#How to add underline in word

[huntercoreene]

Measuring

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: Caleb's preparations for you before the first time you have sex

Word Count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, teasing, slice of life, caleb being a bit of a dork

Read on Ao3 or under the cut 👇

You and Caleb were laying down on the couch, enjoying the lazy afternoon sunset. He had his head on your stomach and you had your hand on his hair, brushing his soft strands.

You thought Caleb was asleep when he lifted the hand that was resting on your belly and stretched his thumb and index finger over your stomach.

“Caleb… what are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Nothing,” he replied to you as he quickly stopped what he was doing and hugged you tighter instead, you felt him nuzzle his head on your chest and smiled.

You knew he was up to something but you were also so comfortable. He had his weight partially on you, the warmth of his body that surrounded you and the comfort of his scent all around… it was impossible for you to keep your eyes from closing any longer.

Caleb sighed as he compared the distance he measured on your belly and the length of his member. “She’s too small… how is it gonna fit?” he said as he scratched his head with the top of his pen.

He knew when you two finally got close enough for it, it was going to be the first time for both of you. He had done his research, reading everything he could find on the subject, from research articles to smutty stories.

He knew he was bigger than average, much bigger and you were so damn tiny. His whole palm could cover the entirety of your stomach when he splayed it on your skin. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy comparing the difference in your sized but this was making him worry.

He picked up his special notebook and flipped it open. Extra big condoms were already taken care of. He had ordered them and they would arrive soon. He tapped his pen on the notebook, should I get some lube, too? He was confident he could make you wet enough to take him but he added it to his list just in case. It wouldn’t hurt to have it somewhere easily accessible.

He underlined the point that wrote ‘toys’. He knew logically that getting you loosened up and ready with smaller dildos could be helpful… buuuut he hated the idea of not being the first thing inside you. He scratched over the point that wrote dildos with force. No. Even imagining it was making him jealous.

Vibrators, he thought as his eyes settled on the word. He didn’t hate the idea of them but both vibrators and dildos had the risk of freaking you out on your first time so it was not gonna happen, either. His eyes flickered down to the last point on the toys section, his mechanical arm.

His face flushed with how lewd the thought was but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining it. He could calibrate his mechanical arm to stimulate vibrations. The thought of using it while fingering you had gotten him to the finish line a few times already. It was an afterthought though. He worried it would be too much for your first time, and to be honest he was unsure about using it at all in such a way. Still, he was working on how he could implement such a function — it was better to be prepared, after all. The biggest drawback of his mechanical arm was that he was not going to be able to feel you with it, even if his fingers were inside you... though he still would prefer to use his arm, something that was a part of him than a completely disconnected toy.

His mind slipped into imagining how your face could look like when he pleasured you and all the pretty noises you could make when he slipped his fingers in between your wet folds, getting you ready to take all of him… ah shit, he thought as he felt the familiar strain in his pants. He had slipped into the office to add things to his notebook while you were sleeping on the couch in the living room. The last thing he wanted was getting caught by you while he pleasured himself.

The thought of getting caught by you in such a situation was embarrassing but also… it was not helping how hard his cock has gotten.

“Ugh,” he groaned as he focused back to his notepad.

If possible, relieve yourself before you see her on the event.He added to his notes. He certainly didn’t want to come undone in his pants while in the middle of touching you, seeing how he was releasing precum already just thinking about it… he sighed with frustration. He could not let that happen and let you down.

“Caleb, where did you go?” came your voice from the door, making him jump from where he sat.

“Nothing,” he responded quickly and scrambled to cover his notepad. He was so focused on what he was doing and had not heard you come in, at all.

“What were you doing?” you walked closer to him.

He got up and covered his desk with his body. “Nothing important, are you hungry? It’s getting late. What do you want for dinner tonight?”

You acted like you were thinking before quickly reaching behind him to take his notepad.

“Pipsqueak!” you heard his voice drop an octave as he pulled the notepad away from your hands.

“What’s in there that got you so flushed?” You said as you reached to grab it back from him.

He raised his hands before he switched the notepad to his other hand as he held you away with his free one. “It’s classified.”

You jumped to reach to it — you were not going to give up that easily. “You keep classified notes on a cute notepad covered with stickers I gave you?”

“Yes, exactly. It makes me miss you less when you're not around,” his sweet words and caring voice gave you a pause as he left a kiss to the top of your head. “Now, come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Fiine,” you gave up… for the moment.

He tried to be as swift as possible in his movement while covering your field of vision but you could be sneaky, too. You took note of it as he placed the notebook on top of the library. You were not gonna give up until you’ve figured out what could get Caleb so flustered.

Inspired by this fanart

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Part 2 is here

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

Yandere Killer x Reader

You don’t hear about your sister’s death until the morning after. You’re pouring cheap coffee into a chipped mug, thumb absentmindedly rubbing at a lipstick stain that isn’t yours, when the news report flashes across the television above the counter.

“—young woman, twenty-three, found in an abandoned building off Mulberry. Police believe foul play may be involved.”

The name makes you freeze. The words blur after that.

Your shift ends early. Your manager mumbles something about taking as long as you need, but his eyes dart toward the schedule like your grief is a logistical problem. You leave without saying goodbye.

Your sister’s name doesn’t feel real on the obituary page. Just black ink on grey paper. It says she liked poetry and animals. It doesn’t say she used to steal your clothes or that she could never remember your birthday. It doesn’t say that she owed you money. It doesn’t say you loved her.

It doesn’t say what was done to her.

The cops won’t tell you much. Ongoing investigation, they say. You try to ask again, later, but the detective barely looks up from his notepad.

You think it’s over. You think it’s just another horrible thing in a world full of them. But then, a week later, you find the envelope. No return address, just your name, printed in neat block letters. Inside: a photograph. Black and white. Your sister. Eyes closed. Her mouth is open, like she’s saying something. Behind her is a crumbling brick wall and nothing else.

You recognize the necklace she’s wearing. You gave it to her last Christmas.

There’s no note. No explanation. But you know — it was taken after she died.

You tell the police. They say they’ll look into it. You can tell they don’t believe you. Or maybe they do, but it doesn’t matter. You’re just the family. Just a footnote.

It doesn’t stop. Another envelope arrives, and another. Sometimes it’s photos. Sometimes newspaper clippings about the murder, with certain words underlined in red pen. One of them is a picture of your apartment building, taken from across the street.

You stop sleeping. You jump at shadows. You think you see someone standing across the road at night, but when you blink, they’re gone.

The third letter has something new: a note.

“She screamed your name before she died. I thought you should know.”

You throw up in the sink. You call the police again. They don’t help.

He watches you. You don’t know it yet, but he’s there. He watches you lock your door three times in a row. He watches you flinch at the sound of tires screeching in the street. He watches you cradle your phone like a lifeline when you walk home at night.

He’s fascinated by you.

You’re different than the others. You’re not begging for your life. You’re surviving. You’re enduring. You’re unraveling — beautifully, slowly — and he thinks he’s the only one who really sees it. He did this to you, after all. This grief? This fear? It was his gift.

He calls it connection.

He knows things about you now. How your voice sounds when you’re reading under your breath. What you hum when you’re doing dishes. The way you whisper her name at night, like she might hear you. Like she might come back.

He learns your schedule. Where you shop. Which friends you’ve stopped talking to. Which ones still try to call. (You don’t answer anymore.)

He thinks about introducing himself. Casually. In a grocery store aisle. On the bus. In a coffee shop. Somewhere ordinary. He imagines how startled you’ll be when you realize how much you need him.

He writes your name over and over in a notebook, his handwriting getting more frenzied with each page. He adds hearts around it, then crosses them out until the paper tears.

He breaks into your apartment when you’re gone. Just to look. Just to see how you live. What you keep. What you miss.

He sits on your bed for hours.

One night, you wake up and the air feels wrong. You don’t hear anything, not at first, but something in your bones tells you you’re not alone. You creep into the hallway, heart pounding, and find your front door open.

Not just unlocked. Open.

You call the police. They take a report. They don’t do much else.

You move out a week later. A friend lets you stay on her couch. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t need to — you look haunted.

You change your number. You deactivate your social media. You start carrying a gun in your bag, even though you’ve never used one.

Still, the envelopes come. Now addressed to your friend’s house.

The notes get more personal.

“You looked at me today. You didn’t know it, but you did.”

“I miss her too. But she wasn’t like you.”

“You’re the only one who understands.”

There’s a mirror above your friend’s fireplace. You catch yourself looking at it too often, trying to see what he sees. Why you? What is it about you that made him choose you, follow you, claim you?

You wonder what would happen if you wrote back. If you left a note of your own.

Why are you doing this?

Or maybe:

What do you want from me?

But the real question — the one that curls in your stomach late at night — is darker.

What would it feel like if you answered? If you gave him what he wanted? If you stopped running?

You never met your sister’s killer.

That’s what you tell yourself.

But you remember a man from the funeral. He wasn’t a friend or a family member. You assumed he was a co-worker, or someone she knew from school. He stood in the back. Said nothing. His eyes never left you.

You thought he looked familiar. You thought maybe you’d seen him around.

You think about him too much.

And sometimes, you wonder if he’s still out there. If he’s still watching.

And worse—if he’s waiting.

Because you haven’t heard from him in three months.

And that, somehow, is the most terrifying thing of all.

Masterlist

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Green's my color

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary It's supposed to be an undercover mission to retrieve an artifact from a museum fundraiser. Dressing up, free drinks... and pretending Dean's your boyfriend. Surely, nothing can go wrong. CWs Dressing up. Fake dating & real feelings. Dean being a scheming cutie. Teen. 6.9k words.

Dean Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

You’re running your hands over the fabric of the dress, making sure there’s no creases, when you hear raised voices from the next room. Frowning, you open the bathroom door to the bedroom and walk in.

Dean has his hands crossed in front of his chest, is shaking his head while Castiel looks on and Sam is staring down at the sleeves of the tux he rented for tonight. They don’t even reach down to his wrists.

“It fit when I put it on at the store,” he says, tugging at the fabric, a desperate look on his face.

“Please don’t tell me you’re still growing,” Dean says, chuckling a little.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Castiel adds. “Human males don’t typically keep growing once they’ve reached their early twenties. Sam is much too old for that.” Sam huffs, then takes off the jacket.

“I’m not much too old for that,” he complains under his breath. You take a step closer to them.

“The suit doesn’t fit?” you ask, three pairs of eyes going to you. Dean’s eyebrows go up, making you immediately feel self-conscious.

“Woah,” he says, “you look hot.” You cross your arms over your chest, hoping you’re not blushing.

“Thanks,” you say, your brain scrambling to get back on topic. “Do we have time to get a different one? In a size that fits the growing boy?” Sam scoffs, then looks at his watch.

“I don’t think so,” he says, making a face. “We’re running late as it is.” He looks up, first at his brother, then at the angel.

“Alright, change of plan. Dean or Cas are gonna have to go with you,” Sam concludes.

Slight panic spreads through your chest. You don’t mind pretending to be Sam’s girlfriend for an evening. You’ll joke around and he’ll be too interested in the artifact on display to pay much attention to you. Castiel would also be fine, albeit a bit awkward, but Dean? Walking around together, holding hands, being victim to his charm the entire evening, plus him in a tux? You’re not sure you could take it. To your horror, Dean doesn’t seem to have the same reservations.

“In that case we’re gonna have to make Cas look a lot richer,” he says and when Sam throws him a questioning look, he turns to the angel. “No offense, man, but she’s way out of your league.” You raise your eyebrows at him, smiling a little at his cockiness.

“But I’m not out of yours?” you ask, tone teasing. Dean gives his most charming grin.

“Darlin’,” he says, “maybe I’m out of yours.” You roll your eyes, but it seems the decision’s been made. Dean’s gonna be your date for tonight, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The Impala chugs along as Dean pulls up in front of the museum, both of you looking towards the entrance.

“You got the invitations?” you ask and Dean nods, turns off the engine before patting the front of his jacket.

“Can’t believe Crowley pulled this off,” he says and you huff.

“He’s getting something out of it, so I’m not too surprised,” you say. Dean nods, then turns to you, hands adjusting his collar.

“How do I look?” he asks and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You know you look good, so don’t go fishing for compliments,” you say and Dean grins. “Although I think the spiky boy band hair doesn’t really go with the occasion.” To underline your words you raise your hand, pretend you’ll run it through the front of Dean’s hair, but he moves away with a chuckle.

“Hasn’t hurt me yet,” he says, to which you can only mmh. Then he looks you up and down, as far as that’s possible with both of you still sitting. “You look really good too, you know?” You shift in your seat, hoping he doesn’t see how his words affect you.

“Obviously I do, green’s my color” you reply, referring to the velvety fabric of your dress, but when you look into Dean’s eyes, you’re reminded of the startling green there as well. You swallow. “Shall we?”

Dean gets out without another word, and while you’re still arranging your dress and your heels and your purse, he suddenly opens the door on your side, extending a hand down to you. You take it after a second of hesitation, let him help you out of the car.

“I didn’t know you could be such a gentleman,” you say, and Dean clicks his tongue.

“You’ve just never been treated to the Dean Winchester special,” he says, making you laugh.

“What does that include?” you ask, as you wrap your arm around his when he extends it to you, trying not to notice how close it brings your bodies to each other, how nice his biceps feels under your palm. “Daddy issues and a rash?”

Dean laughs, and you adore him for it. The last guy you were seeing broke things off because you didn’t seem available. He constantly asked about Dean, and who could blame him – there were probably few men with enough confidence to enjoy their women constantly being around someone with those looks, that charisma. But in the last and final argument you had, he implied that you needed to stop hoping Dean would come around. You’ve tried to ignore the words, but it’s made you wonder if you should keep Dean at a distance. Not for the first time, you promise to yourself you will, really this time, but the problem is that he gets so damn genuine and it just moves something in you that makes you nervous.

The man at the front door asks for your tickets, and Dean gives them to him. He verifies them, then gives Dean a knowing smile.

“Just gotta say, sir,” he says, “she’s a beaut.” Dean smiles, then looks at you.

“Ain’t she just?” he says and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. But then Dean turns back to the security guy, who has an awkward look on his face.

“I meant your car, sir,” he says, then quickly adds: “I would never—But the lady as well, of course.” You don’t miss the awkward side glance Dean throws you. All part of the cover, you tell yourself.

When you walk in, your eyes trail up, looking at the beautiful glass ceiling of the building. There’s money here, serious money, and you shake your head at it, then turn back to Dean.

“Okay,” you say, all business now, “we’re looking for Sir William Ogden’s walking cane. Well, not the cane itself, but the handle— Dean, are you listening to me?”

Dean’s looking around, but he looks at you with slightly pursed lips.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” he asks. You raise the hand that isn’t slung around his arm, then drop it at your side.

“I mean, we can get a drink,” you point out, “or we could get the weird, mysterious artifact we came for and just go home?” Dean narrows his eyes, thinks for a second.

“Drink sounds good,” he concludes, and drags you towards the ornate bar.

You both stand in front of it, and a young man in a white tux takes your order.

“Whiskey on the rocks for me,” Dean says, and you’re glad he’s blending in enough to not order a beer, but then he points his finger at you. “Martini for the lady.” The guy behind the bar looks at you.

“Dirty, please,” you say and he nods, moves down the bar to prepare your drinks.

“So the cane,” you continue, “it has the silver figure of a toad as its handle, and it—”

“I never got the olive thing,” Dean says, grabbing a handful of the fancy bar snack standing in a small bow in front of him, before leaning on the bar and turning to you. “Doesn’t seem like something that should go in a drink.” You drop the hands you just raised to gesticulate.

“Okay,” you say, scratching at your forehead, “is there a reason you are more focused on the cocktail menu than the actual reason we came here?” Dean studies you for a split second, then turns away, then looks back at you with a disarming smile.

“Same reason I picked up a tux that’s two sizes too small for Sammy,” he answers, sounding a little too proud of himself. You frown at him.

“You…did what?” you ask, not understanding. Dean shrugs.

“I’m sure it would have been a great time,” he says, not sounding like he believes that at all. “I saw some scrolls back there that I’m sure Sam would go wild over.” You can’t help but chuckle at Dean’s description of his brother.

“But you’ve kind of had a rain cloud over your head for a while,” Dean continues, looking just a little more serious, “so I thought you deserved a night out. A fun night out.”

You open your mouth to say something, but just in that moment, your drinks arrive. Dean raises his glass, and clinks it against yours, but you don’t move to drink.

“You did that for me?” you ask, keeping his gaze. “To cheer me up?” Dean grins broadly at you.

“I’m awesome,” he says, clinking his glass against yours again, maybe hoping you'll finally drink. “I hope this isn’t the first time you’re noticing.” You smile, then take a sip of your drink. It tastes expensive.

Dean and you both turn your back to the bar, look into the room. Lots of fancy people around, looking very comfortable in their suits and dresses, holding drinks they’re not paying for, probably not even thinking about the checks they’ll sign later. It’s a fundraiser after all, and you doubt they’re invited if a charitable donation hurts their wallets.

Dean’s standing close to you, and you’re sure it’s part of the cover. You’re both younger than the average couple here, but then you could just pass as the heirs to some fortune or other. It’s a likely story.

You move your shoulders, not sure how to feel at Dean’s confession. It’s true, you haven’t been feeling amazing since you and James broke up, but that’s normal, right? It’s made you feel a little lonely. It’s not like you were planning to spend your life with the guy, but it drove home the point that it’s difficult enough to find a connection to anyone, never mind in this business.

The fact that Dean wants to comfort you makes your heart melt and your defenses go up in equal measures. You’re hip to his tricks, and while you’re sure he knows you’re not up to just being a potential fling, you don’t know if you would have it in you to stop any advanced if they ever happened. And if something did happen and it meant more to you than to Dean – well, you’re not sure your pride could take that. So you’ve been unsure how to approach things. A roll in the hay with Dean Winchester would be sure to take your mind off things. But for a rebound, maybe it would be better to pick someone you’re not certain you’ll fall head over heels in love with.

You sigh, raise your glass, take a sip. “I’m gonna go freshen up,” you say. Dean turns to you, a questioning look on his face, but you put down your drink and grab your purse before he can point out you’ve been here all of ten minutes. You walk as quickly as your high heels will carry you.

Another sigh leaves you as you sit down on the closed toilet lid. This was stupid. You know Dean means well, but he should have let Sam be your date. It would have been easy, uncomplicated, and right now, uncomplicated is about the only thing you can handle. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Dean is that sweet to you. You know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about, but it’s not helping with your incapacitating crush on him.

You let your head drop back. There it is. The words you have been refusing to admit even to yourself. Turns out all it takes is Dean in a nice outfit and two sips of a Martini to tickle it out of you.

Damn it. Damn it.

You get up, walk outside to the sinks. You’re gonna get your act together, you think while you wash your hands, just for the show of it and also to delay the moment you have to walk out there again. You’re gonna get it together, and you’re not gonna let James’ words mess with you – the guy couldn’t even find your g-spot, what does he know about what your feelings for Dean might be?

You walk out of the bathroom with renewed vigor, only to be immediately deflated when you approach the bar. Dean is talking to a woman – an attractive woman – in a hot pink dress. His back is turned to you but even from this angle you're sure he’s flirting.

A mean pinch goes through your body. It shouldn’t hurt like that. You have no right to Dean’s undivided attention, you know that, but it still hurts. Because it might blow your cover, you quickly add to your own thoughts. You can’t even convince yourself.

So you walk over there, a woman on a mission. You sway your hips a little, shoes loud on the expensive wooden floor. When you get close, you let your hand run up Dean’s back, like he’s yours. Well, tonight, he technically is.

He turns, a surprised look on his face. The other woman looks at you – she’s older than you, one of those women who just become more stunning the more years pass by, so you know she’s Dean’s type exactly. But you can’t care about that right now.

“There you are, honey,” you say in your sweetest voice. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” You reach past him, grab your drink and quickly take a big sip, hoping some liquid courage is exactly what you need. You turn to the woman, who studies you like a fly that just landed in her soup. You can’t blame her.

“Well, I should get going,” she says, ignoring your presence, but throwing another brilliant smile at Dean. “It was lovely to talk to you. You’ll have to finish that story some other time.” She nods at you, and then turns around and walks away. You drop your hand off Dean’s back immediately, down your drink.

“You want another one?” Dean asks. “They’re free, you know.” You lick your lips, put the glass on the bar.

“I know it must be hard for you,” you say, and by the change in Dean’s expression you know he can tell immediately that you’re not joking, that you’re serious, and you don’t want him to know that, but you’re not sure how to get that tone out of your voice. “But can you keep it in your pants, just for one night? We don’t need anyone to know that we’re not actually a couple.” You nod at the bartender, point at your glass, then turn to Dean. He looks confused, but not ashamed.

“We were just chatting,” he says, sounding a little confused, and you can’t quite believe he’s actually gonna pretend this was nothing, that he wasn’t flirting, like you are a real, actual couple and he’s lying to you, making you feel like you’re imagining things. James did that. Why in the world did you ever date that ringworm?

“I’m sure you were,” you say, scratching at your elbow just to give your hands something to do. “But it’s…look, I know it’s not real, but it’s embarrassing, okay? To have your pretend boyfriend flirt with someone else for everyone to see.”

Well, you didn’t mean to make a scene, but you sure managed to do it anyway. Humiliation follows the sharp taste of jealousy, making your skin prickle. Dean probably gets as lonely as you do. He has the right to make that feeling go away any way he chooses to. You date idiots and he has sex with women he’ll never see again. Whatever makes the nights seem less cold.

To your surprise, Dean doesn’t double down, snipe at you with some practiced remark. He blinks, seems to think about your words, and you wish he didn’t, wish he could just be a little bit of a smartass, but of course this is the moment he picks to let that sweet side of him show.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he says and you press your lips together, look down.

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, quietly. “Just don’t wanna blow our cover.”

“You’re right,” Dean responds. “That was stupid. She came over to talk to me, but it was still stupid. I was stupid.”

“You’re not…” you start, then wait for the bartender to put down your new drink before you continue. “It wasn’t stupid. It’s fine.” And because you feel like maybe this can be helped if you can be Dean’s buddy, you add: “She was really hot.” Dean huffs, pushes one hand into the pocket of his dress pants.

“My head’s in the game,” he says, looking at you. “I’m gonna be the best fake boyfriend in the world, okay?” You can’t help but smile at that, and Dean smiles back, almost proud.

This is going to be a difficult night.

The two of you grab your drinks and begin exploring the room. Your arm is hooked around Dean’s again, and you both collect observations about your surroundings – how much security there is, potential exits, the laugh of a particularly rich looking older man. Only the thing is, when Dean leans in to tell you something, he does it in a way that looks to the outside world like he’s whispering something naughty in your ear. Once or twice the tip of his nose brushes the shell of your ear, and you can feel his breath on the side of your face. The brainless giggle you give afterwards every time is just for the cover, of course. You wanted this, after all, for him to focus.

Someone walks by with a plate of hors d'oeuvre and Dean reaches for it, almost as if on instinct, shoves the little bite-size appetizer into his mouth. For a second he looks appreciative of the taste, but then his expression turns.

“Date?” you ask, guessing that something unexpected was hidden under the layer of bacon. Dean shakes his head, grimacing.

“It’s something else,” he says around the food in his mouth. “Apricot?”

You make a sympathetic face, then reach for another tray held by a waitress nearby, grab a napkin and pass it to Dean. He discreetly deposits what’s left of his mouth in the napkin, then throws you a look.

“How could anyone do that to bacon?” he mumbles, his tone embarrassed. In response, you squeeze his arm.

“It’s a crime,” you say and Dean looks almost relieved. He is unbearably cute like this.

You’re walking into a second room, a couple of stairs separating it from the one you were just in – Dean extending his hand to help you walk down them in your heels, then not dropping said hand, so neither do you – when you hear someone speak up behind you.

“Mister Ogden?” someone says, and you and Dean both ignore it, because neither of you is feeling very Ogden-ish tonight. But then there’s quick footsteps, and suddenly the man with the rich laugh from earlier is in front of you. He gives an apologetic little smile before he addresses Dean.

“Apologies,” he says, “but you wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Ogden? William Ogden the Fifth?” You can see Dean hesitate for just a second.

That’s not the name you got on your fake tickets for this night, which probably means the real Mr. Odgen is somewhere in this building right now or will be soon. But it’s also the same last name of the original owner of the artifact you’re looking for, so who knows what kind of privileges this will afford you.

“One and only,” Dean says with a charming smile, then extends his hand to shake the other man’s. A relieved expression comes over rich guy’s face.

“We were worried you might not make it, sir,” he says, giving away he must be the curator of the museum as he shakes Dean’s hand intensely. “We understood that you were on your way back from a safari and your private plane was grounded?” He makes a face like he just found out you had to call a plumber for your kitchen sink. Small inconveniences.

“Yes, yes,” Dean says, nodding. “Luckily we just…took my other plane.” The way the other man reacts shows you this isn’t a crazy thing to say. To your horror, he turns to you next.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” he says, extending his freed-up hand after he drops Dean’s to you. You take it, smile politely.

“Patricia,” you say, not sure why you come up with that particular name. And then, because he looks at you expectantly, and your brain isn’t done playing tricks on you, you add: “Highsmith.” Here’s hoping this guy doesn’t read.

“Charmed, charmed,” he says, nodding and finally letting go of you. “Are you enjoying the evening?” Dean nods, then inclines his head, before he lays his arm around you, hand landing on your lower back. It fits there perfectly, you catch yourself thinking, trying to shove the thought away.

“We are,” he says, “but we haven’t seen my great grandfather’s walking cane yet.” You bite down on the urge to point out that Dean is missing a couple of “greats” in that description, instead look at the other man.

“Of course,” he replies, “it reserves a special place further down the room.” Dean nods, then inclines his head towards you.

“This one’s been so excited to see it,” he says and you do your best to look enthused. “She just loves… canes.” You press your lips together.

“May I guide you to the exhibit then?” the other man asks, and Dean nods, then turns to you.

“Doesn’t that sound good, honey?” he asks and you turn to him too just as he leans in.

