#LOOK AT THEIR FACES INSTEAD THAT WAS THE POINT

[authorhjk1]

[JUX-794] Mischievous teacher Kang Seulgi, after school ganbang! 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!

[okwonyo]

COLOGNE, 或──── clingy boyfriends.

❛ 𝗂’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄.

1THOU&2HUN 𓈒𓈒 日语 ⠀ ╱ fem!rea ⌕ fluff non idol au ──dis. skinship kissing と ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 𝖣𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖱 𝖬𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖱𝖤𝖤 🎀

reblogs ˊᗜˋ +feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG

it always happens when he is half asleep— in the middle of the night especially.

he loves to lock you in his arms before he dozes off. his strong arms wrapped around you while you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

and he hates, he loathes, when you move away from him. he hates when you take your warmth away from him to go somewhere else. he whines whenever you do, “are you trying to kill me?”

he holds your wrist from his comfortable position on the mattress. “‘m thirsty,” you whisper as he scratches his eye. “i will be back in a few seconds, hee,” he nods, although his grip gets tighter.

your first mistake was to think that he was going to stay in bed alone. although you assure him that you are coming back, he gets out of bed and follows you to the kitchen.

the much taller and more muscular man holds your hand to not stumble over anything.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAY

he never says it. he is not the type to use too many words, especially when it comes to things like this.

action over words, as always, he catches you by the waist as you pass by him. comfortably sat on the sofa, he pulls you on his laps and you barely budge— eyes fixed on your phone.

he puts his chin on your shoulder. not even to look at your phone but at you. he tightens the embrace around your waist as the shape of your side profile gets engraved in his mind for the ninth time.

you still don’t give him enough attention, however. and it makes him a little sad, even more needy, ten times more touchy.

instead of using words, as anyone else would do, he puts his cheek against yours. like a cat turned into a man, he rubs his skin against yours sweetly.

it makes you giggle after a bit. you put your phone to the side and turn around to kiss while he falls to the side.

JAKE

he is always clingy. he is the epitome of the boyfriend who never leaves you alone. you are always touching each other in a way: either by standing close, holding hands or hugging.

his clinginess did get to you at some point of the relationship.

you are not really the type to reach out first, in public at least. but if he does, you let him, no matter where you are.

“sorry if i am too clingy, my love,” he tells you against your shoulder. he gave you a bear hug whereupon you were talking with your friends a few minutes ago and never moved. “my heart was screaming for you all day.”

you pat his head, cradling your fingers in his hair. he hums tenderly as you speak, “it’s okay, baby,” you chuckle. you turn your head slightly towards him, kissing his cheek before continuing whispering, forgetting your friends, “i missed you too.”

he stays silent for a moment as you still play with his hair. after a moment, he starts to leave wet kisses on your cheeks. again and again.

SUNGHOON

“oh my god,” you say. the way your boyfriend looks at you while walking in the living room tells you everything you need to know. he looks at you in the way he does when he wants. “get away from me.”

when your lover wants, it means that he wants you. in his arms, laying on his chest or him laying on yours. under the warm covers or on the sofa. it means he gets clingy, it means he just manhandles you wherever.

“hi, sweetheart,” he greets you with a soft voice. your heart melts, despise the words you spoke a minute ago.

he leans in, aiming from you who lays down prettily on the sofa, chasing after your delicious lips. you hug his neck and he takes it as an opportunity to lean back up. sliding his arm around your back strongly, he presses you against himself.

“i want cuddles,” he tells you against your lips. he tells you in a sigh, desperate and needy.

you hum. “do your thing, big boy,” and he gets up, picking you up in the process. you hug his waist with your legs as he walks to the bedroom.

SUNOO

you knew it. from the moment his eyes locked with yours, with his stupid smile, you knew it wasn’t going to be just one kiss.

it has been maybe more than one hundred kisses by now. but his hand on the back of your neck keeps you in place. alongside with his tongue swiftly dancing in your mouth.

he pinned you against the wall as soon as you finished getting ready. he is ruining your makeup but you don’t have enough strength to walk away from that.

whenever he pulls away to catch a bit of air or change angle, you whisper, “i really have to go,” before kissing him back when he comes back.

to which he responds by rubbing the back of your skin with his thumb and smile, “stay with me for a while, baby,” he pleads in your mouth. “i don’t want you to leave,”

and you give in. from their comfortable position on his waist, you put your hands up and wrap your arms around his neck. he aims for your waist and pulls you close.

JUNGWON

when he gets clingy, sometimes, he just gets a little bit more annoying that he already is. he pinches your sides, slides his cold hand under your shirt, pokes your cheek. anything to get your attention.

but more times than not, he can be less annoying and much more touchy— in a loving way.

“god, i missed you like crazy,” he mumbles as he hurriedly walks toward you. he hugs you quickly after you take off your shoes. “i feel like it has been a lifetime since i saw you.”

you giggle— he has been like this all day. his nose hides in your neck while you pat his back gently, “i was out for an hour, won,”

his embrace tightens around you. he readjusts his his head’s position, “it felt like a million years,” he groans. “never do that to me again.”

you pat his head gently, “i’m here baby,” you whisper. “let’s go cuddle for the next hours, mh?” he nods.

RIKI

neither of you know how it started. but, he grew to be really hopeless without you around, to the extent where it is actually pretty funny.

your boyfriend follows you everywhere you go, without exception. wherever you are, anyone can assume that a tall man is not far away from you.

and said tall man can get even worse when he loses sight of you for a minute.

“you are such a duck,” you tell him in a chuckle. your voice is pretty quiet, but he is so close that he doesn’t need you to speak louder. as much as he can’t act like he didn’t hear. “i’m not going to disappear.”

his arm presses against yours even more as he looks down, “can’t a boy wish to be one with the girl he loves?” he tells you as you walk towards the next clothes hallway.

“you are almost walking on my feet,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder against his to push him away a little.

he stumbles away for ten seconds and comes back, draping his arm on your shoulder, “don’t go away from me!”

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[rafesangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[leona-hawthorne]

FICMAS #7— WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? / theodore nott

december 22nd

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: theo is smart, but he’s an idiot when it comes to taking hints. sometimes, you have to just give it to him.

warnings: smut, unprotected piv, oral m!receiving, google translated italian (sorry in advance)

words: 2.7k

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Theo had this way of existing—effortless, detached, like gravity bent to his whims. He lounged against the headboard, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. You were convinced he didn’t even like smoking; he just enjoyed the ritual, the way it made his hands look purposeful.

The dorm was dim, the only light spilling from the bedside lamps. Everyone else was sprawled across the furniture, engaged in half-hearted conversations about Quidditch or the latest rumors circulating the castle. But your focus was locked on Theo. Always Theo.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, his lips curving into a smirk as he caught your gaze. His voice was low, teasing, pulling at some invisible thread in your chest.

“What look?” you shot back, tilting your head and feigning innocence.

He chuckled, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. He took a drag of his cigarette and passed it to you without a word. You accepted it, your fingers brushing his. The fleeting contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with a casual exhale of smoke.

“So, what’s the topic tonight?” you asked, your tone light.

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘topic.’”

“I mean, what bullshit are we debating? Everyone’s always got something to say about something.”

He glanced around the room, noting the fragmented conversations, before turning back to you. “I think we’re safe to create our own.”

“Fine,” you said, handing the cigarette back to him. “What’s your type?”

Theo blinked, caught off guard. “My type?”

“Yeah. You know, what you look for in someone. Or are you too much of a brooding intellectual to care about such trivial matters?”

His smirk returned, sharper this time. “I’ll have you know I’m very discerning.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, I want to know.”

He hesitated, the cigarette poised between his lips. “I don’t know. I guess someone who can hold their own. Smart, independent. Doesn’t take my shit.”

You snorted. “So, basically, someone who’s not a doormat.”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, shrugging. “What about you? What’s your type?”

You took a moment, pretending to ponder, even though the answer was sitting right next to you. “I’ve always thought intelligence is sexy. Like, really sexy. Bonus points if they speak another language.”

Theo glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s so great about that?”

“It’s just impressive,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “Shows effort, you know? And…” You trailed off, letting the tension hang for a beat. “I’ve always been a sucker for blue eyes.”

His expression didn’t shift, but you could see the gears turning in his head. “Interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, your tone light but your gaze steady. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, you thought he might finally connect the dots. Instead, he leaned back, as if dismissing the comment entirely.

“What about personality?” he asked, like you hadn’t just described him to a T.

You sighed, exasperated. “Theo.”

“What?” he said, his voice full of feigned innocence.

“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered, grabbing his wrist and yanking him to his feet. The room barely registered the two of you leaving; everyone else was too absorbed in their own conversations.

Theo followed you into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

You turned to face him, your back against the door. “You’re supposed to be smart.”

“I am smart,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Then why are you so bloody dense?” you asked, stepping closer. He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on yours, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Am I?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Oh, you absolutely are,” you said, your hands finding the front of his shirt. “But I think I can help with that.”

The realization finally dawned on him, and his smirk widened. “Well, by all means, love. Enlighten me.”

You didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, you tugged him down by his collar and crashed your lips against his. Theo responded immediately, his hands bracing on your hips as he pressed you back against the door. The kiss was heated, messy, all teeth and desperation. You’d been waiting for this, and judging by the way his grip tightened, so had he.

