth, or from lifting his hips just a little bit, pushing himself against you. The friction pulls a low groan from somewhere in the back of his throat, and Joel knows he won't be able to ever stop himself now. 

You take the small movement as your cue to unleash yourself and roll your hips against his even harder. He can feel the wet heat radiating from you even through the spandex shorts, can feel his benevolence fading into the ether. You let out a breathless moan when you roll your hips again, and again, and again. And he curses, muscles tight, and feels a confession on the tip of his tongue. Joel wants you to say it, just once — wants to hear his name in your mouth shrouded in lust. He’s imagined it so many times, but he wants to hear it. 

But then you pull away abruptly. “Joel?”

You sound mousy again, and he feels suddenly ice cold. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

He holds your hair away from your face for the remainder of the night as you vomit up the rest of the tequila in your stomach. You apologize over and over again and greedily drink up the water he brings you. 

Normally, Joel would hate this. But it’s you, and something feels good about taking care of you. About making sure you’re safe, making sure you feel pretty even with sweat coating your pallid skin.

You fall asleep sometime in the middle of the night, and Joel carries you to his bed. He doesn’t climb in next to you. He can’t because he already feels bad enough for allowing a drunk eighteen year old girl into his bed. It’s his turn to feel nauseous. Shame smothers him, and guilt, and mortification…Joel knows he should feel regret, too. But he doesn’t. 

Sometime before sunrise, he nods off with his head resting against the bedside table. He doesn’t hear you leave, but when he wakes an hour later you’ve vacated the room. 

He wonders if you remember how you ended up in his bed, if you remember how eager he was to taste your mouth, if you remember anything at all. He hopes not, because that would mean a conversation he was not equipped to handle. 

When he trudges down to the kitchen, Joel stops upon the sight before him. Sarah sits at the kitchen table beside Tommy, who’s sitting across from your dad. And then there’s you—standing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand and two still-wet braids in your hair.

It isn’t the fact that you’re in his kitchen, making pancakes for everyone, padding barefoot on the tile that makes him anxious. No one in the room can read his thoughts. They wouldn’t know how much it pleases him to see it. They wouldn’t know how he thinks he could get used to this, but knows he can’t.

No…no, it’s the fact that you’re wearing his flannel that makes him anxious. Your father wears flannels on occasion…but this one is so plainly Joel’s that he wonders why your dad is sitting there laughing at something Sarah said instead of killing Joel with his bare hands. He swallows thickly and pours himself a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning,” you say cheerily, as if last night hadn’t happened. He thinks you’ve forgotten, or maybe just decided not to ever mention it again.

It was only a lapse in judgment, after all, wasn’t it? Just a split second where you and Joel both lost all sense. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. “Morning,” he responds. 

You ask him to help carry one of the heaping plates of fluffy pancakes to the table. When he reaches for the taller one, your hand brushes against his and Joel nearly jumps out of his skin at the contact. But then you’re holding your pinky out to him expectantly, and whisper, “Our little secret.” 

The vanilla scent is gone, Joel notices. You smell like irish spring instead. Realization dawns on him that you must have showered while he was asleep— and used his body wash. There’s something about that little tidbit of information that sits with him. He likes it, he thinks. He likes smelling himself all over you, likes that something possessed you to use his things without asking. Something inside of him shifts, something… intense. 

He knows he shouldn’t, but Joel winds his pinky finger around yours anyway. It feels so good to have yet another thing between the two of you. Something of yours that belongs only to him. It makes him feel giddy as if he wasn’t running on a single sip of coffee and an hour of sleep.

The remainder of the summer goes on without incident. You don’t end up in Joel’s bed again, though you never once leave his intrusive thoughts. He sees you sometimes, tanning in the backyard. He has a perfect view from his bedroom window, and he wonders if maybe you wear those tiny bikini tops for his benefit. But he never asks, even during the few moments you have alone, and is content to pine after you but not touch for the rest of his painfully sorry life. 

