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astonmartinii · 2 days ago

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other side of the moon - chapter two | formula one imagine

chapter two: a dutchman and an italian in london

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

y/n still has a decision to make, maybe a little visit can sway her vote

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PREVIOUS PART

the next morning y/n found herself sat on her couch with only brando’s loud purrs breaking the stifling silence. the letter from kimi sat on the coffee table collecting the condensation from y/n’s abandoned glass of orange juice as she continued to mull over the decision.

stuck in her mind, y/n stopped petting brando and stared off into the grey skies of west london. she told herself over and over again that decisions like this should be easy. simply, if she wanted to do it, she would’ve known the first time the offer was floated to her. but she didn’t have that immediate burst of excitement, instead she felt her heart stop and hairs on the back of her neck stand up. in that moment y/n had realised that a place that ignited that kind of reaction in her was not a place she needed to be - therapy had worked it seems.

but then again, if it was such a sure no, why wouldn’t it leave her mind? pictures of her in black alongside the young italian, back at the tracks she loved and around the people she admired flashed across her mind.

three polite knocks rung out across the apartment. y/n wasn’t expecting visitors and the front desk hadn’t notified her of any visits or deliveries. it was probably mrs. granger from down the hall forgetting which door was which again so she ignored it and went back to petting brando.

three more knocks, a little more urgent this time, came ringing through the rooms. brando’s ears perked up as he jumped down from the couch and trotted towards the front door.

“brando, come back here,”

y/n whisper-shouted towards the cat who neglected to heed her warnings. tiptoeing into the kitchen, y/n rifled through her draws for a weapon, settling on a ceramic rolling pin as her weapon of choice. as she crept towards the door y/n could hear some quiet bickering being dulled by the thick door and then a sudden pounding at it. brando meowed in surprise and bolted, likely for his preferred hiding place under y/n’s bed.

“y/n open the fucking door i know you’re in there!”

max verstappen. y/n sighed, lowering the rolling pin and opening the door. much to her surprise the dutchman wasn’t alone, peering over his shoulders was kimi antonelli himself.

“were you going to make me into a pie? move out of the way,” max said looking at the rolling pin and pushing past y/n into the apartment.

“yes, i guess you can come in max…”

max shucked off his shoes and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cracking open a red bull. kimi followed apprehensively, taking his shoes off slowly and placing them neatly by the door.

“see! it’s almost like you knew i was coming,” max said with a smug smile, “now where’s my little boy?”

almost on cue, brando strolled back into the kitchen and immediately started rubbing against max’s legs. the dutchman knelt down and scooped brando up in his arms, red bull long forgotten as he doted on the cat.

“now you’ve tormented my son, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

y/n asked, arms crossed and with an unimpressed look on her face. looking over to kimi, the italian quickly ducked his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. max continued cuddling brando, ignoring y/n’s questioning stare.

“i’m giving you two ten seconds to give me a good reason as to why you’ve come to disturb my peace today before i throw you out,” y/n announced. max cleared his throat and straightened his back, much to the chagrin of brando.

“right, okay,” max started, “you gotta take the job y/n. look at his little face,” max leant over and pinched kimi’s cheek, “look at him he’s so young and innocent. think of all the big ugly bullies like carlos and lando, you can’t leave him alone with them!”

“you came to guilt me into taking the job?”

“no!” kimi squeaked, “that was max’s idea. i wanted to come and tell you my reasons myself. i wrote you a letter but i don’t know if it ever made it to you.”

kimi’s eyes locked on the letter on the coffee table and looked back at y/n, eyes getting watery.

“oh. you did get it,” kimi started biting at his nails, “i’m sorry for coming and invading your privacy miss y/ln, we’ll leave you alone now.”

the italian turned to max, pleading with his eyes to go. max held up his hand, jostling brando again.

“we’re not going anywhere kimi, this has gone on far too long. y/n i get that you don’t really want to come back and for very valid reasons, but deep down i know you do. racing is everything to you and i know you changed your mind when you read kimi’s letter.”

kimi’s head shot up, looking at y/n with an unbridled and heartbreaking amount of hope. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, as if to stop himself from blurting out whatever he was thinking.

“that bullshit article about zak is no reason not to come back. he’s doing it on purpose to keep you from coming back. he’s a fraud, we all know he is. he’s terrified of you, that’s why he takes cheap shots at you. you don’t need to go anywhere near him in the paddock but don’t let him keep you away from what you love.”

y/n sighed, her head in her hands but max just grinned, sending a wink kimi’s way.

“you know i’m right y/n.”

“why can’t you be a mentor? you can look out for kimi?” y/n countered, her words sharp like an animal backed into a corner.

“and have to spend more time with george russell? i’m sorry kimi but there’s only one person worth suffering through that for”

kimi didn’t really seem too bothered by the dig at his new teammate, his eyes not leaving y/n’s, holding onto every word.

“so you’re saying that i should have to suffer through that instead?”

y/n smirked at kimi and took her cat from max’s arms. she sat back down on her couch and motioned for kimi to come and sit beside her. the italian sat cross legged, body angled towards y/n. to his surprise the first thing the brit did was place brando on his lap. kimi let out a soft yelp before brando started nudging his head against kimi’s chin. ”he likes you, that’s a good sign. my brando is an amazing judge of character so i trust he would pick out a good work partner for me”

kimi stopped petting brando so abruptly at y/n’s words that the black cat pawed at his chest to regain the italian’s attention.

“so you think we could work well together?” kimi asked in a small voice, making sure to continue stroking brando’s head this time.

“the annoying one over there won’t leave me alone if i don’t say yes,” y/n said, nodding towards max. the dutchman let out a ‘i heard that’ from the kitchen but left the other two to their discussion. “but he’s also right. i love racing and it hurts me very deeply that i can’t do it anymore. but i also see a lot of myself in you and your letter was so sincere it’s honestly changed my whole world view. i’ve been throwing myself a pity party for three years, enough is enough - and i can’t think of a better racer to be a mentor to.”

“really?”

the smile on kimi’s face was all-consuming, his eyes crinkling and a little giggle escaping as well.

“yes. although i am also impressed you came all the way from monaco to ask me.”

max plucked brando from kimi’s lap and crashed into the armchair, “oh he came all the way from italy actually”

y/n’s head whipped back to kimi who shrugged, whispering a small ‘worth it’ under his breath. max continued,

“he messaged me on instagram - my official account so vic had to text me about ‘this kid who wants to see if you’ll go to london with him’. then he drove all the way from milan to monaco and then we took air max here. he’s a very dedicated one you got there”

“you drove from milan to monaco? do you even have a road licence?”

kimi went to interject but y/n kept going, “it’s so early, when did you drive? you didn’t drive overnight did you?” the silence was answer enough.

“that is so not good for you kimi! right,” y/n stood up, dragging kimi with her, “i don’t have the spare room set up yet so you’ll have to deal with my bed. i have some of max’s clothes here that you can borrow but i order you to go take a nap and in a couple of hours i’ll take you both to lunch.”

kimi followed y/n like a little duckling to her room, hearing max in the background grumble about how he never gets offered a bed for a nap. y/n grabbed some clothes from her bottom draw and handed them to kimi.

“sorry they’re red bull branded, that loser doesn’t wear anything else, we just won’t tell toto will we?”

kimi let out another giggle, heading towards the en suite room to change. at the door he turned to y/n who was plumping the pillows and making the bed.

“thank you for taking a chance on me. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”

“don’t worry kimi. i think we’ll be great together. get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll get some food.”

y/n moved towards the door and gave kimi a soft smile as she closed it. the italian felt an even bigger smile break out on his face and allowed himself to let out a girlish squeal - he just had to text ollie about this.

back in the living room both max and brando had moved to the bigger couch and stared at y/n with knowing eyes.

“what?”

“nothing. just by my calculations it took you a whole two minutes to crumble and start the mother duck act.”

“so you don’t want me to come back?”

y/n poked, max sighed.

“you know that’s not what i mean. but it’s cute, it suits you.”

“shut up,” y/n said, fighting off a blush, “do you want to watch some tv while the little one sleeps?”

max yanked the remote from y/n’s hand and patted the seat. it was just like old times, nearly.

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maxverstappen1

liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar and 803,899 others

maxverstappen1: when in rome

view all comments

user1: you’re not fooling me buster

user2: the way this is defo vic being told to create a diversion

user3: sorry to break it to the gal she’s not doing her best

victoriaverstappen: keep me out of this one

landonorris: rome you say

maxverstappen1: that’s what the caption says does it not

maxverstappen1: can you not send me twitter links you know i do not have the abomination that is that app on my phone

user4: so you haven’t seen all the f1 yuri ??? you’re missing out

maxverstappen1: what is yuri?

maxverstappen1: i’ll google it one sec

landonorris: can we get back to my original point please?

maxverstappen1: manners lando!

landonorris: they butted into our conversation ???

landonorris: you’re not in rome so stop lying

maxverstappen1: you’re right 😟

maxverstappen1: i’m in monaco!

landonorris: YOU’RE IN LONDON WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE IN LONDON

maxverstappen1: nuh uh

maxverstappen1: i literally saw you on my morning run today lando

landonorris; don’t try and gaslight me bitch

landonorris: i saw the twitter account of your private jet it says you’re in the u.k. ?

maxverstappen1: that’s an invasion of privacy lando, i can’t believe you

landonorris: THEN STOP LYING

maxverstappen1: wow, big accusation buddy, you must be learning from george

user5: max will never not bring that up

user6: the way y/n and george used to be so close i wish i could’ve seen her reaction to that whole thing

user7: considering he never said anything in support of her after everything that happened… well i don’t think he would’ve gotten much support from her

user8: george russell and y/n y/ln takes a drag i haven’t heard those names together in a long time

user9: real ones know they were the OG brit ship

user10: yall just can’t let a woman exist can you

user11: lando up in the business sorry mclaren you can’t fool me

user12: i think if y/n does come back to f1 she should be allowed to shoot one man a day there

user13: i agree

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the trio are huddled around a cramped table way in the back of the quaint restaurant. both drivers are meant to be following their meal plans but have both gone for the hearty bowl of pasta recommended by y/n.

“i can’t believe my best friend is going to be back in the paddock, i love you my little italian man,” max sighs happily, ruffling kimi’s hair. “but also i don’t care if you’re going to be in the mercedes garage, i need a united front against george this season i am not letting the shit he pulled last season fly.”

kimi suddenly stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, looking at y/n alarmed.

“kimi, stop worrying, i’ve said yes, i’m not going to back out now,” y/n said, refilling the italian’s glass of water, “but i can’t guarantee i’ll be anything but just civil with george.”

“wait!” kimi yells, mouth full of pasta, “ollie and i have always wanted to know what happened between you two, if we’re allowed to know…”

y/n and max shared a look.

“i didn’t know me and george were such a hot topic with the rookies. i don’t know whether to be annoyed or not?”

“well it’s just me and ollie,” kimi slams his cutlery down and waves his hands, “one time i was wearing some of your merch after an f2 race and i was sat with toto when george came in and he took one look at my shirt and just glared at me. it was very weird but we’d never heard of anything about you two.”

“i mean we haven’t spoken in three years so i’d be impressed if there was still some gossip to go around,” y/n turned to max, “but if it’s anything like the last two races, it won’t take long to kick off again.”

max laughed to himself when y/n grabbed his hand.

“what did you say to him allegedly? that you’d put him on his head in the wall… well it sounds familiar…”

both max and kimi gasp, the younger leaning in, on the edge of his seat.

“oh boys, let me take you back to 2019…”

may 2019.

jimmyz smelt overwhelmingly of sweat. fancy sweat, but sweat nonetheless. y/n was stuck in the sea of bodies, clinging to the arm of mick schumacher and her watery vodka cranberry like her life depended on it. many hours earlier she stood proudly on the top step after winning the formula two feature race by an impressive ten seconds, her dancing partner standing second on the podium.

“i’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” mick tried to shout over the booming music. y/n waved her half-empty glass in his face and gave him a thumbs up. the german nodded and turned, starting his fight to get to the bar.

now alone, y/n let the atmosphere of the club and her earlier victory wash over her. yes, she was doing the typical white girl club dance but she’d earned that right on the track. y/n was lost in the music when mick finally returned, balancing his drink, two tequila shots, two limes and a packet of salt.

“i told you i didn’t need a drink, silly,” y/n yelled in his ear.

“the barman told me podium sitters had to have a tequila shot, jimmyz law?”

y/n took the shot glass from him and one of the limes. mick licked two lines on his hand and poured out the salt. she raised her eyebrow at him.

“what? we’ve done worse?”

she leaned forward and licked the salt from the german’s hand, threw back the shot and sucked on the lime. tequila shots still hadn’t gotten easier. mick beckoned her forward and whispered in her ear, “miss monaco winner, i fear we have an audience.”

y/n pulled back and looked around jimmyz. lewis hamilton was nearby, taking off his comically wet shirt for a captive audience after daniel had insisted on emptying another bottle of champagne on the brit. sebastian vettel had dragged an unwilling charles to jimmyz, who despite the thunder in his eyes, tried to dance along with his teammate. the trio of rookie brits were all off to the side, both lando and alex were trying their luck with the many girls alongside them in the vip booth but george stood alone. he was glaring, y/n thought it was at her but on a closer look, george was attempting to murder mick with his eyes.

“well doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine,” comments mick, spinning her around again. “i should probably go check on him, that williams was as shit as ever today, he doesn’t take losing very well.”

y/n thinks she hears mick mutter a little ‘he should get used to it’ but elects to ignore it. she lets him spin her once more before making her way over to the booth.

“penny for your thoughts mr russell,” y/n asked, dragging him to sit down in the booth with her. george sits down but puts some healthy room between them and looks around, paranoid.

“leaving room for jesus, georgie? don’t worry, i won’t tell if you don’t?”

y/n laughs at her own joke but george looks less than impressed. y/n face falls as she takes a long sip.

“hey, i know today was tough but you don’t have to take it out on me i’m just trying to talk to you.”

george grumbles something under his breath. y/n looks at him, asking him to repeat himself. george looks out onto the dancefloor, not replying.

“you clearly have a problem, can you spit it out or i can just go back to mick.”

“i’m sure you’d love that”

“excuse me?”

george scoffs and goes to stand up. y/n gets up just as fast, a little unstable on the heels she thought she could handle for just one night out.

“i said i’m sure you’d love to go back out there and rub all over mr nepotism out there,” george shouted spitefully.

“i’m allowed to dance with my friends george. i don’t see what the problem is here.”

george wipes his face in frustration, “that’s the issue - you don’t think. what if people were allowed to film in here. a video of you like that, licking his hand like that - imagine what they would say?”

“i don’t have to imagine when you seem more than happy to say it yourself george.”

“i’m trying to be a good friend, clearly someone has to think of these things if you won’t”

y/n laughs bitterly, “my knight in shining armour, thank you for taking time out of your day to metaphorically slutshame me so i don’t have to.”

george groans and slams his drink down onto the table.

“mick is not just a friend, he is a competitor. there’s a difference. people will say things - that you’re sleeping with him to get an advantage, that you’re using him and his name to get a seat in formula one,” george said, exasperated.

“or is that just what you think?” y/n said, looking up at george with tears in her eyes.

“no! of course not, but people will say that y/n you have to be careful.”

y/n’s tears turned to hot, angry tears, the tequila shot pushing her to say the things she would usually push down.

“let them. if what you say is true, they’ll say it even if it’s not true. who cares? what do you expect me to do when i make it to formula one? take a vow of celibacy and not leave my hotel room every weekend?”

“i’m not saying i agree with it but this is how the sport is right now unfortunately. your image will matter so much more,” george said, trying to grab her hand but y/n yanked it away from him.

“george, people will call me a slut no matter what i do - i’m not going to let it stop me from celebrating when i want to, when i deserve to,” y/n hissed, she’d had quite enough of this conversation, this is not what a monaco winner does to celebrate.

“they won’t respect you if they see you like this,” george pointed to her dress, a short black number that showed off her legs but had a high neck, “they definitely won’t respect you if they see you dancing like that with mick or licking his hand.”

y/n’s head was hot, she needed george out of her sight or this could get ugly. “it sounds like i’ve already lost your respect, or did i even have it to begin with?” george protests, but y/n kept going.

“why do you really want to keep me at home? do you want to have me all to yourself, is that why mick is bothering you so much? or can you not stand the fact that i might beat you next year? a girl you deem a slut might be faster than you? might get a better seat than you faster? i might be a girl and you might think in some fucked up way that you have dibs on me because you’ve known me so long but let it be known, you try and pull anything with me on track and i’ll put you on your fucking head in the wall.”

y/n turned on her heel and stormed out of jimmyz.

present.

“oh shit.”

max whispered while kimi sat with his mouth open, struggling for words.

“we were young there,” y/n goes to explain, “but he ruined that monaco win for me. i think in a weird way he was trying to help but it came out wrong.”

the waitress had come to start clearing away the table and kimi was still gaping like a fish.

“that was so much worse than i was expecting. am i still allowed to tell ollie, i promise he won’t tell.”

y/n chuckled, “you can tell who you want, kimi, i don’t really care. it’s a fun tidbit, maybe if he pulls a fast one again with either of you it’ll be a cute ted’s notebook segment.”

“now that would make the sky prices worth it.”

GQ Man of the Year Red Carpet Live Updates

excerpt of red carpet interview between Y/N Y/LN and interviewer

interviewer: hi y/n! wow you look beautiful tonight!

y/n: thank you so much, you look amazing too!

interviewer: oh! you’ve got me blushing…

y/n: that’s my job!

interviewer: it’s amazing to see you, this is your first public appearance in over three years, we’ve missed you!

y/n: i know, i was nervous for tonight, i thought maybe i’d be on the red carpet and everyone would’ve forgotten who i am…

interviewer: we could never forget you

y/n: that’s too sweet

interviewer: especially when you’re turning looks like these

y/n: i know, three years of religiously wearing sweat pants, i knew i had to dress to impress

interviewer: don’t leave us for the sweat pants for that long i beg

y/n: i think you’ll see me out and about more often don’t worry

interviewer: is that a hint

y/n: it can be… as much as i would love to give you the exclusive darling, i have a contract i have to abide by

interviewer: very intriguing… well thank you for stopping and talking with us tonight

y/n: no worries! i’ll see you around

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the apartment was quiet when y/n returned from the GQ Man of the Year event, max and kimi had only been there for a couple hours the day before, but already the apartment seemed scarily empty. brando slinked up to y/n brushing against the expensive fabric, meowing for food as if y/n hadn’t gotten the notification for his automatic feeder.

“oh stop being so loud, baby,” y/n slumped down on the couch, kicking off her heels, “i might order some food and give you some scraps if you’re nice to me.”

the back of the dress was too complicated to tackle on an empty stomach so y/n resigned to eating cheap takeout in her designer dress. the chicken shop was embarrassingly frequent in her recent orders but she purchased her usual order anyway, not like she had a diet like the others anymore.

after just five minutes of scrolling through twitter, seeing her fans having a meltdown did bring a smile to her face, the bell went. her usual chicken shop was good, but not that good. however, in a good mood, y/n swung the door open with a smile.

“oh. you’re not my chicken shop order.’

“no. i’m not. but you are a mercedes mentor now?” lewis hamilton said with a tenacious smile.

“i’m kimi’s mentor,” y/n reminded him quickly, opening the door enough for him to enter.

“quite a get up you’re in,” lewis said, “quite a way to annouce your return.”

y/n poured a glass of water for him, “technically sky announced my return. you sad you missed me at mercedes?”

lewis smirked and moved around the kitchen counter. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “what could you teach me?”. the air was thick with tension and the room was suddenly a lot hotter, y/n didn’t know where to look or how to reply. as she stood there, just inches away from lewis with her mouth open, ready to reply, the bell went again.

“that’ll be the front desk with my food,” y/n choked out, moving back towards the door and taking in a deep breath. she took the food from the concierge and slips him some money as a thank you.

y/n placed the order on the counter and flicked her eyes back over to lewis. “i’d say we could share, but this is definitely not vegan. was there a reason you came? i didn’t even think you had my address?”

the smirk again. “i can’t just want to come and see you? in his excitement max was very loose-lipped, but i can’t say i’m too angry about it. i would’ve preferred if you had trusted me with it from the start…”

“no one had my address,” y/n replied.

“max did.”

“max is different”

“how so?”

“he just is, okay? i didn’t think anyone would want anything to do with me after the crash. i just wanted to wallow in peace”

“please don’t assume how i feel about you again,” lewis finished his water and moved towards the door, “i’ll leave you to your food, don’t be a stranger in the paddock.”

lewis picked up her hand and gave it a quick kiss and left as fast as he came.

what the fuck. the door shut and y/n was floored. what just happened?

whatever it was, it would have to wait until after she had eaten to be processed. while plating her food, y/n picked up her phone and opened her text thread with max.

i’m serious dude, stop giving people my address.

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fin.

note: oh wow so this series blew up - i'm serious i got such an influx in followers i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! some new players have entered but you'll just have to keep guessing! one warning, i do go back to work thursday so updates will slow but one of my new years resolutions was to write more anyway!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #kimi antonelli #lewis hamilton #george russell #astonmartinii

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gangplanksorenji · 3 months ago

Text

Sterling

Pairing: aespa’s Karina & aespa’s Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 19,461

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Possibly the longest, flithiest and the most boner-fueled hazed smut I have ever written (probably the most chaotic too, not gonna lie). Have fun reading this fic yereobun and I hope you enjoy this! <33

This one is dedicated to @sinswithpleasure who basically fueled me to write this kind of a WinRina fic...

---------------------

Peers, seniors and professors—probably the three pivotal pillars where a university is commonly known for.

You’re hanging onto that belief for a long time now that everything revolves around them, and it just doesn’t help with such hierarchy you possess within your own hands. It’s just with the fact that you can’t come up to an unbiased conclusion, but who cares?

They may say it’s a great opportunity to be in your position, walking around the university with a silver spoon up in your arse? Well, you’ll say that’s a myth from the oblivious freshmans new to the block or the people thinking it’s all sunshines and rainbows but in reality, you’re in this constant state of stress and improvement that seems to get long so well yet contradicting.

You cursed yourself for the better, but it’s fine because there’s someone to lean on in times that truly tests you as a person, and maybe even yourself as your own enemy.

“Hey… you alright?” A faint voice murmurs onto your shoulders, you huffing a breath once you hear her voice, expressing your relief and that hint of anxiety.

“I don’t know honestly…” You’re stressed and in this battle with yourself, grasping the situation and fully digesting it was just a poison you’d love to get rid of. “I’m just a little rivaled if I deserve this spot or not.”

The girl’s face paints concern and doubt, patting your shoulder as soon as she hears those words alongside the reassuring words like: “Don’t say that, babe—you deserved this! Don’t be too heavy on yourself…”

She’s a girl you’d go to war for, would fight until the end of time because of how much you love her, even though it’s sometimes over the scope of things and that’s Yu Jimin, mononymously known as Karina. She’s a girl which everyone leaves in awe with her beauty, charisma and her clever mind (even though she can be silly sometimes), and a personality that’s caring and funny, truly, you’re hitting the jackpot having a girl like her.

These are true and that’s why you love her unconditionally—it’s just not that she’s possibly the most beautiful girl to ever exist in the world (honestly, you’d vouch that this is factual because her visuals are something surreal) but it’s mostly the fact on how she’s so down-to-earth and that alone makes you even fall for her more.

Her words of comfort alone can make your mind tranquil, and you adore it, even in the simplest terms.

“I know this sounds dumb, babe, but why are you feeling like this? Like right now, randomly?” It actually piques Karina, on why you’re suddenly like this. She knows that you’re in a different mood, far from your usual self with this given moment right from the start and her curiosity won’t do any better for her.

You scoff, looking at the distance. “No, I just—like, feel nervous or uneasy, I guess?”

“On what, exactly?” Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, interested in what may come out of your mouth. Even with the interest, a bright idea flashes onto her mind, supposedly knowing the roots of your nervousness.

“Let me guess, is it about Winter?” She hit the bullseye, your pupils dilating says so and it’s too late to lie right now.

“Yeah…” You scoff, Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, head shaking a little as she can’t believe you’re almost in shambles just because of a single girl.

“Oh god, I thought it was something to really worry about.” Karina laughed a little, finding the situation hilarious as you’re perplexed with her unserious demeanor.

“You’re not worried about Winter?”

“Really, her?” Karina clicks her tongue, still registering how relieved she is when she hears the name and continues to reassure you, yet this time in a playfully silly manner. “I’ve been friends with her for a while and let me tell you, you shouldn’t be bothered about her…”

Those little words help you a little, more uplifted than before as she adds, “By the way, why do you feel nervous though? And why did you mention her? Something working on with her?”