“You’re insufferable,” you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“And yet you’re all over me,” he shot back, his tone smug. Before you could retort, his mouth was on yours again, silencing any comeback you might have had.

Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Theo barely gave you a moment to breathe before he was on you again, his lips trailing down your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your head tipping back against the door.

“I think I like it when you’re annoyed,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“Shut up,” you managed, but the words lacked any real venom. Your hands roamed over his chest, mapping out the planes of muscle and the scatter of freckles across his skin. He was impossibly warm, and you couldn’t get enough.

Theo’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers skimming over your bare skin. You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as he pulled the fabric up and off. His gaze darkened as he took you in, his lips parting slightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands settling on your waist. “Così dannatamente carino.” (So fucking pretty.)

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to feel self-conscious. Theo’s mouth was on you again, his kisses trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. Every touch, every movement felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Theo,” you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intent.

Theo didn’t hesitate this time. His lips found yours again, hot and desperate, his hands roaming up your sides and pulling you against him like he needed you closer just to breathe. The counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care, not when his kisses were this consuming, his tongue brushing yours and leaving your head spinning.

But you’d waited long enough for him to figure this out, and patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit. You broke the kiss, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Why’d it take so long for you to figure this one out, hm?”

His smirk reappeared, lazy and infuriating as his hands settled on your hips. “Maybe I just like taking my time.”

You huffed, turning him around so his back was now pressed against the counter. “Then let me spell it out for you,” you said, your fingers already moving to the buckle of his belt.

Theo’s breath hitched, his smirk faltering as you pulled the leather strap free and let it fall to the floor with a soft clink. Your fingers worked quickly, unfastening the button and zipper of his trousers, and when you pushed them down his hips, the tent in his boxers told you everything you needed to know.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him as he stared down at you. “You’re not messing around, are you?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said, dropping to your knees in front of him.

You tugged his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, hard and flushed and already leaking at the tip. Theo let out a sharp exhale, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter harder. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you wrapped a hand around him, giving a slow, deliberate stroke.

“Still confused?” you asked, smirking when his hips twitched at your touch.

“Not even a little,” he said, his voice rough and tight.

You didn’t give him time to say more. Leaning in, you flicked your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there before taking him into your mouth. The groan that tore from his throat was low and guttural, his head tipping back to rest against the mirror.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations drawing another string of curses from his lips. Your hand worked the base of his cock in tandem with your mouth, your pace slow at first, teasing, before you gradually increased the intensity. His breathing grew heavier, his hips jerking slightly as you set a rhythm that had him unraveling beneath your touch.

“Shit,” he groaned, his voice breaking on the word. “You—God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

His praise spurred you on, your free hand sliding up his thigh to steady him as you took him deeper. He was losing control, his grip in your hair tightening, his moans turning into something desperate and raw.

“Fuck—” His hips bucked as his head fell forward, and he looked down at you with wide, blown pupils. “I’m—shit, I’m close.”

You didn’t stop. If anything, you doubled down, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock as you took him all the way to the back of your throat. That was all it took. With a sharp cry, his body tensed, and he spilled into your mouth, a broken groan tearing from his lips as he came undone.

You swallowed, pulling back slowly and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Theo’s chest was heaving, his hair a tousled mess as he leaned heavily against the counter, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “You’re insane.”

You stood, smirking as you leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

He grabbed your hips in one quick motion, lifting you onto the counter like you weighed nothing. “Oh, I’ve figured it out now,” he murmured, his voice still rough, but his smirk returning full force. “But I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Theo’s hands gripped your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his mouth crashing into yours. The kiss was frantic, his tongue brushing against yours as he poured every ounce of leftover tension into it. His hands wandered, sliding up your bare back, fingers tracing the curve of your spine before tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.  

“You’re too fucking good at this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice low and thick. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”  

“Maybe,” you teased, your voice breathless as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.  

He chuckled darkly, nipping at the corner of your jaw before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”  

“Pretty sure I am,” you quipped, your hands threading through his hair.  

Theo groaned, his lips dragging over your collarbone. His hands skimmed your sides, his thumbs brushing under the waistband of your jeans. “We’ll see how clever you are when you’re begging me to let you cum.”  

Before you could retort, he lifted and spun you around in one swift motion, your palms landing on the counter as he pressed your hips into the sink. You gasped, his chest flush against your back as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear.  

“Guarda te stessa,” he murmured, his tone dripping with sin. (Look at yourself.)  

Your gaze lifted to the mirror, meeting your reflection. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen from his kisses, chest rising and falling rapidly. Behind you, Theo was watching you with hooded eyes, his hair mussed and his pupils blown with lust.  

“Sei bellissima così,” he said, his hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans. (You’re so beautiful like this.)  

He pushed the denim down your legs, letting it pool at your ankles, and you kicked them off the rest of the way. His hands found your hips again, sliding over the curve of your ass as his lips pressed to your neck.  

“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured, his fingers slipping between your thighs to brush over the damp fabric of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaking.”  

“Do something about it, then,” you shot back, your voice shaking slightly.  

Theo grinned, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear. “Impatient, aren’t we?” He dragged them down slowly, letting them join your jeans on the floor.  

His hand slid between your legs again, this time bare against your skin, and you gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, his touch teasing and deliberate.  

“Così stretto,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. (So tight.)  

You whimpered, pressing your hips back against him as he added a second finger, curling them just right. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he worked you open with slow, calculated strokes.  

“Merda, sei perfetta,” he said, his voice rough. (Fuck, you’re perfect.)  

You moaned, your head tipping forward, but he clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your chin to tilt your face back up.  

“Guarda il specchio,” he ordered. “Voglio vederti quando vengo dentro di te.” (Look in the mirror. I want to see you when I come inside you.)  

Sure, you didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but fuck, you couldn’t get enough of him talking to you like that. You didn’t fight against his hand, meeting his intense gaze in the mirror.  

Theo pulled his fingers away, and you heard the rustle of fabric as he kicked his trousers the rest of the way off. A moment later, his hands were on your hips again, guiding you back against him. You felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance, and he groaned, low and guttural, as he pushed inside.  

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he bottomed out. “You feel incredible.”  

Your hands braced against the counter as he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made your knees weak. He muttered something in Italian, his voice low and breathless, but you couldn’t make it out over the sound of your own moans.  

“Che puttana carina,” he said, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he snapped his hips harder. (What a pretty little slut.)  

You gasped, the words only spurring you on as you pushed back against him, meeting each thrust.  

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and teasing. “To be fucked like this?”  

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breaking as he hit a spot that had you seeing stars.  

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Take it all, bella. Sei mia.” (You’re mine.)  

His thrusts grew faster, harder, and the bathroom filled with the sound of skin against skin, mingled with your moans and his curses in both English and Italian. You caught snippets of his words—“così stretta”, “troppo perfetta”, “dammi tutto”—and each one sent a new wave of heat coursing through you.  (so tight, too perfect, give me everything)

Your legs trembled as the pressure built, your release teetering just out of reach. Theo seemed to sense it, one hand slipping between your thighs to circle your clit as he drove into you.  

“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Let me feel you.”  

His words sent you over the edge, your body shattering around him as a cry tore from your throat. Theo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you moments later, spilling into you with a shuddering moan.  

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the two of you leaning against the counter, spent and satisfied. Theo pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his tongue swirling over the skin and his hands roaming over your waist as he caught his breath.  

“You’re my type,” he muttered, his voice still rough but laced with affection.  

You smirked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I fuckin’ better be.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

[cutielando]

game night | l.n.

synopsis: in which game night gets a little too competitive

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

As the winter break finally came around, Lando had made plans for him, you, Max and Pietra to take a trip to the mountains, just the four of you.

Which is how you guys found yourselves nestled comfortably in a cabin deep into the Swiss mountains, chatting it up and just enjoying the quiet atmosphere that the off-season provided you with.

But, knowing Lando, he couldn’t stay still for more than an hour at times, and would always find something else to do.

Just like he did now.

“I’m bored” he had announced, groaning and throwing his head back against the couch.

You chuckled, knowing he would have said that sooner or later.

“So?” Max asked, looking up from his phone at his friend.

Lando was silent for a moment, contemplating about how he could cure his sudden found boredom.

“Let’s play a game or something” he suggested, his eyes lighting up.

"Like what?" you asked, your hands running through his curls softly.

He pondered for a moment, his eyes glancing around the cabin living room before his eyes landed on a shelf full of board games.

Not saying anything, he jumped up from his spot on the couch next to you, beelining for the shelf to analyze what he was working with.

"Let's play Monopoly" he said, his eyes twinkling as he took the box in his hands and rushing back to sit down next to you.

You, Max and P all groaned in unison, the last thing either of you wanted was to play Monopoly with Lando.

Lando stopped in his tracks, looking at the three of you with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked, his shoulders deflating.

"Mate, you know how you get whenever we play Monopoly" Max said, glaring at him.

He pouted, looking at you for support.

You bit your lip and shrugged, making him gasp.

"You too?" he asked, looking at you with a hand over his heart.

"Baby, I love you, but you know how competitive you get whenever we play" you said, trying to be as gentle and nice as possible.

"But I want to play..." he said, pouting and looking at the ground.

You sighed, shaking your head as you exchanged looks with Max. Both of you knew Lando was playing the both of you, wanting to make you feel bad for not wanting to let him play.

Max sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, we'll play" he muttered, making Lando erupt into a wide smile as he sprinted towards the coffee table to lay everything out.

