#even at the cost of a bit of pride

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[citrus-writing]

surrender to me

Thinking about how utterly humiliating it'd be to be forced to ride your yandere-

Tw: non-con, dub-con, extreme feelings of guilt and shame, reader is an active participant in their own assault 

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It's bad enough when he pins you down to whatever surface is nearby, taking whatever he wants from you, forcing you to take whatever he gives you. It's bad enough that you're helpless to his advances, that he can so easily overpower you, use you like his own personal toy. It's bad enough that he fucks you so good, hitting that spot that has you nearly screaming, keeping up the relentless pace until your legs shake, and making sure you always cum at least once, though he always always tries for more.

It's worse when he pulls you on top of him. At least when you're underneath him you can say it's not your fault, that you have no hand in what happens to you.

But now, as you straddle his waist, his cock buried deep inside you, he tells you to "ride me, come on, just the way you like it" you feel shame wash over you. He's your kidnapper, he took everything from you, and now he wants you to be an active participant in your torment. Everything in your rebels against the idea, tells you to fight it, to hold onto your pride at any and all costs. But it's not like you have a choice, you know what disobeying him means- you've faced too many punishments to risk another.

Shame eats at you as you begin to move, hesitant and humiliated, but unwilling to disobey. You rock your hips, trying not to shutter with every drag of his length along your walls. You're so wet for him and you know he can tell. You close your eyes, you don't want to see the way he's looking at you, can't bare to see the adoration in his eyes when you fuck yourself on his cock and he can't help but whisper that you're "such a good girl for me".

You hate that it feels good, that even your leisurely pace is making you bite back moans and fight the urge to ride him harder, to make yourself cum, and to feel him cum too. He grabs your hips, guiding you to pick up the pace a little, and you curse that he knows exactly what you like. He knows just how to guide your movements to make you tremble and whimper as he fucks you, he knows exactly what will have you moaning and gushing around him. He knows exactly how to make you his perfect little whore.

It's too much- the absolute misery of the situation is more than you can bear. You're riding your kidnapper, moaning and crying out for him, feeling your orgasm creep up on you too fast. It’s humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing he’s ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid. 

You can't tell if he's still forcing your hips into the rhythm or if you've given into it, can't really tell if he's thrusting up into you or if your just bouncing on his cock that hard- but you're so close, and he feels so good inside you, and you want to cum so bad. You should be fighting this, but you’re not. You’re rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more. 

"Gonna cum?" He asks, voice a little bit teasing but mostly breathless at the way you move above him and the way you feel around him. He tells you all the time that he loves you, that you belong to him, that he’d do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, it’s easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,” he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move. 

You do- with a desperate cry of his name you feel your orgasm wash over you, crashing down on you and you can think of nothing else but his length filling you up, hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out so wide. It's so dirty; knowing you threw away all your morality and pride for this- you let yourself be used by man you should hate just so you could get off, you practically begged him for it. 

Because no matter how your mind tries to convince itself this isn't what you want, your body knows this is exactly what you want. 

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[cheyisagirlkisser]

what if reader is a cat burglar and breaks into pitfighter vi’s apartment one night and vi catches her and at first she thinks it’s kinda funny and says “are you dumb? there’s nothing in here worth stealing.” but then she sees how cute and scared reader is and decides to punish her for her actions

CONTENT: Vi x fem! reader, spanking (r! receiving), fingering & oral sex (r! receiving), spit play, hair-pulling, impact play, overstimulation, rough sex, degradation & some praise, dom / sub roles (dom vi, submissive reader), punishment, aftercare in the end

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

A/N: Thank you for the request I loved this one! Also if it's unclear because I only hinted to it, Vi comes back early because she forgot her bandages!! Enjoy<3

Your hands leisurely sift through the jewelry box, fingers brushing against a few rings and necklaces. Then, you feel it. Jackpot. A beautiful emerald, a real emerald necklace. You recall your friend telling you about how Pilties loved their jewels; frisking the accessory out of the box, you didn't expect to find such quality from an undercity home. Once again, another good snag. You smiled to yourself in pride though you were alone and slipped out the window you came out of, onto the night to bring your find to an.. 'old friend.'

The door jingled so comically and shut behind you. There, standing behind a tall desk and in front of shelves of treasures was Harlan: the pawn man of Zaun. He was intimidatingly tall and a snake if you ever did see one, but he was convenient, his building open at all hours of the night. Though most came to sell their own items, he didn't particularly need to know that yours were not technically.. well, yours. All he needed was something to sell up to the top-siders.

"Well, well, well. You've got something new for me today?" Voice so nasal, you'd think he was always in bouts of allergies, but no. Just a natural snake. "Show me what you've got for me, dear."

Your grin was as wide as the Cheshire cat's, "you'll never believe the haul, Harlan."

With raised brows, he bit. "How much?"

"One." Your hands found purchase at the front of his desk, amusingly starting up at his now impatient expression.

"You've come to me with only one item?" He sighed. "Fine, show me. What's so great about your find?"

Your toothy smile only widened, having lured him in for the catch. Then, your nimble hand fished through your pocket, pulling out the fish in question, the emerald shining as if to say, "I cost more than your Zaun home is worth by twice-over."

You had him hooked, and you were happily able to return back to your home with a bag of coins and a few heaps of gold stuffed into your pockets. Once your feet returned back to your humble apartment, you were quick to collapse onto your stiff mattress.

Your life mainly consisted of the routine of thievery. At night, you dressed to cover yourself and bade off to homes to snatch their possessions. From watches to even just coin itself, you were particularly good at going undetected. This was all you knew, and you didn't feel an ounce of empathy. What was fair was fair game, and what wasn't fair were the cards you were dealt with early into your childhood; why should anyone be offered what is simply 'fair', if you are not? You had rent to pay, your own mouth to feed, and everyone in Zaun in fact knew that money did equate to happiness. Everyone in Piltover may have been able to snuff those thoughts down as they mindlessly bought their way through life, leading more extravagance in a nanosecond than any person who'd lived in the undercity could see in a century-length lifetime.

Tomorrow, you thought, would be an even better haul. You usually did not plan through missions, for you were witty and able to go undetected. However, you knew what apartment to pick from tonight. You knew who to pick from, more precisely stated.

Her shoulders were broad, her hair dark. A glint of metal from her piercing flickered through visions, and her betters were smug. Vi was the name all undercity could ever think to talk about anymore. Vi was well-known for her abilities in the ring, and you knew she had a lot of money in her pockets from that. Little did you know that all of the cash went straight to brothels and beer, not to anything you could pick-pocket, though you did love a good quality drink or two.

You planned the perfect burglary: leave before Vi's first fight of the night starts so that she won't be in her apartment for a while, giving you enough time to find yourself her most valuable possessions. Every fight probably lasted under 15 minutes, but that did not include the time she spent at the bar with Loris or preparing for fights, so that added quite some extra time onto however many fights she'd be taking on that night. When you were satisfied with the haul, you would be careful not to leave a trace of yourself anywhere or make any noise that may pin you to the crime; you heard rumors that Vi was sweet on enforcers, and you wondered if that meant that she could possibly make it easier for you to be pinned to all of the robberies in the under-city if she were to ask for it. A trial like that? You'd be easily looking at decades.

You knew that without a doubt, this could go terribly wrong. Not only was Vi disgustingly connected to enforcers, but she was extremely strong. If you were to be caught, your life could be on the line. You weren't weak, but you were in no means fit to take on any pitfights, let alone Vi. However, you were quite foolish and the money from the emerald necklace would only get you so far. Plus, what's wrong with stealing from some enforcer suck-up?

So, you carried out your grand plan. At 8 p.m, the first fight began. Vi had not locked her front door, which surprised you but you were ironically grateful. Made it a lot easier than slipping through a window. Now, here you were, in Vi's apartment.

Taking it all in left you dumbfounded, to say the last. There was almost nothing in sight worth stealing. The room was tinier than you could even imagine; hell, it was smaller than your apartment and that was saying a lot. How in the world does a successful woman like Vi live in a place the size of a college dorm? The bed was hardly a mattress, and all of the valuable items you expected to see within the room were somewhat empty bottles of alcohol, dirty clothes all over the floor, and a few empty plates. Really the only thing worth stealing was the punching bag, but that would be difficult to carry, and you couldn't fit it in any bag you had on you. You momentarily noticed Vi's bandages on the mattress (if you could call it that), which was peculiar knowing that she was known for always fighting with those wrapped around her hands, but you were starting to panic over the fact that you plan was for naught. In a bit of a frenzy, you began sifting through her wooden nightstand's drawers for anything of importance. A flask, a small amount of coins, and a palette of black eye-shadow was all. And then, before you could get a chance to even take those items, you were caught.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" The door slammed. You whipped back around to see her standing a few feet away, looking cautious but not exactly furious.

"I-I..I was just..." Your words seemed to fail you. Everything you could think of, any possible explanation, it all vanished. You thought of coming clean, but she quickly caught you off guard with a burst of laughter.

"Oh my god, are you that thief everyone's been complaining about?! It's you?" She didn't sound even irritated anymore, just purely entertained. You stood, defensiveness creeping into you.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" You shouted, fingers clenching into fists. Okay, so you did not appear to be thief material, to say the least. You didn't look like some big-time robber, only like a 20 year old girl. Still, you almost wished she would've just turned you in. This was humiliating.

"It's just that... you're visiting me of all people? Are you that stupid? There's not a single thing in here even worth taking. You could probably find a mouse who lives in the wall and sell it for more than this place is worth." She laughed once more, looking over your body in a way that made you both offended and somehow hot.

"Oh, please. Says the one who's soft on the top-siders." Your mouth was going to get you in a lot of trouble, it seemed.

Vi's laughed quickly died down, and she began walking towards you. There was nowhere to go but backwards until your back hit the wall. "You wanna say that again, thief? I could have you rot in Stillwater, you know." That threat caused you to begin to panic. You'd heard countless stories of what the guards do to their prisoners, and you didn't think you could even survive an hour in one of those cells.

"I'm sorry, please don't...please don't tell anybody. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Vi raised a brow at that.

"Yes! I'll do anything, I'll give you all the cash on me, I'll never break into another house again, just..." You were starting to sound desperate, and Vi seeing some cute thief begging, offering her anything at all for her troubles... a wicked idea popped into her brain.

"I wanna fuck you."

"What...?"

"You heard me. I was planning on spending tonight's earnings on the brothel, but you'll work, I guess."

Her demand was met with silence. For some reason, more heat spread through your face at the thought of getting fucked by Vi than you'd care to admit. You knew that if you agreed, she probably wouldn't go easy. Then again, you didn't exactly have a choice. You were in her apartment after trying to take all of her shit. Before you could protest any further, Vi had you pinned against her wall, a hand gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. Her next words were quiet and low.

"Thieves deserve to get punished, am I right?" She let out a small hum at the way your breath hitched, "I mean, 'specially the pretty ones. So what'll it be, sweetheart?"

Your eyes widened at her words. "W-What will...what be?"

Vi laughed, a soft sound. "What'll it be? The enforcer's idea of punishment or mine?"

Your body was already betraying you, heat fluttering in your lower stomach at her words. This was the last thing you were expecting at the previous worries of getting caught, but you had to admit that Vi was hot. She had experience, too. You swallowed and tried to keep a steady voice with her.

"You."

Vi was a fucking maniac, you concluded.

She had you laid naked across her lap, your ass red with her handprint. Her hand spent what felt like hours slamming down onto your ass-cheeks, hitting both with an amount of force you knew that she contained, but didn't expect to feel. Each smack required a number. She forced you to count each and every spank, and if you hesitated for too long or lost count, she would start over. You didn't even remember how many times you were forced to restart because each blow on your rear left you a mess. All the while, she'd throw filthy words at you, somehow causing your pussy to grow wet and drip onto her mattress.

"Whores get punished when they get greedy. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you baby?"

SMACK!

"Every time I spank you, you seem to get even more soaked. A damn mess all over my bed. It's okay, baby. You'll make up for it."

SMACK!

When you were thinking about getting punished sexually, you imagined just a rough fuck. Maybe some heavy kissing and the usual lesbian stuff, not to be bent over this girl's lap and spanked like it was discipline, forced to count and basically stripped of any ounce of dignity your soul had. You had to admit that you loved it, though. The more her hand met your skin, the louder you got. It was absolutely hell, and you looked like it, too. Your hair that was once tied back was frizzy and tangled from the amount of times she'd gripped it to lift your head up. Your eyes were watery, rimmed with tears that reached your cheeks. Your bottom lip was sore and swollen from you biting down onto it to brace yourself for her punishment. Each moment was absolute torture.

And just when you thought it was over, Vi's fingers slipped inside of you, giving you no time to adjust before fucking you senseless. You cried out at the mix of pleasure and pain, trying to squirm away but Vi's hand on your hip kept you right in your place on across her lap.

"O-Oh, fuck!! Vi, please, take it easy on me-" You didn't even sound like yourself now, your voice broken from all of the crying and your words muffled from your face in the mattress. You were so fucking embarrassed, naked on top of this woman's thighs with her fingers thrusting into your pussy like she hated you. You were convinced she did.

"Why should I take it easy on you? You're just a filthy thief who's desperate enough to steal from anyone, and apparently desperate to get fucked." She berated you, voice so unlike what you'd heard before when she was lightheartedly laughing at you for breaking in.

"It's too much, please!! I can't take it.." You pleaded, crying into her pillow. It was too much, that much was true. Each hit to your g-spot wasn't like a brush but instead like a punch to it, and it felt like overstimulation before you were even able to cum yet.

Vi seemed to take mercy on you, at least that was what you assumed.

Her digits slipped out of you, but before you could sigh in relief, she had you flipped over and onto your back, laid out on top of her mattress with your legs spread in a matter of seconds. Soon, one hand returned to your pussy, three fingers pumping into you at a relentless pace as her other hand gripped your chin. Her eyes were dark with something you weren't used to seeing in anyone, and you began to realize why she was so good at fighting - she was fucking insane.

"Open that fuckin' mouth of yours. Right now." You didn't even wait to oblige, quickly parting your lips which were spilling out whines and cries for mercy. Vi spit into your mouth and used her own hand to close your jaw. "Now, swallow."

You swallowed graciously, and a flutter went through you at her taste. She hadn't even kissed you yet, and you now wanted her to. Her saliva was thick with alcohol and iron, perhaps from blood from a previous fight, but you needed more.

"V-Vi, need a kiss.." You begged breathlessly, expecting her to cave.

"You think you deserve a kiss?" You nodded eagerly, trying your best to even maintain the conversation with her fingers picking up in speed. "Yeah? You're getting a kiss after you've learned your goddamn lesson."

Before you could even whine in protest, Vi's head was between your legs, making out with your sopping cunt while three fingers curled to meet your g-spot. "You wanna complain about me fucking you like this, but you're soaking wet enough to take it and this sweet pussy's just clenching around my fingers like she never wants me to leave," she pulled away to remark before diving back in, tongue circling around your swollen bud.

"Oh, fuck!! Vi, no- You're gonna make me cum, Vi!!"

Only, Violet didn't seem to care. In fact, she wanted you to. She wanted you to so that she could do it again, and again, and again.

Vi coaxed the first orgasm out of you with the flat of her tongue and a deep plunge into your stretched-out hole. Each flick of her tongue sent you both squirming away and bucking up into her mouth. Every hit your sweet insides endured had you only gripping at her stained mattress harder. You cried, pleaded, and begged her for more. You could feel her smile against your pussy. She'd give you more, alright.

You were starting to regret your word when her mouth stayed latched to your clit and her fingertips abused your spongey, tender insides. You were practically fucked raw now, ass still red and sore, cries sounding more like a wounded animal than a real girl, and all you could even process was the sensations. You forgot what you came here for, forgot about wanting a kiss. You wanted mercy.

The second orgasm was a brutal paradise. Ecstasy flowed throughout your body in waves until once again, your pussy was feeling the raw overload of pleasure she was dealing you. You didn't remember how many more times this cycle continued, only that by the end of it, your lower half was numb and you recalled through teary vision, her chin coated in your juices and her lips parting to suck the taste off of her own fingers.

When she was finally done with you, she pulled you into her lap and held you tightly. Sure you were a little thief, but a cute one. Vi wasn't a monster. Her hands traced patterned over your back and squeezed you tightly. You sniffled, still coming down from the intensity of it all.

"Shh, you were a good girl 'f me...took it all and now you're here in my lap.." she comforted you, planting her lips onto your hair.

Then, you remembered what you really wanted to feel before you had to leave.

"Can I please get a kiss?" Your head pulled from her shoulder so that you could see her. Vi nearly melted at your eyes staring up at her, so vulnerable and in need of her care.

Of course she leaned in, pressing her lips onto yours with a gentle warmth just for you to have. She didn't rush it or invade your mouth, only spoiling you with her tender affection you craved after her harsh lesson. Her lips made soft smacking sounds against yours, causing you to softly hum against her mouth and lean in closer for more. You needed this stranger's care more than you needed anything else in that moment. When you pulled away, you placed your head onto her bandaged chest, letting her heart beat and sweet coos lull you to slumber. You ended up falling asleep in her arms, and you hoped to come back to her apartment, but rather for her than for stealing. Your body ached with the previous events, but Vi's hold on you didn't leave you throughout the night, squeezing you so softly to hear those sweet, sleepy squeaks.

[fastandcarlos]

All Your Little Things : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: imagine being able to date the perfect gentleman, well that's exactly what you get being the one in a relationship with max

To say he was protective of you was an understatement, there was no greater job for Max than the job of taking care of you, with all of the little things he did for you. 

It was the things that you never paid attention to, the little habits that he had picked up over the years that came naturally to him, without even having to think Max’s body guided him to those spots where he could look after you. 

As you walked out of your apartment onto the streets of Monaco, hands landed on your shoulders and moved you from one side of the pavement to the other. Max smiled back at you as he slipped his hand in with yours, much more comfortable on the side by the cars instead. 

“They’ll hit me first,” he simply smiled as you looked at him questionably. 

“Hopefully that doesn’t happen.” 

“Well, if it does, I’m here to make sure you’re safe,” Max responded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

Once you got to the restaurant that you were eating at, Max led you to one side, taking a step forwards so that he could be the one to open up the door for you too.  

“I got it,” Max grinned as you looked back at him, sending him a glance as if to remind him that you were more than capable of opening up a door for yourself. 

The pride in his expression though brought a smile to your own face too, allowing Max to hold onto your hand and lead you to the table that you always sat at. 

“For you,” he spoke, pulling your chair out from underneath the table for you. 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, taking your seat as Max tucked you in. 

“Only for you,” he sung, kissing the top of your head once again before moving around the table and taking a seat opposite you. 

“I don’t think Lando would like to hear you say that,” you chuckled, taking the menu that Max held out for you to read. 

“Trust me, Lando doesn’t compare to you.” 

As you sat to your meal, Max listened intently to every single word that you had to say. Admittedly, you were talking a little bit of nonsense, but Max still listened, nodding to show you he was there, interrupting every so often when he wanted to add a little nugget of advice. 

It was something of nothing for him, after all he loved listening to your voice and the passion that you had as you spoke. But for you, it was nice to feel as if you were heard, having spent so many years feeling as if you were talking to yourself, now every word was held onto by Max. 

You couldn’t have wished for more for your evening, even as the cheque came, a hand grabbed it before you could take a look. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, watching Max pull out his card from his wallet, “you know what I’m going to tell you Verstappen.” 

“And you know what I’m going to tell you,” he smugly replied, swatting your hand when you went to reach for your bag from under the table, refusing to let you get your purse and pay towards your meal. 

Max’s head shook, “this is my treat, I want to pay for this tonight,” he told you, handing his card across as the waitress came back over to your table. 

If he had it his way, Max would pay for you every night, he loved spoiling you and treating you whenever he could. Of course, you always tried to protest but Max would never listen, he didn’t care about the cost or what you’d been up to, he wanted it to be on him. 

“Thank you,” you told him as the waitress walked away, offering him a wide smile. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Max assured you, placing his card away safely into his wallet. 

“I do, you didn’t have to do that,” you noted, standing up from your chair, heading out of the restaurant. 

Your body tensed up as soon as you walked out into the cold air, but before you could even say anything, a jacket was draped over your shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw you shiver, immediately taking his jacket off deciding it was better use around you instead. His hand helped onto yours tightly, trying to keep you as warm as possible as you walked. 

As you got to the corner, where your apartments split, you came to a stop, leaving Max slightly ahead of you. “Where are you going?” You asked him, brows knitting together. 

“I’m walking you home, where do you think I’m going?” Max responded, staring back at you as if the answer was obvious. The stars were out and there was a bitterness in the air, there was no way that Max was ever going to let you walk home by yourself. 

Before you could reply, he took your hand and carried on walking beside you, listening to your ramblings next to him. He knew the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, once again keeping you away from the traffic as he made sure you got home safe. 

Max came with you all the way into your apartment block, up the elevator and to the front door. You knew he wasn’t expecting to come in, all he wanted was to see for himself you going through that front door so that he could go home and make sure nothing could hurt you. 

When you opened the door, you spun on your heels to face him, unable to hide the smile that was on your face. “Thank you for being such a gent tonight,” you told him. 

The corners of Max’s smile turned up, “I wasn’t doing anything, just being a good boyfriend,” he mused, unaware of all those little things that you’d spotted throughout the night. 

You knew that Max was never going to take the credit, even if he was aware of how well he treated you. He didn’t need appreciation for it because it was just him, it was what he did, it was because of how strongly he felt about you that made it all come naturally to him.  

“You have to call me when you get home,” you told Max, passing his coat back to him to keep him warm on his journey home. 

He raised an eyebrow back at him, “that’s the sort of thing that I say to you, you can’t start stealing my lines.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because that’s what I say to look after you,” he chuckled, watching as your head shook back in reply to him. 

You leant your head against the door frame, “I’m allowed to look after you too. A world-famous driver walking the busy streets of Monaco, who knows what might happen.” 

“I reckon I might be alright,” Max grinned, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping further away from your door. He could feel your eyes narrowing on him, unable to hide his smile. 

“Call me,” you shouted as he walked around the corner, out of sight and heading for home. 

You could hear him scoff as he disappeared, knowing exactly what Max was like. However, for all the little things he did for you, you wanted to do the exact same thing for him too. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[buttercuparry]

It is deeply sickening how even privacy has become a luxury for palestinians who are fundraising on this website. Since October 7th, Gazans have had to document their own genocide at great cost to themselves for no fault of their own;  they have had to risk their lives to show you the bombings; they have had to record themselves bleeding. 

They have had to show the tremendous personal loss they have suffered and their grief of it - all so that the Zionist narrative wouldn't be the only thing that gets peddled around in the digital space. But it seems like the more the months pass, and the atrocities keep mounting - the more people in the online space become desensitized to the suffering, and in fact are convinced that they are owed these documentation to even begin to care ( it has become especially clear after the recent smear campaign that put the entire demographic under horrible scrutiny ). 

It is honestly so disgustingly voyeuristic to me- this demand to be allowed into someone’s grief so that you can be convinced that they too are of flesh and blood, to demand that they put their suffering on display for your judgement on their authenticity, to put the burden on THEM to do the work of breaking you out of your easy apathy towards their suffering.

For months, my friend Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) has tried to protect his and his family’s privacy. For months he has talked of Gaza and given you updates as is his capacity as a journalist. He thought that this would be enough for the people to understand just how much his family has to fight everyday to survive. But it seems like that didn't really cut it for a lot of users on tumblr, because his fundraiser stagnates every 12 hours when his updates stop circulating around tumblr. 

So as much as it pains him to share this with an apathetic audience that may very well scroll past this post- he has agreed to talk a bit about his precious son, Amir, who has fallen sick with an infectious skin disease. 

So don't you dare ignore this!!

You have demanded that Siraj perform; that he prove that he is a real person with a real family to protect- so here is Siraj with a story about his son. It is a reflection of how desperate he feels to willingly give up the privacy he fought to protect for months. So you better pay attention now!

Siraj's son Amir is a stubborn boy. It is impossible to move him from his position once he is convinced of something. This also makes him competitive and Siraj is proud to say that Amir had been on his school’s swimming team. “First level in the swimming course,” Siraj tells me with obvious pride. Amir has an exceptional ability to memorize too- quickly moving through his lessons and thus almost always having a place in the school celebrations of outstanding students. 

Amir is stubbornly kind too. Amidst the bombings - this little boy didn't think of only saving himself. He carried his cat Jimmy all the way from the North of Gaza to the South. In Siraj’s words: He did not leave Jimmy for a moment, not even to take his shoes off, when it tore after hours of walking. 

The two month old cat died a month into their displacement - with no food available, Amir had to watch his beloved pet waste away, desperate and yet unable to help in anyway. Tell me now, is this horrifying tidbit sufficient documentation of Amir’s unchilding? Is this enough? 

Or do you also want to know of the shock Amir received on learning that his cousins have been martyred? Will you make Siraj describe this in all of its horrifying detail too? How his child has lost so much of his childhood to this war when he should be studying, going to school, and playing with his brothers and friends instead?

Their books, their school, their pet, their toys have all been lost in this genocide. Do they have to lay out all the indignities they are facing at your feet, do they have to lose the litle privacy they have left in that cramped, pest-ridden tent of theirs to convince you to not turn the other way?

Tell me what will finally be enough to make you pay attention?? What would be enough to convince you that Siraj’s survival fund is as much an emergency as all the other evacuation funds ?? I will ask him to share and we can all lay it out for you, because apparently some of you need a record of all that suffering presented to you like its a portfolio to give a fuck.

Siraj is tired, his wife Halima is too. Amir and his siblings have lost so much of themselves during these past 10 months. None of them are the people they used to be, and it is something they will carry for the rest of their lives!!

So please!

Please if Siraj has performed enough for you, then fucking donate to his campaign.

He has been fundraising from June!!! He has talked to hundreds of people and has bonded with enough of them to be considered a personal friend of theirs. Many have even agreed to share his story and many others have offered to hold commissions and raffles for him- but despite this, he still hasn't even crossed the halfway mark of his campaign yet!! What can a handful of friends do? When the mass of tumblr population isn't convinced of his suffering!

Amir is in constant pain right now due to the infection- and his brothers are beginning to show similar symptoms as him. They are all very unwell. 

The money would go to helping Amir and his brothers survive!!

I can't tell you how frustrating it is to see this everyday when i personally know just how much Siraj sacrifices to make his presence known here- from braving the 3km route when he can get caught in crossfire- all so that he may have a hotspot connection at an exorbitant price. It burns away the money that might have gone into acquiring food and water.

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!!

SIRAJ NEEDS TO GET TO 40K WITHIN THIS WEEK SO THAT WE CAN BEGIN TO WORK TOWARDS THE LATTER HALF OF THE CAMPAIGN.

THIS IS URGENT. SIRAJ NEEDS TO MOVE ONTO HIS NEXT GOALS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE TO GET HIS KIDS TO SAFETY!

PLEASE DONATE ANY AMOUNT YOU CAN SPARE, THIS CANNOT WAIT.

Every MINUTE, every  SECOND we delay meeting his goal, it costs siraj and his family more than some of us will ever understand.

Please help him out. It is the least we can do right now-> vetting at 219 on Hussein's spreadsheet.

[pucksandpower]

Hands On

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: celebrations after Lando’s first win get a bit hands on after he notices your obsession with a certain body part

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request

The pounding bass rumbles through the Miami club as Lando pulls you close, his arm snaked around your waist. The dim lights cast his face in chiseled shadows as he lets out a whoop of joy.

“We did it!” He yells over the music, eyes bright with elation. “My first bloody win!”

You beam up at him, heart swelling with pride. “I knew you could do it.” Standing on your tiptoes, you plant a lingering kiss on his lips, tasting the tang of celebratory champagne.

Lando grins against your mouth before reluctantly pulling back. “Let’s get a drink to toast, yeah?”

Nodding vigorously, you allow him to lead you through the crowd to the bar. Lando orders some lurid cocktails that probably cost more than an average person’s weekly grocery budget. You don’t care — tonight is for indulging.

As he hands you a glass, his calloused fingers brush yours, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice. But of course he did.

“Alright there, love?” Lando asks with an amused quirk of his brow.

You force a laugh. “Just, uh … got a chill, that’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” He gives you a look that says he’s not buying it, but allows the subject to drop for now.

The two of you migrate to a plush VIP area, sinking into the soft leather couches. Lando slings an arm around your shoulders and you snuggle into his side, basking in his warmth and earthy scent.

God, you’re so proud of him.

“To us,” Lando murmurs, clinking his glass against yours. “And many more race wins to come.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You take a sip of the violently purple concoction. It tastes like alcoholic cough syrup but you don’t care.

As the alcohol works its magic, you feel yourself relaxing further into Lando’s embrace. Your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw, the delicious smattering of faint freckles, those gloriously long lashes ...

Your gaze catches on his free hand resting on the arm of the couch. You find yourself fixating on those slender fingers, the calluses from years of clutching the steering wheel ...

“Y/N?”

You start, blinking rapidly as Lando’s voice pulls you from your trance. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“You’re staring again.” His lips quirk in that devilishly handsome half-smile.

Flushing hotly, you look anywhere but at him. Or more specifically, his hands. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you absolutely are.” Lando chuckles, low and teasing. “Go on then, what’s so fascinating?”

You squirm uncomfortably, feeling your face heat up even more. How to put this delicately ...

Apparently catching onto your distraction, Lando sits up straighter, settling his drink on the table with a muffled thunk. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I think I know.”

Before you can protest, he reaches out to gently grasp your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb strokes your flushed cheek as those clever eyes bore into yours, equal parts amused and intense.

“It’s my hands, isn’t it?” Lando murmurs, voice dropping to a low rumble that has your heart tripping in your chest. “You can’t stop staring at my hands.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but Lando’s penetrating stare has you frozen, the words sticking in your throat. Slowly, you give a tiny nod.

Lando hums in acknowledgement, the pad of his thumb still caressing your skin in a maddeningly distracting way. “They are rather nice hands, to be fair. Years of keeping a firm grip, you know?” He winks at you roguishly.

You make a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat. Goddamn him and his innuendos.

“Would you ...” Lando pauses for dramatic effect, gaze dropping to your parted lips briefly. “Like a closer look?”

Every rational neuron in your brain screams at you to say no, this is too far, you’re in public, oh god. But your desire-muddled mind doesn’t seem to be receiving those signals. Instead, you give another mute nod, feeling yourself leaning the slightest bit closer.

“Yeah?” Lando’s voice is barely more than a gravelly rumble now. “You want my hands on you, don’t you?”

You make a tiny whimpering sound of assent, mouth suddenly bone dry. Your eyes drop of their own accord to those wicked fingers, still cupping your jaw so tenderly.

Lando lets out a quiet chuckle, deliciously sinful. “How bad do you want it, baby?”

Squeezing your thighs together self-consciously, you manage a strangled, “S-So bad ...”

“Good girl.” The praise has you melting into a puddle right there on the couch.

Then, in one torturously slow movement, Lando lowers his hand from your face … trails his knuckles down the column of your neck … over the swell of your chest … all the way to the hem of your skimpy dress. He hooks a finger under the silky material, drawing it up your bare thigh with agonizing leisure.

You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation of his rough skin on your flushed flesh. Your eyelids flutter shut, every nerve ending thrumming with exquisite tension.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap back open at Lando’s commanding tone. He gazes back, brows raised in silent challenge. You force yourself to hold his searing gaze as his hand maps lazy circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Good girl,” he praises again, the words liquid sin. “Nice and relaxed for me.”

Despite the burning awareness of being in a public place, you feel yourself subconsciously parting your thighs ever-so-slightly, allowing those talented fingers higher access. Heat pools between your legs, your rapid pulse thrumming double-time.

“God, you’re so wet for me already,” Lando husks in approval. “I fucking love how worked up my hands get you.”

As those dexterous digits tease feather-light strokes over your quickly dampening underwear, you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stifle a whimper of shameless need. Every touch from him sets your body alight with feverish want.

“Shhh, inside voice, darling,” he chides quietly, humor dancing in those multicolored eyes. “Don’t want to cause a scene, do we?”

You rapidly shake your head, wholeheartedly agreeing. The last thing you need is for someone to wander over here and catch you being debauched by your boyfriend in a public place.

The thought should probably mortify you more than it does.

Lando gives you a crooked grin, like he can read your deliciously filthy thoughts. “Good girl,” he praises again, rewarding you with another teasing caress between your legs.

You suck in a shuddering breath, spine arching ever-so-slightly as Lando’s sinful fingers work their magic through the damp fabric. He knows every spot that drives you crazy, rubbing and stroking with perfect pressure until your inner muscles quiver with delirious need.

“You’re dripping for me, love,” he murmurs in a thick rumble. “Been thinking about my hands on you all night, haven’t you?”

No use denying it anymore — not with the embarrassingly loud squelches coming from between your shamelessly parted thighs. You give another frantic nod.

Lando makes a tutting sound. “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes,” you force out in a ragged whisper. Already, your breaths are coming faster, the molten coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with every deft stroke. “God, Lando, please ...”