She straightforward yet still quizzical, her questions remained her interest floating in the air and it’s for you to answer it. “Uhm, like—here: we’re going to work on a project that’s been approved by the campus’ director and I feel like Winter is something I won’t be comfortable working with…”

There lies the truth: you don’t despise Winter, not even in the slightest, yet there’s a faux inkling in your brain that’s keeping you away from making yourself comfortable with her, and it’s something dumb.

“How so?”

“I don’t know, Rina…” You gave her this furrowed look, slightly shy and ultimately indecisive. “She looks intimidating and hard to approach. I may just feel the slightest bit of enthusiasm working with her.”

Karina feels something is off, analyzing your expression as it’s enough to make a conclusion: “Winter being intimidating? Come on now…”

“What?”

Karina rolls her eyes, laughing with your words and you paint a puzzled face alongside her chuckles. “Babe, don’t worry about Winter. If it’s anything, she’s cordial and approachable, just a little shy, alright?”

Right.

“Now exactly tell me the real reason why you’re feeling uncomfortable working with her.” She knows you, reads you like a book she always bothers to read.

The truth unfolds, saying everything to Karina and this is what it really meant: you deemed to your life that you’ll never interact with Winter ever again just because of a predicament. Accidentally spilling copious amounts of milk tea on her skirt months ago is enough to tell the tale—it never really got better than that, and as soon as she glared at you and angrily left the cafeteria with her backpack, you know you introduced yourself in an atrocious way. It was embarrassing to say the least, interrupting her study time because of your clumsiness was the worst thing to ever happen, even though there’s like four people who saw the mess.

You apologized on the spot and never got a reply back. You even tried to contact her but to no avail, she doesn’t really respond. Ever since, you’ve tainted a picture that she’s grumpy and there’s no way on this planet she’ll forgive you (it’s probably childish but what can you do?).

“Wait, that sounded familiar…”

“Huh, how?”

You’re constantly in this puzzled state, expecting words that can surprise you at any moment. “No, coz like—Winter said this too the other day to me and let me tell you, it’s not really a bad thing but she can’t help but feel annoyed too.”

She’s down to earth, and it hurts. If you only knew this, then it would not besmirch her image to your brain. “Also, babe, she also wanted to apologize to you because of her attitude but she didn’t seem to contact you—what a destiny, huh?”

Your face paints visible shock and delight, a little baffled that she’s actually trying to contact you. You’d love to believe that Karina’s lying, but it’s one of the things she’ll do last, barely doing it with you.

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, I can even call her right now—”

“Wait, wait, wait! Not yet!” You pout, eyebrows furrowing as you felt conflicted with the information she had given you. You don’t know what to genuinely feel—delight, relief, nervousness or embarrassment—but one thing’s for sure: you’d know Winter would be such an angel in disguise, clearly a good person all throughout.

Guess Karina’s words really shifted your view on Winter? Yes, that’s mostly her power against you.

“Why not? I am even here to sort the mess you made.”

“It’s not that, okay?” You sigh, facing her again as her cockiness is probably admirable knowing she can genuinely help you (she knows it). “I’ll just sort these things out with just Winter and I.”

You genuinely appreciate her efforts, helping you even though she sounds like it’s nothing much of a deal for her—that’s another element that you love about her, albeit her usual unserious self that’s sometimes intolerable (it’s rarely experienced, though). Even though she’s her close friend and having a supposedly close relationship, you wouldn’t need her to tolerate the fear of being beside Winter because of your own battles within yourself.

This time, you’ll establish a greater relationship with her and you’ll do that for the sake of making such an ambitious project possible, leaving no doubts nor regrets.

---

Yes, it’s ambitious and clearly, a lot is on the line, especially your reputation as the highest member in the council and the stakes are even higher considering you're working with a person that’s an integral part of the council, another linchpin, as they say. You’d wonder why the director chose the both of you to possibly lead this proposal, but you’ll soon hope to leave those questionable thoughts in the gutter.

Luckily for you, you'll meet Winter again for like the third time (this time, it’s influenced by Karina and you thank her for that even though you said you won’t need her, yet you lied.), and hoping to talk through something to make yourselves truly comfortable with each other.

You tap your foot, fidget your fingers as you wait for her, looking at the distance in hopes for her appearance sooner.

“Uhm, hi? Hi…” You looked onto your shoulder, bowed at each other, a little startled with the blonde fingure’s appearance and she seemed to be slightly bubblier than your last two meetings with her, and it’s probably the sole reason for Karina's effect with her words in accordance with you.

She’s no doubt, really shy yet actually approachable—guess she is breathing a different set of fresh air and you won’t even complain. “You, uhm… probably know why you’re here.”

You’re a little uneasy, teeth shivering a little as she nods, then appears that cute little pout that you find adorable in a way. “To talk about something?”

“Right.”

“Right.” Winter fixes her seat, you clear your throat and do the same thing as her, and now, you regain confidence and lock eyes to her.

“I—uhm, yeah… I really want t—”

“No!” It was clear, falling onto your ears and you’re awkward within this given moment until she continued. “I should be the one apologizing… so I’m sorry for what's been with me for the past days.” Winter falls onto this shy demeanor of hers, flashing a coy smile while still maintaining eye contact with yours and deeply, you’re convinced.

Not really convinced in the way of knowing it’s all her fault (the incident was yours to blame) but in a way of convincing yourself that she’s this captivating to look at. You shouldn’t be distracted, your attention invested in taking this seriously but you just can’t just brush off the fact that she’s beautiful.

“No, no, this is bad—Karina’s gonna kill me—just talk with her and nothing else.” And so you did, fighting the urge of just being in awe with such a woman.

“Uhm—yeah, it’s fine, Winter… I’m sorry too if I just ruined your day back then—”

“No!”

“No?” You’re confused, questioning why she would say a confident “no”. She looks away, off the distance as she felt that her confidence fazed you, keeping her mellow voice audible again after such an enthusiastic approach.

“I mean you did but like—I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that…”

You inch yourself a little closer, leaning an elbow onto the table and painting a smile, it’s growing and becoming more sincere and it reassures her, little by little. “Thanks, I’m sorry if I—like, introduced myself in such a bad way.”

Winter laughs and it’s contagious, doing it too at your own end as she tucks her blonde locks behind her ear, her eyes sparkling in interest and totally surging with keenness. “Hah… You know, actually, uhm—hoo… I found that a little hilarious.”

You clear your thoughts, raise your eyebrows and assess if you really heard her right—in fact, you really did and you just can’t fathom how she found such an embarrassing event would spark such little entertainment. “What do you mean, Winter?”

Winter sighs, looking down and possibly regretting what she said and it doesn’t help with your tone a little raised up (you’re not angry but at her end, she doesn’t like this and thinks the other way). “No, I-I don’t mean it in a bad way! Like, maybe a little bit but honestly, I felt a little bad too…”

She coats her embarrassment with words you can’t be sure if she’s sincere about or not, but one thing’s for sure, that she’s actually a great person to be with. You can feel how she’s like more vocal—Karina said that Winter isn’t much of a person that talks that much, and she also does it whenever she feels comfortable—and you like it and knowing she’s still hinting that miniscule shyness, you reassure her that you’re not mad about anything, but rather even finding your predicament a little hilarious too.

Guess the both of you are getting too comfortable with each other too fast than what you’ve expected.

“Not much of a thing?”

“Yes, Winter.” You grin, letting her know that what happened from the past prior to this moment wouldn’t be a hindrance in order to develop a friendly relationship with Winter, especially in these times where you’re going to experience working with her. You extend your arm a little onto the table as she eyes it, taking it as a move signifying your comfort. “Looking now, I think we’ll work well together.”

She’s probably fluttered hearing your words, hinting a faint blush onto her cheeks and looking down with the sudden surge of joy hitting her and of course, still sheepish. “I’m flattered you think that way.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Winter paints that set of her dulcet smiles that you would grow accustomed to love because of how vibrant they are—you swear to god, her smiles alone can make your day better, alongside Karina’s too, of course. “I don’t know—everything feels much better right now that we’re just talking face to face.”

“And not with the pressure of anyone?” You assume that she felt much more comfortable with you knowing there’s no one around that will possibly judge or interrupt the both of you, compared to the last two meetings with the influence of the director and the people involved with this project. Also, as Karina said, Winter isn’t much of a first-initiative kind of girl and is often shy, so you wouldn’t blame her for being like the opposite of herself right now and you find this confidence of her amusing and great.

“I do think so…” Winter nods, knowing that having all eyes onto both of you and the others really defeats the purpose of being assured but knowing how this personality of hers can be her bane is enough to make yourself vocal about that judgment of yours. “But I do think that you should get used to this—like this kind of environment.”

Winter sighs, then averted her eyes back to yours. “Karina-unnie has been saying that too and yeah, I should consider that.”

“You know, Winter, it still baffles me that you’re friends with Karina.”

Winter’s mouth is ajar, a little shocked with your words. “Oh, how so?”

“I don’t really know but like, she barely talks about you whenever we’re together and is it the same at your end? If you don’t mind though.”

You could sense that she probably doesn't mind it and that’s a sigh of relief. Her amicable tone sets off the mood right, and that’s what matters. “I mean it’s pretty bare too, but I knew you before… like when you’re still in the lowest positions in the council.”

You’re piqued and nodded with Winter’s enlightenment. Knowing this conversation will stir away to the supposed reason why the both of you are here, you let her know that and you’re just grateful that the two of you are getting comfortable with each other, and realized that the saying of “don’t judge the book by its cover” is always evident and factual.

“Uhm, by the way, about the uhm… the project we’re working on, I thought about an idea on how we can start it.”

Winter’s eyes sparkle in utter investment of her attention towards you, tilting her head and smiling as she mutters, “I actually have something in mind too but, lead the way, please.”

Maybe it all falls down to this moment, and you can’t wait what this day has in store for you. You never anticipated something so positively summarized for a conclusion, but of course, you’ll take these small victories and let yourself be invested with this ambitious endeavor.

---

You never knew how Winter and you could be so comfortable with each other, establishing a robust relationship after the both of you part ways and it ends up on a greater note, finally getting her number and having a greater contact than ever before. Of course, boundaries need to be tolerated and it's further shown by her, knowing how respectful she is because of her awareness between you and Karina.

And it’s not like Winter’s that type of a homewrecker, but you could never be so sure since you barely knew her. Albeit all of that, you protest to the thought that Winter’s going onto that route, her modest and friendly personality says so and you could feel how genuine it is.

Well, it is a great day but nothing’s going to fulfill such greatness without laying your eyes on indisputably, the most beautiful person that ever walked on this earth, inches away from her and you’re captivated with her presence whenever she’s around.

Her voice resonates around your ear, and instantly, you curled up a smile. “Long day?”

You sip on your drink, then let out a sigh with her words. “Possibly, yeah…”

Karina sees this as something that can be considered alarming, your sighs deep enough to make her think of an assumption that you’re probably lying. “You alright? You seem like, pft… unsatisfied.”

“Okay, honestly, I’m just tired and I’ll be like this most of the time…” Karina understands this, with your current responsibility with such a hierarchical position deems such exhausting endeavors possible. You’re grateful for having a thoughtful girlfriend like her who perceives things thoroughly, and you’ll be thankful with that. “Anyways, this flavor rocks by the way—what flavor is this?”

“Dark mocha frappe—just how you like it, babe…” You smile knowing these small victories are wholesome, even knowing how you like your frappes is a great thing.

“I owe you something then, no?” Karina’s mouth is agape, shocked and playfully becomes mad, feeling her efforts aren’t taken seriously by you. You then laughed with her frisky retorts, her face painted with little annoyance and shocked is such a sight to see, further teasing her as she replies. “No! Yah, why do you think like I’m owing you something most of the time?”

You sip, humming in satisfaction with the strong, sweet taste as you laughed right after. “Sometimes, I just feel like it but anyways, thanks, Rina.”

Karina’s demeanor shifted into those glowing eyes of hers, in awe with your amicable words that made her a little shy. “Anyways, how’d it go, babe?”

You paused for seconds, taking another sip as you flash a smile, full of vanity on how the events unfolded and she knows exactly what you’ll say. “Pretty great, honestly—never knew Winter would be such a great girl to talk with.”

Karina continuously stirred her light-colored frappuccino, sipping on it and then faced you, mouthing the words, “Told ya, she’s a great girl.”

She places the cup onto the marbled table, approaching you and palms your shoulder with a caressing touch and she continues. “Glad my girl’s doing well, honestly—this is such a great opportunity for her, and for you.”

Then Karina’s eyes dart onto yours, a breath brushing against your lips as she smirks, and you know that her façade is possibly ambiguous right now. “Why get too dangerously close, Rina?”

Karina chuckles, eyes off the distance then back to yours, her tone a little interrogative. “Is it just bad for me to feel happy for the both of you, hm, babe?”

“Right, Rina…” You’re a bit sarcastic, as she pulls away a little bit, and retorts playfully against you.

“Yah! Anyways, I just missed being this close to you, y’know?” You can sense how much she missed these intimate and wholesome moments with you, probably neglecting these because of your own endeavors which seem to not meet its demise. You’re subtly complaining, but it’s now a part of you, so you will bear with it and live with your responsibilities as a hierarchical linchpin.

You won’t miss out on chances like this, opportunities lingering within your hands’ reach is a must. “I missed this too, Rina.”

Tilt her chin and then you indulge onto that apotheotic act—lips clashed onto yours; tongues tangled as its carnal instinct. Every second that counts delves deeper into killing that deprivation that roamed all over your bodies, and instantly, found that longing gem that’s been buried for quite some time—satisfaction.

She brought the light of your dying star, and you’re welcoming her abilities to bend the laws of physics—normally, this sounds impossible and immoral, yet ambiguously speaking, she can probably ignite that feeling again.

“Kiss me more—kiss me more, baby…” Pecks and its resonating sounds fill the air, the love emanating all throughout sets up the mood vibrantly and you got to thank Karina for that.

You just reciprocated, can’t be bothered to translate your feelings through words and she succumbs to the feeling. Your lips pepper hers just right, insatiable with the way you run your expertise and cupping her cheeks is a great leverage. Her hands just roams its way onto your waist, tracing your abdomen then inadvertently (there’s a high chance it’s not), she hikes up the hem of your shirt until you stop her.

“Calm down for a second, Rina.”

“But I can’t, baby…” She wants it, but there’s more ways to do it before achieving such a climax, and you’re voicing it out with no hesitation.

“Let us finish these foods and drinks first, no?”

Karina pouts, an audible hml can be heard as she knows you have a valid point. “Fine then, but after this, we gotta dive for more.”

You chuckle, knowing where this will descend into. “Whatever you want, my love.”

Karina’s eyes just widened with your given name towards her, and you knew you picked her locks with it.

“Clever minds could bear such blessings in the smallest things.”

---

There’s nothing denying this, not even God himself—you’re way too in love with Karina. It’s such a blessing getting yourself in a position where you can be intimate with your movements, peppering her with kisses up to her abdomen or even going over the roof. Yet now is just full of warmth, her embrace against yours is something you’ll cherish, even engaging into deeper, warmer cuddles as her head rests onto your shoulder.

“It’s going to be a big event tomorrow, ain’t it, babe?”

“Not really, big, but like—” You tuck her hair behind her ear, endeared with her beauty as you can't help but just be in awe but you continue. “—mostly a crucial part for us, probably.”

The both of you are under the covers, feeling each other’s heat and the lingering feeling of the attachment she’s been longing for, caressing her hands onto your bare skin and moaning a little with her enchanting and sensitive touch. You let Karina go berserk, suckling onto your collarbones and your neck, kissing it with a renowned fervor and her actions just makes you feel something that you’re possibly dying to feel in a long while. “You know babe—mwah, hm, thinking of that, we should probably hangout or some sort…”

You paint that puzzled face, averting her attention towards you with a touch on her shoulder and is eager to clarify what she’s trying to say. “What do you mean? We’re hanging out right now, no?”

Karina chortles, hands now roaming onto your arms as she replies, “Not that babe… I’m thinking about us with Winter.”

That name just becomes a ring onto your brain, and you ultimately poised yourself in a different approach whenever she calls that name out. “Why involve Winter with this? What are you try—”

Karina shushes you with a finger, your eyes widening with her actions as her reassuring tone calms your mind. “Come on, just trust me, babe—think of this as a way for the both of you to be more comfortable with each other, okay?”

The emphasis is clearly something underlying suspicion, but nonetheless, you know Karina wants the best for both worlds, and it’s up for you to seal the deal. She still maintains eye contact with you, chin resting against the upper part of your sternum as her eyes glisten with anticipation, an anticipation with your words needing to complete the puzzle.

“So, what do you say?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you gaze back to her. “Promise me this isn’t something I will be worried about, alright?”

Another chuckle, and Karina’s confidence fades your uneasiness. “Why would I make you feel like that? Of course not.”

You trust her, you ultimately do and she knows she won’t let yourself be in the brink of harm or anything that can make you feel anxiety. “Okay then, I’d love to see your dynamics with Winter too…”

You both laugh faintly, as she kissed your collarbone and averted those orbs of hers towards yours for the umpteenth time. “Oho, there’s a lot and gosh, I’m excited for tomorrow…”

You yawn, almost burying yourself onto the pillows that signifies your drowsiness. “You know, I should probably sleep now, Karina—tomorrow’s a long day.”

“For both of us too…” Karina adds, and her hands tuck your hair behind your ear, then muttering the words, “Good night, baby.”

“Good night too, Rina.” You kissed her on the lips again, and then pulled away, matching her energy as she laughed and became more flustered because of it.

“You know that I love you so much, right, babe?”

“Of course, I love you too—like, so much, Rina.”

You pulled her into another torrid kiss, her hands finding your neck as you indulged for more and god, this felt like it would never stop, until dawn.

Not going to lie, whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll look forward to it and you’re reassured knowing it’s Karina within your side. A great way to end this day is probably another animalistic approach and you can’t be bothered to make yourself deprived with that.

Or is it?

The night is still young, and limits are still onto the horizon on what’s possible to do…

---

It was one hell of a night, mostly in the excitement of missing each other’s intimate presence and the little bonds that you’d take as a win. You’ll eventually receive texts from Winter which you eagerly responded to, feeling butterflies whenever you reply and it’s one of the best things to happen nowadays.

You’re getting ready for the first milestone on this day, and the best way to encounter a nuisance is a buzz from your phone, coming from Karina.

katarina_for_u at 13:14 - “I’ll be just meeting the both of you outside the university’s grounds, ok?”

You’re a little surprised, knowing she probably has a class at this given time frame, and possibly ending before the sun settles.

You reply, “Don’t you have a class right now?”

You wait for a little while, before you can see Karina typing again and anticipating her answer.

katarina_for_u at 13:15 - “Well, it’s actually postponed and ㅠㅠ I forgot to say it to you…”

You won’t mind that honestly and see it as an absolute win. You never felt those little triumphs in you once she texted that, and you could never start yourself standing so proudly. You didn’t mind it that much once she said that she never told you about it, so you replied back only for another notification popping up onto your phone and that averted your attention.

kim_winter at 13:18 - “Hi! I’ll be waiting for you in the AVR, the right side of the seats, a little in front. See you!”

These girls have their own appeal and you’re just in shambles with it. Winter’s amicable tone when texting is something adorable, you may even say it’s opposite to what you’ve thought of her prior to yesterday’s meeting. You can really sense growing that attachment towards her within your friendly relationship with her, and that’s all that matters, whether it’s benefiting inside the university or solely just expanding your circle.

And it’s just great for your popularity and how you’ll see things—clearly, knowing a lot of people will help you with improving your social skills and the way you approach them, or even strangers.

Yet the circle is mostly sequestered between the three of you, concealed from the others and you’ll live with that most of the time.

You reply back to Winter while brushing your teeth, and you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling that confidence in you and the trust within you on what this day can offer.

Really, you’re just in the tip of the iceberg…

---

“Never knew there’ll be so many people in here, Winter.”

Winter bites her lips, playing with her lips as she nods slowly. “Yeah, and it’ll be a long one too…”

You could already sense the boredom laced within her voice, and it’s going to be the battle on who’s going to be utterly invested at the of the event (not going to lie, you’ll probably will be interested in this but you wouldn’t lie to your teeth to say this won’t delve down onto such ennui).

Your eyes wander around the people that’s taking their seats and the people working behind the scenes of the event. You do that for a few more seconds, then check on your phone and then scroll onto the endless blue light it emits, then at the end, earn a smile or possibly, a faint chuckle.

Winter then interrupts you with a light tap onto your shoulder, and immediately, you turn off your phone and shift your attention to her. “Anyways, did Karina tell you something about us three like—hanging out or some sort?”

You fake a cough, covering your mouth with a tight fist as your eyes widen, amused with the fact that she’s also aware of what’s going to happen after this (Karina and her have connections, so it’s not surprising to bear such news to the very least). “Yeah, yeah—actually she said it first to me and had that first thought but like…”

You produce this vacuum-like sound, which can be considered tinnitus or some sort and then bite your lip as Winter anticipates, “Like what?”

You scoff, averting your eyes to her, “Like do you really like this? Like, if you would hang out with us, would you?”

Winter hitches a breath, scoffing too as she feels like your question sounds a little dumb since the answer is probably obvious. “Tch, o-of course! You know, I really wanted to know more about you and Karina is such a great friend to hang out with—I can just see ourselves in a win.”

Totally convinced right from the start of her tone, you nod slowly and have yourself some peace of mind, knowing Winter is eager to do this.

This coursing sensation within you distracts you, and it’s like a bugbear you can’t seem to get rid off—and still, the peace of mind is still faux. This is risky for a girl like her to know such things you want to address, even if it’s some sort of an enigma that has some double meaning. Your mind is shouting at you to do it and with the fire in you ready to burst out, you knew it was time but you’re going to play safer.

“Winter…”

“Yeah?” She continued viewing her eyelashes onto her phone, and then averting those alluring eyes of hers to you.

“You know Karina’s one hell of a girl, y’know?” Your eyes feel weightful, head tilted by a little and weirdly enough, she’s piqued on what you’re trying to imply.

“Like in what way?... Like something crazy, wild or—”

“That!” You exclaim a little-too-loud as you paint a sheepish façade, and then brushed off when no one possibly hears your tone’s ebullience. “Sorry, like that—oh gosh, how would you know?”

Winter’s face is confused, but eventually, got the grip on what hit your buttons. “So wait… her being wild? Am I right?.... Like…”

“Yeah, that, actually…” You feel a little ashamed of why you’re bringing this out, and eagerly apologize. “God, I’m sorry for bringing this out…”

Winter’s hands roam to your shoulder, reassuring you that it’s not really that taboo at her end. “Oh no no, actually, Karina-unnie’s other side is pretty common on my end too…”

Honestly, right now, you’re fucking shocked on how she is straightforward, composed and not even disgusted to the slightest. You felt yourself on the edge of a cliff but saved with how she took this possibly embarrassing conversation effortlessly. You sighed in relief and your curiosity’s at an all-time high right now.

“Oh wow, I thought you'd be like weirding out—”

“Oh, hah…” Winter scoffed, rejuvenating herself with a light shake of her head, eyebrow raising and then down, as she continued, “Maybe if it’s the other girls, then probably that will end there but not me…”

You don’t know why, but you admire her composed demeanor and you love it. Your mouth is slightly ajar, still rendering how she’s taking this so calm. “You don’t mind if I ask how often she’s sharing something like this?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty rare and please don’t get mad if I say something like this, alright?”

You fixed your posture, cleared your throat, welcoming every word that comes out of her mouth with open arms. “It’s fine, you can share it, Winter.”

“She talks about you, on those given times too…”

Oh god, you were expecting it in the slightest, but you’re still baffled with that given fact and it’s evident with the gasp you let out.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry—god, please don’t—just keep this thing within us three, okay?” You’re a little weary, nervous too with the fact that Winter knows the factual sin between you and Karina but she assures you that everything’s going to be fine.

“I can assure you every secret with me is safe, and I will never tell anyone about this thing you’re having with Rina-unnie.”

At least she’s something to rely on with her given words, at least, for what you heard. “Ohh… glad it’s tight shut for anyone to know.”

“Truly, truly.” You should start and trust her, gain that building faith towards her and this is a great start and the best part here is her genuine approach.

Even if it’s just this quick for the both of you to be too comfortable, it’s just in the right pace considering having attachments with Karina eased both of your socializations with each other.