He works. You taunt him. He plays pool in your garage. You come home late in too little clothes and smelling of vanilla scented tequila. Joel says nothing, though. He listens and agrees with your dad that since graduating you’ve become a little wild . A little… defiant. They dance around the word bad, but Joel knows the truth. Knows that more than anything, you need a little bit of discipline. 

You’re not his to correct, though. So he doesn’t. He certainly enjoys watching you, however. He watches you sneak out through your window one night when he’s sitting on the porch. You press your finger to your lips, creating another secret between the two of you. He walks into the kitchen one night to find you filling a vodka bottle with water. Joel says nothing—but after grabbing another beer he’s got a smile on his lips he can’t seem to shake. 

He’s mowing the grass in the backyard one sunny afternoon, and he catches a glimpse of something he shouldn’t. Joel holds a lot of your secrets close these days, but this one is…different. 

Through your bedroom window, he can see you changing. The curtain is wide open, and you’re wearing nothing but that same pink bra he first saw you in, matching panties, and those knee high socks you used to wear with your cheer uniform. He’s not sure if you’re getting out of your clothes or into ones more comfortable, but he knows he can’t look away. His mouth is dry, and all the blood in his head rushes south. He thinks you’re beautiful. He wants to touch you so badly it’s overwhelming. The supple curves of your hips, the soft tendrils of your hair down your back, the swell of your breasts— God, you’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

And then you pick something up from the floor, and Joel realizes a second later that you’re putting on his flannel. The one you stole at the beginning of the summer. Do you wear it often? Do you always wear it alone, half naked in your bedroom? His lips part and his breath catches in his throat. He’s not there. He’s just standing in his backyard, ruining this patch of grass…but a part of him is. Something of his is there, with you, touching you, and somehow it sets him on fire. 

Especially when he watches you climb into bed. He won’t watch you sleep, he decides. He might have intrusive thoughts and secrets and uncontrollable fantasies, but he’s not a creep. 

Except you don’t go to sleep, so Joel continues to watch. He watches you run red painted fingers over your bare skin, between your breasts, over your belly, and back up. You do it again, slower this time, and Joel’s cock strains in his jeans. He watches you slip your hand beneath the band of your panties. He can’t see any details from this far away, but his breathing synchronizes with the speed of your fingers.

Suddenly, he remembers you’re still in his flannel. Realizes that you put it on to touch yourself. Pressure builds in his cock, and he finally admits that yeah— maybe he’s a little bit of a perv. But only for you—there’s something about you that drives him fucking insane. 

He stands there and watches you touch yourself until you finish. He revels in the small arch of your back, in the tremble of your legs, in the way your chest heaves with each ragged breath on the come down. He wants to clean you up with his fucking tongue. 

Joel doesn’t finish mowing the lawn that night.

When you go off to college, he can’t deny what a massive relief it is. You move across Texas to some campus far away, and the distance makes him feel like he can breathe easily again. He stops having so many disgusting, intrusive thoughts. He stops feeling guilty every time he plays pool with your dad because those secrets he kept for you were ones that don’t truly matter. Not when you’re nowhere to be found, anyway. 

As the year stretches on, Joel realizes that he’d been wrong all along. He wasn’t a pervert. You are a seductress. Even Tommy jokes about the obvious schoolgirl crush you had and admits one night when it’s just the two brothers that if you had thrown yourself at him, he wouldn’t have been able to resist you so easily as Joel had.

It’s not him that’s in the wrong. It’s you. You and your soft hair. You and your pretty smile. You and your red nails. You and your pink lace. You and your soft voice. You, you, you. 

For several years, those intrusive thoughts haven't plagued him. Not until your junior year of college, when some problem with campus housing surfaces and you’re forced to stay at home for a few days. Your dad is excited about it and forces the four of you to go out to dinner together to catch up. 

He sees you for the first time in so long, and you look so different but somehow even prettier. You’re wearing a short white dress, and Sarah tells you you look like an angel, and Joel silently agrees. You have a tattoo on the inside of your wrist. It’s the tiniest little image of two hands with their pinkies wrapped around one another, and he thinks it’s so fitting for a girl with so many secrets. 