“Since you asked so nicely ...” With those words, he slips one long finger under the sodden lace, finally making direct skin-to-skin contact with your aching heat.

You choke back a moan as he delves into your dripping folds, crooking his finger to find that spot that makes you see stars. Alternating between tight circles and firm strokes, Lando works that magic digit at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips lift shamelessly into his touch, desperate for more friction.

“So greedy,” he chides with a dark chuckle. But he acquiesces, slipping in a second finger to join the first.

You have to clamp your lips shut to muffle the broken keen that tries to escape. The stretch and burn as he scissors you open is pure bliss. Your inner walls flutter greedily around the delicious intrusion.

“Like that, baby?” Lando’s hot breath ghosts your cheek as he leans in close. “You feel so fucking good stretched around my fingers.”

You nod frantically, nails digging into the buttery leather as he starts pumping those wicked digits in a steady rhythm. Each slick thrust has your whole body tensing and the knot in your core winding ever tighter.

“You take me so well,” he praises in a hoarse rasp. “Always so tight and perfect around my cock too. Can’t wait to be buried in that sweet little pussy later.”

A broken whine escapes you at the filthy promise. Your thighs are trembling now, pleasure spiking through your veins with every curl and drag of those talented fingers. You’re quickly spiraling higher, that euphoric edge looming tantalizingly close ...

Lando’s free hand drifts up to toy with the strap of your dress, tugging it down to bare one straining nipple to the heated air of the club. He leans in to lave his tongue over the tender peak and you practically convulse in his lap. Too much, too good, you’re going to combust-

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he rumbles against your damp skin. “Let go.”

The low, commanding growl is your undoing. With a strangled cry, you shatter apart on his fingers, back arching as the pleasure crashes over you in relentless waves. It whites out your vision, every nerve ending set alight in blinding ecstasy.

You come back to reality cradled in Lando’s arms, his lips brushing reverent kisses over your damp hairline. As the pulses gradually subside, you slump bonelessly against his chest, thoroughly spent.

“That’s my good girl,” Lando murmurs, rich voice laced with smug satisfaction. He slowly retracts his drenched fingers with one final curl that has your body giving a languid shudder.

A blissed-out hum is all the response you can muster right now. Your eyelids are heavy, head swimming in that delicious post-orgasmic haze. Lando chuckles softly, tightening his embrace as he drops another kiss to your brow.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me yet, yeah? The night’s still young, love. Got plenty more celebrations planned for you ...”

***

The door to the lavish hotel suite bursts open with a bang as Lando practically shoves you through the entrance. You stumble slightly on your high heels, drunk on anticipation and champagne fumes. Before you can regain your balance, his strong hands are on you, spinning you around to pin your back against the nearest wall.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night,” Lando growls against the sensitive skin just below your ear.

You shiver at the rumbling timbre of his voice, already growing hazy with rekindled desire. “Y-You already did at the club ...”

He rewards your cheek with a teasing graze of teeth. “And you were such a good girl, taking my fingers so nicely in front of everyone.” His hips grind against yours, allowing you to feel every rigid inch of his arousal. “But now I want more. Need to be inside you properly.”

A broken whimper escapes your parted lips as Lando’s hands roam greedily over your body. You arch shamelessly into his possessive grip, craving his burning touch everywhere at once.

“Arms up,” he commands in a gravelly murmur.

You immediately comply, and he wastes no time in dragging your skimpy dress up over your head, leaving you in just a flimsy scrap of lace. His heated gaze rakes over every newly exposed inch of bare skin with undisguised hunger.

“God, look at you ...” Lando exhales a harsh curse through gritted teeth. “I swear you get more gorgeous every bloody day.”

Face flushing beneath his scorching appraisal, you resist the urge to cover yourself with your arms. You know he prefers an unobstructed view.

“Turn around,” he orders in a voice that brokers no argument. “Hands on the wall.”

You spin obediently, biting back a needy whimper as your breasts brush the cool surface. The room suddenly feels several degrees warmer from the blazing anticipation alone.

There’s a pause where you can practically sense Lando’s eyes devouring the lines and curves of your body. You fight the urge to squirm beneath his piercing scrutiny. Then his callused hands are on your hips, squeezing with delicious possessiveness as he steps in to blanket your back with his solid heat.

“Already so wet for me,” Lando observes in a rough purr, dragging your lace underwear aside to reveal your slick folds. “Seem to recall you liking a taste of your own medicine at the club, hmm?”

The tip of his index finger glides through your arousal in one torturously slow pass, gathering the evidence of your desire onto his skin. Before you can so much as draw a shaky breath, he brings that glistening digit to hover just in front of your parted lips.

“Open up, love.”

You moan softly in anticipation, obeying without hesitation. The instant his finger slides into your mouth, your eyes flutter shut in wanton bliss. Your tongue swirls around the thick digit, hungrily lapping up every last trace of your own tangy essence.

“That’s it, nice and sloppy,” Lando praises in a low, heated rumble. “Show me how much you love the way you taste on my fingers.”

Spurred on by his heated words, you begin sucking in earnest, hollowing your cheeks with shameless enthusiasm. The slick sounds of your efforts fill the air, the wet noises doing absolutely nothing to quell the rising tide of arousal between your legs.

Behind you, Lando exhales a harsh curse. “Fuck … so bloody good at that. Should’ve known you’d look perfect with my fingers in your greedy little mouth.”

A fresh gush of arousal floods your center at his filthy words of approval. You can’t help the desperate whine that vibrates around his digit as you increase your pace, desperate to drive him as crazy as he’s driving you.

“Alright, enough teasing now.” There’s the sound of a zipper rasping, then suddenly Lando’s other hand is shoving yours away from the wall and around to grasp his newly freed erection.

You moan again, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused by his boldness. He pumps his length slow and purposeful, engulfing your smaller hand with his larger one to set a languid but firm pace.

“Good girl, that’s it ...” he rasps out harshly. “Wanna feel how hard you’ve got me, baby? Aching to be inside your perfect cunt ...”

At his filthy words, your core pulses with a fresh rush of molten want. You can feel the fat head of his shaft nudging demandingly against the crease of your thigh, leaving smears of pearly fluid on your heated skin.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Lando spins you back around to face him. His eyes are blazing with dark, predatory hunger as he swiftly sheds the rest of your flimsy underwear. Then he’s hauling you up by the backs of your thighs, pinning you against the wall with his hips nestled firmly against your aching core.

“Tell me what you want,” he rumbles in a tone of deliciously wicked authority. The thick head of his erection drags through your slick folds in one maddening tease after another.

You whine high in your throat, scrabbling at his broad shoulders for purchase. “P-Please, Lando! Need you inside me ...”

“Need me to what?” He tilts his hips in a slow, torturous grind, spreading your arousal in a slick glaze. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Fuckmefuckmefuckme ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as you try to pull him closer.

Lando rewards your begging with a wolfish grin. “As you wish.”

And with one slick thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching and filling you in the most exquisite way. Twin groans echo through the suite — his a guttural growl, yours a high-pitched mewl of relief.

There’s an endless moment where you both simply still, savoring the friction of being so intimately joined. Lando’s forehead drops to your shoulder, the pair of you panting harshly against one another’s sweat-slicked skin.

Then he starts to move.

It starts with a slow roll of his hips, languid but purposeful strokes that drag his length through every last velvet inch before pulling nearly all the way out. You clutch desperately at the carved muscles of his back as he sets a relentless pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.

“So tight ...” he grits out in a gravelly burr. “Taking me so deep, god, you feel incredible...”

You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the feeling. Every nerve is alight with shuddering bliss.

Soon Lando’s lazy rhythm devolves into harsh, pounding strokes, the harsh clap of flesh on flesh echoing like thunder. The solid wall at your back provides delicious traction as your boyfriend jackhammers up into your fluttering heat with rapidly mounting frenzy.

“Yes … yesyesyes!” The breathless affirmations tear from your lips in sync with each punishing slap of his hips.

“Can hear how much you love this, getting pounded against the wall like a desperate little thing,” Lando rumbles with dark approval. “Am I hitting all those perfect spots, baby? Making that greedy cunt squeeze me so damn tight?”

“So close, so close!” You chant in a high, thready whine. Your release is rapidly building, that glorious crest just out of reach.

As if sensing your desperation, Lando shifts his grip so one hand can snake between your bodies. His clever fingers instantly find the swollen bundle of nerves at your apex and start working tight, purposeful circles with just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god ...” The frantic mantra punches from your lungs in time with his feral thrusts. You can feel yourself teetering right at that blissful precipice, every nerve pulled tourniquet-tight with impending release.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Lando coaxes in a rough growl. “Let go for me. Wanna feel you come all over my cock ...”

His filthy words are your undoing. With a sobbing cry, your vision whites out in a supernova of shattering ecstasy. Pleasure rockets through your veins in pulsing waves, every muscle locked in the most beautiful torment. Vaguely, you feel Lando snarling curses against the fevered skin of your neck as your convulsing walls grip him in scorching velvet vice.

When your senses finally begin drifting back to you, Lando is peppering your sweat-dampened face with gentle kisses. He brushes the mussed hair from your brow tenderly, eyes brimming with naked adoration.

“So perfect for me,” he murmurs in hushed reverence. “Every bloody time. Fuck, I love watching you fall apart.”

You manage a weak, boneless smile at the affectionate praise, still riding the afterglow. You feel deliciously hollowed out, pleasantly achy in all the right places. Like every muscle has turned to warm honey.

After another moment, Lando carefully lowers your trembling legs until your wobbly knees find purchase on the plush carpeting. He frames your face with those gloriously rough hands, calluses catching on the flush of your cheeks.

“That good for you, love?” He asks with a hint of gentle teasing.

“Mhmm ...” You nod drowsily, leaning into his solid palm. “S’always good with you.”

Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to power every chandelier in the lavish suite.

***

“Baby, where are you? I’m home!”

Lando’s voice rings out as the door to your shared flat opens with a muffled snick. You pause your lounging on the couch, book falling forgotten to your lap as he steps inside, hauling a discreet black bag.

“In here!” You call out with a smile, already tingling with curiosity.

He appears in the doorway, flashing you that signature crooked grin that always has your insides melting. “There’s my gorgeous girl. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

You sit up a little straighter, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Rather than answer, Lando moves to the couch and deposits the bag between you two with a heavy thunk. Your brows shoot up quizzically.

“Well someone’s being mysterious,” you tease, giving the matte exterior an experimental prod. “What’s in this, Mister Norris?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as he gestures towards the zipper pull.

Fighting a grin, you obligingly grasp the metal tab and pull, allowing the discreet covering to gape open. The first thing you register is a tangle of padded straps and buckles in sleek black leather. Then your eyes catch on the protruding shape nestled securely in the center … and you promptly choke on your own tongue.

It’s a hand. Or rather, a perfectly molded silicone model of one — every crease and callus captured in lifelike detail down to each delicate whorling fingerprint.

A whimper catches in your throat as realization slams into you with dizzying force. This hand … this hand with those long, talented fingers you’ve fantasized about more times than you can count … this hand is modeled after Lando’s.

“Oh my god ...” The words slip out in a strangled exhale. “Lando, is this ...”

His expression is carefully neutral, but the fiery glint in his eyes gives away his smug satisfaction. “You’re always going on about how much you love my hands. Figured you deserve to have the full experience whenever you want it, love.”

“I ...” Words temporarily fail you as you lift the shockingly realistic appendage free of its padded enclosure. The weight and articulation is uncanny, from the subtle flare of knuckles to the blunt tips of each digit. It’s almost unsettling how realistic it is.

You glance up to find Lando observing you with dark, hooded interest. His tongue darts out to wet his lips in a reflexive tell of arousal.

“What do you think?” He asks in a low, rough murmur. “Want to take it for a test drive?”

Heat lances straight to your core at the blatant suggestion. You reflexively squeeze the silicone digits in your grip, reveling in the slinky give and firm resistance. Already you can vividly imagine those fingers pumping into your dripping heat, stretching and stroking with that same delicious friction you’ve come to crave ...

“Y/N?” Lando’s voice pulls you from your lust-hazed daze. His eyes are blazing now, pupils blown wide. “Need you to use your words, sweetheart ...”

You make a small, needy sound as your thighs instinctively shift in subtle search of friction. “Yes … yes, I want to try it. Please ...”

That’s all the encouragement he seems to need. In the span of a heartbeat, Lando is divesting you of your thin cotton shorts and guiding your legs apart to settle between them on the couch. The hand rests heavy and solid in his palm as he holds it aloft, allowing you an unobstructed view.

You bite your lip against a whimper, already flushing with a heady cocktail of arousal and shameless anticipation. Lando’s lashes dip to half-mast as he brings the sculpted digits to his lips and lays a reverent kiss to each knuckle.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he rumbles in that low, raspy tone that never fails to have you melting. And then, with agonizing leisure, he trails the smooth pads down your chest … over the soft swell of your stomach … through the damp thatch of curls at your apex ...

A gasp punches from your lungs at the first glancing stroke against your folds. This may be an inanimate object, but its perfected shape coupled with Lando’s practiced touch feels so exquisitely familiar. Like the real thing is finally breaching that aching place inside you ...

“Bloody hell, you’re already dripping,” Lando observes in a rough growl. The flexed digits slide through your arousal in one slick pass, gathering your essence onto the sleek silicone. “Is this what you were thinking about, love? Having my fingers buried knuckle-deep in that greedy little cunt?”

You can only whimper and nod frantically as he draws tantalizingly close again. That unhurried brush of solid firmness against your most sensitive flesh already has your inner muscles fluttering desperately.

“Tell me what you want,” Lando rumbles in a tone of smoldering command. Those clever fingers circle your aching entrance, spreading your slick arousal in a torturous tease.

“T-The hand,” you stammer out in a pitchy whine. “Lando, please ... I need it i-inside me ...”

A wolfish grin curves his lips as he rewards your obedience with a searing kiss. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are blazing with liquid smoke.

“As you wish.”

Then Lando is tipping the toy at just the right angle to catch on your swollen entrance. With one smooth, purposeful thrust, he sheaths every last inch to the knuckle root inside your clenching heat.

The fullness is glorious, that solid silicone bulk stretching you wide in the most delicious way. Every delicate ridge and contour drags against your velvet walls with maddening friction with the slightest movement.

“Fuck ...” Lando practically snarls the curse through gritted teeth as he begins pumping the toy in a slow, purposeful rhythm. “So goddamn hot seeing you grip it like this, baby … squeezing so perfectly tight.”

You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation. With each careful stroke, Lando angles the silicone fingers to create a firm nudge against that spongy cluster of nerves. Jolts of electricity hoot up your spine until you’re shuddering and whimpering.

“There you are ...” Lando’s voice is a rumbling growl of smug satisfaction as he locates that magic spot. “Squirming like a desperate little thing on my hand.”

To punctuate his words, he rotates his wrist with a purposeful flex of hard knuckles against your tender front wall. The exquisite pressure has your hips jerking upward in a helpless spasm, eyes flying open to lock gazes with your wickedly grinning boyfriend.

“Like that, do you?” He husks, lips brushing your cheek. “Never seen you make noises like this before. So hungry for my fingers buried deep...”

As if to emphasize the slick sounds already filling the air, Lando picks up the tempo of his thrusts in rapid, punishing strokes. The squelches are more erotic than anything you’ve ever heard as he rails you open on that delightfully thick silicone.

“Oh god, oh g-god ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as white sparks begin bursting across your vision.

“Let it happen, baby,” he coaxes. “Need to see those gorgeous walls fluttering when you come ...”

With a startled cry, your spine bows off the cushions as your long-awaited climax finally detonates. Searing pleasure lances through every nerve ending in tsunami waves. You’re vaguely aware of choking out Lando’s name over and over in a breathless keen, your inner muscles flexing uselessly around the thick silicone toy.

When you finally drift back down, it’s to the feeling of damp hair being brushed from your brow. You blink blearily to find Lando gazing down at you with naked awe and unguarded adoration.

“You’re a vision like this,” he murmurs reverently. The hand-shaped toy is finally, carefully extracted with a slick sucking sound that has you flushing. “So beautifully ruined all because of my hand ...”

In a tender gesture, Lando cradles the back of your skull and brings the glistening silicone digits to your parted lips. The clean, musky tang of your own arousal coats every contour.

“Clean it up, love,” he commands. “Know how much you love the taste ...”

You moan faintly at the filthy demand, feeling a fresh slick of heat pooling between your legs. But there’s no way you can deny him this or yourself the heady intimacy of such an act. So with hooded lashes, you obediently part your lips and take those thick fingers onto your awaiting tongue.

Lando’s low groan of approval vibrates through your very bones as you seal your lips in a tight ‘O’ and suck with wanton fervor. The harsh breaths punching from his lungs spur you on, swirling your tongue over every crease and imprint hungrily.

“So fuckiny gorgeous,” he grits out in a tone of strained reverence. “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”

As if to emphasize his words, Lando shifts position — and you suddenly become aware of the painfully rigid line of his erection pressing against your hip. With a needy whine, you instinctively grind up against that hot, insistent length through the thin barrier of his athletic shorts.

Your boyfriend’s lashes flutter as he bites back a growl. “Easy there, minx. You’re going to get me inside you soon enough.” He nips sharply at the bolt of your jaw, silicone fingers still working your slack mouth in shallow thrusts. “But first I want to watch you come apart on the real thing one more time ...”

A full-bodied shudder races through you at the dark promise underlining his words. With a pitchy sound of submission, you allow your heavy eyelids to slip shut and your jaw to unhinge obediently around the thoroughly used toy.

Every expert curl and flick of those clever digits is centered on the singular goal of dismantling you again. You’re powerless to resist, simply allowing the heady l sensations to crest higher and higher. Lando’s hoarse rumbles of encouragement cradle you, pushing you higher until you finally shatter into sublime oblivion once more.

And fuck, you love it when Lando’s hands on.

[abxtchbetired]

seven deadly sins headcanons

because i'm tired of sinday memes being all about sex. send a category + a number. warning: some of the questions in the lust section are nsft. that's why it's at the bottom.

gluttony - - -

what could your muse eat all the time without ever getting tired of it?

a feast of all your muse's favorite foods is laid out in front of them. what's on the menu?

is your muse the type to leave the last bit of food for someone else, or to take it for themselves before someone else can claim it?

does your muse frequently overeat?

does your muse go back for seconds? thirds? fourths?

how many meals and snacks does your muse eat in a day?

what are your muse's go-to beverages?

does your muse drink enough water?

does your muse drink many sugary drinks, like soda or juice?

is your muse a heavy (alcohol) drinker? if so, what do they drink? in what situations do they drink? do they know their limits? do they stop at their limit, or go past it?

is your muse addicted to caffeine? if so, what is their preferred caffeinated beverage?

does your muse have a sweet tooth?

greed - - -

what does your muse collect, if anything?

is your muse prone to hoarding anything?

what is your muse's financial situation? what are their financial goals?

is money important to your muse? why or why not?

how much money does your muse keep in their checking account at any given time? if your muse keeps cash, how much do they usually have in their wallet? does your muse carry coins around? what is the limit on their credit card, if they have one? do they have multiple credit cards?

does your muse have good savings habits? how much do they currently have saved up?

is your muse prone to shopping sprees? if so, what do they usually indulge in buying?

is your muse in debt? if so, are they managing it well, or are they struggling?

would your muse throw others under the bus/step on others if it meant they could find more success/make more money?

would your muse steal anything?

wrath - - -

does your muse like to get revenge on those they feel have wronged them?

how does your muse handle anger? do they have anger issues? how do they manage or vent their anger?

does your muse believe in karma?

did your muse get into fights as a kid? do they get into fights as an adult? if your muse never got into fights before, would they in the name of self defense?

what, if anything, provokes your muse to violence?

does your muse believe that violence can solve some problems? or are they more a "violence is never the answer" type? somewhere in-between?

does your muse destroy things for fun, or to let off steam?

was your muse a bully? or were they bullied themselves?

has your muse ever considered murdering someone? or have they actually gone through with murdering someone?

does your muse enjoy hurting others, whether it be physically or emotionally?

pride - - -

does your muse believe they are the best at everything, even if that belief is unwarranted?

in what areas might your muse be a little overconfident? are they overconfident in the sense that they don't have the skills to back it up, or in the sense that they do have the skills but they are obnoxious in their confidence?

does your muse accept responsibility for their actions when they have done something wrong?

is your muse comfortable with apologizing to others?

does your muse feel remorse? if so, how do they express it?

has your muse every blown off preparing for something because they were confident they could complete the task without preparation? if so, what was the situation?

is your muse prone to bragging? what do they brag about?

does your muse look down on others they perceive as being "not as good" at things as they are?

sloth - - -

on what day(s) does your muse feel most lazy? at a specific time of day, or all day?

is your muse prone to procrastination?

what chores/responsibilities does your muse avoid doing at all costs?

how many hours of sleep does your muse get? do they feel rested after, or are they still tired?

once your muse gets started doing something important, do they drag their feet, take many breaks, and ultimately prolong the task? or do they work as quickly as possible, at the sacrifice of a quality job? or do they work efficiently without sacrificing quality?

does your muse put on real clothes every day, or only if they have to go out?

if your muse could get away with wearing pajamas all day every day, would they?

does your muse complain about responsibilities a lot?

is your muse the type to get up on time on their own or with an alarm? are they the type to hit snooze over and over?

envy - - -

does your muse get jealous easily, or does it take a lot for them to feel it?

what kinds of things does your muse get jealous about?

does your muse compare themselves to others often? if so, how does it affect them?

lust - - -

is your muse sexually active? if so, how often do they have sex? how many partners do they typically have at one time? if not, why not?

what is your muse's sexuality? if asexual, are they sex favorable, sex indifferent, or sex repulsed?

is your muse vanilla, or are they kinky? if kinky, what are their top three kinks, and why do they like them? if vanilla, what position(s) does your muse have sex in?

what sex-related words turn your muse on? what words make them cringe?

does your muse masturbate? if so, how often, and how do they get themselves off? if not, why not?

does your muse have high, medium, or low libido?

is sex compatibility a dealbreaker for your muse in a relationship? why or why not?

how does your muse feel about one-night-stands?

what was your muse's first time having sex like? who was it with, why did they choose that person, where did it take place, how old were they, and what happened?

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[sweetinsaniiity]

My Life For Hire

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - frat boy!san x college!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - switched bodies!, plot with smut, cursing, betrayal, enemies-to-lovers, semi-funny, San is an !ass, but so are you, bickering while having sex, love-making, sweet sex (no rough fucking this time, ya nasty people), blowjob, name-saying kink, permission-asking, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!)◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, mentions of extreme violence, childhood abuse, body disfigurement (via burn marks), fighting scene ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 18.1K (+ bonus scene!) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Choi San was a man you harbor great loathing for. He betrayed you out of nowhere, and it cost you your whole life. You were ready to hate him for the rest of your life, until both of you were forced to work together after switching bodies, and then San claims he never betrayed you. How long will you pretend to be each other until you two get caught? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello again <3 I wanted to publish this sooner but I wasn't feeling well so I had to take a bit of a break. This is definitely not my best work since this genre isn't my strongest suit. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from A Day To Remember ◄

"So is anyone attending that party at the frat boys' dorms?"

I took a deep breath through my nose, hoping that the gesture would calm me down and not let my frustrations get the best of me.

Hyolyn, a close friend of mine, latches on my arm. "Our Y/N works a little too hard," she pouted. "You should come with us."

"You know I can't," I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to either, my finals are around the corner and I can't slack off."

Of course I wanted to go, just like the other normal people my age, and in college, no less. I wasn't the studious type nor was I someone who cared too much if my grades tanked, but I do want to graduate at least.

The cafeteria wasn't the ideal place for me to glance at my notes every now and then, but hey, the sooner I finish this, the sooner my life gets a bit easier and smooth sailing after.

"Ugh, can't they keep it down?" another friend of mine, Seolhyun, grumbled. She was the pretty but nerdy type, it made her charming. "I'm trying to study here, Professor Byun will literally fail me..."

I took an apprehensive glance at the far corner of the college cafeteria, and I couldn't help but be annoyed as well, and soon it became even rowdier when this particular group strolls in and creates more noise pollution.

"You fuckers be ready for the party tonight!"

"Beer pong anyone?"

"Everyone better attend and be ready to fuck things up!”

They were Ateez, a bunch of immature frat boys that took pride in annoying the living daylights out of everybody they encountered. They were loud, boisterous, and rambunctious.

I tried to get back at my sad excuse of a lunch - by that, I meant soggy veggies, gamey meat, cold soup, go figure - and my boring class notes, but the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. That's how I knew someone was watching me.

And I was right, someone was, or rather, someone was murdering me with their eyes.

Choi San.

He was seated at the far corner of the cafeteria along with the rest of cronies, leaned back a little comfortably on his chair with his arms crossed, and glaring at me with such intensity, and not participating at the rowdiness of Ateez.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I stared angrily.

He seemed to get the message. He shrugged his shoulders and glared harder. "What are you looking at?" he scowled.

I scoffed, the grimace clear on my face. "Can you guys keep it the hell down?" I mouthed at him wryly.

I gripped my pen so tight in my hand I'm surprised it didn't snap off. Oh, how I wanted to rip that menacing smirk off of his face. "What are you going to do about it?"

I stared at the way he licked his bottom lip then poked his cheek with the same tongue. He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for the comeback that I always delivered to him, but not today, Satan. He looked at me with so much contempt, I was forced to look away.

"Guys, I have to go," I packed my stuff hurriedly in my satchel with a tight smile. I heard my friends complain under their breaths, I can't tell them but that the reason is that, mainly, I was avoiding San. 

He was still staring at me with that nasty smirk he's always had. I had to resist the urge to march over to him and gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Staring became our only form of communication for a couple of years now. It was a contest between us, and winning came with a reward - the satisfaction of seeing one of us falter. 

San tilted his head curiously as he watched me pack my things. His eyes were unblinking, they were harsh enough to see directly right through me. Perhaps it was the way he looked at me that gave his intentions away.

I wasn't going to give in to him. I sneered at him, unwavering as I slowly walked towards the cafeteria's exit.

I grimaced when I realized I had to pass him in order to do so. Curse him, I thought bitterly. I'm fine, I just have to ignore him---

"Oh, oh, oh no," I panicked when I accidentally tripped on something and began falling straight to the ground face down.

This was it, the end of my social life, and the end of my reputation. 

"Careful. You don’t want to fall on your face, do you?"

This was my nightmare personified - tripping and falling directly in San's arms. I sighed deeply, forcing myself to look at him as he held my waist a little too tight for my liking.

"Unhand me, you swine," I hissed, grabbing onto his arm and pushing it away. 

San clicked his tongue mockingly. "I help and this is what I get in return? You wound me." He leaned close to my ear and whispered something soft enough for only the both of us to hear. "I get it. You've always acted like you have a stick up your ass."

I scoffed blaringly loud enough to catch pretty much everybody's attention. It was embarrassing, but my anger towards San prevailed.

"I'm sorry, were you dropped on your head as an infant?" I snapped. "Or were you just born stupid?"

Ohhs and a couple of laughs were heard across the cafeteria. His friends stared at us in amusement. San had a devilish grin on his face, but I knew him. The way his eyes glinted with something dangerous - he was angry.

"This isn't over," he growled lowly.

With that, I turned away from and left not only the cafeteria, but the university in general to head back to my dormitory. San always bought out the demon in me, and I was exhausted.

In the end, I decided to go to that party, even though one of his frat buddies, either Wooyoung or Mingi, hosted it. Needless to say, Hyolyn and Seolhyun were over the moon. I decided to get ready the moment the sun went down.

"You fool," I muttered, staring at the picture frame I always had on my table. I paused from getting ready and stared at it for a while.

It was San and me, grinning widely at the camera without a care around us. One glance and it was like we were in high school again, before all the dumb decisions and before we both drifted apart.

It's been four years since then and I will never get over the loss.

The party was unfortunately a blast. As much as I disliked San and his cronies, they sure knew how to throw a good one. The mingling bodies made it a little difficult for me to move around.

"Having fun?!" a boy in my class, Haechan, raised his voice so I could hear him from the loud music.

"Sort of!" I laughed loudly.

I was loosening up, maybe it was the alcohol, but nonetheless I moved my body to the rhythm of the songs that played in the background, chugging my beer from time to time. It was honestly fun, I haven't really gone much because I really did try to concentrate on my studies.

Suddenly, someone hastily grabbed my beer cup and sloshed it on the floor. "Hey!" I shouted.

I was being dragged roughly across the room, through the sea of drunk people and vomit, outside the house the party was. I groaned when I was harshly shoved against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I laughed contemptuously at San's pissed off face. "What?" I scorned. "I can't attend parties anytime I want now?"

San looked royally pissed. He had always been the intimidating bastard, and he'd always hated the disrespect I gave him.

"You?" San sneered. "You hate parties. Did you come here to embarrass me further? Haven't you had enough?"

My heart suddenly hurt as I stared at San's disdain, and I mourned the loss of my best friend all over again. We were everything to each other, until we just weren't.

San's eyes softened, and they mirrored the same loss I mourned for. It was always like this.

My eyes flashed with anger, I glared at him and showed him how mad I was. "Get off your high horse, Choi San. I'm not the same person I was years ago."

Something cold crossed over his face; touched the corners of his eyes and glossed over them like sharp winter frost. He let out a snort, but chose not to reply. He behaved like always until it made me crack.

I was angry and frustrated that he ruined my mood, and I was getting back at him for this. “Your group of bastards irritate me, you know?"

San laughed and shook his head. “Bastards like us are born out of passion, aren’t we? We are everywhere,” he jeered.

I smirked. He always hated it when I talked shit about Ateez. “I can’t say I particularly hate your little group—“

“No? How tolerant of you.”

“—-just you, San.”

San stares at me. “You hate me that much, Y/N?"

No, I thought, I hate them from stealing you away from me and you for going along with them.

“Yes.”

His brows shot up with the revelation and I stared at him with my heart racing. I haven't been this close to him in years. I scrutinized him - he was the most handsome in my eyes, but now more so that he'd matured. One thing that never changed was he always dyed a section of his hair blonde.

I hated that piece of hair. It always garnered him the attention he never deserved.

A searing smile curled at his lips and he chuckled in amusement. "I suppose the feeling is mutual," he smirked. "You feel tough because of your boy toy, what's his name? Jaemin?"

"That's none of your business," I gritted my teeth. I was pissed, Jaemin has been nothing but good to me.

He sneered at my annoyed stance. "Are you fucking him?"

"No!" I denied faster than I'd like. I rapidly shook my head at his accusation. Embarrassed, I tried to avert my eyes from him.

San chuckled lowly. "Go home," he said, but it sounded like a threat.

"Careful now," I chuckled without humour. "People are going to think we like each other if you keep cornering me like this."

Sans arched a brow at my defiance. He clenched his jaw, the irritation slowly getting to him. "Why?" he sneered. His fingers mockingly brushed against my arm. "You like playing hard to get?"

"Ugh! You are insufferable!"

"And you are a feisty little bitch," he snapped.

"Are you fucking serious?" I cursed, moving slightly to try and get away from his presence. "You're the absolute worst, I swear to God."

"I wish I gave a fuck," he sighed with a mocking laugh. 

I was about to retort something dumb, something so stupid he'll have no choice but to let me go, when the loud cracking of the thunder interrupted us. It amplified the rain that accompanied me and San's childish argument.

Taking the chance, I pushed him off and tried to storm off in the rain to my car. I wasn't in the mood to party anymore. "Let me go," I said firmly when San stopped me by holding onto my arm.

"Don't be a kid," he rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to see you drenched and suffering, wait the rain out for a little, then you can fuck off."

I angrily shook my arms off of his grip. "Talk to the wall," I hissed.

"I'm serious, it's slippery out there," he nagged, following me when I began to walk off, but hesitating when the rain hit him. "Come on now, Y/N."

I flipped him off. I noticed his eyes grow dark, I recoiled a bit, but chose to go on. The rain was strong, but I managed to walk off, and then the inevitable slipping that San had warned me about came in time when I accidentally stepped on mushy grass.

I screamed, flailing my arms stupidly like it would break the fall, and break it did. Except that the real reason was because a pair of arms had broken my fall.

I stared at San's wet form holding me. "Are you okay--" he began speaking, but he too, had fallen victim to the slippery slope we were in.

I cursed as we both tumbled along and San let out this guttural groan when I fell directly on top of him. I didn't register it at first, but I felt something very soft land on my face...

"Mmph!" I whimpered. To be specific, something on my lips.

San and I looked at each other wide eyed, not moving as we were too shocked to do so when we realized that our lips had met.

Then came that dizzying sensation I had never, ever felt before in my entire life when San pulled away in daze. Before I could even register the fact that San and I basically kissed, albeit by accident, I started to lose consciousness.

"You're so disgusting you literally make me sick with a single kiss,"San slurred, his eyes slowly fluttering close like mine as he held onto me tightly.

I buried myself in San's arms, scared and confused to what was suddenly to the both of us. Did someone spike the drinks?