You laughed at his antics, shaking your head fondly.

"I wanna team up with P" you called out as she took your hand.

Lando whipped his head around, staring at you with betrayal written all over his face.

"What? Why? We always team up together" he said, his eyes sad.

He almost made you change your mind, but flashbacks of past game nights with Lando made you stand firm.

"That's exactly why we should change things up a little bit" you argued, trying to keep his spirits up.

He pouted, glaring at you while setting up the board. He kept it up for a minute or two longer before he sighed and nodded.

"Fine, but just this time" he said, pointing to you.

You nodded and leaned over to kiss his lips quickly before you got and moved so you were sitting next to Pietra.

Lando huffed once again before he finally let go of his anger and instead focus on "discussing strategies" with Max.

As the night went on and the game was in full swing, Lando's competitive side slowly started to show itself when Max landed on one of your properties and had to pay you almost all the money they had.

"MAX! What the fuck, mate? You just walked right into their trap!" Lando shouted, pushing Max as he stared at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t control the fucking dice, now, can I?” Max argued back.

You and P, on the other hand, were trying not to laugh, finding the exchange between them too funny.

They continued to bicker like this until late into the night before you called it quits on the game.

Instead, you were now snuggled up on the couch with Lando, the fireplace doing a fantastic job of warming you up.

The world around you was silent, the only sound echoing through the warm cabin being the crackle of the fireplace.

Lando was staring at the crackling fire, his hand playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking down at you, he noticed that your eyes were shut, your breathing evened out as you peacefully slept on him.

Smiling a little, he pressed a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" as he let himself succumb to a peaceful sleep.

Dreaming of you.

...and beating you at Monopoly.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[valalice]

omg can we please get Christmas/holidays headcanons with older gf caitlyn as someone who never got anything growing up ☹️ because parents are YUCKYY and Caitlyn only just now finds out about it and is like "oh so thats a reason as to why youre still so reluctant to accept my gifts and stuff" and she comforts the us so much and SPOILS US ☹️☹️🙏 (also if you can include pet names where she's always saying 'my' like 'my sweet girl' 'my princess' 'my love/darling' 'my pretty girl' 'my girl' 'my babydoll' etc stuff like that 🙏 then that would be great THANK YOU)

❅ IS IT NEW YEARS YET ? ft. 𝓬𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓵𝔂𝓷 𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓷.

��� summary. your older girlfriend asks you to spend your first christmas together. of course you excitedly accept, trying to push ignore that you'd have to break this news to your parents.

warnings. fluff. slight angst. fem!reader. older girlfriend!caitlyn. reader is in college. age gap (10 years or more). no use of y/n. modern au. hurt and comfort. pet names. caitlyn is nervy teehee. reading is a tease. insecure!reader a little bit. readers parents are the best. not proofread. wc. 2.2k

a/n. thank you for your request alaina pie <3 this was so cute (and sad) to write for, especially during the holidays! hopefully this is what you envisioned and i tried to incorporate "my (nickname)" as naturally as possible. remember to support your writers by reblogging & commenting !

m.list. | arcane m.list.

‣ caitlyn wasn't oblivious to the way the pair of arms slung around her waist would tighten whenever you thought she’d be the be first to let go. or how you always pressed your face further into her chest, an ear aligned to where her heartbeats for you, as if you’re trying to encode the rhythm into your memory. and the most heartbreaking, how when you finally release her from the hug and meet her gaze there’s tears daring to spill from your waterline, eyes glazed over and a forced upturned smile to show that you’re fine. she knew that you were going home to see your family for the holidays, that it would be a joyous thing, something that you’re bouncing off the walls for, you rarely see your family much since moving out permanently. but the wreck you become when you go home startles her, and she knows it’s far more than you missing her for a few weeks.

‣ not much can set caitlyn on edge, but the nerves of asking if you’d like to spend christmas with her, just her, no parent, certainly sets her off.

clicks and clanks fill the room mixing with the content of the two of you enjoying yet another home cooked meal made by caitlyn. you’d just resumed classes from fall break when she called you asking for dinner and a weekend together, you agreed, of course.

looking from across the dining table cait’s brows are furrowed as she pushes the remanence of her food back and forth on her plate. she’s clear in deep thought and has been quiet for most of the evening which is unlike her. the stoic stature she puts on for work quickly fades away the moment her eyes land on you and she becomes the familiar chatter bug you know and love.

your clothed foot searches for hers underneath the table, and when it does you bump into it, your foot tickling up her ankle. upon this intrusion cait’s attention focuses on you, her eyebrows lifting and a small smile forming on her face, her eyes lifting from her plate, the foot you attacked fights back.

“you're quiet tonight.” you begin.

“i've been meaning to ask you something.”

oh. straight to the point.

as if cait could sense your panic, her foot stops wrestling with yours, instead laying it to rest against yours in hope you would stop too. “it’s nothing bad, i promise,” she rushes. “i maybe shouldn't have worded it bluntly.” grimacing at the worry she enacted in you.

“you think? nearly gave me a heart attack.” your wild thoughts nearly get the best of you.

“it's just,” cait pauses, gathering her thoughts. “it's a huge step in our relationship.”

“we've already had sex, cait.” you joke, and caitlyn chokes on her spit at the shock of your dirty words. reaching out and takes a brief swig of water, her eyes narrow towards you. “‘m just playing with you. couldn't help myself.” you're once stilled foot becomes alive again, soothing up cait’s ankle to about mid calf before going back down and repeating the action.

she hums, setting her glass down. “such a dirty mind of yours.”

“and whose fault is that?” you argue. caitlyn corks an eyebrow up, challenging you at the next words to fall from your mouth. “you've created a crazed monster.” she couldn’t deny the sense of pride swirling throughout her chest at your words.

“minx.” she mutters, her lips twitch upward. it’s such a minuscule movement, blind to the normal eye, but apparent enough for you to catch.

for the first time in a hot minute you place your feet flat on the ground, placing your hands to the edge of the table, the screech of the chair against the wooden floors fills the room.

standing up and making your way towards caitlyn, around the corner of the table. satisfied when you spot that cait had already made space for you. when you're in reach a hand curls around your waist to pull you into her lap, much like how an owner pulls their cat to lay within their lap. slinging an arm around cait’s shoulder to the back of the chair, while your other hands rest on the back of her neck, her dark navy hair pulled into a ponytail so you're able to toy with the wisp of her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

“did i ruin the mood?” you pout, a tinge of nervousness bubbling up once again that you had taken away caitlyn’s moment to be vulnerable.

“god, no. you've made the atmosphere lighter, darling.” she assures, giving your waist a small squeeze and flashing a tight lipped smile. there’s a glint behind her eyes that makes you doubt her words.

“for what you were going to ask me?”

caitlyn hums, her gaze flicking down to the hem of your sweater, taking the soft material between her perfectly manicured fingers, coming between her thumb and index finger to rub at the hem. “what i wanted to ask was if you’d be interested in spending christmas together,” bringing her full attention back up to your face, the glint now masked by the softness of her eyes. “just the two of us.”

you stare at your girlfriend with wide starstruck eyes, this is definitely—no doubt—a big step for your guys’ relationship. the only holidays you and caitlyn have spent together is, well, valentine’s day, and the cringey other dates throughout the year like national girlfriend day, dates that caitlyn hadn't known about before you. “just the two of us?” you grin.

“is that okay?” she mistakes your grin as a teasing grin, and although it slightly is one, it's a toothy grin that shows off your whites, pushing up your face and makes your cheeks hurt, in a good way.

“it's more than okay, i’d love to.”

now there’s a grin that mirrors your own, flashing you the tooth gap that you adore. her fingers release the hem of your sweater, sneaking underneath the material pulling you flesh against her. lips meeting into a tender needy kiss.

when you pull away, you rest your forehead on hers. “that’s what you were so nervous about?” you ask, corking your head to the side, amused at how nervous she was to ask you to spend your first big holiday together. finding her too cute.

“was scared you were going to say no.” she confesses, you kiss her again.

“i could never say no to you.” it's the truth, but there's a little looming thought forming over the top of your head; you'd have to figure out a way to break the news to your parents.

‣ that weekend you and caitlyn had decorated her house, pulling the boxes from out of the dark space within her house to settle them in the living room. putting on the charlie brown christmas album to add to the ambiance as the two of you get into the holiday spirit. fluffing out the pined branches of the false tree, the endeavor of adorning the green of the tree with the various decorations of lights, tinsel, and ornaments begin. when it's deemed almost perfect, caitlyn hands firmly grip onto your waist to help you balance yourself on a chair as you place the simply stunning gold star on top to finish the tree. when the sun sets and the moon illuminates the sky you yank caitlyn to the tree polaroid camera in hand, falling into natural position with each other; one picture smiling at the camera, snap! and another kissing as the lights wrapped around the tree create hazy glowing halos on top of your heads, snap!

‣ it seemed as though each time you visited caitlyn’s home the presents beneath the tree kept growing, all wrapped neat and crisp with little tags signaling that they're from cait herself. they made the small pile of presents dedicated to her from you look puny. she self admittedly spoils you often, it's one of her love languages; gift giving. she enjoys being the person who splurges on you, who gives into any little item you desire. in her eyes she's making up on all the times you decided not to get something, and with the amount of money she has in her bank account and all the charity and donations she does, she could get rid of some of the money rotting away, and who else better to spend it on than you? as much as she enjoys it, and as much as you're grateful for it all it's still something that's hard to digest. that someone is willingly spending their money on items and gifts for you, not out of circumstance or special occasion (although you guess christmas is a special occasion) but out of self want and love for you. it’s the side of a coin you've never seen before, coming from a family who was never as well off as the kiramman’s and being a child, and now an adult who still makes up the lavish gifts you can't afford with handcrafted gifts.