You can only explain what happens next by assuming that Dean means to peck you on the cheek, or whisper something in your ear. You’re not sure why he’d want to do that, maybe just to underline your cane enthusiasm, but you turn to him at the same time, thinking he’s going to say something, so what ends up happening is that his face is suddenly extremely close to yours. So close that you would only have to move an inch for your lips to touch.

You’re still smiling, but it drops off your visage when you realize how close Dean is to you. The tips of your noses are almost touching and when your eyes shoot up, you are looking straight into the mesmerizing green of his. You blink, finding it impossible to tear yourself away. Too stunning are the long lashes, the freckles speckled over the bridge of his nose. He always looks a little cross-eyed when you’re this close to him – not that you often get the opportunity.

The thing is, Dean also doesn’t move away. He looks into your eyes, first one, then the other, so close that he needs to pick one at a time. His hand on your back twitches. It’s not until rich guy starts talking again that you both look away.

“Very well,” he says, looking between you two, his professional exterior cracking for the first time as he probably wonders, exactly like you, what the hell just happened. “Follow me then.”

You dare another look at Dean, see him swallow. You both begin walking after your guide when. There’s a thick cloud of awkwardness surrounding you, but you notice that Dean doesn’t remove his hand from where it is.

The cane itself is pretty unimpressive. Oh, it’s nice for a walking cane, but it is just that. The toad that makes up the handle is pretty cool, far as toads go. You realize you are concentrating like this because the alternative is concentrating back on Dean. And that just won’t do right now. Someone walks past you with a tray, and you and Dean both put your empty drinks on it while you resist the urge to grab one of the glasses of champagne on it, just to have something to quiet your brain.

Rich guy has elected to tell the two of you all about the history of the cane, who made it, who sold it and then what important historical events Grandpa Ogden took it to. You’re nodding along, but only half listening. A small crowd has formed around the exhibit, others intently listening to the history lesson, but neither you nor Dean say anything else until you speak up.

“So,” you say quietly, trying to re-break the ice that has apparently just frozen over the lake that is you and Dean. “How are we gonna get this thing out of there?” Dean takes a slow breath.

“Can’t do a hit and run, too out in the open,” he says.

“Then we wait until after closing,” you say, “or we need a distraction.” Dean purses his lips, then turns to look at you, the first time since the incident.

“You could get naked,” he suggests, a charming grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. You blink, then can’t help yourself but chuckle.

“You think that would scare people off enough for you to grab grampa's toad cane?” you ask, voice challenging and cheeky. Dean huffs.

“They’d probably be so distracted by you I could break the glass and then do a tap dance number with the thing,” he says. You’re just opening your mouth when the realization that what he’s saying is more a compliment than anything else hits you. You close it again, try to act unaffected, so you turn back to the exhibit.

“Getting arrested for public nudity would almost be worth it to see you tap dance,” you say and Dean chuckles.

“And that is how we end up here today,” the museum guy is finishing up, “with this wonderful artifact of rich history, generously donated by the Ogden family.” He extends his hand in the direction of you and Dean, and most of the people standing around turn too. For whatever reason, Dean responds to the looks by pulling you closer to him. You need to take a small step so you don’t stumble, and irrevocably end up leaning against Dean. You hope the heat you feel rushing to your face isn’t visible from the outside.

“What the hell?” you hear a loud voice behind you, and everyone turns around, “I’m William Ogden’s descendant! Who is this clown?”

To be fair, you understand why someone would mix you up with the couple standing behind you. They’re young and attractive, dressed expensively and standing so close to each other it’s almost a little exhibitionistic. They do look a little douchier than you and Dean do, but then money doesn’t automatically come with good taste.

You and Dean look at each other, before he turns back to the curator.

“Oh, Ogden?” he says, trying to feign surprise. “I thought you said, uhm, Walden. Sorry, this is all a big misunderstanding.” You throw a fake smile at the crowd around you as Dean gently but determinedly begins leading you away. He drops his hand, only to wrap it around yours as you both turn towards the exit. Your skin prickles where he touches it.

It’s no use, of course. Security’s on you immediately.

You pace up and down as much as the small antechamber allows. Every time you make a turn, you have to step over Dean’s extended legs from where he’s sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He’s opened his bowtie and it’s hanging around his neck, making him look a little too good.

“Look, it happens,” he says as you step over his legs again. “We tried something, didn’t pan out. It’s not the end of the world. When the cops get here, we tell them we’re FBI, make something up. We’ve gotten out of worse situations before.” You make another round.

“It’s not that,” you say, shaking your head a little. You can hear shuffling and when you look back, Dean is standing up.

“What is it?” he asks, frowning, giving you a questioning look. You stop where you are, because if you keep walking you’re gonna need to squeeze past him.

“I just…” you say, crossing your arms in front of you. “I just really could have used a win.” Dean leans against the wall behind him, grinning.

“We got to dress up and there were free drinks,” he says. “That’s a win in my book.” You look down at the floor.

“I’m serious, Dean,” you say. “Everything lately has just been…” You let the sentence taper out, noting how sad it makes you feel.

“Is this about that idiot?” Dean asks, and he doesn’t have to clarify what idiot he’s talking about. You sigh.

“No,” you say, then chew the inside of your lip for a second. “Yes. Maybe.”

“He was a douche,” Dean says, tone unbelieving. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I picked him,” you say, not quite believing that you are having this kind of conversation with Dean, but also unwilling to stop. “What does that say about me?” Dean inclines his head, gives you the seriously? look he does.

“It doesn’t say anything about you,” he says. You tighten your arms around yourself.

“Do you think I seem… unavailable?” you ask. Dean blinks, but then leans back, studies you.

“You’re not looking very inviting right now,” he says and you can’t help but chuckle at that. “But I know getting through those crossed arms is worth it.” You press your lips together, then force yourself to drop your arms.

“I knew he was an ass,” you say, voice quieter, “but at least I knew what kind of ass he was. There were no surprises. No risks. Does that make sense?” Dean purses his beautiful lips, seriously thinks about what to say and it makes your heart beat faster.

“Familiar can be good,” he says finally. “I get the appeal.” You raise your eyebrows.

“But?” you ask, because it sounds like he’s not done. Dean smiles, then pushes himself off the wall, slowly walks towards you, the hard-won distance shrinking like it’s nothing.

“But maybe sometimes it’s worth stepping out of your comfort zone,” Dean continues. You give an unsure laugh as he comes closer, feel the need to bring your arms in front of you again. But at the same time, you don’t want to, so you keep them down.

Dean stops right in front of you, closer than normal conversational distance would allow. He’s studying your face.

“What?” you ask, unsure. Dean thinks for another second before he answers.

“Can I try something?” he asks and you frown a little at him.

“I, uhm, what do you wanna try?” you ask. Dean chuckles.

“Would it kill you just to trust me for a second?” he asks. You shift in place.

“Okay,” you say.

Dean takes another step closer. There’s the instinct to step back, to allow him room, but it’s overridden by the magnetism of his closeness. His eyes drop to your lips as he comes closer and you almost flinch when his hand lands on your waist, moves over it to wrap around your back. Dean lowers his head at the last second.

His lips meet yours, softly, gently. It’s not the electrifying kind of kiss. Instead, it feels like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a cold day. It’s intimate and sweet. It’s a kiss just for the sake of a kiss.

Of course your brain, always one to ruin the fun, suddenly chimes in. Makes you worried. With the strength of an Amazon you bring your hands up before you and gently push them against Dean's chest, making him separate from you.

“What are you doing?” you ask. Dean opens his eyes, because they were closed, because he was kissing you, your brain screams. He blinks at you.

“Ohh boy,” he says with a light twitch of the corners of his mouth. “See, we call this kissing. It's something humans do when they like each other, when they find each other attractive. What do they do on your planet?”

For a second, you just stare at him. You wanna laugh, because it's Dean, because laughing feels like a good thing to do right now. Because laughing could get you out of the immense confusion you're feeling. Instead tears shoot to your eyes and you push Dean further away.

“Don't do that,” you say. “Don't do that, okay? Don't... joke about this.” Dean blinks again, impossibly long lashes meeting his cheeks. He looks at you, now also confused.

“Don't make out with me just because this evening is a bust and you don't think you'll get to take anyone else home tonight,” you explain, steadying your voice.

“That is--” Dean says, pulling his head back a little. “That is not what this is. That is so not what—I’m... Are you serious?”

You raise your hand, pinch the bridge of your nose in the hope you can collect yourself.

“Dean,” you say. “I can't... Please don't do this right now, okay?” You look back up at him. He looks down, then back at your face and he looks... Does he look hurt?

“I'm sorry,” he says “I thought...” He takes a step back, his hands dropping off you, and you hate it.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, not looking at you.

“Look,” you say, “I'm flattered. You're like the most attractive guy I've ever met, and it's not that I'm not interested. I just don't think I have the mental capacity right now to hook up with someone I really like and still keep those two things separate.” You rub your hands over your arms.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks.

“It means,” you say, “I'm feeling vulnerable and I would probably fall in love with you if you so much as smiled at me one more time. Making out with you is gonna destroy me, Dean.” You try to laugh a little at the end, show that actually this is a huge compliment to him. But Dean still looks confused.

“So you're saying I'm not boyfriend material?” he says and it sounds a little like he's trying not to sound offended. You study his face.

“I think you are,” you say, “that's kind of the problem. I think you are perfect, dreamy boyfriend material. Which is exactly why this is a bad idea.” Dean nods slowly.

“Then let me get this straight,” he says, “you think you might like me if you kiss me, so you shouldn't kiss me in case you do like me.” He nods before he adds: “Which is bad why exactly?”

“Because,” you say, your voice sounding a little lighter, “you're not interested in that. And I will be, ‘cause I'm an emotional mess right now and because you're you.” And because I’ve been thinking about you that way for a long time, a voice inside you says.

Dean thinks for a moment, before a soft smile starts spreading on his lips again. It surprises you, even though you’re happy he doesn’t seem hurt by your words.

“I’m not looking for a hook-up,” he says.

“Right, okay,” you reply with a small laugh, “I get that. You’re saying whatever you would call a night with that woman in the pink dress would be more of an experience than a hook-up.” To your surprise Dean doesn't look like he has any idea what you talking about.

“What woman?” he asks and for a second you think he’s joking, but then you see he’s not.

“In the pink…” you start, then tilt your head. “I’m confused.”

“You’re confused?” Dean asks, giving you an unbelieving look. “Well, join the club.” Your mouth drops open, closes, before you find the words you want to say.

“Are you…” you start, then stop. Dean couldn’t possibly mean…

“I kissed you,” Dean interrupts your train of thought, and you look at him, into those green eyes, “because I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a while now.” Your eyes widen.

“You have?” you ask. Okay. You assumed if Dean was trying to hook up with you tonight it would be out of boredom, maybe annoyance that he might otherwise go home on his own. But he’s saying the exact opposite.

“Yeah,” Dean says, now seeming to become a little nervous. Still, he pushes forward. “But you were dating that asshole, and then you broke up, and you were sad, and that didn’t feel like the right time.” He takes a deep breath, looks at you inquiringly, sees you listening, so he continues.

“And then you asked that stuff about whether you seem unavailable,” he continues, “and I thought… I thought you were trying to give me a hint. Like, make me get a move on.”

“Huh,” you say and Dean makes a grimace that seems to say he agrees.

“Yeah,” he replies, and then you’re both quiet for a moment.

“Well, I wasn’t trying to hint at you,” you say, shrugging. “But I still think you should kiss me again.”

Dean looks disappointed for a second, and then his face lights up. It’s the best thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t need to ask him twice.

He closes the distance between you two and you sling your arms around his shoulders, one hand going to cup his cheek while he pulls you in. And there’s that electricity, that feeling like you stuck your fingers into an outlet, tickling all over your body, only it’s a million times stronger, because it’s Dean you’re kissing.

You want to feel more of him, all of his good, nice, warm presence and Dean seems to think the same, because he pushes you backwards, until your back meets the wall next to the door that leads outside. You grin against him at his eagerness and in response he presses himself against you.

Soon his hands go to your hair, fingertips running into it, then back to your hips, your waist, your lower back, like he’s trying to take in all of you. You don’t mind. You’re busy doing the exact same thing.

When the door suddenly is pulled open, it startles both of you. Your faces break apart, but your bodies stay closely pressed against each other, and you both look to the door.

It’s Sam and Cas. They’re both wearing suits and when they realize what they just walked in on, Sam raises his eyebrows while Castiel actually looks away, like he’s trying to pretend he didn’t see anything.

“There you are,” Dean says, and you realize he sounds a little breathless. “We were waiting for you, where were you?” You look at Dean, but at this absolute lie you look to Sam,try to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he says, shaking his head unbelieving.

“What are you doing here?” you quickly ask before the two of them can fall into their usual bickering.

“We didn’t hear back from you,” Sam says, “and there was a call to the police we caught over the scanner. Something about two people faking their identities.” Sam gives both you and Dean a meaningful look.

“We thought we should make sure you two were alright,” Castiel says now, shooting a careful look at you and Dean. “We told them we were FBI and confiscated the cane.” Now it’s your turn to be dumbfounded.

“Wait,” you say, “you can… was that a possibility this whole time?” Sam pulls up his shoulders.

“I suggested that at the beginning,” he says, then raises his head to gesticulate at Dean. “He said there was no way it would work. That we would have to go in undercover.”

You turn your head to Dean just in time to see him shake his head at Sam, like he’s trying to shut his younger brother up. The scheming bastard. Dean looks back at you just as a delighted smile spreads over your face. Dean sees it, and after a second of surprise, one builds on his face too. He turns back to his brother and the angel.

“So you’re saying you got the artifact,” he clarifies, “and everything’s taken care of?” Castiel nods.

“Yes, it’s in the car already,” he confirms. “Both the cane and the metal amphibian.”

“So there’s nothing we really need to be doing now?” Dean asks, and you wonder where the hell he is going with this.

“Well, we need to get it to Crowley,” Sam says, “but that’s—”

“Sounds like something you two can take care of,” Dean says, and then he gives a placating smile before he leans over, reaches for the door knob. Sam and Castiel have to step back a little bit when Dean starts pulling closed the door, but they are apparently so surprised that they don't question it.

“Sounds like you don’t need us,” Dean says and he turns back to you before the door falls shut with a click. “Where were we?”

You can’t help but laugh, but that doesn’t stop Dean from diving in, pressing his lips against yours and bringing you as close to him as possible.

[authorhjk1]

[JUX-794] Mischievous teacher Kang Seulgi, after school gangbang! Lots of cream pies!

(Kang Seulgi X Male Students feat. TripleS Kotone)

The first snow of December falls steadily outside the frosted windows, quieting the world in a blanket of white. The heater hums faintly in the corner, but it’s losing its battle against the cold. Students shuffle into the room slowly, hands buried in their jacket pockets, faces flushed from the biting air. The class feels sleepy and subdued. Except for the back row.

Kang Seulgi enters with her usual composure, the click of her brown heels sharp against the silence. She sets a neat stack of books on the desk, brushing a strand of her orange hair behind her ear before peeling off her coat. Beneath it, she’s dressed with deliberate precision: a silky brown blouse that clings just enough and tight brown leather shorts that cut high on her smooth, bare thighs.

The contrast is striking. Warm layers on everyone else, while she stands there as though immune to the cold. Her round glasses frame her sharp gaze as she finally looks up.

“Good morning."

Seulgi says softly, her voice cutting through the muted hush.

“We’re continuing with evolution today. Open your books to page 54.”

The students comply, the sound of pages turning filling the room. But the boys in the back; Jaehyun, Minho, Jiho, Hyunwoo, and Seungmin; sit still and quiet, their jackets loose, ties undone. Their books remain closed, pens idle. They’ve made no effort to look interested, but Seulgi doesn’t acknowledge them.

She turns her back to the class and begins writing in large, fluid letters on the whiteboard: Natural Selection. Adaptation. Competition.

“In biology,"

She talks, evenly underlining the word Adaptation.

“natural selection determines who thrives and who doesn’t. It isn’t always the strongest who survive. It’s those who know how to adapt.”

Her voice is calm, almost melodic, but the rhythm of her movements is deliberate. She stretches slightly to underline a point, her blouse dipping faintly at the back. The motion feels natural, unremarkable to most. But she knows the back row is watching. She finishes writing and caps the marker with a snap.

“Now, let’s start with a quick recap.”

The minutes tick by slowly as Seulgi explains the core principles of evolution. The heater hums louder, groaning as though in complaint, but the room remains cold. Some students yawn quietly, their pens moving lazily over their notebooks.

Seulgi leans back against the edge of her desk, resting one hand beside her as she crosses her legs slowly at the knee. The motion is smooth, deliberate, and reveals the full length of her bare, toned thighs. The leather of her shorts catches the soft light filtering through the window, dark and sleek against her skin.

Her other hand adjusts the glasses on her nose as she continues.

“The environment decides which traits are an advantage. For instance, animals in cold climates adapt by growing thicker coats or conserving energy.”

A pause.

“In this case,"

She adds, her tone soft but edged.

“you could say survival is about knowing how to endure... or how to stand out.”

The words seem to settle heavily in the air. From the back, Jaehyun shifts faintly in his seat, dragging a boot noisily against the floor before stopping. Minho runs his fingers absently through his hair, though his gaze hasn’t moved from the front of the room. Hyunwoo’s pen is still, the cap flicked on and off in slow rhythm.

Seulgi knows what she's been doing to them for the last couple weeks. But she doesn't even grant the five of them a glance. She focuses instead on a stack of papers, as if oblivious to the tension.

Halfway through the lesson, Seulgi moves to the board again. She uncaps the marker, poised to add another word to her now pretty large collection of keywords: Selection.

The marker slips suddenly from her fingers, tumbling noisily to the floor.

“Oh."

She murmurs softly, pretending to be surprised.

Without hesitation, she bends at the waist to retrieve it. The movement is deliberate yet measured. Her blouse stretching faintly as she leans forward, the hem of her dark leather shorts lifting just enough to reveal the perfect shape of her bare thighs. For a second, just a second, there’s a faint glimpse of lace peeking above the line of her shorts. Black lace. That seems to hug her thighs perfectly underneath her shorts. The shape of her perfect ass makes the experience even more rewarding.

The silence that follows is deafening.

From the back, someone’s chair creaks faintly. Jaehyun sits perfectly still, his eyes fixed firmly on the edge of his desk. Minho stares straight ahead, though the faintest movement in his jaw betrays him. Jiho’s fingers pause mid-tap on his notebook, the rhythm forgotten.

Seulgi straightens slowly, marker in hand, and brushes a strand of hair over her shoulder. Her face remains perfectly neutral, as though nothing happened at all.

“Let’s continue."

She says smoothly, turning back to the board.

Toward the end of class, the lesson turns to competition as a key driver of natural selection.

“Competition isn’t always obvious."

Seulgi explains, sitting on the edge of her desk once again. This time, her posture is looser, more relaxed. One heel dangling lazily from her foot as her legs cross. The motion draws subtle attention to the clean line of her thighs, their smoothness standing out in stark contrast to the winter cold everyone else seems to be hiding from. She taps a finger lightly against the edge of the desk, as though in thought.

“Sometimes, survival depends on subtle advantages. A trait that sets one apart from the rest, even if no one notices it at first.”

She allows the words to hang for a moment, brushing her fingers idly along the hem of her blouse. She only barely moves her collar a little to the side. Just the slightest hint of her tits reveal the lack of a bra.

“Nature rewards the clever, the resilient, and those who can endure.”

From the back row, Jaehyun’s pencil rolls off his desk. He doesn’t pick it up right away. Hyunwoo exhales through his nose, sitting back with an expression carefully blank. Minho slouches lower in his chair, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he looks out the window.

After an otherwise uneventful rest of the class, the shrill ring of the bell cuts through the stillness, breaking the calm atmosphere in an instant. Students jolt upright, snapping their books shut and packing up quickly. Seulgi uncrosses her legs slowly, sliding off the edge of her desk as she gathers her papers.

“Read pages 54 to 60 for homework. We’ll continue on Monday.”

The class empties slowly, students trudging toward the door. The back row lingers longer, as always. Jaehyun is the last to stand, slinging his bag over one shoulder and pausing just long enough to glance back at the desk. His expression gives nothing away.

When the door finally clicks shut, Seulgi exhales softly. She sets her papers neatly in a folder and picks up the red marker, turning it over in her fingers with a faint smile. They're close to breaking already.

The lunch bell echoes through the school, signaling a rare pocket of freedom for the students. The once-quiet halls turn chaotic as voices bounce off the walls, lockers slam shut, and footsteps patter quickly toward the cafeteria. The winter wind howls faintly outside, making the warmth of the building feel like a reluctant escape from the cold.

In the middle of it all, Seulgi walks with slow, deliberate steps.

Her outfit today is different from last week. Still professional but tailored to perfection. She wears a crisp, white blouse with the sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A slim black pinstripe vest hugs her torso, cinched with small silver buckles at her sides. Her short pleated skirt, just daring enough, grazes the tops of her bare thighs, leaving smooth skin visible with every stride. A loose black tie drapes over her blouse, and her tall black boots add a confident edge to the look. Her hair is sleek and straight today, cascading past her shoulders like liquid ink. The glasses perched on her nose frame her face, lending her the illusion of untouchable composure.

The sound of her boots clicks with every step as she makes her way toward the teacher's restroom, moving through the chaos with unbothered grace.

Near the far end of the hallway, the same five boys hang around the lockers like they own the place. Their jackets hang open over their uniforms, ties barely in place, looking perfectly disheveled in a way that only makes them stand out more.

As Seulgi rounds the corner, the sound of her heels cuts through the din of students moving past.

“Shit. There she is again."

Minho mutters under his breath, nudging Jaehyun with his elbow.

Jaehyun tilts his head back against the lockers, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as his eyes follow Seulgi.

“She’s been looking good lately.”

“Looking good?”

Jiho scoffs, his gaze shamelessly trailing up her legs. The short skirt shows off just enough to hint at her plump cheeks.

"That girl has cake.”

He feels Minho's elbow in his ribs a second later.

Hyunwoo snorts, biting back a laugh.

“No wonder she wears skirts like that. She knows what she’s doing.”

Seungmin shakes his head faintly, though his expression mirrors theirs.

“Teachers aren’t supposed to look like that, man.”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, finally dragging his eyes away as Seulgi disappears down the hall.

“Doesn’t seem like she cares what’s ‘supposed to’ happen.”

Their laughter blends into the noise of the hallway, but Seulgi doesn’t acknowledge them. She doesn’t turn her head, doesn’t falter in her stride. She hears them though. She always hears them.

And maybe that’s part of why she does it.

The teacher's restroom is quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of the hallway outside. The heavy door clicks shut behind her, sealing Seulgi into stillness. She exhales softly, setting her bag down on the sink as she steps toward the mirror.

The reflection staring back at her is calculated: the perfect balance between sharp professionalism and something far less innocent. The white blouse clings perfectly under the vest, the short skirt flaring just enough to draw attention to the smooth, bare skin of her thighs. Her tie hangs loosely over her chest, like a deliberate afterthought, while her straight hair frames her face in soft contrast to the sharpness of her outfit.

Seulgi’s fingers brush the hem of her skirt lightly, smoothing the fabric down as she studies herself.

“That girl has cake.”

The words echo faintly in her mind. She should be disgusted. She should be offended. But instead, her lips curve into the faintest, most secretive of smiles.

She doesn’t understand why she feels this way. Why the thrill of being noticed has started to creep under her skin like an addiction. It’s not the boys themselves. She knows what kind of attention they’re giving her. It’s rude, thoughtless, the kind of thing she would’ve shut down immediately if they said it to her face.

And yet...

Her fingers tighten faintly against the edge of the sink as she leans forward, letting her gaze drift over her reflection.

It’s the power she likes. The quiet control.

Outside, the world sees a perfect teacher. A young professional with sharp glasses and flawless composure. But here, now, with the door shut and the mirror reflecting every inch of her body, she can admit the truth: she enjoys the attention. She enjoys being seen.

What’s wrong with me?

She doesn’t have an answer.

When Seulgi leaves the bathroom, the hallway has quieted. Most students have already gathered in the cafeteria, leaving only a handful lingering by their lockers or walking toward the stairs.

The boys are gone, though their presence still feels like a shadow in the back of her mind. Seulgi adjusts her tie, brushing it against the edge of her blouse as she walks. The sound of her boots echoes faintly in the empty corridor.

She tells herself it doesn’t matter.

They’re just kids. Troublemakers.

But as she steps into the faculty lounge, greeted by the hum of conversation between colleagues, the secret thrill still lingers under her skin.

Let them look. Let them talk.

Her expression remains neutral, calm, untouchable.

No one would ever know.

The classroom hums with faint energy, though no one is talking. Outside, snow continues to fall in quiet sheets, blurring the window panes with thin streaks of white. The heater groans in the corner, the weak warmth unable to compete with the sharp winter chill seeping through the walls.

Seulgi stands in front of the whiteboard, her marker gliding across its surface in smooth, deliberate strokes. The words Evolutionary Strategies are written in clean, confident lettering, underlined twice with a sharp flick of her wrist. She’s wearing a burgundy fitted dress today, cinched perfectly at the waist to show off her shape. The short hem sits daringly high on her thighs, her legs bare and smooth beneath the fluorescent lights. Her lace-up black heels climb elegantly up to her knees, the ribbons hugging her skin like intricate vines. Combined with the soft, sheer sleeves of her dress and her perfectly straightened hair, Seulgi looks like something out of place in the winter-drab classroom. More like a model in a magazine than a teacher lecturing on biology.

She caps the marker with a soft snap, turning back to face the room. Her gaze sweeps over the students, who sit slumped at their desks. Most look half-asleep, their notebooks open but empty. The back row remain sprawled casually in their seats, arms folded, their books closed like accessories instead of tools for learning.

“For the next part of today’s class,"

She begins, leaning back lightly against the edge of her desk.

“I want you to work individually.”

She pauses, letting the faint murmur of discontent die before continuing.

“Turn to page 67 in your textbooks."

Seulgi crosses her arms loosely over her chest. The action draws subtle attention to the curve of her waist, though she doesn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“I want you to summarize three key strategies that species use to survive: mimicry, camouflage, and dominance.”