"Likewise," was the last thing I blurted out before both him and I slumped on the ground as the world started disappearing from both of us and fainting.

There was nothing, for a moment, at least.

And then it came, in the darkness, that wonderful dream I loved dreaming about. I dreamt about it so much that I subconsciously knew I was dreaming.

The vibrant, hectic space was bursting into life. To my right, the espresso machine sputtered slowly, its sounds resonating through the air, every now and then pausing to gasp some air whilst liquid gold flowed down to be served into a cup.

"A cappuccino for you, my lady," San teased as he gave me my cup and then sat opposite to me. "And a latte for me."

It was a beautiful summer bloom, with the busy college applications looming over us. I'm surprised that San and I even had time to hang out.

"Are you really coming with me?" I frowned. "You don't have to, Sannie. I can always visit you overseas, you know that."

San clicked his tongue. "That won't be necessary," he smiled, that cute dimple he had popping out from his cheeks. "I already rejected the offer, we'll be in the same college."

Guilt crept its way into my heart at San's excited stance, and of course, he takes notice. He grabs my hand and massages it gently.

"I'm serious, Y/N, it's okay. I'd rather be with you than be alone somewhere else," he said. "I...don't think I can live without you there."

I bit my lip apprehensively. "I don't want you to give up your dreams because of me," I whispered.

He shook his head. "I'm not," he assured. "What's the point of achieving them if I'm without you?"

"What am I going to do with you, Sannie?" I giggled.

I'd loved him the most when he did the thing - dancing - he was most absolutely passionate about. It was when his eyes twinkle despite the absence of emotion on his face. They were alive in the lights, burning with the motivation to succeed as if he has been through so much and more. 

And when he glances at me the same way, it was when I felt loved the most.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my breathing laboured and intensive. Fresh tears started to well up in the corners of my eyes at that dream, for it was the last time I would ever call San my best friend.

Or rather, the love of my life.

I laughed bitterly to myself. That ship sailed a long, long time ago. At this point, I was in love with the memory of how he used to be - the sweetest, kindest man. Now he's just a cocky douchebag.

I sat up on the bed, and it was when I realized that I was in an unfamiliar room. I looked around, my heart beating a little too fast for my liking, and my head pounding really, really bad. 

Odd, I thought. I'm not a lightweight, this can't be a hangover.

I panicked when I heard the bedroom door jiggle and a voice rang from the outside. "San, are you awake?"

I screamed bloody murder when the door opened and tried to cover myself up. I cannot be seen dead or alive within a ten mile radius with San. "Ahh!"

"Ahhh!" the other person screamed as well.

"Ahhh!" I screamed back.

"Ahh! Why the fuck are you screaming, San?! God, my ears are busted..."

San? I gritted my teeth in annoyance under the blankets. Why wasn't he saying anything? I swear if I get my hands on him I will wring his neck.

"San? Are you okay?"

I paled when I felt the blanket suddenly pried from me. All the excuses and scenarios in my mind on how to excuse myself and maybe bribe this man into not telling anyone I was in San's bedroom. 

But nothing. The person that took the blanket away from me was none other than Jung Wooyoung, San's closest friend. The familiarity in his eyes when he looked at me was creeping me out a bit. Or maybe he was just used to San having women over. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Get up, man. It's almost 10, I saved you some food earlier," Wooyoung spoke, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't reply, he frowned and touched my forehead. "You okay? You look sick."

I recoiled from his touch, and his frown turned deeper. "A-Are you talking to me?" I asked, squeaking pathetically when I realized that my voice wasn't my voice.

It was deep, rich, and it sounded a whole like San's.

Wooyoung cackled loudly. "Are you still drunk?" he jokingly hits my shoulders. "Unless there's another San in the room, then yeah, I'm talking to you."

An oncoming panic attack makes my heart beat erratically, the fear automatically bombarding my brain. The intense worry was overriding the rational part of my brain, not that there was anything rational about this. 

I slapped myself hard, hoping to wake from this nightmare that I was in, but nothing. Wooyoung stares at me like I grew two heads. "Yeah, you're definitely still drunk," he mumbled.

When Wooyoung left the room, I got out of the bed so quickly that the blood rushed to my head fast and rendered me dizzy, but I didn't care. I ran to the big mirror at the corner of the room and stared at myself - or San.

"No, there is no goddamn way, this cannot be real," I muttered to myself, the mania and craze scattering my thoughts and making it impossible for me to think. "Oh my God, what the hell did I do wrong to deserve this?!"

Broad frame, toned arms and chest, almond-shaped eyes, white-stripped bangs, this was San. I brought my hand to touch my face, it was smooth, something I knew my skin wasn't. When I waved my hand dumbly in front of the mirror, I yelped when San's reflection looked back at me and did the exact same thing.

But wait, if I now San, where is the real San?

"I'll be right back!" I screamed at nobody in particular, trying very hard to appear normal when I rushed downstairs, tripping on a few steps, with a newfound vigor. The blush on my cheeks were still evident when I changed into San's clothes with my eyes closed.

It was hard because I would sweat when I'd accidentally touch what technically was his skin, but I can't just panic and mope around doing nothing. I have to find my own body.

"Ya! Don't slam the damn door!" I heard someone scream when I hurriedly ran out of the Alpha Tau Zeta frat house. It was probably Park Seonghwa. Rumour has it that he was a neat and clean freak.

I stumbled like a fool as I speed walked my way towards my own dorm house where hopefully San with my body was in. I cursed under my breath when I tripped again, barely catching myself. Curse San and how big he is!

How did this happen though? Was magic a real thing in this life all along? It didn't make sense, what kind of sick God was playing with our fates like this?

With no time to lose, I opted to jog and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized how easy it was to jog right now. But it wasn't me, San's body was the one with the insane stamina and strength to do so.

When I reached my dorm all the way to the end of the campus, I wasn't even panting or sweating. As I tried to make my way inside, the friendly security guard stopped me from walking further. It was something I appreciated living here, the safe security, but now I'm a little annoyed about it.

"Your name and who are you visiting?" the guard asked.

I cleared my throat apprehensively. "Y/N, ah, m-my name is Choi San and I'm visiting L/N Y/N."

It unnerved me to hear myself - San - talk and it was even more unnerving not to say my own name and use San's right now.

"Nope," the guard shook his head. "Miss Y/N did not put your name as a legal visitor for her."

It took a lot in me not to snort loudly in contempt. Of course I would never put San's name down. I never wanted to see his face near me ever again when I started living here.

I was about to appeal and try to sneak away, when I saw a familiar form by the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw myself seething and shaking with anger. Is that what I look like when I glare at San? I suppose no wonder he hates me.

"You," I hissed. I cringed when San stared back at me, maybe my face and body, but those eyes belong to San. It's definitely him in my body.

I marched over to him, ignoring the protests of the guard and dragged him into my room in a hurry, not caring if we both looked weird.

"Can you not treat me like a ragdoll? You're hurting me!" San barked, but not doing anything but following. It was weird hearing my own voice talk to me like this.

"Ah," I uttered sarcastically. "Now you know what I feel like when I tell you."

San glares at me and I had this urge to just submit, but I carry on. "Don't be a pussy, San."

It was true. San had a habit of grabbing onto my arm when he wanted something, especially now that his only goal in life was to drive me to my grave.

While me and San - or more like, San and me - were having the death march towards my room, the uncomfortable stares of the people we passed were undeniable. Everybody knew San and I hated each other, it wasn't necessarily a secret, so seeing us together was such a treat. 

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Sometimes I forget how shallow people can get. Is this the fame that San got everyday? Every stare was a mixture of confusion, awe, and lust.

"You can't just go out like this!" I screamed at a confused San when I closed the door behind me.

"Like what?" he asked. God, it felt weird to hear myself like that.

"That!" I incredulously said, hastily pointing at the nightgown San currently had on me. "You're basically naked, I'm basically naked!"

San rolled his eyes, plopping on my bed with a heaviness that annoyed me. "I tried putting on a bra," he mumbled, his ears red with embarrassment. "Don't look at me like that, I swear I did! How the hell do you women live with that thing? I couldn't breathe!"

I stared at him wide-eyed, a sudden thought infiltrating my mind and making me extremely nervous. "Did you, uhm," I stammered ridiculously. San lifted a brow to stare at me. "Did you look?"

He was confused at first, but when the realization dawned on him, his face reddened too. "No!" San boomed, clearly flustered at the accusation. I deadpanned at him. It was so fascinating.

"Contrary to your popular belief, I'm not like that," he scoffed, staring straight into me. "And you know it. I could say the same to you, though."

It was my turn to scoff at his ludicrousness. "Please," I sneered. "The little worm between your legs isn't even worth snooping at."

San crossed his arms with a dirty smirk on his face. "I suppose that's how I know you didn't look."

"Wha--oh," I faltered when I realized what he was talking about. He cackled when I threw a pillow at him. "You're disgusting," I spat. 

Everything dawns on me all once now that we've talked a little and are in the comfort of my own room. Thank the Gods I insisted on having my own back then, or this would've been more of a nightmare than it already was. 

We didn't say a word to each for a moment, lost in the discernment that we had actually really been switched - that this wasn't a joke and something had happened between us that we had no idea about.

I swallowed the lump that began to form in my throat. What if this was permanent? This could potentially destroy my life, and as much as I am upset with San, I don't wish to ruin his life, either.

I gasped softly when I felt my hand being massaged softly. "Calm down," San murmured. "We'll figure it out."

What was supposed to be relaxing, turned out to be nauseating for me. It's been so long and he still remembers what calms me down.

"This place is surprisingly nice," he said, looking around my room. "Who's paying the rent?"

"I am," I shrugged.

His grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly. "Your mom doesn't?" San asked in contempt.

I looked at him through his narrowed eyes. I can tell that there was no malicious intent behind the question, rather, he was sad. My chest pangs, it had that angst we both had when we were younger.

"As if," I scoffed weakly. "You know how it is, San..."

His eyes switched gears from contempt to cold anger that wasn't necessarily directed towards me. "Mark my words," he snarled. "One day, I will scrap that stepfather of yours, I swear to God, I'm going to--"

"You will do no such thing," I hissed angrily. "And how? Look at us, we're not in our real bodies right now! I don't know if it isn't obvious enough, but I'm not exactly the strongest bunch out there."

"That's not true," San dismisses.

"You don't get it do you? I'm so frustrated and I want to pound my hands on the floor like a toddler!"

"I get it, Y/N--"

"And it had to be you of all people! God, it's so easy to be cruel with you right now but I'm not like you---"

"Can you just shut your trap for once and let me think of what's happening?" San snapped, letting my hand go roughly. 

In my panic, a stupid idea pops in my head. "It was the kiss wasn't it?" I blurted out. I grabbed his (my) shoulders frantically. "We can just kiss again and it will undo itself!"

His eyes widened comically when I leaned down and crashed my lips against his. When nothing happens, I kiss him over and over again, until he pushes me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" San squeaked. It dawned on me what I had just done and I blush hard. The only time I got to kiss San was when I did it myself from his body. What a sad way to live.

"You act like I wanted to do that," I fretted, trying to change the topic. My brain exploded when I saw him lick his lips slowly and his throat bob up when he swallowed. "That's your brain thinking for you, really? N-Not that you ever used it," I stammered.

"It's called being rational," he sighed. "Something you're not."

"Wow, look who's talking," I scoffed. "Spoken like a true asshole, you don't even know what's going on."

"You really are a cunt, aren't you?" San insulted. "Can you just please listen to me for once?" 

"Last time I did that, I was abandoned."

San paused, a flash of regret flashing through his eyes. He knew that I saw, but he made no effort to hide it, so he does what he does best - deflect blame.

"Ah, yes. You say that as if you were the first one to feel it, Y/N. What other insights have you bought me today?"

"I wonder if you're the worst person I've ever met. I hardly recall, but horrid people really do stand out, do they?" I rolled my eyes.

San sighed deeply, clearly frustrated. "Look," he began rubbing my temples. "We're going nowhere here, how about we research for now?"

He pointed at my bed where my laptop was. "We can use that for now. Do you have class today?"

This was how it was between him and I. We'd be fighting like cats and dogs then we'd work together temporarily to solve a problem. "No," I shook my head as I sat on my bed to grab the laptop. "I'm off for four days. Professor Lee is sick."

"Okay, good. We have the same professor," he sat beside me. My heart lurched when I felt the bed dip with the weight. "You want to use that or list information?"

"Paper," I mumbled, handing him the device. "You've always been better at technology."

It was the truth. He hummed in response, typing up stuff I barely even knew to begin with. "What was the last thing you remember last night?"

That was a good question. "I-I don't remember," I trailed off. "How did we both get home?"

"I was awake enough but not for long. I don't remember who took me, but I know Mingi took you home with what's her name, Saeyeon?"

"Seolhyun," I corrected. I felt my throat constricting with the newfound information. 

What San really meant was, 'I fought to be awake until I saw you safe.’

"I'm surprised your bunch didn't leave me stranded out there," I scoffed.

To my surprise, San smiled lightly. "They're not what you think," he said. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but I suppose I respected the love he held for them.

And then we were silent. We brainstormed and tried to research every little thing about our case. It was genuinely frustrating and disheartening, most of the things we found ranged from the supernatural to just pure fallacy.

Our case was purely unique. That or nobody who has experienced it documented it for the world to see. I don't blame them, I wouldn't believe anyone unless I was certain it was fiction.

"What's up?" I asked San, who kept staring at me while I wrote every detail he told me to. Maybe all the anxiety and nervousness I held was because of the way his eyes held me a prisoner.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that we haven't been in the same room for a long, long time."

I held his stare with a curious look in my eyes. He was right, I hadn't even thought of that. "What exactly are you thinking?"

"That I'm glad it was you," he answered with raw honesty. "This situation isn't ideal for the both of us, but I'm less terrified because it's you."

A puzzle piece of my heart once fell down, because it knew it never belonged there anymore. San left, he didn't belong with me anymore. It struck a nerve, what he just said, because I felt the exact same way - it was either him or nothing.

I nodded, holding my breath because if I didn't, I would say something I will regret. "Did you find anything?"

The small smile on his lips faded, but he nodded despite his feelings. It broke my heart to downgrade my expectations of him. "No," he cleared his throat. "Move in the frat house for the time being with me."

I raised a brow at his suggestion, but on the inside, my heart wanted to leap out my chest and onto San's hand. "Why?"

"I can't stay here, your roommates will notice," he explained. "And you can't stay alone in the frat house. They might look and act like idiots, but they're the furthest from it. They will know."

As much as I hated to admit it, San was right. "Where am I going to stay though?" I frowned.

"In my room. You sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor. We have extra futons," he shrugged nonchalantly.

I agreed immediately. I packed whatever essentials I need and some clothes enough to last me a while, because something is telling me that we're going to be like this for a while.

I left a note for Hyolyn and Seolhyun, saying that I'm going to stay with a friend for now because they're in trouble. Hopefully they don't sense that it's San.

"Don't get any ideas though," I mumbled when we both reached the front door of his frat house. "We're not friends."

He smirked as he rang the doorbell. "Wow. What's got you questioning our friendship?"

"I'm not questioning our friendship, San. I'm denying its existence."

San was about to retort something stupid, when the door suddenly opened. I had to stop myself from drooling at the sight in front of us. It was Kang Yeosang.

"Sannie?" a shirtless Yeosang appeared from the doorway. I knew he was handsome, but goddamn. "Why are you ringing the doorbell?"

I felt a sharp jab to my side, it was San elbowing me. "Uh, h-hi, can I s-stay here with him--her!" I stammered pathetically.

Yeosang stared at me like I was crazy. "You live here, San." 

Fuck.

Before I could incriminate myself further, San grabbed my arm and began pushing past an even more confused Yeosang. I heard him - me - curse under his breath when we reached the living room. 

Everyone was in there, I mean literally every single one of them, Ateez, were just lounging. They all turned to us with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. I get it, though. Me and San being together in one room without fighting was a miracle in itself.

"Don't ask!" San shouted as he dragged me into his room. It must have been because all they see is a tiny woman dragging a bigger man.

When he closed the door behind us, he laid it all out on me. "Seriously, Y/N?" he hissed. "Yeosang got you panting like a bitch in heat?"

"What can I say?" I taunted him. "I appreciate a hunk when I see one."

"You're lucky it wasn't Jongho," he seethed as he arranged the extra futon he was referring to on the floor. "Jongho would've literally chewed you out on the spot for acting weird."

I didn't bother replying. How was I supposed to tell him that he has been the only guy I've seen shirtless before?

We decided that tomorrow is another day, hopefully back in our respective bodies, and we can discuss tomorrow about our next move. For now, we will sleep.

It was comfortable, at least for me, I was in San's bed wrapped up in his scent. I shamelessly inhaled his pillow deeply, God, I've always loved his scent even before and especially now. I sighed, not being able to sleep despite being comfortable. He's matured now, both in looks and the way he acts.

After an hour or so of just thinking, sleep crept up to me, until it didn't.

"Y/N?"

My mind didn't register what I was hearing until San repeated my name over and over again. I got up and saw him already sitting down on the bed. "San? What's up?" I asked groggily.

"Can you help me? I-I'm scared," he stuttered, shaking his leg a bit. I guess some things don't change, San always does that when nervous.

I turned the lampshade he had on so I could take a better look at him. He was pale and genuinely scared. My heart started to hammer against my chest and I grabbed his hand out of reflex.

"Sannie?" I gently asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I think I'm dying," he professed. "M-My stomach h-hurts bad..."

Well, that woke me up completely. "Come again?" I blinked repeatedly at him.

With shaking hands, he pointed at the floor and at first I didn't see it, but when my eyes focused, I saw what appeared to be droplets of blood.

"Sannie," I called out. "Stand up for me, I need to look at something."

He did as asked and I sighed. As expected, the crotch area of his pajamas had blood on them. For the first time in a while, I felt bad for him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I didn't know I'd be having my period so soon."

San's face drops in realization and relief when he hears that it was only technically 'his' period and he wasn't bleeding randomly to death. "Seriously, though?" I teased. "You had a sister and a mother, how could you not know?"

"You had me and male friends but you technically didn't know how it felt peeing from a dick," he snapped. 

"Touché," I chortled. I stood up from the bed and put a soiled shirt of mine on the bed and guided him to lay down on it. "I'm gonna go back to my dorm to get some pads for you," I mumbled.

"No need," he groaned. "Ask the first person you see downstairs. We have them on stash somewhere for people who visit."

I raised a brow at that. "You got so many bitches come over, you have feminine products on standby?"

San narrowed his eyes on me. "I told you," he gritted his teeth. "We're not like that. Hurry up, please. I think I'm going to throw up."

I laughed on the way out of his room. I want to leave him to suffer honestly, but unfortunately, I'm not like that. It was satisfying enough for a man to experience how difficult periods are for women.

I went back to the living room since it was the only place I knew for now, and I wasn't surprised to see it empty except for one man - Jeong Yunho. 

The senior law student sensed my presence and turned to look at me in surprise. "You're still awake?" he asked with a smile.

"I could say the same to you," I laughed nervously, hoping to appear normal by joking around. As far as he knows, I'm San. "D-Do you know where the pads are?"

I was expecting him to be disgusted and make a nasty joke about it, after all, most men are, but no. He nodded with a hum. To be fair, Yunho was well known on campus to be a gentleman, but still.

"We're out of them," he sighed. My heart dropped low in my stomach when he said it, but then he continued. "I'll see if I have some in my room. Come with me."

"In your room?" I asked flabbergasted as I followed him.

"Yeah. Yeni usually leaves hers here in case of an accident," he mumbled, rummaging through his unsurprisingly organized room. "I'm assuming Y/N had hers?"

I nodded slowly. Yunho acknowledged me with another hum. "You can ask Seonghwa for the stain remover. Check the balcony."

My mouth dropped in surprise. Yunho is talking about periods like it's the most normal thing in the world! While it is, frat boys are the last people on Earth to be totally fine with it!

"Here," Yunho handed me a couple of pads. "Goodluck, man."

When Yunho left, I was still frozen on the spot. On campus, Ateez were the typical party boys that ruled and were worshiped by everyone. There were many who disliked them, including me, but have I misunderstood them?

We'll see. Maybe it's only Yunho. I traversed through the whole house, careful not to be too loud since it was past midnight, and the balcony wasn't actually too difficult to find. I blushed when I saw a serious looking Seonghwa only wearing a tank top while he was buried in a mountain of books.

"Yunho?" I heard him ask without looking in my direction.

I was extremely nervous at this point. What if I say something and he'll catch on and figure out that I'm not San?

"N-No, it's me," I whispered. God, pretending to be San was a lot harder than it seemed.

He pauses from reading and looks up at me. I gulped when his sharp eyes hit me. From a distance, even on campus, Park Seonghwa had always looked intimidating to me, and right now, I wanted to bury myself in the ground with his scrutiny.

"San," he drawled with a small smirk. He glances at the pads on my hand. "You need the stain remover."

I nodded, not daring to say a word. It was unsettling, the way he looked at me as if he could see right through me. "Well?" Seonghwa asked in a tense voice.

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You bring the girl that hates your guts without me and Hongjoong's permission, you don't have anything to say about that?"

I bit my lip apprehensively. I'm going to strangle San the minute I get the hell out of here. "I-I'm sorry," was all I could say.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he mused. "I don't mind her, I quite admire her spirit. She doesn't conform to the status quo and doesn't worship us mindlessly for no reason."

I didn't know if I should be even more terrified now or flustered with the compliment. "However," he continued. "Hongjoong is different. He's a little upset you're not standing up for yourself when she badmouths you. You're lucky he's at his internship abroad."

"It's not like you don't know I hate her as well," I blurted out before I could stop myself, but it was too late. I won't be scrutinized here when San hates me more.

"You do?" Seonghwa was puzzled. "But I thought," he sighed. "Whatever, you'll figure it out. Run along, stain remover is in your bathroom. I cleaned it earlier. I'll buy some ice cream for her. Did you get the warm compress?"

I was flabbergasted. "What?"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "For her cramps, you half wit. No wonder she hates you."

I thought nothing could shock me anymore than Yunho's kind attitude, but Seonghwa cleaning the bathroom? And he's pretty nonchalant about periods too! How in the world are they so normal about this? Of course I knew what warm compresses are!

And these are exactly what I told San when I came back to the room. Telling him that they ran out of pads was embarrassing, and apparently the pads I got were for when Yunho's cousin comes over, and the interaction with Seonghwa.

"Are you scared of Hongjoong?" San asked. He looked too amused for my liking.

"I'm more scared of Seonghwa, to be honest," I shrugged. "Put this blindfold on, I'm going to undress you."

San blinked at me, but did so anyway. It felt damn weird technically dressing myself. We got into the shower and San surprisingly wasn't making lewd comments, but I can see the blush rising up on his cheeks. It was my body, so I knew how it functioned.

"Seonghwa looks intimidating because of the way he carries himself," San said as I took my pajamas off of him. "I remember being more terrified of Hongjoong when I first met him. His tongue is sharp---can you be careful? It's ticklish."

"You know I'm ticklish," I mumbled. "Sharp how?"

"In a sense that he doesn't have to stick a knife in your chest to kill you," he chuckled. "How long do I have to wear these?"

"I'll let you know if we have to change it," I replied with my own blush. It felt so damn weird changing San, but technically it was my body I'm putting clothes on. But still, maybe I should just let San see my body?

I shook my head apprehensively, my face getting redder and redder because of how ludicrous my own thoughts were. No way I'd let him see even if it was hard.

"This feels so fucking weird," he whined as he kept adjusting himself. "It feels like I'm wearing a diaper!"

For the first time since we had switched bodies, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his claim. San looks at me weirdly before laughing out loud as well. My heart didn't hurt this time, rather, I felt it healing.

"Usually, I'm a tampon person," I wiped an imaginary tear from my eyes. "But I don't think you will appreciate something inside you."

San's cheeks look like tomatoes at this point. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. "Thanks for the compress, it feels better."

I glanced at him shifting uncomfortably on the floor, tossing and turning to find the perfect sleeping position, but to no avail.

I sighed. "San," I called out. He took a peek at me. "Sleep here for now," I said, patting the side of the bed softly. His eyes widen into saucers. "Please."

He stayed unmoving, contemplating whether I was being serious or not. I don't blame him, this is the gentlest we've both been to each other since four years ago. When I scooted to make some space, he had resolved and decided to lay down next to me.

"Thanks," he groaned in pain after. "So this is what you guys go through every month?"

"Mhhm," I mumbled. "I'll help you."

"Why?" he smirked. "We're not friends, right?"

I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid him. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating right now. He gave up and fell asleep himself. I can feel his body heat next to me, searing hotly. We used to sleep in one bed when we were younger, so what makes this one any different? I had no idea.

Soon enough, I didn't have to pretend to sleep. Then, I had another dream...

I winced in pain when San dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on my lips. "Please, Sannie, it really hurts," I cried.

"Shh, just bear with it okay? I don't want it to get infected," he hushed, his brows furrowed in concentration mixed with a little bit of displeasure.

"A-Are you mad?" I squeaked.

"No. Stay still."

"But you look mad."

He sighed, his hand caressing my cheek. I lean into it, hissing in pain once more. I forgot I had a bruise there as well. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm not mad," he confessed, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises, both old and new, across my face and neck. "At least not at you."

I gasped lightly when planting a small kiss at my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin longer than it should. "I'm so sorry, Sannie."

"Stop," he warned. "I never want to hear that from you." He plants another kiss on my bruised cheek. Suddenly, the pain wasn't there anymore. "I'm going to kill them, Y/N, I swear I'm going to," he growled.

I held his hand and gripped on it. Tears started falling from my cheeks and his eyes softened. "I-I'm fine, please don't," I begged. "He's just stressed, that's all--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, enough of that bullshit!" San roared loudly, slamming his hands on the table. I whimpered loudly at the sound. "He's supposed to be your father, Y/N, and look at what he's doing to you!"

"I know, San, please," I wept.

"You have to report this, Y/N, I don't want to see you in a morgue one day," he pleaded. "If your mom had still been alive..."

His voice cracked towards the end. I pulled him towards me in a reassuring hug and we cried together as good friends did. "Live with me, Y/N, I'll take care of you," he implored in a way that broke my heart into little pieces.

And just like before, I have to tell him that I can't. "My stepfather will find me," I sobbed. "I can't let him hurt you."

That night I slept in San's room, on his bed while we talked all night about our dreams, with all the love and appreciation I never got with my own family.

The bloody period, figuratively and literally, was over and me and San took a break from all the fighting because even though I laughed at his pain, I did feel bad. My cramps often left me unable to walk sometimes.

I have to say, it wasn't all that bad. I have found utmost joy in opening jars that I wouldn't usually normally have in my real body. I can also reach higher places now and experience my feet touching the floor whenever I'm sitting down. In turn, I had to laugh at San's experience. He's so used to being big and strong and he's experiencing the opposite of mine.

"Can you stop pouting and act normal?" San hissed at me. "You're going to ruin my reputation like that—stop fiddling with it!"

"I'll just replace it with something else," I protested with an edge to my voice. "Seriously, it looks stupid."

San glared at me while fixing his jeans, my jeans, on him. "It's just an earring," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I wear what you tell me, you don't see me complaining, do you?"

I sighed, annoyed. "Fine."

"Why? I can't do fashion?" he raised a brow at me.

We set out to leave my dorm this time. We've perfected our routine somewhat, by nighttime we go to the frat house, but by dawn we leave to go to mine before everyone wakes up. It was flawless because my roommates barely stay, the last thing I want is for people to think me and San live together. At least on my end. Surprisingly, Ateez has been very hush-hush about it.

"You tell me," I scoffed as we both walked towards campus. "I take it's the same reason you always dye your bangs blonde."

San paused from walking, stiffening as he stared on the floor with a faraway look in his eyes. I frown, looking back at him. He was already staring at me seriously. "Meaning?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What else?" He waits expectantly. "Come on, you know why. Do you not hear and see the other girls flocking and moaning your name repeatedly when they see you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "So basically, what you mean is I do it to pick up some pussy."

I was taken aback by his vulgarity. "Is there any other reason?"

"I don't know, have you ever seen me entertain a girl?"

I stop and all is quiet, hardly even a breeze around us. I bit my lip, deep in thought. He was right, there were obviously playboys but San's name was never involved in it.

He smirked, and I had to stop myself from cringing. Did I look that dumb when I did it? "So tell me," I dismissed.

"Let's just keep the peace, shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, we walked in the common area, the hallways, and the moment we did, people started talking. It was a horrible symphony I've heard over and over, but never before towards me. What would you do if fire and ice started acting as if they went well with one another?

"I didn't take you to be a philanthropist," I muttered, deflecting the whispers and the stares. The stares I got as San was good, but the stares that San got as me were the opposite, and he was taking it well.

"Well, we didn't necessarily get along that well, didn't we?" San smirked. "We still don't. Anyway, let's summarize what we researched so far before we get in class."

"Nil, zilch, nada, zip. Nothing except that it might be a curse," I sighed.

"Do you believe in that?" San frowned.

"It's a bit too late not to," I laughed sarcastically. "We're not in our respective bodies."

"Right. Do you remember what happened that day?" 

"It was raining, we were fighting, then accidentally kissed, then boom."

San stared at me, amused at the blush on - his - my cheeks. "We kissed again," he smirked. "Never really undid it, so that's out."

"This was a bad idea, we can't talk here," I shuddered at the stares directed towards us.

Suddenly his phone rings, and he frowns when he sees the caller ID. "It's Mingi," he sighed. "Pick it up."

I took the phone reluctantly. "What should I say?"

"Just go with whatever. He just looks rough but, Mingi's harmless," he assured. "Oh, and call him Mangi."

I raised a brow. I can't imagine the daunting Song Mingi being called by a cute nickname. "H-Hello? Mangi?"

"Oh, Sannie!" I was surprised how deep Mingi's voice was on the phone. "It's game night tonight before Thanksgiving, you in?"

"Yes?" I squawked out when San stomped on my foot. This brat!

"You sound unsure?" Mingi chuckled on the other end. "Figures. You've been with her lately. Finally, you learned how to have some balls. How is she anyway? Haven't seen her since that night."

I raised a brow. I decided to ignore that, it must be fraternity lingo. "G-Good, a little frazzled, but good."

"Good to hear. Well, tell her we all wish her good luck at the finals. I'll see you."

"Wait--oh damn," I trailed off when Mingi hung up. "What do we do?"

San took his phone back and patted my shoulders hard. I glared at him. "What else? You go," he smirked. "I have an exam to take, do I?"

I pushed his hand away from me. Here we go again. "Choi San, I've been studying my ass off for the very exam you're going to take for me," I hissed. "If you fail, I swear to God I will sell my soul to Satan just so I could live longer than you and shit on your grave when you die."

He cackled very loudly. "Oh my, that was a good one," he grinned. "Easy peasy, I'll take care of it."

"San, I'm being serious, please."

"I am too," he retorted, clearly offended. "You think I can't handle it? My major is harder and you know it."

"Biology and Economics are two very, very different things," I rolled my eyes. "You think this is peanuts?"

"Yeah, what did you major in? Stupidity?" San chuckles sardonically. I was about to slap his arm but then I stopped when I remembered that for now, I'm not a woman - that meant I would be a man hitting a woman. San seemed to realize it as well and smirked dirtily in my direction.

"I'll definitely fail you---"

"San!"

"Go to the frat house," he shrugged. "And pack your things after."

"Why? You're kicking me out?" I sarcastically asked.

"No," he scoffed. "Thanksgiving at my parents. You up?"

I paused, my features softening. I haven't seen his parents in years, the only people who actually cared for my well being and helped me when I needed it the most. I was forever grateful to them.

"Which car?" I asked.

His face lit up and I had to smile a little. "You wanna drive?" San smiled back.

The smile I was holding back showed itself at the question. I nodded enthusiastically. San remembered. When we were younger, driving was the only thing that relieved my stress when my stepfather abused me.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he hissed when I zeroed in on someone I saw walking from behind him. "Hurry before Mingi calls again!"

"Hold on, my senior is approaching, please act normal," I glared at him. "Or I will skin you alive."

“Ha! I’d like to see you try,” he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to give us out!”

And just like that, we were back at our old ways of bickering. A really good friend of mine, Jeno, approached me with the cheeriest smile on his face while San and I just walked aimlessly around the campus.

"That's him? Seriously?" San snapped. "Wasn't that the guy who had been crushing on you since freshman year?"

"How the hell did you know about that?" I stared at him accusingly.

"Word travels fast," he shrugged, clearly annoyed. Then, he had this devilish grin on his face.

"Don't you dare, Choi San, don't you fucking dare---"

"Hey, Y/N!" Jeno finally jogged to both of us, panting a bit to catch his breath. He turns to me and nods slightly. "San."

"I'm sorry, what's your name?" San asked Jeno with that innocent look I used a lot on him.

My eyes widened and the world stopped for a moment. "Uhm, don't you remember me?" Jeno laughed nervously. "It's Jeno?"

