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asahicore · 4 months ago

Text

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored.

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?”

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum.

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions.

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child.

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.”

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours.

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back.

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate.

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion.

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss.

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you.

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands.

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all.

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking.

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon.

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past.

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake.

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright.

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles.

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes.

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come.

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in.

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth.

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him.

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting.

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one.

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter.

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.”

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine.

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him.

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.”

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed.

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks.

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to.

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing.

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out.

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream.

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh.

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen au #sunghoon au #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction

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anaquariusfox · 6 months ago

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I spent the evening looking into this AI shit and made a wee informative post of the information I found and thought all artists would be interested and maybe help yall?

edit: forgot to mention Glaze and Nightshade to alter/disrupt AI from taking your work into their machines. You can use these and post and it will apparently mess up the AI and it wont take your content into it's machine!

edit: ArtStation is not AI free! So make sure to read that when signing up if you do! (this post is also on twt)

[Image descriptions: A series of infographics titled: “Opt Out AI: [Social Media] and what I found.” The title image shows a drawing of a person holding up a stack of papers where the first says, ‘Terms of Service’ and the rest have logos for various social media sites and are falling onto the floor. Long transcriptions follow.

Instagram/Meta (I have to assume Facebook).

Hard for all users to locate the “opt out” options. The option has been known to move locations.

You have to click the opt out link to submit a request to opt out of the AI scraping. *You have to submit screenshots of your work/face/content you posted to the app, is curretnly being used in AI. If you do not have this, they will deny you.

Users are saying after being rejected, are being “meta blocked”

People’s requests are being accepted but they still have doubts that their content won’t be taken anyways.

Twitter/X

As of August 2023, Twitter’s ToS update:

“Twitter has the right to use any content that users post on its platform to train its AI models, and that users grant Twitter a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to do so.”

There isn’t much to say. They’re doing the same thing Instagram is doing (to my understanding) and we can’t even opt out.

Tumblr

They also take your data and content and sell it to AI models.

But you’re in luck!

It is very simply to opt out (Wow. Thank Gods)

Opt out on Desktop: click on your blog > blog settings > scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle

Out out of Mobile: click your blog > scroll then click visibility > toggle opt out option

TikTok

I took time skim their ToS and under “How We Use Your Information” and towards the end of the long list: “To train and improve our technology, such as our machine learning models and algorithms.”

Regarding data collected; they will only not sell your data when “where restricted by applicable law”. That is not many countries. You can refuse/disable some cookies by going into settings > ads > turn off targeted ads.

I couldn’t find much in AI besides “our machine learning models” which I think is the same thing.

What to do?

In this age of the internet, it’s scary! But you have options and can pick which are best for you!

Accepting these platforms collection of not only your artwork, but your face! And not only your faces but the faces of those in your photos. Your friends and family. Some of those family members are children! Some of those faces are minors! I shudder to think what darker purposes those faces could be used for.

Opt out where you can! Be mindful and know the content you are posting is at risk of being loaded to AI if unable to opt out.

Fully delete (not archive) your content/accounts with these platforms. I know it takes up to 90 days for instagram to “delete” your information. And even keep it for “legal” purposes like legal prevention.

Use lesser known social media platforms! Some examples are; Signal, Mastodon, Diaspora, et. As well as art platforms: Artfol, Cara, ArtStation, etc.

The last drawing shows the same person as the title saying, ‘I am, by no means, a ToS autistic! So feel free to share any relatable information to these topics via reply or qrt!

I just wanted to share the information I found while searching for my own answers cause I’m sure people have the same questions as me.’ \End description] (thank you @a-captions-blog!)

#anti ai #ethics

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highvern · 7 months ago

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Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

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#kvanity #ksmutsociety #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #🫡 highvern

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littlexdeaths · 7 months ago

Text

what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader #best friend!eddie munson

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itsmarsss · 6 months ago

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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