Every time you look at him during dinner, Joel shifts in his seat. He isn’t very hungry. Not for food, anyway. He’s a little floored when you proudly present your shiny, brand new ID to the waitress and order a fruity pink drink called a Paloma. You explain that it has tequila in it, and share a subtle glance across the table, and Joel feels his insides warm as if he was the one drinking a cocktail instead. 

He drowns himself in work the entire week. He cannot— cannot afford to find himself back in his old ways. You’re a woman now. A fully grown woman, who no longer needs validation from older men. He knows you're not interested. He knows this time, this time, it really is Joel who’s the problem. Avoidance, surprisingly, works. 

Until you knock on the door one night with a DVD in your hand. “Is Sarah home? I found my old copy of Evil Dead. She said she missed having movie nights.”

Joel shakes his head. “No, uhm—she spent the night with a friend. Sorry.”

“Oh,” you deflate. “That’s okay, I get it. She’s older now. It’s…”

“Weird,” he finishes. 

You laugh softly, and the sound brings a smile to his face. “Yeah, really weird,” you agree. “I just hope she’s nothing like me.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes darken, and Joel asks himself why he’s attempting to make conversation at all. It’s dangerous. He knows this. 

“You know,” you say purposefully. “All those secrets? There were definitely more.”

For a reason he can’t pinpoint, it makes him a little annoyed. He knew it the whole time—of course,  he knew there were more secrets than just the ones he was privy to. But a part of him wanted to know you better than anyone else. And maybe he did, for a second, but that second was long gone now. It was probably over moments after it began. “Yeah, well…that’s different.”

“How so? She’s only a little younger than I was when I met you.”

It’s an accusation. Joel can feel it. He can feel the anger seeping through your fake sweetness, too. But he doesn’t understand it. He didn’t do anything wrong. “You’re not my daughter. That’s what’s different.”

You roll your eyes, and his hands twitch with the urge to grab you by the jaw. “God, Joel—you’re such a pussy. Do you know that?”

Your words startle him. A crease forms between his brows, and he takes another step out of the doorway. “ Excuse me ?”

“Just say it! Say what you so desperately want to say. I can take it. Say it.”

The words come out slow and deadly, sounding far meaner than intended. “Say what?” 

“Tell me it’s different because I’m a slut. It’s okay, Joel. It’s just the two of us now. Go ahead. Admit it.”

His jaw ticks. 

“What, you think I’m dumb? You think I don’t hear you laugh at Tommy’s jokes when I walk out of a room? You think I didn’t know you guys called me jailbait for years?” You laugh cynically, arms crossed over your chest, and Joel thinks he’s never seen you so angry. So heated. 

So hot.

He grabs your elbow and yanks you close. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

Your face is inches from his, and he can smell vanilla and cherry and something happens. Something familiar and unique to you. Something disgusting. “And you know what the worst part of it all is?”

The worst part is that he’s twice your age. The worst part is that he’s known you since you were in high school. The worst part is that he’s friends with your father. The worst part is that you’re friends with his daughter. The worst part is that those perverted thoughts were never involuntary. They were never unavoidable. They were never unwanted. They were never intrusive. 

“You like it,” you say with a smirk. “You like that I dress up in short skirts for you, and you like it when I climb in your bed when someone else leaves me unsatisfied. I almost finished that day, did you know?”

“ Jesus—fuck —don’t—”

“You barely touched me but I was so close just sitting in your lap. You like that I put on your clothes and touch myself in front of my window, hoping you’ll see. You like that I’m a slut for you, Joel Miller. Admit it. It’s okay. It’ll be our little secret .”

He pulls you into the house and slams the front door closed. His blood boils beneath his skin. He should have slammed it in your face, he thinks. But you’re here now—trapped inside with him. Or maybe he’s trapped inside with you. 

The pleased smile on your face is his undoing. His breath comes fast, and he knows if he moves an inch there will never be any going back from this. So he doesn’t move. His limbs are frozen and his eyes are fixed on yours.