"Nah, I could have sworn it was something dumber than that," San grinned mockingly.

Both Jeno and I gasped in shock at San's antics. I grabbed him before he could incriminate the both of us further. "Ah," I interrupted. " I hate to cut this short, but wow, I forgot we had to hurry and leave, haha."

"Yeah, you do that," Jeno trailed off in a daze.

I dragged San rather harshly, not caring if the people around us thought that I was manhandling a poor woman, yeah, my ass!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him. "You can't just act like that when you don't like someone?"

San looked at me mockingly. "What, you like him, is that it?"

"Are you for real?!" I gritted my teeth. "Why are you dead set on ruining my life? Ugh!"

"I don't have an ax to grind with you though," he grinned.

"No, San. You just want to bury it in my back!"

I walked off and he followed me while he laughed his ass off. God, we were such a ticking time bomb together. Soon enough he was able to catch up to me, and before we knew it we were pretty much at the frat house at this point. We kept bickering and bickering, our taunts borderline offensive at this point.

True to his word, Mingi did call back just like San predicted. "This isn't over!" I glared at him.

With that, I put all my trust in San and went running to the frat house. I collected all the nerves I had stood strong in front of the door. 

Truth be told, my heart was pounding extremely fast. Even though they seemed kind so far, that was when I - technically San - was here. Now it was just going to be "just the boys".

"Hey, there he is! The man of the hour," Mingi beamed, ushering me inside where food and drinks lay all over the living room.  

"What's all of this?" I murmured, sitting beside the only person I knew so far - Wooyoung, since he would pester San - me - a lot, and for absolutely no reason, Yunho.

"You've been acting weird since you passed out that night," Yeosang shrugged. Cold sweat dripping from my scalp, did they know? I laughed nervously.

"What the hell is going on?" Yunho started. "Seriously San, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes, why do you ask?" I stammered, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour. The room felt small, like it was closing in on me.

"Something's wrong with you," Yunho narrowed his eyes. "It's like you're not you, for some reason."

I was nauseous at the remark, and I have never ever felt the urge to throw up like I was feeling right now. Were we and San that bad in acting?

"You don't talk to me anymore either," Wooyoung frowned. It was the most serious I've ever seen him. "Is it her?"

My chest felt like it might explode from all the questions getting thrown at me. It clicked all of a sudden - did they plan this "game" night just to pry? Did they know?

"Listen," Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to pat me on the shoulders. "Let's solve this before Hongjoong comes back. Tell us, San, do you have a problem?"

"No, I don't I swear!" I remarked a little too enthusiastically than I wanted to.

"Relax, we're not mad at you," Seonghwa frowned. "Mingi, tell everyone what you noticed."

The deep-voiced, criminal justice senior student cleared his throat. "The fact that you and Y/N come back late at night when you think no one is awake?" Mingi smirked. "Or is it when both of you leave at dawn when you think nobody is awake?"

This is where me and San fucked up. Of course everyone would notice, Mingi was the son of a renowned detective, Yunho was a law student, Seonghwa took sociology, Yeosang and Wooyoung were just damn observant. Jongho, I don't interact with that much.

"Is college getting too hard on you? Affecting your mental health?" Wooyoung thoughtfully asked.

Yeosang shook his head in amusement. "It's alright, we know you're pussy whipped."

I blush in embarrassment. San? With me? Impossible.

"I mean I get it," Wooyoung cackled with that annoyingly loud screech of his. "She's the talk of the campus right now."

My brain shut off immediately. Me? My eyes slowly widened with the thought of San doing something that will embarrass the living hell out of me. "W-What? Why?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Yunho raised a brow. "Your girl did a little too well on her finals. Who said it, Woo?"

"Changbin," Wooyoung chimed in. "He supervised the presentation and written exams." He teasingly wiggled his brows. "Said it reminded him of how you talk, it's like you guys switched bodies for a day or something."

I froze at that comment, my face twitching in an attempt to stop myself from falling apart at the moment.

I looked around and sighed in relief, it was just a joke. That was a close call. I’m literally sweating out of my pores. I tried to distract myself by listening to their banter, and soon enough, everyone forgot about me.

Except for one person.

Choi Jongho kept zeroing on me with an expression I couldn't pinpoint. I knew that he's aware that I noticed, yet he didn't look away. It was like he was dissecting me alive with his eyes and studying the composition of what made me, well, me.

I tried to brush it off, San did mention that Jongho was the atypical maknae - he didn't revel in being the youngest, rather, he would exercise its power and use it against everyone. If he wasn't staring at me like this, I would have found it cute.

"Ya, Mingi, stop clowning around and pass the food," Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Seonghwa is nearer!" Mingi blurted out.

I laughed when the dragon-looking elder raised a brow and everyone was suddenly friendly again to each other.

"Going home for Thanksgiving?" Yeosang asked curiously. I nodded, not wanting to say a word in case I gave myself away. I put food in my mouth so I have an excuse.

As much as I hated to admit it, but I understood why San chose them over me. They were fun to be around, and it was the type of friendship that extended outside college; it was the type you'd have forever.

Suddenly, the door opened and we all turned around to see San - technically it was my body - standing by the doorway. It got silent as everyone stared at him as he slowly went upstairs. I saw the pain in his eyes and I felt awful because he couldn't join in.

"Y/N, don't go."

It was Jongho. "There's plenty of meat for everyone. Come."

My heart swelled. That was technically San in my body, but in extension, it was like Jongho was asking me to join. I felt relieved, they never really talked to "me" like that, just the occasional greeting.

And just like that it was back to normal. I can tell San was happy, meat was his favourite food after all.

I dropped my chopsticks. They clattered on the table and no one seemed to notice. I looked at the meat, and then San, and then Jongho, who was already staring at me with a blank look in his eyes.

My eyes widened when he smiled, genuinely smiled, at me. He mouthed something I quickly understood because San said the same thing to me.

"I'm glad it was you."

I felt like crying when we finally reached San's parents house after a couple of hours driving. Nostalgia hit me hard as I stared at the door, a symbol of hope I had when I was younger. 

"Let's take it easy here, okay?" San knocked on the door a couple of times. "I don't want my mom suspecting anything."

"As long as you don't piss me off we're good," I rolled my eyes, fixing my outfit even though I have to pretend to be San anyway.

"I can't help it," he chuckled. "We have to figure out how to survive, I suppose. Plus, it's only 2 days. You got something?"

"Yeah, San. High blood pressure."

San laughed really loud. "I love your comebacks," he drawled. "It turns me on--"

He was interrupted when the door suddenly opened before I could smack San. There stood the person who took care of me the most, smiling with tears of joy in the corner of her eyes.

"Oof!" San exclaimed when his own mom hugged him - me - instead.

"Y/N, my dear, I'm glad San," she glared at me, thinking I was her son. I had to stop the urge to laugh. "Finally bought you home! Oh, it's been so long!"

"L-Long time no see, Mo--Mrs. Choi," he nervously laughed, glancing at me for help. I pretended that the floor was suddenly interesting.

"Come along, both of you, I prepared so much food," she beamed, grabbing both of our hands and leading us inside the house. I loved how she always reached out to me first even after all these years. I knew San didn't mind either.

We exchanged greetings with his father, who also stood by me, and his sister, a friend I had when San was busy. Even the most mundane things felt so normal to me here. Finally, after so long, I was finally home.

When we were seated at the dining table, my soul felt at peace when I sat in my original seat. They cared for me so much, they designated a chair for me. It's a shame San ruined everything.

"So, biology treating you, kiddo?" Mr. Choi smiled at me while he put some meat on my plate. "Eat up, son."

"Wonderful. Graduating this year," I replied. I kept my answers short even though I had so much to tell. It was just how San was. 

Mr. Choi put his hand on my shoulders and I couldn't help but smile at it. Granted, he thought it was his son, but still. I'm going to take all that I can get. He mentions how proud he was and I couldn't help but revel in it.

Dinner was pretty fun, the most I've had in years. We just fell into the rhythm, not caring about what will happen to both of us in the future.

"So, Y/N, any news I should know between you and my Sannie?" Mrs. Choi beams, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

San continues eating, and I clear my throat. He looks startled and I point my eyes sharply at his mom. "I'm sorry?"

Mrs. Choi giggles like a teenage girl looking for gossip. It was honestly so cute. "Anything going on between you and San?"

San heaved a long sigh. "No, Mom, nothing is," he grumbled silently. 

I choked on my food, and everyone's utensils clattered on their plates. This idiot!

He noticed everyone looking at him with wide eyes. "W-What?" San cowers a bit at the attention. As if lightning hit him, his own eyes widened and he started to wave around like a fool as he realized what was up. "No, no, wait, it's not--"

Mr. Choi hits my back proudly and I choke more. "That's my boy! Finally, we knew this would happen!"

We couldn't even put a word in, Mrs. Choi was already tearing up and sniffling and hugging San. He gulped when I glared at him hard. Communication by staring does wonders for both of us. "Oh, finally, my babies are together," she sniffled.

And that was how we both ended up in his room together despite protesting that we shouldn't. 

"You blithering idiot!" I laid it all on him, and pulled his - my - hair hard. Now I get why people do it.

"Ow!" San screamed furiously. "Stop! You ungrateful bitch that hurts!"

"You slipped, how can you slip?!" I screamed.

He got pissed and reached up to pull my ear down in his direction. I yelped in pain. "That's my mother, how can I not miss?!" 

"Your mom thinks we're dating! Are you okay with that?" I pushed him down rather aggressively. He glared at this 'you-dare-use-my-own-strength-on-me' look.

"It's fine. That's where it will end anyway," he shrugged, plopping on his bed lazily.

"No. I'd rather gouge my eyes with a spoon," I scoffed, but on the inside, I was screaming in confusion.

He raised an offended brow up. "Goddamn it, if you think I'm unattractive just fucking say so."

"That's the problem, San. I think you're alarmingly attractive."

A dark look passes through his eyes. It's crazy that even though I was looking at my own eyes, it looked so much like San's instead. Before I could take back what I said, I was pulled harshly towards the bed. I yelped when the bed came in contact and my breath stopped when I saw San hovering over me.

"So, you think I'm hot?" San smirked.

I tried very hard not to look in the eye, focusing on the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I think you're insane," I laughed nervously.

"You know what?" San whispered. "Maybe this weird shit happening to us wasn't so bad after all."

I completely stopped breathing when he leaned down to my ear, the same ear he pulled earlier. "We would've graduated and never saw each other again." 

That was true. All I ever wanted was to move on with my life, and I was prepared to do it without San, even though it would have killed me.

"You betrayed me," I whispered back, my voice cracking with all the emotions I hid from him all these years ago. "You gave me back to that monster. Look."

With a shaky hand, I pulled the dress I made him wear on my body to reveal a badly disfigured shoulder. It was ugly; disgusting. The skin was mangled with burn marks and had darkened in time. Unshed tears started to pool in the corner of my eyes as San's jaw tightens. 

"How could you do this to me?" I questioned. It was the same question I asked him four years ago.

He adjusted the dress back on his shoulder and held my hand on his. He put it against his lips and kissed it so tenderly, I barely felt it. "I am so sorry," he sighed. "You will understand one day."

My brows shot up in confusion. This was the first time I was hearing this. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't we sleep for now? We'll talk tomorrow?" 

I frowned, angry, and I wanted to be angry, but I was too tired to be angry at him because there was no point in feeling so. I knew he was changing the topic and even if he pretended to be fine, it was the fine details - the ticking of his eyes, the quivering of his lips, the slight breathing pattern change, the dilation of his pupils. He was extremely angry.

I gulped. "San--"

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely audible from my ears. "Can we pretend for one night that nothing had ever changed between us?"

He wiped one lone tear that escaped from my eye, and for the first time since it had happened, I cursed the Gods for switching us callously. I wanted to feel his arms against mine, his soft breaths hitting my skin as he shielded from every trouble that dared touch me. 

But no. I was San for now, and he was me.

The air was tangible, one wrong word and the little bubble we had wrapped ourselves will pop. I laid on the bed with San giving my head little pecks here and there.

"You know," I began. "I never got to thank you for getting me an A++ on my finals."

He chuckled from above me. "They told you before I came back, didn't they?"

I hummed in response, but not saying anything back. Once again it was silent, the only thing we could hear was our breathing. Dare I say it was the most comfortable thing I've ever heard.

"Y/N?" San suddenly asked. When I didn't respond he continued. "What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?"

I tensed against his hold. I wasn't expecting a question that deep right now. "Is this about why you left me?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't know, Sannie. It depends on the lie," I responded. "I don't even know you anymore."

It was his turn to tense. It was a mirror of his anxiety. He cleared his throat rather loudly. "There's a lot about you that you don't know, Y/N."

"Like what?"

He taps my nose with his finger before they go up and fluff the blonde piece of hair he had. "For one," he smirked. "I don't dye this. I have poliosis. Haneul has one too, she just dyes hers dark."

I was at a loss for words, dumbfounded at the revelation. "What?" I almost screeched. "You never told me this!"

He tucked me inside the blanket, almost lovingly, just like I used to when we were younger. "The world is cruel to people like me who are different, I didn't want you to think I was a freak," he shrugged and I felt my heart breaking into pieces. "I'm so sick of seeing my failures in your eyes."

My chest exploded with a million emotions and it hit me - I still loved him. I was in love with him then, and I am still in love with him now.

"San," I spoke with uncertainty, looking deep into his eyes.

There was so much I wanted to say. Falling in love with him was easy, it was admitting to myself how hard I fell. When he asked what if my life was a lie, he didn't know that I was the one lying to myself. I suppose he never noticed, and I could ask him, but what's the point? 

For now, we were here, and I was glad.

"Where are we going?" I asked nervously when San lead to an unfamiliar route from the road we were supposed to take. His hold on my hand loosened and I felt him shaking.

"Just a little bit, we're almost there," he cryptically said.

"I'm so excited," I giggled. "Are you excited?"

"Y-Yeah, I am," he replied. I frowned, maybe he was just as nervous as I was.

We finally ran away, San had finally taken me away from my monster of a stepfather who did nothing but destroy me as a person, but guess what? He will never succeed.

That is, until I saw his red car parked in the far distance, the moonlight shining on it as if it was mocking me.

"San?" I croaked, halting my steps. I knew I wasn't seeing things, that was him. "San!"

I felt him pull into my hand and when I wasn't moving, he forcefully pulled me until we reached that dreaded car. I was a crying mess, especially at the thought of my only friend betraying me. 

"San, please, don't do this to me," I begged over and over again, reaching to him pitifully when my stepfather grabbed my hair roughly and pushed me into his car. "San, please!"

He stood there, watching as we drove away. I pounded on the back windows, hoping he would snap out of whatever it was that urged him to do this, but nothing. He just stood there, until he was no more.

"Sit properly, you whore!" I heard my stepfather scream.

"Let me go, you demon, just let me go!" I screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, yeah?" he snarled, taking the cigarette from his dirty mouth and extinguishing it on my exposed shoulder.

Now that I think of it, he was acting extremely odd that day. Even if it had been that long already, I knew he wasn't himself. That was four years ago, surprisingly, the abuse did stop. The broken bones and repetitive bruises had healed over time. That rat knows he can't beat me into submission anymore since I was in college now.

Suddenly, his phone rings and when he glances at the caller ID, he curses loudly. "Fuck," he gulped. "It's Hongjoong."

My heart dropped to my stomach. I've been a squatter in the frat house and I've never interacted with the one and only Kim Hongjoong. "I thought he was overseas?"

"Not anymore, I guess. I'll handle it," he murmured. "Hello?"

“Ah, Y/N. Fancy talking to you.”

We froze, cringing hard. San just mindlessly answered the phone, forgetting that he was in my body with my voice. Hongjoong continued before San replied.

"Dare I say that the owner of this phone is with you since you have it?"

"Yes," San coughed. He quickly covered the phone and turned to me. "See what I mean? He's sharp-tongued," he hissed. "Are you back?"

"Interesting. Listen, I got nothing against you, sweetheart, you'll get your turn soon. Pass the phone to San."

Oh, he was pissed. San blabbers, "But--"

"Now."

San reluctantly passes the phone to me. "H-Hello?" I stammered.

"Choi San, do you take me as stupid?"

My eyes widened, dread filling my body. "N-No, not at all."

"Yeah? You think I didn't know you were sneaking around at night and morning? Come home. We need to talk."

"B-But--"

"I know your schedule. You didn't even say goodbye before Thanksgiving. I'm warning you, San. I'm at the airport and you better be back before I do, or else. Drive safe."

Unfortunately, we had to cut that trip short by a day. It was hard to tell his parents, but the assurance of me and San being "together" seemed to make them happy.

"You have to fix this before it gets too far," I frowned at San while we walked back to the frat house. "I don't want to break your mom's heart."

"I will figure it out," he rolled his eyes.

I snapped. "Which means you'll let it slide and hope they'll forget! You owe me, Choi San, you screwed me over with Lee Jeno too!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Y/N!" San glared harshly at me. "He just wants to get into your pants!"

There was still one day left of vacation so there was nobody around the campus to hear both of us scream at each other's ear. It wasn't until San stopped talking and walking all together when I realized that something was wrong.

And something was very wrong indeed.

"San," I gasped in total shock.

There, in front of the frat house was the red car that I rode every time I had to go to the nearest clinic from all the abuse and trauma I had to endure during my early years. We can both hear my stepfather arguing loudly with none other than Seonghwa, and he was both looking for me and San.

"For the last time, I don't know where they are!" Seonghwa screamed, the anger and authority rolling off of him even from a distance. "And even if I did, I would never tell you."

My stepfather smirks dirtily. "Watch your mouth, boy, I could knock you out right now," he spat.

"I'd like to see you try--stay in the damn house, Yeosang. Tell Hongjoong to hurry up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms haughtily at my stepfather.

"Get him the fuck out of here then," Yeosang growled. I was stunned, I have never heard him so angry before.

My stepfather seethes in anger at Seonghwa and Yeosang's insubordination. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone else had the upper hand.

San protectively puts his body in front of me to protect me, not that it mattered, he was in my body; my weak body.

I held onto San for balance. We weren't supposed to be back today and Seonghwa knew it. "Stay with me, okay?" San whispered. "We're going back in the car, watch your step."

But it was too late. I accidentally stepped on a drying leaf, and its crunching sound as my foot hit it reverberated all over the empty campus grounds. I was shaking at this point, the fight between me and San long forgotten when Seonghwa and Yeosang stared at us in shock from the distance.

"San, I'm scared," I whimpered pathetically.

"I'm going to handle this, okay?" San assured me, but even I could hear the tremble in his voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my lovely daughter?" my wretched stepfather cackled evilly as he started to walk towards us.

Here was the monster that ruined my life, standing in the very place I was expecting him to pop out the least, in the flesh. There was something so profoundly evil about him, he was so rotten to the core that I was surprised he hadn't started decaying from the inside.

"I am no daughter of yours," San seethed, still shielding me from behind. I shook his shoulders hurriedly in panic. I whispered, terrified, that he hated it when I backtalked.

Even after all these years, years I spent on campus because I refused to go home even on vacations, I was still utterly terrified of this man. When Seonghwa tried to approach us, I shook my head vigorously.

"No?" my stepfather smirked. "Being in this dump has taught you to be disobedient, yes?"

I screamed when he aggressively slapped San square in the face, something I knew hurt since I've been the target of that for years. My heart stopped when I completely forgot that San was in my body, and that body was weak.

"Wake up, please, wake up, don't leave me again," I sobbed as my stepfather laughed at my pathetic attempts to wake up San, who was clearly disoriented from the powerful backhanded slap.

"Choi San, was it?" 

I flinched when I realized that he was referring to me. "My, you have grown into a fine young man," he cackled like a maniac once more.

He went down to my level to whisper. "You good for nothing bitch," he whispered sadistically. "I thought I told you I'd kill her if I see you with her again?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"You were always like a little tick that sucked the innocence out of my baby girl," he mockingly declared. "Well, not anymore."

He was about to try and carry my body out - San - but I stopped him, courage suddenly filling my lungs. "What the hell do you want from us?" I growled aggressively. "Haven't you taken enough for me?"

He raised a brow at the declaration, and I knew I slipped, but I didn't care. "You gave her to me willingly," he scoffed, red in the face. "Pathetic, one word from me saying I'd be 'better' and you believe it?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"What?" I felt my heart breaking to tiny little pieces once more.

My bastard stepfather laughed mockingly in my face. "This college rubbish has ruined her. I will marry this slut to a business partner of mine to expand," he spat. All the blood rushed to my head when I heard this. "Out of my way, brat!"

In one swoop, my body was in his arms and leapt up to try and grab San out of his grip. Once more, I thank God that San worked out and was strong enough. "You sick, sick, son of a bitch," I seethed, an anger I never let out before. 

He faltered for a moment before kicking me on my leg, but he was never going to win. He laughed and temporarily dropped an unconscious San, who was again, in my body still, on the dirty ground.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," he sadistically remarked. 

We fought right there and then and for a moment, I had the upper hand. My wounded childhood was the one spurring me on as my fists pounded on him repeatedly as I straddled him. Each punch on his clownish face as he lay on the floor felt like a win.

Until it wasn't. In a twist of events, he had managed to flip me over when I got too emotional and straddled me instead, his sick grin widening as he tried to blow a punch. A burst of adrenaline went through me and I held his fists to stop him from punching, struggling since at the end of the day, this still wasn't my body.

"I'm going to have fun ruining your face, pretty boy," he grinned maniacally, blowing punch after punch and so far, I've been avoiding them.

But that can only last so long. I was slowly getting tired and tired and he did manage to hit me once. Stars flooded my vision and I gave up. He was about to punch me again, his fist up in the air and going down and I just waited for the impact to happen.

It never came. 

I could have cried when Hongjoong came just in time and pulled my stepfather, who was extremely shocked, away from me. It happened so fast, my stepfather was now fighting Hongjoong and I took that opportunity to crawl towards my body while whispering San's name.

"Easy there, buddy..."

I felt myself being lifted up and I got nervous at first, until I saw Mingi's face above me as he was trying to lift me up from the floor. He put my arm across his shoulders and we huddled close to San's body.

"Now!" I heard Hongjoong shout and I looked up just in time to see Yunho deliver a punch, himself, and it managed to knock my stepfather out cold on the ground.

"Holy shit," I heard Yunho mutter to himself. Who knew that the gentle giant had it in him?

"Wooyoung, go get her," Hongjoong pointed at San, his voice tight and tense. It was an authority I have never, ever felt on anyone before and it honestly made me a bit more terrified of him than all of the Ateez members combined.

"The rest," he panted tiredly and began to walk inside the house. "The rest, get that motherfucker inside and tie him up on the chair, I don't fucking care which."

It was about time anyway, it started to rain all of a sudden and we all made a big run for it inside before we got soaked.

Once Wooyoung carried my body and laid it down on the couch next to where Mingi had placed me, Hongjoong lay it all out, screaming at the top of his lungs with an anger that could have made the Earth tremble and shake.

"I'm gone for a couple of months and this is what I come home to?" Hongjoong shouted, the sound of it so loud it rendered us speechless. My God, he was terrifying. "Nothing to say?"

"I mean, nothing big," Jongho muttered, "It's just that--"

"I'm hearing excuses, Jongho," Hongjoong sarcastically laughed as he banged his hands on the table. "I don't want to hear it. You're the temporary leader, Jongho, what happened?"

I was surprised. All this time, I thought it was Seonghwa. Jongho sighed deeply. "Well, we can start from the beginning," he shrugged, turning to look at me. "Y/N? Who the hell is that?"

"Yes?" I replied almost instantaneously in a panicked state. "Oh, my stepfather--I mean, I don't know!"

I was met with the most surprised stares and the heaviest of gasps. I covered my mouth quickly with widened eyes when I realized what I just did. Jongho crosses his arms and smirks.

"I told you so," he gloated.

We hear a series of groans and I quickly help San get up and sit up properly on the coach and he was as surprised as I was when he noticed everyone staring.

But most of all, I was terrified of Hongjoong. "Well, I'll be damned," he clicked his tongue. I frowned at his lack of surprise.

San sighs heavily. "You guys know, don't you?"

"Wait, hold on a minute," Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand around. "So all this time when I've been showing you cat videos, it was you?"

I nodded sheepishly, suddenly uncomfortable with all the stares. I can literally hear everybody's gears turning as they internalized all the events that happened during the last few months.

"This is ridiculous," Seonghwa remarks, narrowing his sharp eyes. "How do we know that this isn't some prank?"

Then it starts. Mingi's cheeks reddened when he realized that he has been shirtless a lot of times with me. Yunho laughed when he remarked that he had been wondering why San had been suddenly interested in gaming with him.

"Wait, wait," Yeosang interrupted the ruckus with a loud laugh. "So, San was the one with the period that time?"

"Shut up," San seethed when everyone burst out laughing like maniacs. He points to me accusingly. "You should have seen her when she had the morning wood."

My cheeks were up in flames when I remember when I felt that painful sensation down there one morning; it was painfully hard, sticky, wet. Everybody laughed for a minute straight when me and San started selling each other out, and we looked at each other out.

As usual, one person wasn't saying anything. "How did you know?" I asked a smirking Jongho.

He hesitates, contemplating if he should tell me. "Because it happened to me, as well," Jongho shrugged. "Though not as long as you guys."

All hell broke loose at that statement and the million question was - who did Jongho switch temporarily with?

He glances at someone in particular, and follows his line of sight. "No way, there is no fucking way," Seonghwa cursed. "You?"

"It was last year," Hongjoong shrugged, sitting on the couch lazily. "Lasted for only three days though, I'm not sure why you guys haven't returned yet."

"I don't believe it," Seonghwa narrows his eyes at me and San, and then Jongho and Hongjoong. "Proof or I’m kicking everyone out."

I shrunk. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the sociology major.

Jongho has this devilish grin on his face. "Remember last year when we all went to that all paid expense getaway?" he laughed. "Surely, you don't think he..." he jutted his thumb at a seething Hongjoong. "...would plan that in the middle of nowhere?"

Another type of hell broke loose at that, but I was at a loss for words. I had nothing to prove myself for. San and I haven't spent the last few years together. "I...I don't know," I admitted. "I can't prove it."

"I can."

Everyone looked at San expectantly. He had this forlorn face, and I got nervous. Something tells me that I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear. "It's about that asshole over there."

He pointed at my stepfather, who was still knocked out. He was tied tightly on a rickety chair. I saw everyone's face tense when San said it. I stared at him, all the hurt that I had buried within me coming out in waves and I had hoped that San was just making it up. The look on his face confirmed that he was not.

"S-San?" I whispered, the betrayal hitting me for the second time. I looked at each and everyone of them. "You all know something."

I stood up from the couch angrily, everyone's eyes on me as angry tears started falling from my eyes. "You left me that day, gave me up like I was some trash you didn't want!" I shouted at San. "You made me believe that you were finally saving me..."

"Y/N, please calm down, I can explain," San begged, hugging my waists hurriedly. Well, thanks to his own strength, I managed to break away. "Y/N, please..."

Both Wooyoung and Yunho stood up to comfort me by holding my hand and rubbing my back soothingly. I couldn't push them away, they were always nice to me. The others just stared at me with pity in their eyes.

I felt the world slowly crashing down on me. I must look stupid, but nobody had ever asked why it had protected me all these years. "And you!" I angrily pointed at Hongjoong and Jongho. "You knew about me and San's predicament!"

Jongho sighed, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, I really am," he apologized. "Hongjoong and I have been working on it."

Hongjoong rubbed his temples. "Everyone, to your rooms. Now. Jongho, stay."

Everyone that passed me offered me consoling words, and that they were sorry. It was just me, San, Hongjoong, and Jongho left.

"I offer my apologies to you sincerely," Hongjoong began, facing my body as he spoke. "Although I can't say I'm too pleased with you, I understand your predicament."

"What the hell does that mean?" I scoffed.

Hongjoong raised his brow in amusement. "It's not really a secret that you hate Ateez, my dear, and in turn..." he gestured to San. "Him. Can I tell you a small secret?"

"Go ahead," I frowned.

"We are a peaceful group," he began. "The parties were a front for all the charity we do here."

I was surprised. He gestured at the big mirror at the wall and I stared at it. I gasped when he told me to look harder. It was a two way mirror. "A secret room?" I asked.

Hongjoong nodded. "I didn't want anyone randomly coming in and out of here, it was the best we could do. The feminine products were usually what the party people left behind."

It all made sense in my head - how people just worshiped them wherever we went, some of them with admiration, how San always defended them and how he absolutely hated it when I talked shit about them.

"As for your switch," Hongjoong cleared his throat. "We don't know why or how it happens, and honestly? We never dug deep into it, so unfortunately in that area, I'm afraid we can't help you."

My heart sank at his words. "So, we're going to stay like this forever? How did you guys turn back?"

"Hongjoong and I were arguing last year," Jongho started. "I'll spare you the details, let's just say it almost tore this group apart."

I saw San's brows lift up in surprise. Jongho continued. "I don't remember who, but one of us lowered our pride, and then the next day? Poof." Jongho gestured with his arms. "We were back."

"That's it?" San was spiteful and so was I. "We've pretty much solved our issues and we're still like this. You two never thought to look into it further?"

Hongjoong and Jongho looked at each other. "No," Jongho said. "Something out there that has this immense power and isn't meant to be questioned. You think whatever was out there playing with us will suddenly yield and listen?"

"Are there more of us out there?" San asked dreadfully.

"Yes," Hongjoong confirmed. "It's a secret we'll keep, however. Just like we'll keep yours. I'll talk to the boys. And as for this son of a bitch?"

He glared at my stepfather. "Leave it to me."

This was too personal. I got up and left the house in entirety despite everyone's protests from behind me. I swung the door open forcefully and ran out to the soaking rain aimlessly. It reminded me of that night when San and I switched as I looked up to the sky. There was also thunder looming up.

Where do I even begin? I cried as I walked aimlessly trying to find a way out of the campus. I only realized that the rain was cold because of all the adrenaline rushing out of me quickly and I stride forward, screaming and howling.

"Y/N, wait!"

I turned around and it was San, drenched just like me with the most gut-wrenching expression on his face. Tears free falled from his eyes, like the rain. "Let me explain, I'm begging you, please," he pleaded with all his might.

I slapped him, the sound of it louder than the thundering rain. His lips quiver and I almost gave in right there. "How can I ever trust you?!" I screamed at him.

He kneeled on the gravel, something I know would have bruised my knees, and looked up to me with the most forlorn expression. "Please, don't shut me out," he wailed. "My heart won't be able to take it."

It was just us, rain soaked in the melodramatic scene unfolding right in front of us. "You gave me to him, San!" I sobbed pathetically and tried my best to shove him off of me. "He ruined my life!"

I ripped him off of me and tried to run away, but I stopped when he hugged me from behind and buried his face on my back. His wails broke my heart to a million pieces. He began muttering something that I couldn't understand.

"Speak up before I get angrier!" I shouted. My tongue was a sword I'd sharpened because I was so sick of getting. "There was a time I'd lay down my arms for you, San--"

"He said he would never hurt you anymore if I gave you back to him!" he screamed.

Everything stopped at that moment - there was no wind, no tears, raindrops that fell stopped in time - it was just me and San. "Please, Y/N, please just listen to me--"

"I can't think of anything worse," I scoffed. "You think I believe you?"

"I swear!" San sobbed. "He said he'll kill you and find you if you don't return, Y/N..."

He turns me around and grabs my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes as more tears fall from my eyes. Everything hit me all at once, the beatings did stop but I thought it was because I went to college and he couldn't touch me.

"I should have been stronger for you that time," San wailed, leaning his forehead against mine. "There was never a day I didn't regret it."

We sobbed in each others arms as we got rained on, shivering like leaves, but we didn't care. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" my voice cracked. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't know, Y/N, I don't know!" he wept, desperately clinging onto me as I tried to get away from him. "I thought I was doing what was best for you..."

The moment I realized that I had misinterpreted his actions, his words, all of him for those years, that moment was when my heart broke even more. 

"Do you hate me that much, San?" I bellowed. It was the good kind of breaking; the type that led to healing and new ways onward.

"I don't, but I don't like you like that," he whispered. Sometimes, the loss of words would have said more.

His quivering lips landed on my forehead. "Because I love you," he confessed. 

MY heart soared, but I wasn't going to let him in. "You left me, San. You were all I had then you were gone!"

"You loved me?"

"That's all you heard?" I scoffed.

"What about now?" San asked hopefully. "Do you still love me?"

I laid all the truth out. "I don't know," I admitted. It was still raining at this point. "When you left, I had decided back then that our futures were different, even though we grew apart, and you know what I hate?"

I laughed sarcastically, tears falling from my eyes again, and I probably looked crazy. "I still held you above others. I still loved you even though I had nothing, no safety, no rights, no place to go, and no one to call to get me out of the hell I was placed onto." 

San grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards. "No," he whispered. "You never stopped loving me, please don't say you loved me."

We have always been like this, I realized - a ticking time bomb. It was worse now, especially now that we were older and the way San was looking at me, I knew that we were destined to explode.