The faint groans of protest begin to rise, but Seulgi taps the cap of the marker against the edge of the desk. An unspoken signal to get moving.

“You have fifteen minutes. Use your time wisely.”

As pages start flipping and pens begin scratching across notebooks, Seulgi pushes herself off the desk and begins walking between the rows. Her heels click faintly against the floor with each step, the sound soft yet deliberate. Her gaze moves over the students, her expression calm but observant as she scans their work. Most of them avoid her eyes, their focus on their textbooks, but the back row is different.

The five boys haven’t opened their books.

Seulgi stops behind Seungmin’s desk first. His posture is as lazy as ever, arms folded tightly over his chest as he stares blankly at the textbook he hasn’t touched.

“Seungmin."

She says quietly, leaning just slightly over his shoulder.

“You’re not even pretending to work today.”

Her voice is light, teasing almost, but the proximity of her presence makes him shift slightly in his seat. Her hand grazes the back of his chair as she steps closer, her fingers brushing the cool metal.

“I’d start writing. Unless you want to stay behind after class.”

Seungmin clears his throat faintly, finally picking up his pen as she steps away.

Next, Seulgi moves toward Jaehyun’s desk. He’s leaning back casually in his chair, arms draped loosely over the backrest, his expression blank but his eyes sharp as they flick toward her. His textbook is open, but the pages are untouched.

Seulgi pauses beside him, her heels coming to a quiet stop.

“You look very focused, Jaehyun."

She says, her tone neutral but edged with faint amusement.

Without waiting for a response, she leans over slightly to glance at his desk, one hand resting lightly on the edge for balance. Her posture is calm, unbothered. But her proximity doesn’t go unnoticed.

Her hand shifts, and for the briefest second, her fingertips brush against Jaehyun’s shoulder as she straightens. The touch is featherlight, gone almost as soon as it happens, but Jaehyun freezes. His lazy slouch interrupted as he tenses faintly.

“Keep it up."

Seulgi murmurs softly, as though offering praise.

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. His eyes linger on the hem of her dress for half a second before darting back to his desk, his hand moving to his pen as though trying to regain his focus.

Seulgi’s heels click softly as she walks away.

Minho is next. He’s slouched deep in his seat, his long legs stretched lazily under the desk. His pen twirls between his fingers, though he hasn’t written a word.

Seulgi stops beside him, tilting her head faintly. “Is that worksheet just for decoration, Minho?”

Minho looks up, his gaze flicking lazily to her.

“I’m still thinking."

He mutters, though the faint grin on his lips suggests otherwise.

Seulgi raises an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward so her fingers rest on the edge of his desk. Her hair falls softly over her shoulder, close enough for Minho to notice the faint scent of her perfume. Light, clean, and distinctly feminine.

“Well, don’t take too long. Time’s running out.”

Her voice is calm, but as she straightens, she lets her gaze linger for just a moment. Her expression unreadable, her posture poised.

Minho stares back, his casual grin faltering just slightly as his hand fumbles with the pen.

The sharp ring of the bell cuts through the quiet. Students jerk upright, grabbing their books and bags with hurried movements.

“Finish what you didn’t complete at home."

Seulgi calls as they begin filing out.

“I’ll be collecting it next time.”

The back row lingers as always. Jaehyun is the last to stand, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves toward the door. His gaze flicks toward the desk where Seulgi still sits, though he says nothing as he walks past.

When the room finally empties, the faintest smile is tugging at her lips as she leans back on her hands. She tilts her head back slightly, staring up at the ceiling as she exhales a slow, measured breath. The tension she’s been holding begins to unravel, piece by piece.

Her gaze lowers toward the rows of empty desks, lingering on the seats at the back of the room. Jaehyun. Minho. Jiho. Hyunwoo. Seungmin. Their presence lingers even now, like shadows etched into the fabric of the space. She can still feel the weight of their eyes on her. The stolen glances, the way they’d shifted under her touch.

What are you doing?

The question rises again, unbidden and sharp, but Seulgi shoves it down. She straightens her posture, sliding off the desk slowly. Her heels hit the floor with a soft click, grounding her. The sound feels louder now in the empty room, almost deafening.

She paces toward the whiteboard and begins wiping it clean, her movements slow and methodical. The words she wrote earlier: Mimicry, Camouflage, Dominance, disappear under her hand, as though erasing the evidence of the hour that just passed. And yet, she can’t erase the way her heart still beats just a little too fast.

Seulgi pauses midway through cleaning the board, her hand resting loosely against the marker tray. Her reflection stares back at her faintly from the glass window of the board. Unruffled, poised, perfectly composed. But behind the carefully crafted exterior, there’s something else.

A spark of something dangerous.

Seulgi swallows hard, her fingers tightening faintly around the eraser. She’s not stupid. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Walking that invisible line, teasing just enough to make them look. To make them react. She feels it every time she leans too close, every time her fingers brush against a desk or a shoulder. The thrill hums beneath her skin like a current she can’t shut off.

It isn’t about the boys. It never was.

It’s about the power.

That quiet, intoxicating control she has over the room. Over them.

But what scares her most is how much she enjoys it.

Seulgi turns away from the board and walks toward the window, the tall glass panes fogged faintly at the edges from the cold outside. Her heels echo softly across the floor, every step precise and deliberate. She stops in front of the window, her arms crossing loosely over her chest as she gazes out at the snow-covered courtyard below.

Her reflection stares back at her, sharper now in the cold light. The burgundy dress clings to her figure, the rich fabric catching the dull glow from the overcast sky. The ribbons of her lace-up heels crisscross like ink against her bare skin, accentuating every curve of her calves.

For a brief moment, she wonders what she looks like through their eyes.

Is she still their teacher? The composed, untouchable figure standing at the front of the room? Or is she something else entirely?

Her lips press into a thin line, her breath fogging faintly against the glass.

Why does it feel so good to be seen?

Seulgi doesn’t have an answer. All she knows is that it’s a feeling she can’t shake. The same feeling that leaves her lingering in the empty classroom long after the bell has rung.

She raises a hand absently, brushing her hair back over her shoulder as she leans her forehead lightly against the cold window.

After a moment, Seulgi turns back toward the room. Her gaze drifts toward the back row of desks, where Jaehyun had been sitting just minutes earlier. The desk is empty now, the chair pushed back slightly as though he’d left in a hurry.

She steps towards it slowly, the sound of her heels muffled against the tiled floor. She doesn’t know why she’s walking there. She tells herself she’s simply tidying up, ensuring everything is in its place.

But when she stops in front of Jaehyun’s desk, she hesitates.

Her fingertips trail faintly along the edge of the desk as though testing something invisible.

A sharp knock at the door startles her, and Seulgi pulls her hand back quickly, her heart leaping in her chest. The door creaks open, and one of her colleagues, Mr. Kim from the science department, peeks inside.

“Seulgi-ssi? You’re still here?”

She clears her throat softly, forcing a calm smile onto her face as she turns to face him.

“Just wrapping up."

Mr. Kim nods, glancing once at the empty desks before pulling the door fully open.

“Don’t stay too long. It’s freezing out there.”

“I won’t."

As the door closes again, sealing her back into the empty room, Seulgi exhales. The faint smile fades from her lips as she adjusts the hem of her dress absentmindedly, smoothing it down before turning back toward the front of the room.

She gathers her books and her bag, her movements mechanical as she stacks everything neatly on the desk. But as she prepares to leave, she pauses, glancing once more at the back row of seats.

The thrill still lingers under her skin, warm and unsettling. Seulgi shakes her head faintly, forcing herself to move toward the door.

It’s nothing, she tells herself. Just a game.

But as she steps out into the empty hallway, the echo of her heels against the floor sounds louder than before, as though the classroom hasn’t let her go just yet.

The bell rings, loud and sharp, breaking through the tension that has been lingering in the air for the past hour.

Seulgi sets down her marker and steps back from the whiteboard, brushing faint dust from her yellow plaid blazer. Her skirt, just short enough to skim her thighs, shifts as she walks toward her desk. She doesn’t miss the way the back row lingers. How Jaehyun leans back in his chair lazily, his sharp eyes flicking up from his notebook to follow her movements. How Minho mutters something under his breath to Jiho, earning a faint smirk.

She can feel it. The way their gazes have changed. It’s heavier now. Deliberate. Not the usual distracted glances or harmless stares.

It makes the room feel smaller somehow, the air more stifling.

“Make sure to finish your notes."

Seulgi says, her voice even but faintly clipped as she gathers her papers.

"We’ll review them tomorrow.”

Chairs scrape against the floor as students rise and shuffle toward the door, but the back row takes their time. Jaehyun is the last to move, pushing his chair back slowly, his gaze lingering just a moment too long as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“See you next time, Miss Kang."

Seulgi pretends not to notice the flicker of amusement in his voice, the faint smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. She watches as the five of them finally saunter out of the room, their voices low as they talk amongst themselves.

She exhales softly once the door clicks shut, the tension dissolving into the quiet. But the feeling doesn’t leave her.

What’s gotten into them?

The five of them crowd into an empty corner near the vending machines during the break, their voices low but animated.

“That outfit though."

Jiho mutters with a grin, shaking his head as he cracks open a can of soda.

“See through? She knows what she’s doing.”

“It’s not just the clothes."

Minho replies, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“She’s been teasing us for weeks. You think she doesn’t notice the way we look at her?”

Jaehyun tilts his head, his sharp gaze narrowing thoughtfully.

“Maybe she does. Or maybe she’s just playing around, seeing how far she can push us.”

Hyunwoo finally speaks up, his voice quiet but firm.

"She doesn’t take us seriously. We’re just kids to her.”

The group falls silent for a beat, the words settling uncomfortably.

Jiho scoffs, kicking lightly at the base of the vending machine.

"Well, she’s wrong. We’re not kids.”

“We should let her know that."

Jaehyun says evenly, pushing off the wall with a faint smirk.

“If she’s going to tease us, maybe it’s time we tease her back.”

Seungmin raises an eyebrow.

“And how exactly are we going to do that?”

Jaehyun shrugs, his expression unreadable. “You’ll see. Let’s see how she handles it when the roles are reversed.”

The next class is about to start, and the hallway is a flurry of movement. Students hurrying to their lockers, friends laughing as they weave through the crowd. The noise is chaotic, echoing off the linoleum floors and concrete walls.

Seulgi steps out of the staff room, clutching her binder against her chest as she navigates the crowd. Her heels click softly against the tile, her yellow plaid skirt and blazer standing out like a burst of color against the sea of navy uniforms. Beneath the blazer, her sheer black top hints at the faint curve of her chest, the pattern subtle yet noticeable when it catches the light.

She walks with her usual confidence, though the events of the last class still cling to her mind.

They’re acting differently.

As Seulgi rounds the corner, she almost collides with someone.

“Careful, Miss Kang.”

Jaehyun’s voice cuts through the hallway noise. He’s standing just ahead with the rest of the boys. Minho leaning casually against the lockers, Jiho with his hands shoved into his pockets, Hyunwoo and Seungmin flanking Jaehyun on either side.

The five of them seem to take up more space than they should, their postures loose but deliberate, their gazes fixed on her in a way that makes Seulgi pause.

“Excuse me."

She says smoothly, stepping aside to move past them.

But Jaehyun shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing hers as she passes. It’s subtle, barely enough to notice, but deliberate all the same.

“Heading to the next class?”

Minho asks, his voice low but edged with something faintly mocking.

“Or were you looking for us?”

Seulgi stops mid-step, turning just slightly to face them.

"Watch your tone."

She says quietly, though the calm edge in her voice feels thinner than usual.

Jiho grins.

“Relax, Miss Kang. We’re just saying hello.”

Seulgi narrows her gaze, straightening her posture.

“Then say it properly.”

Hyunwoo chuckles under his breath, earning a glance from Minho, who tilts his head.

“Sure. Hello, Miss Kang. You look... nice today.”

There’s something in the way he says it, casual, almost playful, that makes Seulgi’s breath hitch. For the first time, she feels like they’re seeing her differently. Like they aren’t backing down.

“Thank you."

Her fingers tighten slightly around her binder.

The boys exchange glances, faint smirks playing across their lips. Jaehyun takes one step closer. Not enough to invade her space, but enough to make her notice.

“See you around."

He says softly, his eyes holding hers for a second longer than necessary before he turns to walk away.

One by one, the others follow, their presence lingering even after they disappear into the next corridor.

Seulgi watches them go, her pulse thrumming in her ears. She doesn’t move immediately, standing frozen in the emptying hallway as the noise fades into background static.

What just happened?

They’ve never spoken to her like that before. Never looked at her like that before.

The balance feels like it’s shifting, and for the first time, Seulgi doesn’t know how to respond.

The sound of pens scratching across paper fills the classroom, punctuated by the occasional shuffle of notebooks and the faint hum of the heater. Outside, the snow has slowed, leaving the school grounds dusted in white.

Seulgi sits at her desk at the front of the room, her hands folded neatly over a stack of papers she’s been pretending to review for the past ten minutes. Her gaze drifts occasionally toward the whiteboard, where the topic of today’s biology lesson "Ecosystem Relationships" is written in her neat handwriting.

The students are working on a group assignment, their voices low as they discuss food chains and predator-prey dynamics. Normally, this would be her favorite part of the day, watching her students engage with the material she loves, feeling the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

But today, her mind is elsewhere.

She can still feel the way they’d looked at her in the hallway earlier. The quiet confidence in their voices, the deliberate way they’d blocked her path without outright disrespecting her. Minho’s low comment, “You look nice today” echoes faintly in her ears, making her shift uncomfortably in her chair.

It’s not the words that unsettled her. It’s the way they’d said them. The way they’d looked at her.

Seulgi exhales softly, her fingers tightening around the edge of the desk. She tells herself it’s nothing. That they’re just boys being boys, testing boundaries the way teenagers always do.

But deep down, she knows it’s more than that.

They’re not backing down anymore.

Seulgi stands, smoothing the hem of her yellow plaid blazer as she walks toward the middle of the room. The students quiet slightly as she approaches, their heads bent over their worksheets.

“How’s it going?"

She asks a pair of girls near the front. Her voice is calm, composed, the perfect balance of authority and approachability.

“Good, we’re almost done.”

Seulgi nods, offering a faint smile before moving to the next group. She forces herself to focus on the present, pushing the earlier encounter to the back of her mind. But no matter how much she tries, the unease lingers, a faint, persistent hum under her skin.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of the period, Seulgi dismisses the class with her usual calm professionalism. But as the students file out, she can’t shake the tension that’s been building since the morning.

Later that afternoon, Seulgi sits across from the vice principal in the quiet staff room. The heater hums faintly in the corner, the warmth doing little to ease the tension in her chest.

“We need someone to oversee detention for the rest of December."

Seulgi blinks, caught off guard.

“Detention?”

“Yes."

He replies, sliding a clipboard toward her.

“Friday afternoons. It won’t take much time, just supervising a few students who need… extra guidance.”

She hesitates for a moment, her mind flickering back to the five boys from earlier. But she quickly shakes the thought away.

“Sure."

Seilgi offers a polite smile as she picks up the pen. “I can handle it.”

“Great."

The vice principal stands up as she signs her name.

“I’ll send you the list of students later today.”

The sun hangs low in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the snow-dusted grounds. Seulgi steps outside into the biting winter air, her heels crunching softly against the icy pavement as she makes her way toward the parking lot.

She’s exhausted. More from the weight of her thoughts than the day’s workload. The encounter in the hallway earlier still lingers in her mind, mingling uneasily with the memory of their stares during class.

As she nears her car, the faint sound of laughter catches her attention. She turns instinctively, her eyes drawn toward the football court at the edge of the school grounds.

They’re there.

Jaehyun leans casually against the goalpost, his posture relaxed but deliberate. Minho and Jiho are tossing a football back and forth, their movements lazy and unhurried, while Hyunwoo and Seungmin sit on the bleachers, their voices low as they chat.

Seulgi pauses, her breath catching faintly. She should keep walking, pretend she hasn’t noticed them. But her feet hesitate, her body caught between the familiar thrill of their attention and the quiet unease that has been growing all day.

It’s Jaehyun who notices her first. He straightens slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto hers across the distance. A faint smile tugs at his lips. Not mocking, but knowing.

“Miss Kang!”

Jiho calls, waving her over.

“Taking the long way home?”

Seulgi forces a smile, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag as she steps closer. “Shouldn’t you all be heading home?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

Minho counters, his tone light but edged with something faintly playful.

She narrows her eyes slightly, though the faint warmth rising in her chest betrays her.

“I could say the same to you.”

Hyunwoo chuckles softly from the bleachers.

“It’s more fun out here.”

“Yeah."

Seungmin adds, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never stayed late to enjoy the quiet.”

Seulgi hesitates, the words catching her off guard.

“That’s not the point.”

Minho tosses the football once more to Jiho before stepping closer, his hands tucked loosely into his pockets.

“Relax, Miss Kang. We’re not causing trouble.”

Jaehyun pushes off the goalpost, his gaze steady as he approaches.

“It’s nice to see you outside the classroom for once."

“Is it?”

Seulgi raises an eyebrow.

Jaehyun nods, his faint smirk deepening.

"You look different out here.”

The words make her breath hitch faintly, though she quickly hides it behind a polite smile.

“I’m the same person, Jaehyun. You’re just imagining things.”

“Maybe."

His tone is unreadable.

The others chuckle softly, their laughter blending into the cold air as Seulgi adjusts her bag and takes a step back.

“You should all head home."

She says firmly, though her voice feels thinner than usual.

“We will. After you.”

Jiho grins at her.

Seulgi doesn’t respond. She turns and walks toward her car, her pulse thrumming under her skin as their voices fade behind her. But as she reaches the driver’s seat, she glances back over her shoulder.

They’re still there, watching her.

And for the first time, Seulgi wonders if she’s the one being teased.

The lunchroom hums with casual chatter and the faint clatter of cutlery against plates. Kang Seulgi sits at a long table near the window, her black off-shoulder dress a striking contrast against the muted winter light streaming in. The fabric hugs her curves just enough to be flattering but not inappropriate, and the gold buttons glint softly under the fluorescent lighting.

She picks at her salad absentmindedly, half-listening to the conversation around her. A few of her colleagues are discussing an upcoming school event, their voices pleasant but not enough to hold her attention. Her mind keeps drifting. To the way the boys had looked at her yesterday. To the way they talked with her, that still echoes faintly in her ears.

It’s not like her to get distracted. But there’s something about the way they’ve started acting lately. More deliberate, more... aware.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a burst of laughter from the hallway just outside the lunchroom. She glances up instinctively, her fork pausing mid-air as the sound grows louder.

And then she sees them.

The five of them walk past the open door in a loose, confident group, their voices carrying easily into the room. Jaehyun is in the lead, his broad shoulders squared and his sharp profile catching the light. Minho walks beside him, gesturing animatedly with his hands, while Jiho trails just behind, grinning at something Hyunwoo has said. Seungmin brings up the rear, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they flick toward the lunchroom for a brief second.

“She’s so hot."

Jiho mutters, loud enough for Seulgi to hear.

“Those legs."

Minho adds, his voice laced with admiration. “Seriously, who wears a dress like that to school?”

Jaehyun chuckles softly.

“Maybe she knows exactly what she’s doing.”

The words send a jolt through Seulgi’s chest. Her first instinct is to brush it off as harmless banter, the kind of talk teenage boys engage in without thinking. But something about their tone, the quiet confidence, the deliberate volume, makes her pause.

She sets her fork down carefully, her gaze following them as they disappear around the corner.

Her thoughts twist uncomfortably. For the first time, she doesn’t just think about their words or their looks. She thinks about them.

The way Jaehyun’s shoulders fill out his uniform blazer. The faint definition of Minho’s forearms when he rolls up his sleeves. How Hyunwoo’s quiet confidence seems to anchor the group, or the way Jiho’s smirk carries just enough charm to disarm anyone. Even Seungmin, the quietest of them, moves with an ease that feels deliberate.

They’re taller than her. All of them. Broader, stronger. It’s not something she’s ever let herself notice before.

But now that she’s thinking about it, she can’t stop.

It happens later that afternoon, just as the final bell rings. Seulgi is walking toward the staff room when she catches the faint scent of cigarette smoke drifting through the open hallway window.

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she follows the smell toward the back of the building. The small, secluded courtyard is barely used during school hours, and it doesn’t take long for her to spot the culprits.

There they are, huddled in a loose circle near the fence. Jiho is holding a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily into the cold air, while Minho leans against the fence with his hands in his pockets.

Seulgi feels a surge of irritation, though she isn’t sure if it’s because of their blatant disregard for school rules or the faint thrill she feels at catching them in the act.

“Seriously?"

She steps into the courtyard. Her voice cuts through the air like a whip, and all five heads snap toward her.

Minho straightens immediately, his hand going to the back of his neck as he glances at Jaehyun, who doesn’t move. Jiho, ever the bold one, smirks faintly and stubs out the cigarette against the ground.

“Miss Kang."

Jaehyun says smoothly, his tone calm but edged with faint amusement.

"Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly."

She replies, crossing her arms. Her gaze sweeps over them, her voice firm.

“Smoking on school grounds is against the rules. You know that.”

Hyunwoo shrugs, his posture unbothered.

“It’s just one cigarette.”

“One is enough."

She snaps, her frustration flaring.

“Detention. Three weeks. Every Friday after school.”

Jiho whistles low under his breath, but Minho elbows him sharply before he can say anything.

“Understood."

Jaehyun's tone is unreadable.

“Good."

Seulgi turns on her heel. But as she walks away, she can feel their eyes on her back, heavy and deliberate. Although, it's not really her back they are staring at, is it? She can almost sense how they're lifting the hem of her dress in their heads. How they're imagining what she's hiding underneath.

The first detention session begins later that afternoon. The classroom is cold and quiet, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the rows of desks. Seulgi sits at the teacher’s desk, her legs crossed as she reviews papers, doing her best to ignore the faint tension that hums in the air.

There are a few other students in the room. Three girls from another class and two boys from the football team. They’re seated at the front, diligently working on their assignments.

But it’s the boys in the back that have her attention.

Jaehyun, Minho, Jiho, Hyunwoo, and Seungmin are spread out across the last two rows, their postures relaxed but their gazes anything but. Seulgi doesn’t look at them directly, but she can feel it. Their eyes. Their focus. It isn’t like before. They aren’t just looking.

They’re observing.

Testing.

She shifts slightly in her seat, adjusting the hem of her dress as she pretends to focus on her work. But every movement feels amplified under their scrutiny, every click of her pen or shuffle of paper resonating louder than it should.

When the clock finally ticks past five, Seulgi stands and dismisses the group with a curt nod. The other students leave quickly, eager to escape the monotony of detention.

But the five of them take their time.

Jaehyun is the last to leave, his hand lingering on the doorframe as he turns back to glance at her. “See you next week, Miss Kang."

He says softly, his voice low enough that it feels like a promise.

Seulgi exhales slowly once the door clicks shut. She sinks into her chair, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk as she stares at the empty room.

For the first time, doubt creeps in.

You’ve teased them too much.

She knows it now. Knows that this isn’t just harmless fun anymore. They’ve crossed some invisible line, and she can feel the boundary between them beginning to blur.

And the scariest part is that she doesn’t know if she wants to stop it.

The bottle of red wine sits open on the coffee table, its deep, ruby liquid glinting faintly under the warm light of the living room. Seulgi is curled up on her couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she stares at the glass in her hand. The rich scent of the wine mingles with the faint chill in the air, but it does little to ease the knot in her chest.

She takes a slow sip, the warmth spreading down her throat and settling heavily in her stomach. Normally, this is her favorite way to unwind. A quiet evening at home, soft music playing in the background, a glass of something indulgent in her hand.

But tonight, the quiet feels oppressive. Her mind won’t stop racing.

The events of the day replay over and over again. Their voices in the hallway, the way they’d looked at her during detention, Jaehyun’s soft “See you next week” that had lingered in the air like smoke.

Seulgi presses her lips together, swirling the wine in her glass as she leans back against the cushions. For weeks now, she’d told herself it was harmless. The teasing, the outfits, the occasional comment that danced dangerously close to the line. It was all just a game.

But now, sitting alone in the dim light of her apartment, she knows it’s more than that.

They’ve crossed the line.

And so has she.

Seulgi closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the couch as the memories come rushing in.

The first time she’d worn something a little too tight to class, just to see if they’d notice. The way Jaehyun’s gaze had lingered a second too long, or how Jiho had muttered something under his breath that made Minho smirk.

The deliberate way she’d dropped her pen that day, bending over just enough to feel their eyes on her. The thrill that had sparked under her skin, the quiet satisfaction of knowing she could command their attention without saying a word.

She’d told herself it was nothing. That she was in control.

But today, in that cold detention room, she hadn’t felt in control at all.

What happens now?

Seulgi takes another sip of wine, her thoughts spiraling as she stares into the dark liquid. She knows she could stop this, could pull back, enforce stricter boundaries, shut down any future interactions before they cross into dangerous territory.

But deep down, she wonders if it’s already too late.

And the scariest part is the question she can’t bring herself to answer: What if I don’t want to stop?

Her fingers tighten around the stem of the glass as she thinks about them. How confident they’ve become, how deliberate their words and actions feel now.

How far would they take it if I let them?

The thought sends a shiver down her spine, and she can’t tell if it’s fear or something else entirely.

Meanwhile, in a house on the other side of town, Jiho lounges on his bed, his laptop balanced precariously on his knees. The glow of the screen casts sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

His cursor his hovering over the actress's picture. His favorite. She's already appeared in so many videos, he'd never be able to watch all of them.

As he unbuttons his pants, he clicks on her name underneath the picture.

Kamimoto Kotone

Scrolling through her videos, Jiho takes out his cock. He doesn't have anything specific in mind. And yet, the cursor comes to a hold over a video he has watched a couple of times already. The thumbnail alone makes him rock hard. He clicks on it, closes the annoying pop up ads, skips forward until he can be sure there is on annoying build up and then leans back.

Perfect timing.

Kotone is kneeling on the floor, her black top and short skirt from the thumbnail already missing. She's holding a cock in each hand, stroking them, while someone else is fucking her face.