‣ you were running away, trying to escape the countdown to christmas day that was becoming shorter and shorter. still yet to inform your parents that you won't be home for christmas, dodging the question “what day will you be coming home?” whenever it’s brought up by either of them. even avoiding it whenever caitlyn asks how your parents took the news “uh, they don't know yet.”

well now they know. you hadn't planned on telling them today, you hadn't even planned on a day to tell them to be truthful. and now as you're curled up against caitlyn you're anything but focused on the movie that was put on.

“now you're the one being quiet.” caitlyn pipes out, recalling a few weeks ago to when you called her out on the same thing.

“my parents called before i came over,” your words prompt caitlyn to reach for the remote, clicking a button and pausing the movie. “i told them that i won't be home for christmas, or well they worked it out of me.”

from beside you cait sits up, disrupting your slumped figure to also sit up. “how’d they take it?”

“not well.” your response is short and to the point, and ‘not well’ is honestly the best way you could've said that they completely and utterly flipped out on you. eyes wandering around the room and passed caitlyn’s head to avoid making any form of eye contact with her. you already didn't cry on the phone with your parents; too used to their treatment, and you weren't going to break down now in front of your girlfriend.

however, caitlyn’s cerulean eyes bored into your avoidant form. “look at me, my darling.” her mellow tone contrast the brashness of your parents, the difference alone makes tears prickle along your waterline. swiftly tucking your head over your shoulder, shielding yourself from caitlyn’s gaze, knowing that if you dared to look at her, tears would come pouring down your cheeks in thick streams.

“darling,” a cool hand raising to caress at your warm cheek, trying to get you to unveil yourself to her. “look at me, please.” shutting your eyes you let the hand on your cheek move your face for you, not strong enough to do it yourself. it's quiet at this point, and you know now that you're “looking” at caitlyn, or well caitlyn is looking at you; feeling defeated at the quickness of your strong facade washing away, tears wetting your cheeks.

“open your eyes, love.”

“i didn't think they'd be that upset.” you sigh, letting the words fall from your mouth, still keeping your eyes shut tight.

“oh, darling—”

you cut cait off. “please. don't pitty me, cait.” a moment of silence passes and you open your eyes, being met with caitlyn’s. she wants to speak up, wants to console you, but she knows you need to get it out of your system. “there's no use for my tears over them. they’ve always been the same and will stay the same, it's been that way for years. don't even know why they're so upset over me not coming home, i’ll just end up being ignored anyway.” you explained, feeling your walls being built back up as you become defensive over the topic of your parents and their not—so—nurturing nature towards you.

there's a beat before caitlyn fully gathers what she wants to say. “i’m not pitying you, darling. you’ve never spoken of your parents behavior towards you before, but i've noticed how you mood dulls whenever you go home. it's clear that being around your family drains you while they don't even give you a second thought. it's not fair to you.”

the hand on your cheek remained, sliding down the column of your neck to rest, her thumb rubbing at your jaw, her other hand coming up to the same position and matching the action of the other. the sincerity of her words cause even more hot tears to rush down from your eyes. “you deserve the utmost respect and love.”

it eats you alive, but you must ask, hanging your head low. “you really think that?” tone hushed and meek.

“respect and love?” she questions, her own tone matching yours because just as much as you're intuned with her she's intuned with you and what you need. watching as your head reluctantly nods. and once again she utilizes her hands on your face to push your head up, allowing her to see you in all your puffy faces glory.

“my darling, i believe you deserve the world.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Wake Up Call | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine.)

Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content. (I feel like I should still point out that this does not mean that Steve is gonna become a part of the list of people I write for on a regular basis. After I post my second fic for him, I don’t know whether or not I’ll write for him again. Nothing is set in stone yet. I want to start writing for him again regularly. I really do, but I’m gonna have to do some real thinking on it.)

“Steve.”

A noncommittal grunt.

“Stevie…”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“Baby, you gotta wake up.”

“Uh-uh.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.

Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.

Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.

With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.

“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”

“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.

“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.

You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.

“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.

Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.

“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”

Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”

You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”

“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.

Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.

Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”

You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”

“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”

“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”

“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”

“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.

Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.

Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.

[ddodol]

familiarity — l.cy

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, ex!anton, fem!reader, pet names, dry humping, 'public' sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.8k+

✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ it's ok, i'm ok — tate mcrae ]

“ugh, are you kidding me?”

you were bummed that a friend couldn’t come pick you up for tonight’s halloween party because her boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself. you already dressed up for tonight, all that’s left was for someone to come pick you up and come with you to the party.

thankfully, your friend had connections, or else you would’ve just moped around at home.

the only thing that’s holding you back, though, was the fact that it was your ex— something your so-called friend forgot to consider. now, you were shaking nervously on your couch, obsessing over your appearance and clothes.

you were dressed as a certain beloved comic book character, hair split into uneven pigtails, intentionally messy make-up, ruined cropped tee, booty shorts, fishnet stockings, and a bat in one hand to top it all off. you were quite the sight, and you knew he’d enjoy it just as much.

this costume was something you’ve been planning on for quite some time now ever since shotaro told you about his halloween party. you put a lot of time and effort into it, from accessories to altering the clothes you bought.

having your ex-boyfriend think that you put this much effort into your costume just because you found out he was picking you up today would be the last thing you wanted— and you know he’d bring up how you were still not over him at some point.

when the time came for him to come pick you up, you could’ve sworn he was checking you out from head to toe just as you expected.

normally, you would've felt flattered, but you were way past that now. you crossed your arms, “are you done? can we leave now?” anton chuckles softly, going around his car to open the car door for you.

for a very brief moment, you were surprised to realize that you’d be sitting at the back, not at the passenger seat like you always did. you hesitated, glancing at him awkwardly.

anton seems to have noticed, turning his head away to hide the growing smile on his face. it might’ve been months since you broke up but he could still tell what goes on in your mind, chuckling silently at how lost you looked.

”wanna take the passenger seat instead?” you beamed up at his suggestion, nodding quickly. anton smiles at you, nodding back.

unsurprisingly, anton looked as dashing as ever even if he was wearing a cheap swat uniform. black looked amazing on him, especially now with his hair reaching his shoulders. he looked good, too good actually.

he walked past you, stopping in his tracks when he felt something tugging at his pants. he looks down, seeing a velcro strip caught onto your fishnet stockings. anton tried to be discreet before you could catch on, pulling it gently.

”what are you doing?” you asked in a panicked voice when you felt the tugging on your thigh, turning your head to look at him. the darkness didn’t help and anton had to run his hands around to get a feel— ”anton?!” you squeaked out, surprised when he pinned you against the car door, upper body pressed flush against his window.

anton groans out, hands clumsily trying to break your stockings apart. his fingers grazing against your bare skin made him shudder, swallowing thickly as he gave into the temptation and gently caressed your thigh. he was getting sidetracked but he couldn't help it— he missed having you in his arms, way more than he liked to admit.

your skin felt soft and warm against his touch, scent overwhelming him from how sweet it was. anton could easily recall every single thing about you, every touch and caress that would drive you crazy.

”tell me to stop,” he sighed out, pressing his body against yours and sandwiching you in between his larger build and the cold car door. when you didn't respond, anton grabbed your ass, giving it a small squeeze, "look at me and tell me to stop."

you let out a shaky breath, turning your cheek towards him. anton cursed softly, the messy makeup you had on reminded him so much of the past; all the passionate nights after small squabbles where he got to apologize for his behavior and make it up to you.

"do you want to?" your voice came out quiet, hesitant even, but anton could hear it all. hell, he swore he could even hear how hard your heart was beating at that moment.

anton couldn't shake his head, breathing heavily against your neck as he leaned in. he nipped at your lobe before trailing wet kisses down your neck. his huge hand roamed around your body, warming you up effectively against the cold night air. he let out a sigh, brows furrowing at how familiar you felt and how easy it was to leave you trembling under his touch.

"need to hear a yes from those pretty lips, baby." you gasped softly, his hot breath fanning against your exposed neck. "i'll treat you so good, just give me the word," he groaned, hips starting to grind against your ass.

you whimpered, head spinning when you felt his cock starting to get harder, pressing onto your plush thighs. "fuck, yes," you breathed out, placing your hands on the car's window.

anton gripped on your hips, keeping you still as he slotted himself in between your legs. you pushed your ass out even more, swaying it against anton's movements. he moaned breathily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

you were feeling lightheaded, body heating up from the slow but deep movements. you felt needy, whimpering at how familiar this feeling felt. there wasn't any affection involved, but you could almost fool yourself into loving him from just how much you wanted him in this moment alone.

"anton, this is so bad." he chuckled at your breathless murmurs, gripping on you tightly. he knew those were empty words, the way your hips moved against his was enough proof for him. anton badly wished that he could replace your lingering hatred for him with whatever he was making you feel right now, to just act like nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

you shuddered at how desperate you were starting to feel, feeling heated from anton's teasing. "hurry," you breathed out, "just hurry, fuck, i need you. i need you bad, toni."

anton stilled his hips, eyes going wide for a brief moment before leaning in to press a soft kiss on your neck. "you have no idea how much i missed you," he whispered, voice laced with sweet desire.