"I can't let you go," he said, holding me closer. "I'm never going to let you go. I will always hate myself for letting our love die."

He held gaze, and it could have burned me with how intense it was. He was bitter, those eyes held loneliness. "I know forgiveness is not your strong suit," he whispered. 

"San," I cried.

"There was a point where I wouldn't know what to say if I had you," he chuckled remorsefully. "Forgive me."

I guess these were our final days separated and I can say without a doubt, nothing ended the way I thought it would. Both of us leaned together and our lips finally met and it felt right, as if our souls had been intertwined a long time ago.

And then we felt it - that hot, familiar, searing pain that passed through us, only this time, we didn't pass out.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking through San's uncertain ones this time. The real San. I looked down at my body and lifted the small hands I knew I had instead of San's big and rugged ones. 

"Oh my God!" I screamed ecstatically, jumping up and down happily. "We're back, San, we're back!"

"Thunder and forgiveness," San laughed sweetly. "Who would have thought?"

"I'm freezing though," I giggled, finally letting go of all the pain and suffering. "My dorm?"

San smirks mischievously, and I screamed joyfully when he lifted me up in his arms and started running hurriedly out of the rain. We missed being in our bodies so much that we reached my dorm in record time with San kicking the door down so harshly that it might have been broken, but we didn't care.

We kissed each other as we hurriedly took our clothes off, not breaking our lips. This is what I wanted, I craved for him - his scent, his warmth, and just him as a person.

I giggled when San bit my lips, each gentle bite giving pleasurable zings of electricity straight down there. I clenched my legs together as San pinned me by the wall, holding my arms up as he grabbed my hands and pinned them as well.

We broke the kiss to take a big gulp of air and the longest, deepest stare followed. "I love you," San whispered, this time giving me the slowest, sweetest kisses against my lips. "I love you so much."

Tears flowed from my eyes and through my tears I whispered back. "I love you too. Now fuck me before I go insane."

His eyes widen and he throws his head back and laughs out loud, his cute dimples showing on his cheeks. "Hold on," he laughed. "I've had your body for months yet this is the first time I've seen it. Let me admire it, please?"

I blushed, embarrassed by the way he says it. He laughs at my predicament. "San, come on..."

"As my princess commands," he smirked, leaning down on my ear. "I'm going to make you scream."

"San," I moaned softly when his hands slid down and gently squeezed my naked ass.

"Oh, I know you already feel good," he groaned. "Are you sure you want this?"

I nodded and he sighed. "Tell me now," he said softly. "I'm not going to be able to hold back."

I gave him a shy smile, and went on my tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips as my hand reached between his legs and began pumping his already hard cock back and forth slowly, teasing him and relishing the small grunts he was making.

"You like that?" I asked him softly.

"Mhhm," he groaned deeply. The way his face contorted into pleasure was sending me. "Keep going..."

I continued playing with his length - which by the way, definitely wasn't a little worm. He was above average; not too big, but definitely not small either. It was perfect and I loved it regardless. I couldn't hold back a shudder as I felt him buck his hips sensually over and over again on my hand.

He was confused when I suddenly stopped, his eyes glossing over something dark when I kneeled down until my face was eye level with his cock.

"Baby," he croaked when I looked up at him. "You don't have to."

"But I want to," I smiled impishly at him. His self-control was tethering almost close to the edge when I leaned forward and pressed my lips onto the tip of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," his deep growl resounded as he reached out and ran his fingers through my hair as I bobbed up and down his shaft, my cheeks hollowing as I tried hard to let my tongue slide underneath. I groaned against him when I felt him twitching inside my mouth.

The only thing sounding in the room right now was soft, sensual noises along with my gagging and San's grunts as I went faster, and faster. That is, until San pulled out all of a sudden. He groaned when he saw a trail of precum dripping from my mouth onto the floor.

"As much as I loved you sucking my soul through my cock," San laughed, pulling me up and pulling me close to him. I moaned softly when his eyes turned dark and predatory. "Can I fuck you?"

He didn't even let me finish, he began kissing me once more, this time, it was driven by lust instead of sweet surrender. His hands weren't idle either, he slid them up my tits and I moaned against his mouth as he squeezed them. He was gentle, yet persistent.

The kiss lingered for a moment when we both backed up until I landed over my soft bed with San going on top of me. Suddenly, anxiety hit me when his eyes started roaming around my body.

"Don't do that," I whispered, covering my body with the blanket. "I'm broken and bruised, not exactly sexy, isn't it?"

He smirked softly when I nervously laughed. It was true; all the permanent scars that never left my body and marked me in ways that will forever haunt me. I didn't want him to be turned off.

"What did I tell you?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out and lovingly tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears. 

My heart thudded against my ribcage as I curiously looked at him. He placed a sweet, chaste kiss on my forehead before he spoke out. "I told you I loved you, didn't I?" San smiled fondly. "That means I love all of you."

"Since when?"

He pretended to think about it, thoughtfully putting a hand to his chin. I laughed and jokingly clicked my tongue at him. I guess this was what love was; the way he was able to ebb away all my discomfort and assure me, make me believe, that I was fine. I loved him so much, it hurt.

"I don't know," he admitted. "One day, I just got mad whenever I imagined you slipping away from me." He kissed me again. "Angry whenever I'd think of someone claiming these." He kissed me once more. "Bitter whenever I'd think of someone else having you instead of me."

"Is that why you talked to Jeno like that earlier?" I rolled my eyes playfully and swatted him across the chest.

He rolled his eyes and nipped my lips almost painfully. "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring another man's name while I'm about to fuck you."

"So do it," I blurted out. "Fuck me."

He narrowed his eyes on me, long gone was his self-control. "You asked for this," San growled.

He gripped his stiff cock in between my already spread legs. I raised my ass to meet my wet hole against it, desperately moaning his name out. "Hurry up,"  I whined helplessly.

San looked me in the eyes as I felt him stroking and positioning himself along my throbbing cunt. He slid agonizingly slow inside of me, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact with me, until he completely bottomed out. We both moaned out at the delicious feeling of each other.

He would tease me with soft thrusts as I dug my nails on his back. "I knew you'd feel good," he exhaled sharply. "Fuck."

I unconsciously squeezed him and all his self control left him. He began thrusting slowly at first, and then picking up the pace when we both found our rhythm, little moans of pleasure escape us as we fucked each other.

"San, please!" I screamed, feeling every inch of him against my walls. My desperate moans made him rock against me faster, and harder.

"Louder, baby," he growled as he pistoned in and out of me. He leaned forward down my neck, biting and sucking on the soft flesh, its sound combined with the obscene slapping of skin against each other nearly undid me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," San's low moans reached my ears and his tongue tickled it as well, even nibling on it and sending an unexpected burst of pleasure through me. 

I bucked my hips up to meet his fastening thrusts. "Sannie, oh, just like that--"

I screamed when he slammed roughly down on me. "Say that again," he growled against my neck, the demand of it sending pleasurable tears in my eyes.

"W-What?" I managed to ask in between his invasion.

"Call me that again," he grabbed my hips and pulled me tight against him. "I'm begging you, baby, I need it."

"Sannie!" It came effortlessly anyway as I shook beneath his strong body and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Again," he grunted, pounding into me as our passions rose higher and higher. 

"Ah, Sannie, please," I cried out, thrusting my hips hard to meet his as I felt a familiar tingling sensation down my core and soft bursts of whimpers came out of me as he ground against me.

"Again, Y/N, again, fuck..."

"Sannie!"

This wasn't fucking - as cheesy as it may sound, we both knew that it was the both of us giving each other the love we couldn't for all these years. It was such an intimate experience and connection, even though we were going roughly at the same time.

"Again!"

I'm not usually one for domination and submission, but with him, I'll do anything. I know he won't hurt me.

San leans up a bit and he groans as he watches his cock go in and out of me. "God, you're so wet, babygirl," he smirked at my fucked out face. "I didn't even need to finger you..."

"Can you just keep fucking?" I snapped.

He laughed like the little demon he was, it turned me on so much, and he thrusted harder. "You really can't help acting like an ass even though I'm inside you, huh?"

I grinned. "It's not going to change."

San began going in and out faster and faster, his thrusts building in speed and power. I gaped, screams of pleasure filled the room, as San's throaty rumble of pleasure gave way as his thrusts became sloppier. I knew he was close.

"I'm going to cum inside you, oh fuck, can I cum inside you?" San's moans were getting more and more high-pitched. 

"Please!" I begged, digging my nails on his back.

He hammered himself into me, each thrust a jolt of burning heat as my own orgasm started to approach, and when San felt it, he began doing so more relentlessly. "S-San--"

It was a toe-curling orgasm, one I haven't felt before. San growled in my ear, saying my own over and over like a prayer, as I felt him shake, then wail, and then gasp. I moaned when I felt ropes of warm cum spurt into me over and over, again and again. 

His thrusts subsided and he pulled me into a tired and tender kiss, our lips lazily against each other, and then we laughed hard at what just happened. Something tells me we were going to be alright.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙴:

It turns out we didn't need to correct San's parents, after all. Imagine how pleased Mrs. Choi was when we told her we were making it official.

"Ready to go, babe?" San lovingly asked as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. When he struggled to put on his tie, he sheepishly smiled at me.

"Need help, tough guy?" I smirked, standing up from the couch and making my way to San. "Kiss me first."

He didn't waste any time and gave me a kiss that rivaled every poet's work and it spoke volumes about the passion we shared.

We broke off and laughed at all the complaints and protests we received from the entire group. Ah, I suppose I'm part of their little group now and we were currently in the frat house.

"Ugh, Lord Almighty, you two are disgusting," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, clearly disturbed. "Decency is not a concept known to both of you, is it?"

He walked over to me and San and pulled him away from me. "I'll fix it," he referred to the tie. "Before you two start dry humping." 

"Rude," I glared jokingly.

"Kind of miss when you two hated each other," Mingi grimaced, plopping next to a snickering Yunho, who said. "Right, there would be none of..." He pointed at me and San accusingly. "...that."

"Jealous of the lack of love in your lives?" San questioned. Mingi and Yunho looked at each other and blushed. "Or not."

Suddenly, a glass of delicious looking smoothie was shoved in my face. It was Wooyoung, who was giving me a pointed look. "What's this?" I frowned, inspecting it.

"Breakfast shake," he shrugged. He patted my back. "No time to eat before you guys go. Good luck, hmm?"

"Thank you," I grinned. "You were an unexpected friend."

"Unless the smoothie gives you diarrhea," Yeosang chimed in. I laughed when Wooyoung turned red and he was about to shout when we all heard Hongjoong yell from outside the house.

"Oi, loverboy! Get in the car before me and Jongho drive off and you'll be walking!"

"Alright," Yeosang pulls me into a small hug. "Goodluck, okay?"

"Give us good news, okay?" Seonghwa smiled tightly while he ushered us out to Hongjoong's car.

I giggled like a schoolgirl when San opened the door for me and I sat beside Jongho in the back, who rolled his eyes dramatically at us while making gagging sounds.

It was hilarious how me and San, hopeless romantics, got stuck with Hongjoong and Jongho, the non-hopeless romantics.

"Nervous?" Jongho asked me while Hongjoong and San walked through what to do when we got to our destination.

I unconsciously touched the marred, disfigured cigarette burn on my shoulder, and it didn't escape Jongho's attention. "Don't," he pursed his lips tightly. "Don't let him win."

San and I decided one day that everyone needed to know everything from the beginning - how San and I were childhood friends, my abusive stepfather after my mother died, San being threatened by him, all of it. The night that I cried in San's arms was also the night that I gained seven more friends.

"I know, I won't let you guys down," I assured. "Thank you for doing this, both of you, you didn't have to."

Hongjoong looked at me through the rear mirror with concern. "You didn't see what we all saw that day," he tensely said. "I was driving home excited to see everyone, and what did I see?"

He paused to collect his thoughts. "A big man beating San to death and an unconscious girl on the ground while the rest tried to scramble outside. Do you have any idea how I felt when Jongho told me your bodies were switched?"

"Being witnesses to the trial is what we want, believe me," Jongho said.

Tears started forming in my eyes. My stepfather ruined everything for me - my life and my childhood specifically. I lost a lot of time with San and I'm so mad that I lost out on these wonderful people. Better late than never, I suppose, at least we're here now.

Sooner or later, me and San were holding hands outside of the courthouse. I didn't want to do it, but Wooyoung and Yeosang were the ones that convinced me the most that I should press charges against my stepfather. San also decided to press charges for blackmail. Mingi called his brother to arrest him, and Yunho's father was kind enough to represent me as my lawyer.

"Like what you see?" San smirked when he noticed me ogling at him. He smiled at me mischievously. "Maybe we can...do some stuff when we get home."

I playfully slapped his arm. "Pervert," I rolled my eyes. "You do look good though, I love your hair like this."

"You do? The blonde isn't jarring?" San asked, obviously anxious about it the natural blonde piece of hair 

"Nah," I fixed his hair a bit for him and he revels in it. He loves getting his hair touched, at least by me. "Maybe we could dye the blonde like a teal blue for a change if you want."

"Sounds good, babe," he agreed. We giggled a bit before we had to become serious again. 

We both stared at the daunting courthouse in front of us. "It's anticlimactic, huh?" San kissed my hand lovingly. "The ending, at least."

"It's better this way, I guess," I shrugged. 

When we switched bodies back, we pretty much never talked about it ever again, just like Hongjoong and Jongho never did.

"How so?" San wondered.

I smiled at him and pulled him close to me so I could give him a tight hug. "Those days we spent apart were hard for me," I whispered. "But we grew separately and now we're better together because of it."

San held my face tenderly in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes. "Having you back means the world to me," he spoke. "Just do me a favour this time, okay?"

I looked at him expectantly. "Stay," he smiled. "Please stay with me, promise me."

"So as long as you don't leave me again," I answered with a bittersweet smile on my face. "Let's do this."

I loop my arm on his and he seemed pleased. "Let's," he laughed, then leaning so we could share one more sweet kiss before we faced the world together.

In his kiss are years I know we'll spend together and the sweetness of the love we'll share as days go by. In his kiss, I am home.

[ybklix]

somebody’s watching me

♱‧₊˚.pairing: lee minho x camgirl!femreader ⋆⁺₊✧ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Meeting a mysterious and secretive man excites every part of you, yet without you realizing it, he watches you from his window on a lonely night, not aware that it would ignite a new behavior in him. ⋆｡°⛧ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI, smut, stalker & soft dom minho, perv and obsessive tendencies, voyeurism, mention of sex worker, teasing, overstimulation, sextape, fingering, masturbation, cunnilingus, chocking, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, slight dirty talk, cumplay, cumshoot, sex toys, mention of mental illness. ⭒₊ ⊹✩₊˚.₊ ⊹⭒ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 18.5k

♬⋆.˚ somebody’s watching me by rockwell 🕸️ every breath you take by the police

(𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) - 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 02: psycho

It was such a lonely night, he didn’t know exactly why he felt that way, besides the obvious fact that he was alone; he came home alone, just like any other day of his life, being greeted by no one but the sweet and warm company of 3 felines, which was more than enough for him, but Lee Minho had already gotten so used to that. He arrived tired from his work, with no thoughts in his mind and acting more automatically with his routine: getting to his apartment, taking a shower and trying to relax, abandoning the immensity of thoughts that flooded his head more and more like annoying voices repeating the same thing over and over again, what was he doing with his life and the existential question if it was really worth what he was doing, he was an adult, an average man, seemingly normal to everyone’s eyes, but he was hiding his own demons and secrets, as he was no longer a proper guy, he was a private detective working in one or another questionable job, making him live in the shadows because, despite his tough image, he lived in uncertainty and in the indescribable fear of humanity, Minho had seen so much that he was not proud of, and that made him think that he was a terrible person… sometimes he felt too much and sometimes he was just a completely heartless guy doing his job.

It was hard for him to live before society as an average man, living alone, a citizen blending in among the people, but his real hidden life was more than that. He gave up working for justice long ago just for a little money, leading him to have the apartment of his dreams in one of the best and safest areas of the city… but sometimes he wondered at what cost, if he never felt satisfied, much less safe, he didn’t even trust his own shadow. He was recruited years ago for his incredible finding ability and among other things, Lee Minho was a damn modern ninja, he knew how to fight, kill, and was so stealthy and clean with his moves, but none of that caused him pride, sometimes he wondered, what did he need in his life to experience even the true sentiment of feeling fulfilled.

Minho sighed, he really didn’t understand why the sudden feeling of wanting to fill his life. But there he was again questioning himself. His alarm suddenly rang, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and instantly silenced it, he grimaced, knowing exactly what it referred to… it was his medication time. His job was not easy, he was rolling in money doing favors and special missions… in exchange for a bit of his deteriorating mental health, post trauma and stress were real, he used to go to the psychiatrist on Thursdays and had his special medication to get back to being the same average and functional man… otherwise he would go crazy, or at least he thought so. Anxiety, paranoia, and small episodes of delirium that were labeled as schizophrenia and certain antisocial personality traits accompanied a poor Minho. His doctor warned him that he could not live alone, that he feared he would suddenly suffer a psychotic break and he knew the risk of being given pills without keeping track of them so every day he visited his doctor for his daily dose. Minho was a patient of psychiatrist Dr. Kim, a patient of very detailed importance, and his curiosity about him grew every day because deep down he felt that there was something in Minho that he needed to work on better… but Minho’s money was also very important, enough to shut him up, plus he was a little afraid of him because of the dangerous work that Lee Minho was involved in.

He took the small plastic bag with his pills out of his jeans pocket, put them in the palm of his hand, and looked at them, a combination of antipsychotics and antidepressants… knowing what he was taking put him even more in a loop of emotions, it depressed him to know he was dependent on drugs in his youth, he was unhappy and the constant fear of having no purpose ate at him again, the anxiety returned, over thinking if he was doing the right thing, if this was what his life should be or if he was wasting his potential, Minho was a killing machine and a lethal weapon of intelligence gathering, he was agile, stealthy, clean, smart and cunning. He was a modern-day spy and ninja.

Minho bit his lip, hesitating whether to take his medication or leave it for that night…. he saw his cat rubbing between his feet… and abruptly and suddenly closed his hand, deciding not to take them that day. He wanted to feel normal, a young man of almost thirty, living alone, enjoying his night because his heavy work was over, so far Minho had no mission and just the one he had finished had left him so economically rewarded as to take his things and run away on vacation… but no he didn’t exactly want that, he felt he wanted to enjoy his solitude, his apartment, he was a bit antisocial, he didn’t feel like socializing with people, he wanted to feel normal and his mind spun thinking about what a normal man at his age could do.

He sighed again, this time audibly, tossing the pills on his desk almost contemptuously, his medication was putting him to sleep, making him feel out of himself, or at least that’s what he felt. The silence made him hopelessly uncomfortable, making him nervous, and he ran to his living room only to turn on the television, letting himself watch the news channel, just to hear something more than his constant and disturbing thoughts; he didn’t pay attention to the TV and kept walking in the darkness of his apartment, he had forgotten to turn on the lights, he was about to do it but the impulse of wanting to be illuminated by the city and the night took over him, suddenly opening the curtains of his big window, his mind went from one thought to another, while he opened the curtain he thought of ordering some dinner and watching a movie, doing little things that someone sane and healthy would do, without getting carried away by the calming effect of the medication that would put him to bed in seconds. He was going to have energy, maybe drink alcohol, he hadn’t consumed it in a long time because he was on medication… but every one of his thoughts ceased just as he saw you.

For the first time in a long time his mind experienced silence and tranquility, for the first time in a long time each of his senses awoke to something unrelated to his work.

In front of his window was another apartment building, popular for being an old and exclusive building where most of its residents were older people, adults with families, businessmen, and people with money, it was a serious building, and it was so rare to see a young woman alone living in that building… unless of course, you were a young newlywed living in your first kind of ‘home’, Minho knew everything about the area he lived in, he knew what each of his neighbors did and who were the people who lived in his apartment building, not because he was sociable and knew them casually… but he knew every detail because of his careful, suspicious and obsessive personality. His doctor wanted to call it something else… one more diagnosis to his list instead of just calling it something characteristic of the intelligent, investigative nature of his personality, because clearly, the behavior was not normal. But Minho knew little about his neighbors in the building across the street, he knew the names of some, and their occupations, and he knew enough to not consider anyone a threat or something he should be on the lookout for… or have an episode of paranoia. He knew of the one young man who lived there at 221-B who looked about his age range named Han Jisung, who was the son of a major millionaire, who moved there because that street meant money, status, and elite and that Jisung would bump into Minho from time to time on his morning jogs, acting friendlier than Minho could stand since they were the same age and the only young men on the street.

He flicked his eyeballs in a quick glance at the windows of the people across the street, disinterested and ready to continue on his way through his home… but something, in particular, stopped him from moving forward, something so captivated his gaze that it made him remain in shock, stopping his gaze on that fixed point, transfixed in his spot as he opened his big round eyes, shocked and absorbed at what was going on in that apartment and what he witnessed that night of which suddenly became uncommon and exciting.

Minho licked his lips, unable to believe it and unable to take his eyes off that window, the movements of his eyes were fast and agile catching every detail of what was happening in that apartment… for the first time in a long time, thousands of sensations exploded inside him, unknown sensations beyond the adrenaline of the constant danger and fear in his daily work, beyond the mental illnesses that were bringing him down every day… it was thrilling, exciting, forbidden and kinky. Who are you…? It was the only thing that crossed his mind as you took his breath away. It was a beautiful girl, the silhouette of her, naked on her bed, with her body illuminated in what seemed to be an led light recording, it was you, a stranger to Minho, completely without the slightest idea that they could see you because you trusted the seller saying that your window was one of those where you could not see inside during the night, so you had just moved in and you were making your typical adult content, pornographic and dirty which generated you an exaggerated amount of money.

Minho was hiding in the dark, watching you, analyzing your every move with curiosity as if he was witnessing a woman’s naked body for the first time as if he was discovering pornography and living in shame of being discovered, starting to excite his manly body… you were making him question, when was the last time he had felt this sexually aroused, when was the last time he had masturbated out of boredom, and excitement, the last time he had fantasized or desired someone, the last time he had been intimate, had sex… possessed another woman’s body for pleasure. He cursed his antidepressants, thinking it was obvious that the adverse effects from his long-term medication were affecting him, diminishing his libido.

He watched you lustfully, his cock getting harder and harder, he watched your silhouette sideways, spreading your legs as you gently and slowly inserted a dildo into your cunt, how your head fell back moaning in arousal and your hair fell gracefully, how you looked seductively to the front where you gently bit your lip and massaged your naked soft breasts as your hand pushed the sex toy into you, Minho delighted, almost imagining the sound of your moans and then watched as you settled back to pretend you were riding the dildo. He not only examined your naked body but admired, what he could from a distance, your sweet, pretty jovial profile side.

He felt dirty, and lurid, like a hormonal young man magically discovering that a hot neighbor was the most typical and dreamed-of sexual fantasy, a young woman who lived for the adult entertainment industry… he felt like a man again.

He examined the room, there wasn’t much more than your bed and the tripod with what appeared to be a cell phone…. Minho deduced… you were either recording yourself for later, or you were one of those of which they were live. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to find you right now. He let out a gasp and felt his cock throb painfully choking in his pants, he couldn’t stop watching you… but he had something better to watch if you were doing it live. He cursed in annoyance that he had to take his eyes off of you and with bated breath and trembling hands —sensations of which deep down he was rejoicing in pleasure and happiness that he could feel alive again and not like some kind of inhuman, unhappy creature— he grabbed his cell phone, quickly searching the database of the building across the street, it took him three minutes to log in and find out the name and identity of each of his guests. Minho was desperate, his heart pounding because he had to find out who you were and what pages you were on, now. He was still looking straight ahead making sure you were there while he was in a desperate wait to be able to hack into the system.

He blinked suddenly, thinking quickly about what floor you were on and what your apartment number might be.

There you were. Shining before his eyes just as you were just now in your room.

Y/n — 223-B. Female. DOB: 11/02/2002. You were young, too young for him, to live alone and do those things, he thought. But he couldn’t let you go like that. You were the one who made him feel human again. He was becoming obsessed.

He studied your data and in frustration rushed for his laptop, turning it on and bringing it right in front of his window. Something in him told him he must feel like a maniac to be doing all that… but another part taking over told him it was feeling so good… to have a purpose, a mission, to find out something he was genuinely interested in. He repeated your name in his head over and over again. Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.

Minho rubbed the bridge of his nose, frustrated, about to act the fastest in his entire career so he could find out about you, in two minutes he got every social network of yours, your academic history, birthplace, and phone number. He knew that getting information took some time but he wanted to know what kind of services you did and there it suddenly was. Your OnlyFans username. Minho sighed in relief and again a rush of adrenaline filled his body, it felt so wrong but so right, he was so curious.

He filled in data quickly, linked his card with the data already saved on his laptop, and was impressed to see how famous you were on such a site… and there you were. Live. Minho looked up at your window one last time before he went engrossed to the first thing he could sit at and put his laptop on, his table. More quality, more closeness, and a close-up of your beautiful sweet pussy, swollen from constant stimulation, dripping and glistening, Minho felt virginal, a first-timer watching something so exciting. He looked around the rest of the room, white walls, and horror movie posters… you liked horror movies then, you lived alone as only your name was registered in the database... and you were so young making that content, it was wrong, so wrong he guiltily pulled his cock out of his pants and began to masturbate to your image, moaning through his teeth as he felt his pulsating erection on his rough hand, fantasizing about fucking you, about having his tongue trapped in your slick… he missed the feeling of masturbating, of feeling alive and with purpose, in a soft moan you made Lee Minho cum and filled his hand with his semen, you had changed him forever. But he couldn’t help but feel jealous of the other people who could see you and were doing the same as him.

Minho wanted to get to know you up close, but suddenly his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to hear your voice and know why you were doing it... who are you.

Minho was able to hack into your account and see all the content you had for free, but something in him thought you were worth every fucking penny. That night was like no other, he cummed so many times he ended up exhausted, his cock and hand sore and tender, scared of everything his body could throw out. That night Minho spent it like a sick man watching absolutely every video and picture of you, masturbating uncontrollably until he left his cock red from the constant stimulation… if that was what you caused him without even knowing you, he already wanted to have you all to himself… but it wasn’t all a dirty sexual fantasy, it was also a dirty dark obsessive fantasy.

That night Minho didn’t sleep at all, he investigated every detail about you. He found out where you grew up, what schools you attended, that you used to live with your mother and stepfather, you have an older brother a couple of years older than Minho, your father died when you were fifteen but your parents were divorced since you were little, you have a 12-year-old younger half-sister whom you miss, you just finished college but you started your OnlyFans account earlier this year. Since then in all these months your popularity has grown to the point of taking you to live in that building. You had two best friends, one of them lives in the city in another area, Minho knew their names, occupations, ages, and workplaces and that they had been your friends since childhood. You had a boyfriend at 17 but it was nothing serious, you lasted two months, you love the horror genre, and art and cinema are your real passions, but you studied and graduated in something more practical because you had little hope of making money graduating in arts, you gave up your dreams but now you were generating millions making adult content… Minho wondered if that was your dream.

You for your part, after that precise live streaming you felt a little strange… besides the fact that you overstimulated yourself and were recording yourself while masturbating, but you had an eerie feeling that someone was watching you, so you closed your curtain and decided to go about your activities with the window covered.

Minho saw your window with the curtain in place the next morning, but he knew it all by then. You are generally shy, but charismatic, you graduated with a high GPA from high school and were doing well in college. You come from a small town and no one but your best friends know about your source of income as an adult content creator, you fool your mother and stepfather that you have a steady job in the city in an office and send them money from time to time, you lived with your best friend after graduating until you just moved out on your own on Roxbury St. and you had a small job in an old and famous bookstore which the owner is an old artist who worked in movies, galleries and so on. You worked Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, 9 to 5 to keep your mind busy, to feel unashamed to walk down the street, as if the night before you hadn’t recorded yourself over-stimulating and self-pleasuring yourself.

Then Minho put his plan in action, his new mission was you, beyond fucking you, he wanted to hear your voice, to know you better, you seemed so cute, sweet, tender, and innocent to keep doing that kind of content, he was so curious about you, if at some point you will try to resume your dream by paying your own career, if you need help in something and he can give it to you; he was nervous, imagining your voice, your gestures, and manners… the only thing he had no idea about was your type, Minho wanted to make the best impression on you, he wanted you to like him, your last boyfriend was a skinny freckled guy absolutely nothing to do with Minho, but still he had some hope… he never considered himself unattractive, but it was little details he never stopped to think about, in fact, he had stopped thinking about women and flirting since a long time ago, until you showed up.

He smoothed out his sweater and entered the bookstore, the scent of cinnamon and apple filled him completely. A sound of a bell opening the door accompanied him, he looked to the side, finding the place classically decorated in dark wood and dim light only, but he was looking for you. You were tidying up the main desk a bit, passing the time, until you heard the little bell on the door and settled your body to look quickly towards the entrance, with the slight hope of meeting the grandson of the owner of the place, who was handsome and you couldn’t help but have a little crush on him, but you were surprised to find another equally handsome man, with an enigmatic and magnetic beauty, dressed in a navy blue sweater with white stripes, light blue jeans and white shoes, his appearance was clean, fresh and manly. You approached him happily.

He looked for you with his eyes, subtly without looking like a crazy person that the only thing he wanted was to see you and a smile without showing his teeth formed on his face when he saw you approaching him, accelerating his heart, making him feel like an excited teenager and finally you were next to him, a little more than a foot away, you smiled shyly at him, putting your arms behind your back. Minho studied your every move, your every blink, it was as if a divine figure was approaching him in slow motion, with a divine melody in the background, as if you were shining and an imaginary wind was playing with your hair. He saw everything about you, from your black mini skirt, dr. martens boots, your thin white strapless blouse and the modestly cute pink cardigan you wore on top, with a necklace adorning your neck. He couldn’t believe he had you this close.

“Welcome,” you said politely. Honestly, there was no one else in the store, so not approaching him seemed rude. Besides, he was a cute guy. “Can I help you with anything?”

Minho’s world stopped at the sound of your voice, his skin bristled, it was as if a beautiful, cool, soothing autumn breeze delicately hit his face, a feeling he had stopped enjoying so long ago. He was thankful he was wearing a sweater, otherwise you would have seen his arm hairs bristle and his skin change. He thought you were prettier up close, your makeup intact, your sweet, floral perfume scent, he felt he was dreaming for a moment.

“Mmm… I’ll just be watching” he spoke a little nervously, forgetting the last time he talked to a girl he liked, “Well, actually, I’m looking for something by Lovecraft and Stephen King.”

Your smile widened a little and Minho noticed the sparkle in your eyes, locking his gaze with yours. Bingo, Minho had hit the target. You took the bait, you loved horror. And it was true, an attractive man walks into your workplace, black-haired, honey-smooth skin, big, dark, sharp eyes, straight velvety eyebrows with a soft arch, long eyelashes, sharp nose and lips in the shape of a soft heart, he dressed well, smelled good and was looking for something in the horror genre, the quick thought that he was the man of your dreams and the love of your life crossed your mind.

“Sure, the horror section is in the second aisle… do you want me to help you if you’re looking for something specific…?”

Please say yes, you thought, wanting to spend more time with the cute guy.

“Sure, please…”

You smiled, walking beside him to the bookshelves.

“Anything special?” you asked.

Minho couldn’t help but seek to look into your eyes, in a way you found it tender and intense, his big eyes slightly wider, watching you, you liked it.

“Well, from Lovecraft I want something that's good for a 9 year old girl who likes horror to start to read, and from King it’s something recreational for me.”

But what a choice of words, you thought.

Your hopes went to the floor, thinking please please please, this girl is not about his daughter, he looked young, but older than you, plus he didn’t wear a ring on his finger… there was nothing wrong with him having a daughter, just that your little fantasy made in 5 seconds would fall apart.

“Ah, I understand” you pretended to look through the books, wanting to disguise your next question, “Do you have a younger sister…?”

“Oh no, well, almost” he snickered, “It’s for my best friend’s little sister’s present but his family is practically mine too.”

You pouted tenderly, relieved to hear it was just that; he was cute, liked horror and got along well with kids, it was too good to be true. Minho knew how to hit the target again. You loved horror and using a little girl as an excuse would make you remember the great love you have for your little sister and make you sympathize with him more. He had it under control; what he couldn’t control was whether or not after that little encounter you would end up liking him or not, but he hoped you would.

“Well, there’s this collection of Lovecraft stories is good and for you…”

Minho saw you with a small smile and you were interrupted by his arm reaching out to grab a book, passing close to your face.

“I’ll take secret window, secret garden, I wanted to see the movie but I think I’ll read the book first.”

He gave you a shy smile as he held his book in his hands and you looked at him engrossed and gone for a second… feeling a strange sensation in you… maybe butterflies, maybe restlessness, you wondered if this man was your destiny or why all of a sudden so many connections: you had literally just rated and left a comment 3 days ago on your Letterboxd account about the 2004 movie based on that book.