You just pray to god that the secret never sees the light of day. Hopefully…

---

Sun’s starting to set, hours have been spent on something that’s probably helpful, to the very least knowing that you've learnt something and it goes the same with Winter. Your lazy ass wouldn’t appear onto these kinds of events if you weren’t having a name for yourself.

But those flew away from the fabric of time, and all that matters is between the three of you and what Karina has in store for the both of you. You walk with Winter out of the halls of the conference building and onto the parking lot, escorting her and you immediately give her the green light to be your passenger for this night.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

You scoff, “Of course, Winter—you gotta go to the backseat though, if you don’t mind it.”

“Of course, it’s not much of a deal—thanks anyways.”

These small things of appreciation makes your heart flutter, and you’re liking her even more—her respect towards you grows exponentially, and it’s an element you’d grow accustomed to adore.

You open the door, and let her in like a princess as she playfully remarks, “Oh~ thank you… such a gentleman.”

“Small thing, Winter.” You can see the evident fluster up her cheeks, and you took it as a genuine reply with your actions.You closed her door and got up to your seat as a ding piques your attention.

katarina_for_u at 18:03 - “Fetch me at the resto just meters after the first turn of the university gates. See you, babe ;)”

It’s short and sweet, enough to curl your lips up to a genuine grin. You let Winter know about this, and she just nodded with that ramping vigor, feeling faintly excited with what’s going to happen.

You’re forming this judgment of thrill, anticipation in an all time high.

You’d expect the best to come and it’s yet to extract that ingenuity within you, an emotion sincere.

---

So, everything was just according to her plan? Walking together around and then ending it up with some nice dinner in some classy restaurant was something she was planning? Well, it surely won’t end so anticlimactic even though you enjoyed the talks you had with these beautiful women—some are engaging, little-to-no chances of dull topics and enjoyed it all throughout.

It was pretty tiring right now but not when you’re around them—you feel this surge of energy coursing within you everytime, filling up your tank.

“Oh, unnie’s choices are amazing. From food to places, wow…”

Karina laughs with Winter’s subtle compliments even though some are probably laced with sarcasm, and you laugh with their playful banters and conversations while keeping your focus on the road. How could they act such dorks and be so unserious when they look like the most modest people that had walked on this planet—maybe, the dualities do wonders and it’s such a great contrast.

“You don’t have to wear something so elegant, Rina.”

“Why not?” Karina’s tone is uplifting, curious on why you would ask such a thing. “This is not even that elegant, but just enough for something classy…”

“Unnie’s probably making herself look more beautiful for you.” Winter adds to the spice of the conversation, which she felt proud with and chuckled right after. Karina’s probably blushing right now with what she had said and given the enlightenment, she’s probably riding with that motive.

Karina pretends to be annoyed with Winter’s remarks, and keeps the vibe lively and delightful as possible. “Yah! I just wanted to dress like this, don’t you like it?”

You’re not going to lie, in every outfit she wears, she kills it everytime and there’s nothing she can’t pull off because of how she’s a natural breed in the world of fashion but you stand with what you said—this looks way too classy but you’re not complaining, she even looks stunning and surreal with this outfit.

“Well, I guess there’s something we needed to do to conclude this day.”

Both you and Winter’s faces contort onto this bewildered expression, utterly curious too as you asked what’s on her mind.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll stay at your place for the night—you know, to have some fun, haha…”

That chuckle is nothing close to being innocent. You and Winter probably know this other nature of Karina, and you know this fun she’s describing is involving something that’s off the charts.

You’re hesitant and didn’t lose your focus, a little perplexed why Karina would choose your place for the three of you to stay. “I don’t know, Karina—if you’re pulling up something again, it’ll better to your—”

“Please, babe?” Her tone is enough to make yourself feel endeared and mostly, convinced. Gladly, you can’t see her doe eyes pleading for you or else, you could have lost it and given in immediately—either way, you’ll eventually fall for her spell because she’s that irresistible.

“Okay, it’s fine—but whatever you have in mind, there’s no turning back, alright?” You plant this mischievous smirk curling up your lips and immediately, she knows what you’re talking about even though it wasn’t anything straightforward.

It’s the lust that powers her, and inadvertently, you steal glances with Winter on the front mirror, raising both eyebrows as she knows what’s up with Karina’s plans.

“Of course, well you gotta get that beast ready.”

Right, like you thought about earlier.

---

Events unfolded like the speed of light and it’s deemed to be factual, as actions could make time flow faster than usual. Now at your place, there wasn’t much of something with an introduction and only so subtly. Winter eyes your place and commends how simple and neat everything is and as usual, Karina was frankly remarking everything you needed to know, and how Winter is something more than what you already thought—also, it was clear that she was still naïve with what’s underlying the real thing and everything behind it.

Winter’s shy with Karina’s boldness and she’s not denying anything. All of your assumptions of Winter being just like any other girl was fading as soon as Karina unravels her other nature.

It was a bold and a truthful assumption from your side, clearly thinking that she was all innocent but you never thought the fact her duality can be deceiving. You can’t blame yourself to think Winter just has the same energy as Karina, and the stars could never align so perfectly. You’re also lost within the thought, touching Karina intimately, hands running down her waist as you handle her with that ramping aggression until she stops and inches herself away from you.

Of course everything starts with a little hint of spice, their dispositions clearly shifting and you assure yourself that you’ll get used to both of them being in their own nature with their given sides.

“Care to eye for some starters, Winter?” Karina raises an eyebrow, clearly willing for an aid to her fantasies.

Winter is thinking, lost in the thought deeply as seconds come by until she parts her lips, “I would want some, yes…”

You thought she wouldn’t care for that, but a visual representation would be the safer bet as echoing what’s said earlier, she's still clearly oblivious about the real thing, assuming the lack of her knowledge of how these things work.

She wouldn’t be up in the ranks if it weren’t for her intelligence, so that assumption was deemed to be proven false.

Karina kneels, looking at you, through your soul as she talks to you about it. “Don’t cum that fast, I’m going to put on a show for Winter here.”

You chuckle, clearly letting herself get ahead and over, and subconsciously admiring her playful intent. “Bold for you to assume that, huh?”

Karina’s mischievous grin was the last thing she flashes you before she could get onto work. The air permeates the cool breeze but is later rivaled with her hands onto your boxers, finger twirling onto your conspicuous tent teasingly. She wouldn’t waste such precious time just to tease a man like you and to her own defense, you’re clearly insatiable.

Both up to the like, every second is golden and shouldn’t wasted—

Karina pulls your boxers down, and down to your ankles they go and kick it off just to the side, deeming it worthless and just a nuisance with your aching tent. You coo with the coldness and moan once she places her hand onto your vigorated length, clearly stroking it to elevate the pleasure.

“Look, Winter…” Karina strokes you in need, spitting onto your cock as every twist and dexterous movements is taken down as a note by Winter, and you can just see her eyes shine with lust and amusement. “See what I’m doing? You just need to rile things up first.”

And she didn’t miss.

Karina’s tongue swirls around the red-purplish crown, and a shudder is your response as well as a faint moan that strokes her ego and a signal of approval. She withdrew her touch from yours and faced Winter, “Your bright mind would take notes of these without my words, hm?”

Karina’s tone wakes Winter up from her not-so-apparent trance of drool, looking at her with such adorable and innocent intent as a nod follows. “Yes, I can, Rina…”

“Call me your unnie for now, would you?” Her face exudes utter seduction, clearly built to be like a charismatic vixen while she asks Winter about this little name-calling.

Winter nods and Karina curls up a satisfied smirk. “Good… Also, just ask my boyfriend what do you want to call him.”

You’re a little perplexed, unable to even be a step ahead of how you want to be addressed for this moment and with a conclusion, you’d like to see Winter try.

Winter’s eyes expand by a little, hands fidgeting the hem of her jacket as you know how shy she is, given how Karina’s actions are making things awkward but she manages to not let those battles be a hindrance. “How do you want to be called?”

You gulp and try to clear your mind, possibly fighting the urge to moan with Karina’s enervating touches while talking to Winter. “Just call me daddy, okay?”

Winter’s eyes are alluring and those scintillations proved that fact, and you smirk with her apparent nod and with her coy smile. You find your hands combing and caressing Karina’s hair as she slobbers all around your length, hungry and desperate to put a memory for Winter that she would remember until the end of time.

You don’t need to invest into some extensive research to know if Winter’s enjoying this, her subsequent lip bites and eyes laser-focused onto the bobbing figure is enough evidence.

Karina’s supreme display of talent shows and she knows how to get it done. Picture this, crystal clear: She’s alternating between strokes onto your base and furious bobs, the incredible stimulation of your balls with her hands and the lathered drool seeping out of the caldera of her mouth and all over to her pants.

The nigh-absence of gag reflex makes the sight even more hotter (the numerous blowjob sessions with her helped a lot) as it allows for more opportunities to display her limits, and so she does.

She’s taking you fully, nose flushed onto your lower abdomen and closing her eyes, testing how far and long she can be in this state. It’s probably eight or ten seconds that had passed and she’s not pulling out, and you decided to do the little game of asphyxiation. Her hands grip your thighs for leverage, nails digging deeper as you pinch her nose, blocking her airways.

It stays for a few more seconds until she’s flushed red, and the inevitable is bound to happen: pulling out of your length and gasping desperately for oxygen.

“Hah—w-what are you doing?” Karina’s visible frustration sends you chuckling, and you reassure and let her know something.

“Don’t you always want that, Rina?”

“God—” Karina hitches a breath, clicking her tongue and she looks up at you, eyes in contact with laced vexation. “—don’t do that! I’m putting up a show for Minjeong here!”

“Hey, uhm—it’s totally fine…” Winter butts in, putting up a halt on an escalating argument as you and Karina’s eyes widen, interesting with the fact that she wants these kinds of stuff.

“You don’t mind the little asphyxiating play?” You ask her, a little bothered by the fact she probably doesn’t like the fetishes. “I’m sorry if it’s—”

“No, it’s really fine!” Winter’s reassuring and bubbly tone makes you conclude up the final verdict, and a sigh leaves your lips regarding that. “I wanna see from you daddy, and Rina-unnie…”

Karina’s hands stroke your rock-hard shaft as the sudden action makes you avert your attention towards her, and her expressions just signifies hubris. You let her know Winter’s wants, and you don’t want it unattended. “You heard her, Rina.”

Karina hisses, and smiles faintly, directing towards Winter. “Use your words, Winter.”

“Please unnie, suck him off.” You heard it loud (mostly it’s faint, but who cares) and clear yet Karina has other plans.

“Can’t quite hear you princess…”

Winter gulps, parting her lips as she raises her voice, “Please suck daddy off, unnie! Want to see everything and your skills, unnie s-so—please!”

This egotistic slut. When in bed, Karina’s becoming a totally different person, gone are her bubbly and loving personalities once she gets to feel or even see your throbbing cock and it’s such an unbreakable spell.

Knowing Winter’s words is sincere enough, Karina won’t let her deprive off her needs of a tutorial as she takes you in, slowly and sloppier than ever.

A clench, she grips you tighter. A touch, she gives more. A moan, she ups the pace. It’s a given cycle, a wheel spinning around, repeating the patterns that you could never get tired of.

You’re lost under her control yet Winter’s voice piques your attention. “Daddy, why doesn’t unnie gag that much?”

Well, the conclusion is mostly approved—she wasn’t so naïve about these things, huh?

Your groan, taking a second before you could respond, “Well, Winter—your slutty unnie right here has been blowing my dick for numerous times that she just grew accustomed to it.” Your eye contact with Winter was something enchanting, genuinely delightful seeing how interested Winter is before averting your attention again to the slobbering picture of Karina impaling her throat with your entire length. “You see the way she bobs her head, taking me down fully? That’s how you know she’s a slut for my cock.”

Even if Karina protests, truth is too powerful to be hidden and she wouldn’t pull out to your permeating succulence just because she wants to retaliate in words.

Karina just dugs deep, messier and god, the sight is turning Winter on so much—knees meeting each other, feet apart as her face just defines lust with the sight.

Curiosity still imbues through Winter, willing to learn from the both of you. “Gagging is just normal when you’re inexperienced, right, daddy?”

You nod, a reassuring action that lets her know about the wonders of such a show. “It’s completely normal—fuck, right, yeah it’s normal, Winter.”

Winter nods as her eyes continue to watch Karina with her oral expertise, pleasuring you with such talent that you can’t define how stupendous she is when she’s on her knees. As much as you like to probably paint her throat white, or the immediate besmirchment of that angelic visage of hers, Winter is the star here and Karina is just a tool for learning.

You tap Karina’s shoulder, and she obliges quickly, knowing how she shouldn’t be rewarded right after. Karina just stands up, looking at you as you giggle, marveling with the fact she did put up one hell of a show for Winter. “You’ll get your reward later, Karina.”

Karina parts her mouth, shaped like an ‘O’ as her eyebrows are raised from the shock. “You know it’ll be better for Winter right here—you’ve rewarded me plenty of times already…”

Karina’s confidence is through the roof, and it’s just a great recipe to be a mentor for an inexperienced Winter.

“Come here, Winter.” Winter stands up from her seat, coming closer to the both of you as immediately, Karina commanded her to kneel down in which she obliges. “You can take it easy first, and when you feel like diving for more, let yourself be, is that clear, Winter?”

Winter nods, pouting her lips as she looks up to you and then, towards her. “Mhm, yes, unnie.”

“Good.” Karina pats Winter on the head, caressing those blonde locks of hers and Karina averted her attention to you, straightforward and clearly leaning for you to handle Winter with care. “And you, use your words, okay? Minjeong likes being praised—strokes her ego definitely, hm?”

You smirk, hubristic towards Karina’s remarks, “Of course I am, and you Winter—” You caress her porcelain cheeks, admiring those innocent face of hers, as she looks up to you, clearly hungry and shy yet you have faith with what she can bring to the table. “—you’ll do great, have trust in you.”

Winter analyzes your length, eyeing every inch as she blows nervous breaths because of what she’s going to be tackling. You saw this and reassured her with your actions of playing with those pigtails, and Karina vocalizes her assurance through words. “You got this Winter, trust yourself.”

A simple nod is what it took before she took a hold of your shaft, from the base and got herself ready for what’s bound to happen. She parts her lips, kissing the head of your cock and you moan with the sensitivity she brings. She alternates between licks and kisses which eventually became redundant, and you wouldn’t complain since you wanted Winter to be comfortable around your length.

She takes your full tip, Karina motivating her with such praise that was evident with the way she works around you. “Great start, Winter, great fucking start.”

Winter hums, vibrations sending waves of gratification all over you as she dives in deeper, then bobbing her head with such a slow pace that you wouldn’t mind. She closes her eyes, feeling every movement devoted to wring out the pleasure within you and it’s effective—she’s a natural at this.

Her tongue works well for a rookie like her, constantly licking your head while she works up her pace moderately. You could feel a little bit of that tooth of her, and you wouldn’t mind that given the fact that it compliments the pleasure she brings—you got that masochistic side in you, too.

“You can hollow your cheeks if you want, or you can go deeper and keep that pace…” Karina mouths her suggestions, as she bites her lips with Winter’s oral endeavors, absolutely marveling her sullied face full of her spit. She does what Karina told her, coming up on a conclusion that it would elevate both of your experiences with the given situation.

She does wonders around your throbbing length, creating a vacuum as she hollows those puffy cheeks of hers, and you can sense how she’s been wanting for god knows how long.

Karina chuckles with your current disposition, succumbs and drowns in the state of bliss but clearly fighting it. If Karina would know how soft, tight and pleasurable Winter is doing around your lengty then wouldn’t be laughing as such.

“Use your words.” Karina tells you, imperatively, about how you can tame Winter and how you can use your advantage against her, benefiting the both of you.

“Such a good girl, Winter—fuck, that’s great.” You can’t manage to lock a gaze onto her bobbing blur, clearly being lost with the pleasure as you savor every second of it.

Winter achieves greater depths, and eventually, she gagged and tried to tame it but in the end, wasn’t deemed successful.

“Oh shi—fuck, I’m sorry, daddy…” Winter catches her breath, face flushed red as she apologizes more about her sudden testing of her limits. You tilt her chin up, facing you as you smile with her skills given her inadequacy on the real scope of things.

“It’s fine, Winter—you did such a great job for me.”

“Yes, he’s right—you did a fantastic job, Minjeong.” Karina smiled mischievously, patting the back of her head and Winter felt more flustered with it, ears with a rosy hue as both your compliments boosts her mood.

“I’ll always be a great girl for daddy…”

She will be.

Winter gains that confidence, immediately taking you in, more sloppier than before as her pace is fast enough to make a mess out of her mouth. She took mental note from earlier, fondling your balls in aims to draw your orgasm closer, to the edge and you admire her initiative. You continue to caress her blonde locks, even tugging onto those nicely-tied pigtails of hers as Karina whispers in her ear, urging her to do more and make you even writhe under her oral control.

“Swirl your tongue, Winter. Stroke his cock too while you’re at it—he loves it.” You sure do.

Winter’s tongue dances around the length of your shaft, as her other hand pumps your shaft in an alternating pattern with her bobs. Up, down, then left and right, the sight down below looks like a dream—no one could possibly know how an innocent looking secretary would be such a cockhungry woman and honestly, you’re here for it.

Karina lifts Winter’s chin up, making her break the trance of solely closing her eyes to feel everything, and maintaining that eye contact that you always wanted.

“There you go, he likes it too when both eyes have contact.” You sure do, again. Winter’s eyes glisten under the moderately vibrant lights the room brings, maintaining such eye contact while bobbing her head repeatedly with an intent to please you. You caress her chin and play with hair, even brushing off some strands that get onto her beautiful and ruined countenance.

Winter gags frequently but she fights it, taming and pushing what she can do and that alone, earns a commending action from her.

She pulls out of her tight encapsulation, eyes lost within yours as she mutters faintly and desperately, “Did I do good, daddy?”

Fuck. They way looked at you, adorably and begging to be ruined could never go wrong. Karina strokes her head, proud for what she's done as you say your own judgment. “Of course you did, Winter—you’re a natural at this…”

The final touch elicits a moan from Winter that makes your cock throb. It was worse when Winter found your length again, handling it and resuming what she’d started.

While being impaled with your shaft inside her heavenly mouth, Winter looks to her right, focused onto Karina as Karina mouthed the words that drop the green light. “Keep sucking him, okay? I’ll make out with him while you’re busy.”

Winter just nods and smiles, mouth full of your cock as your attention is diverted towards Karina, her seductive never failing to make you fall for her as she knows how desperate she became once she saw Winter’s blowjob image.

“Can’t really resist me, huh, Rina?”

She laughs as her hands find their way to your back, inches close towards you as she mouthed such alluring words—her tone clearly helping. “Of course how can I? I can’t just watch my friend here and you having all of the fun yourselves.”

You shake your head, looking at the distance and then back to her eyes, endeared with her scent. “But you literally just sucked my cock like three minutes ago.”

As selfish as she is, you have a point with that yet the three of you deserve equal treatments of pleasure. Karina punches you a little, before maintaining another contact with her that just prepares her for what’s going to happen. “It doesn’t matter—just kiss me, will you?”

Those are words that won’t be left unattended. You push your lips against her, clearly resonating your love and lust for her as every clash results into moans and hums that orchestrate such fine music. The reciprocation was evident, clearly starved with your taste and yearning for more.

Winter hears all of the cacophonous sounds the both of you make, and she would match the energy the both of you emit. So, without a doubt, she takes you deeper, almost touching the base as she gags and controls herself, fondling your balls with such intent to draw you into your own Achilles’ heel. You sensed what she’s trying to do, resulting in deepening the kiss with Karina, torrid and sloppier as the both of you danced your tongues against each other for the sake of supplementing each other’s deprivation.

The scene is getting hotter than hell, and the scene is portrayed like this: Winter’s hands are just digging her nails deeper onto your thighs as she takes you in, pulling out in random intervals and then taking you in again; such hot exchanges of intimate kisses between you and Karina, even making a mess on both your mouths. Every second is up to all your likings, every movement is deriving pleasure up to the bone, and Karina’s being bolder by the second, unbuttoning your long-sleeved polo and undressing your tie.

She’s swift with it and you could’ve stopped her if you wanted to, but you didn’t care as long as Winter’s worshiping your cock and Karina’s lips tangled against yours.

It’s unholy and angelic, best of both worlds and it’s the first paramount.

Karina pulls out as the both of you exchange breaths, satisfied with such liplocking as her eyes averted towards Winter, who’s been gurgling on your length for minutes now.

“Look at you, Winter! Oh, you’re so messy—lipstick stained onto his shaft, tears flowing down your cheek and the drool—the fucking drool all over it.” Karina is astonished with Winter’s hunger, and the both of you are proud of what delved into, to the point of no-return.

The tumultuous moans of pleasure may seem to meet in a halt, feeling the familiar sensation onto your groins coming closer exponentially as each second passes by.

You’re vocal about it, and Karina seizes this as an opportunity for a choice: “Hear that, Winter? He’s close—so close to cumming.”

“Mhmm—ghh” Inaudible sounds just came out of Winter's mouth, but Karina’s smart enough to decipher and translate such messages. You can’t stop your moans and faint pleas, running your hands through Winter’s locks as you succumb deeper, closer to the promised land.

“Where do you want to finish and give your reward to our princess right here?”

It took you a second, and you stood by it, never hesitating, “Want our pretty Winter here be rewarded beautifully—probably just going to add to the mess her face has right now.”

You always loved painting, especially on a pulchritude of a canvas begging to be spoiled with your own artwork.

Winter pulls out strings of saliva adding to the filthiness as Karina commands her to aid your impending orgasmic high, “Stroke that cock, princess—aim it right at you and embrace it.”

Winter just nods, unable to utter words as her sole focus is to wring out the seed of her hard work, and it’s just within her grasp.

You’re shooting, cumming all over the fine visage of hers, and you repeatedly moan in increasing decibels for such euphoria. Nose, cheeks, hair, neck, even her clothes��you name everything your cum landed on and she’s entirely grateful about it, humming soundly as she gratified to even taste your sweet seed.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Karina interrupts, and Winter smiles at her gleefully as she loves what just happened.

“I like daddy’s delicious cum, unnie—hah, I n-never thought this could feel great.” An exasperated blow leaves her lips, her hands still tasting the cum that’s painted on her and she still keeps that vibrant, sincere smile since the start. You commanded her to stand up and she does what she’s told, quickly getting up and helping her a little, and expectedly, Karina interrupts with sin spilling out of her very lips. “You know that we’re still not done, right, Winter?”

She gazes at the cum-glistened Winter, eyes meeting hers as her aura alone intimidates the both of you, most likely yours. Winter pouts her lips, looking down as she faints a reply, “Of course, unnie…”

Karina nods, parting her lips as she turns back to you and you anticipate what can come out of her lips. “Tell her what you want to experience, Winter.”

Winter’s lips quiver, eyebrows furrowed as she felt the slightest of that progressing nervousness. “I want to f-feel you, daddy…”

You grab her wrists, leaning her petite frame towards you, dangerously close as you run your fingers through her fair complexion, cleaning her off and then directing it onto her mouth. She obliges, sucking onto your fingers and feeding her starvation as Karina strokes her hair, mouthing the words Good girl repeatedly—it’s a chant to tame and make her as pliant as possible, and it’s absolutely effective.

Karina kisses her nape, earning a squirm under her touch as you continue cleaning her off, aiming to unsoil to make yourself in awe over her ethereal face. “Tell me something, Winter—” She continues suckling onto your fingers, savoring every second that counts that plunges her mouth. “—like everything you want to happen…”

You pull out of her mouth’s embrace, uttering needy moans and whines escaping Winter’s lips as Karina encourages her. “Come on, Minjeongie—don’t be shy and let it all out.”

Karina’s voice melts Winter to the point that she could just stare at you, utter need with her eyes and laced with lust. She continues to moan with Karina’s frequent latches onto her pristine skin, calling her name as she draws herself closer to you, and you handle her with care, both hands onto her waist and inviting her. “You don’t mind leaning in for a kiss, won’t you?”

Winter’s breath brush against yours, knees shuddering with the sensitivity the both of you are bringing as Karina speaks for her. “She wouldn’t mind it—she’s been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

Winter can’t look at you, with her eyes closed, ending up in a predicament because of a profound confession which her friends say out loud, vocally. You tease her, shaking your head to play with her and she just lets out more gasps as Karina roams her hands all over Winter’s exposed skin. “Look who’s a needy, naughty girl, Winter, hm?”