"don't say shit you can't take back, anton." he laughs weakly, ignoring the disdain in your voice as he unapologetically tore more holes into your stockings before hooking his fingers up your shorts and tugging it up, leaving you gasping and whimpering at the pressure against your already sensitive core.

"baby, i have no reason to lie," he mumbled almost defensively. his hands moved busily, pulling your shorts down while his other hand unbuckled his belt. the fabric of his costume felt rough against your bare thighs, feeling it drop down as his hot length rested on your ass cheek.

you bit your lip, letting out a small noise when he slapped his heavy cock against your plump ass. "missed that, baby?" anton teased, smirking at every little reaction you gave him.

"tell me what else you missed about me and i'll give it to you like a good girl."

you wanted to complain, really, but the temptation was too great. his hands dug into your skin, warmth seeping into your core. his hands— you’ve missed them terribly, body tingling in response to his desperate touches. but more importantly, you missed having him inside of you.

you whimpered, resting your forehead against the vehicle’s window. “please,” you gasp, “i need you inside.”

anton chuckles, nuzzling his cheek against the crook of your neck. he pressed a kiss on your skin, leaving you shivering from the contact. “anything,” he whispered, “anything you want, darling.”

he pulled away slightly, gripping on his length while he pushes your shorts to the side. he mumbled soft curses, face contorting in pleasure as he rubs the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. anton pushed his cock inside, drawing out that sweet, breathless gasp from your plump lips.

”i fucking missed this,” he moans breathlessly, resting his head against your shoulder. anton began to move in a steady rhythm, your walls clinging onto him snugly. “always so needy,” he brought his hand down onto your ass, the loud smack echoing in the empty streets. “always so tight for me,” he gasps softly, brows furrowing.

you whimpered, legs starting to tremble. your voice grew louder, crying out at the increasing pace. anton’s hips snapped against yours, leaving you moaning and whimpering. he pressed on your back, pressing you closer to him and splitting your legs open even more. you cried his name, encouraging him to go faster, until you couldn’t take any more— just the way you liked it.

”take it,” he panted, “take all of me, baby.” you whimper, body melting from the overwhelming pleasure you felt for the first time in months. anton snaked his hand around your waist, gripping on you tightly.

”you’re close, yeah? i could tell,” he mumbled against your flushed skin. you clawed on the window, breath fogging up the tinted surface. your body tensed up, voice going up a pitch higher as he pressed his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust. he rubbed on your lower stomach, feeling his cock bulging as he thrusted deep.

you sobbed softly, barely keeping yourself up as your orgasm began to build up. “anton,” you moan, “keep going— fuck!” anton happily complied, smiling against your skin and leaving small bites on your shoulder. he panted, hands shaking as he reached down to roll your swollen clit, further amplifying your pleasure and leaving you shaking under his touch.

”fuck, fuck— oh, anton!” you cried, trembling as you came. he held you up, fingers still rubbing circles against your clit. he kept moving his hips, drawing out your orgasm for as long as you could take it.

”i know you could give me more than that, baby.” you whimper, sobbing sensitively as he kept pressing on your sensitive walls. warmth began to build up in your lower stomach, hips jerking from how sensitive you felt.

anton whispered praises into your ear, slowly driving you insane. his movements began to get sloppy, starting to reach his own high as your walls kept clenching down on his throbbing length. you weakly cried his name, fists balling up as you squirted all over his cock.

anton pressed your body against his, shuddering slightly as he came deep inside you. “fuck,” he mumbled, dragging his lips against your neck, lazily leaving kisses in its trail.

you panted heavily, resting your cheek against the window. you sighed, “i need a minute after that.”

he chuckles, kissing your jaw, “still plan on going to that party? i can bring you somewhere nice.” you sighed at his tempting offer. “somewhere warmer, perhaps?”

right. you two were still outside— at a residential neighborhood. if you were lucky enough, your mom would hopefully be asleep by now. how horrific.

”somewhere far,” you whispered, “i don’t think i can face my mom’s neighbors after this.”

[multipleoccupancy]

"Yes she can be relentless," Sloane agreed with a fond little hum for the pair of them. "But he also started it, she deserved it too of course." He happily admitted for all of Samantha's competitive gloating, she was inviting Killian to wind her up. However, he could see that his suggestion of her taking position in a high vantage point had not gone as well as he had hoped and she seemed afraid of that suggestion though he couldn't quite understand why.

She assumed a roof but then agreed to do so for him and Sloane took a moment to assess her as best he could. What had that been about? "In a room with a window I mean," he at least clarified for her as the surrender went on behind him. "Is that ok? You didn't seem sure just now."

Theo took in a pretend gasp of air as Samantha let up and offered her hand. For a moment he considered grabbing it and pulling her down to return the tickling favour but relented and just accepted her help instead. "You are better at hitting four cans instead of five, that's true." He said as he was back on his feet, hair all over the place.

He smiled over to Sloane and Violet but could see Sloane was looking a little more like business had started again and Theo remembered just what their plan was. He nudged Samantha to point out the conversation to her. "We'll pick this up later," he said teasingly but the smile didn't hold on his face, he was worried about Samantha being the bait but that was their plan and there wasn't really an alternative now.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

From where she sat, and with Sloane now sitting in Theo's seat, Violet couldn't see what was happening on the floor, but she could hear the laughter and the screaming, and imagined that the tickle fight was going well. For Samantha, at least.

And indeed, she was not relenting, tickling Theo mercilessly, her fingers poking into his sides. "Your principles won't save you!" she exclaimed as she laughed, very theatrical about it -perhaps it was Sloane's influence on her.

"I'm glad she spared me," chuckled Violet as more yelps erupted behind them. Her eyes fell on the crossbow that Sloane placed next to her, and she blushed a little bit. She had proved she could use it well, and now he trusted her with it. "A high vantage point?" she repeated, before looking back at him.

"Like on a roof?" Her face turned paler. Violet didn't want to be on a roof. Or on any high vantage point of any kind. She didn't like heights. But she had insisted so much to help them, she couldn't falter now. Of course, she didn't know yet that Sloane wasn't thinking of a roof at all, but of a safe dorm room. "I can do that," she assured him, trying to sound resolute. It was a good plan, after all. With the crossbow, she could be a sort of... medieval sniper.

Samantha let out a cry of victory behind them. "AHA!" she exclaimed, raising her arms in the air, "finally, you admit defeat!" And with that, she stood up and handed him her hand to help him up.

[surielstea]

Solstice Special

(SFW version)

Pairing: ACoTaR x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: A compilation of drabbles with a theme of Winter Solstice, just an excuse to write fluff really.

Warnings: All fluff! One allusion to smut (rhys), but that’s it!

3.7k words.

Rhys - Mistletoe

I leaned against the archway of the foyer, sighing as I reached down to unbuckle the straps of my heels. The day's weight still clung to me, but the familiar warmth of home promised relief. One shoe off, then the other, I barely registered the soft sound of hurried footsteps until they were practically upon me.

Rhysand rounded the corner from his office, his usual grace momentarily abandoned as he skidded slightly on the polished hardwood floor. My brows furrowed at his urgency. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, my voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.

He didn't answer, not with words, anyway. Instead, his hands cupped my face, firm yet tender, tilting my head up to meet his descending lips. His kiss was sudden, warm, and commanding, leaving me breathless before I had a chance to even think.

Still, I kissed him back, my confusion melting into a hum of contentment. When he pulled away, his violet eyes sparkled with mischief, and his lips curled into that devilish smile that always unraveled me.

"Welcome home," he murmured, his voice rich and teasing.

I blinked up at him, dazed. "What was that for?" I managed to whisper, still feeling the lingering heat of his mouth on mine.

His grin widened as he silently pointed above us. My gaze followed the gesture, landing on a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the archway. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, shaking my head. "Did you hang that up?"

"I did," he replied, looking awfully pleased with himself. His pride was almost endearing, considering I had done all the rest of the decorating. The garlands on the banister, the wreath on the door, the lights twinkling softly in the windows—all my handiwork. And yet, he stood there, so smug about his singular contribution.

I grinned, shaking my head as I leaned up on my toes to press another quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's my favorite of all the decor," I murmured against his mouth.

He hummed his agreement, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I know," he said, his tone entirely too self-satisfied. "I'll expect full credit for it."

From that day on, the mistletoe became a tradition—one he refused to let go of. Every day when I walked through the door, he'd be there waiting. His excuse was always the same, a playful glance upward and a husky, "You know the rules."

Usually, the kisses were soft, sweet. A lingering press of his lips against mine followed by a quiet, "I'm glad you're home." Sometimes he'd brush his thumb along my jaw or press his forehead to mine, his eyes saying what words never could.

But on other days—those long, grueling ones when exhaustion was carved into every line of my body—his kisses were different. They were hungrier, more insistent. He'd pin me against the wall, his hands roving over my waist, my back, his touch dissolving every ounce of tension. His mouth would trail to my neck, his voice a low murmur, "Let me take care of you." And he always did, in ways that left me breathless and melting into him.

There were moments when I wondered if the mistletoe had been an innocent gesture at all, or if he'd hung it up knowing it would become something more—a way to anchor us, to carve out a pocket of intimacy amid the chaos of the world outside. If so, I couldn't complain. It was the best idea he'd ever had.