“Yeah… the movie is good” you replied gone.

Minho frowned, studying your movements, “So… should I read the book first or watch the movie?”

“Ah, never mind, I don’t have a specific order. I like the movies more. Anything else?” you added, coming out of your trance.

“I think that’s all for now…. thank you.”

“Well, let’s go to the counter.”

Minho didn’t want to get away from you just like that, in his mind you were somewhat more talkative, more outgoing to him and you had a radiant personality, just like the first minutes of meeting you but he noticed how little by little that glow was gone from you, like you were disappointed… he wondered if he had done something wrong.

It was obvious that you were a little glum, you liked that stranger, you didn’t even know his name but you saw yourself together with him having little dates… maybe it was a little exaggerated and hasty to think but, he looked young, cute and that’s how dating and relating after all worked, with a stranger you suddenly know and like, but you have a very big problem in yourself. As much as you wished you were a simple girl living in the big busy city, with your perfect makeup and perfect attire being nothing more than a woman working in a bookstore… you weren’t, you were a sex worker and you always believed that no man was going to take you seriously, in situations like that you just wanted to cry, you wanted the cute guy to pay and walk away leaving you to wander in your deeply sunken heart. You had this belief that any man was going to humiliate you or run away from you as soon as you confessed to him the real way you get money… and you couldn’t leave the job, it really was such a good economic livelihood, the money was exaggerated and you were only in that bookstore to clear your mind and not feel dirty all the time that what you do is practically filming yourself masturbating, plus you were a great admirer of the bookstore owner and the old man had an appreciation for you since he believed you were a good young girl, he looked at you with such pure eyes that made your day. Sometimes you thought you would end up alone, as youth didn’t last forever and people get bored fast, sometimes you thought you had to start flirting with people in the same industry as you.

Oh, but you had absolutely no idea who the man standing in front of you was and what he was capable of. He already knew that and more about you, he was obsessed.

You charged the man, biting your lip nervously, this time avoiding eye contact, you couldn’t help but feel lonely all of a sudden, you wanted a normal life but you had that social rejection for yourself, directly assuming that making money doing what you did was something shameful.

“Mmm and… don’t you wrap books here as gifts or something?” he suddenly spoke, meeting your gaze, bending down gently as you were still crestfallen.

You chuckled softly and looked up to see his big eyes sparkle.

“No… in fact no one has ever asked before, but for what it’s worth, I think you can use the bag as such, it’s nice.”

Minho looked at the details of the paper bag, decorated and printed in the bookstore’s unique design.

“Ahh, sure, the bookstore of the great artist Hwang Hyunwoo, it’s my first time here, really, it’s nice, I think I will come back… for more books.”

“Well, you only brought one” you smiled at him, playing along a bit.

Minho, a handsome stranger in front of you, laughed, adorably showing his teeth.

“True, but it’s because I want to come back” you blushed a little and Minho couldn’t resist, he wanted to let you know he was interested, give you those subtle signals, “You work here every day?”

“Mmm, yes” you answered shyly for the first time, over analyzing his look, his body language, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up, still you answered him, “I’m here almost every day, on Saturdays Mr. Hwang’s grandson is here and on Sundays it’s closed.”

He smiled broadly, “That’s good to know, thank you… since I moved in recently I’ve been trying to look for different healthy habits and relax, like reading a book, maybe you can recommend me more of the new stuff that came in” he added tenderly, putting it on the air that he just moved in.

He just moved in, just like you. Once again you took the bait just as he wanted you to and again you said subtly and softly.

“Sure, you can come over anytime. Did you move nearby?”

“Not really, I came here because I wanted to get to know the place but now I live on Roxbury street.”

Your heart pounded hard, it was too many connections and coincidences that you couldn’t take it anymore, you were almost scared, scared that someone this perfect and cute would suddenly come into your grey life. This time you didn’t want to play along, you wanted him to leave before you could get to know each other more, before he ends up horrified or inside a fantasy with a merely sexual purpose with you.

“Oh, I see. Yes it is a bit far, but… I hope you can come soon.”

Minho again noticed your sudden change, your muffled tone of voice, in his mind you should have said excitedly that you lived on the exact same street… but your reaction was very different than planned, leaving you more as someone unpredictable and mysterious, leaving Minho even more intrigued about anything and everything about you.

“I will. Thank you… what’s your name?” he dared to say, earning from you to look him warmly in the eyes again.

He knew, but he wanted your first meeting to be so natural and a nice chance.

“Y/N.”

“I’m Minho. It was a pleasure, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a nice day” you smiled at him.

Of course it would be a nice day for Minho. He talked to you, came closer to you, saw your smile dazzle his face and your fingers which naughtily played with your femininity the night before. From today he could not stop. Your new story had already begun.

You watched him leave and sighed as soon as he walked through the door and lost himself in the crowd and on the sidewalk. You sighed taking all the air out as if you were holding your breath. Minho, you thought, Minho from Roxbury, your exact same street… he must have money, he looked so ordinary, you mean, like a nice man, but his beauty was unmatched.

You continued your regular activities while Minho managed to sneak into the perfect spot to watch every movement in the bookstore. He sat by the window of the coffee shop across the street, so he watched each of the customers coming in, counting the approximate time they were coming in, all the while pretending to read a book, eat, and be on his laptop. Everything was going well, until a tall, black-haired man with a thin build came in around 4 p.m. and after half an hour he immediately made Minho uneasy.

Minho couldn’t see anything of him, other than his back, his clothes and his long shoulder-length hair, but to his luck, the man had parked his luxurious car right in front of the bookstore, causing Minho to have the license plate number, but to his fate, he felt under pressure, as if someone was watching him, as if the people in the coffee shop were watching him so he couldn’t comfortably perform his stalker activities, discovering even the guy’s dirtiest secret just by his license plate. And he didn’t want to go to the bathroom either to have privacy, he would lose sight of you and lose sight of the guy. So Minho found a secret way to look up the information on his phone, secretly putting it under the table and starting his search.

Hwang Hyunjin. He was the owner of the car, and probably of the store, since it was Hwang Hyunwoo’s grandson, and he was also clearly the man who came in and was still in the store from a while ago, with you alone since no one else had come in anymore… plus you were not long in closing, Minho thought since it was 4:44 p.m. and the Hyunjin didn’t get out of there.

He began to fret, to get annoyed. He shook his leg frantically in despair as his gaze darkened and he didn’t take his eyes off the bookstore, more than forty minutes had passed and Minho could only think of the worst, it was torturing him not being able to know exactly what was going on and what he was to you. If Minho wanted total control of you he would have to steal your cell phone so he could transfer all the information to him and see your every move on the cell phone… but he wouldn’t do that plus he wanted to know what you were doing face to face with someone else, every second that passed he was losing more of his sanity; he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else, you were already his, or so he thought. Hyunjin was rich, a grown man, he was married but shit, you were too beautiful not to want to risk everything for a simple caress or kiss from you.

4:46. Hyunjin was with you for forty-six minutes by yourselves. Absolutely anything could have happened in that time, caressing your body, running his hands through your hair, Minho wanted to murder him as soon as he saw Hyunjin get out of there and get into his vehicle to leave. Minho would have followed him… but the good news was that you did not leave with him.

Sixteen minutes passed and at exactly 5:01 you closed the place. By that time Minho was already waiting in his car, ready to follow you, since he already knew you were walking all that long way from work to your apartment.

On the other hand, you didn’t have the slightest idea that you were being followed by the cute boy you met in the afternoon that you couldn’t get out of your head, Minho… until, of course, then Hyunjin showed up at the bookstore and you completely forgot about Minho’s existence. You liked Hyunjin from the first moment you met him, when you shyly came to ask for a job and he was standing next to the legend, and his grandfather Hwang Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo and Hyunjin quickly trusted you and put you in the absolute care of the bookstore like they had never done with anyone before. You were grateful, plus you could occasionally delight visually and in all platonic realms with Hwang Hyunjin, as he was older, another well-known artist and a married man. You still enjoyed every second you spent with him because he was like a pure and cute crush who made you remember how human you were. Hyunjin was gentle, shy and cute, his flirtations were soft and subtle, never crossing the fine line between you and the great tension of kissing whenever you were alone in a room.

Hyunjin arrived that day to tidy up a bit since he would be working the next day. He stayed a while ordering the books and checking boring inventories when… you both knew it was a silly excuse to see you, and that put you in a very good mood. You both chatted. You helped him, always by his side, passing him books and taking the opportunity to brush his hand every time you did it since it was the only way you could touch him.

You were walking happily, almost with a dazed smile on your face. With Hyunjin you didn’t have that insecurity of him finding out you were that kind of girl who does that kind of content, in fact, you fantasize about him finding out one day and not stopping fantasizing about you, you fantasize about the idea of him touching himself behind his wife’s back, with his cheeks pink, shame and guilt on his face, with his hand on his cock, stimulating himself with pictures and videos of you that with regret he has to pay for. After all, your crush on him sometimes wasn’t so pure… is that, Hyunjin had a strange way of treating you, sometimes he would treat you like a little girl, tousle your hair and look at you tenderly, sometimes he would see you so uniquely and inexplicably, as if his dark thoughts were taking over him, you fantasized about the idea of him finding out what you were doing and stop seeing you as an innocent little girl and dare to take you and fuck you… but that was a thought that went to the extreme.

Still, Hyunjin left you more confused than usual, as he said he had something for you and would go and bring it to you, leaving… but you didn’t know whether to wait for him or not, whether to bother him by calling his number or leave it at that, but you left without waiting for him, acting even weirder, you were afraid he wouldn’t show up and leave you waiting so you just left as soon as it was your time to go.

Minho followed your steps, sneaking out from his car. He knew exactly which road you used to take, a lightly used route that left him in better total control to observe you. He had absolutely everything under control until, at a certain point, another car managed to get in front of his. Now, being the one that was following you closely, Minho knew exactly who it was.

For a couple of minutes you were starting to feel nervous, a little scared, as if someone was behind you watching your every step. You didn’t want to turn around, because you were afraid that it would encourage or incite more whoever was following you, a silly idea, for someone obsessed with mystery and horror movies, but happening in real life made your hair stand on end. You reached a lonely street, rarely occupied, making you even more paranoid, why you suddenly felt you were being watched…

Then something happened that almost made you run, you saw out of the corner of your eye the car leveling out as you were walking down the sidewalk, you saw the figure of the car pull over, but you continued your walk scared, holding tightly the pepper spray and your self-defense kit in your sweater pocket; usually you used to have nice and relaxing walks, you didn’t understand why today it felt so strange.

The guy in the car accelerated further, stopping a distance ahead of you from your walk, so you could recognize the vehicle and guess perfectly who it was.

Your racing heart calmed down a bit, and you took your hand out of your pocket, but you still felt uneasy because you could have sworn it was someone else and not him, who gave you a smile as soon as you approached the car.

“Hyunjin?” you said with a smile.

He quickly rolled down his window and showed a happy countenance.

You were glad yet you felt a rush of fear and hesitation, as a car passed by at a moderately low speed, as if they wanted to watch you, you followed the car pass by with your eyes and as soon as it was out of your sight your attention returned to Hyunjin.

“What are you doing here? I told you to wait for me, I had something for you. Sorry if I was late, honey. It’s about to rain, get in the car, please.”

The nickname made you crazy in so many ways and you obeyed him instantly.

Minho parked in a strategic spot where you couldn’t observe his car, but he saw every detail of you getting into Hyunjin’s car, filling him with anger.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know if you would come back” you replied already sitting in the passenger seat.

Hyunjin stared at you.

“Of course I would come back. I just forgot the little gift and wanted to give it to you now.”

You got excited again. You were as excited as you had ever been in your life. Hyunjin bit his lip nervously and turned his body towards the back of his car to take the canvas of a painting about 50 cm. A painting of him.

“You have an original Hwang piece” he laughed adorably, “Just kidding. I did it thinking of you, since you just moved in, maybe it will look nice somewhere in your apartment.”

You held it and admired it, the small details of that red flowers in a vase enamored your sight like never before.

“Hyunjin… Thank you, it’s beautiful. I’m speechless.”

You looked into his eyes amidst the poor light of the night. You watched his face, with an immense urge to kiss him.

You would definitely put it in your apartment, every work of Hyunjin’s is so expensive or was just on display that you found it hard to believe he would give you something like this. Hyunjin could notice the sincerity of your gaze and watched tenderly as you saw his painting, even appreciating his signature in the lower right corner.

“If you need help with decorating your place, you know you can let me know.”

You nodded, biting your lip trying to hide your big smile but your eyes sparkled of their own accord and you laughed softly as you remembered how unseriously your apartment was decorated, complete with framed posters of your favorite horror movies. Then slowly the gentle rain began to fall as it became more and more intense. Hyunjin drove you to your apartment building, ruining Minho’s plans and making him uncontrollably furious, his mind thought of eliminating Hyunjin right away… but he didn’t want to hurry, he wanted to have a real reason and not act out of cruelty and perversity; although he wouldn’t tolerate waiting until something really happened between the two of you. His stomach spun at the mere thought that while he was sitting in his car, squeezing his hand against the steering wheel, something between the two of you may already be happening in Hyunjin’s car under the rain.

Minho felt a slight relief as the little meeting of you lasted 7 minutes and Hyunjin started his luxurious vehicle. Minho hurried to get to your apartment building earlier, just in case his plan could somehow be arranged: if you didn’t show up, you had left with Hyunjin, or in the worst case scenario, you showed up with Hyunjin entering your apartment. You were thinking just the second option.

Hyunjin parked the car and you both remained in a tense silence filled with so many questions and heavy breaths as you watched the rain fall. You had to wait for the rain to stop for a while. You couldn’t turn off your thoughts, so you told him:

“Do you want to come in? You can help me put up your painting, you can see the place and judge for yourself, give me ideas for decoration…”

Hyunjin looked at you, roaming your body with his eyes from your thighs to your face, he licked his lips, about to say yes, with so many ideas in his head of what can happen with a young girl as pretty as you in the comfort of your apartment, by yourselves… but he had a wife waiting for him at home.

“No… no….” he whispered almost to himself, stopping himself from doing something he was going to regret, “It’s night now, I must go home and finish some projects” he excused himself.

You pressed your lips together and he noticed the disappointment in the sweet look he adored so much about you.

“But I’ll help you another day, earlier, how about Sunday?” he said without thinking just to take that expression off your face and please you.

You smiled happily nodding. Hyunjin thought that since it was daytime maybe his mind was clearer and wouldn’t be clouded with so many overwhelming thoughts that involved messing around with you. Maybe the clarity of the day would make him more aware of what the consequences might be.

You got out of his car with a smile when the rain stopped and went back to thank him, you were excited and feeling on cloud nine. Even if nothing happens, you want to keep him close.

Minho felt his chest squeezing waiting for you to appear in the corridor of your apartment, however and with whomever, but waiting to see you, while he was hiding; his pain vanished as soon as he saw you and quickly he also walked carefree, acting completely as if he didn’t know you and went to the apartment next to yours a few far and considerate meters away. You pressed the code to your apartment without realizing that there was someone else wanting to enter the apartment to your left… but the sound of clicking keys coming from that side caught your attention, as you thought the apartment was unoccupied and you only had one neighbor to your right, Han Jisung. You turned your head with curiosity and serendipity, finding something that froze your blood for no apparent reason, but then the impact became good news. There he was, you would recognize that man anywhere, his soft, shiny, straight black hair, his perfectly sculpted side profile. The boy from the afternoon who visited the bookstore. Minho. He was your new neighbor apparently.

Minho knew exactly that you were seeing him, his peripheral vision and eyesight of a ruthless, trained, stealthy killer knew it. He feigned innocence as if he sensed a look on him and turned to see you, squinting his eyes and tilting his head as if processing whether that was really you.

A rush of happiness came over you after you looked at each other in confusion for a moment.

“Minho?”

“Hey… Y/n, right?”

You nodded, leaving your door slightly open and walking down the hallway approaching him, which he did as well, dropping his shopping bags on the floor near his door.

“You moved here?”

“Yes” he smiled, “You live there?” he pointed to your apartment, “Wow, what a coincidence, we’ll be neighbors now.”

“Yeah… I hadn’t noticed anyone moving in.”

That was because Minho literally did everything today.

“Ah, maybe because you were busy during the day and evening.”

After a few glances, and tender and awkward goodbyes, you entered your apartment, unwilling to continue your night’s work, so you took a shower and relaxed until you fell asleep, this time wishful thinking about Minho.

Minho hadn’t quite moved in next door to you, it was a fake apartment just to get close to you and have an excuse, his whole life was in the apartment across the street from yours. He kept watching you during the night from his real apartment and he in his true element, started to take out all his professional equipment worthy of the best private detective: professional cameras with excellent lenses and zoom capabilities. He couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty for him enjoying the comfort of your living room, with the window uncovered; then you went out for a moment through the small balcony to enjoy the fresh and humid weather and aroma that the rain had left in the city, making Minho get some almost artistic shots, while he thought that kissing you would be so far his greatest achievement in life.

The next morning was also planned for Minho, waiting by the emergency stairs for you to arrive as it was time for your 8 a.m. morning jog, at least on the days you didn’t work. When you heard footsteps he pretended to come downstairs also wearing sporty clothes until you met casually once again. You greeted him happily and walked down the stairs beside him, as you liked to warm up your body that way without using the elevator.

“I hadn’t seen you coming downstairs also to go jogging” you told him.

“Really? I always go out at this time, while I’m still doing my work online, between 8:30 and 9:00.”

“Ah, you’re right, since I dont work today I overslept a little and go for a run later” you laughed, “I usually do it earlier.”

And he knew all those little details about you.

“And you already had breakfast?” he observed you briefly and shyly.

You denied, humming a soft no.

“You don’t like having breakfast?”

“It’s not that, it’s just that I skipped it today and wanted to go straight for a little run.”

He smiled, “Then let’s have breakfast later. How about at my place?”

You both jogged through the park and stopped to talk as you walked; Minho felt so free being with you, almost forgetting the issue of wanting to clarify what was between you and Hyunjin. And you felt good together with Minho, you were starting to like him that you came to think that even if your insecurity didn’t allow you to go further, at least you could maintain a friendship, like with your other neighbor Jisung, whom you only thought he was cute and you used to have a tender friendly relationship.

Later when you returned to the building, you shyly told him that you would like to take a shower first and then go to his apartment. You wanted to look nice for Minho, and not sit next to him at a meal agitated and slightly sweaty. He did the same, showered and dressed up for you to start preparing breakfast. You knocked on his door where you were surprised by an even more handsome Minho if that was even possible, fresh from showering, dressed and changed, smelling good and in addition, cooking by himself.

“Wow, you just moved in and you already have everything arranged? That’s nice” you commented.

“Ah yes, I hired an interior designer and her team to get it done quickly.”

You wanted to know what he was doing for a living, the apartment and getting it in order in such a short time was a crazy idea, but you restrained yourself from asking him as you knew he would return the question and you had no idea how to evade it not even 24 hours after meeting him. Minho understood that it might make you uncomfortable, so he wouldn’t bother asking that question until he saw trust, and confidence in your eyes, when he felt you were sincere and would be willing to tell him.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, so far you had what you considered important, Lee Minho, 29 years old and single, coming from the city, the rest was a mystery. When you were done and it was time to say goodbye you invited him to your apartment later to hang out watching movies, which he accepted with a mischievous and playful smile as he felt you were feeding his obsession and enticing him to continue.

You had never invited a boy to your apartment, because there was no boy to invite, let alone your own fixed place where you lived alone, but everything changed when you met Minho. You dressed up for him like you had never done before, with neat makeup and comfortable but cute clothes, accessories, your hair, everything, meeting him had awakened in you an unknown motivation.

There was something about him that captivated you and caught you too much, besides his cute looks and mysterious and inexplicable presence and personality. You tried to look him up on social media but everything was private and there was so little information, awakening your curiosity even more… why someone like him would be single.

Minho had stopped taking his medication two days ago and felt that only you were his new stability, meeting you and learning more about you distracted him from whatever he was dealing with, or so he thought.

He knocked on your door, after mentally preparing himself, going back to take a shower and getting ready for you… he was finally about to officially enter your life and your home. Things might be moving fast but it still felt good. It was a delightful pace to get to know each other. Minho was not the second choice because Hyunjin was never an option for you. After all, you recognized that he was married…. Minho was like your first crush after so long, one where it could truly happen and you had a vision… or at least just now. You were letting Hyunjin go and wanting to focus on Minho. Yet you were so genuinely nervous that as soon as you heard him knocking on your door you instantly regretted it, thinking the idea was silly.

Minho finally entered your apartment, analyzing and admiring every part of your space, it was better than he had imagined. You spent the last few days decorating the place and arranging every piece of furniture, with the help of your kind neighbor Jisung on occasion. For Minho it was all going well, horror movie posters all around your apartment, Halloween, Scream, Psycho, The Shinning, Child’s Play, Saw, The Grudge… he smiled, thinking you were a little nerd trapped in a hot girl’s body and in the shape of temptation. Nothing about your slightly creepy posters disturbed him until he saw a painting he recognized in seconds as a Hwang Hyunjin piece, Minho’s face changed in milliseconds, but you didn’t notice because you were walking in front of him, your back to him.

You were with your cheeks slightly red and turned to see him, you led him to the kitchen, just by the counter to prepare the snacks, but you were as anxious to even eat something. It was… like a first date.

“So… you like scary movies movies?”

You widened your eyes slightly, trying to contain your smile. It was obvious.

“Not really, I’m more into romance” you replied sarcastically.

Minho chuckled softly, seeking to look you in the eyes and in a serious tone said:

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You couldn’t help but smile, wondering if he had done it intentionally, it still gave you a bit of a shiver.

“Okay, Mr. Ghostface” you replied, Minho laughed realizing the use of the popular phrase, “Actually… it’s Halloween, it reminds me of happy times. But I love so many, I can’t pick a favorite.”

“Your happy times involve a killer who murders on October 31st?” he joked.

“Ah, so you do know Halloween.”

Minho was more into emotional movies, but he read all the reviews just so he could match you. A mischievous half-smile formed on his face, you were both getting more and more comfortable.

“So I guess we’ll watch a scary movie then.”

“You guess right” you sounded somewhat seductive, “It’s that time of year… October.”

You moved closer to him to tease him without losing eye contact, creating tension but only to slide your hand on the counter and playfully grab one of the snacks. For a second… Minho thought you were going to make a big step between you, but you were just playing around a bit.

By their second movie you had already entered into absolute trust and were throwing comments on the air about the plot or movie facts, Minho found it absolutely adorable that you knew so much about whatever it was you were watching, plus the distance between your bodies was non-existent. Minho had to confess that despite being able to murder mercilessly to do his job, horror movies were never his thing, but he did it just to be with you. You watched The Ring, Halloween, Scream and A Nightmare on Elm Street, you’d never been so intimate with a man in that way, being yourself after all. Minho was tired of seeing death, fear and fantasy, it was something he lived in real life before he met you, so now he wanted to see you.

“Do you think you can sleep alone?” you joked.

“Sure. I think you were a little soft on me and didn’t show me the real scary movies.”

You smiled. “You’re right. I hate extreme gore, I’m more about living in nostalgia, the feeling of suspense and a little jump scare. I mean, Chucky to some extent gives a laugh but the plot had all the people in the 80’s gripped.”

“You’re so interesting…” he spoke absorbedly, letting himself go and softening his gaze.

You were both still sitting on the couch in your living room and his sudden look at you made you shy and nervous… it had been a while since anyone had looked at you like that, even Hyunjin never did because he held back so much himself but Minho had nothing to hide, other than his obvious obsession, his real job and he believed he had to hide his mental medical conditions, but he was a free man to be able to date you.

“I think I’ve had you here long enough, sorry, I didn’t even ask if you could stand to watch more than two movies” you spoke nonsensically, flustered by the closeness of his face and his soft but piercing gaze.

“I can stand anything with you. I liked it—I like being with you, a lot. I like you.”

“Minho…”

It felt good for the moment: the confession, the tension. Minho couldn’t resist and slowly leaned towards you, you could see it coming and your heart raced, letting his left-hand cup your cheek and his handsome face come close to yours. You both closed your eyes and enjoyed the caress of each other’s mouths. A tentative brush at first, his warm and soft breathing play and the delicate touch of his nose with yours to kiss in the sweetest and gentlest kiss, a kiss that touched absolutely every particle of you that even made you almost unleash tears… you had never been treated this sweet before… maybe you didn’t deserve it.

It felt like a real fairy tale, your hands gently clutching at his sweater, your stomach uneasy at the sensation, your face warm and your emotions on edge. You enjoyed every second of his lips moving against yours, but deep down you were both scared that this would trigger an inevitable series of events and that would cause you to have to reveal your truths that you were struggling to hide. You could lose each other. You questioned whether you should tell Minho what you did, and he wondered if he should stop his unhealthy tendencies.

The sweet kiss gradually became more passionate and playful. You didn’t complain, you liked it, his tongue was naughty and slick, and your tense body relaxed, letting it lay back gently, causing Minho to fall slightly on top of you. His left hand began to caress your thigh and he settled his body suddenly, lowering his kisses to your neck, pressing just your center with his bulge which you weren’t sure if it was stiff at all but you felt it grind against you subtly, teasing you to perfection.

You were becoming aroused and Minho was reveling in your scent, in his lips brushing your skin, his closeness, your breathing close to him, he was reveling uncontrollably, again feeling the dopamine and serotonin being produced in him.

You never thought that someone could make you feel like that and that you could like him to that extent, in a tender way and desire him with all your strength. You needed Minho and your soft moan when he pressed your thigh close to your needy center revealed it completely. Minho smiled playfully once more and whispered teasingly to you:

“We’re breaking one of the rules for surviving in a scary movie… no sex… or how come that guy in Scream used to say that?”

You smiled, shuddering feeling how Minho was teasing you. Your concern wasn’t that he had just confirmed you were about to have sex, but that you took the importance to the little game:

“Are we in a scary movie?”

Minho kept pressing his crotch to your center and brushing his lips on your neck until he pulled away from you a little leaving you confused. You saw his smile.

He just wanted to tease you a little.

“I think it’s time for me to go… but we have to meet again soon.”

The next day you made up an excuse for Hyunjin not to visit your house, from now on you wanted Minho, that kiss had changed everything.

But your situation was something you couldn’t hide, you spent more and more time with him, you got to know each other more, you went places together, he took you out on the town, and he came to pick you up after you finished your work at the bookstore and you both talked for hours, it was so cute and it was something hard to hide at the same time, what you actually did alone when you said goodbye to him during the night. Besides the fact that you didn’t want him to find out about somewhere else, he seemed sincere, you thought he genuinely didn’t know how you made money.

And the more time you spent together, the more Minho’s paranoia grew. He wanted to quit, he tried, to be normal and not have to study and watch your every move all the time, but he couldn’t do it. Now he had gradually developed insomnia and on lonely nights he couldn’t help but break into your house, circumvent the security system and watch you sleep comfortably; the quietness in which your chest moved as you breathed, your body relaxed, your eyes closed, even though Minho stood there expressionless, watching you caused him so much tranquility and sensations. He knew he should stop… but he couldn’t, he kept watching Hyunjin closely, Minho joined Hyunjin’s wife’s book club, to flirt with her and slightly use psychological manipulation where she would think of infidelity and that would make her go back to her husband’s arms, Minho wanted to take Hyunjin away from you in a healthy way…. because if he finds out that he somehow touched you or has been looking for a way to do so… his next move would not simply be manipulation games, his next plan was to truly use his skills and what he was made of, taking him away from you forever, Minho still took a deep breath and calmed down, letting Hyunjin be a part of your life, but only as your boss. Minho was to be the only man in your life, the only one you love.

But his mind was all over the place, handling so many things at once and thinking about you all the time. Minho thought he only calmed down when he was with you, because when he was alone the constant fear returned, the paranoia of whether his plan and deeds had been clean enough to continue, the constant fear that someone was watching him, that someone might know what he was up to, he felt it deep in his bones and was suspicious of everyone… until he got to see you and the noisy, scary feeling went away.

And all he longed to do was sleep next to you, but somehow you always ended up pushing him away, creating more fear in him. You also awakened in him a fierce sexual desire, he would touch himself watching your content every night, he would steal your underwear or a lingerie set he saw you wearing in one of your videos and end up getting completely obsessed, he would cum fantasizing on you, he would use the garment to stroke his cock… Minho was crazy about you, but none of that would compare to the day he finally got to be with you.

He would leave little clues that he was there, slightly moving certain things in your home out of position… it was fun for him to sneak around and live in the dark, it was a meticulous game that kept his mind busy.

You began to notice these small changes, finding it strange, at first you thought the clothes were getting lost in the laundry but there was no point in that since you remembered to put them away…

But you decided that enough had happened, that before Minho came more into your life and it hurt you more intensely to have him leave, you decided it was better to confess to him what you were doing, so you spoke to him that cold night at your apartment.

“So, we’ll watch Dead Silence tonight, right?” he said, sitting down on the chairs at your kitchen island.

Minho was happy, but judging by your serious expression he didn’t know what to think now.

“I have to tell you something because I want you to know it from me,” you said.

He knew exactly what you meant.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, trying to sound sympathetic, hiding his excitement.

“I’ll tell you something and you have every right to leave if you want to, because it might not be easy…” you kept looking at him seriously and kept your distance, “I have an OnlyFans account, I make content by myself, don’t worry, I’m not seeing anyone else. If you have any questions… I’ll answer them, if you think you should distance yourself, I’ll understand.”

You were nervous and Minho enjoyed every second of your expression and your tense body, it was a guilty pleasure, plus you agitatedly confessed not dating anyone else. You saw pure confusion on Minho’s pretty face, his frown was furrowed and his lips were in an ‘o’ shape ready to ask as he softly shook his head. Of course, it was all part of his act.

“What is OnlyFans? Why are you so nervous, honey, is it something bad? Why would I want to distance myself from you?”

Your heart pounded, you were ready for any answer… but of all things you never thought he would sweet talk you and not know what it was.

“You seriously don’t know what OnlyFans is?”

“I barely know what Instagram is, honey” he laughed.

You bit your lip nervously, you wanted to be just as relaxed as he was, waiting for the news, “It’s… a page where you pay to see adult content, people create content and…. I’m part of that. It’s how I make money, Minho.”

Minho softened his face, nodding as he took it all in and crooned a light “Ohh…” Then he watched your sparkling eyes and silence formed. You didn’t want to walk away from him, but if it happened later it was going to hurt more.

He stood up from his chair and walked towards you, placing his hands on your upper arms.

“I don’t have any questions. I understand,” he spoke and you looked into his eyes, “That’s no reason to walk away.”

You looked at him incredulously and let him lightly squeeze your arm. Now it was you who was speechless.

“I like you, Y/n, I don’t have to judge you for that.”

It was clear that in his time he had judged you… but that was how he had known you and he didn’t feel it was fair to criticize you.

“Are you sure?” he nodded, loving the sight of your big pleading eyes and your plump lips that Minho resisted kissing, he nodded, “Because I like you too and I wanted you to know that….”

Minho’s heart wanted to jump out of his chest after hearing that.

“Now I know and I'm okay with that…you’re already calmer?”

You nodded, but it was still hard to digest that someone like him still liked someone like you.

That night you watched the movie but fell asleep in Minho’s arms after half of it, but it only lasted a few short minutes until you woke up. He was holding you, finally living his dream, with your face and body against his chest, his pecs were comfortable but you felt embarrassed when you woke up and realized. You released your body from his grip and smiled shyly, ready to say goodbye to him… but Minho was lost in his own thoughts.

“I have some questions now…” he said, licking his lips.

You blinked, looking at him as you tried to clear your tiredness.

“Which ones?”

“What do you usually do… what’s that content?”

Minho looked you straight in the eye, intimidating you. He knew but he wanted to hear it from you. You felt like you were in a nightmare.

“Well… sex videos, nude or provocative pictures, that’s what I do.”

“Where?”

You swallowed nervously, “My room.”

“The only thing I don’t agree with is that strangers have seen your room and naked body before me” he blurted out, serious.

You looked at him. You didn’t expect that… but his serious expression and dark eyes pleased you. Minho couldn't help fantasizing about you with your body on top of his. At first, it was tender, but then something awoke in him. You smiled. You desired and wanted Minho like you had never wanted someone before. If he wanted it now, you were more than willing, and you were sure you would enjoy it.

“Well… you have something better,” you said, moving closer to him, cutting an absolute distance. “You can touch me all you want, the rest… they can only wish for it.”

And to think that Minho was exactly that, just like the rest, that he could only wish to have you, but his obsessive plan and behavior were paying off as you finally positioned yourself on his lap, seductively, with your knees on the side of his thighs, you played with his sweater and thought about how much you loved his big, worked arms, but it was rare that you saw him like that, as all the time he was so well covered, wearing a nice sweater, making him look adorably hot.

Those were the few times you saw his body…like when you were out and he was taking off his jacket and revealing his arms.