After a couple of tense filled seconds, your smile falters. Joel sees it. He hears the slight change in your voice too, as you confess, “I want you to touch me so badly.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck —Joel holds your face in his hands and slams his mouth to yours. You taste just the same; cherry sweet and delicious. It’s his favorite flavor, he thinks. Better than any forbidden fruit. Your tongue is so soft against his and impossibly more greedy. You invade his mouth, his soul, his heart. 

It happens so fast, and so easily. Your arms loop around his neck and Joel pulls you flush against him and grips the back of your thighs. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, hips already rolling against him like some feral thing inside of you is desperately clawing to get out. His cock has never been this hard, Joel knows. And he knows—he knows that he could cum just like this. Touching you, tasting you, feeling your softness. It’s enough. 

Still, he wants more. He wants to see you fall apart. He wants to reach inside your chest and make you feel what he feels, make you feel tortured the way he’s been for years. 

Joel walks to the sofa and sits with his legs spread wide. You’re still kissing him with everything you have, and it’s a clash of tongues and lips and teeth that he loves so much it’s an effort to thread his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull you away, but he does it. You’re both panting, and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact. His cock is throbbing, straining behind his jeans. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby,” he says breathlessly. “You wanna act like a slut for me, be a slut for me.”

He fists your dress in his hands and pulls it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. And then it’s just you, sitting in Joel’s lap, wearing nothing but pink, lace panties and a pair of strappy white heels. You’re so pretty, and he’s always known it—but seeing you up close has him weak. He can’t keep himself from touching you, from running his hands over your hips and living the fantasy he’s existed in for what feels like forever. 

Once he starts, Joel can’t stop. He runs his calloused palms over your belly, your ribs, allowing his thumbs to ghost across the underside of your breasts. He moves slowly, meticulously, enjoying every moment. And when you hook your thumbs in the band of your panties with the intention to remove them, he places his hands over yours. “Hell no,” he says. “You think you can tell me you almost finished in my lap that night and get away with it?” 

“But, I—”

“Nuh-uh. Prove it.”

Hesitantly, you tilt your hips against his. He wishes he was in only sweatpants the way he was that night because his jeans are keeping the feeling of your wetness away from him this time. But he can see it—the baby pink fabric is darker at the apex, and as you grind your hips against his Joel realizes you’re creating a mess on his clothes, too. 

He understands. He really, really does. He feels it, too. Joel understands how desperate and needy you are. And because he’s just so understanding, he grants you a little reprieve. He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth. He’s real sweet about it too, giving you the same tender treatment your mouth gave him that night in his room. He licks the hardened peak softly, swirling his tongue, and you let out the prettiest moan he’s ever heard. The pace of your hips picks up, rolling against the bulge in his jeans faster. 

“Oh, god,” you whimper. Your breath catches, and he can hear your heart beating rapidly behind your ribcage. He peppers kisses across your sternum and inhales deeply, sucking in a breath that’s nothing but you and holding it in his lungs. He kisses your other nipple and pinches the one wet with his spit between his thumb and forefinger. 

He sucks your nipple into his mouth and groans when you fist your hands in his hair. You sound so pretty, he thinks—and he leans back on the couch to admire just how pretty you look. He can’t catch his breath, but he doesn’t mind.

Your pace falters the slightest bit, and your chest is heaving a little slower now. He sinks lower into the couch and thrusts his hips up into you—once, twice, and your legs are shaking. “Aww,” he coos. “You’re so sensitive, baby. Look at you.”

Too lost in your own bliss, Joel decides to help you, to teach you. He grabs your chin and forces it down, forces your attention to where your bodies are joined.

“I told you to look,” he repeats. Joel turns his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them taught, creating even more pressure against your clit. The pink fabric immediately becomes darker, sopping up some of the mess you’ve created on top of him, and Joel intends to make good on his wish to clean you up with his tongue. But not yet—not when you still have something to prove. “You gonna cum just like that? Hm?”