The archway and its ever-present dangling plant became our quiet haven, an unspoken ritual that drew me closer to him every day. And it was the last night of the Solstice Season, meaning all the decorations would go down tomorrow. So when I came home I expected rose petals leading up the doorstep and candles to illuminate our last kiss beneath the dangling plant.

But when I walked inside, I found him waiting for me, not beneath the mistletoe, but by the window, a glass of wine in his hand. The soft glow of the moonlight framed him like some sort of painting, his silhouette a study in elegance and ease. He didn't notice me at first, his attention fixed on the snow drifting lazily outside.

I paused in the doorway, letting the sight of him settle in my chest. He was dressed in more casual clothes—a loose, charcoal-gray sweater and black slacks—and for a moment, I could almost forget he was the High Lord of Night, the most powerful male in Prythian. Right now, he was simply mine.

"Are you going to stand there staring all night?" Rhysand asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. He didn't turn, but I could hear the amusement in his tone.

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the room. "You looked peaceful. I didn't want to ruin the moment."

He glanced at me over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You could never ruin anything." Setting his glass down, he turned fully, holding out a hand. "Come here."

I hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room and slipping my hand into his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, and he guided me toward the window. "Look," he murmured, nodding toward the snow.

I followed his gaze. The world outside was blanketed in white, the kind of snowfall that muffled all sound and made the world feel smaller, quieter. It was beautiful, but I couldn't focus on it for long. Not with the way he was looking at me.

"You're not even looking at the snow," I accused softly, glancing up at him.

His lips twitched. "Why would I, when you're here?"

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. "You're shameless."

"Always," he agreed, pulling me closer. His hands settled on my hips, and I found myself instinctively wrapping mine around the back of his neck, head resting on his chest as I stared out the window. We stood there, swaying slightly to a rhythm only he seemed to hear.

After a moment, I tilted my head up to look at him. "You going to kiss me anytime soon?"

"Desperate, are you?" he countered, one brow arching.

I gave him a pointed look. "You're the one who started all this."

He sighed, a dramatic sound, but the way his hands tightened on me gave him away, he couldn't deny me.

He leaned forward, smiling as our lips nearly met but didn't quite touch. I huffed, rising onto my toes and closing that gap to kiss him. It was slow and deep, a silent confession of everything I couldn't say. He responded immediately, his arms tightening around me, grounding me.

His hands ran up my hips, large hands gripping my waist, the warmth of his touch seeping past my clothes as he pulled me closer and deepened our kiss, attempting to pour all his love into this one moment.

By the time we pulled apart, I felt lighter, the weight of my long day dissolving under his touch. "Thank you," I whispered, my fingers brushing over his jaw.

He smiled, that familiar, self-assured curve of his lips. "For the kiss? Or for being perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "For this. For you."

His smile softened, his gaze turning molten. "Always, my love." He pecked my lips once more, slowly pulling away with his forehead against mine. "Always."

Az - Cookies

We had made a mess. Flour clung to the entire front of Azriel's black shirt, standing out starkly against the dark fabric, while dye from the frosting stained my hands in streaks of bright colors. The countertops were a warzone of cookie cutters, unused dough scraps, and piping bags in every color.

But neither of us seemed to care. Azriel focused on his latest creation with the precision of a Spymaster turned confectionery artist, the perfectly golden-brown sugar cookies serving as his canvas. I was still shocked he hadn't devoured the one he was decorating, considering he'd been snatching cookies fresh out of the oven all afternoon.

We weren't officially competing, but if we were, I'd be losing. Horribly. His cookies looked like something straight out of a Winter Solstice display—ornate wreaths, perfect bows, and snowflakes so detailed they might have been drawn by hand. Meanwhile, my snowman looked like he'd been through a blizzard and lost the fight. His crooked smile mocked me from the plate.

With a defeated sigh, I cleared a small space and hoisted myself onto the counter, leaning back on my hands to watch my mate work. I didn't understand how he was so good at manipulating the frosting—it seemed to defy my every attempt.

"Are you pouting?" Azriel asked without looking up, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"Something like that," I replied, unable to keep the pout from my tone.

"This was your idea, might I remind you," he said, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, waving him off. "I remember."

Azriel placed the piping bag down with deliberate care, adding yet another masterpiece to the growing plate of decorated cookies. Finally, he looked up, those hazel eyes warm and alight with quiet humor as they locked onto mine.

Without a word, he stepped forward, settling himself between my legs. His hands, still dusted with flour, rested on either side of my thighs as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, sweet—lingering just long enough to make my breath catch. When he pulled back, his lips curved into a slight smile, dimples appearing as though summoned just for me.

"You taste like frosting," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

A soft giggle escaped me before I could stop it. "You're not entirely innocent either." I poke his chest.

He tilted his head, pretending to think, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes gave him away. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said at last, his lips twitching into a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the warmth blooming in my chest.

Cass - Snowmen

"Using your powers is cheating," Cassian declared, gesturing toward my much more impressive snowman. His own creation, barely the size of a pre-schooler, leaned precariously to one side, a lopsided grin smeared across its face.

I scoffed, smoothing the snow on mine as I used my magic—honed in the Winter Court—to form the snowman's perfectly symmetrical, smiling expression. "Don't pout," I said, throwing him a smug grin. "It won't make your sad little snowman any better."

His gasp was loud and exaggerated, and he stomped through the knee-deep snow toward me, hands on his hips like a scolding parent. But the rant he was about to give cut off as his gaze flicked upward. He tilted his head back, dark hair dusted with white as fresh snow began to fall.

The soft flakes drifted between us, one landing perfectly on the tip of my nose. Cassian grinned, leaning in to brush it away with his lips before stealing a kiss, his mouth warm against mine. The cold melted away as I wrapped my arms beneath his jacket, hugging his solid torso against me. His hands pressed against my back, pulling me even closer.

But he leaned too far into the embrace, and the next thing I knew, we were tumbling backward into the snow.

I squealed as I landed with a soft thump, the freezing cold biting into me as I flailed. Cassian laughed, his deep chuckle loud and unapologetic as he flopped onto his back beside me.

"You're such a brute," I muttered, trying to brush the snow off my hair.

"And you're such a sore loser." He grinned, turning his head to look at me, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Thought you liked the cold?"

"I do." I glared, my cheeks flaming as the cold snow beneath me only seemed to grow colder.

"Then stop whining and enjoy it." Before I could argue, he swept his arms wide, his legs kicking out to carve a snow angel. The sight was so ridiculous—Cassian, a massive Illyrian warrior, lying in the snow and making an angel—I couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't need to use your arms, you already have arms," I said, flopping back beside him. "So ridiculous."

But I joined him, moving my arms and legs until a pair of angels stretched between us. He turned his head toward me, his grin softening into something warmer, gentler.

"I like this," he murmured. "Just you and me, acting like kids in the snow."

My heart clenched, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me tighter than his arms ever could. I reached for his hand, our fingers lacing together in the snow.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," I teased, "or I'd bury you in it."

He laughed again, the sound full of unrestrained joy as he tugged me closer. His wings wrapped around us like a shield, keeping the cold at bay as the snow continued to fall. We lay there for a while, watching the snowflakes swirl down from the dimming sky.

Eventually, he whispered, "I'll help warm you up when we go inside—if you admit my snow angel is better than yours."

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not a chance, general."

Lucien - Ice Skating

"Wait!" I called out to my mate, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to steady myself. My knees wobbled dangerously beneath me, the ice beneath the blades of my skates feeling far less forgiving than solid ground.

Lucien turned, easily as if he wasn't on blades. His golden eye shimmered with amusement, the hint of a small smile tugging at his lips. He looked as though he'd been born on skates, while I felt like a newborn fawn—clumsy, awkward, and certain I was seconds away from disaster.

I took a tentative step forward, my arms stretched out as if I could somehow will balance into my uncooperative limbs. The moment my foot moved, I lurched forward, letting out a squeak of panic.

Lucien was there in an instant. I grabbed his jacket instinctively, clinging to him as though he were the only thing standing between me and certain doom.

"Here," he said, his voice warm and steady, "hold my hands." He extended his palms toward me, his confidence so disarming that it made my own nerves feel a bit foolish. Slowly, ever so slowly, I released my death grip on his jacket and slid my trembling hands into his.

"There," he said softly, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles over the backs of my hands. "Be confident, or you'll fall."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the ice with a mix of terror and defiance. "My legs are so stiff from the cold I feel like they'll snap in half."

Lucien chuckled, the sound low and rich, like molten honey. "Always so dramatic," he teased, threading his fingers through mine as he took a small step backward, gently pulling me forward.

"Just match my movements," he instructed. His voice was calm, soothing, and so maddeningly self-assured that I almost forgot my fear. Almost.

My brows furrowed in concentration as I tried to follow his lead. My legs refused to cooperate, my body too tense to glide smoothly the way he did. Instead, I felt like a lump of wood teetering on the edge of disaster, certain that at any moment I'd go face-first into the ice.

Sensing my hesitation, Lucien squeezed my hands, and warmth bloomed from where his skin met mine, chasing away the biting chill that had settled in my fingers. The warmth crept up my arms and into my chest, soothing me in a way that only he could.

"See? You're already doing better," he encouraged, his voice laced with pride.

I frowned up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips. "Stop laughing at me," I huffed.

"I'm not laughing," he protested, though his golden eye sparkled with amusement.