You fantasized about Minho’s body, his thighs were strong and thick, and his masculine build felt so good under your body, he alone made you feel uncontrollably aroused in seconds. Despite being a sex worker, you felt lonely, you only did it for money but everything was absolutely yourself using your body, and now… you couldn’t wait for Minho to use it.

You leaned towards him to take his lips, Minho was surprised by the speed of the situation he hesitated as he gently pulled his neck back but instantly kissed you back with pleasure. His hands roamed your body and you both delighted in the taste and feel of each other’s lips while the movie was still playing, the sound accompanied you and the light from it reflected brightly on you, you lasted like this for a while, kissing until you heated your soul and spirit, dropping your center into his bulge and rubbing you gently, almost causing a moan to escape your lips as you felt how big and hard he was. When you were both breathless and tentatively separated still giving each other little kisses, you suggested:

“Do you want to know my room? There’s nothing special about it, but since you want to know…”

You started to say playfully but were interrupted by Minho’s huge smile plastered on his face and him getting up from the couch with you in his arms.

Minho walked up to your room without you giving him any instructions as to where it was, and for a second, you questioned if you had told him before. His lips on you interrupted all thoughts. He admired the place and breathed in deeply the sweet essence of it—white walls, more posters—it was the place from which he had fallen for you since that night. You turned on the dim lamp light.

You didn’t say a word and let Minho act amidst the sharp breaths and piercing, lascivious glances. He sat you on the bed and leaned his body to kiss you while his hands caressed your thighs. You were so aroused, the caresses of his soft hands and his dominant, masculine presence on top of you weakened you in desire, his movements were smooth and intense that you could feel the slight desperation in him, squeezing your thighs as he pressed his lips tightly on you, as if he wanted to devour you, as if this was all something he had been waiting so long to do and was enjoying every detail of the process.

Minho once again ever since he met you, he felt like a normal man, capable of having his sexual desires, capable of finally being able to touch the woman he was so eagerly longing for. He lowered his lips to your neck and it took him great willpower not to bite your skin, he wanted to kiss you, caress you and make you feel good but at the same time he felt he had to be on your skin, he wanted to leave you the most satisfied you have ever been in your entire life, for sex to be more than sex, he wanted to truly unite with you, in his mind, his intense thoughts worked best.

Your clothes suddenly made him desperate, believing they were interrupting something very intimate between you and with a big smile and in a hurried act, Minho took off your blouse, causing his erect hard cock to throb painfully in his pants, he was so ecstatic just to have you all to himself and the mere sight of you, no silly cameras or recording in between, he was so excited to feel like the luckiest one to be the one enjoying the process of undressing you and being able to pleasure you.

You bit your lip as you hadn't quite appreciated how Minho was incredibly hot how he looked right now, it was true that the constant thought of having sex with him kept recurring in your mind but it was something you let go of and now you were hugely immersed in him, every inch of your body throbbing and messed up with just the beginning of caresses and foreplay, you had never wanted someone as much as you felt now, as if you were back to being an innocent and hormonal sweet girl again. You were a little embarrassed, if you had known you were going to have sex with Minho tonight, you would have worn nicer underwear, you were wearing your black bra and your comfy Hello Kitty little pink cotton panties with the detail of a little bow on the top seam in front.

Your new lover appreciated you for a moment to return his lips to your bare skin, pressing kisses down your chest, moving lower and lower and leaving you breathless, Minho nimbly unfastened your bra and became engrossed with the mere sight of your juicy breasts exposed, the delicacy of your tender nipple decorating your organ. He bit his lip and did not hesitate to feel and squeeze your breasts with his hands, moaning softly as he finally felt the softness of them, the firmness of your erect nipples pressed against the palm of his hand and dark fantasies were taking over Minho, remembering all those nights when he masturbated and cummed to exhaustion drooling over your breasts, for your femininity and naked body, he could pull out his cock and masturbate so he could cum on your breasts and pretty face as he so much desired, all his pearly white liquid erotically adorning your beautiful body, but he believed it would be pointless to self-pleasure himself just now when he had you when he was finally touching you and felt the most intense pleasure in pleasuring you too.

You on your part were feeling your panties so wet, you were so excited because it was the first time in a long time that you were with someone, that you were satisfying yourself sexually with someone else, for despite a generalized thought that sex workers must have such an active and turned on sex life, yours was not like that, it was so lonely, you were relatively popular among the community and other creators invited you to their kind of content. Still, you refused all the time, nothing was exciting with fucking strangers, and Minho for you was that cute guy who agreed to watch horror movies with you and with whom you longed for a relationship.

You didn’t hold out long enough and you let yourself be carried away by the pleasure Minho was giving you and slowly laid your body down, you had so many thoughts like the fact that Lee Minho truly was a man, because from the last times you had been intimate after confessing to the guys that you did adult content they went crazy and thought they could release any kind of fantasy with you, they used you for their own pleasure without even thinking about yours, they played dominant and even though you adored being ordered around in sex… they did it in such a different way, they ended up ordering you around for their own pleasure… but Minho… god, you felt so different with Minho, it was obvious he was also looking to satisfy himself with you but you could tell he was prioritizing you; most men would just drop their pants, rudely looking for easy access to you and have their 8 minute fun, or 5 if they ordered you to blow them off and their pathetic horny bodies wouldn’t allow them more time.

“Fuck, baby, they’re perfect—you’re perfect” he gasped, feeling your breasts, playing and pinching your nipple.

You heard—read that all the time, but coming from Minho you felt it was true. Minho was there, looking to take advantage of touching every inch of any sensitive spot of yours, you couldn’t even notice his intentions for getting naked, but you also longed to see his naked body. He delighted in every moan that came out of you after he tried a little hard on your nipples.

Before you could make a playful move with Minho’s sweater so he could take it off, Minho’s mouth on your breast unhinged you in seconds. He ran his tongue delicately in circular motions over your nipple moistening it and making it more sensitive, sucking and biting your skin, completely reveling himself in one and doing the same process on your other breast as his hand went back to gently mistreating your other sensitive organ. You took the opportunity to touch his hair, it was so soft and fell gracefully over his handsome face, he looked up, making a little eye contact as his naughty mouth played with you.

His dirty and erotic kisses and caresses began to move down your body, caressing your abdomen, Minho adored the softness of it, finely running his fingertips across your skin and brushing the tip of his straight nose, so delicately as if it was the most fragile thing about you, causing you to uncontrollably pleasure and gasp in satisfaction as you felt and thought that he was getting closer and closer to your sensitive center.

You stirred your legs to feel your wetness rubbing up to your folds, getting more and more excited at the thought of being touched there. Minho finally took off your skirt, smiling at the sight of your girlish panties, he must have known, you were still younger than him after all, the idea went to his head, a cute and cuddly young girl just for him.

“Hello Kitty” he said amused, running the back of his finger along your slick, making you sigh, “You’re so sweet, honey, you’re the sweetest.”

You looked at him with mock displeasure but your face changed in seconds as you felt his fingers press against your clit. Minho chuckled softly.

“Look at the little kitty, is a mess, you left her so wet, baby…” he said again playfully, running two of his fingers on your slick.

His pun was fun. It was true, you were so wet, so aroused almost sweating just in sexual desire, the thin fabric of your panties was soaked and Minho enjoyed seeing you so needy for him. He admired your body and position, lying back with your heavy breathing, eyes shining, breasts exposed, foreplayed nipples and your sweet Hello Kitty panties attached to your folds by your wetness. Minho became even more aroused.

“You are so beautiful, my dear and I’m not just saying that because you are like this, naked in front of me” he gently placed his body over you and teased you with his hand on your clit and his hot breath between your neck and ear, he whispered, “You are truly beautiful. I adore you.”

Your cheeks grew flushed hot. The low tone in his voice, his words and him caressing you were the whole damn package of how to have you attracted in seconds.

He brought his face close to yours again, almost looking for a kiss but he was just teasing you. You were speechless, his big dark eyes were so enigmatic. It was your best sexual encounter so far, there was so much chemistry and connection between you.

“Minho” you finally said, biting your lip nervously, “I want to see you naked too.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled amused.

“Whatever the princess asks.”

He removed himself on top of you, standing on the floor with his knees touching the edge of your bed. You sat on the bed quickly to get a closer view of him undressing. You bit your lip and Minho proceeded to undress, removing his sweater, tousling his pretty black hair a bit and relieving his warm masculine scent. You admired his bare chest, his broad shoulders, worked and smoothly muscled arms where you could see his veins running down to his attractive hands, his shapely pecs and his smooth but firm worked-up abdomen. You fell more and more for Minho.

His hands reached the button of his jeans and you couldn’t resist not touching him, you finely ran your fingers over a scar he had near his navel and looked him in the eyes, almost wanting to ask just with your eyes —a scar he got because he was stabbed— and you put your hands over his and he let you do it right away. You caressed a bit of his big bulge on top of the denim and now you fixed your eyes there, you pulled it down desperately to see also the bulge in his underwear to then subtly lick your lips and finally pull his boxers down to see his erection, you almost sighed thinking why he looked so good, absolutely everything about Minho looked good, his smooth pubic skin all the way to the incredible sight of his big veiny cock which you held and played with, your thumb caressing his glans glistening in his precum, feeling his erect throbbing organ engorged in sex, you thought he had the best cock you had ever seen, even better than the ones that make money on that, Minho was like a hidden diamond, you still didn’t believe he could be single looking like that.

“Fuck, baby” he moaned enjoying your hands on his cock, but then gently removed them, “It feels so good but it's your turn, sweetheart, get comfortable I want to touch you and make you feel, good, okay?”

You nodded submissively and slid backwards until you reached your pillows. Minho finished removing his clothes completely and moved lustfully closer to you, pulled off your panties and approached your wet center with a smug smile. He dropped his body to the bed, his abdomen and hard cock pressed against it to position himself between your legs, he entwined your thighs in his strong arms and his lips went straight to your pubic skin to deposit soft kisses until he looked into your eyes and took the opportunity to view your body from that angle, with his hot, heaving breath hitting your core, then he looked at your glistening pussy just before he dipped his pretty face into you. He caught your clit making you moan and shiver, you needed it already and it was feeling so good.

Minho caressed your body while his mouth did all the dirty delicious work all over your pussy, his hands ran over your thighs, your abdomen, gently squeezed your breasts and so on as he sucked your clit and ran his tongue over your labia and got lost in your taste and how satisfying it was having you moaning. You stroked his hair again and his tongue entwined between your pussy lips and when he felt you desperate and highly aroused almost at your peak, he brought his hands to your pussy, sliding them all over your slick and then penetrating your lubricated entrance in a rhythm that only teased you.

You were so close to your first orgasm, the rhythm of his fingers in you was slow and enticing that it was making you tremble, and the tension in your stomach ached for release. He played with your clit once more as his fingers filled you and you felt a slight vibration in your sensitive spot, Minho moaned with a vein in his neck visible that his body did not resist and he cum just like that, just by touching you.

He pulled slightly away from you and looked admiringly at your aroused body.

“You like that, huh, baby?” his voice made you shudder, “Or do you like it rough?”

His fingers began to move roughly in you while with his other hand he played with the rest of your pussy slowly, you whimpered arching your back, you were being so stimulated, the difference of rhythms in you hastened your orgasm.

“Yes, yes, Minho, ple—”

You couldn’t even speak, your entrance felt full and used and your whole pussy was treated to perfection that your body reached its maximum release, collapsing in your orgasm.

You tried to catch your breath, but Minho didn’t end there, he got hard again and savored every part of your orgasm by shamelessly swiping his warm, wide tongue, making you enjoy and aroused again this time slightly calmer, humming soft “Mmm”, but the pace of things escalated as you felt his tongue to thrust through your insides and you felt stimulated again.

“Fuck, Minho, let-let me touch you now” you moaned.

You wanted to touch and please him as much as he did you and you obviously wanted to feel him too.

“Okay” he replied softly with an adorable smile that made him show his teeth.

You noticed semen on your sheets and on Minho’s cock and bit your lip. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth to gently position himself on top of you and rub his hard erection on your labia. You blubbered, looking down at the action and returning your gaze to his piercing eyes. You whimpered. And you were happy to be able to make as much noise as you wanted if he dared to fuck you with his well-endowed cock, you had no neighbors, the one in 221 was on a business trip and you were having a very hot encounter with your other neighbor.

“You know what… from now on I can help you with whatever you need, from the smallest thing, you can tell me” Minho spoke softly as he stroked your hair, “Even if it’s that you need help in your videos or when you don’t want to feel alone.”

You were both satisfied, cuddling after having the hottest and dirtiest sex, while tenderly wearing his sweater.

You caught his comment as tender as you watched his bare chest rise and fall from his quiet breathing as you had your cheek resting on it, but the tender moment faded as you realized the intent of his comment… did he mean he wanted to be a part of your videos? Your sex videos.

That’s exactly what he meant. You didn’t think twice.

Filming time with Minho was one of your favorite moments. Another one of your favorite moments was when you spent some nice quality time with him and he would hold you and kiss you tenderly while looking at you with purity…. but your little alone time recording was something that nothing could compare to, it was your little moment of fun, your little twisted and kinky game that started with nervous laughter and developed little by little to show a taste of Lee Minho’s nature, he being the mastermind behind the sex tapes that included him developing an almost in him dominant character, the one he liked to treat you with during sex.

Your idea was not to show Minho’s face, you both agreed on that and first you would start with something so common and typical to know people’s response to the appearance of a new character to your videos, so your first sexual activity recorded and uploaded was a video of a popular and classic blowjob you had done to Minho.

You joked, saying that people loved oral sex videos with the man receiving and, by people you meant mostly horny men who would pay money to see you, so it was a win-win, you would blow Minho for pleasure because you liked doing it, he would enjoy it and you would get money for it.

And your first kind of recorded encounter was in your room, Minho sitting on the edge of your bed and first you started to get aroused without cameras recording, for Minho it was not hard to get an erection, you were wearing a nice lingerie so revealing that it didn’t leave much to the imagination, all your mons pubis and nipples were transparent in the thin pastel pink lace fabric, you had done your makeup and hair beautifully so you just laid on top of him, who was only wearing his underwear, you started kissing passionately, touching each other’s body and you grinding his cock with your core, when both of you were already panting but especially Minho and when you felt his real firmness in him, it was time for the show.

You got off on top of him, Minho had to take off his underwear and leave them absolutely out of the shot, you had two angles to film, one directly that Minho will hold and another angle that you had set up to look sideways and show your kneeling body and Minho’s lower body.

You were nervous and excited, you had done it before but it had not been filmed, you fixed your hair, put lip gloss back on and took a last look at your makeup and returned your view to Minho completely naked with his big erect cock, nervously taking the cell phone, it was weird, but hot. You started recording from the side angle and approached him. You stood on your tiptoes to give him one last kiss before getting completely on your knees in front of his erection. Minho bit his lip and sighed in a half-hearted, excited sigh.

A video of you sucking his cock would live forever on the internet… and he couldn’t be happier about it. It was dirty and vicious, Minho adored it.

“I want you to make as much noise as you want, be yourself and enjoy it, don’t be completely silent like the boring man in porn videos looking like a zombie, please. Besides… some women love men moaning and yours sound so good though.”

Minho smiled adorably showing his front teeth and relaxing his body.

“Got it” he replied.

You nodded your head giving him the signal to start filming, he adjusted the cell phone holding it with his right hand and as soon as it recorded, he gave you a tender signal with his thumb of his left hand. You smiled looking into his eyes and finally took his cock between your hands to start jerking him off, playing with his cock and stroking his tip while looking innocently at the camera from time to time. Minho bit his lip hard, trying not to gasp in just the first few seconds of the video.

You looked up, but instead of seeing the camera, you saw Minho’s body and face, weakening you and making your pussy explode in tingles and twinges of excitement, he made you so crazy and needy. Minho looked so good like that, naked, watching you from above with his dominating presence, biting his lip, his veiny hands holding your pink cell phone and hyper-feminine decorated. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of him and that was something the camera managed to capture.

You began licking his cock, playing with his balls, tentatively inserting his tip into your mouth and licking it to savor every sensation of his soft, sensitive glans with his precum. Minho was doing his best to keep his hand steady but he gave in little by little and moaned as you began to thrust his length into your cavity, he grabbed your hair, his veiny manly hand drove crazy more than one who watched your video and Minho captured to perfection the messy shot of his thick length entering your mouth.

What followed were long, pleasurable minutes of the most angelic blowjob Minho ever had; it was your makeup smearing a bit, your tears coming out, your face begging for mercy and drooling as you enjoyed every moment, and a breathless Minho completely aroused, fucking your mouth and tentatively reaching down your throat to climax inside your cavity, but the video didn’t stop there. Minho rubbed your lips and pretty face with his glans gently coated in his semen and in a desperate act he began to masturbate, overstimulating himself again; you understood and helped him to bring him to his second orgasm, this time a cumshot straight to your cheek, you smiled happily.

With the video saved, Minho helped you wipe the cum off your face with a tender smile and giggles, then kissed passionately again, turned your body and fucked your wet, throbbing pussy hard as you held on to your bathroom sink, while he held on to your hips and played with your breasts with you enjoying being fucked in front of the mirror.

The video of you blowing Minho was a hit and as expected, people wanted more of the mysterious man with the nice cock, sexy hands and cute moans.

So you and Minho had some fun giving them exactly what they wanted.

He had the idea of dominating you in bed and having his voice make an appearance, recording your ass being pounded until it was red and sore, turning Minho on too much with your throbbing pain and whimpers. He would treat your entrance hard, penetrating it harshly and overstimulating you bringing you to orgasm after orgasm as his arm fell heavily on your back limiting your movement. Minho babbled little derogatory nicknames at you, whispering, “You like that, huh, little slut?”, treating you rough. You didn’t know where that idea came from, maybe a little fantasy he had, but it pleased you so much, you were a mess, tears in your eyes, your body agitated, pussy throbbing and soaking wet without stopping being used by Minho even for a second.

Then he got the idea to tape you having a 69 which aroused every one of your senses, your pussy was already stimulated but you couldn’t stop, it was like you were ovulating the whole damn time you were with him. You sat on his face and rode him, his mouth pleasuring you and his sharp nose pressing exquisitely into your core.

It was your little adventure play that just kept getting better and better.

Then it was time for your livestream, you had been missing it since you met Minho… but you didn’t want to do it alone this time and having sex with him live would be risky, so he ordered you to do everything just like you used to do it, only this time he would be behind the camera, giving you little instructions, watching you pleasuring yourself.

You looked at Minho amused, the idea that he could just stand there watching you was too much of a turn-on for you. You started to transmit, as usual, wearing tender and provocative lingerie that when you used to be so excited you ended up taking it off completely. You bit your lip, spreading your legs, and placed the vibrator on your clit, instantly moaning more excited with the idea that Minho was watching you sitting behind the led ring light.

His cock throbbed, and he analyzed every part of you, bringing back memories of when he did it that night from his window. Your panties were already a mess, you were overstimulating yourself. You pulled the fabric of your panties away from your folds and inserted two fingers inside you, glancing at Minho from time to time.

He bit his lip but kept a serious and penetrating gaze, studying every part of you.

“Take the other toy and ride it, ride it until you cum.”

Minho suddenly ordered you and his look and voice made you shudder. You took with some embarrassment the realistically shaped dildo and did exactly as he instructed, sliding it inside you still with your panties on and starting to ride it so that you could appreciate the dirty act of the toy filling your insides; you whimpered in pleasure, you were leaving a mess on your sheet and you looked with an expression of joy at Minho, missing him, wishing it was his the cock you were riding and a stupid toy.

Minho licked his lips at the sight… there was something about you, you were particularly more aroused and needy than the last time he saw you do the livestream.

“Cum, princess, do it faster, make yourself cum.”

His voice made your nipples erect and you kept sliding up and down on the stiff toy that filled your walls and whimpered as you looked back at Minho and fell into a roaring orgasm, for the first time you had forgotten the glamour of cumming, the orgasm had been so real and more so looking into Minho’s eyes, hearing his voice and fantasizing, usually you would try to be all pretty girl, moaning cute and cumming prettily, showing off your collection of your toys glistening in your fluids but now all you could think about was Minho and how every inch of you was madly aroused.

Your makeup was starting to get ruined, your hair was slightly tousled, and every emotion of yours was feeling so real that your live was being a hit but all you wanted was for Minho to finish it once and for all and fuck you.

“Now show everyone your beautiful pussy, sweetie” he ordered you and you did, pulling aside the fabric of your panties and showing your swollen and wet pussy folds, “Shit, you are the most beautiful doll, sweetie. Spread your folds apart, show them what’s mine.”

You blushed following his orders and watched as he lowered the cell phone further and gave it a little zoom to bring your pussy more into focus. Minho moved closer to you, his face not coming out in the shot and took your vibrator and dildo and continued your pleasure and light torture by stimulating you. He penetrated you quickly and roughly with the dildo while pressing the head of the vibrator into your clit making you frantic.

“It’s mine, honey?” he said dominantly, watching your body collapse in pleasure, nothing could take away his smug smile, for having you at his disposal and for being the one who was touching you while thousands of idiots were just fantasizing behind a screen.

“Y-yes, yes. Fuuck, Mi-, I need you. Please” you whimpered in desperation.

“Beg for more, tell me how much you want it.”

You swallowed saliva and took a big gasping breath on the verge of collapse. Still, all you could think about was him, the feel of his body on top of yours, pushing against your body, and the wet, hot, pleasurable sensation of his pumping, real sex inside you that missed every inch and vein of him.

“Please, please, please, I need you, fuck me…. Lee.”

You didn’t even know whether to call him Minho as it was risky and Lee was still a common first name for other people. He smiled, smug and satisfied, pulling the dildo out of you and turning off the vibrator, making you moan.

“The live is over.”

Minho ended the live quickly with no problem, took off his pants and boxers and then proceeded to yank your panties off in a tug to approach you and finally take you, gently inserting his big, erect cock into you and began frantically pounding your pussy in a hard, body smashing rhythm. He caressed your breasts with his hands and then brought his right hand up to your neck subtly cutting off your breath. You felt so pathetically aroused, you cum twice on his cock penetrating your insides and tickling all the way to your cervix and after your second intense orgasm, Minho finally came to his orgasm too, happily filling every drop of his cum inside you. Minho was a fan of your quivering, used pussy gently releasing his cum so he once again enjoyed the show that left you tired and full.

You were just his in so many ways.

After that you asked him if he could treat you the same without cameras around to which he was very happy with your request.

Minho had to return to his own little hell. His own job. He had a new mission to take care of so he would be out of town for days and he didn‘t want to leave you but he had to. Everything was going so well with him that you missed him, you wanted to invite him on a little trip together with the money earned and you fantasized again about filming the act, it was so dirty and risky, you loved the adrenaline and pleasure Minho made you feel.

When you asked Minho what his job was he answered somewhat coldly and curtly that he was a private detective and quickly changed the subject, you felt a shiver but you understood perfectly, that he didn’t want to talk about it.

While Minho left, your other neighbor Han Jisung had arrived from a long business trip and upon meeting you in the hallway invited you into his apartment which you accepted since you were supposed to be friends but it was more than obvious that Jisung wanted you a little more than just for that.

Jisung untied his tie, tossing it onto his couch.

“I’m exhausted, do you want something to drink?” he expressed.

You shook your head and once you were inside you questioned what you were doing there.

“Mmm I have to go” you said suddenly.

Jisung laughed.

“You just walked in, beautiful. Everything okay?”

You nodded, “I forgot I was kind of busy with something…”

He grimaced, “Too bad for me, I was hoping we could talk a little, the trip was long and tiring.”

You felt bad, you didn’t see Jisung with other eyes than friendship, you recognized that he was handsome and maybe the most wanted bachelor, young and billionaire… but you didn’t try anything because the idea of him dating someone like you was absurd and now you had Minho and he was everything you were looking for, someone you can have a relationship with and be so sexually open with each other, someone who would love you for who you were, you wanted to feel loved despite your little mistakes.

“It’s okay, I can stay for a while.”

He smiled.

“What’s up? What movie do you want to watch today? I’ll order some dinner, do you want anything?”

After a while you were both eating dinner, in absolute confidence, feeling comfortable with each other.

“Someone moved into 225,” you said.

“Mm… who?”

“Lee Minho, he’s cute, we’re dating.”

Jisung was about to joke with you but the name seemed familiar.

“What’s his name?”

“Lee Minho. He lives alone.”

“Lee Minho…?” Jisung visualized his face, but thought it was coincidence, he still asked, “A young man with black hair and big eyes? Do you have a picture of him?”

“Do you know him?”

His poor description sounded so much like Minho that you showed him a picture, surprising Jisung.

“Wow, that’s weird, he lives in the building across the street, not this one… Well, maybe he just moved in. He’s a tough and lonely guy, he’s kind of scary, he’s a fucking hitman or so my dad’s friends say.”

You blinked in puzzlement at the sudden information.

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know too much about him just that he lived across the street and his job is kind of heavy.”

That left you thinking too much and you took the opportunity to find out on your own, but you couldn’t do too much since you couldn’t get to the apartment and they flatly refused to give you information about him, so you returned somewhat confused back to your building, you knew exactly Minho’s entry code from the apartment next to yours since you pretended not to see him every time he did but you got to memorize it… entering was so wrong but you couldn’t help it and you did it, you also had that curiosity in you and you remembered even the smallest details, like Minho told you that he didn’t installed security cameras inside his apartment yet and that he would do it coming back from his business trip, so if he was telling the truth, nobody knew you were sneaking in there in the dark.

You entered his room, with the feeling of curiosity in your chest, you felt that Minho knew everything about you, but you knew little about him. You knew his name, his age, you half knew his job… you knew he was a good man, cute and attentive but why you still felt deep in you the question of who is Lee Minho.

His room was just as you remembered it, you weren't looking for anything specific but you had an unsettling feeling of wanting to find something but you were already beginning to feel that you were effectively trespassing on Minho’s property so you were about to leave, but the drawer in the cabinet to the side on his bed half open caught your attention, everything looked in order but that precise piece of furniture made the tidy room look as if Minho had been in a hurry and left that little detail, so you approached it and found inside what looked like a pink book, a specific shade of pastel pink which is your favorite color, you took it innocently thinking that maybe it could be a gift for you and you could see immediately that it was a photo album; you were disconcerted for a second, the feeling of uneasiness returned to you and impatiently opened the book, you could not see well so you illuminated it with the flashlight of your cell phone and as soon as you saw it you were perplexed and with the frightening sensation of an agonizing cold taking hold of your body.

Your eyes moved in terror and surprise… they were pictures of you sleeping… why? Why would Minho do such a thing? Why are they pictures of you from your room? What kind of psycho was he?

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt fear and disappointment as you immediately thought that Minho was not the kind of guy you thought he was and that he was obviously a weirdo. The angles of the pictures made you shiver, you weren’t such a heavy sleeper that you didn’t realize someone was watching you but just the thought that he used to come into your house at night… it was something you never thought would happen. You were paralyzed, thinking whether to take the album and leave, confront Minho, or leave it there… now you were even more curious about what else he might be hiding.

You slowly stepped back in fear and shock, you had no idea who Minho really was, your mind was filled with thoughts but suddenly you felt your back collide with a rigid body that you knew exactly whose body it was.

You turned your body and a mysterious gust of a cold breath of wind blew through your body. You met Minho with a serious look and expression, with a face so serious that you had never seen on him before. You got more scared, thinking how the hell he had gotten there if he didn’t even make the slightest noise, you were so scared, you wanted so many answers, in your little madness you thought he might even be a ghost.

But Lee Minho was so real, a human with tendencies different from the established, but he was still normal or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself… suddenly you felt petrified before his presence, anything could happen right there and now you felt helpless.

But of one thing Minho was sure, that his heart broke when he saw that peculiar look on your face when you saw him. And he who only expected you to look at him with love all the time. You looked at him with terror and panic, a petrifying look that only those movies you used to watch with him could reflect in the real world. Why? What was really happening?

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @lailac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne @velvetmoonlght @shadowhunterathene @compersian @binniesbabe @strayywayy @isabel-018 @paborachaslvt @tirena1

[trans-gothic]

Hey everyone, unfortunately I’m still in pretty dire financial straits right now. I’m so sorry that I’m still having to beg for money, and I also really wish that I wasn’t doing it all the time, but here we are. Back in April I quit my abusive retail job (where I was routinely subject to sexual harassment and transphobic bullying by both customers and coworkers) to start doing food delivery with Uber Eats. It was going okay at first but now I’m just not getting enough deliveries to make it, I’m at best breaking even on the gas that I use to do said deliveries, most days. I’ve already sold off all of my physical copy video games, and most of my manga, comics, and DVD collections. I’m really struggling right now and any little bit helps. Between food, therapy, car costs, phone bill, interview clothes (was still presenting as male last time I had a job interview so I don’t really have anything for it now seven years deep into hrt) etc I’m hoping to raise about $500 to get me through for a while. Once again I’m so sorry that I’m still here begging for help, but maybe consider making a donation this pride month to help out a trans woman with cptsd and clinical depression just trying to make it. It would be greatly appreciated.

C*shapp: $FJstardust

V*nmo: @Fiona-Stardust

Z*lle: fionajc1989@gmail.com

P*ypal: fionajc1989@gmail.com

[sansaorgana]

what if benny heard his girl’s friend telling her about how she deserves better. he then notices his gf distancing herself from him because she starts having doubts about their relationship, and he’s not about to let her go that easily

hello 💚 thank you for your request! it turned out to be quite long (nearly 4,5k words) 😌 Benny & Reader are kinda toxic here lol 🤣 but in the movie he was such a red flag sometimes and his relationship with Kathy wasn't that healthy either, so I felt like exploring that trope. it has a happy ending, though! 💒

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

Whenever you were out with your friends, Benny was a big part of your conversations. They were either single or they dated boring men and you couldn’t help but brag a little to them about taming a man like Benny Cross.

Of course, sometimes you were jealous of the stability your friends had. But with Benny it was never boring and you had never had so many wild stories to tell before meeting him. You wore one of his rings proudly and with as much pride you had the Vandals Chicago small patch on your jeans jacket.

And today was no different – you arrived at Molly's place a little bit late by the bus but Benny was supposed to pick you up later. You fixed your hair and your jacket before getting inside the apartment building after some older lady who was walking inside. She looked you up and down and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the patch or the leather pants but you didn’t care either way. You were only wearing trousers these days because sitting in the back of the bike in a skirt or a dress was far from comfortable.

You knocked upon Molly’s door and she opened with a smile but you couldn’t help but notice that the way she looked at you was similar to the old lady’s gaze. And when you walked to the living room and waved at your other friends, they suddenly went quiet, which only meant one thing – they had been talking about you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Barbara greeted you. “Has your boyfriend dropped you off?”

You furrowed your brows at her oddly mocking tone as other girls tried to hide a giggle.

“Hi, Barbs. No, he hasn’t,” you answered, pretending you hadn’t caught the rude undertone of her question. You sat on the armchair because you didn’t want to sit next to them on the couch.

Molly sat back there, right next to Ursula. On Barbara’s other side sat Susie.

“So, how’s life? What’s up?” You asked as usual, tapping your fingers on the wooden armrest of the armchair. 

You hadn’t seen them in two months and they were your friends since high school. You were naturally interested in hearing their stories.

“Well, I got engaged!” Ursula announced and showed you the ring. Your eyes widened and you gave her a smile.

“Wow, ‘sula, that’s crazy. Congratulations, babe,” you winked at her. “That ring must have cost a fortune!”

“It certainly has. But you know, Dickie’s in the finance,” she reminded you but there was something contemptuous in her voice.

“I remember,” you only nodded. “When’s the wedding?”

“In July, we think,” Ursula answered. “I’m currently dress hunting. I was in the store the other day with the girls and…” She started and then she stopped talking as the other hissed at her.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, what?” You raised an eyebrow. “You guys are seeing each other without me?” You swallowed thickly and waited for their answer.

It made sense, suddenly. Because you had used to meet every two weeks. But some time ago they had started to come with excuses that they were too busy to meet so often. Now the meetings were taking place once every two months. But… Perhaps it was this way only for you.

The girls looked at each other.

“Oh, please, (Y/N), it was only once,” Barbara quickly spoke up. “You were busy that day anyway. We knew about it so we didn’t even ask you.”

“How did you know I was busy?” You asked.

“We read in the paper that there had been a motorbike accident in the area. We assumed you were at the hospital,” Ursula explained and you nearly snorted at her stupid lie.

She was always the worst at coming up with lies on the go.

“This accident had nothing to do with Benny or anyone in our club for that matter,” you told her although you were sure there had been no accident even.

“Well, we thought…” Ursula started.

“Our club, huh?” Susie suddenly giggled. She was usually the quiet one but it made her pretty observant and she would always pick on the words.

You cracked a smile at that.

“Are you learnin’ how to drive a motorbike now? Is he gettin’ you one as well?” Molly teased.

“No,” you answered. “Anyway…” You tried to change the subject. “July is in three months. I gotta start hunting for a dress for the occasion, too. Is there a dress code?” You asked Ursula.