You nod frantically, your attention flickering between his dark eyes and your panties clutched between his thick fingers. “ Yes,” you tell him, legs trembling. Your pace is quick, and each roll of your hips becomes shorter and shorter. And with Joel moving underneath you it only takes seconds more before you combust. “Oh, fuck—fuck—I’m coming, I’m coming—!”

“That’s it,” he says, and you feel the deep timbre of his voice skitter across your skin like embers. “There you go. You’re being such a good slut for me, hm?”

When your orgasm finally fizzles out, you fall limply forward and Joel is there to catch you, like he always has been, like he silently vows he always will be. He rubs soothing circles against your spine and presses sweet kisses into your hair, waiting patiently as you try and regain what little composure you have left. 

You lift your head from the crook of his neck, and your eyes are glossy and your bottom lip is swollen and your cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, and Joel thinks you’ve never been more beautiful. But then you slide from his lap to the floor in one fluid movement, and he realizes that this is the prettiest you’ve ever been; on your knees before him, eyes bright with anticipation and excitement. You place your hands on top of his strong thighs, look up at him through your lashes and ask softly, “Can I suck your dick, Joel?”

He has to squeeze his eyes shut. He has to because his cock is so fucking hard and your voice is so sweet and filthy he can’t handle it. He breathes in slowly through his nose and says, “Of course you can, baby.”

Without a moment's hesitation, you unbuckle his belt. The metal clinks in your fingers, and Joel’s heart is racing when you unbutton his jeans and hook your thumbs through the loops to tug them down. His cock snaps against his belly, and you lick your pink lips.

You take it in your hands, and Joel aches when you swipe your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum. He can’t believe this is really happening, that you’re really here, running your sweet, sweet tongue over every inch of his cock. You’re tasting him, savoring him, and Joel wonders if it pleases you to see him all bent out of shape like this. 

He prides himself on his masculinity. He’s always been a strong man, one who handles his shit on his own. Maybe it’s the Texas in him, but Joel’s always had traditional values. He’s always been the provider, the protector—he’s always been the one in charge. But when you wrap your lips around him and ease his cock into your hot, wet mouth, he’s at your complete mercy. 

“ Fuck,” he hisses, hands going to your hair. He tangles the silky strands between his fingers, and you hollow out our cheeks, creating a suction that has him groaning. He feels each pass of your lips down his spine, pressure forming low in his belly. “Just like that, pretty girl.”

You wrap your hand around the base and stroke the length you can’t fit into your mouth, and his grip in your hair tightens. Your nails are painted red—and the look of them wrapped around his cock is far better than he’d ever been able to imagine in his head. It’s so good that he doesn’t want to stop, he wants to cum just like this. He wants to expend himself at the back of your throat and watch his cum leak out of your mouth.

But Joel doesn’t get too far ahead of himself. There are other things, filthier things he wants to do to you than fill your mouth up. You let out a whiny groan as if sucking him off is somehow more pleasurable for you than it is for him. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and the vibrations nearly send him over the edge, but Joel rips your head back to prolong this precious time with you. 

Your eyes are glassy, makeup smeared, lips swollen. You give him a beaming smile and Joel huffs a breath. “Did I do a good job?”

“ Yes, baby,” he says. “You did so well. C’mere, stand up.” You do as told, even though your legs are wobbly, and Joel lifts your foot into his lap. He unbuckles the straps of your heel, takes it off and sets it aside. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and repeats the action with the other one, and then proceeds to pull your panties down your legs. He helps you out of the pink lace, and he knows he shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself and shoves them between the couch cushions, where he hopes you’ll forget about them.

He presses his mouth to your hip bone, an open mouthed kiss that leaves goosebumps in its wake as he does the same to your other side. “That feels so good,” you tell him.