The theme is obvious. School. Teacher. Students. Gangbang.

Once the guy inside her mouth can't hold it in anymore, he pulls out and cums all over Kotone's face. Her glasses are covered in his cum, some of it hit her cheeks and mouth as well. She makes a show out of licking her lips, while staring into the camera.

With his left hand, Jiho skips ahead a little.

Now Kotone is getting fucked by someone in a locker room. She's bent over the bench while one guy fucks her from behind and another shoves his cock into her mouth. Her muffled moans echo through the room as the guys pick up the pace. Her hair is all messed up, spit is falling out of her mouth. Kotone ruins the bench underneath her when the guy inside her pussy makes her squirt. Her juices ruin the wooden bench and the floor underneath it, leaving her a shaking mess. It doesn't stop her two students from using her. Soon, both of them groan and Kotone freezes as they both thrust as deep into her as possible and unload at the same time.

Jiho skips ahead again. Already feeling his orgasm building. Seeing Kotone act like a slutty teacher is turning him on more than ever before.

Now, Kotone gets fucked by two guys at once. They're bouncing her on their cocks. One in her ass, one in her pussy. Her cries for more echo through the classroom. Around them are standing even more students. All of them naked from the waist down, ready to have a go at her as well.

After the two guys cream pie both of her holes, another guy lies on the floor, making Kotone straddle and ride him. Three other guys step forward, shoving their cocks into her face. Kotone does her best to give them all equal attention, while bouncing on her other student's dick.

Jiho groans as his orgasm is only seconds away.

He watches how the scene is coming to and end. The ten guys that were using Kotone are now standing in a circle around her. She does her best to make them all cum. It doesn't take long. Soon, Kotone gets hit with one load after another. Cum starts to coat her whole face. Glasses, forehead, hair, cheeks, nose, lips, her open mouth. She takes it all with pride.

Jiho leans back against the headboard, exhausted. His dumb smirk widening faintly as he imagines another face in place of the Kotone's.

Miss Kang.

The thought sends a flicker of heat through him, and he can’t help but replay the events of the day in his still numb mind. The way she’d caught them smoking, her voice sharp but faltering slightly at the edges. The faint flush in her cheeks during detention, the way her eyes had darted toward them even when she tried to pretend she wasn’t looking.

“She likes it."

He mutters under his breath, his voice low and amused.

"She’s been teasing us for weeks. No way she’s not into it.”

He watches the video transitioning to the next scene. Kotone is teaching a class and everything seems normal. But there's that one student in the back. A remote control in his hand. Kotone starts to react to what probably is a vibrator. Her voice becomes higher as she talks. She rubs her thighs together right in front of the class. Moans start to escape her mouth.

A knock at the door startles him, and Jiho quickly slams the laptop shut and covers himself with his sheets, his heart pounding as his younger brother pokes his head inside.

“Dinner’s ready."

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute."

As the door closes, Jiho exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. The movie might have been a fantasy, but the thought of Miss Kang feels far more real.

The vibrator at the end gave him and idea. An idea, none of the boys will hate. An idea which will make Miss Kang act like a Japanese porn star.

Seulgi sets her empty glass on the table, the wine leaving a faint warmth in her cheeks. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she stares at the darkened window.

She knows they won’t stop. Not now.

And the truth is, she doesn’t want them to.

But as the weight of her actions settles heavily on her shoulders, another thought begins to take shape, a quiet, nagging fear that whispers in the back of her mind.

What happens when they want more than just a game?

The Winter Festival is in full swing, the usual hum of the school replaced by bursts of laughter, applause from the gym, and the faint buzz of conversation that drifts through the hallways. Parents stroll through the classrooms, admiring student projects, while clusters of students hang out near the vending machines and auditorium.

Seulgi moves quietly through the chaos, her black off-shoulder dress a striking silhouette against the pale winter light streaming through the windows. She had thrown it on in a rush that morning, her mind still hazy from the wine she’d indulged in the night before.

Now, as she glances at her reflection in the glass display case by the art room, she feels a pang of unease. The dress had seemed appropriate yesterday. Daring but still professional. But today, with the same outfit, she feels like an unspoken secret is written all over her.

They’re going to notice.

She takes a steadying breath, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she makes her way toward the science wing.

Near the far end of the hallway, where the crowd thins, leaving only the faint echo of distant voices, Seulgi pauses just outside an empty classroom, drawn by the familiar sound of low laughter and murmured conversation.

Inside, the boys’ voices are clear enough to stop her in her tracks.

“So, we’re really doing this?”

Jiho asks, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and anticipation.

“Of course we are."

Minho replies, leaning against a desk.

“You’ve seen the way she looks at us. She’s practically begging for it.”

Hyunwoo chuckles softly.

“Think she’d actually let us?”

“She will. It’s just a matter of time.”

Seulgi feels her breath catch, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She shouldn’t be listening, she knows that. But her feet stay rooted to the floor as their words continue.

“What about the stuff we talked about?”

Jiho asks, his voice lowering slightly.

“We can use the pins from my place.”

Minho says casually.

“Already took two yesterday. And that thing you asked for, Jiho, it should arrive by tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Anything else?”

Jaehyun asks, a smile on his face.

“Working on it."

Jiho adds with a smirk in his voice.

“Thought we’d keep it simple at first. She’s got to ease into it, right?”

"Right."

Minho agrees.

"This won't be a one time thing."

Laughter ripples through the room, quiet and restrained but heavy with meaning.

Seulgi’s cheeks flush, a wave of heat rushing to her face as she realizes exactly what they’re talking about. Her mind races, a chaotic mix of indignation, disbelief, and something darker, something she refuses to name.

She should step in, say something, confront them. But her body betrays her, frozen in place as their words continue to echo in her ears.

The hallway near the vending machines is quieter now, the distant hum of the festival fading into the background. Seulgi stands in front of the machine, her arms wrapped around herself as she debates whether to grab a drink.

Despite the heat inside the building, she feels cold.

It’s not just the winter air, it’s mainly something else entirely. The weight of their conversation lingers in her mind, the deliberate confidence in their voices, the casual way they’d spoken about her as though their plans were already set in motion.

Her fingers tighten slightly around her arms, her body tense as she tries to shake off the feeling. But the sound of footsteps makes her pause.

They’re here.

Jaehyun is the first to appear, his blazer unbuttoned, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. Minho and Jiho follow close behind, their postures loose and unbothered, while Hyunwoo and Seungmin linger at the back, their quiet presence filling the space with an unspoken tension.

“Miss Kang."

Jaehyun says, his voice smooth as he stops a few steps away.

She forces a smile, her arms still wrapped around herself as she replies.

“Enjoying the festival?”

“Not really our thing."

Minho says with a faint smirk.

“But you seem to be having fun.”

“You look... comfortable."

Jiho adds, his gaze flicking briefly to her dress.

“Same outfit as yesterday?”

The comment lands harder than she expects, a faint flush creeping up her neck as she straightens her posture.

“I was in a rush this morning. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Looks good."

Jaehyun says, his tone low but clear.

“Better the second time.”

The words send a faint shiver down her spine, though she quickly hides it behind a calm expression.

“You seem cold."

Hyunwoo says suddenly, his voice quiet but firm.

Before she can respond, Minho steps forward, pulling off his blazer in one smooth motion. He drapes it over her shoulders, his hands brushing lightly against her bare skin as he adjusts the fabric.

The touch is slow. Too slow. His fingers linger just long enough to send a ripple of warmth through her body, his presence behind her impossibly close.

“There."

He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Better?”

Seulgi swallows hard, her breath catching as she steps away, her fingers brushing against the lapels of the blazer.

“Thank you."

She says stiffly, her voice tight.

Minho steps back, his faint smirk mirrored by the others as they exchange glances. But none of them say anything more.

“See you around, Miss Kang."

Jaehyun's tone is dangerously calm as he turns to leave.

The others follow, their footsteps fading down the hallway until all that’s left is the quiet hum of the vending machine.

Seulgi exhales slowly, her hands tightening around the edges of the blazer. For the first time, she feels like the ground beneath her is slipping.

They’re not just playing anymore.

And deep down, she wonders if she ever had control to begin with.

The biology classroom feels colder than usual. Seulgi stands at the front, her brown silk blouse and matching leather shorts perfectly tailored, but offering little comfort against the quiet chill that has settled over the room.

It’s not just the temperature. It’s them.

For the entire week, Jaehyun, Minho, Jiho, Hyunwoo, and Seungmin have been a shadow of themselves. They’ve sat in the back row as always, their postures relaxed, their expressions unreadable. But the glances, the teasing smirks, the quiet confidence that once left her unsteady - they’re gone.

Seulgi’s voice carries through the room as she explains the day’s lesson on genetic inheritance, but her mind drifts, her focus splintering with every passing moment. She catches herself glancing toward the back row, searching for something, anything, but they don’t even look up.

At first, she’d felt relieved.

The weight of their attention had always been intense, pressing down on her in ways she couldn’t fully explain. She told herself this silence was a blessing, a return to normalcy.

But as the week dragged on, the relief turned into something else.

Now, standing at the front of the room, her hands lightly gripping the edge of her desk, all she can feel is disappointment.

Why aren’t they looking at me?

The thought rises unbidden, and she immediately tries to push it away. But it clings stubbornly to the edges of her mind, a quiet ache that she can’t seem to shake.

Her gaze flicks to Jaehyun for a brief moment. He’s leaning back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his notebook as though she isn’t even there. Minho, sitting beside him, rests his chin on his hand, his expression neutral.

You wanted this, she tells herself, gripping the edge of the desk tighter. You wanted them to stop.

But deep down, she knows it isn’t true.

Her thoughts drift to last week. To the vending machine, to Minho’s quiet comment about her dress and the way he’d draped his blazer over her shoulders.

Her fingers move almost instinctively, brushing lightly against her shoulders,which are covered by the silk, as the memory unfolds in her mind.

He’d stood so close, his hands lingering just a second too long, the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin. It had been fleeting, barely enough to register. And yet, the thought of it now sends a faint shiver through her body, her skin prickling with the memory of his fingers.

Seulgi’s hand drops quickly, her cheeks flushing as she forces herself to focus on the lesson. But her thoughts betray her, spiraling into dangerous territory.

What would it feel like if it wasn’t just him?

The question twists in her mind, unspoken but heavy. Her imagination betrays her, conjuring images of their hands - strong, confident, deliberate - brushing against her skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

She shakes her head slightly, trying to dispel the thought, but the faint tingle it leaves behind lingers stubbornly.

The bell rings, snapping her out of her thoughts. Seulgi straightens, her professional mask slipping back into place as she watches the students file out of the room.

“Leave your worksheets on your desks. I’ll collect them after class.”

The chatter fades as the last student leaves, the room falling into a quiet stillness. Seulgi exhales softly, walking between the rows of desks to collect the papers.

She starts with the back row, her eyes flicking briefly to Jaehyun’s neat handwriting as she picks up his worksheet. She lingers for a moment, her fingers brushing against the edge of the desk before moving to the next.

The classroom feels emptier than usual, the silence pressing down on her as she makes her way back to the front. But as she approaches her desk, something catches her eye.

A small box sits neatly on the corner of her desk, its metallic gold wrapping paper shimmering faintly under the fluorescent lights.

Seulgi freezes, her heart skipping a beat as she stares at it. Her fingers hover hesitantly over the ribbon, her pulse quickening as she glances toward the door. The hallway is empty, the faint sound of students laughing and talking in the distance the only sign of life.

Her hands tremble slightly as she unties the bow, the soft whisper of the ribbon echoing in the quiet room. She lifts the lid carefully, her breath catching as she takes in the contents.

Nestled in a bed of tissue paper is a set of black lace lingerie, delicate and intricate, the fabric soft against her fingertips. Beside it, a small, sleek vibrator glints faintly, its design both subtle and unmistakable. But what sends her pulse racing is the folded piece of paper tucked beneath it all.

Her fingers fumble slightly as she unfolds the note, her eyes scanning the words written in neat, confident handwriting:

“I hope you enjoy yourself during detention today.”

Seulgi’s breath hitches, her chest tightening as she rereads the note. Her thoughts spiral in a chaotic mix of disbelief, indignation, and something darker, something primal. Something she shouldn't be feeling.

She knows who left this. She knows.

But the thought of confronting them, of walking into detention later that day with this knowledge, sends a shiver through her body that she can’t ignore.

For a long moment, she just stands there, her hands gripping the edges of the box as the weight of the situation settles over her.

She should feel angry. Outraged. But all she feels is the faint hum of adrenaline coursing through her veins, her body tingling with a nervous energy she can’t shake.

As much as she tries to deny it, the thought of them, their deliberate confidence, their quiet boldness, sends a thrill through her that leaves her breathless.

Seulgi closes the box carefully, her movements deliberate as she ties the ribbon back into place. She picks it up, cradling it against her chest as she steps toward the door.

Her heels click softly against the floor as she walks down the hallway, the weight of the small box a constant reminder of what’s waiting for her later.

How far will they take this?

The question lingers in her mind, heavy and unanswerable, as she disappears into the crowd.

The teacher’s bathroom is quiet, the muffled hum of the school day fading into the background as Seulgi locks the door behind her. The latch clicks into place, the sound sharp and final in the otherwise silent space.

She leans against the door for a moment, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths as she stares at the small gold box in her hands. The wrapping paper is slightly crinkled from where she had gripped it too tightly earlier, but the red bow remains intact, its bright color a stark contrast against the polished white tiles of the bathroom.

Her reflection in the mirror catches her attention, and she steps forward, setting the box on the sink as she studies herself.

The blouse and shorts she’d worn all day fit her perfectly, the soft fabric hugging her curves in a way that feels both natural and deliberate. But now, as she looks at herself under the harsh fluorescent lights, she feels a flicker of doubt.

What are you doing?

Her fingers tighten around the edge of the sink as the question echoes in her mind. For weeks, she’d played this game, pushing boundaries, testing limits, both theirs and her own. She told herself it was harmless, just a bit of fun to break up the monotony of her days.

But it hasn’t felt harmless in a long time.

The note from earlier flashes in her mind:

“I hope you enjoy yourself during detention today.”

The boldness of it, the confidence, had sent a rush of heat through her chest that she couldn’t ignore. They weren’t just playing anymore. They were testing her, pushing her in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

And the scariest part is that she doesn’t want to stop them.

Seulgi’s hands tremble slightly as she opens the box again, her breath catching as the contents are revealed. The black lace lingerie glints softly under the light, its delicate fabric both alluring and intimidating. She brushes her fingers against the lace, the softness of it sending a shiver through her skin.

"This isn’t you."

She thinks, her reflection staring back at her with wide, uncertain eyes.

"You’re their teacher. You’re supposed to be in control."

But control is the last thing she feels right now.

For a long moment, Seulgi just stands there, her thoughts spinning in chaotic circles as she stares at the lingerie. She knows she could leave it in the box, walk into detention as if nothing has changed, and draw a firm line between them.

But another thought creeps in, quieter but no less powerful.

What if you don’t want to draw that line?

Her cheeks flush as the thought takes hold, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric. The memory of Minho’s touch rises unbidden in her mind. The way his hands had lingered on her shoulders, warm and deliberate. She imagines what it would feel like if the others touched her the same way, their hands exploring, testing, leaving trails of heat across her skin.

Her body tingles at the thought, a faint ache settling low in her stomach as she closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, her reflection looks different. Her uncertainty is still there, but beneath it is something else. Something curious, daring, almost reckless.

Slowly, she reaches for the lingerie, her hands steadying as she lifts it out of the box. The delicate lace feels cool against her palms, its intricate design both beautiful and suggestive.

Seulgi hesitates for a moment, glancing towards the locked door as if expecting someone to knock. But the hallway remains silent, the school almost empty save for the few students in detention.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to undress.

The brown blouse is the first to go, the soft fabric sliding over her head and leaving her upper body bare. She folds it carefully, setting it on the counter before she starts to wiggle out of her tight shorts. They fall to the floor in a soft heap, and she steps out of them, her bare legs feeling exposed under the bright lights.

Her plain white panties are the only thing that is covering parts of her body now. Seulgi hooks her fingers into the waistband and slowly pulls them down. Minho's touch suddenly reenters her mind. And as she steps out of her underwear, she can't help but imagine how it must feel like. How good it must feel to have that boys hand travel up her thigh, brushing against her folds...

Seulgi manages to snap out of it. She only has a couple of minutes, before the two hours of detention begin.

She reaches for the vibrator inside the box, but hesitates before picking it up. The sexy lingerie is one thing. But this toy is on a different level. The black lace would already break so many rules, so many boundaries. But the vibrator would make it even worse. If she took it, she'd give up herself. She'd basically offer herself to them. Not just crossing a line in terms of touching, but in terms of something purely sexual. Something that she won't be able to take back as soon as she accepts the complete gift.

Her fingers close around the vibrator. She feels an exciting tingle inside her core as she feels the smooth plastic surface.

Is she really going to give herself to them?

She glances at the note. She rereads it again, the confidence in their words still overpowering her. She can almost see their smug grins, their knowing smiles. Almost as if they always knew it would end like this. Even before she knew herself.

Seulgi sighs as pushes the small object against her folds, the string wrapped around a finger. She isn't completely aroused yet, but there is a certain wetness there. It makes it slightly easier to push the plastic inside of her. Seulgi's breath hitched as she feels it parting her walls. For some reason, she expects it to go off as soon as it's fully inside. But there's nothing. No vibration. Not yet. How would they know anyway?

After making sure the vibrator is in place and the string is there, Seulgi reaches for the black lingerie.

She lifts the lace top over her head, the fabric fitting snugly against her skin. The matching bottoms follow, the high-cut design accentuating the curves of her hips. When she looks at herself in the mirror again, her breath catches.

The lingerie transforms her. The delicate black lace clings to her body in all the right places, the soft fabric highlighting the lines of her figure while leaving just enough to the imagination.

For a moment, she doesn’t recognize herself.

Seulgi quickly puts her blouse and shorts back on, the familiar fabrics a stark contrast to the lingerie hidden beneath. But as she smooths out her blouse and adjusts the collar, she can’t shake the feeling that everything is different now.

She looks at her reflection one last time, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the sink. Her heart is racing, her body warm despite the faint chill in the air.

You’ve crossed the line, she thinks, picking up the now-empty box and tucking it into her bag.

But as she steps out of the bathroom and heads toward the detention room, she knows there’s no going back now.

Seulgi didn't dare to look at the five boys as she stepped into the room. The black lace seemed to cling onto her skin. She felt like it got warmer withe every step she took. But when she sat down behind her desk, she realized that they weren't even looking at her. None of them even glanced in her direction. They were all focused on their work.

Just like right now. One whole hour later.

Seulgi can the feel the frustration burning up inside of her. The invisible weight she felt before is now replaced with disappointment.

Did they get cold feet? Surely not. They're way too bold for that.

Did they lose interest? Seulgi shifts uncomfortably in her chair, slowly crossing her legs. Maybe.

She feels the vibrator slightly shift inside of her after her movements. She can't believe this. They are all ignoring her. All five of them.

By now, Seulgi's earlier worries and insecurity have already vanished. She can only feel anticipation and longing. Now that they're not doing it, she is desperate for it.

And she doesn't even notice that she keeps staring at the five of them. Jaehyun seems lost in his work, his pen not coming to a hold even once. Hyunwoo has leaned closer to Minho as if he is explaining something to him.

"No talking, Hyunwoo."

Those are the words that were supposed to leave her lips. But as Seulgi opens her mouth, she feels an unfamiliar vibration rush through her body. The sigh that leaves her lips instead is a mix of pleasure and relief. The vibrator starts to buzz inside of her, just quiet enough so the three girls in the front row can't hear it.

The lowest setting doesn't do much for Seulgi. But the fact that they didn't forget about her already sends a shiver up her spine. She's already aching for their undivided attention.

But when she looks at the five boys again, she realizes that they're still not looking at her. She can't even tell who the person with the remote is. By now, she's already missing the pressure she felt when they looked at her during class. How she could feel their eyes on her ass whenever she wore a tight dress. But now, as she does her best to keep calm, even with a vibrator inside her snatch, they don't even give her a glance.

Seulgi folds her hands on the table, her fingers intertwined as the vibrator takes it up a notch. Still not enough to make her moan, but it definitely relaxes her. She can feel the tension slowly leave her body. Although they're aren't looking at her, she knows they're still interested.

But as detention continues, Seulgi soon faces a new problem. After one of the boys added another level to the vibrator, she's now struggling to hold it in. Her hands, which were lying on the desk mere minutes ago, are now gripping the its edge. She doesn't dare to move otherwise, afraid that the stimulation might cause her to moan.

When the vibrations began, Seulgi started to relax, but as they ramp up, her body tenses again. The vibrator reaches another level and she is now holding onto her dignity. Jolts of pleasure rush through her body, her breath quickening. She's curling her toes, trying to release her arousal in a way that doesn't include moaning or a shaking body. Her breath hitches as she realizes that she's on the highest level. And that it's only a matter of minutes, until this level finishes her off.

Seulgi sits on her chair like a statue, her lips quivering as she does her best to hold it together. Another minute of intense vibrations passes, almost leaving her breathless. She keeps her eyes locked on the last row, still trying to determine which if the boys is holding onto the remote. But she can't see anything, there are no signs at all.

An accidental moan leaves her lips. A wave of panic washes through her. Seulgi couldn't live with herself if the 12 students in front of her heard her moan. She presses her lips together and glances at the clock on the wall. 50 more minutes. Will she be able to fight of the slowly building orgasm for that long?

She can already feel herself shifting in her chair. Her legs are rubbing together, just to have slightly more friction. Seulgi can tell she is close. Too close. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't stop it now. She couldn't walk out into the hall and she wouldn't be able to keep silent in here. While her arousal keeps rising, so does her panic. She is afraid that someone will find out what she's been doing these past weeks. She tries to stop herself from going any further. But as she is at the brink of her orgasm, Seulgi realizes something. And she's realizing it way too late.

She doesn't have control anymore. None at all. She doesn't have control over her own body, not even her emotions. By now, the five boys are in control. They can now do whatever they want. They could make her cum right now. In front of the other students. Or worse, not make her cum. They could leave her hanging. Right on the edge of her orgasm.

Seulgi's legs start to shake a little as the waves of pleasure rush through her. She knows it's only a matter of seconds now.

A gasp escapes Seulgi's lips as the vibrator suddenly falls silent. It's off. It's not doing anything anymore. Through the fog of her pre orgasmic state, Seulgi realizes what just happened. Only a couple of seconds longer and she would've climaxed on the spot. But now this uncontrolled heat rushes through her. This build up orgasm is trying to leave her body, but she is unable to let it go. The vibrator is her gate to pleasure and one of the boys just slammed it shut, right in front of her face.

Anger isn't the right word for it, but Seulgi feels something burn inside of her. Just a couple of seconds longer. It would've been a strong orgasm. Maybe because people would've watched her. But now, they denied her that. And she knows she can't just start playing with herself right here. She wishes she could, but she can't just stick her hand into her shorts and get herself off. But maybe the bathroom...

Just when she wonders if they would let her go or not, she feels the vibrations once more. It's the lowest setting, but it already makes her chest tremble. She can take it easily, but after one more minute, it reaches the next level.

Seulgi is just about to sink back into her chair as Minho suddenly raises his hands.

"Miss Kang, can you help me with this question please?"

He motions towards his worksheet.

Seulgi misses Jaehyun's knowing smile as she tries to stand up. Her legs are weaker than she thought they'd be. And the vibrating object inside of her doesn't make it any easier. With slow, shaky steps, she walks towards the back row.

She feels odd as she comes closer. The five of them must've noticed that she has the vibrator inside of her. It feels like Seulgi has submitted to them. She's basically at their mercy by now.

Standing behind Minho, she glances at all five of them, still trying to figure out who's controlling her. But she can't see a remote, or an open phone. Eventually, she leans down, trying to do her job as a teacher properly.

"What is your answer so far?"

She asks, after having read the question on the worksheet.

Minho shows it to her.

"Do you think I'm missing something? I listed the fish's teeth, predators and colours as part of their natural selection."

"If you..."

Seulgi's breath hitches when she feels a hand on her ass. She doesn't dare stand up straight. She knows it's no use. She can't tell who it is. And if she would look over her shoulder, the hand would already be gone. Instead, she closes her eyes. She can't believe she's letting this happen. She feels one of the boys letting his hand explore her butt.

"Miss Kang?"

Minho asks innocently as if unaware of what's going on.

"Well, if... if you look at the different fish's heads closer..."

She stops as she feels the hand on her ass squeezing one of her cheeks. It's not a gentle squeeze. It's hard and bold. As if the action is telling her, that she has no say about this at all. She doesn't stop it, she just reorganizes her thoughts, before speaking again.

"Some of them are shaped differently. So... So this could be a hint for what?"

As one of the boys keeps squeezing her ass, Seulgi suddenly feels the vibrator reach another level. It's only the second highest, but coupled with the hand on her butt, it feels way better than the first time. She barely notices how she is tightly gripping the edge of Minho's table.

"Is this about their speed?"

Minho still pretends like everything is normal.

"The one with the smaller and longer heads should be faster, right?"

"Ye...Yes. That's correct."

Seulgi lets out a quiet sigh, but Minho must've heard it.

"Thank you, Miss Kang. You're always so helpful."

She responds with another sigh as the vibrator reaches it's final level.

No. Not here.

It's the only thing on her mind. She tries to hold it together. Her thighs are rubbing against each other as she keeps leaning on his desk. The hand on her ass has disappeared by now and she'll never find out who it was.

It lasts only a couple of seconds and the level of the vibrator drops down again. It doesn't turn off, but it's at a lower level.

"Jesus."

Seulgi mumbles under her breath, trying to regain her composure. She wasn't as close to an orgasm, this time, but minute or two longer and she would've cum right there, standing behind them.

Accompanied by the low, steady buzzing inside of her, Seulgi slowly walks back towards her desk. She slides herself back onto the chair, instinctively crossing her legs. But only a moment later, she can feel how the vibrations inside her intensify. This time, it's not a slow build up. Within in a minute, she's reached the highest setting yet again. Seulgi has to bite her own fist to stop herself from moaning. The incoming orgasm feels stronger than the one before. She closes her eyes, knowing that, if she cums now, the whole room will hear her moan.