Winter just drowns your eardrum with a pool of dulcet moans, a candy you’ll love to indulge on. It was eargasmic, as someone may say and Karina can confirm it, continuous with her worshiping and audacious advances. She tugs Winter onto hers, gaining control over your dominance as she hikes her skirt a little and then caresses her thighs, her name ringing like a chant on Karina’s ear.

Winter just hums, unable to speak with your lips clashed against hers, hands cupping her cheeks and delving deeper. It wasn’t voracious like you did with Karina, but more to let Winter undergo an unforgettable memory on how great this is. Karina’s a little left behind, feeling the both of you are exuding such hotness that baffles Karina and she loves to play alongside it—she keeps marking her neck and her nape, not enough to leave some hickeys but enough to elicit muffled sounds sequestered with your own lips.

Karina wants Winter to experience one hell of a night, and it’s a great start to let her hands wander around the lace of her panties, and onto that permeating heat of hers. Winter involuntarily moans through your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist tighter than before and Karina’s movements just sets gasoline to the flames.

The squelch makes your cock twitch and regain its vigor, and Karina was aware of this and whispered such sinful words to Winter. “Stroke his cock, princess—and I’ll finger you too so the both of you can experience the same height of pleasure.”

You heard Karina’s exchange of filthy temptations onto her ear as you grab Winter’s hand, directing them onto your invigorating length and without a hesitation, she pumped your shaft like she has something to prove. Well, she’s apparently building such a great foundation for the pillars of her prize—the golden words of your approval and satisfaction, even though you’ve said it multiple times.

Like what Karina said earlier—Winter likes to be praised at most times—was a factual statement and it was evident when she felt more rejuvenated when Karina motivated her. You hum with her given reciprocations as it is chaste yet heartfelt, hitting the right spots of fulfilling her deprivation.

She’s such a fucking natural, because the way she was enveloping your lips immediately after such momentary pull-out was enough to impress you and so did Karina.

Karina continued her leisurely attempts of teasing Winter’s folds, mouthing words that accelerated the constant rate of pleasure coursing through her. “I think you’re ready to be fucked with how wet you are, princess.”

It just made clench harder, and Karina smirks knowing it’s her kryptonite. Being called names defining how obedient she is just states the fact about her certain fetish, and Karina knows how to exactly push her buttons.

You pull out of her lips’ tight embrace, tucking her hair behind her ear, and you conclude your own verdict with Karina’s words. “Oh—you’re dying to be fucked, did I hear that right, Winter?”

Winter nods, a sly smile curling her lips as she continues to pump you, yet you hinder it with your own hands as you’re saving up such a progression for what will happen later. “Yes, daddy—I fucking want it s-so much…”

Karina laughs, knowing how sincere Winter’s pleas are. “She isn’t lying—she’s fucking wet just saying that alone.”

Winter’s subsequent faint moans was a reply to Karina’s repertoire of skills, plunging deeper and swiping it up and down, making Winter’s brain go haywire. Absolutely making yourself feel such libido skyrocketing, you savor the moment of two of the hottest and prettiest girls you’ve ever known making a mess for you to drool on (mostly it’s Winter being spoiled and all-too-filthy).

It is their moment, clearly the other giving it all and the other all to receive and fuck, it’s such a hot sight. You can’t tame yourself to just be a bystander and with a single tug onto Winter’s hem of her skirt, you asked her. “May I?”

“Mhm, daddy—hah…” You then pull her panties, and down to her ankles thanks to gravity, making the scene double the damage as you play with her glistening clit. It feels like she’s just programmed to moan on a constant loop, never-ending as both your fingers stimulate her to the roof.

Karina lets out a sigh, feeling the air inside the rook is getting humid with all of your combined hotness. “Looks like this is the best time to strip, especially in front of the both of you.”

You’d never thought this day would be any better without another show from Karina’s seductive expertise. You’d not put any of your responsibilities in mind if the both of them will be your way to pass the day and let yourself be aware of this: they are intoxicating and insatiable, and you can’t seem to see yourself hesitating.

Karina undresses her blazer-like top, tossing it somewhere and then goes to another set of clothing and it’s such great fuel to keep you going. You kiss Winter’s collarbone as you eye Karina’s stripping, feeling every graceful movement of her sends you into hypnosis but you’re sturdy enough to fight it. You keep your fingers thrusting into Winter’s tightness, your length persistently throbbing as you do your work and you are perplexed when her faint voice breaks your trance. “Isn’t unnie the hottest—ohh, girl on the p-planet?”

You look into her eyes, those glistening orbs tend to allure people including you, and you could just mutter the truth right in front of her. “Both of you are, Winter.”

Winter’s genuine grin with a hint of modesty could never fail to make you fall for her charm. Swift like the wind, Karina’s only left with her lingerie as you stop her when she’s about to reach for her heels, opting for a way that could relive your prolonging fetishes.

“Leave the heels on, please, Karina.”

Her face just exudes the brattish attitude and that everlasting hubris you always adore whenever it breaks, eyebrows raised as she feels like this wasn’t expected. “Why though? It’s not like you’re gonna fuck me, also, not with these on—”

“But I will.” The girls were flummoxed with your decision (mostly Winter) as Winter’s eyes craved for your attention towards her, hands roaming onto your back with a goal to know what might happen.

“You’re going to fuck unnie?” God, you could never fully fathom the fact that such sinful words could leave those innocent lips of hers, but that was such a false assumption as the earlier session says otherwise. It’s still perplexing to say the least, and you love it—you love how she’s gaining more confidence as she gets comfortable with the grasp of events that’s occurring.

You cradle your hands between her waist, flashing a smile. “I’m going to fuck your unnie, Winter—” Her eyes gleam the undying lust, in utter need as she anticipates what’s going to happens and what you’re aware of is that Winter knows how you’ll handle Karina up to your own accord. “—and I hope that’ll make you wetter once it’s your turn.”

You don’t even need that kind of an introduction if she’s already drenched, the repetitive music of her squelches with Karina’s control strengthens the claim. At this moment, you’re just making things in her favor and testing what she can bear, just by voyeur for the time being, on the front seat..

“Karina, come here.” Winter draws back, sitting at the bed as Karina swifts its way onto you and you’re handling her with such ferocity that even galvanizes Karina, eyes widening and hands over your waist.

“You’re such a pervert, y’know that?”

“Well—” You yank Karina’s wrists, putting them in place and she whines needily. She doesn’t need to say that, and she knows how you’ll always think about ruining her whenever she’s all stripped like this—just with her lingerie and her heels exudes such elegance that is dying to be sullied. “—I’ll let Winter know how much of a slut her best friend is.”

Winter laughs and with her regained confidence and comfort as she adds, “Unnie even told me how you’re always making her cum so much…”

Karina glared at Winter playfully, shocked at how bold and vocal Winter is. You smack Karina’s buttcheeks with power enough to make her wince in pain, and right after, smiling with the pleasure it brings. You stare at her eyes, and all you can see is the glistening of her pupils desperate to feel you yet she masks it with the smirks and possibly a stern face. Her hands aren’t idle, running down your back as you feel yourself at the peak of such sensation that no one can stop you. “Turn around and bend over to that table, right now.”

Karina laughs, surprised with your immediate commanding nature and Winter is feeling the need to unveil Karina’s true nature in front of hers eyes. Without any hesitation, Karina bends over the desk and spreads her legs open, laying flat on her stomach and her legs standing onto the floor.

You’ll promise that once you’re done with her, those legs wouldn’t stand so robustly, and would be precarious for her to know who owns her. “Put on a show for our princess here, babe.”

Karina’s choice of names and words never ceases to amaze you or rile you up, as her eloquence in the field of seduction should be studied—maybe Winter can learn a thing or two with her, but what she’ll learn now will be more than that. Karina wiggles her ass, arms grabbing on both sides of the table and with her current position, you can’t be distracted with anything other than drooling and eyeing every inch of her faultless, pristine body that’s sculpted by the gods above.

The fine plane of her figure bent down, pressed on her weight is such a sight that tests temptation and the utter need to use her. She’s so vulnerable and she loves it. You make her wince in pain with your deafening spanks and she drips uncontrollably. Your hands strip Karina’s panties, just down to her hamstrings and immediately, you’re invited with her dripping heat, yearning for your contact. You swipe the slit with your fingers, probably four times, in an up and down motion and then teased her puckered hole that eases up once you plugged your thumb in it.

“God—I—s-still can’t believe you’re so good at this.” Barely registering and occupied with repeated motions on her heat, you continue your assaults onto her cunt, moans bound to spiral out of control whenever the time comes.

You smile with profound confidence, knowing you’re the best she ever had. “Of course, just gonna make this cunt wet enough for the taking.”

Karina repeatedly whines, her arms wagging a little due to the immense pleasure she’s experiencing. You steal ephemeral glances to Winter, touching herself with the sight and god, it’s just making you throb more.

You can’t resist it anymore as the teasing suddenly ends up on a halt, and it was for the better. Karina grips the table harder, feeling the euphoria creating an endless stream of moans that fill your desires to even plunge more into her.

You are slow, savoring every thrust as Karina was eager to let you know who she is. “Fill me up and fuck me hard—fuck me hard enough for Winter to drool on—oh!”

She’s still able to articulate eloquent words but that wouldn’t be happening when you’re in control. Knowing how vigorous Karina is and is up for the maximum taking, you slap her hips and use it as leverage to start the climax of the show. Her frame moves in tandem with your powerful thrusts, a motion to hypnotize you but ends up on her side—she’s gaining this stupor disposition whenever you’re getting balls-deep inside her.

A symphony was created, and a rhapsody lasts for an eternity and it’s simply with your hurried pumping, uttering such sinful sounds coming out from both your lips and with the given pace, she’s liable to give out.

She probably is, heels repeatedly clicking onto the marbled tiles was enough of an answer, knees shaking as you give your hundred percent, and in return, is mutual. You run your hands onto the pristine skin of her ass, giving another smack that makes her clench uncontrollably around your hammering length. You are rapid and destroying her tight, little cunt in every possible second and you can just see Winter in your peripherals, a faint blur as she fingers herself and frantically moaning with the sight.

“God—this is so good—so fucking good—hah!”

“Now Winter knows how much of a slut you really are. You’re commanding and strict outside, even on the campus with your name but when you’re with me, you suddenly give yourself, huh?” A smack, a strike resembling an immediate response but is unable to, moans outpower what she would like to say.

She’s wet and it’s better for you, knowing how you can glide easier into her tight cavern, filling it up to the brim and making her think of you only.

Another strike and she whimpers, “Asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Was i-it—hah—even a questio—ahh!” You pull her hair, continuously ramming her cunt and demanding an answer coming from her lips.

“I said what I fucking said, Karina.” It was stern, composed and filthy. Your words are scarce with mercy and bring an ounce of pity. You’re harsh, orchestrating the way she’ll reply with your thrusts and it’s not helping her, not when her moans become borderline screams caused by her extravagant waves of pleasure.

She’s dripping, and you can see it whenever you eye her buttcheeks jiggle with the force you’re exerting, clearly spoiling the floor. She raises her legs constantly, succumbing to the pleasure as every clack her heels make just adds to the cacophonous sounds of sex that fills the tension inside this room.

Winter’s eavesdropping could not be any better, every squelch and clap resulting from repeated thrusts inside her cunt. You’d probably say Karina would forget that she exists in this room, not when you’re fucking her up even mentally with how you tell your own pace.

You can feel Karina’s close, dangerously close as she lets you know that, unable to hold it in and eager to give it all out.

“So close, babe—fuck m-me up real good!” You grip her hips harsh enough to possibly leave a bruise, baragging her cunt with an onslaught of thrusts and eventually it wasn’t far from her triumphant roar, a scream signifying her final blow.

Thrusts are relentless and the inevitable does meet its fate, giving another set of hammerings before pulling out (it hurts to do so, but you’re dying to see her cunt spew mountains of her juices) and there she goes, letting everything out. She gasps with the high she’s experiencing, and you lean in on her to kiss her silky skin, peppering it with kisses that just makes your libido reach heights and stay there.

“Oh shit—fuck!” Karina whimpers, lips quivering as she looks over to her shoulder, still enervated with her recent orgasmic trance. She gets up with the help of her own arms, legs wobbling a little as she’s regaining her energy slowly, facing you with a sweet smile.

“Winter’s right actually—you’re always cumming so fucking much whenever I pound you silly.”

Karina’s a little hypocrite, not letting her ego be shattered and most likely, her dominant façade breaks loose.

“Whatever—well, I believe we got our main course right here.” Karina’s head shook, and her eyes directed towards Winter and with Karina’s words, she knew what’s bound to happen and you let your hunger take over you.

“Get up and take off that skirt, Winter.” It was dominant and provocative, but it’s going to be benefiting the both of you. You’ll bet your whole life and will win if Winter’s wet and without even telling nor showing anything, you could feel how wet she is, especially on how you used Karina’s pussy like it’s the final minutes of the world.

And it was set up all too well, Winter whimpering as the cool air blows her skin, feeling more sensitive as she exposes more of that desired treasure.

Skirt’s on the floor and off to somewhere else, a worthless piece of clothing and it was just the tip of the iceberg. With her damp slit now on full display, you let her spread her legs a little and Karina interrupts and guess what, this is a hidden gem for what Winter is about to experience. “Need to get your pussy nice and wet, hm? You wouldn’t mind that won’t you.”

Winter moans with Karina’s efforts, feeling every movement prone to break her apart as she thrusts her fingers up Winter’s walls from behind, mischievously grinning and chuckling seeing Winter sullies herself, bit by bit. The scene could never go wrong, dripping Winter’s juices onto her thighs as she grows drenched by the second, and you eyes her every inch and think how beautiful it is to ruin such a pure, pristine girl breathing in innocence.

You can’t say that now, not when Karina’s almost a knuckle-deep inside Winter and your cock teasing just near the vicinity of her folds.

“Breathe and feel everything, princess.” Karina whispers into her ear, earning a faint Yes from Winter and she just adds to the endless flow of moans and even messes up her own slit.

“I guess you’re ready now, Winter.” She’s barely standing straight for two reasons: one would be her knees giving up, failing her as she succumbs to the pleasure; and two, would be with the way you and Karina are handling her.

The climax starts, and you’re going to give her the best night she will never dare to forget, and let it etch into her brain.

Karina swipes her finger frantically for one last time, before you could take control by laying her back onto the bed. All you can do is be mesmerized with the vulnerable state she is in, laid down and you’re in full control over her. She chuckles with the heat permeating with your own touch, a little ticklish but that’ll do the trick and all you can sense the anticipating seeping in her pupils. You take a look over her impeccable features, the curves and the petite frame down to her waist was enough to make you drool, wanting to strip all of it but this outfit looks way too great on her to be deemed soiled.

She gasps, moans and you reply with control and dominance, slowly pushing your way in as she continuously whimpers. She writhes a little, on the verge of tears on how great it feels when it’s the real thing and you won’t give in to your feral thoughts on wrecking her like what you did to Karina.

“Does it feel good, Winter?” Karina leans onto the bed, whispering again with that sultry voice of hers. Winter just nods and is unable to let out coherent sentences when you’re inside her tightness.

“You know what? Winter’s fucking tight—god!” You exclaim, genuine with your words as it feels as heavenly as Karina. You insert more than half and Winter groans and pleads you for more, composing her breaths as she takes you like a champ.

“So good, daddy! So, so, good—mmh…”

“See? Taking that big cock of hers isn’t so easy, Winter, but you’ll get used to it once you get yourself comfortable.” Karina reassures her and believes she can take it all, and knowing how determined Winter is with all of her encouragement (most likely known as her moans of need) was enough to know she wants more.

You take a hold of her hips, legs now wrapping around your waist with a given set of thrusts just to get herself accustomed to your length. You’re not filling her up to the hilt, but more than half is inserted in every thrust you do, bringing waves of pleasure up in every inch of her body, closing her eyes to feel and cherish every second. Her legs flail in response with your thrusts, gripping onto the sheets for leverage and with the sheer power of each hard thrust, desperate and exhausted moans escape her lips. Karina’s voice encouraging and schooling Winter becomes a faint noise on your ears, too occupied with the fact that you’re pumping your length inside her impossibly tight cunt.

You’ll push it up, pull it up and you’re going to get it done—this just remarks the beginning of the reckoning, and you could just see yourself growing the pace within seconds.

“I never—I’ll watch Winter getting fucked by my boyfriend right here—doesn’t feel it good, hm, princess?” Karina fixes Winter’s hair, tucking it at the back of her ear as her ruined visage makes Karina in awe. Winter could just nod and mutter a faint Yes before moaning again with your moderate thrusts, achieving depths that’s almost the limit.

“Oh god—” You plunge more as per her requesting tone between pleas, making her utter words that aren’t articulately thought about at this point. “—you’re stretching me o-out, daddy!”

“That’s the spirit, princess.” Karina ends it up with a sinister grin, satisfied with the way you’re treating her as her innocence should be kept at bay and wiped, and it’s slowly going towards that way given your pace. Her thighs jiggle with your moderate pursuit onto her heat as she clenches once you run your fingers towards the pristine skin of her cheeks and onto her puckered hole. You groan with your given thrusts and wanting to savor the moment truly, you ask Winter with lust laced on every word, “Do you want me to go deeper, Winter?”

Your hands then roam on her arms, gaining control and feeling the silkiness of every inch, smooth to the touch and aiding the tension between the both of you. Your words just made Winter clench so tight that you elicited a soft moan that was a candy to both of their ears.

Karina adds, her words flaming up the fire of lust in her brain. “He’ll go deeper in you and you’re going to take it like a good girl, right?”

Another saccharine word strokes Winter’s ego, and it’s just making her behave under both your controls (mostly yours). Winter’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Winter with intent so desperate for more. “Yes—fuck, yes, unnie…”

Karina flashes another satisfied smile for the umpteenth time, signaling her delight with Winter’s submission and all you can feel is Karina tapping onto your shoulder, whispering onto your ear, “Fuck her silly and hard, like how she deserves it.”

You know Winter earned it, taking you like a good girl and how obedient she is strengthens the deal. You rivaled your moderate pace earlier, now ramping up and getting that momentum flowing, ramming her tight cunt in an mind-boggling pace that just uttered the most sinful and neediest moans known to mankind—Winter’s pitch of her tone makes it up to the submissive demeanor she already has, right from the start.

You’re doubting if you could go harsher with your pace, knowing how cautionary when Winter breaks apart and unable to take it all, yet it’s those moans that eliminate these thoughts of yours. Each moan inviting you to thrust in harder and with her repeated pleas, you could only oscillate harsher movements.

“God, she’s creaming like crazy onto your cock, babe—look at her!” Karina gasps after that, a little surprised at how Winter is forming rivulets of her juices and it just made it easier to glide in and withdraw, a repeated process that felt like hours.

You’re now in this constant state of fighting to ruin her truly, inviting her to the succumb onto the abyss of primal bliss, swimming onto it as you plunge her up to the hilt and with their voices forming a discordant sound aiming to break against your temptation, it wasn’t going to be a hard choice.

“Mo—more, daddy!” It’s the simple pleas like that keeps you going, clapping her hard against the mattress and as a result, gripping the sheets tighter that it may almost tear apart. There’s maybe ways to exert more power in her throat, accumulating such power to elicit more high-pitched moans and as much as they’re probably deafening, and a nuisance to the neighbors, one conclusion would be made up: it’s heavenly and musically dissonant.

“Karina…” You call her name, grunting a little as she looks up at you with such innocence—it’s unbelievably contradictory, the sight of her neck down says so—laced on her eyes. “Care to let Winter’s mouth work onto something?”

Karina responds with actions, quick to shut Winter up with her fingers that Winter enthusiastically sucked on. It was a ballistic approach but it’s aiding her an outlet to control herself and suppress the repeating resonating sounds.

All of you are sweating—mostly you, profusely—as the heat was too much to handle and it’s the greatest element of such a sinful event for the fact it just signifies the hotness the three of you emit. Karina inserts another finger, further amplifying the tension as Winter sucks on it like it’s her favorite lollipop, or the best case scenario here, like your succulent cock.

Karina’s fingers are probably soaked in saliva, Winter’s mouth becoming messier just made Karina think of something that will even test Winter’s capabilities and limits. Winter hums and squirms with fingers lodged into her mouth, and given the frequent movements you do, Karina thrusts her fingers onto Winter’s mouth, working alternately with your hips. Winter gags a little, repeated and then frequently, as Karina’s soothing voice trains her to tame it and be composed.

“It’s fine, princess—work it up for me. Close your eyes and just feel it.” Winter eventually embraces the fact that she’s gagging in every thrust Karina does, and she’s doing everything in her power to tame it and it’s not helping when you’re fucking her brains out.

Even with your thrusts laced to break, she remains vigorous and it’s really commendable—the way she’s taking every thrust burns a mental image in you that would scare you for life, in a great way. Winter is now holding onto Karina’s arm, gripping tighter by the second, still bobbing her head onto Karina’s fingers and eventually, Karina pulls out and Winter whines with her actions.

“I w-wanna—fuck! Wanna suck, p-please!”

“Oh, you needy, slutty princess… How the world made you, hm?” Those pleas are not going to be left unattended as Karina resumes plunging her mouth with her saliva-sheathed fingers, sucking and squirming onto it as it just made her even wetter. The repeated clenching and the disheveled look of Winter makes you throb hard, yet speaking of such impending orgasm, you could feel Winter’s getting closer.

“I think Winter’s gonna cum, Rina.” Ragged breaths come right after, a little spent but ultimately alternating between a slow and rapid pace to catch yourself some breather. You can tell how close she is, and wanting Winter to savor the moment of what could be the most euphoric experience that she’ll feel in her whole life. Karina pulls out of the heat of her mouth, tracing her collarbones and teasing, just to get herself riled up for what’s bound to be inevitable.

Winter’s plethora of moans lets you chase her high, fucking her mercilessly as Karina exclaims, wanting to capture a sight that’ll be a core memory for the three of you. “Pull out—pull out! Want her to squirt all over your cock, babe.”

You heard her and immediately obliged, and you could see the most sinful she’s ever become: her folds glistened, and eventually erupted like a volcano that messes up everything in its vicinity. She moaned uncontrollably, calling you for three times as she rode out her high, catching herself some oxygen as her orgasmic trance puts her on a stupor that’s making her feel spent up.

You let her recover, brushing your cock up against her gushing folds and even felt concerned with her current state.

“Winter, a-are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, I’m fine…” Winter sniffles, crying with the overwhelming emotions she’s feeling. You felt bad for going too berserk over her tightness, but with her petite frame still begging to be used, you know remorse would be the last thing you’ll ever consider.

“Tell it to him, princess—tell him what you want him to do.” Karina’s voice regains Winter’s senses, looking at you as her puppy-eyes begs you for something you can’t decline.

“Please f-fuck me again, daddy…” Winter’s legs shake, quivering as she feels vulnerable and blissful, and she loves it (at least her smile says so).

“More, princess—what exactly do you want to earn?” Karina’s unlocking her deepest desires, and it’s only a matter of time before you become aware of it (it’s most likely predictable at this point).

“Daddy’s cum…” God, her voice just made you throb repeatedly, that submissive, soft voice of hers is enough to be enlightened with her message.

“Where do you want it exactly, hm??” Karina faces you, then Winter, eyes anticipating an answer seeking reward and the utter fulfillment of the prophecy.

There Winter goes, predictable and relentless with her words.

“Inside me.”

Inside her, she says.

“You heard our princess, babe.” Karina’s lips brush ever so slightly onto your earlobe, whispering as her voice sounds like the devil making you give up to your temptation and as the endgame, you give in. “Don’t hold back and give her a deserved reward.”

That, you’ll do.

Done stroking your length, you insert it in her once again and still groan with her unparalleled tightness, and Winter immediately voiced out the pleasure you bring. She grips onto the sheets again, making her legs wrap around your waist again, locking you in place as you continue with your expertise.

Your arms then reach for hers, Winter then grabbing onto it like she’s clinging for her life, ensuing a reckless pace that just uttered the most sinful moans she could ever produce. You’re lifting her by a little, head throwing back and hanging a little on the air as she bounces in tandem with your repeated thrusts. Karina then latches her lips onto your back and shoulders, peppering it with kisses and worshiping every inch, feeding her hunger as your insatiability helps.

“My god, babe—you may actually fuck her senseless and put her into sleep.” Karina’s a little bewildered and feral with the way you’re handling Winter, and how Winter’s expression perfectly resembles a face of submission: mouth ajar, continuous with the moans, eyes slightly open and closing, disheveled blonde locks that’s still put in place with her pigtails and the utter mess onto her sullied face.

In other words, her image is now ruined, all thanks to you. She’s grateful for what she has become and fully embraces it—a mindless fucktoy that’s hungry for your cock.