Joel keeps peppering wet kisses across your belly, below your navel, over your pubic bone. Your thighs are pressed together, and you’re shifting on your feet in anticipation, and Joel can see the shiny wetness coating your pussy. He reaches between your legs and so gently slides his middle finger teasingly over your slit. It comes away sticky and wet, and he can’t resist the urge to lick the digit clean. It’s heady and sweet, and he feels drunker than whiskey or tequila has ever made him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, forehead falling against your abdomen. “What are you doing to me?”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “I want you so bad, Joel. Please touch me.” Your hands are in his hair, stroking the unruly curls and lightly pulling.

The word please in your mouth sounds so fucking cute, so needy and desperate. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to be a good man when you exist? He can’t, Joel knows. So long as you’re near—he’ll never be a good man. Only a bad one. Only a perverse one. He hooks his arm around your leg and lifts it over his shoulder, keeping his other hand wrapped around your waist for balance, and lets himself taste you fully, to drink from the source. 

And Jesus Christ, Joel loses it. He laps at your pussy, swallowing you up. He cleans up the mess you made in his lap, relishing in the decadence. He could do this for hours, he thinks. Could swirl his tongue around your swollen clit, could suck it between his lips, and kiss it softly for the rest of his life. He breathes in slowly, taking your scent deep into his lungs, and wonders why he’d ever want to come up for air. Your moans are music to his ears.

He dares a glance up at you to watch your expression when he reaches beneath you and slips a finger easily into your dripping pussy. 

Your head falls back, your mouth falls open, and Joel falls in love. 

The noises you make are obscene as you grind against his face, but not nearly as much as the sounds he’s making from between your legs. He’s groaning with your clit in his mouth and you’re creating a puddle in his palm, and it’s so sloppy and disgusting and he fucking loves it. 

Joel silently admits that you were right; that he loves your obscenities. He loves your secrets. He loves your defiance. He loves your depravity. 

He loves that you’re such a fucking slut. 

“Oh, god— Joel—!”

He pulls away because if you’re going to moan out his name again it’s going to be because of his cock. He stands abruptly, keeping one hand at the small of your back, and holds your jaw. With your face tilted up towards him, he smirks as he watches tears form in your eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Why did you stop?” Your voice is so whiny, so hopeless and frantic that it makes his cock twitch. “You were about to make me cum,” you say.

He kisses you hard, and you moan into his mouth, and Joel runs out of patience. He lifts you up and lays your back flat against the couch. He’s hovering over you, and his cock is just inches from the place it’s wept to be inside for so many years. Joel rolls it against you, gasping at the feel of your pussy on the underside of his cock. You’re so wet, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to last long enough for this to be good for you. 

But he’s determined. “ Joel,” you beg breathlessly, bucking your hips to try and find just the right angle where he slips inside.

“Yeah, baby?” He tilts his head slightly, watching as your eyes flicker back and forth between his hips and his predatory grin. 

“You’re being mean,” you say. “Stop teasing me. Just put it in, Joel, I need it so bad.”

He kisses your forehead. “S’that right?”

“Yes!”

It’s impossible, he thinks, to hold back his laugh. “You’re so fucking cute, baby,” he says. “Say please.”

“ Please! Please, please ple—!”

Joel lets out a ragged breath as he pushes into you. Finally, he thinks. Finally, finally, finally. “Fuck.”

It’s so much better than he ever imagined. He sinks in deep until your hips are flush, and even then he pushes your knee back to open you up and get impossibly deeper. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, and Joel kisses you to swallow up the beautiful sound. 

You take him like you were made for his cock. And maybe you were, because Joel had never known it could be this fucking good. He knows it’ll never be this good again. “You’re taking it like such a good slut, baby,” he whispers into your ear, tongue sliding up your neck. He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, the sudden change in force ripping a cry from your throat. “Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.”

With your arms and legs wrapped around him, Joel fucks you slow. Real slow, real deep—he’s touching parts of you you didn’t even know existed. You feel so full and pressure coils around your spine. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, yes yes— mmm—!”

He sets a steady pace, hitting that soft spot inside of you every time. He reaches between your bodies and swipes this thumb over your clit. “Say thank you, baby.”