Instead, her upper body almost falls down onto the desk as the vibrations suddenly stop. She was almost there. So close. And now, her body starts at zero again.

Seulgi's mind start to get a little fuzzy. She looks at the five guys, hoping for only the slightest hint of a reaction. Her breath hitches when she sees Jiho bite his own fist, looking down as if he is concentrating on his work. But he suddenly looks up, shooting a wink at Seulgi's direction.

He saw her struggle. He saw her begging and trying to hide her orgasm at the same time.

A wave of shame hits Seulgi hard and she tries her best to keep her composure. But it isn't easy. Especially now that she knows that they're just acting. They're just teasing her. They know exactly what they're doing to her.

20 minutes. Seulgi had to endure 20 more minutes of this torture, until the bell finally rings for the last time this week. She can't even count how many orgasms the five of them ruined already. But Seulgi isn't seeing clearly anymore. Almost like a dream, she watches the other students pack their things and leave the room one by one. She's almost too far gone to say goodbye. She can almost feel her own mind break. This uncomfortable pleasure that is building up inside of her again and again makes her lose control. Her thighs have started to shake, she keeps on biting one of her pointer fingers, trying to stay quiet.

One of the boys has set the vibrations to a higher level now. Seulgi blushes in shame as she feels a soft trickle of her juices escape her shorts and slowly running down her thighs. She doesn't remember ever being this wet. She never squirted before and her previous partners usually had to use lube to not make the sex uncomfortable. But now, the lace panties feel like someone dropped a bucket of water on them.

Seulgi doesn't even realize that the five boys have stopped working and are just watching her. She's still wearing her glasses, but she can barely see. Her vision blurry as the vibrator reaches the second highest setting.

"Please..."

She manages to whisper, but her voice is too weak.

The guys stand up one by one and walk over to her. She soon feels a hand on her shoulder, then another on her thigh. Seulgi can't even look at them. Embarrassment and arousal clouding her vision. Her head rolls back, when the hand from her shoulder moves down to her chest. A squeeze is enough to make her moan. The hand on her thigh moves towards her core, brushing against her shorts in the process.

"Oh, my god!"

Seulgi moans when she feels even more hands on her. It feels so much better than she thought it would. They drive her towards the edge, towards the point of no return, and just keep her there. Their hands are not enough to free her body from this build up pleasure. If they'd only put on the highest level of the vibrator...

Eventually, someone seems to have mercy with her. Seulgi feels how the vibrations intensify. How her whole body reacts. Their touches and the vibrations send her over the edge in a matter of seconds. She loses her mind as she slowly glides off the chair. Her whole body is quivering and shaking as she reaches the floor. Her mouth is wide open, but not a single sound comes out of it.

When she comes back to her senses, Seulgi realizes the five boys are standing around her in a circle. She looks up at Jaehyun and watches with big eyes as he starts to take of his pants. One last time, some sort of hesitation builds up inside of her. For a moment, she thinks that she can still stop them. That she can still draw line right there.

But when his pants and underwear finally hit the floor, Seulgi has only eyes for one thing. She stares at his cock, which is just centimeters in front of her face.

"Why don't you have a taste, Miss Kang?"

She can hear his mocking tone, but in all honesty, Seulgi doesn't care anymore. The lack of attention from earlier made her crave it now. And there's no way she'd ever let them go.

She leans forward, her lips parting as she feels her students cock slide over her tongue and into her mouth. Seulgi hears the other guys work on their belts and hears their zippers opening as she takes more of Jaehyun's cock. She still can't believe she's doing this. Not with one of her students, but with five of them.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees two more dicks pointing at her. She reaches her hands out, her fingers slowly wrapping themselves around Seungmin's and Jiho's cocks. As Seulgi continues to suck on the dick in front of her, she starts to stroke the other guy's cocks, feeling them hardening inside her hands. Jaehyun seems to have already reached full hardness as a groan leaves his lips.

Seulgi makes sure she gets his cock as hard and as wet as possible, before she lets it escape her mouth with a loud pop. She slightly turns, wrapping her lips around Seungmin's cock. Her hand is now on Hyunwoo's dick and Jaehyun's wet one as well. As she starts to stroke them both, she can't help but glance at Hyunwoo. His cock already feels bigger than the other three she already tried. She didn't expect this from him, but the introverted boy has her drooling all over Seungmin's cock. The thought of him fucking her alone makes her wetter than before.

She bobs her head on Seungmin's cock a couple of times, anxious to finally have a taste of Hyunwoo's. When she does switch, she opens her mouth wide, welcoming his length. Her hands wrap around Seungmin and Minho. She closes her eyes, feeling how her mouth gets stretched out as she keeps taking more of him. Seulgi chokes as she tries to take all of it. A dumb smile plays around her lips when she feels him harden even more inside her mouth. She takes her sweet time with Hyunwoo's cock, making sure she coats every inch she can reach with her saliva.

Eventually, she feels an impatient Minho put his hand on the back of her head. She lets him guide her onto his own cock, her hands moving along as well. Her core starts to tingle in excitement as she wraps her fingers around Hyunwoo's drenched cock. Her other hand finds Jiho's cock, making sure she is making him fully hard.

Soon, she gets to him as well. Taking her time, she lets her tongue swirl around his tip whenever she pulls back, before taking most of his cock into her mouth.

"Damn, Miss Kang, I didn't think you'd be this good at sucking cock."

Jaehyun mocks her yet again as he watches her enjoy herself. But with a mouth full of cock, Seulgi can't answer.

Jiho reaches down and starts to undo the buttons of Seulgi's blouse. She feels excitement rush through her, slightly leaning into his touch. Another one of the boys puts his hand on her from the other side. The two of them soon pull the brown silk off her, leaving Seulgi in only the black lace top.

All their eyes are on her and Seulgi feels like she gets drunk on their attention. Shortly after she retreats from Jiho's cock, she wraps her lips around the cock nearest to her. She doesn't care who's it it as long as it's hard for her. Her thighs start quiver once more when the vibrator inside of her starts buzzing again. Two of their hands cup her breasts through the lace.

Seulgi's vision becomes blurry as the pleasure intensifies. She keeps moving around on her knees. One cock here, one cock there. She just takes whoever is closest to her at the moment. Her hands work two more cocks the entire time. She wants to make sure that no one gets left out.

Whenever she reaches Hyunwoo, she makes sure to make herself gag and choke on his cock. She is already in love with its length and girth, her pussy contracting around the vibrator whenever she just thinks of him fucking her.

As she sucks off Minho, Seulgi feels Jaehyun's hand on her ass, squeezing her cheeks through her shorts. The vibrations inside of her intensify as she moans around Minho's cock. Someone is pulling the straps of her bra off her shoulders, revealing her naked chest. As soon as the lace is gone, she feels two hands roaming her tits, playing with her mounds and slightly pinching her nipples.

"I love your cocks so much."

Seulgi can't help but moan when Seungmin forces her off Minho's cock, just so he can pull her head onto his own. She tightly wraps her lips around his length, greedily letting her tongue explore every inch. Seungmin groans in response, amazed by his teacher's cock sucking skills. He can't help but thrust forward, just so he can feel even more of her mouth.

Soon, Seulgi's blowbang has turned into a whole face fuck session. After Seungmin started to deliver a couple of thrusts into her mouth, Jaehyun took a fistful of her hair and forced his cock down her throat. Afterwards, the other boys took turns ruining her face, until Hyunwoo finally took a hold of Seulgi's head.

She's now staring up at his cock, in awe at how big and wet it is. She swallows hard, hoping he will go easy on her. At least at first. The vibrator inside of her basically urges her on to take him into her mouth. Her lips wrap around his shaft once more and her lips glide up and down her his length. Soon, he starts to thrust into her, making Seulgi's eyes roll to the back of her head. He forces her lips apart fully, saliva leaving her mouth in huge strings. They land on her bare tits, thighs and the floor making a mess of her whole body. She tries her best to take it all. To take is whole cock. But she struggles to fit all of it into her mouth. She can't quite reache the base, even while he thrusts into her again and again.

The vibrator keeps buzzing stronger and stronger as Hyunwoo fucks her face harder and harder. Seulgi feels like such a slut right now. Surrounded by five of her students, kneeling half naked on the floor. Their cocks all pointing at her while she's taking a thorough face fucking. She can't even bring herself two take care of two more with her hands. She has to put them on Hyunwoo's thighs to soften the blows a little. But it doesn't feel like it's helping much. Seulgi's jaw starts to hurt as the vibrator reaches the highest level. She shifts around on her knees, her mouth and throat getting stuffed again and again.

Seulgi finally cums for a second time today, almost passing out with Hyunwoo's dick in her mouth. She quivers and shakes on the floor as he slowly lets his cock leave her.

Seulgi gasps and coughs, strings of spit hanging from her chin.

"Let's get you up here."

Jiho and Jaehyun take a hold of Seulgi's shoulders and hips, while Minho pushes her books and her bag off the desk. They lift her up and put her down on the wooden surface. Her legs and her head are dangling off the edges. She feels Jaehyun open her shorts. The boys can already see her waisted lace panties, before her shorts are already gone. Jaehyun pulls them off of her and throws them behind him.

Seulgi can feel the blood rushing into her head and into her pussy. Soon, her panties are gone as well, revealing her glistening wet folds. Seungmin's mouth on Seulgi's tits make her arche her back a little and she stares up and Jiho, who's already standing in front of her face, his cock brushing against her lips. She opens her mouth, a silent invitation for him to use her mouth however he wants.

Seulgi feels someone's cock brush against her folds, making her squirm.

"What about the vibrator?"

Minho's question makes Seulgi's eyes grow wide. Surely they're going to take it out first, right?

"Fuck the vibrator."

Jaehyun says, before pushing his cock into Seulgi's pussy.

Jiho's dick almost falls out of her mouth as Seulgi cries out in pleasure. The vibrator and her student's cock turn her brain into a mess. She soon feels Seungmin's and Minho's mouths on her tits. Her hands hold onto the edge as she tries to keep some sort of sanity.

"Fuck, I didn't expect a teacher to have such a tight pussy."

Jaehyun's words make Seulgi even wetter, while he keeps thrusting into her snatch. She can feel his cock push the vibrator even deeper inside of her. It's position seems to send even stronger vibrations through her.

Seulgi opens her mouth to moan, when not just Jiho, but also Hyunwoo push their cocks past her lips. Suddenly the two of them are filling her mouth and she can barely breathe with so much cock inside of her. All five are using her at the same time. Hyunwoo and Jiho are fucking her upside down face, Seungmin and Minho suck on her tits and Jaehyun takes her pussy like he owns it. She feels his hands holding onto her thighs, while one of the boys on her tits lets a hand wander down her midriff, towards her pussy.

Seulgi can't even moan as the hand reaches her clit, her mouth is too full. She can only gag and choke. But the added sensation of someone rubbing her clit has her mind melting. All the attention, all the pleasure is way too much for Seulgi's body.

The two boys with their cocks in her mouth can basically see how her eyes break, how her mind simply shuts off. Seulgi drowns in a sea of pleasure and she might never make it to the surface. She feels her own spit running out of her mouth and slowly trailing down her face. She gets some of it into her eyes, some into her hair and the rest falls onto the floor beneath her. Her whole head is basically wet with saliva as the two boys keep fucking her face, both their cocks deep inside her mouth and throat.

A few minutes in and Seulgi has lost complete control over her body. She can't do anything against the pleasure they're making her feel. Her clit, her pussy, her tits, her mouth. It's all just too much. She is starting to have orgasms at random intervals, which are not triggered by one thing, but the overall experience. Seungmin and Minho take her hands and guide them towards their cocks. It takes her quite a while, until she's able to give them soft strokes. Her body doesn't listen to her anymore. Seulgi should be worried, but instead she's happy. The feeling of the five boys using, ruining, wrecking her body just surpasses anything she's ever felt before.

But suddenly, Seulgi's pleasure filled brain detects a flash of pain running through her system. One if the boy's mouths on her tits has been replaced with something else. A wooden clothespin. She arches her back off the desk in response, but the pain only seems to amplify her pleasure. Seulgi was never into anything related to pain. But as the second clothespin finds her other boob, she can't help but fall in love with it. Maybe it's just her mess of a brain that makes her think, or rather feel, like this. Either way, Seulgi's body experiences another wave of pleasure rushing through it's system as Seulgi climaxes once more.

"Fuck, Miss Kang. If you do that again, I'm gonna cum in your pussy."

Jaehyun's groaned words barely reach Seulgi's ears. But instead of being scared or worried, Seulgi can feel how her pussy instinctively tightens its walls around his cock.

"Your tits look amazing right now."

Seulgi can't tell who said that and she can't look at herself either. But the pins on her nipples keep increasing her pleasure in some twisted way. Her tits look slightly bigger, although that just might be an elusion.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum too."

Jiho groans as he feels his cock throbbing inside Seulgi's mouth.

But Seulgi is focused on Jaehyun's cock inside her pussy right now. She can feel him thrusting into her even harder, sometimes even hitting the vibrator that keeps on buzzing. His hands hold onto her thighs, his finger's digging into her flesh.

"Fuck!"

He shouts as he finally cums inside Seulgi.

She feels his cum filling her pussy, coating her walls and the vibrator with it. The warmth would make Seulgi smile, if it isn't for the two cocks that are still using her throat. Jaehyun leaves her pussy, but his cock is still hard. Seeing his teacher like this, taking his cum, enables him to go at least one more time. But it's Seungmin's turn now. Seulgi feels his cock rubbing against her folds, before he pushes into her cum filled pussy.

"So fucking wet."

He sighs, unable to keep quiet.

Seulgi feels pride swelling inside of her, but that just might be Jaehyun's cum, which is now getting pushed even deeper inside of her by Seungmin, who is fucking her just like Jaehyun did before him.

"Fuck, cuming!"

Jiho even surprises himself as he suddenly shoots his load down Seulgi's throat. She gags as if cum is filling her lungs. Hyunwoo can't help but groan as her throat massages his cock in the process.

Seulgi can't believe that two of her students just came inside of her. Her mouth and even her pussy. But how much it turns her on is even more worrying. She can almost feel how her body is already begging for more cum.

"Remember this?"

She can barely look up, her head pretty much fixed in place by Hyunwoo's huge cock, which is also blocking her sight. But she can see Jaehyun holding up a red marker. Her red marker. The read marker she used countless times to tease them. She let it drop, she even bit the cap once, or fixed it right between her cleavage after writing.

"Let's use this to keep count."

She watched how Jaehyun opens it and throws away the cap. The teacher inside of her wants to tell him to pick it up, but Hyunwoo's cock inside her only makes her gag a little.

"One cream pie..."

He almost seems to be talking to himself as he reaches for her left thigh. Seungmin stops for a moment, so Jaehyun can draw a line on Seulgi's thigh. He then moves the red marker closer to her face.

"And one throat pie."

Seulgi feels the marker on her throat. Another mark.

She sighs when she feels Hyunwoo's cock leaving her mouth. It feels so empty now, while Seungmin starts fucking her again. After Hyunwoo leaves her sight of view, Jiho appears. He is holding something, but she can't tell what it is. Until he places the ring in her mouth, forcing it wide open, and tying the band at the back of her head.

"Since you won't be doing much talking anyways. Might as well keep your mouth open for our cocks the whole time."

Seulgi can't answer, the big ring in her mouth making it impossible for her to speak. A moment later, she sees Minho stepping in front of her, pushing his hard cock past the ring and her lips. He quickly fills her mouth and once again, Seulgi gets spit roasted by two of her students.

But Jiho was right. Seulgi didn't need to speak while the five boys continued to fuck her. One of them was always inside her mouth and one in her pussy, while the other three made her jerk them off two at the time. Minutes were flying by and Seulgi felt like she had an orgasm during every single minute. When it was finally Hyunwoo's turn to fuck her, Seulgi was seriously worried if his cock was gonna fit. It'd be a shame to not be able to take it. But after some time, he finally managed to fuck her with most of his cock. And it felt way too good. She didn't need to talk to let them know how good. Her boy kept quivering and shaking, her eyes kept rolling to the back of her head, her tight walls kept squeezing their cocks.

"Fuck. This throat feels amazing."

Seulgi feels Seungmin's cock pulsating inside her mouth, right before he orgasms. He pulls out as he does so, most of his cum now running down her face. She feels it hitting her eyes, which are already red, thanks to her own spit.

"I bet her ass feels even better, once we stretch it out a little."

Seulgi is now paying attention. She never had anyone inside her ass before. To now have five boys, just waiting to put it in her butt, has her whole body tingling with worry and excitement.

"Why don't you get your knees, sexy?"

She shivers at their words, but she knows she won't be able to get up without help. Seulgi noticed how they stopped calling her Miss Kang. Not that it makes any difference now anyway.

Minho and Hyunwoo turn her onto her stomach and pull her legs towards her. Seulgi automatically gets on her knees, her head resting on her arms, which are lying on the desk.

She feels at least three hands roaming her ass and squeezing her cheeks. After a short while, someone places his tongue on her puckered whole, giving it slow swipes up and down. It already has her thighs shaking as Seulgi can only imagine how good it must feel like when a cock is inside her ass. When the tongue gets replaced with a bottle of lube, Seulgi shivers in excitement.

"Who wants to go first?"

Seulgi's cheeks turn pink. She's been fucked and used by these five boys for the last half hour and now she gets shy. They treat her like she's some sort of object. Just a set of holes to be used.

"Me."

Seulgi recognizes Jiho's voice. She braces herself as she feels his lubed up cock's tip resting against her hole. As he pushes it in, Seulgi's mind becomes all fuzzy. Her head suddenly feels too heavy. It just feels so good. She never expected it to feel this good. She never dared to try it. And now they are taking her ass like they own it.

"Damn she really is tight. So much better than her pussy."

Jiho's compliment makes Seulgi moan as he pushes deeper, until his hips meet her cheeks.

"That looks amazing."

That's Jaehyun.

"I can't just watch."

She hears him walk towards her head. When he appears, he lifts her head and pushes his cock through the ring into her mouth.

Just like before, Seulgi gets spit roasted again. But this time, they're using her ass, not her pussy. Her body gets rocked back and forth and now she feels a slight pull in her tits, whenever the clothespins brush over the desk's surface. Someone seems to run his hand along her back, taking in the smoothness of her skin. But all of that is insignificant, compared to the cock in her ass. It just makes her head spin with lust and arousal.

Unfortunately, only two of her holes are available in this position. That's why, after Jiho pulls out of her ass, the five of them lie Seulgi on her side, her ass slightly hanging over the edge. Jaehyun keeps fucking her mouth, one of her cheeks pressed against the wooden surface. Seungmin slowly pushes his cock into her ass, waiting until she got used to his cock. Hyunwoo is up next, ready to fuck her pussy again.

Seulgi feels like she loses her mind when the two cocks are buried inside both her holes. She never took two guys at once. Especially not someone as big as Hyunwoo. And now, the two of them seem to completely ruin her lower body as Hyunwoo lifts up one of Seulgi's legs and places her ankle on his shoulder. The screams she needs to let out get muffled by Jaehyun's cock down her throat. She feels Minho and Jiho guiding her hands to their cocks. She wants them to feel good too, she really does, but her body doesn't really work right now. It seems like she can barely do anything else on her own than just breath. She lazily strokes their dicks, while she's getting ruined by three more.

The walls between her pussy and her ass are so tight, the two boys inside both her holes can feel each other's cocks rubbing against each other. It makes them fuck her even faster, which drives Seulgi towards another orgasm. Her tight pussy can barely contract around Hyunwoo's huge cock as she cums.

After that orgasm washes through her, she feels slightly more focused. But she knows it won't last long. She barely notices how Jaehyun and Minho trade places. The later now sliding his cock in and out of her mouth at a steady pace, while Jaehyun relieves her of the clothespins one after the other. The pain that was there for so long is now gone, which makes Seulgi almost miss it. But even her mess of a brain knows that Jaehyun isn't doing this because he wants to stop the pain. He just has more stuff planned.

Moments later, Seulgi's hands are tied behind her back. Her chin is resting on the desk, until both the three boys inside of her pull out. It's the first time in a while that Seulgi isn't getting touched or fucked. She still feels the vibrator inside of her, but that's it. She is now feeling this unsettling emptiness. As if her body has gotten used to being filled completely. She can tell that her ass is now wide open, while her freshly fucked pussy must look like a mess.

Minho makes her lie on her back and pushes his cock inside her pussy once again. Jiho and Hyunwoo help her up and suddenly Seulgi is being carried, Minho's cock still inside of her. As they all step out of the classroom, Seulgi feels how she's slowly coming to her senses. But with every step Minho takes, her pussy slides up and down his cock, which still makes it hard to focus.

How is this gonna end?

Is her first and last proper thought. When they reach the cafeteria, Minho puts her down on one of the large tables. Jaehyun and Jiho disappear. While Seungmin takes the ring out of her mouth, Hyunwoo pushes Minho carefully out of the way.

"Sorry man. I've been holding it in the whole time. But I need to cum. Right now."

His words make Seulgi shiver, instinctively opening her legs a little further.

"A-Are you going to cum in me?"

Her voice sounds hoarse and rough.

All three of them ignore her.

And she's unable to ask another question, once Hyunwoo buries his cock deep inside her snatch. Deeper than before. So deep, he pushes the vibrator even further inside of her. She can feel it hit her cervix. Seulgi can't even worry about how she's going to get it out of her again, when Hyunwoo now properly starts to fuck her. The veins on his cock rub against her walls, which are almost stretched to the limit. She starts moaning immediately, loosing her mind yet again.

The only thing she can feel his Hyunwoo's cock, ruining her pussy as he uses her like a toy. Seungmin turns her head to the side. Kneeling on the bench at the table, he pushes his cock inside of her mouth. Minho focuses on her tits, sucking and licking them with occasional bite.

But soon, Hyunwoo has already reached his breaking point, just like said. He pushes his cock as deep as it can go inside Seulgi, before finally unloading inside of her. Her pussy quickly gets filled to the brim with his cum. She can feels its warmth rushing through her system.

When Jiho and Jaehyun return, Seungmin is having an orgasm as well. He dumps his load inside her mouth, making Seulgi taste it, before she swallows all of it.

Seulgi looks up at Jiho, who is holding a bottle of chocolate sauce. Before she can say anything, he pours all of it onto her body. Her tits, her midriff... All of it gets covered in the brown sauce. Then, Jaehyun puts the whipped cream he brought to her open mouth and fills her with pure sweetness.

And once again, the five boys start to use her body for their own pleasure. Minho and Jaehyun both put their cocks into Seulgi's whipped cream filled mouth. The mix of her body's warmth and the coldness of the cream makes it feel even better now. Jiho takes the whipped cream too and actually puts some of it right onto her folds. He pushes his cock inside her cum filled pussy, taking the whipped cream with him. Hyunwoo and Seungmin both lean over her and begin to lick her whole torso clean.

Seulgi quivers and shakes under all the sensations, which are all happening at the same time. The two boys that are using her mouth make it hard for her to breathe. She feels Hyunwoo's lips circling her tits, while Seungmin licks the chocolate sauce off her toned midriff. And Jiho uses her pussy whoever he wants, going slow or fast, hard or shallow, not caring what Seulgi herself would like.

It is all way too much for her. Once more, her brain turns off. Her body only responds to their will, while they share all of her holes.

"Oh, fuck."

Jaehyun groans after filling Seulgi's pussy with his cum again.

"How is she still so tight after we've cream pied her this often already?"

He adds another mark on her thigh. That's six.

While Minho uses Seulgi's throat, Hyunwoo starts to coat his cock with a thick layer of lube. The whipped cream and the chocolate sauce are completely gone already. But that doesn't make her holes any less addictive. Minho climaxes, shooting his load deep down Seulgi's throat.

Her eyes grow wide, when she feels Hyunwoo's cock against her add.

"Wait, you're too big. Way too big. I can't-"

She lets out a cry when Hyunwoo pushes his tip past the ring of muscles. He immediately makes her brain go numb with pleasure. His cock keeps on stretching out her ass, until he is around halfway inside of her. Seulgi breaths heavily, trying to get accustomed to having her ass filled to this extend. She knows she won't be able to sit for days.

Hyunwoo pulls slowly out of her ass and the pushes back inside. He starts to establish a rhythm, his cock ruining Seulgi's ass. The pleasure makes her go cross-eyed, her tongue slips out of her half open mouth.

The other four guys watch how Hyunwoo makes her fall apart in the middle of the cafeteria. Just hours ago, hundreds of students sat in this room. Now, the six of them are alone.

Eventually, Seungmin can't take it anymore. He took a break earlier, while the other four used Seulgi's body however they liked. But he's been jerking off since then. And seeing Seulgi fall apart right now makes him walk up to her. Just a second too late. He climaxes just when he reaches her face. His cum hits her eyes, her nose, her cheeks and her tongue, making a mess of her already ruined face.

"I can't watch anymore."

Jaehyun walks up to her too. He and Hyunwoo pick Seulgi up and carry her. Jaehyun lines up his cock with her pussy, before he and Hyunwoo slowly pull her down.

"Oh, god! It's so much!"

Seulgi cries, both her ass and her pussy completely full with cock. The two of them make her slide up and down on their cocks.

"I want some of that pussy too."

Jiho walks up to the three of them.

"Wait, I-"

He doesn't wait. Jaehyun and Hyunwoo stop for a second, enabling Jiho to push his cock into Seulgi's already filled pussy. The three of them completely melt her brain. The biggest inside her ass and tow inside her pussy. She's being split open and she can't believe she's still alive. She can't believe her body is able to take all of this. And she can't believe how good this feels.

"Let's fill her up completely."

Seungmin nudges Minho and the two of them climb onto the table Seulgi lied on mere minutes ago. They're all at the perfect hight. As they push their cocks past her lips, Seulgi realizes that all five of them are inside of her. She doesn't know how it's possible. But five or her students are sharing all three of her holes.