"You're smiling," I pointed out accusingly.

"Am I not allowed to smile at my mate?" he countered, his smirk widening.

"No," I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction. "Not when I'm one slip away from breaking every bone in my body."

He laughed then, the sound so genuine and warm that I felt my annoyance melt away. "You're not going to fall," he promised.

"And if I do?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Then I'll catch you," he said simply, his voice steady and certain.

Something in the way he said it—like it wasn't just about ice skating, but about everything—made me falter. I swallowed hard, the moment of vulnerability making me cling to him just a little tighter.

"Now," he said, his tone light and teasing again, "let's try this without you looking like you're walking on hot coals."

I glared at him, but I couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up. His confidence was contagious, and as I let him guide me step by step across the ice, I felt my body begin to relax.

The fear was still there, lingering at the edges, but with Lucien's steady hands in mine and his unwavering gaze fixed on me, I started to believe that maybe I wouldn't fall. And even if I did, I knew he'd be there to catch me.

Eris - Cocoa

I buzzed with excitement as I topped my steaming mug of cocoa with an indulgent swirl of whipped cream, crowning it with tiny marshmallows that spilled over the rim. The warmth of the drink seeped into my hands as I cradled the mug, savoring the simple joy of the moment.

"Love?" Eris's voice, low and laced with sleep, called from the hallway. I glanced up just as he peeked his head around the corner, his copper hair deliciously ruffled, his sharp amber eyes softened by drowsiness.

"Morning, Eris," I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips. He blinked at me, his expression still crinkled with sleep, and shook his head wordlessly before padding into the room.

Before I could ask what he was doing, he closed the distance between us. Gently, his hands slid over mine, tugging me away from the counter and into the hallway with the sleepy drag of his feet.

"Eris," I began, my voice full of curiosity, "what are you—?"

He didn't answer, his silence as warm and grounding as his touch. His hands in mine felt like slipping into a sun-drenched blanket on a crisp autumn morning. He led me to our bedroom, nudging the door open with a lazy kick. Releasing my hands, he turned to face me, his sharp features soft in the early light.

In one swift motion, his hands found my waist, and he pulled me down onto the bed with him. "Eris," I sighed as he reached for the blankets, cocooning us in their warmth.

"It's too early," he murmured, his voice raspy and thick with sleep as he nestled into the crook of my neck.

"My cocoa's going to get cold," I protested half-heartedly, but the argument died on my tongue the moment he tightened his arm around me.

"Just a few minutes," he countered, his words brushing my skin like embers. His fingers began tracing slow, soothing circles along my back, their heat melting away the last of my resistance. He pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck, and I couldn't stop the warmth that bloomed in my chest, spreading like wildfire.

"Fine," I whispered, my resolve crumbling under his touch. "Just a few more minutes."

His only response was a soft hum of approval as I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, combing it away from his face. His quiet breaths and the rhythmic heat of his touch lulled me deeper into the comfort of the moment. Before I knew it, I'd drifted off, enveloped by his warmth.

I woke to the sensation of gentle kisses—one pressed to my forehead, another to my cheek, and then the tip of my nose. I blinked my eyes open, greeted by Eris's amber gaze, glowing with unspoken affection.

"Morning," I rasped, my voice heavy with sleep. "Again."

His lips curved into a soft smile as he leaned in, brushing a kiss against mine. His fingers cradled my jaw, the gesture tender enough to steal my breath.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. His thumb traced the curve of my cheek. "Think your cocoa's cold now?"

My eyes widened as the memory hit me. I scrambled out of bed, rushing to the kitchen as Eris's amused laugh echoed behind me. I skidded to a stop at the counter, frowning down at the abandoned mug. Tentatively, I dipped a finger into the drink. Ice cold.

"It's ruined," I said, pouting as I turned to Eris, who had followed me with his usual unhurried grace. "It was the last of the cocoa powder."

He leaned against the counter, his hair still a mess from sleep, and shook his head with a smirk. "You forget who I am."

Taking the mug from my hands, he held it between his palms. Within seconds, steam curled into the air, and the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen once more.

I smiled, biting my lip as I looked up at him. "Show-off."

"There," he said with a grin, handing the mug back to me.

Rising onto my toes, I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, savoring the warmth of his skin. "Thanks, 'Ris," I murmured, cradling the mug close as I took a tentative sip. The heat spread through me, as rich and comforting as the male watching me with sleepy affection.

"You're welcome, love," he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His amber gaze held mine, filled with warmth, and I couldn't help but think there was no better way to start the day.

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[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

[ID: The first image is a movie poster for the Dreamworks movie Home, showing Oh, a Boov (a wide, short, purple creature), Tip, a black girl, and a calico cat. The rest of the images are screenshots of sections of The True Meaning of Smekday, by Adam Rex.

In a ridiculously short amount of time, the Boov determined that humans were unwilling to mix peacefully into their culture. They pointed out all the people who fled instead of welcoming their new neighbors, even those whose homes had been taken outright. Captain Smek himself appeared on television for an official speech to humankind. (He didn't call us humankind, of course. He called us Noble Savages of Earth. Apparently we were all still living on Earth at this point.) "Noble Savages of Earth," he said. "Long time have we tried to live together in peace." (It had been five months.) "Long time have the Boov suffered under the hostileness and intolerableness of you people. With sad hearts I now concede that Boov and humans will never to exist as one." I remember being really excited at this point. Could I possibly be hearing right? Were the Boov about to leave? I was so stupid. "And so now I generously grant you Human Preserves—gifts of land that will be for humans forever, never to be taken away again, now." I stared at the TV, mouth agape. "But we were here first," I said pathetically.

The tent was strung with white Christmas lights and packed with people, all facing a stage on one end. And on the stage stood a redheaded man in a wifebeater with a Viking tattooed on his chest. People were booing him. "Shut up!" the redhead was saying. "I have the stage! All I'm saying is, now that we've all had to leave our real homes, we got a chance to get America right! There can be a place for the Saxon Americans, and a place for the coloreds, and a place for—shut up!"

"So every place has some kind of leader?" I asked. It had all happened so fast. "Sure. Most of them are former state governors, or senators, or whatever. The president runs a little town called Rye." "Just a little town?" "Yes..." said Mitch. "He's not very popular anymore, because of the invasion. People assume it was his fault somehow. But we have to have leaders. We have to have government." "I guess," I said. "Daniel Landry's district is far south of here," he said, "on some former Indian land." "Indian land? Like a reservation?" "That's right." "Is this Dan guy an Indian?" "I don't think so, no. I'm pretty sure he's white. He wasn't a governor or anything before, but he's really rich, so I imagine he's a good leader." "Uh-huh. But he's white," I said. "The Indians elected a white guy?" "Well...I don't know. I imagine all the other people elected him. It's mostly white folks living on the reservation now." I frowned. "And the Indians are okay with this?" "What do you mean?" "Well...it was a reservation," I said. "It was land we promised to the Native Americans. Forever." Mitch looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. "But...we needed it," he said.

"Mr. Hinkel," said the Chief, jerking his head toward the sleeping man. "He thinks Indians like me ought to live somewhere else. Likes to tell me about it a lot." I didn't really want to talk about Mr. Hinkel. "Well, maybe they'll let him go soon." "Doubt it," said the Chief. "Got beat up pretty good by someone who thinks gay people like him ought to live somewhere else."

The last excerpt from the book is in comic format, divided into four main panels. The first is captioned, "2,000 (two thousand) years ago - Many schools closed by the HighBoov, because Money is Needed Elsewhere. Boov are told not to worry about learning unimportant things. Boov are told to learn one useful thing that may be done over and over again and give their life meaning. HighBoov devise clever tests to find which Boov should be taught more, and which Boov should not be taught because Money is Needed Elsewhere." Boov are shown doing things like guarding, serving food, and taking care of children.

The second panel is captioned, "1,150 (one thousand, one hundred and fifty) years ago - Certain Boov who were taught many things announce that industry is polluting the waters of Boovworld." Boov in uniforms point to a chart of their world and gesture to something outside a window, presenting this information to other Boov in fancy outfits. "These scientist predict that the oceans soon will no longer be able to sustain life, unless things are changed."

The third panel is captioned, "1,149 (one thousand, one hundred and forty-nine) years ago - HighBoov declare that these warnings of pollution cannot be proven, so therefore nothing should be changed. The scientist Boov who gave these warnings are declared evil-evil that they should call our God unclean. These Boov are named the Forgotten and sent onto land into exile forever. Some of them die of asphyxiation. Most don't." A line of Boov trudge out of water onto land.

The fourth panel is captioned, "1,003 (one thousand and three) years ago - God dies of asphyxiation." There are many skeletons with lots of darkness in the background.

Plain text: "1,003 years ago, God dies of asphyxiation" End ID]

like the most politically neutered movie of all time unironically

[mead-iocre]

FIFA | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: you play FIFA

warnings: none. just fluff x

wc: 1.7k words

The late afternoon light filtered through the sheer linen curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the living room. You sat curled up on the couch, legs draped over Leah’s lap, idly scrolling through your phone. The rhythmic clicking of the Xbox controller’s buttons was the only sound filling the room, a counterpoint to the quiet hum of the outside world.

All of a sudden, the clicking of the controller stopped. Leah nudged your leg, palm wrapping around one thigh and squeezing. “Hey, baby” she said, her voice light with a hint of something else. “Wanna do something fun?”