It wasn’t far off before you can feel yourself near, close enough for Winter to embrace the inevitable. You let her go, and Winter thuds onto the mattress, moaning in pain and pleasure with each other movement your hips do. Karina’s hands roam down to your abdomen, caressing, flickering and teasing you to urge for your release and her words send your walls crumbling down: “Aren’t you close, babe? You seem to be groaning more than usual.”

You wince, lips quivering as you face her and god, her contact is enough to melt you. “I’m fucking c-close—yes.”

Karina smirks, hands roaming down towards your ramming length and was enthusiastic she could pull such a trick up her sleeve. “Great, now stop fucking her and let me do something.”

You appear to be puzzled, unsure of what she’s about to enlighten you but you did what she said, compliant and at Karina’s end, satisfied. “Don’t pull out—just leave the tip inside.”

There wasn’t a single idea embarked in your mind, but once she held your cock with vice grip and started stroking it vigorously, you know what she wants to pull off.

“That’s right…” Karina’s mouth is agape, eyeing your expressions as she strokes you into your own euphoric high, and Winter’s moans of encouragement just adds fire, mustering a velocity up at her wrists’ limits. “Fucking cum for me, babe—cum inside that tight, little pussy of our princess.”

Her words are like a fuse, and with the constant squelching of her dexterous fingers sets up a nice combination for the formula of your release.

“Cum for me, babe—fill her pussy up.”

A concoction signifying your awaited release, relentless with her wrists and her fingers and suddenly—

Winter cries, Karina grips tight and you elicit the reward of your hardwork and it ultimately pays off: Winter writhing as you deposit every thick spurt, forming rivulets down to the sheets when it's probably the penultimate second of your high. You never thought this would be such a hot sight to engrave your mind with and you’re honestly grateful for unlocking another one—this delves down to your trophies of Karina’s victorious intelligence, feeding the cabinet full of it as she brings another fetish down to the table.

You’re always winning, and you got to thank Karina with that.

“Fucking hell, Rina—shit, that’s hot…”

Karina’s hubris is stroke, smiling genuinely with the fact that this ticked one of your boxes. “Of course you’ll like this.”

This is a new element of surprise that you always love Karina for, and with that given uprising of emotions, you lunge in and give her some torrid kisses as she’s quick to reciprocate with it. Your cock still throbs in the air, dripping with Winter’s juices and you cum, and to your surprise, you could only sense a hand stroking it and humming onto Karina’s lips because of it.

A faint voice rings in your eardrums, mellow and sinful, just soothing your nerves. “May I please suck it, daddy?”

Of course, it’s Winter with her whole, new self, utterly ruined and confident with her new persona. You keep indulging onto Karina’s scrumptious lips, hands groping her voluptuous tits and caressing them until she pulls out, a moan escaping her mouth before she remarks, “Let her be, babe.”

You groan with the sensitivity, but if it’s Winter practically begging for your length to be tasted then you would comply with her needs. “I didn't say like I won't let her do it.”

You keep playing with Karina’s mounds, earning the faintest yet hottest moans imaginable and with the given signal, Winter indulges again, shifting her body just to be at the edge of the bed, facing your cock. She does her job, flicking her tongue and taking you halfway and with the warmth she brings, you moan in unison with Karina’s.

“Take off this bra, Rina—want to see your fucking tits.”

Karina laughs, knowing how it’s such a ubiquitous move to say those words so aggressively. “Then do it—ahh, no one’s stopping you.”

You grit your teeth, drooling with the sight of her bare tits palmed against your hand, cupping and squeezing them like those are your favorite stress balls—probably the best in the table, unbeatable and in its own league. With a swift motion, you unclasped her bra, legs shuddering a little because of Winter’s audacious pace and it’s such a great addition. You’re instantly met with her taut nipples, probably feeling the breeze the room emanates as all of your hotness rivals it. Free of its frustrating restraints, you admire every inch of it, feeling it as Karina moans with your advancements.

“Keep playing with my tits, babe—fuck, so good!” Her conspicuous amusement fuels you, and you stimulate her more with a tight pinch on her taut buds, earning more sultry moans leaving her lips. Winter just keeps the pace moderate, running her tongue all around your still throbbing length, savoring every inch and humming onto its succulence.

Every second that probably happens in this room is just sinful, and it’s mesmerizing how the three of you are managing to be incredibly consistent with it. Winter’s constant bobbing alleviates the sensitivity, now translating onto pleasure as you continue playing on her mouthwatering mounds, but before you continue, Karina has an idea on her mind.

“You can actually j-just—fuck, that’s great—uhm, fuck my breasts with that cock of yours.”

That’s an idea. Possibly enlightening and tempting, but you’re not the only one with a trick up your sleeve, and let herself know that yours is loose and copious.

“No, Rina—join Winter, on your knees.” Karina’s face paints another visible surprise, and Winter stops and withdraws with a loud pop.

“Well, I can’t turn that down.” Karina then cups your balls, fondling with the slightest of efforts and she knows that the three of you aren’t done yet. “Your balls are still pretty full, too. We’ll stop until they’re fully drained and sore.”

Karina kneels before uttering another set of words that made your length inevitably throb. “Fuck my tits when you’re about to finish.”

That, you’ll wholeheartedly do. The sight is just genuinely impure, Karina kneels down alongside Winter, and gets onto work without any hesitations. They face your purplish crown, and suckled onto it vigorously and with passion laced in every second they do such sin.

There weren’t any introductions for you to keep yourself accustomed to them nor any teasing, and immediately, Winter peppers your shaft with kisses up to the base, and Karina immediately latches her tongue to paint her own drool all over your engorged tip, marking her territory. They’re filthy with each second the counts, bringing up an undistinguishable mess on your shaft and with their hunger for your length, it’s clearly shown how diligent their movements are.

“S-Shit—you two, oh god…” Moans are erratic, breaths are ragged as their oral expertise is clearly displayed, making you feel such stimulation that’s making you feel the utmost gratification. Karina’s tongue kept dancing onto your head, moving on to move deeper whilst Winter averted her attention to your balls, sucking on each one with care and utter depravity.

You just know, that’s you at the top of the world right now and that’s what really matters—it’s stated as a fact with the given sight of these two phantasmagoric girls worshiping your length and need with their actions involving lust. You kept moaning their names, hands caressing and playing with their hair as Karina eventually pulled out, mouthing her satisfaction with the sight.

“Who would have thought this would be fun, hm?”

“Literally all of us, Rina—shit, keep doing that Winter.” You’re not wrong and hers is a rhetorical question. It doesn’t matter at this point, not when your brain is clouded with their dexterous fingers and their talented mouths pleasuring you in the filthiest ways imaginable. Winter strokes your base, hand gripping your thighs as she now takes your length, and Karina makes herself occupied onto sucking those swollen balls of yours.

It’s alternating between who’ll take you and it’s commendable how they manage to choreograph the flow of their oral assault to you with their minds poisoned with their own hunger for your cock. Winter’s a given natural and Karina’s an experienced one, which just concludes to the fact that their dynamic is just the best in these situations—there are plenty of other things their dynamic is great at, yet this one, is off the charts.

The fire of lust in you sets ablaze, and you know something coming neat with the given warning. “You girls—I’m g-gonna fucking cum if you keep doing this.”

Miraculously, they aren’t as selfish as you thought they would be, instantly popping out of your nether region and with the given fate that’s written, it’s up for you to fulfill it. “Oh babe, you gotta fuck my tits first, remember?“

Of course you do, you’re even dying to feel those pillowy mounds wrapped around your length and feel its incredible warmth. “Like I would forget that, Rina.”

“God, you’re gonna finish on unnie’s tits, daddy?” It never fails to amaze you how the submissiveness of Winter makes you crumble down your defenses, ultimately being mellow with her with the lustful energy still permeating within you.

“Yes, Winter—I’m going to paint her tits pearly white, every inch, if possible.” Whenever it's possible, you’ll do it. You know it wouldn’t be such a copious amount of your load but you’re getting the job done, no matter what. Karina then looks up at you, with an intent on making fall down to her control as she raises her ass little, still kneeling and with her breasts aligned with your wet, throbbing cock, shs wouldn’t waste a single second enveloping you with her pillowy flesh.

It’s fucking euphoric how the heat of her mounds wraps around your length, just in the right of amount of tightness as she squeezes her tits with all her might and you gladly appreciate it. Winter then goes onto her back, her frame pressed against Karina’s back and starts helping to stimulate her, pinching her nipples and applying a pushing pressure to wrap you around like a fleshlight.

You move, dictate a pace and instantly groan with the sensitivity yet you don't care, because you’re dying to release everything you can onto a canyon of her cleavage. Thanks to the aided lubrication their mouths brang earlier, it wasn’t an issue elevating the pace, grasping her shoulders as you thrust in and out like it’s just her tight cunt all over again. Karina even moves herself in accordance to your pace, also desperate for another filthy load as she moans with Winter’s approaches, playing with her mounds and making her experience the same tempo of pleasure as you.

The crescendo hits, hitting the climax with such a tremendous pitch with Winter’s constant pinching, earning such a borderline scream from Karina that even pleads you for more.

“God, please, babe—your cock—so good around my tits, shit!”

You’re sweating, focused solely invested into achieving your own high as you bent your knees a little, gaining yourself leverage for a better pace. “These tits are fucking perfect around my cock, yes!”

It’s just another filthy picture imprinted into your brain, completely lost with her hypnotizing flesh gliding complimentary with your length as you could feel the euphoric experience on its near demise. Karina would even flick her tongue when your tip hit near her chin, shuddering with the flesh in contact with your leaking slit, even drawing near to your supposedly final piece of your own tale.

It’s told, etched onto the history books as Karina’s broken yet sultry voice invites you and immediately, it’s lured in.

You kept your wild pace on the run, even with the vicinity of her cleavage being painted white, even hitting her neck and making a mess all over her mound. Winter releases her grip onto Karina’s tits, and is flabbergasted with how filthy Karina has been—ruined and painted, just like her.

You withdraw when Karina releases her grip, her fingers tracing the cum you deposited onto her pristine skin and tasted it, still satisfied with the delectable taste it still has. “You never disappoint, babe.”

“You girls are insane.” A breath follows, exhausted with what the three of you have done as you can even see their chests heave because of being in the same boat as yours. You help Karina stand up, a little wobbly because of all that just happened as she glares at you and speaks up.

“You should have let me take off the heels—it’s uncomfortable as fuck.”

“Well, you even look hotter with it—maybe even made me cum harder.”

“Unnie’s right, daddy—you look hot with just your heels on.” Winter’s verdict strokes the ego out of you, cocking your head as you scoff with hubris.

“Fine—let’s just clean up, shall we?”

Karina invites of course and it’s just reasonable—the three of you are probably the filthiest people in this given time frame, and cleansing yourselves would be a great option.

Maybe it’s another “two birds with one stone” in the bathroom later but one thing is for sure, you definitely hit the birds precisely and you’ll cherish and be proud of it, of what you’ve probably become.

“I have an idea though…” Karina’s strained voice invites Winter and you, all ears with what in the roulette of filthiness she may say right after. “Come here, Winter.”

She is puzzled yet she anticipates what Karina may have in store for her and you took a seat, possibly expecting for her to put up a show for you to indulge on.

“What is it, unnie?”

“See the mess on my tits?” Winter answers audibly with a nod right after, expecting Winter’s ability to adapt in these situations is enough to connect the dots. “I assume what you want to do with it.”

Winter’s eyes shine, gleaming with lust as she feels shy knowing that what she has in mind is right. “Uhm, is it alright, unnie?”

“Yes, Winter—now say to him what you’re going to do.” Karina’s commands avert Winter’s eyes towards yours, and completely, you’re clearly interested how Winter will say such events that’s destined to unfold later, tilting your head and giving another green light.

“Go ahead, Winter—enlighten me.”

Winter clears her throat, eyes locked onto yours and lets herself be utterly vocal. “I’m assuming unnie wants me to clean your cum from her tits, am I right, daddy?”

The way Winter said it with sheer hesitance and as the cherry on top, laced with such innocence still baffles you—it felt like you heard something blasphemous but this is the reality of things now, and it’s clearly Winter becoming totally influenced and ruined by the both of you is just the beginning. You chuckle with her words, victorious with what you made her to be as you shake your head, pretending to be unaware of Karina’s whereabouts. “I don’t know, ask your unnie instead…”

Winter spans her attention to Karina, as Karina tilts her head and assures her. “Well, if so, it’s a yes and definitely, you’re right.”

Winter immediately flustered, cheeks emanating that rosy-pink hue as she went towards Karina, and with her power, she grabbed Winter by her wrists and mouthed the words of enchantment. “Go and clean me off, princess—show me what that tongue can do…”

Still with Karina’s authority, Winter whines and smiles at her, and her tongue slowly touches the tip of her mounds, still hesitant and Karina knows this, and she’ll do everything with her power to let Winter be a tool to achieve her wants, and Winter’s too, of course. “It’s just going to be the three of us knowing this mess, so go on princess—clean me off.”

Clean her off, that’s a must and it’s commanding.

There’s something whenever Karina asserts her dominance and control, and it’s just turning every button on you, with a flip of a switch. Her handling of Winter is something you wouldn’t expect, and the sight is just like candy to your eyes—addicting, each second savored as you find yourself indulging for more.

You marvel at Karina’s filthy artisticness, a clever mind with another purpose would be something that will leave you astonished at most times.

Winter’s tongue licks the vicinity of Karina’s cleavage, every drop wiped clean and onto her mouth as Karina interrupts and lets go of her grip. “Don’t swallow it, princess—not yet. I’ll do something with you.”

Winter hums in satisfaction, a reply that falls audible on Karina’s ears as a nod comes right after. When Winter feels like she’s done licking every inch clean, Karina cups her cheeks and tilts her chin, and those eyes of Winter glisten under Karina’s control. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

It boils down into madness, lips crashing against each other as Karina’s initiative was eager to be reciprocated by Winter. The exchange was hot and chaste, feeling every second too euphoric as they resonate sounds enough for you to taint your mind with. Karina slurps with Winter’s approaching control, tongue dancing all over hers as Karina pulls out, and they both look at each other’s eyes with such needy intent. “Now share that cum with me, princess.”

Winter does as what she’s told to, immediately deposits remnants of that prize of yours onto Karina’s mouth, slobbering all over it while still exchanging kisses onto Winter’s insatiable lips. It goes onto these thoughts on why Karina possibly loves indulging Winter on a hot kiss: firstly, it’s mostly reminding her how Winter’s mouth still resembles the taste of your cock, which clearly, she’s obsessed with; second, the heat of the moment was just skyrocketing, feeling Karina’s urge to let Winter know how good of a kisser she is let herself be known how capable she is with anything; and lastly, Karina’s addicted to the taste of your cum, a protein she probably wouldn’t refuse to not let her tongue taste it.

These are assumptions at your end, yet clearly, you know how those can hit the right boxes, with only a minuscule margin of error.

They continue with such ferocity, Karina’s hands find Winter’s tiny waist, pulling her deeper into the blissful trance as both of them get lost into the abyss of need. Winter finds Karina’s shoulders, caressing it as they indulge deeper and then eventually, they pull out with little oxygen left in their bodies to spare.

“God, you two are fucking hot doing that.” You let them know that, and they already did, just another ringing onto their ears.

“Well, I can’t help that our princess here taste so fucking good.”

Winter laughs faintly, shy as she manages to utter something unserious. “I bet you only wanted to kiss me because of daddy’s cum…”

You ride with the high, teasing Karina as she gives you that unimpressed look, and you know she’s also playing with you and chose to be alongside it. “Yah, you really tasted that good too, plus the fact that it’s his cum too, so yeah…”

You’d say this is the final chapter in today’s book, and you let them invite onto something that could cleanse themselves for such acts. “Now, for real girls, let’s clean up.”

You never knew if you could be mesmerized or disappointed by what Karina made you do but one thing’s for sure, you never regretted every second and possibly, even experience something like this more frequently. Every possible dynamic that happened was

“That sure made me know Winter more… and go even more than comfortable…”

#aespa smut #aespa x male reader #karina smut #karina x male reader #aespa karina smut #aespa karina x male reader #winter smut #winter x male reader #aespa winter smut #aespa winter x male reader

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homeslices · 1 month ago

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Husband! Kento x fem!reader

A/N: Sorry I dropped off the face of the Earth again lol. Also sorry if this isn’t amazing I’m a little rusty.

Pairings: Kento Nanami x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut

Mdni

Word Count: 600

Husband! Kento who absolutely adores when his wonderful wife brings his lunch to his office when he completely forgot it at home.

Husband! Kento who can’t help but give you a sweet kiss to show his appreciation, I mean you went all out of your way to bring it to him, why shouldn’t he make his thanks known?

Husband! Kento who turned that sweet kiss, into two, then into three, and that led to your current situation of being bent over his desk, paper scattered everywhere, and your very dear husband roughly fucking you from behind.

“Ken!” you squeal.

Kento’s body was almost crushing you, covering yours completely as his cock pistoned in and out of you so fast, you could barely comprehend anything other than the thought, the feeling of him.

His hand moved quickly, shoving his middle and ring fingers in your mouth effectively gagging you.

“Shhh sweetheart,” Kento's lips brush against your ear. “You have to be quiet or someone out there might hear.”

Your watery, unfocused eyes immediately travel towards the locked door, which was the only thing keeping what Kento and you were doing private. The thought of someone in your husbands’ office finding out about the two of you being intimate was terrifying, but at the same time you couldn’t help but clench around Kento.

His hips stutter and he couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan.

“You’d like that? You like the idea of someone out there knowing your being fucked dumb on your husbands cock?”

All you could do is desperately nod as the sound of skin slapping skin grows louder.

“What was that honey? I couldn’t hear you.”

A gagged “mhm” miraculously made it out of your lips, to which your husband only chuckled. Kentos hips roughly roll and you let out a choked moan as his hits that spongy spot inside.

“Is that the spot?”

The tip of his cock begins to brush against your g-spot over and over again. You claw at the edge of the desk barely able to hold yourself together as muffled whines make it past your husband's fingers.

At this point Kento gave up on keeping you quiet and decided to hold both of your hips tight enough that you’ll probably have bruises afterwards.

You were so close, writhing beneath Kento you could feel it building, and building, and finally, it snapped.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy and your jaw drops in a silent scream as you tighten around Kento’s cock, and when his hips stutter you knew that he was finished too.

Kento lets out a growl as he empties himself in you, slowing his movements as he pumped his release into you.

Your head felt light as you leisurely came back down from your orgasm and the feeling of Kentos lips pressing against the back of your neck made you shutter slightly.

“You alright sweetheart?”

His voice cuts through the now quiet office. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you try to formulate a response.

“Yeah,” voice horse, you take a moment to clear it. “Yeah I’m alright.”

Kento hums as he carefully reaches down and pulls up your panties, effectively trapping the cum that has started to drip out of your now drenched cunt.

You take a deep breath to finally stand up and fixing your clothes that had, in fact, gotten wrinkled during your activities. Your husband took the time to fix your hair while you did so and once you both finished, gave you another kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for lunch, my dear wife.”

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento smut #jjk kento #kento x y/n #kento x you #jujutsu kento #Kento

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dollishmehrayan · 1 month ago

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BATBOYS JEALOUSY HCS ── .✦

a/n: I just ate which like now my stomach hurts because I ate this spicy burger (10/10) and my stomach is hurting so let’s hope i don’t die from a burger😭 also request from anon (here) tysm!

(Tags: batboys when jealous of crush!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Internally Brooding, Externally Stoic: Bruce keeps a calm, composed exterior, but inside? Full-on brooding mode. He watches every move, his jaw clenching just slightly whenever the other guy laughs a little too much.

Passive-Aggressive Moves: Bruce subtly but effectively tries to interrupt. Maybe he’ll walk by and offer you something he never does, like coffee or water, just to make his presence known. “You looked thirsty,” he’ll say, while the guy looks confused.

Petty Rich Guy Move: He’ll ‘accidentally’ mention something about Wayne Enterprises, as if to remind everyone just how wealthy and powerful he is. “Funny, we were discussing corporate acquisitions the other day,” he’ll drop casually, as if it relates. (Let’s hope he doesn’t drain his bank 😞🙏)

The Comedy: When Alfred catches him glaring, he’ll dryly say, “Master Wayne, perhaps you should try blinking before you permanently furrow your brow.” Bruce will immediately deny he’s bothered, even as he side-eyes you again.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Charm Dial Up to 100: Dick doesn’t even try to hide his jealousy. He’ll swoop into the conversation, throwing in his most dazzling smile. “Hey, I didn’t realize we were letting random guys have all the fun,” he’ll say with a teasing grin, while subtly nudging the guy aside.

Over-the-Top Compliments: He’ll suddenly become your biggest hype-man. “You know, she’s literally the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful person in the room, right? No offense to you, man.” The other guy feels awkward, and you just laugh while Dick grins smugly.

Puppy Dog Eyes: If you keep talking to the other guy, Dick’s smile might falter just a little, and he’ll stand in the background, clearly pouting. It’s so obvious that even you can’t help but laugh.

The Comedy: He’ll mutter, “Didn’t even know jealousy could feel this personal,” under his breath while side-eyeing the guy like it’s a soap opera.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Trying to Play it Cool: Jason’s jealousy is obvious in how stiff and silent he gets. He leans against the nearest wall, arms crossed, glaring like the other guy just insulted his whole family.

Blunt Interruptions: He doesn’t have the patience to be subtle. He’ll walk up and ask, “So, who’s this?” in the least friendly tone possible, with a fake smile that could curdle milk.

Accidental Intimidation: Jason’s sheer presence is intimidating, so the poor guy talking to you will probably start feeling uncomfortable as Jason looms over, cracking his knuckles or adjusting his jacket dramatically.

The Comedy: If you don’t notice, Jason will mutter sarcastically, “Oh sure, talk to Captain Chit-Chat over there. Not like I’m standing right here or anything.” Roy, nearby, might add, “Jason, you’re doing that ‘death stare’ thing again,” and Jason will growl, “I’m not jealous.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward and Overthinking Everything: Tim doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s a mess. He watches from a distance, wringing his hands, thinking, Should I interrupt? Maybe she likes him? Maybe I’m reading too much into it…

Accidental Sulking: He tries to focus on something else, but his mind keeps wandering. He sits down nearby, pretending to work on his laptop, typing nonsense just so he can stay close without being obvious. “Haha, yeah…no big deal…” deletes everything he just typed.

Passive Observing: Tim eventually tries to casually stroll by, acting like he just happened to be there. “Oh, hey… didn’t see you there. Weird, right?” He’s so awkward it’s endearing.

The Comedy: If Kon or Bart sees him sulking, they’ll tease him mercilessly. “Dude, go talk to her.” Tim panics, “I can’t. She’s busy… laughing… with him…” Kon: “You’re hopeless.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Silent Judgment Mode: Damian watches with narrowed eyes, judging every aspect of the guy talking to you. He might even mutter things under his breath like, “He stands like a fool,” or “He can’t even articulate properly.”

Direct Interruption: Damian doesn’t have time for subtlety. He’ll walk up and flatly say, “Are you finished with this conversation? It’s becoming unbearable.” The other guy is usually too shocked to respond.

Unintentional Comedy: He’ll start critiquing the guy’s conversation topics. “She doesn’t care about your opinions on sports,” he’ll state matter-of-factly, as you try not to laugh.

The Comedy: If you ask if he’s jealous, he’ll scoff. “Jealous? Of that imbecile? Hardly.” But the tips of his ears are turning red, and you know he’s lying.

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svtiddiess · 2 months ago

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Sex Education

Synopsis: In all your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?

Pairing: loser!virgin!med student!Mingyu x afab!med student!reader

Genre: smut, slight crack, one shot, med school! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: pet names (puppy), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, size kink, choking, loss of virginity, sub!Gyu, big dick!Gyu, loser!Gyu, riding, masturbation, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Thank you so much for helping me with the synopsis my twin @tomodachiii! As promised, here's sub!Gyu.

Thank you so much to @onlymingyus for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Mingyu.

That's the only thing on your mind right now—nothing else, just Mingyu. You should probably be paying attention to the lesson, but how could you, with the hot nerd sitting right within your line of sight? Okay, maybe you chose this seat specifically so you could look at him without getting caught, but still! He’s a distraction you’re more than happy to have.

You rest your chin in your hand, sighing as your eyes trace over his figure. He’s built like a Greek god—strong, tall, with perfectly styled black hair, and his large square glasses barely hide his handsome, tan face. Oh, what you’d give just to see him without those glasses on.