At this point, Seulgi doesn't even have orgasms one after another. She feels like she's trapped inside one huge orgasm. Her body can't keep up. She can't calm down. Wave after wave of pure pleasure washes through her body. Her pussy contracts around both cocks inside her. The world around her becomes distant. Her vision gets blurry. Eventually, her brain is unable to comprehend what's going on. The pleasure inside of her completely takes over. She doesn't feel anything else. She can't even moan. It takes too much energy for to be in a constant state of orgasm.

Seulgi realizes she must've past out. She opens her eyes. She's lying on top of a desk, the five boys are standing around her. She can't see the marks on her throat, but the ones on her thigh tell her that at least three of them cream pied her, after she lost her senses. She feels how someone's cum slowly leaks out of her gaping ass. Her whole body feels sore, used, broken.

Barely able to move her head, Seulgi looks around the room.

"No, wait."

Panic rises inside of her. But her voice is barely above a whisper.

"This is...This is...the principal's..."

She can't finish her sentence.

Once again, one of the boys shoves his cock into her mouth. Soon after, she feels the rest of her holes getting stuffed. While they use her again, her juices and sweat and their cum mix and start to stain the principal's desk. The five boys don't care and Seulgi can't stop them. Her eyes are only half open as he manages to glance at the clock, which is hanging on the wall. But she can't read it. It's as if she forgot how to tell time. The cocks inside of her seem to turn her into some brainless slut.

What Seulgi doesn't know is, that two hours have already passed, since the last bell of the day rang. It's 6:30 pm already. And the five boys don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

After using Seulgi as cum dump once again, they move her to the teacher's lounge. They can't help themselves, but have to fuck her right on the new teacher's desk. The new teacher is a cute, young woman, who teaches gym class. Jaehyun uses the jump rope, which was lying on her desk, to tie Seulgi's tits together in a painful way. First the clothespins, now this. Seulgi feels her tits being painfully squeezed by the rope, which will probably leave red marks by the end of the day.

Instead of going back to the classroom, they make Seulgi kneel right in the middle of the hallway afterwards. Just like the beginning, they form a circle around her and use her mouth one at a time. Her whole body is quickly covered in a thick layer of juices, sweat, saliva and cum. Everyone could walk into the school and see her like this. It's not like they're hiding in a classroom or something. But they're making her blow them all right here, in the hallway.

Eventually, the five of them do take Seulgi back to the classroom they had detention in. She can barely think on her own at this point. They have to tell her everything she has to do. After all of them use all her holes once again, they form a circle around her.

Jaehyun frees her of the jump rope. The red marks around her tits are clearly visible. Jiho puts the wooden clothespins back on her nipples, barely making Seulgi flinch. It's almost as if she's immune to anything but pleasure right now. And while she's just kneeling there, hands behind her back, she tries to rub her thighs together, hoping to not fall from this never ending high. Her tongue is hanging out of her mouth as if she is a dog in heat. Jaehyun somehow connects both ends of the jump rope with both clothespins.

"Open wide."

Seulgi obeys, opening her mouth fully. Jaehyun putts the middle of the jump in her mouth an she instinctively closes it again.

"Fuck, she looks like one of these Japanese porn stars right now."

Seulgi has to hold back the urge to lean towards one of the cocks pointing at her. She needs to feel them inside of her again. But the boys have other plans. Jiho and Seungmin snap a couple of pictures. And afterwards all five of them jerk off to the mess they've created.

Seulgi is kneeling on the floor. Naked, clothespins pinching her nipples, which are connected by a rope, that she's holding up with her teeth. Her whole body is covered in her own slick, her sweat, her saliva and the boy's cum. Her hair is a mess too, her eyes are red after getting hit by so much of her own saliva and cum. And even now, cum is leaking out of her ass and pussy. The tally marks on her throat are barely visible anymore. A number between 10 and 15. In contrast to that, her right thigh is completely covered. The number is bigger than the one on her throat.

The pure sight of their ruined Biology teacher eventually makes the boys cum one after another. First, it's Seungmin and Minho. Seungmin is standing on her right, his load hitting her cheek and her nose. Minho, right next to him, hits Seulgi directly in the eye, making it even worse. The other three cum soon after in quick succession. Jiho completely covers her left cheek. Hyunwoo paints her forehead and her hair from behind. And fianlly Jaehyun gives Seulgi's entire face on more layer of cum.

"I'm so fucked."

He groans, still finding it difficult to belive that they pulled all of this off.

"Same time next week?"

Jiho jokes, but he is visibly completely drained as well.

Man, I-"

Minho gets interrupted by the door being thrown open. All of them freeze. Seulgi's brain recovers in an instant and she's almost back to normal in a second. Who wouldn't turn sober, when one of the sudent's, who just used your body for hours without a break, mother stands in the door. Seulgi is very aware of the fact she is complete mess, kneeling inside a crcle of five of her students.

"Miss, Bae..."

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

Hi, everyone!

Please enjoy this nice Seulgi story. I apologize for the delay, but writing 19.6k words within a week isn't as easy as it sounds. I'm sure there is even more potential there, maybe even a full second chapter. I won't promise anything, but I did enjoy writing this a lot.

Stay healthy, everyone!

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Not as Tough as You Look !

genre: smut, crack

paring: emo vinyl store worker ! beomgyu x vinyl collector ! reader

Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, choking !!!! grinding, riding, creampie, handjob, hair pulling, nipple play, degrading, fucking in a record store but there’s no one there, beomgyu has his nipples pierced and a thigh tattoo hehe and also his eyebrow pierced bc why not he’d look so fine

Word count: 3.7k

With your crippling vinyl collection addiction, you ticked off yet another record store on your list with a sigh, making your way to the next using trusty google maps and a determined gaze.

So far, you hadn’t been able to find your favourite band, Red Jellyfish’s vinyl in any of the stores you’d been in and you’d made it your sole mission to check out every single record store in your city in hopes of finding it to add to your ever growing collection.

It wasn’t the most financially stable hobby, yes, what with some records being so unreasonably pricey these days. And yes, technically you could listen to the albums for free online anytime instead. But that defeated the purpose! They just wouldn’t get the satisfying feeling of owning a shelf of your own physical music and whenever you added more to it. Also, music just sounded so much better spinning around on a record player in your bedroom and adding to the nostalgic ambience and aesthetic. It simply made you content.

Obtaining Red Jellyfish currently, however, was serving as a difficult task. It was always the case with more obscure bands but it just made it more riveting trying to find vinyl for them.

You arrived at the next, walking in and the arrays of endless records welcoming you, the place had a funky 70s vibe to it and was decorated as so with a cool layout. You noticed a listening booth, unusual to have in most record shops nowadays and this one was also unusually large, serving more as a separate small room with a record player and sofas so customers could have a listen. You loved listening booths and this definitely was a very cool record store. You’d be coming in again for sure.

Your thoughts are quickly dissipated, however, at the sight of the very cute worker stood behind the counter. You stop in your tracks and find yourself unable to look away, the purpose of why you actually came in the first place long forgotten.

He was unbelievably attractive with a long, shaggy wolfcut and bangs that half covered his eyes, adorned with an eyebrow piercing that added to his emo-esque look, sporting an oversized band shirt and baggy jeans and he had the most prettily sculpted features ever. The bottom of his soft brown eyes underlined ever so slightly with black eyeliner making his gaze rather intimidating.

“Hey, do you need any help?”

That snaps you back from your reverie and you jolt, unsure how long you were just weirdly observing him.

“Huh? Oh…no. Just looking….” Wow, even his voice was really nice.

He raises his pierced eyebrow at that and a knowing smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah? At what exactly? Vinyls or someone?” He bursts into laughter then and you feel your cheeks heat up, cocky and confident waves radiating off of him. Oh, he knew he was hot.

“W-what? No!” You scoff and clear your throat, embarrassed.

He chuckles still and beams at you, brushing his bangs away from his face with his hands, rings scattered on some of his fingers. God, even his hands were attractive. “Uh huh. But seriously, Would you like any assistance? It is my job after all.”

“Well actually,” You clear your throat and straighten your posture, attempting to play it cool and forget, you were still on a mission, you must not get side tracked by pretty boys. “you wouldn’t happen to have the band Red Jellyfish would you?”

His eyes light up almost immediately, “No way! I love Red Jellyfish. I’ve never come across another fan before! And we certainly do.” He grins and disappears into the back, soon arriving with the vinyl in hand and excitedly handing it to you, “They’re finally coming out with a second album after years. I’m so excited!”

“Same. I didn’t think they’d ever end up making music again after how long their hiatus was.” You enthusiastically agree, happy to find someone who also shared a liking for the band.

“Wouldn’t really take you to listen to emo music to be honest...” The cute emo boy looks you up and down, referring to your not so dark and edgy outfit and he’s grinning again.

“Yeah well, I guess you could say I have a pretty eclectic music taste.” You shrug, rolling your eyes jokingly at him. “Although I'm not really well versed on emo music besides that.”

You notice his big brown eyes beam even more with excitement, beginning to talk animatedly. “You should definitely listen to more. It’s great and it has a lot of range and sub genres and there’s some really good bands and! And-“ He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and stops himself, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, you just want to pay for your album and go.” He smiles apologetically at you and presses buttons on the cash register instead to calculate the price for you.

You shake your head and laugh, finding it more so endearing. "No. In fact, you’ve convinced me. I’ll definitely get into it more and listen to some bands. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” You’d let him talk your ear off all day to be honest. He was super cute.

His eyes turn into little crescent moons at that as he smiles broadly and you can’t help swooning internally once again. “Ooh I definitely have to give you some recs and make you a playlist! What’s your number?”

That’s how you find yourself squealing after leaving the store and not only managing to obtain the album you’d been extensively searching for, but also the very, very hot emo boy worker’s number. You’ll be telling your friend Soobin for sure all about it.

The emo boy indeed had a name, you'd discovered after exchanging numbers, Beomgyu, he’d told you. And you hadn’t been able to get the name out of your head ever since.

Him making a playlist for you didn’t really mean anything, he was just giving recommendations and being nice and friendly. But still, you’ll allow yourself to be a bit delusional about it. It was still a cute boy making a playlist for you! Even if it was pretty impersonal.

Later on into the night you receive a text that makes you giddy all over.

Hey, it’s Beomgyu ! We met earlier at the record shop. I made the playlist of emo recs already hehe :) let me know what u think ;)

Along with the text was a Spotify link to the playlist, spending your whole night just listening to it.

As you got to know the genre better. You appreciated it a lot more and found you actually liked a lot of the songs, particularly the more screamo ones. The screaming and whining itched your brain and you were fascinated how much vocal control they had to be able to scream yet sing at the same time. You make a mental note of all your favourites and decide to tell him in person, since it’d give an excuse to see him again.

You walk to the store the next day and you're glad to see him behind the counter and not someone else. “I listened to all the songs. They were really good.”

“Already?” He raises his brow in surprise to see you again, lopsided grin on his face and head tilted.

“Well…yeah?” You scratch your head. You don’t why you feel slightly embarrassed about that.

Beomgyu leans over the counter excitedly, “Which ones did you like?” Suddenly, a vinyl album comes full swinging at Beomgyu and smacks the back of his head hard. You stand, astonished. “Oww! What the fuck?” Beomgyu rubs his poor head in attempt to soothe it and turns around to the suspect.

"You better be working and not talking your ass off, Choi Beomgyu!!" His manger, yeonjun, you observe from his tag comes into view and stands with narrowed eyes at him.

“I’m taking a break!” Beomgyu waves with his hand, trying to shoo him away so he could continue his conversation with you.

“You just started your shift?!!”

“So! 9-5s are hard…” Beomgyu pouts and looks at you as if to back him up.

Yeonjun shakes his head, hand to his nose bridge, "You know I'd fire you right?"

"You wouldn't because you love me. And I’m your best friend." Beomgyu proudly smirks to him.

"Debatable..." Yeonjun sighs defeatedly and walks off to restock a shelf instead, beomgyu completely ignoring him and returning back to the conversation with you.

After that, you become close friends with the boy, frequenting the vinyl shop for records, but mostly an excuse just so you could converse with him. You seem to develop a music recommending relationship, sharing playlists and recommending each other songs and then giving your own opinions and reviews to each other.

To be honest, getting to hangout with beomgyu like that was the highlight of your days and you’d grown to like him a lot. He was fairly easy going and nice to talk to, even if the conversation fell short on your side given you weren’t that socially competent, he always managed to keep it going and you loved hearing his funny ramblings and stories he’d passionately go on about. You found a lot of what he did just so endearing.

He was also a massive flirt. And it seemed you weren’t the only person who noticed just how hot the boy behind the counter was as a lot of the times you were there, girls and boys were batting their eyelashes up at him and coming into the store just to flirt with him too. You didn’t blame them at all. He'd flirt with you from time to time as well but you tried not to dwell too much on it, figuring it was simply just his personality.

Even if you were just probably friends, you were happy to have gained a friendship either way. He brought colour into your usual mundane day to day living and you hadn’t made a new genuine friend in so long, something that was seemingly rarer the more you got into adulthood. And so, you just appreciated the friendship. Even if you had developed the teeniest crush on him. Well, probably more than that.

Soobin had been nagging you for days on end about wanting to see this beomgyu guy for himself you'd talk about and doubting that he was so fine like you say, that you end up giving in and deciding to drag him along to the record store with you as well one day.

Upon seeing you walk in, Beomgyu's eyes light up happily, resembling that of a puppy seeing their owner finally arriving back home and he smiles widely...then he sees the tall guy following in behind you and his demeanour suddenly changes, head tilted and frowning, lips more in a pout.

Once you walk up to the counter with a vinyl Soobin wanted, beomgyu stares coldly and cautiously for a rather strange time at the tall blonde innocently sipping on his boba tea besides you and eventually speaks up. "Is he like, your...boyfriend?"

Soobin splutters and chokes on his drink and both of you wave your hands in a frenzy, "No!"

"Oh!" And he's back to his usual cheery self, smiling contently, a bit unsettling to both you and soobin as you exchange a wary look. "Yeah. It’s good he isn’t…” Beomgyu stares back at soobin with a look of such distaste and disgust.

You leave the store after paying not without trying to reassure a grumbly Soobin who looked like he was about to throw hands any second. “What did he mean it's good he isn't?!” He mocks beomgyu’s voice and scoffs. “I feel offended! Is he saying I’d make a bad boyfriend?! He doesn’t like me? Well I don’t like him. Bitch.”

You sigh, patting your frowning friend on the back, not sure what else to say at the strange interaction.

Finally, the day Red Jellyfish’s new album drops arrives and although it took absolutely everything in you not to listen to it instantly, both you and beomgyu had promised each other you’d listen together in the listening booth after his shift. So the day seems to drag on and on as you anticipate and impatiently waited for the evening when beomgyu would at last finish.

You zoom to the store when it’s finally time, seeing him tidying and closing up. You sit down onto the vintage orange funky sofa in the listening booth as beomgyu placed the album into the record player before taking a seat next to you, both holding in your breath as the first track plays, and then swapping an excited glance with widened eyes to each other as soon as the guitar melody starts playing and the bass also comes in, both remaining silent as you enjoy the song and listen attentively to what was going on. It was already so sick.

Once it ends you both excitedly gush over the new song before the second tracks rolls on. It’s a lot slower and more dreamy and ambient. The guitar distorted and playing a pretty rolling arpeggio and giving off the genre of a more shoegaze piece.

You stare at beomgyu’s concentrated face and he stares back. He really is so gorgeous, the pretty song seemingly reflecting this as you can’t help but admire him. You can’t help it either when your eyes flicker to his seriously pretty rounded lips for a second, wondering what it’d feel like to have them pressed with yours…

It seems it doesn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu either as he shuffles even closer to you, his scent intoxicating you as he grins smugly, looking down at your own lips that has you malfunctioning. He tucks in a strand of your hair behind your ear, still gazing and corners of his mouth pulling up, smiling at you.

There’s this underlying tension and the album you’d been heavily anticipating for months, the last thing on your mind, dissolving into background noise as the only thing you can think of is beomgyu and how close he is to you. It’s hard to hold back anymore.

He inches closer and closer and he kisses you. Finally kisses you, and you melt into the kiss with him, making out fervently.

He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist and tracing kisses on your neck instead that makes you gasp. “Couldn’t help it anymore…so pretty. Always make my day whenever you walk in.” Beomgyu whispers lowly, brushing his lips lightly against your ear which makes you shiver and the corners of his mouth curl into that stupid grin you’ve seen many times.

But then you decide to roll your hips against his and grind against his cock in his jeans and he falters instantly, mouth parting ‘o’ shaped and he whimpers high pitched, so unlike him. His ears and cheeks flush red and your movements stop. “S-shit sorry. Did I ruin it? That was really weird, fuck. Sorry.” Beomgyu averts your gaze, apologising profusely and embarrassed, bottom lip quivering slightly you notice. His whole demeanour changes. You’ve only ever seen beomgyu embarrassed a short handful of times, usually so sure of himself, but it only makes you go more crazy for him.

“Wanna act all tough but a little grinding is all it takes and it’s all crumbling down, huh?” You grin trying not to laugh, finding the boy and the way he’s shying underneath you suddenly so amusing. He still doesn’t make eye contact, cheeks even more impossibly red, “Look at me, baby.” You lift his chin up, seeing the way he reacts to the pet name, his eyes slightly widening.

“No. Don’t want to. Too embarrassed.” Beomgyu pouts cutely, you chuckle and coo at him, stroking his cheek which he leans into. You begin to grind against him again and take the lead in kissing him, his hands shaking and gripping your waist even tighter as he attempts to stifle his whimpers, eyes tightly shut. You kiss and suck down his neck as well, determined to leave hickeys in their wake. You’re surprised by how easily he submits to you. You like it a lot.

You pull the oversized band shirt he wears over his head and unzip his ripped jeans. The sight your met with however making you audibly gasp, his pink nipples prettily pierced through and the top of his plush thigh tattooed in a pattern of a heart and lines branching out like thorns. It makes you even more feral.

Gripping the pretty flesh of his tatted thigh, you begin to jerk off his cock which was flushed and leaking precum anyway as he waited for you to do something. He whines and moans into your ear as you pump your hand up and down on his length, head buried deep in your neck.

You can feel his heavy breaths and the drool on you and his whole body twitches and squirms when you place your free hand on one of his nipples instead, rolling the bud in your fingers and twisting which elicits a strangled moan out of him, clinging to you even tighter when you ruthlessly pump his cock, thumb toying with the slit on the head of dick and also still toying with his now puffy nipples. You can feel the drool dribble down your neck now. And you know he’ll cum any second, added ministrations on his pretty tits not helping him from restraining at all, so sensitive especially ever since he got them pierced.

“F-fuckk..hah..Please. Can I cum?” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with wet doe eyes. He’s so unexpectedly pliant in your hands, you’d give him anything if he looked up at you like that. And so you do, allowing him to cum, he whines loudly and squirts making a pretty mess, cum coating his tattoo on his thigh.

You’re not anywhere near done with him yet though and you hover over his dick, bringing the head to slide over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink completely down on his wet and sticky cock. Beomgyu throws his head back and groans, biting his lip hard at the feeling of his cock inside your warm pussy and you begin to slowly ride him, sucking in air loudly.

“Mmh fuck pull my hair too. It’s okay I like it rough-ah s-shit. Can take anything you give me” Beomgyu stutters and throws an arm over his head, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

So you tug and pull at the strands of his long hair and tangle and run your hands in his scalp, it makes him moan even louder, looking absolutely in bliss, you could tell just how much he liked his hair being pulled and pull with even more force, his eyes glazing up and mind all mushy and hazy now as you continued to fuck him and tug on his scalp. He looked so slutty and you can’t help telling him.

“Such a slut.” He just whines loudly in response. “You like being called a slut, huh? Wanna be my toy, my pet, my slut?

“Y-yeah-ah so good-holyy s-shit” He just nods vigorously, so dumbed out at this point, jaw hanging dumbly open. “W-wait squeeze my neck please.…”

You didn’t think beomgyu would be such a freak either.

“Are you sure, beomgyu?”

He strenuously nods and begs you. “Yeahh..need it please. I can take anything.” He gently takes your hand on his own and brings it to press down on his neck. He still stares at you with his big round brown eyes. It was honestly a confusing juxtaposition, the way he looked at you innocently whilst asking you to do something so obscene as choking him.

You squeeze his pretty neck either way and watch as he hisses and his face scrunches up gorgeously, veins in his neck popping out and grunting, you fuck him ruthlessly bouncing on his cock and the squelching so loud and clear and evident despite the music still playing on the record player.

You can’t help feeling possessive over him, finally having him beneath you, all yours to use, remembering all the girls that come in everyday to flirt with him and you get to have him all to yourself . Imagine the look on their faces if they could see beomgyu right now, your hands still lightly squeezing his neck and riding him. You kinda wish you could mark him all over.

“H-harder…choke me harder” Beomgyu gulps.

It makes your pace on his cock even faster and so rough and you press down on his neck ever harder. His jaw clenches, neck and face red and eyebrows furrowed. He gasps for air, letting out the prettiest loud and whiny breathy noises.

His breath hitches with every unrelenting bounce on his cock and he struggles to breathe, eyes heavy lidded and so fucked out, a distant look on his face, you press down just a little bit more on his neck and his eyes roll to back of his head, a long strangled high pitched moan coming out of him as he bucks his hips up and convulses, spurting heaps of his cum inside you and it brings you over the edge too. He can’t stop cumming it seems, shaking and endlessly panting and still squirting inside you as you basically milk him. You can see the red imprint of your hand on his pretty neck along with the numerous hickeys you left, it was definitely a sight to see.

It takes a while for beomgyu to recover from his high after how good you fucked him but he eventually speaks up, clinging to you. “Sooo, I got two tickets to see red jellyfish…Would you possibly want to go with me?” He grins and pants, biting his lip, still out of breath and bangs damp from sweat, pierced eyebrow raised and head tilted as he waited your answer.

You chuckle wrapping your arms around him tightly, kissing him again. “I’d love to.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: this is probably really messy bc I haven’t proof read. Writer’s block is actually so hard 😭😭 *just a little note-if anything seems familiar it is probably bc my mind has never been sane ever since hey emo boy! by koqabear. It is the emo beomgyu blueprint and literally birthed emo beomgyu <33

[tiredandsapphic]

SOFT HANDS

pairing ꩜ adult!lottie matthews x fem!reader summary ꩜ carpenter lottie... builder lottie... handy lottie, yes please an ꩜ just a blurb cuz im facing the lethal writers block

thinking about lottie who builds things around the commune… some small jobs to keep her distracted, or big ones to keep her busy. honestly so talented too, she knows what she’s doing. yeah she's a cult leader, but she's also handy.

and for you? lottie will build anything your heart desires. you don’t even ask her directly, you’ll just utter the words “oh another garden would be nice…” or “a little path there will add to the place…”

"it would be like super romantic to have a little greenhouse by the lake." you mentioned once. "yeah?" "It's a dumb idea though, probably not enough room." and then you forgot about it after that.

two weeks later? its there. full of all your favourite plants, perfectly stained wood, and painted in an accent colour of your favourite, "because it reminded me of you," she'll say.

imagining lottie have notebooks full of ideas and plans. you find her half the time scribbling in them. she'll be writing in it with you nearby, probably while you're sleeping or reading. you peak inside them sometimes, a lot of sketches full of notes like,

'soft cushions for her knees while she gardens' 'sunrise hits at 6:17am—good spot for window for her favourite lighting' 'ask someone to teach me how to build a tub outside??' with frantic underlines.

when you ask her about it someone she gets all bashful and admits "I just... like to see you happy."

imagine just seeing her building something new for the commune, wearing her tank tops and linen loose pants. oh gosh, she's perfectly fit from all the work she does, absolutely obsessed. seeing the way her muscles work when she moves, and how she glistens in the sun, all you can do is stare. her hair all tied back, pencil behind her ear, still looking so ethereal.

being lottie's girlfriend whose kinda bad at all that stuff and still wanna help? yes. you help in your own way. bringing her snacks, drinks and of course kisses for motivation. those are her favourite. sometimes it escalates though...

"okay, so i just hold it here right?" you ask, hands attempting to grip a piece of lumber as she measures. "mmm, not quite baby, let me help," she's so patient, shifting behind you. she wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring how to steady the wood. guiding your hands with her larger ones, "good girl, just like that"

yeah... you're not much help after that, everything just got 10x more hot. you'll just stick to moral support.

she's only human and not totally healed, so she gets frustrated sometimes. the mix of the hot sun and a nail not laying correctly? yeah that ticks her off. imagining her breathing a little harder, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. the little murderous sighs she lets out, hehe. you always know how to calm her down though, soft praises and assurance. sometimes through more physical activities...

giving her massages too when she pulls something or is just so sore from all the hard work she does. you live of it, she loves it too much, its a win win. feeling her muscles under the pads of your fingers, working in her commune made remedies. ugh its so intimate. she makes a ritual out of it, having candles and soft scents some nights. your hands are so soft and work in all the right places. maybe getting injured is not as bad as it seems.

and the real reason she does all this? the praise. the recognition she receives, mostly from you. she lives for it, she needs it. when you tell her 'good job' or how much of a 'hard working girl' she is? she's gone. she'll do anything for you and wants you to feel that, because she loves her girl so so much.

[thelikesoffinn]

„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.  

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just  underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.  

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve  all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

[lovings4turn]

pairing: best friend!luke hughes x reader

becca’s notes.. a short and sweet introduction to reader and luke’s friendship. if you saw the first version of this, no you didn’t as i realise i'd totally fucked myself over and made the framing of the fic SO much harder so !