You look right into his eyes, warm and dark and full of devotion. You say, “ Thank you, Joel,” and you suddenly remember the same memory he does of that first day. 

He remembers how pretty you looked on your knees, and you remember how you spent that whole night in your bed touching yourself to him. 

And now it’s happened, it’s finally happened, and his cock is buried deep inside of you and his thumb is pressing hard against your clit and before he realizes it, your pussy is squeezing him as you cum. 

Tremors rock through your body, legs shaking and red painted fingernails clawing at his back. He keeps his same steady pace and says, “Give it to me, baby. Good fucking girl, being such a good little slut for me. That’s it. Give it to me. There you go.”

Even when your muscles loosen, you keep your limbs wound around him tight. Like even though you’ve finished and he’s seconds away from following you there, you still want him as close as possible. It makes him feel tender. “I want you to cum inside me,” you say, and Joel’s cock spasms in your tight pussy. “Cum in me, Joel, please —fill me up.”

He shouldn’t, he really fucking shouldn’t, but he already is, and stars blur his vision. Joel fights through the blindness though, and squeezes your cheeks in his hand. “Look at me,” he orders, and looking at your face makes him cum even harder. You take his thumb into your mouth, soft tongue circling it. And Joel bottoms out inside of you, has the best orgasm of his entire fucking life inside of a girl half his age, but cannot bring himself to regret a single second.

The weight of him over you is heavy but comforting. It’s perfect, and helps you catch your breath. Joel is panting, and you smell like vanilla and irish spring and cherry chapstick and when his eyes close, he wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Your fingers are stroking his spine lazily when the fear creeps in. Do you regret it? Now that it’s out of your system, do you wish you’d never have done it? Never have taunted him, never had let him keep all those secrets, never have come over tonight? The Evil Dead DVD sits on the floor by the front door, abandoned. 

There couldn’t have been much tequila in your mixed drink. You didn’t taste like alcohol at all. But still, you’d had some—do you feel like maybe he took advantage of you? 

Joel is afraid to look at you. He’s afraid to open his mouth, to ask if you’re alright, to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness. 

But then you ask him softly, “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?”

He hears the echo of those words, and wonders if you do, too. You wince as he finally sits up and pulls himself out of you. He knows he should say no, but he can’t. Instead, he asks, “Will you make pancakes in the morning?”

The sound of your girlish laughter greets him and calms his fears for now. “Anything you want.”

Joel stops at the bathroom on the way to his bed and cleans the sticky mess from between your legs. It’s then as he realizes how many unhinged decisions he’d made tonight. He doesn’t know if you’ve slept with other people without protection, doesn’t know if you’re on birth control, doesn’t know if you’d be willing to take a contraceptive pill in the morning if you’re not, doesn’t know anything. The distance, while easier, has taken so much of you from him. And the realization leaves Joel cold. 

You’re so young, and he’s so much older than you…if the worst happened, would it even be the worst? Do you even want kids? 

A new fantasy emerges in his brain. The first one since admitting to himself that it’s a little more than just an intrusive thought. You’re standing on the back porch with a beaming smile, hand over your eyes to block out the bright summer sun while he mows the lawn. You’re in a pretty pink sundress, and your belly is swollen with Joel’s baby, and his knees buckle as he leads you to his bedroom. 

You climb in beside him, and he holds you under the blankets a little tighter than you hold him. Emotion chokes him. Joel swallows it down. But then you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I want to keep you,” he confesses. “I want to keep you forever.”

For a moment, it’s quiet. He wonders if maybe you think he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t have anything else to say. 

“So do it,” you whisper. 

“But I can’t.”

“You can,” you tell him with a sigh. “You can, Joel. That’s the real secret.”

The words reverberate through him. They clang around in his brain and leave him with something akin to elation. You kiss his jaw, and Joel thinks maybe you might be right. Maybe he will keep you. 

But for tonight, having you here pressed against him with the promise of pancakes in the morning is enough.

[PART TWO]

[masterlist]

divider by @thecutestgrotto <3