You’ve known Mingyu since middle school. You never really interacted, but you definitely noticed him around. Back in school, he was known as the nerdy kid with glasses and a scrawny, lanky frame to match. Shy and awkward, he was an easy target for bullies. But over the years, his muscle mass increased, and his frame filled out. It seems he’s been putting in serious hours at the gym, and it’s definitely paid off.

Although he’s the most handsome guy in med school, he’s still incredibly shy and reserved, keeping his circle small and close-knit. Despite numerous people, especially girls, trying to get closer to him, he just pushes them away. That’s why, despite your massive crush, you haven’t made a move. You’re too scared he’ll shut you out and avoid you for good.

You can't help but bite your bottom lip and squeeze your thighs together as you rake your eyes over his bulging biceps, his shirt barely able to contain the muscle. Just one chokehold; one chokehold is all you're asking for, really. You sigh once again, knowing that you'll never be able to have him.

Your train of unholy thoughts is abruptly interrupted by the sound of your professor calling your name. Startled, you sit up and look towards him.

"Miss Y/N, are you even paying attention?" Prof. Choi huffs, crossing his arms.

"Of course I am, professor," you reply, flashing the sweetest smile you can manage.

"Then, for the third time, please answer the question on the board," he says, gesturing to the problem.

"Uh…" you trail off, completely lost.

Prof. Choi sighs and tells you to see him after class, to which you reluctantly agree. You sink into your chair, dreading what’s to come. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh and shifted your gaze back to Mingyu, watching in awe as he effortlessly answered the very question you stumbled over. Tall, muscular, hot, and smart—he really is the perfect guy.

You grumble as Prof. Choi calls your name, sabotaging your plan to slip out of class. Sighing, you drag yourself over to his desk, only to be surprised when Mingyu joins you. You glance between Mingyu and Prof. Choi, waiting for an explanation.

"Y/N, I’ll get straight to the point—you’re failing this class," Prof. Choi says. "At this rate, I’m not sure you'll be able to move on to the next year."

Well, it’s not your fault that a hot distraction named Kim Mingyu exists.

"That’s why I’ve assigned Mingyu here as your tutor to help you pass," he says, nodding toward Mingyu.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to suppress a smile. Mingyu tutoring you? Spending time alone with him? This feels like a dream come true. You silently thank both Prof. Choi and the heavens for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Mingyu gives you a shy smile. "I hope we can get along well," he says, extending his hand.

You gratefully take it, noticing the blush coloring his cheeks.

"Please take good care of me, Mingyu," you say, beaming, already looking forward to your tutoring sessions.

You smooth out your skirt one last time before opening the door for Mingyu. You made sure to wear your sluttiest outfit today. After insisting that your brain works better when you study in your room, Mingyu shyly agreed to hold the tutoring sessions there.

You smile and step aside to let him in, watching as he sheepishly steps into your house. Making sure your ass is sticking out, you made him follow you upstairs to your room.

You sat down on your bed, subtly raising your skirt, and gestured for Mingyu to take a seat next to you. He awkwardly took his seat and started pulling out his notes.

He keeps his eyes on his notes as he starts explaining today’s lesson—something about the Krebs cycle, though you’re not really listening. You’re too busy admiring his handsome face. You twirl a strand of hair and blink sweetly as you ask (hopefully relevant) questions, but he barely glances at you while answering.

After what feels like hours of studying (it’s been 30 minutes), you whine and beg him for a break, and he blushes as he agrees.

"Would you like some snacks? Or maybe water or juice?" you ask, perking up.

"Just a glass of water is fine," he mumbles, still focused on his notes.

You nod and grab a glass of water for him and a snack for yourself. Returning, you hand him the water with a smile, which he accepts with a quiet “thank you,” while you peel your banana for your snack.

You lick the tip of the banana before biting down on it, smirking when you see Mingyu gulping at your actions. Noticing you looking at him, he blushes and quickly averts his gaze.

"Want a bite?" You offer him with a sultry smirk.

"N-No, thank you," he mumbles, his ears turning red.

You giggle as you finish your banana and scoot a little closer, prompting him to continue the lesson. But he’s a stuttering mess, tripping over his words and repeatedly asking for more water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

After stuttering his way through, Mingyu finally managed to finish the lesson. Sore from having hunched over, you stretch, not so subtly pressing your chest against his arm. Mingyu flushes, quickly gathering his notes and mumbling something about being late for a gaming session with Wonwoo.

You see him out, throwing in a wink and waving goodbye. You watch as he stumbles a bit while getting onto his Vespa and driving off. Chuckling to yourself, you can't help but smile at how cute he is.

The rest of the tutoring sessions go the same way: you not-so-subtly flirt with Mingyu, while he either purposely ignores it or remains completely oblivious. You even try to out-slut your outfits with every tutoring session, but nothing seems to work.

One night, after yet another session, you lie in bed, frustrated that Mingyu isn’t picking up on your very obvious hints. Who knew the loser nerd would actually turn out to be a huge loser? You sigh, but him being a huge loser is what you find most endearing about him.

You bite your lip, remembering what he wore today—a black polo that stretched perfectly over his muscles, jeans that hugged his thighs just right, and of course, those thick black frames.

You can't help but sneak your hand down your torso as you remember how his arm felt pressed against your boobs. They felt so strong and firm, you bet that he could easily carry you and fuck you mid-air.

You shiver as your hand sneaks under your panties. You circle your pussy, collecting your arousal before pushing a finger into your hole, sighing at the slight stretch. You moan at the thought of Mingyu's fingers being way bigger than yours. His fingers would stretch you out so well before he finally fucks you with his huge cock.

You insert another finger and start thrusting your fingers, moaning out Mingyu's name. You imagine him hovering over you as he relentlessly thrusts into you, groaning your name right beside your ear. He'd growl as your fingers rake his back, leaving angry red marks. You'd wrap your legs around his hips and push him in deeper, making him breed you.

Your other hand circles your clit as you feel yourself getting to the edge. You imagine him thrusting from behind as his large bicep chokes you, putting just enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. He'd whimper and moan in your ear, letting you know how good you feel wrapped around him. He'd fill you up with his cum, again and again, and again, until the sheets underneath you are soaked with your mixed fluids.

Your breath hitches as you cum, whispering his name like a prayer, hoping that if you say it enough times, he’ll appear before you and make your dreams come true.

But he doesn't, and you're left lying in bed, sticky, sweaty, and alone.

You yawn for the umpteenth time as Mingyu drones on about anatomy; you're sure your brain has shut down by now. You sigh as you lean back onto the bed, too tired even to sit up.

"Mingyu, can we please take a break? I don't think my brain can take any more of this," you groan, resting your arm over your eyes.

"U-Uh, yeah, sure," Mingyu mumbles, fiddling with his notes. "We could always switch to a different topic if you want a change of pace…"

"What's the next topic?"

"The reproductive system."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk paints your face as an idea pops into your head. You sit up and grin at Mingyu.

"Sure, let's learn about the reproductive system."

Happy that you're finally interested in a topic, Mingyu gathers his notes and starts to explain. After about 15 minutes of explanation, you put your hand over his and gently push away his notes.

"Mingyu, I don’t understand the topic at all," you say with a pout, shifting to sit directly in front of him. His face turns bright red, clearly flustered. "I think it would help if we put the theory into practice so I can learn better," you purr.

Mingyu stumbles over his words, stuttering, his brain clearly short-circuiting. You giggle at his flustered state and shift to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of him.

"Will you let me use you to put the theory into practice, Mingyu?" you ask, tilting your head with a pout as you gently cup his face.

"I-I’m not sure h-how…" Mingyu stammers, swallowing hard.

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo. "It's okay, I'll guide you, puppy. Will you let me?"

He licks his lips and lets out a shaky breath before giving a small nod.

"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to take good care of you," you hum as you gently remove his glasses.

He blinks and looks up at you, lips parted and cheeks flushed. You take a moment to admire his handsome face without the glasses. Cupping his face, your eyes trace over his features—his strong jawline, his parted lips, and the small mole on the tip of his nose. Unable to resist, you lean in and place a gentle kiss there, making him shiver.

"Can I kiss you, puppy?" You whisper.

"P-Please," he whimpers, and you can't help but smile over how pathetic he sounds.

You lean in and press your lips against his, and he kisses back desperately, hungry for your lips. You chuckle into the kiss, his inexperience showing with every hesitant movement. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing your lips and letting out a soft whine when you don’t return the kiss.

"Puppy, if you don't behave, I will punish you," you scowl, furrowing your eyebrows.

"'m sorry," he mumbles with a pout.

You plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then slowly run your hands down his torso, gently squeezing each muscle through his white polo. He moans and shivers under your touch, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Puppy works hard in the gym, hm?" You giggle, squeezing his chest slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from him.

You giggle, then start slowly dragging your hands to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

"God, your arms are so big and strong," you moan, squeezing him hard. "I want you to choke me, puppy. Can you do that for me? Choke me with your biceps?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. You shift, pressing your back against his chest. He gently puts you into a chokehold and squeezes his arm slightly. Your eyes roll back, and a moan slips from your lips when you feel his biceps push against your throat.

You can't help but feel small in Mingyu's hold; he's just so big and beefy. You grind your hips against him, and you feel his grip faltering. He whimpers and pushes his erection against your butt.

"P-Please, I can't. I-It hurts," he whimpers against your ear.

You sneak down your hand and palm him through his jeans, making him groan and buck your hips against your palm.

"Need me to take care of your problem puppy?" You giggle, palming him roughly.

"Please," he strains out, choking back a moan.

He releases you from the chokehold, and you quickly clamber over to grab the bottle of lube you've stashed on the side table. You look over to see that he's already pushed his jeans and boxers down and freed his aching cock.

"Impatient are we now, puppy?" You chuckle, making his cheeks heat up.

Locking eyes with him, you give him a sultry look as you slowly peel off your panties but keep your skirt on. He gulps hard, shifting in place, anticipating your next move.

Biting your lip, you slowly crawl back over to him. You pour lube all over his cock and give him a few pumps, he whines your name and bucks his hips, making you giggle.

"Gonna make you feel so good, puppy," you whisper as you shift to hover over him.

You grab onto his shoulders and slowly sink onto his big cock, the stretch making you moan out loud. Mingyu whines and groans under you, his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into you.

"F-Fuck," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth slowly envelopes him.

Your mouth goes agape, and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

"M-Move, please move. I-I can't," he begs, muscles straining under you.

You slowly lift yourself and slam back down onto him, making the both of you moan out loud. Slowly picking up your pace, you start riding him. He becomes a blubbering mess under you, moaning your name and whining at how good it feels.

"Look at the mess we're making, puppy," you pant out, lifting your skirt and showing him the sticky mess forming at the base of his cock.

He looks down at where both of you are connected and moans. He starts picking you up and slamming you down at an animalistic pace, his hips meeting you halfway. You squeal at the feeling of him rutting into you.

Unable to hold back any longer, he cums hard, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. Desperate to reach your high, you continue to ride him despite his chokes and whimpers. You capture his lips into a messy kiss to distract him from the overstimulation.

"C-Circle my clit," you mumble in between the kiss, and he complies, his hand immediately sneaking down and rubbing your clit in circles.

You yell his name as you cum around him, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Mingyu moans, and a few tears slip from his eyes at the feeling of you squeezing him with a vice-like grip.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, your head resting on Mingyu’s shoulder as he leans back against the headboard. Licking your lips, you cup his face and look into his dazed eyes.

"You did so well, puppy," you coo, watching him blush and give you a fucked-out smile.

"But I don't think I've fully understood the topic yet. Maybe we should go over it again, just to be sure," you say before smashing your lips on his again.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @toplinehyunjin

1K notes · View notes

niningtori · 3 months ago

Text

an iron man | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.

genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu

word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)

notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent for the highest bidder of the night.

he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.

it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.

“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what… ?

he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.

“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.

“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously,

“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.

“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.

“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?

“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.

“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.

“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.

genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.

he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.

it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.

“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.

“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.

“yes,” he feebly answers.

“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.

“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.

“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”

“... no,” he replies after a pause.

“then why can you?”

“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.

“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.

“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.

he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.

“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.

“good morning,” he replies.

“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.

“... yes,” he lies.

“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”

“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.

“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.

things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.

“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.

“y-yeah,” he replies.

“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.

“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.

“... good—” and the man switches him off.

the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.

“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.

“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.

“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.

“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.

“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.

“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”

“‘m fine,” he replies.

“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”

“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.

“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”

when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.

“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.

he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.

“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?

“s-sorry, i —”

“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.

you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.

it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.

the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.

“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.

“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.

“don’t understand what?”

“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.

“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.

“even if they’re that different?”

“of course.”

beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.

one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.

“can i ask you something?”

“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.

“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.

“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.

“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?

the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.

still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.

“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”

“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.

“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.

and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.

as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.

“let me do it,” he says.

“do you know how?”

“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.

“... okay.”

you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.

but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.

“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.

“beoms?”

“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.

“you do?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.

“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.

“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.

“oh,” is all he can say.

days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.

he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.

“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.

“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.

“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”

“soobin’s?”

“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.

“you’re staying the night with him?”

“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.

“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.

but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:

"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you

but now i don’t care

i could go anywhere with you

and i’d probably be happy"

he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.

yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.

and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.

he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.

“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.

“mhm,” he replies.

“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.

“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.

“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.

“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.

you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.

he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.

“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.

eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.

immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.

soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.

“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.

“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.

“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”

“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.

“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”

you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.

“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.

“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.

“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”

“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.

“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.

“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks.

“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.

“wait! i think you should —”

“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.

when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.

“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.

“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.

“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.

“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.

gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.

“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.

“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.

“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.

“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.

“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.

“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.

“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”

“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.

he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.

after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.

“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?

“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.

“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.

“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”

“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.

“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.

work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.

you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.

when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.

so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.

“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.

after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.

“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.

“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.

“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.

“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.

“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.

“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.

that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.

“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”

“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.

“are you sure?” you ask.

“i’m sure.”

it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.

the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.

“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.

“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”

“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.

“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.

“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.

“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.

“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.

“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”

“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”

“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.

“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”

“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.

sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.

soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.

when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.

“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.

“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.

“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.

“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.

everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.

clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.

you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.

he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.

soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.

soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.

“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.

“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.

“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.

before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.

“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.

“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.

“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.

“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.

“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.

“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.

“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.

that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.

as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.

soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home

you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?

you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.

“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.

“we have to talk about beomgyu.”

“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.

“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.

“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.

“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”

“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”

“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”

“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”

“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?

“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.

“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.

“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.

“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.

you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”

“w-what? no, i —”

“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”

“beomgyu.”

“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.

“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”

“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.

“beoms?” you carefully try.

“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.

“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.

the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.

you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?

your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.

“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.

“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.

“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”

“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.

“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.

“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.

“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.

“and what about me?”

“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”

“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.

“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”

“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.

“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.

you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.

“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.

you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.

“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.

you pause before you tell him:

“i love you, too, beoms.”

that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:

“to die by your side

is such a heavenly way to die

to die by your side, well

the pleasure, the privilege is mine”

notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!

you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.

you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.

you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.

you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.

his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.

your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.

“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.

“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.

you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.

the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.

when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.

“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.

“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.

“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.

“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.

“oh, baby, why?” you ask.

“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”

“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.

“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”

“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.

“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.

“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.

“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.

you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.

“better?” you question.

“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.

“better?” you ask again.

“m-more,” he pants.

“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.

you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.

“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.

you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.

“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.

“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.

“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.

his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.

you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.

he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.

“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.

eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.

“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.

“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.

“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”

“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.

“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.

“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.

“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.

“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.

“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.

“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.

“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.

“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”

“w-what do you —”

and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.

“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.

“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.

“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.

“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”

“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.

“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.

“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.

“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.

the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.

“does it feel good, beoms?”

“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.

“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.

he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.

“gonna come!” you whine.

“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.

“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.

“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.

you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.

notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry

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headkiss · 5 months ago

Text

fall right into me

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when something happens to your apartment and you need a place to stay, steve, your best friend, is quick to provide it for you. your prolonged proximity forces you both to realize some things.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: childhood bffs to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mentions of a negative relationship with parents, probably inaccurate descriptions of some things but it’s (say it with me) for the plot!!!

a/n: i know it’s been a LONG time since i’ve posted a long fic so thank u guys for ur patience <3 i had so much fun getting back to it and writing these two, and i hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait!!! ily :,)

𝜗𝜚

Your shoes are still wet as you dial the first number that comes to mind: Steve’s.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hi,” you can imagine him on the other side of the phone, leaning casually against the wall, an easy smile on his face, “what’s going on?”

You’re not quite sure where to start.

Coming home from work earlier, you’d been excited to shower and change and lay around for the rest of the evening, your book hanging open in your lap and some mindless TV filling the silence.

The day seemed to have other plans for you, though, because as you walked down the stairs to your apartment—one in the basement of a sweet, older couple’s house who just never used the space and converted it—the carpet had made an ugly squelch as soon as you stepped on it.

You looked down at your shoe against the carpet, at the way its color was darker than usual from whatever water had gotten into it. Looking up, you found a complete mess. A piece of the ceiling hanging open right above your bed, water still dripping in steady drops from the gap, your bedding ruined among many other things.

You don’t know how long you stood there, hand over your mouth, eyes flickering over the damage like you were hoping it would vanish, like it was only something you imagined.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

The couple who owns the house came down when they heard you shout for them, unsure of what else to do. They’d both gasped when they came down, and began apologizing for something that really wasn’t their fault before one ran up to call whoever it was they needed to call to fix this and the other comforted you with a gentle “we’ll take care of it, sweetie.”

You nodded, eyes still roaming your space that was now uninhabitable.

It’s an old house, something was bound to happen at some point, you only wished it wasn’t so inconvenient for you. A small leak, you could have handled, but the ceiling practically caving in?

Yeah, it was a complete fucking mess.

Hours later, with the damage assessed and set to take a few weeks to fix up, you’re on the phone with the one person you’d known would pick up.

You fill Steve in on what happened, and his first response is a sigh of, “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” you agree. “And now I’m gonna have to live with my parents for a while and I don’t know how I’m gonna go back into that house, Steve.”

If you’re being honest, the couple you live with now was kinder to you than your parents were. You suppose that’s one of the many things that you and Steve have bonded over.

“Just come live with me, instead,” he offers without hesitation.

Steve says it like it’s obvious, a no-brainer, and you guess it should be, since you’ve slept over at the Harrington’s house countless times before. Only, this is different because you’d be staying for a while, because you’d be needing his help, which makes you feel all awkward and guilty.

He’s been your absolute best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’re one hundred percent sure you’d offer the same thing if the roles were reversed, but that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept, not when you’re already frazzled from the events of the day.

“No, Steve, I’m sorry I’m just being dramatic,” you say, twisting the phone’s cord around your finger. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a month, or so, and I don’t wanna be in your way or-”

“When have you ever cared about being in my way, angel?” The pet name he’s called you ever since your ninth grade Halloween party slips out naturally, the way it always does. “Besides, this house is too fucking big for me as it is, and you know my parents won’t be around to care, either.”

“I can’t ask you to let me move in, Steve.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering. It’ll be like that one week when we were twelve and you stayed over for spring break, only longer. It’s perfect!”

There’s a small smile ghosting across your face as you recall the memory he’s talking about. A blanket fort in their spacious living room, sleeping bags and pillows piled inside it along with two flashlights.

You can picture the way he looks on the other end of the phone, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it during the day, one strand rogue against his forehead, his shoulder leaned carelessly against the wall the way it usually is when he stands. Like he can’t be bothered to hold himself up, like there’s constantly a weight on him.

“Are you sure about this, Steve? It’s really okay if you’re not. I swear I’ll be fine.”

“As if I’m letting you spend multiple weeks back in your parent’s house. You’re staying with me, alright?” His voice is insistent, yet kind, letting you know that he’s being honest, that he means it. “We’ll order pizzas and watch shitty romcoms, ‘kay?”

“You can call romcoms shitty all you want, but we both know you get teary at every single one.”

“Don't change the subject, angel. Also, fuck off,” he says, though you can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you’re living with me, yeah?”

You don’t think you could say no to him even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, alright, Steve. Thank you so much.”

“None of that. I know you’d do the same.”

There’s something beautiful about the kind of trust and ease that comes with a friendship as long as yours. One where you’ve watched each other grow up, awkward phases and all, and stuck together the entire way. There’s no questioning whether or not you’d be there for each other if you were in need.

It’s known, felt. Like a fact.

“Now,” he continues, “I’ll pick you up, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay.”

“You need me to bring boxes for your stuff?”

“I’m not sure how much is worth keeping. It’s pretty ugly in there.”

Your voice goes small at the end, because the gravity of it all is really sinking in. You’ll have to replace a lot of stuff. Stuff you don’t have money for right now.

But, you haven’t let yourself cry just yet, so you swallow it down.

“I’ll bring some anyway, then. We’ll figure it out, angel, don’t worry.”

“Thanks again, Steve. See you soon.”

“Ten minutes,” he assures you, then the line clicks.

True to his word, Steve arrives in under ten minutes, which isn’t surprising considering the size of Hawkins, but feels reassuring all the same.

You’re sitting on the curb in front of the house when Steve’s BMW pulls over on the other side of the road, and you stand just as he climbs out and shuts his door, rounding the car and jogging over to you.

His keys jingle as he tucks them into the pocket of his faded jeans, his opposite hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder, “You okay?”

The warmth of his palm seeps through your work shirt that you’ve yet to change out of, and you let your eyes fall shut just for a second before looking at his face, “Guess so,” you nod. “Maybe ask me again after all of this?”

Steve’s arm winds itself over your shoulders, tugging you into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of your head, simple as an instinct. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, angel.”

We’ll, he says. A team.

You reach up and squeeze his hand and nod, guiding him to the side-entrance leading to your basement apartment.

“I hope you didn’t wear your good shoes for this,” you say.

Steve looks down at his feet and shrugs, “Shoes can be replaced.”

He lets you lead the way down the stairs, his footsteps close behind yours. You wince when you look at the damage again, even though you’d seen it minutes ago. You can't bring yourself to look at Steve, to see the reaction on his face, because you think it’ll just make it all more real.

He mouths the word ‘fuck’ while you aren’t looking, then claps his hands once. “Okay, let’s figure out what we can save, yeah? Where do you want me?”

You’re grateful for his gentle guidance at what to do. “Maybe the bathroom? Everything in there should be fine, so it just needs to be packed.”

“‘Kay. I’ll just go grab some boxes from my car,” Steve says. He squeezes your hand once before heading up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You decide to tackle the worst spot first. Though the place is more like a studio, the side that houses your bed and your closet is the most affected, so you head over there and try to tune out the squish of the carpet beneath your feet.

You’re opening the sliding doors to your closet when Steve comes back, dropping a stack of boxes by your feet and running his hand down your arm softly before heading over to the bathroom to pack for you.

Even his presence seems to be making things a little bit easier for you, and each time he finds a small way to touch you or speak to you, to remind you that he’s there, you’re glad for it.

Half of your closet is a gross, wet mess, but some things are salvageable, which you take as a win. Things might be damp, but at least it’s only water, you suppose. A cycle in the dryer and most things will be wearable again.

Your dresses that are hung get the worst of it, soaked and smelly, and you decide that it’d be easier to get a couple new ones than to try and save what’s there.

Steve checks in every now and then, poking his head out of the bathroom’s doorway to look at you and make sure you’re doing alright, giving you a thumbs up when you look over to him.

You’re not sure how you’d be managing this if you were alone, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to.

The next time he checks on you, you’re by your nightstand.

Sitting atop of it is a framed picture of you and Steve from summer camp when you were around ten years old, maybe younger. Only now, the picture’s stained with water and the frame you’d decorated all those years ago at camp is a splotchy mess.

Where yours and Steve’s handwriting used to be, is now a blur from the water seeping into the wooden frame, the marker’s colors muddy. You frown, picking it up and running your thumb over the edge.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re tearing up, frustrated and sad and tired. Memories like this one are the most special to you, the ones that have kept you going for so long, and just like that, the picture that’s sat on your nightstand since being taken is gone, and it fucking sucks.

“Hey, angel?” Steve calls.

When all you do is sniffle and mumble an “mhm?” in response, he sets the box he’d been packing on the bathroom counter and walks over to you.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your upper-arms and peering over your shoulder at the ruined picture.

“It was my favorite one,” you say, voice breaking a little. You wipe your tear away as it trails down your cheek, your own fingertips too harsh against your skin.