Ursula looked down and started to fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

“Actually…” Barbara took a deep breath in. “Ursula would like to tell you something but she’s scared…”

“So… We will do it for her,” Molly nodded.

You already knew what it was about and you tried your best to keep your smile on although all you wanted to was to cry.

Not even because you were losing the friendship of these girls – they were clearly treating you like shit anyway – but because it all felt so… humiliating. As if you were the village’s outcast all of the sudden. A local pariah.

“I’m not invited?” You crossed your arms.

“No! It’s not like that!” Ursula protested as she looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s… It’s about Benny. I don’t want him at my wedding. So… If you want to come, you are welcome to come alone,” she finished.

“Well, I’ll see if I can come. In July we are going for vacation anyway. The dates might interfere,” you explained with a shrug of your arms. That was a lie.

“Vacation? With Benny? Where?” Susie seemed to be interested now.

“A trip to Florida where his cousin lives,” you explained. At least that part about his cousin was true.

“Florida… Nice…” Barbara sighed and Molly pushed her with her elbow.

For the rest of the meeting, you were silent. Nodding your head at the things the girls were saying and faking laughs here and there, already coming up with the lies to tell them when they’d ask about you but… They never asked.

When they were in the middle of talking about some stupid movie, you all got startled at the sudden sound of the loud engine. All the girls gave you a dirty look as you chuckled.

“Sorry,” you put your hands up in the air. “It’s Benny. I gotta go now. It was nice to catch up with you,” you stood up and waved at them before going to the hall.

You didn’t feel like hugging them or anything like that. You just wanted to be out of the flat.

However, Molly followed you.

“I’ll walk you outside,” she proposed and you furrowed your brows at her but you nodded. She was your closest friend out of them all.

You took the lift downstairs and walked out of the apartment building. Benny’s motorbike was parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. He was leaning on it and smoking a cigarette.

“Wanna say hello to him?” You asked Molly, squinting your eyes at the sun as you put your hand over your forehead to create a shadow.

“Nah, I’m fine, babe,” Molly shook her head and put her hands inside the pockets of her cardigan. “But, you know, I gotta tell you something…” She continued to walk in the direction of Benny’s motorbike but her steps were small as her voice lowered.

“What is it?”

“You know I like you, (Y/N). I don’t like what’s happened to us. I mean, our friend’s group. You know why and what… Who is the reason,” Molly cleared her throat. “You’ve changed, too.”

“Shouldn’t it matter that I’m happy?” You asked her.

“But… Are you? Darling, is there any future in that?” She glanced at Benny who was observing you carefully but you were sure he was standing too far away to hear the whispers. “I just think you deserve better. We all do. Think about that, will you, doll?” Molly patted your arm before squeezing it in a friendly way and waving at you.

She turned around to hurry back inside the building right before the distance was close enough to greet Benny. It looked like she was avoiding him on purpose and she wasn’t even hiding that. It was rude.

You sighed and turned around to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hi, daddy-o. Sorry for making you wait,” you winked at him playfully. “Where are you takin’ me tonight?” You fixed his jacket and kissed his lips when he was not taking a drag of his cigarette.

“There’s a bonfire,” Benny mumbled out. “Hop on,” he pointed at the motorbike.

Benny’s hearing was not perfect after all the years of getting slaughtered by the roaring sound of the motorbikes’ engines. But he was an excellent lip reader – it was one of those useful skills he had learnt over the years. Benny was not a man of many words and he usually preferred to observe the environment around him. Reading lips was helpful for that.

You had been standing with your back turned to him so he had no idea what you had been answering to your friend’s words but he knew perfectly well what that girl had been saying. And then she had just looked him up and down and turned around, without even saying hi. Not that he cared to get a hi from a girl like her. And not that he wasn’t used to people treating him this way.

Still, it had planted an insecurity in his head. And now, during the bonfire, you were acting weird, too.

The sun was slowly going down on that day and a huge bonfire had been lit up. One of the guys had taken their radio and played rock and roll songs. There was lots of beer and a small barbecue and everything smelled like alcohol, sweat, meat and gasoline. After having a few beers, lots of boys were showing off their motorbike tricks, including jumping over the fire. The atmosphere was full of testosterone but most girls didn’t mind that. To date a biker, you had to be used to that. Constant risk, constant danger, constant adrenaline. You were sitting by the bonfire and watching the motorbike tricks as you were sipping on your diet coke through the straw. Benny was smoking a cigarette by one of the cars while he talked to his friends but he kept his eye on his girl and he knew you well enough to see that while the other girls were gossiping next to you, you didn't really pay attention as you were clearly dissociating.

When he finished his cigarette, he walked up to you and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket to make you stand up and follow him inside the house but you shrugged him off and looked away. Benny furrowed his brows but he didn’t give up.

“(Y/N), baby, come on,” he whined a little.

“Gee, Benny,” you rolled your eyes before looking up. “Can’t you see I’m talking to the girls?” You pointed out but the girls looked at you; confused at your words since you had been doing nothing but ignoring them for the past hour.

“I wanna talk to ya,” Benny insisted and you sighed.

“Excuse me, darlings,” you told the girls and put your empty bottle of soda on the ground before standing up and facing Benny.

You followed him in the direction of the house but instead of walking inside, Benny guided you to walk behind, where there was no one around.

“What is it?” You raised your eyebrow at him as you leaned on the wall behind you.

“I’m just wonderin’ why you’re acting like that,” Benny scratched himself behind his neck.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Benny repeated and shrugged his arms. “Dunno, as if I have done somethin’ wrong. Have I?”

“No,” you answered but the answer was very fast and nearly harsh. “No…” You repeated and took a deep breath in as your face softened. “I’m just… That meeting with my friends was weird and I’m overthinkin’ some stuff. That’s it,” you explained. “‘sula’s getting married, you know?” You looked down and played with your foot, drawing circles on the ground with your boot.

Benny’s heart skipped a beat at the word married. 

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to look into your eyes but you kept your gaze low.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “However, I ain’t invited,” you turned your head to look away as you crossed your arms.

“What? Why?” Benny furrowed his brow. He couldn’t understand that. He thought that you were pretty close to those girls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered and looked into his eyes. “I was thinkin’... Maybe we could go to Florida in July? To your cousin? I need a vacation, Benny.”

“Florida’s far away,” Benny shook his head. “The guys need me here.”

“Only for a short time…”

“Nah,” Benny insisted. “We can have a weekend by the lake if ya want to.”

“No,” you sighed. “Listen, I’m tired today, ‘kay?”

“‘kay,” Benny nodded awkwardly and hid his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

Benny hoped that your odd behaviour would change on the next day but it did not. In the morning he didn’t find you in bed and when he walked downstairs, you were already dressed up and drinking coffee by the kitchen window.

“You up already?” He asked, surprised. “Workin’ today?” 

“No. I just couldn’t sleep,” you told him without looking at him.

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked and looked around the kitchen.

“I had pancakes. You can have whatever you want,” you pointed out and he was a bit taken aback by that response. 

Not that he minded making breakfast for himself but you had always been doing it for him ever since he moved to your place.

“Are you angry at me, kitty?” Benny asked, carefully, as he approached the fridge to take a look inside to see what he could eat.

He decided on scrambled eggs as he grabbed a few from the fridge. He put some butter on the pan and heated it up but there was still no answer from you.

“Kitty?” He cleared his throat and turned his head around to look at you.

You took one last sip of your coffee and stood up with a sigh. You put the coffee cup inside the sink and walked past him.

“I’m going to spend a day with my ma,” you told him.

“With your ma?” Benny furrowed his brows. He didn’t like it when you were going to your mum.

Not because he had something against you spending time with your family. But he knew that your mum absolutely hated his guts and she was begging you to dump him each time you were seeing her. For you to meet with her today – a day after your friend had told you that you deserved better… Well, it was not looking good for Benny.

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you told him and then you left the kitchen. A few seconds later, he heard the front door closing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself.

It was late afternoon, nearly evening already, when you came back home. Now, after the meeting with your mum, your head was full of doubts and insecurities about your relationship.

You loved Benny but was it possible that this relationship was really a doomed affair? All your friends were leaving you behind and treating you like your Vandals patch was a scarlet letter. Your mother was begging you all the time to leave Benny behind because he was “no good for you, baby”. It was annoying but she had every reason to be worried – Benny was trouble. He cost you a lot of money, too, when it came to the lawyers, hospitals and the bills. He didn’t even have a steady job. And all of that for what…? There was not even a ring on your fucking finger.

He would drive around all day and then get drunk at the bonfires. That was all he wanted to do. Was he even treating you seriously? Was he planning to settle down with you? That was doubtful. 

You walked inside the house and closed the door loudly behind you before going to the bathroom to wash your hands. Then you took a deep sigh at the sight of your tired face in the mirror and you went inside the living room where Benny was watching TV. He looked up at you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his baby blue eyes that looked extremely sad.

“Hi, baby. Had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah. You?” You kept standing above him.

“Not really,” Benny admitted. “But, hey, it doesn’t matter, yeah? I called my cousin,” he told you and you raised an eyebrow. “I asked him if we could visit him in July and he said that it’s fine.”

Benny swallowed thickly and waited for your response, staring up at you like a puppy. You took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at him with a sigh before sitting next to him on the couch.

“What you watchin’?” You asked him.

“Some stupid movie,” he shrugged. “You happy about Florida?”

“Yeah,” you answered. 

But just because he had done something like this once, it didn’t mean that everything was suddenly okay.

“You haven’t worn your jacket with the patch today,” Benny pointed out awkwardly.

“My ma would kill me!” You chuckled at that with an eye-roll.

Long silence occurred after that. You were both staring at the TV and only pretending to watch the movie. Eventually, Benny moved in closer and put his arm around you. You flinched a little bit but you didn’t move away as your eyes filled with tears.

You loved him. You wanted this relationship to work but... Sometimes love was not enough. Especially when only one person was putting effort.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough for ya, baby,” Benny whispered into your ear and you froze at his words. He kissed your cheek delicately and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m tryin’ my best,” he assured you. “But your friend was right. You deserve better.”

“Benny? What are you talking about? You heard Molly?” You turned your head around and lifted his chin to look up at you.

“Nah. I can read from the lips,” he shrugged and your heart pounded faster in your chest. “Don’t worry, I ain’t angry at ya. She was right. I’m just angry at her for making you realise that.”

You clenched your jaw, not knowing what to say. Somehow, you wanted to comfort him but… There were some things you wanted to say first.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just this way,” you caressed his cheek gently. “I don’t think you’re not enough. Maybe it’s me asking for too much. I knew who you were and what you were like when I took you in. I should have known what to expect,” you shrugged. “You’re just…” Your voice trembled and Benny furrowed his brows at you. “You’re just gonna drive away one day, right?”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head.

“You’re a free spirit, Benny. You’re just gonna hop on the bike and disappear and I’ll be left with the mess to clean and the pieces to pick up. And I was trying not to get too attached but I have. And in return… In return you can’t even make me breakfast. Not even once!” You suddenly snapped as his eyes widened. “I wake up in the morning and make you breakfast every day. I go to work and earn money… Just to spend it later on some shitty lawyers after you get arrested, feeling guilty that I can’t afford a better one. Jesus, and now I can’t even go to my friend’s wedding just because she doesn’t want you there and, guess what, I don’t want to go there alone!” You raised your voice but then you sniffled your tears back and softened again. “I just… I just wish I knew that you were as serious about me as I am about you. That’s it.”

Benny moved uncomfortably and moved his arm away from your shoulder. He took a deep breath in and nodded his head.

“Ya think I’m just gonna drive away one day and leave you without a word?” He asked. “I mean… Yeah, I might. Because I’m clearly a burden. I’m gonna leave, that’s gonna be for the better,” he agreed with you but you could see his jaw clenching and eyes blinking away the fresh tears.

“I didn’t say that you were a burden, Benny,” you tried to explain but he stood up already and went up the stairs.

You followed him and you caught him packing his bag in your bedroom. You leaned on the doorframe and watched him.

“You can’t be serious, Benny. Why can’t we just have a normal conversation about it instead of you running away from the responsibility? You’re kinda provin’ my point at the moment, you know that?” You told him.

“Don’t wanna be a burden,” he insisted and you took a deep breath in before approaching him.

You put your hands on his arms and he flinched a little but he didn’t push you off. However, he kept on packing his things.

“Benny, baby, please, let’s just talk about it, okay?” You tried to talk to him in a soft voice as if he was a wild animal.

In many ways, he was.

“I even called my cousin an’ all that!” He suddenly turned around to look into your eyes. He was visibly angry but at the same time his eyes were glossy. “You wanted a fuckin’ vacation in Florida, so I called and got us a fuckin’ vacation,” he added.

“And I am grateful, baby, I am,” you assured him and placed your hands on his chest. You felt how fast his heart was beating and you caressed him there as if you were trying to soothe his heartbeat itself. “But that’s just… That’s like one time when you show me you’re treatin’ me serious.”

“I’m not treatin’ you serious enough, you say, huh?” Benny straightened his back and looked down at you. “But if I asked you to marry me, you wouldn’t say yes, right? ‘Cuz I ain’t no good enough, am I right?”

You were taken aback by those words. You blinked a few times, very slowly.

“Wha-what are you talking about, Benny?” You tilted your head.

“I wanna make you my wife,” he answered, seriously. “Wanted you as my Mrs. ever since I saw ya,” he confessed. “But I ain’t good enough…” He shook his head and looked away. “And I’ll never be for ya.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as well. You bit on your lower lip and focused hard on overthinking his words. Suddenly, all your insecurities and doubts had disappeared. Your whole body was filled with butterflies.

Gee, yeah, he was… Different from the most. But he was special, too. And he was your Benny. You would never trade him for a man like Patrick for example – Ursula’s fiancé in finance. You would die of boredom with a guy like him. With Benny even those arguments that you were having with him were exciting. The way he was packing his bags or you were threatening to leave every other day, the way you were smashing plates sometimes, the way a phone call from the police station would wake you up in the middle of the night... It was making you feel alive.

“Oh, Benny!” You felt tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks and he looked at you again, confused. “Yes!” You jumped into his arms and he picked you up instinctively. “Yes, yes, yes!” You added and cupped his face to pepper it with dozens of tiny little kisses. “I’m gonna marry you, baby! Even tomorrow! Even now!”

Benny chuckled at that and kissed your lips properly as you put your hands behind his neck. 

“So, you just wanted a ring, my moody kitty, huh?” He teased playfully and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

You arrived at Molly’s place and knocked upon the door, fixing your jeans jacket. She opened the door and invited you in as usual.

It was a month since your last meeting with the girls. They looked you up and down as usual these days but then they furrowed their brows at the sight of your huge grin. Molly entered the living room behind you and took a seat on the couch, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“I have something to tell you,” you told them with a smug smile.

They looked at each other.

“You dumped him?” Barbara asked, excitedly.

“He knocked you up?” Molly, on the other hand, was rather scared.

“Don’t be daft. She wouldn’t be so happy then!” Susie pointed out. Clever as usual.

“I got married!” You exclaimed and showed them your hand with two new additions. A pretty engagement ring that you had chosen for yourself in the pawn shop and a brand new wedding band.

You watched with satisfaction how their mouths dropped. Ursula especially seemed to be butthurt, since you had managed to get married before her.

“And how’s dress hunting, ‘sula?” You teased her.

“I still don’t have a dress,” she admitted. You could see her jaw clenching. “And what were you wearing?”

“A short babydoll,” you answered and sat on the armchair nonchalantly.

“Why haven’t you told us?!” Molly asked and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“Sorry, but… I don’t know how to say it… Benny and the other guys from the club…” You pretended to sound sad. “Well, they didn’t want you girls around, I hope you understand. No outsiders, you know,” you told them.

It was a lie, of course. None of them would have minded your friends coming. But the wedding had taken place a day after your argument with Benny anyway. There had been no time to send out invitations.

“That’s crazy,” Susie commented and you gave her a smug look.

“Gonna tell you somethin’ crazier,” you chuckled and she raised her eyebrows, curiously. “He got my name tatted right on his heart.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[skiiyoomin]

Can I request Bakugou x reader where he has a long lasting unrequited love for her

ღBakugou with unrequited love

ʚCont: Bakugou x gn! reader, unrequited love, one sided love, swearing, a little angst

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a/n how we feeling about this

Why? Why? Why? The one and only time Bakugou falls for someone, and he can´t even have them. Why? He hates it. Hates you. No, he could never hate you. And that´s what pisses him off most. No matter what, no matter how heartbroken you make him feel, he can never have it in himself to hate you. Why? Because he´s so utterly in love with you.

From the moment you first walked in, looking so fucking pretty with that radiant smile, he knew he was fucked. He avoided you at all costs, but the universe had other plans for him. It was when you were paired up for a project that he finally came to the conclusion that he couldn´t avoid you forever. Even if he wanted to.

You're an absolute sweetheart. To everyone including him, even if he acts like he hates you. You know he doesn't. Damn you, why can you read him so well? During the time you worked on the project, he came to respect your hardworking behavior, which softened his edges. Just a little bit, and only for you.

He respects you, he convinced himself. Nothing more, nothing less. But, if he just respects you, then why does he feel green with envy every time someone that wasn´t him made you laugh? Deep down he knew the answer. Of course he knew, there was no other explanation for it. Yet his pride was never gonna let him admit it, at least for now.

These feelings became harder to ignore the more you talked. The more he learned about you. The things you like, the things you dislike. Your favorite restaurant and your go to coffee order. He accepted that he had feelings for you when, after a fun little hang out, you hugged him good night. He was sure you could hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. If you did notice, you didn´t point it out, saving him the humiliation.

From that moment onwards, the already softened edges became a mere puddle, just for you. He´d save you a seat, order an extra coffee, help you with homework. Things he would never ever be caught doing for anyone else. At one point, he grew suspicious that maybe you had feelings too. He grew hopeful. And hope is a dangerous thing to feel. It grows like a seed, it´s roots emerging from the depth of his heart until it sprouts like a tree, growing and growing until it slipped out of control. Until it blinded his judgement and clouded his rational thoughts. And when that hope is crushed, it feels like a wildfire, burning up every last root until it reaches the heart and crushes it.

He hates it. Hates the hope that swarms his chest when you walk just a tad bit closer to him. When your hands brush, a small taste of what could be. He hates his imagination, for running wild in the moments he least wants it too. Hates the yearning in his soul to feel your body laying beside the empty space in his bed. Or the desire he feels to touch you, to taste your lips and trace every crevice of your body.

But he can´t. He never will. Not when someone else´s hands trace the curves of your body. Not when someone else´s lips get a taste of yours. He never believed in right person, wrong time. Now? He wasn´t so sure what to believe. He really really hopes, never a good thing, that his eyes are decieving him. That at last he has to wear his glasses. Who is he kidding? He could be blind and still know it´s you. He knows that´s you wrapping your arms around someone who´s not him. He knows it´s you kissing him back. His heart aches because when you pull away and smile like you had the world in your hands, it´s not him who´s making you smile.

All those times he hoped your small interactions meant something, meant nothing. At least to you. You´ll always just be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Hope is such an ugly little thing that has tore his heart apart. And now reality has slapped him in the face. The universe his looking down on him, holding both middle fingers up because hope blinded him from the truth. Just friends, nothing more, nothing less. That´s all it has been. That´s all it´s ever going to be.

[popponn]

so what if mikage reo is running late and crashes to you—a culinary student, also late—on his rush. predictably, the coffee in his hand got spilled all over his expensive coat. unpredictably, you—a scholarship student too busy trying to survive—don't know how rich he actually is and automatically offer to compensate him somehow.

since washing his coat somehow will cost you ten times your rent while buying one is simply asking for a lifelong debt, you offer to him what you do best—your cooking for a full month. at first, reo really doesn't want it as he doesn't mind. also, stranger danger? but since you are adamant enough to even offer him "i will make it in front of you!" he ends up accepting it.

and somehow, as people say, a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. reo kind of falls in love a bit too hard and a bit too clumsily before he knows it. but hey, if the love of his life is offering him lunch with a full-blown smile maybe learning to be a proper domestic husband while juggling soccer and business is worth it.

#1:

"so, is it good?" you asked in the manner of a true excited cook.

reo wanted to say that he knew it would be good even before he put your food in his mouth. or say that even if you offer him to eat a marshmallow that is one fire he will still do it for you at this point. or maybe he really should just blurt out, "it is. please marry me and let me have your cooking for the rest of my life. i love you."

but, reo has his pride as your trusted food tester—so, with a wide grin that was objectively handsome if not a bit too full of love, reo answered, "very! guess, studying and testing all those spices really paid off, huh?"

#2:

"can you guys—" nagi paused, making a face as if he was tasting the words on his tongue, "—just get it together?"

you blinked. "uh? pardon?"

nagi didn't raise his head from his phone. "reo keeps looking at you like he wants to—"

"dude," chigiri interrupted, kicking nagi's leg visibly. nagi grunted, which chigiri ignored him in favor of offering you a nervous laugh instead. "sorry, reo kind of ruined his game yesterday. he kept grudges—"

"hey, reo kicked my head—"

chigiri immediately kicked nagi's shin hard enough that the table shook. you spared the white-haired male a pitying squint as you tried to not wince too much. you really should have gone to pick up the food with reo.

note: aka a post canon romcom au no plot no braincell just vibe of supportive x supportive. it's reo just falling in love with you who offer good food and good mental support. and hey this au entails classic "rich guy tries domestic mundane things he never even touch once" which of course would let to reo getting your guidance (while staring longing at you like a boy in love). at least this is reo, so through sheer power of natural learning capability and also love, he will do it right at the second or third time. oh, of course nagi and chigiri is there. chigiri wishes reo would stop bragging about your food and you if he isn't going to grow a bone and confess. nagi wishes reo would stop hitting him each time you send him an emoji or a praise—reo you are ruining his full combo. aka do you see idiot 1 & idiot 2? there is never too many idiots to lovers. might have went way too self indulgence thinking about this—"after bllk they still go to uni" this kind of thinking should tell you enough how many braincel is present here. but. uh yeah. "i want to support and comfort reo" is a feeling. anyway ok. thanks for reading this blurb i should be doing something else rn but 🫶 yeah have this. take this. love u.

[taeyongdoyoung]

end of beginning

summary: your perfectionist self can't settle and wants to improve your grades. no matter the cost... pairing: johnny x reader genre: smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), dubcon, power play, neck-kissing, biting, spanking, fingering, slight dumbification, size kink (duh), unprotected sex, creampie, forbidden relationship, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart) word count: 1.5k

You have never felt so foolish as you do now, standing outside of your professor’s cabinet, waiting for his office hours to start. This isn’t like you at all. You are usually at the top of each class, amazing students and teachers alike with your well-written assignments and outstanding participation in the discussions. You are usually the one that professors praise.

To say you feel embarrassed would be an understatement. You are not used to this, asking for help, admitting that you are falling behind, that your grades have never been worse. But if you want to graduate successfully, you have to swallow your pride and face the problem head on.

You don’t know what it is about Professor Suh’s lectures but you just can’t seem to focus. You try to take detailed notes as you do in your other classes, but you end up getting so lost in his beautiful voice, staring at his pretty face and thinking about his big hands as they flick through the pages that your notes end up being messy, incoherent and awfully inaccurate.

You have tried different strategies such as asking other students for their notes but nothing seems to work. So, in your desperation, you end up here, waiting for Professor Suh to put you out of your misery. You hope that no one else shows up during office hours ‘cause it would be too mortifying if other students find out and start making fun of you for being so behind on the material.

“Oh, Y/N!” Professor Suh exclaims in surprise as he unlocks the door to his cabinet, letting you in. “How long have you been waiting? Usually no one comes to these office hours so I’m a bit late. You should have emailed me.”

You stand nervously, your fingers digging into the tender skin of your already sweaty palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” you start to explain.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, it’s just unusual. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” he tries to reassure you in his calming voice.

You take off your bag, putting it on the ground and sit in the chair against his. God, you feel so stupid…

“So, what brings you here?” Professor Suh asks.

“You’ve probably noticed but my grades have been plummeting,” you murmur awkwardly.

“Well, if that’s what you call a couple of B’s, then sure, I guess,” he laughs softly.

“You don’t understand…I know other students may be happy with such grades but this is unusual for me.”

Professor Suh looks at you over his glasses in disbelief.

“You do realize that in real life nobody cares about grades, yes?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” you reach to grab your bag but he stops you.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help you.”

You exhale in relief.

“What is troubling you the most? Is it the material?”

“I don’t know…It doesn’t make sense because I love literature, it’s always come easy to me. I just have a hard time focusing during your lectures, for some reason.”

“Must be my fault, then,” Professor Suh smiles knowingly. “My teaching method isn’t engaging enough.”

“N-no, that’s not what I m-meant,” you stammer nervously. “I’m just…easily distracted, I guess.”

“Oh? Are you like that in your other classes, as well?”

“Not really, no,” you admit, feeling even more embarrassed.

“See? Then I guess I need to improve. Find a way to help you focus,” Professor Suh insists.

“Please help me. I really don’t want to fail your class, it’s very important to me.”

“Is it important to you because you care about your grades or because you don’t want to let me down?” Professor Suh asks staring into your eyes.

The question is so direct that it takes you off guard. You want to look away but you are so captivated you don’t dare to blink.

“I…don’t want to disappoint you, Professor Suh,” you confess. “Your lectures are very engaging and I enjoy listening to them.”

“Do you enjoy the content or the sound of my voice?”

“Professor…” you break eye contact and you are far too gone to think clearly. What is this man doing to you?

Suddenly, he stands up in all his glory, walks to your chair and lifts your chin up with his finger.

“Answer the question.”

“What…what was the question again?” you ask dumbly.

He shakes his head in disapproval.

“Just as I feared. Helping you focus would be quite difficult.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’ll try harder.”

“You better.”

Grabbing a book from his desk, he opens it and puts it in front of you.

“Read. Out loud. Don’t stop unless I tell you to, understood?”

You nod eagerly and start reading.

“We like to think of the old-fashioned American classics as children’s books. Just childishness, on our part.”

Professor Suh starts playing with your hair gently, surprising you but you don’t dare to stop and continue reading to the best of your abilities.

“The world fears the new experience more than it fears anything.”

He is kissing your neck, biting even, eliciting soft moans out of you. How is that going to help you focus?! You feel like your brain is no longer working.

“Keep reading,” he reminds you.

“Cutting away the old emotions and consciousness. Don’t ask what is left.”

Professor Suh makes you stand up and then pushes you down abruptly so that your breasts and tummy are lying on the desk and your ass is up in the air.

“And you can please yourself, when you read the Scarlet Letter, whether you accept what that sugary, blue-eyed little darling of a Hawthorne has to say for himself-” you continue to read, voice shaky and lacking any confidence.

He lifts your skirt up, touching you in all the right places in all the wrong ways. You are so terrified of what is happening but you are even more terrified of stopping to read.

Professor Suh spanks your ass harshly the second you pause briefly.

“N-no, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“Read,” he orders you and you have no choice but to obey.

“They didn’t come for freedom. Or if they did, they sadly went back on themselves.”

Professor Suh takes your panties off and slides his fingers inside your pussy easily, as you are embarrassingly wet. He assaults you vigorously, expecting you to keep reading.

“They came largerly to get away. In the long run, away from themselves.”

“You skipped a few sentences.”

Damnit, how did he catch that?

You go back to the parts you missed but your reading continues to be full of mistakes. Eventually, Professor Suh grows tired of that and takes the book away from you.

“I’m not sure this method is helpful,” he sighs and starts unbuckling his belt. “Might have to find another way for you to acquire knowledge.”

“S-sir?” your voice trembles, though you already anticipate what is coming.

“Stuff you full of it,” he explains calmly and enters you from behind.

You want to scream but you are so afraid of someone hearing that you bite your hand.

Professor Suh seems to notice your concerns, moves your hand away and presses his own against your mouth.

“Shhh, it’s okay, angel, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers gently while doing the opposite of what he’s saying.

He is so big that you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. Miraculously, you are still alive.

“You’re not good at focusing in my lectures anyway so I might as well give you something to remember during them,” he laughs. Oh, he’s so mean. You deserve it, though. For being so greedy. Not satisfied with a B. Stupid girl.

He removes his hand from your lips, trusting you not to make any loud noises.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Why ask now? He’s already gone this far…

“N-no, p-please,” you whimper helplessly.

“No as in stop or no as in keep going?”

You genuinely don’t know what the right answer is. If this is a test, then you’re surely failing.

Apparently, Professor Suh does not care what you have to say. Perhaps it’s your fault for being so slow…He keeps fucking you, going deeper inside of you than any man has ever been. Soon enough, he paints your walls white as if he’s an artist and not a literature professor.

You feel so dizzy, so brainless, so silly.

“Are you alive?” he asks, scooping you up into his big arms.

“N-no?” your response comes out with a questioning tone.

“Take all the time you need to recover,” he tells you thoughtfully.

“Can I ask you something, Professor Suh?”

“You should call me Johnny when we’re alone.”

“Oh, um…Johnny, what if someone had walked in?” you ask fearfully.

“Relax, sweetheart, I locked the door,” he laughs gently.

“Ah, that’s good.”

“Anything else you’re worried about?” Johnny plays with your breasts lazily as you sit in his lap.

“Um, yeah…”

“I’ll write you all A’s from now on if that’s what…”

“I don’t care about that anymore,” you confess teary-eyed. “Was this a one time thing for you, Johnny? Will I have to pretend nothing happened during your lectures?”

He caresses your hair just like how he did when this all started. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like the end.

“Oh, baby, this is just the beginning.”

The End

[simpingforbots]

What if human ended up in transformers one

Part 5

Megatronus

Megatronus is big, very big, the biggest of all primes, the strongest, the coolest, but only for the publick. His fellow Primus knew that below this tank of a bot was a soft one, who just wanted for the war with quintessons to finally end, no matter what it takes, even if complete a genocide of entire race, that wanted the same.

It was pure luck you escaped the quintessons ship after being kidnapped by them, only to ran in to an active battlefield, running for your life and hid behind one of the huge rock as hell happened all over. Fire, strange huge metal creatures fighting those who kidnapped you. One of hugest bot's took cover behind the huge pile of rocks you were hiding behind, spoting you in progress. You stared at him with wide eyes of horror and smiled nervously as you realised that any second this bot might kill you. The big bot only cocked his head and than grabbed you as he rolled away from a big blast, that shattered the rock, keeping you by his chest, shielding with his huge hand while fighting back. When the fight ended he happily showed you off to other Primes, holding you like a kitten, by the scarf of the ragged clothes you had on your self. Other primes were quite surprised by such interesting life and it was decided that Magetronus can keep you. Oh Primus. The big bot definitely had a soft spot for you. Finally on outlet to just let his soft side to take over completely, showering you in pets and treats, besides you clearly showing some kind intelligent, he just did not care. He did kept you far away from Sentinel. You were "allowed" to move aorund via floating pad, that was programmed to follow Megatronus around and it was in your best interest to stay on it unless you wanted to plummet down from a very high place, even if Megatronus would catch you. You also just had to wear the same styled armour as he did. And only you, along with Alpha Triton and Zeta could see his face behind the mask. He hade quite a soft features for someone who was supposed to be scary and would purr when ever you would pat his face, lening in to your small hands, closing his eyes and just letting the guard down. He would love to shower you, filling the small cup with warm soapy water and let you splash around under his watchful eye, he would pay with you, rolling a small ball or let you play with his fingers. Megatronus would also snuggle with you during recharge, wrapping his hand around you, basically trapping in a cage of big, metal fingers. He was also willing to go as far as to find a way to keep you around "longer", no matter the cost. Even if it hurt you, he wanted for you to be there for a bit longer than what medicks told him. after all you were an organic life form and they don't tend to live to long.

Starscream

Starscream is a egotistical bot, it is well known. He had to be the leader of High Guard after their downfall and lase Prime rising to the "throne" he loved control so much it basically made him drunk of it. he even ordered for the thrown of his own to be made in their hide out. But being a leader is also boring. What can bots, who are in hiding do besides scavenging for energon and trying to rebuild their hideout in something more functional for all of them. Boring.

You came in to his existence by accident, during one of his flights with the other seekers, looking for energon, he spotted you near a cave, hiding as you noticed them. It did not take to much effort to pull you out of the hiding and with how small you are, he felt very much in control. So your fate was sealed. he would "command" you to do something, be it as simple as turn over, jump or just try to sound out his name, even if there was language barrier. but after time and countless shocks and punishments, you were able to "understand" what he wanted from you and even somewhat managed to sound out his name, even if it sounded weird. Starscream basically showered in pride of your little pathetic self graveling before his peds, just trying to not get on his bad side. You usually cower by his side as he lazes around, throwing commands and try time to time entertain him by dancing or singing what ever songs you remember. when ever he felt like, he would play with you, if you can call it play. tossing your food so that you would chase it, dangling it on a string above you so that you'll have to jump up and down for it. he would grow soft just a bit to allow you to rest on his shoulder, time to time getting chin scratches, and that's about it. But try to leave the hide out and you will be punished.