📰 series masterlist masterlist ⋆˚࿔ likes + rbs appreciated

LUKE ISN’T exactly sure when the two of you had upgraded from ‘friend’ to ‘best friend’ status. all he knows is that, some time in the past few years, it had happened, and that he wouldn’t change it.

the two of you met back when luke had just started out at umich. a touch ganglier and a lot more awkward, it was hard not to feel endeared by the tall boy who had approached you at some random frat party, a sheepish ‘my friend thinks you’re cute!’ shouted at you over the music as his thumb jabbed over his shoulder.

it’s funny to think that your friendship was forged on a lie. 

well, not necessarily a lie. more a… bending of the truth. see, luke’s friend hadn’t thought you were cute, because he wasn’t even actually luke’s friend at all. he was, in fact, just some random guy that luke had been convinced into wingmanning, his inhibitions lowered thanks to the amount of alcohol in the host’s jungle juice. 

unsurprisingly, luke didn’t manage to score the poor guy a date that night, something he was reminded of two hours later when the man bumped into his shoulder abrasively, a sarcastic ‘nice one, man’ grumbled into his ear. luke would be insulted, if not for your surprised bark of laughter that was quickly, terribly stifled by your hand. 

that moment seemed to solidify your newfound yet indestructible friendship, and you’d left that party with one shoe, the promise of an awful hangover come morning, and luke hughes’ number in your phone. ‘thing one’ and ‘thing two’, jack had quickly christened you, something you and luke had taken in your stride, even making it your halloween costume later that year. 

though, it’s not always an easy ride, at least, not as far as luke is concerned, namely due to his aforementioned older brother. no matter how many times luke rolls his eyes, calls him medieval and primitive for his backwards ways of thinking - ‘big words, for him’, quinn had taunted once - jack is relentless. 

nine times out of ten, even the mere mention of your name elicits a childish ‘ooh, y/n’ to slip from jack’s lips, cheeky grin only making his already annoying teasing more infuriating. if luke had a dollar every time he had to shut down some form of teasing about you and him, he’s sure that his nhl salary would pale in comparison to the sum he’d have in his bank account. 

you and luke are just friends. underline it, write it in permanent marker, add five exclamation points afterwards if you really want to. point is, it’s a fact, an unwavering constant that manages to make the stress and unpredictability of his life just that touch more bearable.

so what if he can’t linger on the intricacies of your friendship for far too long lest his mouth turn slightly dry and the pattern of his hearts jumps irregularly?

and yeah, he thinks you’re pretty, but that means nothing. the man has eyes, for god’s sake, and he’s not an idiot. even his teammates agree with him, something that causes his jaw to tick any time he dwells on the fact, not that it’s relevant.

falling for your best friend is near laughable, honestly. it's a book trope, something you and luke have made fun of countless times over, even though he knows that deep down you harbour a secret fondness for the dynamic. it's a kitschy cliche for a reason.

the third hughes brother, a star defenseman, hell, he’ll take fucking snoopy hughes at this point. because luke is many things, but a goddamned cliche, he is not, and you can quote him on that.

[romeavedefenders]

mystreet boys & nicknames

characters; laurance, gene & zenix x reader

author; kiri

a/n: my first post! it's a bit simple, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. remember, asks are open for feedback and requests <3

c/w: reader is referred to with gendered terms a few times.

Laurance

This man is a big fan of any nickname that gets you flustered, but he has a few particular favourites.

Love and beautiful are nicknames he uses on the regular, so much so that it occasionally makes you wonder if he even remembers your actual name. In fact, Laurance rarely uses your name - why should he, when he has a repertoire of nicknames that fit you perfectly?

Out of all the men mentioned in this post (maybe even out of all the men in MyStreet), Laurance is the frontrunner and reigning champion in making up sickeningly sweet nicknames, such as sugarcakes, buttercup, light of my life, etc.  If stringing together random words into an affectionate term was a crime, he’d be in federal prison at this point. He usually does this to get a rise out of you, especially in front of your mutual friends (who all think its equal parts funny and embarrassing), but he also just enjoys it. He thinks it’s a cute thing to do, and doesn’t really care if others find it odd or embarrassing. Why should he?

He mostly uses your actual name when calling for you or if you’re arguing, mainly to underline that he’s being serious. It’s not really a conscious decision. I like to think that it’s a habit he picked up from Cadenza when they were kids. At some point, this becomes so ingrained in your dynamic that if he, for whatever reason, calls you by your real name, you automatically start wondering if something’s wrong, and if you’re an overthinker…well that can snowball quickly.

Again, that’s not a conscious decision - hence the slip up. Once Laurance becomes aware of this, either by you telling him or him noticing (because if there is one thing this man is, it’s observant), he’ll actually start trying to alternate between using a nickname and your name more often, especially during serious conversations or arguments. Mainly because he is slightly disturbed by the idea that he accidentally had you associating your name with you two arguing.

Another nickname he uses is angel, though it’s reserved for more intimate moments when he gets really sappy. It’s accompanied by whispers of adoration, confessions of love, and reminders of how much you mean to him. He genuinely believes he’s the luckiest man alive to have you, wonderful you, as his partner. You brighten up all of his days, even those you aren’t present for, and bring out the best in him. Sounds a lot like what an angel would do, doesn’t it?

Gene

Another man who loves to make you flustered.

Babe is one he uses often, but for him it’s more a word that's interchangeable with your name, rather than a term of endearment. Still, if someone else called you that - you’d have a really annoyed Gene on your hands. Exceptions are made for people like Lucinda, who will call everyone and their mom every nickname in the book.

A nickname he absolutely loves to use is doll. He thinks it’s really cute (and these days, unique), and it almost never fails to make you blush. Especially when it's accompanied by his signature smirk and husky voice - that usually has a playful lilt to it. When you’re busy doing something, he loves to come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist and mumble a small “hey doll” into your ear - and if that’s not distracting you enough, he might press a few kisses to your cheek, slowly trailing them down to your jaw.

Another thing he does is add “my” to almost any nickname he uses - “my doll”, “my darling” or just a plain old “my girl/boy”, depending on what you’re comfortable with.

On that note, he’ll sometimes say “good girl/boy” as a response to you listening to him, mostly to get a reaction out of you. And Gene, being the little prick he can be, will deliberately stop saying it for a while if he even suspects you’re getting used to it. It’s really just an ace up his sleeve that he loves to pull whenever you don’t expect it, and your reactions entertain him endlessly.

He’ll also call you sweetheart, though not nearly as often. It’s mostly used when he’s trying to comfort you, or if he himself is having a really shitty day and just needs you nearby (preferably, in his arms).

I cannot remember if this was confirmed or not, but i HC Gene as being at least partly hispanic, so i think he might occasionally use spanish terms of endearment such as mi amor or mi cielo.

Zenix

Honestly, this guy isn’t really all that big on nicknames (unless dumbass, pain in the ass and idiot count). He has nothing against them, but you already have a name, and he likes it, so why not use it? He’s not great at thinking of good ones either, and he feels like most of them just don’t roll off the tongue that naturally. Nicknames like love, darling and dear feel especially awkward to him, and it’s only slightly because emotional vulnerability and casual proclamations of love scare the shit out of him.

Like Gene, he’ll use babe more than others, though mostly in an obnoxious way. If he wants something, or is just being whiny in general, he’ll call you that until you give him the attention he wants.

If you like nicknames, he honestly tries really hard. Most of them just feel really awkward to him, and he doesn’t really see the point until you start calling him various nicknames, and it kind of clicks in his head why people like it so much.

At some point you stop using them, thinking they make him uncomfortable, and he gets genuinely upset. He stumbles through a flustered explanation, where the bottomline is that withholding affection from him like that should be considered a crime, a description you laugh at, but take to heart. When you tell him that you simply assumed he was uncomfortable because he doesn’t call you anything in return, he grumbles about how assumptions are stupid and you should just ask him instead.

Still, Zenix knows it takes two to tango, and after that, he grows a bit more comfortable with nicknames. He tries out a bunch, but it’s mostly because he gets a kick out of your reactions. 

In private, he likes to call you sexy, mostly as a joke. There is truth to it of course, he thinks you’re extremely attractive, but the word is just really funny to him. Plus, your flushed face is one hell of a bonus. He would never dare call you that in front of others, especially not Gene and Sasha, so that’s a prime opportunity to get revenge for whatever torment he puts you through.

Honorable mention; hot stuff is another one he might use, for the same reason.

Zenix also really likes to just refer to you as “mine”. He’s possessive, moreso out of insecurity than distrust, though he does find it difficult to put his faith in anyone - especially a romantic partner, which he struggles to admit. He needs a lot of reassurance, which sometimes just comes in the form of calling you his, and with you affirming.

Unironically (well, kind of) refers to you as his partner in crime. Both in private and with others; it’s not that sweet, sure, but it’s a nice middle ground for him when calling you more affectionate names seems so daunting, especially when others can hear. It kind of becomes your thing after a while, even if one day he grows comfortable enough to express his love for you differently.

Zane

He probably grew up with his parents calling each other all kinds of classy terms of endearment like honey, darling, love, and beloved, and I feel like that kind of carries over to him. In the beginning of the relationship at least. He has other nicknames he prefers to use later on.

Beloved is the one that always sticks. It’s simple, but carries a lot of meaning - literally referring to someone or something that is “dearly loved”. And that perfectly describes how he feels about you.

Zane is not the type to use many terms of endearment in public, if any at all. Not out of shyness, he’s just a pretty private person, and while he doesn’t mind PDA, he doesn’t see the need to flaunt everything about his relationship out in the open. He views terms of endearment as a pretty intimate thing by default, and while he doesn’t mind you using them in public (it makes him smile, honestly), he prefers to keep it to a minimum.

If this bothers you, he’ll use them in front of your friends a bit more often. He doesn’t want you to think that he doesn’t love you enough to show it in front of others.

In private, on the other hand? He’s a sucker for cute nicknames like muffin or pumpkin, both of which he uses a lot. As soon as the door shuts behind you two, he’s practically forgetting your given name in favor of those two. He prefers pumpkin, not for any particular reason. It’s also the one he defaults to when you’re upset. He’ll notice quite quickly, and move you to a quiet area, offering you a hug and mumbling “what’s wrong, pumpkin?” into your hair.

He’s not rapid-firing nicknames like Laurance is, but he’s quite close in the race. It’s just a simple way for him to remind you that he cares about you, something intimate he saves just for you. His family have heard him call you sweet things before (and they definitely enjoy this softer side of him), but he tries to keep it between the two of you.

Nicknames he uses less often, and definitely in a more teasing manner, are bunny or kitty, sometimes just pet. You would not catch him dead calling you any of these in front of anyone else, not even while completely wasted, but if you’re alone and he feels like teasing you? He’s pulling out all the stops.

Pet is one he especially uses when he’s trying to convince you to do something for him. Most of the time, it’s something mundane, like taking care of yourself properly - or making him a cup of tea because he’s too lazy to get up. He knows you can’t say say no when he uses just the right tone of voice, even if you’re cursing him as you stomp off to do whatever it is he said.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

[yanderenightmare]

your vocab is really rich, what's ur secret

Vocabulary Tricks & Tips

Excellent request!

♡ Read!

And every time you stumble upon a word you've never noticed before or know but don't often use, put it in a list, write down its meanings, and try using it the next time you write!

I'll put my list at the end of the post!

♡ Read Different Things!

Different authors and different styles, especially poetry! I mean, if you're looking to fatten your vocab, reading poetry is one of the best ways to do it. Poetic writers must search far and wide for the perfect words to create rhymes and rhythms and audibly pleasing sentences---they practically do all the work for you! Honestly, I am so serious about this. One of the best things you can do is buy a fat compendium of poetry with all different authors and eras. Get you some Edgar Allen Poe, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson, and Shakespeare if you want to hurt your head.

Also! The same goes for music! Try listening to the lyrics---you'll probably hear some words you've never thought of using in your writing.

♡ Cheap Trick for Bilinguals~

Write something in your own language and put it through Google Translate. Honestly, I've found so many words just by doing this.

♡ Synonyms!

Every time you feel you've used a word too much, or anytime a word bores you to read, search up its synonyms and try using something you've never used before---don't stop the search until you're satisfied. Sometimes, it takes me more time to find just one word than it takes to write an entire post. Not only does this enrich your vocab, but you've probably just written a whole other sentence with newer meanings and more nuance

Make your own synonym lists! Seriously! Because you can only find that many creative synonyms by searching up "word+synonyms.

Additionally! Think outside the box! Often, the best synonyms are those words that aren't actual synonyms at all. If you read poetry, you'll see poets use unorthodox words in place of something all the time---it's called a metaphor. Take flesh, for example---you can use fat, meat, muscle, brawn, beef---but you can also use cake, down, plume, pillow, softness, etc...

I find this one especially useful for writing erotica, as you have to describe a lot of the same actions and body parts over and over and still make it interesting. (I'll add my synonyms list at the end of the post)

♡ Showing vs Telling

Also! This one is trickier, but instead of using words and synonyms, try making sentences that can replace the word instead---such as longer metaphors and fuller descriptions!

This aligns with the literary device of "showing vs. telling." Of course, outright telling has its uses too and should not be disbarred entirely from writing, but often, it's showing that persuades the reader more.

For example, instead of saying nervous, make sentences that describe how the character in question showcases nervousness---does their throat close up, do they sweat, do their eyes go wide, do they stutter, do they fiddle with their fingers, pick their nails, bite their lip, kick the ground, hunch their shoulders, look away, blush, flush, cry, run away or do they feel stuck?

Describing these things helps the reader better understand the type of nervousness the character is experiencing. Hence, it makes for not only more interesting writing but also clearer writing!

♡ Focus & Expanding

A similar literary device is "focus and expanding," which slows down the reading or puts focus on certain aspects of the text by describing something to a great extent. If, say, this nervousness the example character is experiencing is of great significance, then that's what the readers' takeaway should be. But the reader won't think too much of it if the text simply states that they're nervous without underlining it.

Luckily, there are plenty of ways of doing that, firstly through showing vs. telling, such as in the examples above, then metaphorically, such as:

The ground seemed to swallow him up, down the guzzle of a monster with an appetite for disaster---darkness ensued like a storm cloud, cold and clawing with a weight heavy enough to nail him to the spot---all eyes were on him, unblinking and all-seeing, no matter what, he couldn't escape, he was stuck, glued to the ground by the soles of his shoes.

I mean, the options are truly endless.

These metaphors piled together are also a form of focusing and expanding, but you can take it even further than that by focusing on a small detail and giving it significance.

For example, say the character is sweating because he's so nervous---you might focus on a single droplet of sweat instead of everything else:

A chill ran down his back. No, not a chill--sweat. Cold and creepily tracing the rigid bones of his spine. He can't move--if he moves, then they'll see. The sweat will seep into his shirt, and everyone will know what a sweaty and pathetic wreck he is. So, he can't move. No, yes, leave it alone. The droplet continues, running down the cold skin of his clammy back, sliding undeterred until meeting the band of his boxers and disappearing in the fibers. He swallows thickly and sighs with relief--only for another to pill at his nape, tracking the same course as the former. A vicious cycle is forming. He needs to get out of there!

And that's focus and expanding, folks! Focusing on something minuscule and expanding it by using it to describe what the character is feeling. It's a way to have a fresh take on something that's been written a thousand times before, such as "he was nervous."

♡ Lastly~

Anyway, I might have gone a little above and beyond, but really, all these literary devices are ways of "expanding vocabulary" or at least giving an impression of it.

♡ NEW WORDS!

Manically---like a maniac

Despotic---like a dictator, having unlimited power over someone, often using it unfairly and cruelly

Chasm---a deep fissure, like a ravine, wound, or metaphorical rupture

Shunts---track-change basically, scoots to the side

Dearth---a scarcity or lack of something, a shortage

Raucous---making a harsh or loud noise

Innocuous---not harmful or offensive---harmless and safe, but also bland and unremarkable, maybe even a little boring

Lanyard---the woven necklace of a festival pass

Gossamer---fine spiderwebs, almost mesh

Cossetted---care for and protect in an overindulgent way

Beribboned---decorated with many ribbons

pupil-fat---cool way of saying enlarged pupils

Chitters---snickers, like a bird

Decadent---corrupt, depraved

Blotting---either soak up and absorb, or stain, or obscure

Barbell---a bar “pole” with attachments on each side

Bunting---of animals, when they butt or rub their head against you

Garnet---red

Cherubic---angelic, plump cuteness, quality of a child

Haunches---hips

Sodden---soaking

Waxing poetic---speaking in a flowery or poetical fashion

Inkwell---a container for ink---a dark well

Rend---tear in two, or more pieces

Ebb---recede, go back, like a tide wave

Webbed---like a duck's feet

Cloying---sickly sweet

Saccharine---oversweet

Apple of your cheek

Swathes---wrap, swaddle

Shroud---obscure something

Moonstone---to describe something grey and dusty, but pretty

Kinked---tangled, messy

Leaden---heavy, dull, slow or the colour of lead, grey

Stygian---devoid of light and brightness, hellish

Flaxen---of hair, champagne colored---ashy blonde

Tepid---lukewarm

♡ SYNONYMS!

Related to sucking cock:

Swallow

Glug

Drink

Eat

Guzzle

Receive

Take

Suck

Suckle

Slobber

Gargle

Gurgle

Drool

Gulp

Gobble

Stuff

Glut

Choke

Gag

Lap

Lick

Kitten-lick

Slurp 

Allow entry

Related to kissing:

Kiss

Lock/brush lips

Tongue-feed

Suck faces

Smooch

Peck

Snog

Canoodle

Related to biting:

Bite

Graze

Nip

Nibble

Sink teeth into

Chomp

Related to crying:

Whimpering

Mewling

Bleating

Whining

Snivel

Sniffle

Cry

Sob

Bawl

Hiccup

Spluttering

Blubbering

Coughing

Croaking

Related to pre-cum:

Ooze

Leak

Weep

Well

Drip

Dribble

Flow

Drain

Bleed

Sweat

Seep

Pill

Pearl

Cry

Related to fear and panic:

Hysterical

Wild

Manic

Uncontrolled

Unrestrained

Frantic

Frenzied

Restless

Hectic

Sporadic

Swivel-eyed

Related to screaming:

Scream

Yell

Wail

Yelp

Yip

Yammer

Squawk

Howl

Squeal

Shriek

Related to moaning:

Moan

Whine

Yelp

Purr

Hum

Croon

Related to overstimulated moaning:

Mumble

Croon

Warble

Quaver

Burble

Bumble

Hum

Slur

Ramble

Mutter

Whisper

Stammer

Stutter

Scramble

Jumble

Muddled

Babble

Blubbered

Splutter

Blurt

Related to groaning:

Groan

Grunt

Growl

Grumble

Grouch

Hiss

Guttural

Feral

Rusty 

Throaty

Wet

Sloppy

Related to angry noises:

Howl

Roar

Bark

Grizzle

Grump

Related to surprise or fear:

Gasp

Gulp

Choke

Suck in a sharp breath

Flinch

Jump

Jostle

Wince

Hiss

Pull back

Related to comforting:

Coo

Fuss

Comfort

Hush

Shush

Tsk

Mollycoddle

Nurse

Cuddle

Babying

Consoling

Soothe

Loving

Smothering

Hug

Hug tight

Cocoon

Snuggling

Swaddling

Rock back and forth with

Cosseting

Petting

Overwhelm

Related to begging:

Beg

Pleading

Pray

Bargain

Related to soreness and pain:

Ache

Sore

Throb

Swollen

Fattened

Welted

Related to taking cock inside entrance:

Swallow

Receive

Take

Suck inside

Stuff

Fill

Allow entry

Submit to

Ease inside

Bully inside

Squeeze inside

Force inside

Push

Pry

Tear

Related to how the hole squeezes:

Kissing

Fluttering

Hugging

Pressing

Squishing

Squeezing

Tightening

Pulsing

Related to a wet hole:

Slush

Squelch

Squishy

Creamy

Sloppy

Wet

Soaked

Slosh

Sop

Cry

Slick

Weep

Drool

Gush

Swollen

Velvety

Gummy

Cotton

Silken

Satiny

Related to thrusting:

Squeeze into

Pound

Jam

Ram

Rut

Loll

Rock

Thrust

Stuff

Bottom out

Fill

Fit

Nestle

Cram

Prodding

Poking

Kissing

Hammering

Jack-hammer

Smack

Slap

Ream

Tear

Related to pleasure:

Ecstatic

Opium-eyed

Euphoric

Elated

Thrilled

Blissed-out

Rapturous

High

Cloudy

Numb

Related to overstimulation:

Overstimulated

Outdone

Aching

Burning

Sweating

Feverish

Delirious

Febrile

Numb

Immobile

Dazed

Dull

Related to being dumb, high, or overstimulated:

Ditzy

Dumb

Clumsy

Silly

Foolish

Giddy

Brainless

Dizzy

Fuzzy

Dopey

Whimsical

Fickle

Featherbrained

Daft

Hare-brained

Awkward

Graceless

Blundering

Bumbling

Klutzy

Clueless

Cloddish

Dense

Related to the body and the flesh:

Tender

Supple

Soft

Creamy

Plush

Doughy

Cakey

Downy

Pillowy

Malleable

Squeezable

Biteable

Pliable

Touchable

Putty

Plume

Related to cuteness:

Cute

Cherubic

Adorable

Sweet

Soft

Precious

Darling

Lovable

Endearing

Baby

Related to weak or smallness:

Breakable

Brittle

Weak

Fragile

Dainty

Delicate

Frail

Flimsy

Vulnerable

Petite

Small

Little

Tiny

Feeble

Defenseless

Powerless

Helpless

Worthless

Hopeless

Related to struggling:

Struggle

Winding

Striving

Straining

Toiling

Playing

Wriggle

Wiggle

Twist

Shake

Tremor

Shiver

Quake

Related to men:

Vulgar

Loud

Oafish

Rough

Rude

Rustic

Gruff

Gross

Doltish

Barbaric

Bearish

Beastly

Churlish

Coarse

Swinish

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

[eevees-hobbies]

Nasty Girl (Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I was sitting in traffic, and Lick or Sum by GloRilla started playing, and I thought, “this would make Kaji blush if it blasted through his headphones.” Anyway, GloRilla and Tinashe songs are referenced below, but you don’t have to know those songs to enjoy the story 🙂

Synopsis: New Fear has been Unlocked: not disconnecting your music from your boyfriend's headphones. Now, he just has to match your freak. 

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji. Sensory Deprivation (hearing), lyrics are explicit, Kaji imagines you giving him a lap dance, mention of Kaji smelling your sex, cunnilingus, p in v, dom behavior, dirty talk, use of the words slut and brat, ass smacking, talk of worshipping that ass, and technically a cumshot/creampie combo. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact. 

Word Count: 2.4K

Divider by @strangergraphics. Story banner by me.

If you and Kaji could add music sharing to the official list of love languages, it would be underlined, bolded, and highlighted as it serves as an integral part of your relationship.

You appreciate Kaji’s favorite genres. Some of your dates with him include attending concerts—hard-hitting drums and thunderous electric rifts from bands like Metallica, Slipknot, and Megadeth make up some of your fondest memories with him.

Kaji enjoys listening to you express your musical taste, too. You are most certainly not a monolith; your taste in music varies, drifting through the ebbs and flows of enjoying different beats and sounds as you float between different genres depending on your mood.

While some of the songs you like may not resonate with him personally, he’ll always nod along as you gush about your favorite artists. He adores how your face lights up, whether you’re talking about rock, metal, hip-hop, or everything else in between. So when you apologize because you’re "talking his ear off," he’ll shake his head and encourage you to keep going. “Please tell me more about Megan Thee Stallion’s new album.”

Not only do you two exchange opinions on music, but it also isn’t unusual for you to borrow his headphones to listen to your playlist. 

One day, you were preparing to make dinner, so you reached for your cell phone to put on some motivational tunes to get you through the monotony of dicing vegetables.

As you pushed play on your phone, you tilted your head to the side. You didn’t hear lyrical prose coming from the speakers. Instead, you heard the distinct sound of deafening silence. You pushed the play button again, considering that maybe you hadn’t pressed the correct area on the screen.

Still, nothing. 

As you pick up your device to investigate whether the volume is on, Kaji, seated on the couch in the other room, scrunches his nose. 

The music from the band In Flames suddenly stopped and was replaced by what he assumed to be something you were attempting to listen to. 

His eyebrows furrow as he genuinely listens to the lyrics.

Lick on my clit, make this pussy cream. Do this motherfucker how you do them Russian creams.

Yeah, there’s no doubt that this is from your playlist, and it was certainly…graphic. 

Kaji rises from the couch and approaches the kitchen doorway, pausing under the doorframe to admire you. His eyes wander over your shape, your ass jutting out a bit as you lean your elbows on the counter. 

The lyrics are still drilling into his ear, raunchier and more explicit than the first few lines he heard, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d be willing to sing these lyrics to him. He imagines your pretty lips mouthing filthy shit into his ear. 

His cock twitches, thinking about you dancing to the song, flirting your hips and ass in his lap as you tease him, letting his hands explore your body as you dip low and bend over, letting him see the way your ass eats up the fabric of shorts. Before he knows it, he’s rock hard, the outline of his dick protruding through his black skinny jeans. 

You still haven’t identified the problem, and right as you consider force-closing the application, you feel Kaji press his body against your back. You jump a little at his sudden presence and open your mouth to tell him to give you a warning next time, but before you can, he places one shell of the headphones over your ear, leaving the one closest to his mouth uncovered.

“Interesting taste you have. What did she say? ‘All over his breath like pussy flavored gum’”

Well, damn, then.

Your knees suddenly feel as though they may not be able to keep you upright, trembling and unstable, as if you’re a new babe learning how to walk again. You feel the warmth of his breath, sweet and cherry-flavored, on the back of your neck. 

Your boyfriend never talks like this. Kaji isn’t vanilla by any means, but he definitely doesn’t say things like GloRilla does in her song. 

You laugh nervously. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how hard he’s pressing your body into the edge of the counter.

“I didn’t realize that I hadn’t disconnected Bluetooth.” 

“No, looks like you didn’t.”

Kaji reaches up and places the other headphone shell over your ear—music drowns out any of the sounds in the kitchen, like the ticking of the clock on the wall or Kaji’s breathing in your ear. Instead, it’s replaced with the beginning of Tinashe’s Nasty.

I've been a nasty girl, nasty.

As she asks if anyone’s going to match her freak, you can feel Kaji’s hands tracing down your body, squeezing your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress, fingers lingering over your nipples despite the presence of your bra. He knows your body so well that he can locate them simply from memory. 