Although it’s soaked and splotchy now, Steve knows which picture it is. The one where you’ve both got your neon summer camp t-shirts on, the one where his cheeks and nose are completely sunburnt and you’re both grinning up at the camera from your seats on the ground.

Steve’s clutching a stick in his hand for some reason, and you’ve got your fist tangled in the sleeve of his shirt.

It feels like no time and forever has passed since then.

Steve grabs the picture and pries it gently from your hands, setting it back onto the table and turning you around in his grip to face him.

“We can fix it,” he tells you, his brown eyes all soft as his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping your tears away.

“But the frame-”

“We’ll fix it, angel. I’ll find a way, okay? We can pack it in one of the boxes and figure it out.”

“Steve-”

“Look at me,” he urges you when your gaze flickers to the ground. You listen. “This fucking sucks, I know it does, but you’re strong and I’m here, and we can handle this.”

His voice is quiet, but sure. You search his face for any trace of a lie and find none. He really believes what he’s saying, and he really believes in you.

“Thank you for being here.” You take a deep breath and drop your forehead against the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry for crying. I know it’s kinda stupid. Most of this is replaceable, it’s just-”

“It’s not stupid,” he says, letting his chin rest atop your head. “You’re allowed to cry. Hell, I’d probably be kicking and screaming on the floor like I'm back in the terrible twos.”

You laugh wetly into his shirt.

“Now,” he says, pulling back and putting his hands on his hips, “the quicker we pack, the quicker we go home. I’ll even let you wear a pair of my good fuzzy socks.”

A smile tugs at your mouth. “Deal.”

Steve wouldn’t let you do much of the work after that.

Instead, he simply held up items for you to assess from where you’d been leaning against the wall and packed it into a box if it was a ‘yes,’ or tossing it aside dramatically just to try and get you to laugh if it was a ‘no.’

Once things were sorted through and packed, you loaded everything into Steve’s car—which wasn’t a whole bunch, considering how much you had to leave behind.

You’d refused to let Steve carry the boxes all on his own, though he tried, but he still managed to open the doors for you whenever you made it to his car, even when his own hands were full, too.

By the time you were finished, you were drained. It felt like you’d lived multiple days in the one. An eight hour shift opening at the store, then coming home to a wrecked apartment. All you wanted to do was shower and lay down and not get back up.

Steve knows you well enough to be able to tell when it’s time to fill the silence and when it isn’t, and on the drive back to his place, while your head was leaned against his window, he knew to stay quiet and give you a bit of space.

He turned the radio on, but not too loud, letting the songs hum through the speakers. At every stop sign, he reached over and gave your thigh a light squeeze. Reassuring, kind, somehow exactly what you needed at the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

You were no stranger to the Harrington’s house, having been there countless times since you were little, but it feels more intimidating now, knowing you’ll be staying. You feel silly for being worried, but you are. Asking for help makes you feel like a burden.

Steve, however, doesn’t let you entertain that thought for long, parking in his driveway and jogging around to open the passenger door for you. “Honey, we’re home!”

“Dork,” you say, though you accept his hand and let him tug you up out of the car.

Grabbing the first couple of boxes, Steve leads you inside and upstairs, right to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom. The closest one to him.

The house has at least two guest rooms, though you suppose with how little Steve's parents are around, you could consider there to be three. Three spare rooms and Steve puts you up in the nearest one possible. It makes your heart squish in your chest, how caring he is. He doesn’t even have to try, really, the goodness in him shows even when he tries to keep it hidden.

It only takes a few trips down to his car and back before all of your boxes are stacked against the wall. You decide you’ll deal with them later.

Steve runs over to his room and grabs a set of pajamas that you’d left there, and hands them to you. “I figured you’d wanna wash up.”

“You calling me smelly, Harrington?”

“Shut up, I think you smell nice. Usually.”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing, angel.” He ruffles your hair. You swat his hand away. “You know where the bathroom is, and there should be soap and stuff in the shower already. Just yell if you need something, okay?”

You do know where the bathroom is. You have your own toothbrush in a cup by the sink, a set of travel-sized skin care products in the cupboard behind the mirror for whenever you end up staying over.

It’s funny, you’ve always felt more at home here than at your own parents house, and though he hasn’t said it to you, Steve much prefers this house when you’re in it. There’s a warmth that comes with your presence that makes him ache when it’s not around.

You nod, “Thank you again for letting me stay, Steve. I won’t be in the way, promise.”

“I want you in the way. You know you’re always welcome. This is no different.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’ll be nice having you around. Place always feels so empty when it’s just me.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay forever, then,” you say, tone light and joking.

Steve, completely serious, says, “I’d let you.”

There’s a zip that goes through you when he says it, quick as lightning, something you’ve never felt—or noticed, rather—around him. It throws you off just a little.

“Anyways,” Steve cuts your thoughts short, “I’ll let you get settled. Pizza will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He leaves the room before you can thank him again, his footsteps retreating and heading downstairs.

You’ve been to his house a million times, so you don’t really feel the need to ‘get settled’ but you desperately need a shower so that’s where you go.

You stay in for longer than you need to, letting the too-hot water run down your neck and back.

When you finally do step out of the bathroom, now clad in your pajamas, and head downstairs, Steve’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the romcoms he owns sitting out in front of the TV for you to choose from, your favorite blanket resting on your side of the couch, and pizza boxes on the coffee table just as promised.

It’s the best thing in the world, you think, to have a friend like Steve.

You’ve been staying at Steve’s for a couple of days already, and time seems to fly by a little quicker when you’re there, especially when you’re around him.

He’s taken it upon himself to have coffee ready in the pot for you every morning, one of your favorite mugs already next to it on the counter. You’ve cooked breakfasts together (pancakes one day, where you’d done most of the work, or something simple as toast when you both have to get to work), ordered dinners, and Steve comes home from his shifts with a new movie to watch almost every day.

It’s been so nice. Almost perfect, actually.

This morning, the first day where your shifts happen to be at the exact same time, he’d even insisted on driving you to work. It was an easy yes, considering it wasn’t out of his way at all.

After a short stint of working together at the grocery store in ninth grade, and your subsequent firing from the job after a month of constantly distracting each other on the clock, Tim, the grocery manager, took it upon himself to warn Hawkins not to hire the both of you together.

Eventually, you’d taken the closest you could get which resulted in you working at the arcade and Steve next door at Family Video.

You share a parking lot. Steve already drives you to work most days. You like to put up a bit of a fight just to annoy him.

Though you haven’t worked together in years, and he isn’t far away by any means, you miss having Steve around on days like this. Where the arcade is quiet save for the sounds of the games in the background, where you’re simply babysitting the desk and cleaning things multiple times to try and make the hours pass by.

If Steve were with you, he’d make stupid jokes that you don’t wanna laugh at but do, or coerce you into playing the games while on the clock with the change you find whenever you’re cleaning.

He’d probably trash talk you, and bump your hip with his while playing pinball, and be a sore loser, and for some reason you want him around so bad.

You chalk it up to getting used to spending hours and hours with him, every single day, these past couple of days. Staying with him has made you miss him more, you think.

That’s it.

Meanwhile, over at Family Video, Steve isn’t feeling too different from you.

He’s spent the morning stocking shelves, memories popping into his head whenever he’d come across a movie you loved or watched together, while Robin’s been manning the desk.

Then, when his cart was empty and put back into the back room, he sat on the chair behind the front desk, spinning around until Robin stopped him with her foot and asked what he was thinking so hard about.

Steve caught her up on what had happened with your apartment (you’d told him he could tell her, because she’s your friend too and would find out sooner or later) and how you’d ended up staying with him in his house.

She raised her eyebrows and hummed in a way that was automatically suspicious, because Robin isn’t very good at hiding things.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Nothing.” When Steve only gives her a pointed look, Robin continues, “Well… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Now, Robin is one of Steve’s closest friends, and him one of hers, and she supports him in pretty much everything that he does even when she teases him relentlessly along the way, but she cares about both of you and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt.

She can read Steve better than he can read himself, probably, because to Robin, it’s clear that he feels more than friendly towards you. And he doesn’t even know it.

When they became closer, it was clear to Robin, even before meeting you, just from the way Steve spoke of you, that there was a spot reserved for you in his life that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

He would say it’s that of ‘best friend’ but Robin would call it something even bigger than that. Still, even though she thinks he’s an absolute dingus, she’s trying to let Steve figure it out for himself.

Clearly, it’s taking fucking forever.

He looks confused at her question, “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Robin sighs and resists the urge to drop her forehead against the desk and decides on, “You know what they say: become friends with your roommates, don’t become roommates with your friends.”

“Whoever they are, they’re dumb as shit,” Steve says. “She’s been over, slept over, hundreds of times. It’s not any different, just longer.”

“I guess so,” she settles on. “The rules of the world never really seem to apply to you two.”

“That’s because the rules of the world are also dumb as shit.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever tried following them.”

“‘Cause I’m a rule breaker, Robs.”

Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Robin shoves the rolling chair he’s sitting on with her foot, sending it into the other side of the desk with a thud.

“Don’t think that smoking weed in your backyard is enough to call yourself a rule breaker, dingus.”

That night, your routine was pretty much the same.

Steve was already waiting for you in his car when you left the arcade, a smile spreading onto his face when he saw you making your way across the parking lot to him, your skirt swishing a little with the breeze.

Rather than go straight home, you made a stop at your apartment to talk things over with the couple who owned the home. They’d met with a builder and plumber about getting everything fixed and wanted to walk you through it all.

Steve came with you and held your hand, and both of them cooed at him and pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie before getting to the important stuff.

After going over what had to be done (rip out the carpet, replace it, fix the pipes and make sure no others were at risk, replace the ceiling, and more you couldn’t even remember already), they’d assured you that they would be taking care of it all. Covering the entire cost.

You probably would’ve argued if not for how little money was in your bank account, and how stubborn you knew these people to be. Instead, you’d squeezed them both and thanked them while your eyes grew misty with tears.

Steve’s hand stayed in yours and squeezed when you sniffled.

He knew, because he knew pretty much everything about you, that these people were kinder to you than even your own parents. That, if this had happened at their house, they would’ve found a way to blame you for it.

You feel lucky to have found that kind of parental love elsewhere, sad that you didn’t know exactly what it felt like beforehand.

After giving the couple Steve’s phone number to call in case they needed you and giving them both another hug, you and Steve headed back home.

Home, you call it. Like it’s yours.

Sometimes it feels like it is.

Later, after you and Steve have both showered and had dinner and gotten comfy in your sweats, you’re back in the living room, Steve shows you the movie he’s brought back this time.

“Gremlins?” You ask, smiling and shaking your head.

“Hell yeah, angel. It’s a classic.”

Steve sets everything up, joining you on the couch after pressing ‘play’ on the movie and adjusting the volume with your guidance.

“So, how was work?” Steve asks during the opening credits. The two of you have a hard time being next to each other and not talking. It’s why you get dirty looks whenever you go to the movies.

“Weekdays are so boring, Steve,” you say, letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “You’re so lucky you have Robin to entertain you during the day. I think I dusted like, ten times at least.”

“Robin is a pain in my ass.” He says. He doesn’t really mean it, because even when she is, he’s glad to have her around. A different kind of gladness than he feels with you. “She kept pushing me every time I sat in the rolling chair. There’s probably a dent in the desk.”

“That’s because you were probably hogging the chair, Steve.”

“What the fuck!” Steve’s smiling when he says it, lacking any sort of anger. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Your smile mirrors his, the way it always does. It’s contagious, you think, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner.

Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know, I’d wanna push you around on that chair too, I think.”

“You’d spin me too much. I’d get sick all over you and then nobody’s happy.”

“Don’t talk about barf while I’m eating, Harrington.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him. It bounces off his cheek and lands on his lap, and he doesn’t even flinch. Steve just picks it up and pops it into his mouth.

When the bowl’s empty, you lean forward and set it on the coffee table before sinking back into the couch, Steve's shoulder brushing yours. You let the warmth seep through your clothes and shut your eyes.

It’s a little more than halfway through the movie when Steve realizes you’re asleep. You’d been quiet, sure, but Steve only thought that meant you were paying attention to the movie.

That was, until your head slipped and rested against his shoulder.

He looked down at you, at the hair falling across your forehead (he smoothed it away gently, so it wouldn’t be in your eyes or your mouth), your eyebrows relaxed and free of any worry, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He thinks of how tired you must be, after everything. Your apartment and dealing with the aftermath both emotionally and physically, working long shifts most days to keep your bank account full.

Steve, though he doesn’t let himself look too deep into it, also thinks of how beautiful you are. Now and always.

Not wanting you to get a kink in your neck from the position, Steve decides to rouse you from sleep as gently as possible. He slips a hand under your head to keep it steady and maneuvers himself to kneel in front of you.

“Hey, angel,” he almost whispers, thumb dragging across your cheek. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Your nose scrunches and you grumble, but after some coaxing, you blink your eyes open and squint at Steve. You blame your half-asleep mind on the way you nuzzle into his palm. “Hmm?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble.

Steve laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry, I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

The warmth of his hand leaves your cheek as he stands and holds his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you up off the couch and starts leading you towards the stairs.

You knuckle at your eyes on the way, a tiny smile gracing your face at how sweet Steve’s being. As if you haven’t fallen asleep on his couch plenty of times before.

Still sleepy, you stumble a little on the stairs, but Steve catches you easily with an arm around your waist and a small “Careful.”

He leaves his arm there the rest of the way to what’s become your bedroom, guiding you over to the bed and lifting the covers for you.

Tomorrow, you’ll regret not brushing your teeth or washing your face before climbing in bed. But today, you don’t feel like risking not being able to sleep again if you wake yourself up further.

You’re practically asleep again by the time you’re settled with your head on the pillow as Steve tugs the blankets over you.

You’re just awake enough to feel the light press of his lips on your forehead and a soft “Goodnight, angel” against your skin before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

On a random Thursday that you and Steve both have off, he convinces you to let him take you to the mall.

“We should go shopping,” he says when you walk into the kitchen. It’s a little later in the morning, having slept in since it’s a day off, the sun slipping through the window in warm beams.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Like, groceries?”

“No, like shopping shopping. You know, the mall?”

You lean against the kitchen island, the countertop cool on your back where it touches the sliver of skin between your tank top and sleep shorts. Steve has his shoulder against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his muscles. Not that you’re looking.

You squint at him, trying to find his motive on his face. “You literally buy whatever the mannequins are wearing to avoid shopping.”

“That’s what they’re there for!” The sass in his voice has you biting back a smile. “You need new clothes,” he continues, “and I need to get out of this house.”

“We can do something else, Steve,” you say. “I thought you hated shopping.”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” There’s a pause, Steve’s eyes lowering to that sliver of skin above your shorts. He flicks them back to your face quickly, hoping you didn’t notice, because even he’s not sure what compelled his eyes to wander. “Plus, Eddie called me a hermit the other day and I really can’t stand for that, can I?”

“Ohhh,” you ignore the way your skin suddenly feels warm beneath his gaze, “so you need to make a public appearance to prove Eddie wrong?”

“Exactly. We’ll replace some of the things you lost and restore my reputation. Two birds, one stone, right angel?”

So that’s how you’d ended up at the mall. After Starcourt burnt down, the closest place was a couple towns over, and Steve (as always) offered to drive.

He lets you pick the music the entire way, sings along when you hold your water bottle by his mouth like a microphone, even attempts to harmonize with you which just ends in laughter because neither of you sounded that great.

You’re a couple of stores in, and Steve’s been complaint-free so far—which makes sense, since this was his idea, but you’ve caught him side-eyeing some things, so you know he’s got some remarks in his head he just hasn’t said out loud—and follows you around as you browse. You try not to take too long, because you can’t imagine that this is any fun for him.

“How about that one?” Steve asks, pointing at one of the dresses hanging along the store’s wall.

He’d seen your apartment, though that was a bit ago, and he remembered what you’d lost the most of, along with the type of stuff you like. He pays attention like that, in small, quiet ways that you think mean the most.

He knows you. He cares enough to know you.

“Yeah, that’s really pretty, actually,” you admit.

At your approval, Steve grabs one in your size (which he also just happens to know) and adds it to the couple of things he’d already been holding for you. Every time you picked something up, he was quick to snatch it from you, telling you it was ‘too hard to browse with your hands full.’

After making your way through the rest of the store, you decided to head back to try things on, holding out a hand for the stuff Steve’s holding. “You can wait out here, I’ll be quick.”

“Hold on,” he says, holding the hangers out of your reach. “Why do you think I’m here, angel? I wanna help you pick.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Give me a fashion show, yeah?”

“Oh my God,” you mumble, letting him follow you to the fitting rooms.

They’re hidden behind the back wall of the store, a hallway painted bright blue with pink changeroom doors on one side, and white benches along the other.

“Hi there,” an employee with auburn hair greets you both, her smile wide and kind, though you know it’s a practiced one. Customer service smile. “How many you got there, darling?”

“Oh, um,” you turn back towards Steve, who’s counting the hangers in his hand. “Five.”

“Perfect!” The girl takes the key hanging around her neck and unlocks one of the rooms for you. She takes the clothes from Steve and hangs them up inside for you, then turns to the two of you and says, “Your man can have a seat right here. We call them the ‘boyfriend benches.’”

“He’s not my-”

“Thanks,” Steve says, cutting off your correction because for some reason he didn’t want you to correct her.

Did he… like the idea of being your boyfriend?

Fuck. No. He just didn’t want you to have to explain the whole situation in your rambly way. That’s all.

The redhead smiles again, “Holler if you need anything,” she says before walking off.

You stand there for a second, something like confusion on your face. Did it look like you were boyfriend and girlfriend?

“Come on,” Steve says, snapping the both of you out of whatever that was. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I can't believe you’re making me do this,” you say, walking into the fitting room and shutting the door.

You try on a couple of sweaters first, and Steve feels the fabric both times, making sure that it’s not scratchy on your skin. Then, there’s just some basic t-shirts that aren’t all that exciting, but Steve says they look nice anyway.

Finally, you get to the dress he picked out.

It really was pretty. A midi-length with a ruffled hem and straps that tie into little bows on your shoulders. You don’t always feel good in your clothes. Sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your skin when you look into the mirror, but right now, you don’t hate what you see.

You actually like it.

“Well?” Steve calls softly from the bench.

In response, you open the door and step out so he can see you.

Steve’s seen you in plenty of dresses—hell, you went to prom together—but for some reason this one makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker. Maybe it’s simply the fact that it looks great on you, or the way you’re smiling shyly as he looks you over.

Or, maybe it’s because he’s the one who picked it.

He stands up, spinning his finger in the air in a gesture for you to twirl. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. The hallway of fitting rooms isn’t very big, so with both of you in it, you’re standing toe to toe, the gold flecks in the middle of Steve’s eyes and the faint freckles that dot his nose are visible from where you stand.

As if he can’t help it, Steve lifts a finger and dips it beneath the strap on your shoulder. Not moving it or undoing it, just gliding along your skin where it sits.

“You look beautiful,” he says. His voice goes all quiet and soft when he says it, and his eyes widen a tiny bit, like he hadn’t meant it to slip out that way. It sounded… more than friendly. He clears his throat and steps back as much as he can in the small space, his finger leaving your skin. “I have great taste. Clearly.”

You blink at him, then shake yourself out of it as much as you can. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” You lift the tag where it hangs by your armpit and look at the price. You gasp and swat Steve’s arm. “Steve! Why would you let me walk into a place so expensive?”

You probably should’ve looked at the tag beforehand, but here you are. Steve, shrugging exaggeratedly, says, “I didn’t know!”

“Okay, I’m gonna change before she comes back. We can make a run for it.”

“We’re not stealing.”

“I know, but they look at you all judgemental when you try stuff on and don’t buy something. Trust me.”

You turn and go back into the fitting room to put on your own clothes, taking a look at the dress in the mirror one last time before shaking your head at yourself.

Steve, however, takes the opportunity to leave you and head back out into the store. He finds the dress easily and grabs another one in your size from the rack and heads to the cashier.

He’s just finishing up, bag in hand, when you walk out and meet him at the front of the store.

“For you,” he says, holding out the bag for you to take.

“Steve…” You grab it and look inside. Your chest aches when you see the dress, your heart suddenly too full and your stomach fluttering stupidly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine with something from the Gap.”

“I know that,” he says, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck. It’s a nervous tick of his, and the thought of him being nervous right now makes you melt even more. “I wanted to get it for you. You looked too pretty in it not to have it.”

Your eyes catch his, and again, something passes between you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. A fizzle, a spark.

You rock back on your feet, looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. They’re so fucking soft it makes you wonder how lucky you have to be to have him in your life. Being your best friend, driving you to work even when he doesn’t have a shift, offering you a place to stay, buying you a dress.

He’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“Well,” you twist the straps of the bag around your fingers just to keep them busy. “Thank you, Steve. This is really nice.”

His knuckle traces down your arm just once, featherlight. “You’re welcome, angel.”

You don’t buy anything else after that, instead stopping at the food court for fries, stealing from each other’s baskets, smiling and slapping hands away.

It’s the best day you’ve had in a while.

You don’t think anything you do will convey just how grateful you are that Steve has been so kind to you. Always, but especially now. Letting you stay with him and refusing to let you pay rent. (“I don’t even pay rent, and I live here all the time.”)

But, this morning, you’ve decided you’re gonna try.

Steve’s favorite meal of the day happens to be breakfast, which is funny, considering he usually eats something as simple as cereal. He’d told you once that it was because, as a kid, breakfast was the most peaceful of meals, his parents too busy getting ready for work or wherever they were going that he’d have the kitchen table to himself.

Lunch was usually spent at school, and Steve was never a fan of school to begin with. Then there was dinner, which his parents (when they were home) still wanted to have all together. They’d ask him questions and make backhanded comments about every single answer he gave. He never won at dinner.

So, breakfast was, and has remained, his favorite.

You made sure to get up early enough to give yourself time to get everything ready before he wakes up. Steve’s usually the one making the coffee in the morning, and you figured the least you could do was give him a break.

Yesterday, while Steve had been at work, you went over to the Wheeler’s and asked Nancy if you could borrow their waffle maker. She’d directed the question to her mother, who went and grabbed it for you and handed it over with a smile. You promised to take good care of it and have it back in a couple of days.

By the time Steve walks into the kitchen, you’ve already made the batter and set out the toppings—berries, maple syrup, whipped cream—like a buffet. However, he just so happens to come in as you’re swearing at the waffle maker.

“Stupid fucking thing,” you mutter, trying to open it.

Steve smiles to himself before saying, “Morning, angel.”

You jump at his voice, not having heard him walk in. When you turn around, your heart beats for a different reason.

Steve’s still only in his pajama pants, plaid and soft, hanging low on his hips. And he’s shirtless, his chest smattered with hair and his skin a little tanned from the sun. He’s got beauty marks all over, like a constellation you could chart, and his abs are just visible beneath the soft of his stomach. A trail of hair leading to the waistband of his pants and disappearing beneath them.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty of times. Swimming and sleeping over in the summer, in high school when you used to go to his practices, but it hits you harder for some reason this time.

The way his hair is still a mess from sleep, his eyes a bit heavy. The way it feels to be greeting him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Intimate. Domestic.

You clear your throat and turn back around to pry the waffle maker open, revealing a slightly burnt but otherwise good-looking waffle. “I’m making breakfast. Coffee’s already in the pot, too.”

He walks over, his chest close to your back as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above you before heading over to pour himself a cup. He looks at the spread you’ve prepared, “Waffles, huh? What did I do to deserve all this?”

“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” you say as Steve walks over to lean against the counter next to you, his hip barely touching yours. “To thank you, in a way. For letting me stay and the dress and-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He says, though his voice is soft and still a bit rough from sleep. “I like having you around.”

“So you don’t want the waffles then?”

“Oh, I want the waffles. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s not some debt you’ll owe me, angel.”

“Want you to know I appreciate you is all,” you say, pouring a new scoop of batter into the waffle maker.

Steve, unsure of what exactly possesses him to do so, dips in and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, his lips a whisper away from your skin when he says, “I appreciate you, too.”

Then he pulls away and moves to set the table. Like it was natural.

And it was, in a way. How you moved around each other in the kitchen. You leaning out of the way when he needed to reach something you were blocking, him putting a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you so you knew he was there.

Your cheek still tingles from where he’d kissed it when you bring the plate of waffles to the table, your skin somehow even warmer under his gaze, like he’s still remembering exactly how it felt, too.

You sit in the chair beside Steve, not noticing the way he tugs it a bit closer to him with his foot before you sit down. Soon enough, both of you are digging in. Steve’s got more whipped cream on his plate than waffle (you tell him as much) and you’ve got your berries on the side the way you always do.