As he glides his hands down your stomach, you prepare for him to touch you where you need him the most. The drooling, twitching mess that she is needs him.

But Kaji’s hands move behind you instead of touching you where you ache. You let out an audible whine that earns you an unseen smirk. Yeah, he knows what you think you need, but he knows better. 

Need somebody with a good technique Is somebody gonna match my nasty?

He crouches down, hands lifting your dress; you don’t need a verbal command to know to kick up your feet so he can pull your panties down and toss them to the side. 

If you keep up with me I'll keep on comin' back

With his strong hands placed firmly on your ass, his fingers grip and fondle the plush flesh, earning a strangled moan from your throat. You wiggle your ass in an attempt to get him to stop toying with you and touch you. But all you earn is a searing smack to your ass cheek and Kaji’s eyes appreciating the way you jiggle for him. 

If you do it too good I'm gonna get attached

You yelp, your skin feeling a brief sting from his palm. You pout, but honestly, you only have yourself to blame, and you should absolutely know better. Kaji prefers it when you behave yourself, but when you are fervent about acting up? Fine, either a firm smack to your ass or clit, or a hand wrapped around your throat is quick to put you in your place. 

But he’s not cruel. Punishments are his last resort, and as he presses his lips to the tender spot where he smacked your ass, offering you a gentle peace treaty, you’re reminded of that. 

You once again jerk from his touch, feeling like something is pricking at your ass, but the kitchen counter and the way he’s keeping you held against it leave you with limited escape routes. 

Kaji licks the indentations his teeth made on your cheek, a low growl erupting from his throat.

Fuck, he wouldn’t call himself an ass worshipper, but he’d be willing to drop to his knees and press his forehead against the filthy ground on the street to pay homage to yours. 

Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad Baby, put it on me I like it just like that

“Kaji, that hurt!”

The benefit of you being unable to hear is that Kaji doesn’t have to answer you. If he did, you’d probably hate the answer. A monotone “Good” from him would probably warrant an attitude from you. And he doesn’t want attitude—at least not at this moment—he just wants a well-intentioned taste. 

You gasp as he presses his face into your sex, nose nudging against your folds, inhaling all of you. His mouth is watering as his tongue licks up and down your already wet slit, your slick sticking to your folds in the way fresh honey sticks to a honeycomb. His fingers spread your cunt open, eyeing the way you already dribble like a slut for him.

Your eyes roll back as he delivers a peck to your pussy, then a longer kiss until his mouth forms in an opened-mouth make-out session with her, not being liberal with the use of his tongue. You begin to press yourself back onto his mouth, daring his tongue to be even deeper. And Kaji doesn’t fight you; you give a silent thanks that he’s allowing you to fuck his tongue. 

He brings his hand between your thighs, allowing the palm of his hand to rub against your clit as you bounce back on his face.

“You’re so messy,” he growls into your cunt as your slick drips down his chin and drenches his palm. And it’s the god-honest truth; your cunt is dripping, hot, wet, thick, and languid, coating his tongue and throat with your essence. You’re his favorite indulgence. When he has a sweet tooth, he doesn’t think of or crave candy; he thinks of you. 

As your cum cascades into his mouth, his tongue cleans up every inch of you, tongue sliding between your folds, over your clit, your clitoral hood, and even your inner thighs. By the time he considers it a job well done, you’re glistening in his saliva more so than your cum. 

Wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, he rises again to take his place pressed against your back.

“K-Kaji,” your moan is desperate as you press your ass against his crotch. “Need you so bad, baby!”

Kaji can’t help but keep his eyes on you as your head falls back to rest on his shoulder. You don’t realize how loud you’re being with the music playing in your ears, but he desperately hopes the neighbors can hear every single thing you yell. 

Each gasp and moan leaving your lips has him throbbing, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes travel down to your neck, watching you swallow so thickly, eyes pooling with desperation and pleading to have him, him, him.

He hikes one of your legs onto the counter, forcing you to knock over some of the produce you were planning to use for dinner. 

He’s not very patient, even in moments where he wants to savor you; he’s his own worst enemy and too eager to feel you around him. He’s already stretching your cunt apart with the head of his dick, and you lean over to give him a better angle. 

Kaji, ever the appreciative one, bottoms out immediately, stretching your hole to the thickest part of him.  

With each jerk of his hips, the headphones shift until they clatter onto the counter in front of you. The sounds you were unable to hear before overwhelm your senses immediately. You catch the end of Kaji sputtering your name so loudly that you’re surprised you didn’t hear him over the music.

“Fuck, why are you so messy?” He rasps out, breath shakey and labored not from exertion but from simply being so consumed by his desire for you he can’t help but suck in too much oxygen. 

“M-maybe it’s the way you just slobbered on my pussy?”

“Oh, god. There’s that fucking mouth. Headphones must be off.” You earn another smack to your ass and the quickening of his ruts into your sopping cunt. “Like you better when you’re too busy moaning like a slut to be a brat.”

You practically mewl in appreciation of being called a slut and a brat in the same sentence.

“Yeah, look at ya squeezing me tight, brat. Jerkin’ me off with your needy pussy.”

You bury your face into the crook of your elbow, moaning and face heating up because he’s fucking right; your pussy is wringing him, hoping to coax every last drop of his cum out of his balls.

Kaji hisses. Without warning, your cunt clamps down onto him, halting his rutting, “Fuck, pretty girl. Already?”

You whine because, really, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He should be praising you for holding on this long.

As your clenching stops, he has a bit more clearance to continue his thrusts, bottoming out into your tight, orgasming sex. The wet, squelching sound your pussy makes as Kaji hilts you are loud,  filthy, lewd, practically sounding of nothing but sin. He can’t help but think, “like those songs she likes,” as he whimpers at the thought.

“Fuck, well, I’m glad you’re feeling good. Gonna let me cum now?” He’s teasing you because, of course, he can cum. You aren’t stopping him—the more the fucking merrier. You try to utter precisely that, but he juts his hips sharply, knowing you were going to say something with that smart-ass mouth of yours, the tip of his dick drilling against your g-spot.

Your nails scrape against the counter, trying to grip and claw at something. “K-kaji, I’m…!”

You bite your lip, that all-too-familiar tightening overtaking you until it bursts, and another orgasm rips through you. 

Kaji groans and pulls out with urgency because there’s something he has to do. Call it a compulsion or whatever label you want to assign to it, but it’s something he’s compelled to do to you when the urge to cum inside doesn’t sway him.

He spreads your labia with his thumb, butterflying your pretty pussy for him. He’s giving himself solid pumps with his free hand, eyes never leaving your ass, loving the way it looks sticking out like this for him. He gasps, his moan raspy but so deliciously loud. “Fuck, fuck, fuck here it c-comes!”

His cum shoots out, splattering all over your waiting hole until it’s so covered by his thick, white seed that he can’t see your opening anymore. And the final part of the ritual? Smearing it all over your folds, the fleshy pink of you, and pushing it back in with the tip of his dick for good measure.

“What even is that fetish called?” you mumble.

“I don’t have a fetish. I just like doing…this.” He can’t tear his eyes away at how pretty she looks, covered in white.

He finally places a kiss on the back of your neck, his hand reaching around your fucked out and bent over form to grasp his headphones. “Forget cooking. Let’s order in.”

And maybe after this romp in the kitchen, you both had inadvertently conditioned yourselves to use certain songs to initiate sex. His dick automatically hardening when you play songs that bring him back to the moment in the kitchen, and him placing the headphones over your ears as he fucks you to the same music that celebrates getting your back blown out.

[sugardollcurse]

may i request any headcanons of the boys with an s/o who's a novelist (a paperback writerrrrr 📚📚)? like a professional, agatha christie / stephen king level of fame writer??

𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟

𐙚 note ; you’re feeding me gourmet with this one. I YEARN FOR THIS TO BE ME!! anyway here’s your big fat author/beatle brainrot platter xx

𓆩🕊️ john 𓆪

"You’re fucked in the head, love. Proper bent. It’s brilliant. No, I mean it!"

He reads everything you write.

Not always in the right order. Not always fully awake. Often drunk.

But he reads it and then won’t stop quoting you at breakfast like

“Y’wrote, ‘her mouth bloomed red as a crushed hibiscus.’ What the fuck’s a hibiscus?"

Calls your books “brain films.” Always pestering you to explain the weird bits, then getting mad when you do.

“Ugh no, don’t say it was metaphorical! It’s better when it’s fuckin’ spooky!”

Doodles potential book covers for you. Usually gruesome or obscene.

You’re like “this is a love story, John.”

He’s like “yeah, and love is fucked, so here’s a bleeding heart on fire.”

If someone ever disses your work in the press, he will threaten to mail them dogshit.

Did it once. He’s not proud, but he’s not sorry.

Tells people you’re smarter than him. Brags about it.

“They've got the brain, I’m just the dickhead with a guitar.”

He means it. Loves it.

𓆩🕊️ paul 𓆪

"Y’know, I told John... I told him, you've got that mad brain. Mad in a good way. Real twisty. It’s lovely, isn’t it?

He absolutely carries your books around with the title facing out like a proud mum with a school prize ribbon.

Always in his jacket pocket, signed of course, and he’s probably asked you to dedicate one to Paul, who gets to hear the saucy bits first.

Reads your work out loud to himself, dramatic voices and all. Adds his own little sound effects.

"BANG! And then she bloody caved his head in-oh, love, this bit’s ace.”

Calls you “me little paperback writer” constantly.

Never your name anymore. Even on the post-it notes he leaves on the kettle.

Will not shut up about you in interviews.

If you’re doing a signing, he will be there in sunglasses and a hat, pretending to be some rando fan, then causing a scene like,

“Oi! I shagged the author!”

Smug bastard.

Can’t stop smirking whenever he sees someone reading your book on the tube.

Has a whole catalogued mental list of all the weirdest places he’s caught someone flipping your pages.

𓆩🕊️ george 𓆪

"I think it’s dead great, y’know, that you do all that with words. All that twisty mind stuff.

Devours your work. Reads slowly, thoughtfully, with a pencil in hand like he’s going to take notes on every metaphor.

His copies are dog-eared, underlined, highlighted.

Brings your books to the studio. Not for clout, just to have you close.

Opens to a favourite passage when he’s stuck on a lyric.

Says your writing is like music.

“It’s got rhythm, y’know? I can hear it.”

Likes watching you work. Sits across the room and just stares at you for hours while you’re typing.

You’re like “can I help you?” and he’s just smiling, shaking his head. “You’re making a whole world in there.”

He’s quiet about his pride but fierce. If someone talks over you in a panel or interview, he’ll pull them aside later and say things.

Very softly. Very firmly. They don’t do it again.

Asks thoughtful questions. Wants to know where your ideas come from.

Begs to write the score if one of your novels gets adapted into a film.

Gets way too into it.

Ruffles your hair after you meet a deadline. Calls you “my little storyteller” when you’re half-asleep on his chest. Makes you feel mythical.

𓆩🕊️ ringo 𓆪

"I dunno how y’do it, love. I can barely write a postcard. And there you are makin’ murder mysteries with Latin quotes. Fuckin’ hell."

Ringo’s your biggest hype man.

Brings your books everywhere.

Bar. Plane. Dentist.

He reads slow but with real heart.

Laughs out loud when something’s funny.

Gasps when a character dies.

He’s just really dramatic about it, basically.

Asks if he’s ever gonna be in one. “Y’could kill me off! I’d like that. Poisoned by me own drumsticks. Classic.”

Keeps your headshot from the back of your book on the fridge.

Kissed the corner once and claimed it was a joke. It wasn’t.

Once tried to write a page of his own as a surprise. It was mostly swear words and a lot of spelling errors. You loved it anyway.

If you ever have a book tour, he comes to every event he can.

Front row.

Buys his own copy from the shop like a fanboy.

His favourite thing is when you read him drafts at night. Lies in bed, hands behind his head, eyes half-closed. “Tell me a story, love.”

Thinks you’re a genius. Like, genuinely.

Makes it sound like the highest compliment in the world.

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee, @alanangels

[cottonlemonade]

I'd love a small Lemonade with pineapple flavor, and pomegranate seeds for Daichi and me. Thank you for doing this, it's so cool!!!

Accidental Confession

word count: 901 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Daichi x chubby!Reader (feat. Suga)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, accidental confession with pining friend Daichi

“Alright, tell me if this is bad.”

Suga nodded and crossed his arms, watching expectantly as his best friend squared his shoulders and, after clearing his throat, said, “I really like you. Please be my girlfriend.”

Daichi waited. So did Suga.

And then the setter frowned in pity. “Two weeks of prep and that’s what you came up with?”

With a tired sigh Daichi rubbed the back of neck, “Why shouldn’t I keep it simple?”

“Because that was lukewarm at best.”

“I thought it was heartfelt.”, the captain murmured and plopped down on the empty swing next to his friend. It was still pretty early in the evening, but the neighborhood playground was already deserted.

“First, I would lose the “really like”. I dare say, a steady three-year obsession with her warrants “love”. Second, why don’t you add a bit more… more? Tell her why you like her. Why you want her to be your girlfriend and so on. Girls love that kind of stuff.”

Daichi regarded his painfully single friend and bit back a comment.

“I know what you’re thinking.”, Suga raised his hands in defense, “But you know what they say. Those who can’t do, teach. Now. Once again with feeling.”

Somehow this one was worse than the first. Suga shook his head thoughtfully and focused on a crow hopping back and forth on a bench nearby.

“Maybe a bit of roleplay might help.”, he suggested, “Let me get into character.“

“Is this really necessary?“, Daichi asked with a skeptical frown.

“Would you have gone out with yourself after that confession?“

Daichi cleared his throat again and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Fine. What do you have in mind?”

And so the two boys practiced. Suga suggested trying different approaches, just to see which “genre” of confession would suit his best friend the most. Their rehearsal went on for so long that there was even a snack break at the convenience store involved. Daichi checked his watch, one hand holding onto the chain of the swing as he kept the hot yakisoba bun tucked between his lips. He still had a good 20 minutes until you were supposed to meet him.

“I think the last one wasn’t so bad.”, Suga said, slowly swinging back and forth and racking his brain for ideas of improvement, “Let’s try that one again, but try to be a bit more confident. Like you’re sure she will go out with you.”

“But I’m not.”

“Fake it til you make it.”, Suga shrugged and jumped up, rummaging in the plastic bag of snacks for props. When he turned around to face his friend for a final run through he had stuffed the two melon breads they bought under his shirt.

It was hard for Daichi to keep a straight face this time. He kept blushing as Suga meanwhile gave the performance of a lifetime.

“Go on, tell me you love me.”, Suga urged.

“I… I love you.”, Daichi repeated and then went on, “Every day you’re what I look most forward to about school.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”, Suga gave him a thumbs up. Daichi was on a roll.

“You’re smart and funny, not to mention beautiful. - I also still can’t get over how easily you can control the first years. And even though it took me way too long to get here, I don’t want to graduate without letting you know how I feel.”

“You know, now would be a great time for a kiss.”

The gray haired boy leaned forward with a superior smirk, fully intending to catch Daichi off guard and maybe push him backwards off the swing in the process.

“Oh! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. I- congratulations!”

“Y/n!”

Daichi almost stumbled as he tried to untangle himself from the swing and took a few steps towards you.

With tentative movements, Suga fished the two bread rolls out of his shirt. To underline his uninvolvement he opened one of the packages and innocently nibbled on the soft bun, pretending to look anywhere but you two.

“I’m happy for you.”, you said quickly, “And don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Although, I am a bit confused why you called me here.”

“Y/n.”, Daichi tried to cut in, but you were on caught up in your nervous ramblings.

“It was really pretty. Your confession, I mean. I should have known you liked him. You’re always together and seem so close.”

“Y/n.”, he tried again.

“But then again, I feel like that shouldn’t necessarily be an indicator for romantic love. I mean, you and me are close, and you obviously don’t feel that way about me. And men should be allowed to be close to each other without immediately having people think that-“

“Y/n!” Daichi put his hands on either side of your face and squished your chubby cheeks to make you stop. Your mouth turned into a kind of fishy gape.

“Sorry.”, you muttered.

“Suga was you.”

“Huh?”

He squished your face a little tighter, making you meet his eyes.

“I was practicing my confession for you.”

“Oh? Oh!”

He let you go and took a step back, patiently watching you put the pieces together.

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he looked to the canopy of a tree overhead. “Do you… want me to say it all again?”

a/n: thank you very much for the request! I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Why Spell Check (and some grammar check) isn't AI

So I've seen in the wake of Nanowrimo some people claim that spell check is AI and thus is like Gen AI, and I saw the claim originator on Twitter, but when I pressed them, they basically tried to say they had a degree in computer science, so when I pressed into them if they knew what they were talking about, they couldn't answer because obviously don't know about AI.

For some background I've done some light programming (If you look at the Korean name generator, that's all me). And I also have relatives that did programming.

Here, I can lay out how spell check works without AI or a fancy algorithm.

The oldest spellchecks didn't use AI or Gen AI, they used what is your basic corresponding tables.

If you use something like google sheets (database), you can do this pretty quickly yourself though with a lot of manpower.

Here is a list of commonly misspelled words.

Add that with another table with how they are commonly misspelled.

Then you need a table with "common typos"

Then you need one more table for "Words the user adds."

The algorithm is basically this: Set up a loop. A loop is a mechanism that has an algorithm (or set of instructions in it) which repeats until a certain instruction is met. This loop with this algorithm will check for words. In this case, anything with letters, usually encompassing ' and - (though some programs ignore dashes).

So[,][ ]it[ ]will[ ]look[ ]at[ ]letters[ ]in[ ]this[ ]sentence[ ]and[ ]figure[ ]out[ ]if[ ]it[ ]is[ ]spelled[ ]correctly.

The first loop in the previous sentence will look at the word "so" by selecting everything it knows to be a letter in English. Tada "S, o" Then correspond that to the dictionary. So shows up in the dictionary listing it has of English words. Thanks Webster. (If you're British, the OED)

The Algorithm concludes the word is spelled correctly. No more work needs to be done on So. The next word is it "i, t" correspond that to the dictionary and so on.

If you have a "bad word" for example "alot" then the work is, word is spelled incorrectly. Next "work to be done" is to find out if this word is in the "commonly misspelled" words list. If yes, then underline the word in red to get it corrected.

AKA run Algorithm to underline word (usually a few lines of code if you're doing it the old way).

Then the algorithm moves on. The function of right click/Cntrl click is saying, OK, this word, "alot" is it commonly misspelled? Here are a list of corrections according to this other table. This is the work that needs to be done: We need a popup table. We need to pull from the database this misspelling, and then we need to pull from this other database and pull corresponding correct spellings based on this. Then you set up an if-then If the user clicks on this word, change highlighted word.

This is your basic spelling algorithm. You do not need gen AI for this or AI.

Grammar works similarly. You need a table, the type of speech it is (n, v, adv, adj) and then to load in "rules" one should use. You do not need AI. You need some basic programming skills. On the table of somewhere between "Hello, world" (1) and "OMG, I created artificial intelligence like Data " (10) My "Korean name generator" is like 2.5? in difficulty (minus all of the language and cultural knowledge). Haha. Still mocking myself. But a Spellcheck is not far from that. it is like 3. You could build one fairly easily with PHP and database access to a dictionary and misspelled words with corrections.

But Google pulled from the Enron Emails.

In this case, you can sorta fuzzy logic it and create bigger algorithms, mostly to sort out the *grammar* and *New words* that were used that aren't already in the database, which basically is another loop, but with an add to database function. (i.e. table). Then you would correspond this with another loop to look at "odd grammar" and flag it.

You can use AI to sort it faster than a basic algorithm, but nope, you do not need AI to correspond it. A basic algorithm would do. You can also use AI for "words that look similar to this one" and "Words commonly used in place of this one"

But overall, You do not need AI for a grammar check. You only need a dictionary, a set of commonly held rules of English and exceptions (maybe some Noam Chomsky, though he's controversial), and then some programming skill to get past the hurdle.

But Grammar check could use AI

AI as it stands is basically a large algorithm to match large datasets to the words you use. But the problem is that the datasets are taken from users who did not volunteer to put in that information.

It is not Data on Enterprise have novel experiences of every day and learning how to function in the human world by processing it through a matrix of quantum computing.

So WHEN grammar check does use AI, the AI is mostly doing the crunching of the corresponding the information into a more neat table option, as I understand it. It is not the same thing as Gen AI or your average spell check and Microsoft algorithm from say 2000.

Those are not equal things. Instead, adding Gen AI to say, Microsoft Word, is more like stealing your words for the machine (which BTW, Microsoft absolutely did and you need to transfer out to Anti-AI programs/Apps.) and corresponding them for Gen AI future use for people who can't write worth a damn, and then "averaging" it out. Elew. Who wants to write to the average? That's anti-Creative.

And just because it uses an Algorithm, doesn't automatically use AI.

Look, I can write a algorithm now:

Loop: If you want to be strong...

Go outside.

Do cardio.

Go lift weights.

Make sure you eat a healthy diet and balanced which includes reducing refined sugars and do not eat bad fats.

That equally is a set of instructions, but that's not automatically AI.

I programmed my calculator to spit out the quadratic formula. And this isn't even officially programming, this is a script. Dudes, if you're going to call that AI, then you need help with learning computer programming.

The threshold for making AI v spellcheck is a lot, lot higher programming than a set of simple tables and a loop that looks for letters and spaces corresponding it to an existing dictionary. If that's you're threshold for AI, then when you type words, you are caught in an algorithm. Ooooooo... OMG, when you pull up a dictionary to spellcheck yourself, that's AI. C'mon. The threshold is a might higher to make AI or "victim of algorithm" as in Twitter.

So anytime someone says, "All Spellcheck uses genAI/AI" Laugh in their faces and say no. 'cause like, I'm a terrible programmer, and even I'm like, Meh, not that hard to set up spell check, give me a solid dictionary database and I'll do ya.

That said, A human will beat AI on grammar anytime and will be able to sort weird spellings faster and A-OK, or not.

[wonniesdoll]

locked up - yjw

MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.

- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)

- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.

-

warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on

umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!

also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!

it starts here!

an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.

finally.

the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.

specifically designed to deny you pleasure.

"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.

"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.

"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.

you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.

"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.

Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.

"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"

his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.

"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.

"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.

so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.

you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.

your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.

that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.

"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.

he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.

"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.

"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.

you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.

your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.

yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.

upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.

that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.

the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.

you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.

"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.

"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.

"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.

one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.

"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.

he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.

"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.

"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.

his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.

he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.

your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.

"please?" you plead innocently.

fuck.

fuck.

Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.

but he didn't. he wouldn't.

"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.

Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.

your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.

you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.

The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.

"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.

you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.

a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.

you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.

the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.

jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..

it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.

you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.

"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.

you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.

with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.

you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.

you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.

"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.

there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.

Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.

"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.

the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.

he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.

and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.

your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.

you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."

you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.

Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.

you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.

he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.

his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.

you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.

"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?

Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.

the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.

he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.

you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.

"are you ready for me, baby..?"

2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

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*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Improve your Writing

Rick Riordan's Writing Tips

Rick Riordan:

Taste is subjective, and opinions differ about what "good writing" looks like. Most of us have read a bestseller or two and wondered, "How did this thing get published?" Nevertheless, I would argue that most work does not get published unless it demonstrates a certain level of technical competence. The grammar is correct. The prose is readable. I would further argue that most manuscripts are rejected because the writing is not technically competent. The manuscript never stands a chance because the writer simply doesn't know the craft of writing well enough. If you write well, you have already set yourself apart from 99% of what agents and editors see every day. Below are some notes on what I call "sentence level competence" — the ability to craft prose at the most basic level. These tips reflect the most common problems I've observed in unpublished manuscripts.

Sentence-Level Competence

Sentence focus — the subjects of all clauses should be appropriate to the content of the sentence.

Favor the concrete over the abstract, the antecedent over the pronoun.

Example: It was a sunny day. (the subject "it" is boring and vague.)

Better: The sky was brilliant blue. (Here the subject is sky, which is what the sentence was supposed to be about.)

If you are writing a sentence about a guy named Fred, the subject in the sentence should be (surprise!) Fred.

Exercise

Go through a page of prose and underline your own subjects.

How many are abstract?

How many of your sentences are truly focused?

Modifiers

Be sure the modifier refers to the right thing.

The modifier should refer to the closest noun.

Confusing modifiers will trip up the reader, consciously or subconsciously.

By the same token, pronouns should have clear antecedents.

Always place the modifier as close to the subject as possible.

Example: Can you help other writers who are writing books like me? (I got this question recently. I understand what the person is saying, but 'like me' follows the word 'books' so he is implying, without meaning to, that there are people producing books that look like him.)

Better: Can you help other writers like me who are writing books?

Exercise

Color-code a page of your manuscript, making each phrase and clause a different color.

Match up dependent clauses and phrases with their modifiers.

Avoid getting your modifier too far away from the thing being modified.

Deft Description

Choose your details carefully.

A description should be vivid, but surgically precise.

The detail must be given for a reason, and have a logical connection to the plot or advancement of character.

Avoid long "grocery lists" of details.

For a paragraph-length description, offer a uniting theme — an extended metaphor — to give the details cohesion.

Example: He was six feet tall, three hundred pounds, with brown hair, small brown eyes, a big nose and big fists. He wore jeans and a muscle shirt. He looked angry. (this is way too much description for the reader to keep track of, and it is offered as a random list)

Better: He looked like a rhino, ready to charge. (then you can pick a few details that reinforce the image of a rhino)

Exercise

Go through a chapter and delete all adjectives and adverbs.

Read through, then add some back in sparingly.

You may find you can do with less than before.

Parallelism

Clauses or phrases that are part of a list should be similar in structure.

Unparallel constructions are awkward and difficult to read, even if the reader can't put her finger on the exact problem.

Example: He likes dogs, hiking in the woods and reads books a lot. (Dogs is a single noun, hiking in the woods is a participial phrase, reads books a lot is a simple predicate. These are all totally different things. Make them the same, and the sentence will flow much better.)

Better: He likes walking his dog, hiking in the woods, and reading lots of books.

Exercise

Try constructing your descriptions in parallel units — absolutes, infinitives, adjectives.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References