Neither of you work until later in the day, and it’s nice knowing that you can take your time. Steve tells you about the advice he gave Dustin about how to be ‘cooler’ in school (he’d told him that being cool is completely overrated, he knew from experience, and that being himself is the most important). You’d told him he was going soft with age.

You talk about anything at all. How Keith somehow manages both of your places of work, how he also somehow does both terribly. The way he says ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ while literally having Cheeto dust on his fingers. Laughing at each other’s impressions of him.

What the new highscores were at the arcade, what people were renting from Family Video.

You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to leave. When you’re living alone again.

Logically, you know you’ll still see Steve frequently, because he’s your favorite person and you can’t remember the last time you went longer than a few days without hanging out. Still, it’ll be different than right now, waking up in the same space and sharing breakfast and brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror.

You’ll miss it, you think.

Trying not to dwell on something that’s still a few weeks away, you take another bite of your waffle. Steve catches your chin and wipes off a bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, then pulling away and sucking it off his thumb.

He goes back to his own plate without a thought. Like touching you just now was an instinct.

Then, he teases you, “These are a little crispy, angel. Maybe you should stick to letting me make breakfast in this household.”

You kick his leg under the table. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’ Harrington.”

He kicks you back, much gentler than you’d been. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When you look at him, there’s an easy, boyish smile on his face.

A similar one stretches across your own lips.

Steve has had the thought pop up into his head a couple of times, that maybe he should’ve just asked you to live with him before you ever bought that apartment. Because having you around feels the most right things have ever felt in his house.

And though the circumstances of your moving in with him (temporarily, he has to remind himself), were far from ideal, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t glad that you’ve ended up sharing his space.

The room across the hall will always be yours, even when you move back to your place.

He knows that you feel indebted to him for all of it, but if anyone owes the other something, he feels like it’s him. For everything you’ve ever done for him. Sticking around even when he was an asshole in highschool, defending him to his parents whenever you’d cross paths, simply being the kind of friend he needed.

Even when you’re not around, he can picture your face, the way your smile spreads slowly until you’re fucking beaming. Worse, the way you cried into his chest that day at your apartment.

He remembers the crack in your voice when you spoke about that picture frame from summer camp. Though he hasn’t seen you cry since, or even bring it up, he’s decided he wants to fix it. He’d told you he would.

Dustin wound up roped into his plan: find a similar frame, decorate it the exact same way, and scour the photo albums in Steve’s room for his copy of that same picture.

When he was younger, the photo albums pissed him off, because they were purely for show. Pictures of his family that were all fake smiles. Now, he’s glad for them, because at least he has some good memories to look back on. To know it wasn’t always all bad.

Steve probably should’ve thought that one through, because when they looked through his albums, he was on the receiving end of relentless teasing from Dustin. (“Dude, you have an insane boogie in this picture.” “I was four!”)

He hopes it’ll be worth it.

Dustin was the one who found the picture they’d been looking for, and he cheered and waved it in Steve’s face as if they’d been racing.

Now, after driving Dustin back home, decorating the frame the way the two of you did as kids, trying to make his handwriting look like it did back then (which wasn’t too difficult, ‘cause Steve’s writing still isn’t that neat), he’s waiting for you to come downstairs before giving it to you.

He’d picked you up after your shift at the arcade not too long ago, but he knows you like to shower and change as soon as you get home from work, so he’d taken the opportunity to wrap the frame and have it ready for you.

Steve can hear you singing in the shower, and he knows you’re done when it goes quiet. A few minutes later you’re walking down the stairs in a baggy t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.

His eyes, for some reason, linger on your legs for a second.

He stands up, frame in his hand, when you walk over. “I have something for you.”

“Steve! Stop buying me things. Seriously.”

“This thing was free, so you can’t even be mad,” he says, smiling almost sheepishly.

Your eyes search his face, flickering between his own and dipping down to his lips and his nose and back to his eyes. He looks… nervous.

Steve’s never nervous around you.

“Okay,” you say, shuffling on your feet. “What is it?”

“Here,” he hands you the poorly-wrapped frame. “Open it.”

You scrunch your brows at him once, because you have no idea what it could be. It isn’t your birthday, or any sort of holiday at all. With zero guesses, you look down at the light yellow wrapping paper in your hands and slowly tear it open.

What you find makes your eyes grow misty, tears pooling at your lash line but not quite falling.

It’s your favorite picture, the one of you and Steve in those stupid neon shirts with messy hair and dirt on your hands. Only now, it’s not water damaged, and the frame is new, but decorated just like the old one. You run your thumbs over the glass lightly, smiling down at little you and little Steve.

When you look back up at him, he’s already looking at you, his brown eyes all warm, his smile kind but also worried, waiting for your reaction.

Seeing his face springs you into motion, jumping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly with the frame still in your hand. “Thank you,” you say into his skin.

Steve’s arms move to hold you around your waist without a thought. A reflex. They squeeze you close to him, his nose pressed into your damp hair, smelling your shampoo.

“It’s not perfect,” he says. “But I know how much you love that picture, and I wanted to fix it.”

“Steve. Shut up. It is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, his thumbs running back and forth against your back.

You hug for what could’ve been minutes, but neither of you moves to pull away first. You’re not sure if it’s still considered friendly to stand in each other's arms, breathing each other in, for so long, but you don’t care at the moment.

This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for you in a long, long time.

When you finally do pull away, you don’t go far. Your arms stay slung over his shoulders, Steve’s hands framing your hips. His thumbs still dragging those sweet patterns against you.

“I’m keeping it forever,” you tell him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Certain. You’ll always be my best friend, Steve.”

“You’ll always be mine too, angel.”

Then, your eyes both move to each other’s lips, yours flick back up in a second, startled at their wandering.

Steve, however, is a bit transfixed. He looks at the slope of your cupid’s bow, the way your lips are shiny from your lip balm. He thinks it quickly, like a gust of wind that can’t be stopped: I really wanna kiss her right now.

Fuck. He wants to kiss his best friend.

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat and pulling back, letting his hands fall from your waist as yours slide off his shoulders. He misses the feel of your touch immediately, but he’s too freaked out and confused to do anything about it.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” he asks, cutting off his own thoughts. “I brought back a horror and a comedy. Take your pick.”

“Mmm,” he picks up two tapes from the coffee table and holds them up for you to choose from. “Horror. Unless you’re too scared?”

“You’ll just have to hold my hand, then, won’t you?”

“I guess I will.”

You look back at the picture while Steve puts the movie into the player. You smile at it every time you see it, because you can still see parts of Steve in him now that were in him then.

His eyes, always kind, the way he smiles when he laughs, and about a half hour into the movie, the way he holds your hand and squeezes it when he’s scared.

You’re having one of those nights. The kind where sleep seems to be fighting you.

You worked a closing shift at the arcade, which usually lasts until late considering how long you’re open plus all of the cleaning you have to do afterwards. Today was no different, and despite how much later you finish than him at Family Video, Steve waited and drove you home. He hung out in the arcade with you until close, actually.

You’d think that after such a long day, the second your head hit the pillow you’d be out and breathing steadily. Today, that is not the case. You fell asleep for maybe an hour before a nightmare woke you up. You can’t quite remember what happened, only that you’d been yelling for Steve and he wasn’t there.

Groaning quietly, you rub your eyes and toss the blankets away. You stand up and head down to the kitchen in the dark, hand trailing along the walls to make sure you don’t bump into anything.

Just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of water, you hear the shuffle of sleepy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” he says, walking over to grab a glass, one hand on his bare chest. “I thought you were a ghost or something just now.”

You shift out of the way to let him get some water just like you did, taking the second that he’s distracted to look at him. His hair a mess, wearing nothing but his boxers. You take a big sip from your glass.

“I feel like I should be offended right now,” you say, “if you think I look like a ghost.”

“Shut up,” he says, dragging out the second word. His voice being rough from sleep makes his words sound much warmer than they are. “My eyes aren’t awake yet. Nothing to do with you, angel.”

You shake your head, though there’s a soft smile on your face the way there always seems to be when you try to be annoyed with Steve. You tilt your head at him, asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Been tossing and turning. Just can’t get comfortable, then I got pissed ‘cause I couldn’t get comfortable and only made it worse.”

“You would get pissed at that. Probably slapped your pillow like it was at fault.”

He folds his lips inwards and blinks at you. Because he did smack his pillow and call it a dipshit. “Why do you know everything? Spying on me?”

“Hate to say it, but you’re getting predictable, Harrington.” You shrug, then move to put your now empty glass in the dishwasher. “I know you too well.”

He looks at you, your hair falling across your shoulders, your pajama shorts riding up a little as you bend down. The moonlight slipping through the window seems to hit you perfectly. Like a halo.

Fitting, he thinks. You’re his angel, after all.

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees. Then, “What about you? Why’re you up?”

“Nightmare. Been forever since I had one.”

“You okay?” he asks, trailing a knuckle over your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it.

“Yeah,” you say, skin tingling where he’d touched you. “I can't even remember most of it, but now my brain won’t let me sleep.”

Steve wishes he could’ve protected you from whatever haunted you in your sleep. It’s silly, he knows, to think he might be able to ward away anything that hurts you, but he wants to, nonetheless.

He thinks about how comfortable he is whenever you cuddle during movie night. Your head on his shoulder or his chest, his hand on your back or waist.

So, he blurts, “Why don’t you sleep over?”

You furrow your brows at him, “Um, I’ve been sleeping over. A couple of weeks now, actually.”

“No, I mean, like in my room with me,” he says, suddenly shy at the idea. He’s grateful for the darkness, because he can feel his cheeks warming up. “A proper sleepover.”

You’ve done it before. Shared a bed a bunch of times, but for some reason your heart jumps when he says it. Your stomach swirls as you say, maybe a little too quickly, “Okay.”

Steve’s eyes widen like he’s surprised, just for a split second, before a soft smile takes over his face. He holds out a hand for you to take, “C’mon.”

Soon enough, Steve’s lifting his navy bedspread for you, letting you slip into bed next to him. He stays further away at first, letting you settle and lay on your side the way he knows you always do.

You blame sleepiness—or, maybe, the lack thereof—for the way you reach behind you for his arm and tug him closer, draping it over your own waist.

He obliges, of course, his arm securing itself across your stomach, palm spread out and warm against your sleep shirt. His chest is only a breath away from your back, though he keeps his lower half a little more distanced.

His thumb runs circles over your shirt, once, twice, three times before stilling, his forehead pressing to the back of your neck.

“Goodnight, angel,” he says into your hair.

Your hand splays itself on top of his. “Night, Steve.”

And suddenly your eyes grow heavier, and sleep doesn’t feel like much of a battle anymore.

You wake up the most rested you’ve felt in a while. There’s warmth surrounding you, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that feels safe.

Somehow, you and Steve are even closer than you’d been when you fell asleep. His arm is still around your waist, his other outstretched and tucked beneath your head like a pillow. His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel it expand with every breath he takes.

Most differently of all, however, is the way his hips are snug against the curve of your butt. And you can feel him hard against you.

Your skin feels even warmer than before when you notice.

Steve hasn’t woken up yet, you don’t think, because the faintest snores are getting puffed out against your shoulder where his face is tucked. His hand on your stomach has worked its way beneath your shirt, though, and his fingertips press against your skin, like he’s fighting to keep you close.

As if you’d go anywhere even in your sleep.

His knee is tucked between your legs, and you’re quickly realizing that it’d be pretty impossible to get out of bed without him noticing. You’re completely tangled together, a knot of limbs somehow fitting together just right. Like two puzzle pieces.

In his sleep, Steve’s mouth presses against the back of your shoulder, and only when you involuntarily shiver at the contact, does he stir.

It takes Steve a bit to really wake up, mumbling words that don’t make sense, scrunching his eyes shut even further before blinking them open. He’s met with the sight of you right in front of him. Body curved perfectly against his.

“Steve? You awake?” you ask, checking.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Then, something that has his cheeks flushing pink, he registers the feeling of his boner pressed against your ass. He shuffles them back enough so there’s space between you. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. Because he can’t control the way his body reacts while he’s asleep.

“I didn’t think-” he cuts himself off, because he’s not quite sure how to say I didn’t think about the whole morning wood factor or that I’d fucking plaster myself to you when I suggested a sleepover without sounding stupid. Instead, he just repeats, “I’m sorry.”

You twist yourself around to face him, sheets crumpling and twisting as you move. When you settle back onto the pillow and look at his face, at the redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, you squeeze his hand that’s now laying between you.

“It’s okay, really,” you say. “It’s, like, anatomy. You’re human, Steve.”

“I don’t want you to think I invited you to sleep in here for some pervy reason,” he says, scrunching his nose when he says it.

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell him. You squeeze his hand again. “We’ve shared a bed like, a hundred times by now. If anything I’m surprised this hasn’t happened already.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, shutting his eyes and pushing his face into the pillow.

“Steve,” you drag out his name, fighting a giggle at the way he’s acting. He’s got a reputation, after all, and how shy and embarrassed he seems to be doesn’t reflect the things you heard about him in high school. He’s changed a lot since then. “It’s seriously fine. We can pretend it never happened. Promise.”

Steve pulls his face from the pillow, eyes catching yours as his fingers squeeze yours back in appreciation. He lets his eyes wander a bit, at the messy bits of your hair around your face from sleeping, the marks in your cheek from the pillowcase, the way your sleep shirt has fallen off your shoulder.

He feels lucky to get to see you this way, right after you’ve woken up. Vulnerable, unguarded, beautiful.

It’s during this small stretch of silence that you realize how close your faces are now. You’re sharing a pillow, his nose not even an inch from yours. Shift forward the slightest bit, and they’d be touching. Your eyes trail down to his mouth, to the visible patch of chest hair and the freckles that dot his skin. He’s already looking right at you when your eyes flick back upwards.

You know Steve, could tell what he’s feeling just from the look on his face, but this is one you’ve never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

Steve moves first, his eyes a little darker than usual, shifting forward slightly, then looking at you. Daring you to make the next move.

“What if we didn’t forget about it?” he says. Quiet and scratchy.

You don’t have time to think before you move forward a bit, too. Your noses brush. “What would that mean?”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. Rather, he moves forward the final bit and brushes his lips against yours in a question mark of a kiss, giving you time to pull away.

You don’t.

Instead, the hand of yours that isn’t still holding his comes up to the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to do it again. His free hand tightens at your waist as he dips in a second time.

It isn’t as tentative now that you’ve urged him on. His lips meet yours more sure, more firm, but still soft against you. Neither of you cares one bit about morning breath, or about what this might change. As if the morning’s haze slows time, minds still a little sleepy.

You’re simply acting on instinct. And this feels too right to stop.

Soon enough it grows more heated, Steve shifting to hover over you, his elbows pushing into the mattress to hold himself up, his tongue sneaking out to lick against the seam of your lips for permission.

Just as you open up for him, the blaring sound of Steve's alarm cuts you off, pulling back with a gasp. He simply leans up on one arm and slams the snooze button—and you laugh, you laugh, at how hard he hits it—before diving back into you.

You feel hot all over, where one of Steve’s hands has moved to cup your jaw, his thumb running delicately against your face as his mouth moves against yours, practically devouring you. Where the blankets are still over your lower halves, trapping in heat. When he pulls back, looks into your eyes, fucking smiles all dopey and pretty, and then kisses you again.

It’s so good, you’re almost angry at yourself for not kissing him sooner.

You kiss until his alarm goes off again and Steve's forced to pry himself away from you, groaning about being on his ‘last tardy warning’ from Keith.

Still, he takes the time to kiss your forehead on his way out, Family Video vest slung over his shoulder, calling a sweet, “bye, angel,” on his way out. His hair’s still a mess from your fingers, and he doesn’t even seem to mind.

You stay in his bed longer than you probably should, blinking up at the ceiling, fingers pressed against your lips like you’re searching for physical proof that everything was real.

What the fuck just happened?

It’s been a couple of weeks, and Steve can’t stop thinking about that kiss. He doesn’t know it, but you can’t stop thinking about it either.

Neither of you have brought it up, and things have faded back to normal as if it had never happened. But you and Steve are both thinking the same things without knowing it. How good and natural and easy it felt, how, every now and then, you think about doing it again.

You talk and joke and watch movies and eat meals together the same way you always have, and it’d be so easy to stay that way, to never kiss again. But then, what if you could stay that way and kiss? Wouldn’t that be something close to perfect?

You lay awake thinking about it every few nights. Because, when you really reflect on your life and how intertwined it is with Steve’s, you realize that you’ve sort of always acted like a couple, minus the kissing and sex aspect. You go on what could easily be classified as dates—the movies, lunch or dinner—you cuddle on the couch almost nightly, and you’ve never shied away from physical touch with one another. Held hands, a palm on your back.

You haven’t brought it up with Steve because you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself. Feelings are so fucking confusing and messy and you’d like to have a better idea of what’s going on in your own head before asking him about his.

Meanwhile, Steve has allowed himself to come to terms with it. He’s in love with you.

He’s pretty sure he has been for a while. Months, maybe even years.

It hadn’t come easily, though. It was nights spent similarly to yours, running through interactions you’ve had and the way he felt that one time in senior year when you went on a date with some guy from your math class. Even then, a part of him felt wrong about it, that pit in his gut.

Then there were his shifts with Robin at Family Video where he’d practically spilled everything just to get her opinion. She looked up and sighed “thank you” before saying that it was nice of him to finally catch on.

Had he really been that obvious? All this time? And had he really been that oblivious to his own feelings?

Steve can’t answer those questions. He can’t say when his love for you changed from platonic to romantic, he just knows that it has and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from it.

You’re his best friend in the entire world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he can’t picture himself loving anyone but you so wholly.

He’s fucking terrified of losing you, but he’s also terrified of never telling you how he feels and testing that what if.

So, like a desperate idiot, he knocks on the door to Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie opens it after a minute and what sounded like him stubbing his toe, “oh, hey Harrington. More weed?”

“No, shut up. I need your help.”

“You,” Eddie points at Steve, then at himself, “need my help for something? Are you ill?”

“Okay,” Steve, dramatic and bitchy as usual, sighs and mutters something about this being a stupid idea and turns to leave.

“Come on,” Eddie laughs, “I’m just joking. What’s up?”

Soon enough, Steve’s sitting on Eddie’s couch, Eddie pacing in front of the coffee table like this is a very serious matter, and telling him pretty much everything. Your kiss, the train of thought it sparked.

“Basically I’m in love with her and I have no clue what to do,” Steve finishes, sinking back into the couch cushions. It squeaks as he shifts.

Eddie pauses, tugging at his bottom lip between his fingers, then looks at Steve and says, “You know I’ve never dated anyone in my life, right?”

Steve groans into his hands, “Why do all of my friends have to be losers with no dating lives.”

Eddie ignores that, because he can tell how affected Steve actually is by all of this. How much he cares. He walks over and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, telling her how you feel?”

Steve rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his head hang for a moment before picking it up. “Of course I have, but I’m fuckin’ scared.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, she could reject me and not feel the same way and everything would be awkward because I ruined it and I’d lose my best friend in the entire world.”

“What if she does feel the same?” Eddie asks.

He’s both yours and Steve’s friend, he’s been around the both of you together. He’s seen the way you look at each other. Eddie might not be an expert, but it’s always looked a lot like love to him. He’s pretty sure the chances of you feeling the same are quite high.

“What do you mean?”

“What if she does feel the same and you never figure it out because you’re too afraid?” Eddie says. “Man, don’t you think that risk is worth taking?”

Steve thinks about it, and as much as he hates to admit it, Eddie’s right. He’d hate to always wonder, to lose out on the chance to really be with you when he knows it could be so good.

You are worth the risk to him.

“When the fuck did you become so wise, Munson?”

“Dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanna smoke?”

Steve laughs, “Yes I do.”

With Steve gone at work and you off for the day, there’s been too much room for your thoughts to creep in. Too much silence.

You’ve already been thinking about things so much. Thinking about him so much, that in his absence, your mind seemed to work overtime to fill in the gaps.

You thought about the day he picked you up from your apartment, how quick he was to drop whatever he’d been doing and come over and help you and take you home with him. The day he took you shopping and bought you a dress because he thought you looked pretty in it, the way his fingers fiddled with the strap on your shoulder when you tried it on for him.

The day he gifted you a remade version of your favorite picture from summer camp because he knew how much it meant to you, the way you held on to each other afterwards.

How you’d been waiting for him to get home that night he went to Eddie’s, just to make sure he was okay. How when he came in, he smiled at the sight of you curled on the couch, and he kissed your cheek when he walked by like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your brain knew he was high, you could smell the weed mingling with his cologne on his clothes when he leaned in close, but your heart didn’t care about that. It thumped in your chest the second he leaned in closer, even worse when his lips touched your cheek.

The realization hits you now like a shock, a quick zip of electricity running through your system. You fucking love him.

Sure, you’ve loved Steve practically your whole life, but this was different. You love him, love him. Like, you want to kiss him when he comes home from work and in the morning. You want him to introduce you as his girlfriend and to be able to call him your boyfriend.

You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner, because looking back on things now, knowing how you feel, you can see it written throughout your entire friendship. Holding hands and kissing foreheads and hands pushing hair away from faces.

For a second, you’re purely happy, because you get to be in love with your best friend and it feels as warm and sweet as sunlight. Then, the fear creeps in, and you’re scared. Scared of losing him, of making things weird, of change and doing the wrong thing.

So scared that you start to panic and pack up some of your things in your bag like you’re running away.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what else to do. You’ve never been in love before, you’ve never known it this way—so kind and unconditional. And your parents sure as hell didn’t set a good example for you. They’d fight, and someone would leave with the slam of a door, and then they’d be back and the cycle would continue.

You’re scared and confused and your instincts are telling you to run away even though the only place you really wanna be is with Steve. In his arms.

You’re stuffing clothes into your bag just to keep your hands busy, breathing hard and fast, when you hear the front door open and close. Steve’s quick to find you, his eyes scanning your room and then looking at you. “What are you doing?”

You feel like you might cry just looking at him. His brown eyes worried but warm as always, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s nervous.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in your voice.

“It was dead, so Keith let me off early. I-” Steve furrows his brows, “are you leaving?”

You nod. “I’ve been in your way long enough.”

“I told you, you’re never in my way.” Steve knows you, and he loves you, and he can tell that there’s something going on. That you’re panicked and trying to get away from whatever it is. He cares too much to let that happen. “I want you to stay.”

You want to stay, too. You just don’t know what comes next, and that unknown, the lack of control, of familiarity, it makes your hands shake.

Your mind doesn’t work the same when you’re afraid.

“Give me one good reason why I should stay, Steve. I’ve been taking up your space for weeks and-”

“Because I love you.” Steve cuts you off. He hadn’t planned on telling you this way, he wanted it to be romantic and perfect but he can’t wait any longer. Especially not when you’re trying to run away. “I’m in love with you. And I want you here.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, blinking up at him like you’re not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You- what?”

“I love you. Romantically. And I think I have for a really long time.”

“You’re not high again, are you?” You ask, your eyes a little misty.

Steve walks over to you and grabs both of your hands in his, making sure you’re looking at him, at the sincerity written all over his face, when he says, “Completely sober. I fucking love you and I want you to keep living with me, because this house doesn’t really feel like home unless you’re in it.”

“What about when my apartment is ready?”

He squeezes your hands. “Stay then, too. Stay forever.”

You look up at him, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes so honest, a tentative smile on his mouth. The only boy you’ve ever loved.

You feel silly for trying to escape this when this is how it’s turning out. Steve had been brave just now, telling you he loves you and he wants you to stay, so you decide to be brave, too.

It’s easier than you thought it would be to say: “I love you, too, Steve. I feel the same. I only just realized it and freaked out. I’m so scared of losing you, is all.”

“You won’t. Not ever.”

You tip your chin up to kiss him after he says it, because you can. You pour your feelings into it, and Steve returns your kiss as if it’s one he’s known for years. It’s slow, and deep, and sweet, and so full of love you’re practically overflowing with it.

The two of you only pull away when you need a breather. Steve doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Well, we’ve been acting like a couple for a while, I think, so we stay the same. Mostly. Except now I get to call you my girlfriend-”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me first.”

He lets go of one of your hands and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle running lovingly across your cheek. “My angel girl, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your grin is wide and lovesick and cheesy and you don’t care one bit. “Yeah, yes I will. Boyfriend.”

“And, being your boyfriend means I get to do this.”

He kisses you once more. And you don’t ever want to not be kissing him again.

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thank you guys so much for reading!!! it would mean a whole bunch if you would consider leaving a comment or a reblog and letting me know what you think!! it helps more than you know <3

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