You look away from your phone, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Leah took a moment to admire you, dressed in your favourite Izaak Azanei pink shearling cuff button cardigan with the matching leggings. Leave it to you to be overdressed, even in the comfort of your own home. 

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, letting her phone drop onto the sofa beside her. You were intrigued now.

“I was thinking…FIFA,” The blonde said with a shrug, pushing her hair back as it falls over eyes. Her bangs haven't grown out just yet.

You blink up at her, slightly caught off guard. You had never shown the slightest interest in football or video games. You could barely remember the rules, let alone the offside rule.

But one thing about you, you were just as competitive as your professional footballer girlfriend– if not even more.

“FIFA...?” you ponder over it for a moment. You were never one to back down from a challenge-- even football. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Let’s play.”

The big smile that took over Leah’s face could’ve blinded a man.

She squeezed the leg that was still draped over her lap, and grabbed the second controller that was conveniently left on the coffee table. She hands it to you, grinning when your hands awkwardly fumble around with the buttons. 

Her competitive girl.

Rosy tinted lips settled into a pout, sweet wrinkles form across the middle of your forehead as you study the device in your hands. “Lee–” A huff leaves your lips. “…how does this even work?”

Leah chuckled softly, leaning in to adjust your grip. Her fingers brushed skin. “Okay, first things first. You use the left stick to move your player,” Leah said, her voice gentle but firm. “Try it. Push it to the left.”

Your brows furrowed, lips curling in confusion as you nudged the left stick to the side. On screen, the character shuffled a few steps, the motion awkward and unsure, much like you when you went to your first couple of football matches. “I’m– uh, not sure if I’m doing it right,” 

Leah’s lips quirked into a soft smile as she leaned a little closer, unable to stop herself from touching you somehow. She lets go of one side of the controller and instead drapes it over your shoulder, fingers rubbing the little bit of exposed skin by her hip. “That’s good. You’re doing great, baby. Here, let me show ya.” Leah gently took your hand, guiding your fingers to the controller so you were holding it more comfortably.

“Like this,” Leah murmured, moving the stick smoothly, making the player glide across the pitch. “See? Just a gentle nudge.”

You watched, captivated not by the moving avatar on the screen who looks eerily similar to Viv, but by the blonde shuffling closer beside you. After a year of dating, you should be used to this, but you weren't. Your heart still squeezed when you look at her.

It's almost ike when your Hermes sales associate pulled out your new Hermes Birkin 30 in Mauve Sylvestre Bag with Epsom Palladium Hardware.

Almost.

“Okay, I think I got it.” You pushed the stick forward a little more confidently this time. Your player jogged across the pitch—clumsy, but moving.

“There you go, baby” Leah praised, her eyes on you, soft with affection. “Now, let’s pass the ball.” She pointed to the ‘A’ button on the controller. “Press this to pass it. Lightly, okay?”

You pressed the button, and the ball rolled a few feet—straight to the opposing team.

Leah laughed in pure, utmost affection. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of her neck and the way her soft tendrils of her hair brushed against her cheek as her eyes met yours again. They were like crescent moons and you love the way her cheeks flush slightly the more she laughs.

One hand slides in between your knees, affectionately squeezing your inner thigh. “Okay, that was... a bit too light. But you’re getting there, baby”

You bite your lip, shy now, tasting your favourite Summer Fridays lipgloss. “I swear I’m trying,” you pout but nevertheless straightening your back to lock back in. “This is harder than it looks.”

The blonde just smiles a secret smile. The scent dewy sweetness of pink peony and fresh lily of the valley mingling with the soft, delicate rosy smell of your hair. You feel her press a kiss against the crown of your head, her lips moving against your hair as her jokes “It’s okay, baby. Sometimes I pass it to the opposing team too”

Too soon.

You recall the last game where Leah accidentally kicked the ball to an opposing player and nearly assisted an equaliser. Luckily, the goal was saved.

You gasp playfully, looking up at her only to be met with her pretty blues. The skin around the corner of her eyes crinkle as she laughs with you. Leah’s ability to not take herself so seriously is one of your favourite things about her. 

Turning back to the screen, you tighten your hands around the controller. “I think I might be terrible at this.”

“You’re not terrible,” Leah insists. “You’re learning. And that’s what matters.”

After a few more attempts, you finally managed to pass the ball with some semblance of control, sending it to your own teammate. “Look, I did it!” you bellow, your voice filled with genuine pride. Stacks of Tiffany and Van Cleef bracelets jingle and jangle as you pump a fist in the air. 

It was like when you scored your rare Dior Metallic Lambskin and Rose des Vents Satin bag– but without having to swipe a card.

You press the right buttons, watching as your avatar on screen kicks the ball up the pitch. “That’s what I’m talking about! What a pass, baby!” Leah turns to you, throwing her arms in the air, before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss. When she pulls away, a shiny sheen of your lipgloss is left on her own lips.

She doesn’t wipe it off. 

You grinned at her, fully locked in now. You rolled up your pink shearling cuff sleeves up your arms, because this was serious now. “Okay, now let’s see if I can actually score a goal.”

“Woah– okay, Messi. Lets see how you get dribbling first”

Reaching into the pocket of your pink joggers, you pull out your Summer Friday lipgloss, swiping it over your lips a few times. Leah just watches you with a small smile, your lip gloss still lingering on her bottom lip. You twist the lipgloss lid closed, pressing your lips together. “I can do this. Watch me.”

The Arsenal defender took that as her queue to sit back and observe as you focused back on the screen. The intensity in your gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, Leah found herself mesmerised not by the game on the screen, but by you.

You pressed the ‘B’ button with a confident flick of your thumb, and watched as the ball sailed through the air—past the defenders, past the keeper—and into the net.

You gasped as the words– GOAL!– flashes on screen, eyes widening in disbelief. “Did I- did I just score?”

Leah was stunning. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to make sense of what her girlfriend just did. “You... you did,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, awestruck. “You scored, baby. What a bloody good goal.”

Turning to her you gasp wide, sparkling eyes, lips parting in shock. Your curls bounce as you turn back to screen– wanting to make sure it was real– and then back to your girlfriend. “I... I really did? Oh my god--”

You squeal, jumping up from the sofa and clapping your hands. A breathless laugh escapes your lips as you twirl around in pure, unfiltered joy. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks flushed rosy with the thrill of victory, raising your arms raised in mock triumph. “I’m a footballer!” 

“Okay- okay don’t come for my job just yet” Leah reaches over, gently snagging your wrist and pulling you into her arms. You melt into her willingly, the controller slipping from your grasp as you both collapse into a tangle of laughter and affection, bodies close. The victory feels sweeter, somehow, in the warmth of her embrace.

“Told ya you could do it” Leah murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

You laughed, burying your face into her chest, the familiar smell of her hoodie washing over you. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m not completely terrible at it.”

“I think you’re more than just ‘not terrible.’” Leah snuggles you closer to her, a hand sneakily creeping underneath your top. When did that happen, you have no idea. Unable to help it, you shiver slightly at the feel of her nails dancing across your back.

And of course she notices.

Her voice is low, teasing. “You’re kind of a pro, actually”

"Alexia Putellas better watch out" You say, haughtily. Your taunt is rewarded with her raspy laugh. She nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss on the spot where you neck meets your collarbone. "I'm coming for that Ballon Dior"

“Ballon D’or, baby– not Dior”

You look at her, the love of your life. Her pretty blue eyes, bright as they stare at you. She's got a small smile, head tilted slightly as her eyes roam your face. You blush at the intensity of her gaze, still not familiar to the privilege of getting to look at her every single day.

Leah pulls you to her so you're laying over her chest. You snuggle closer, bringing your knees up, and making yourself comfortable. "You should get one.."

An eyebrow raise. She presses her lips together, holding in a laugh. "Wha-- a Ballon D'or? Bit hard to do as a defender, love"

"No," You roll your eyes, petulantly. You shake your head. The soft swish of your hair moves, a playful flutter through your locks thanks to your freshly blow-out. "a Dior"

Leah laughs. The kind of laugh where she throws her head back, crinkles form by the corner of her eyes, and her entire body contorts, uninhibited, because of you. It’s the curve of her neck, the subtle arch of their brow, the way her breath catches just before another laugh bursts free.

"C'mere" Her hand grasps the side of your neck, squeezing it gently, a few lingering chuckles leave her lips. She pulls you closer, pecking your lips once, then twice.

"I’ll get you your Ballon Dior"

back on my spoiled!reader x leah bs. she's just a girl (wants her Ballon Dior)

thank you to the anon who sent the request <333 i hope you love it even if i changed it a lil bit <333

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[runnning-outof-time]

Someone For Christmas - Tommy Shelby x Reader

“You’ve been a better man since she’s entered your life, Thomas,” Polly commented, a knowing look present on her face, “don’t go back to the man you were before her.”

She was the first to visit the brooding Tommy Shelby that evening, and she brought back to light all of the poor choices he’d made in the past.

“She’s done way more for you than anyone else has,” Ada said as she sat down across from her brother, “I see how she helps you every day. Only a fool would let her go, Tom.”

Tommy stared straight ahead at the Christmas tree as his sister rehashed all of the correct decisions he’d made recently…and she made sure to point out how the woman being mentioned was part of every one.

“I really like her, dad,” five year old Charles Shelby’s voice was soft as he held onto the doorknob of his father’s study. “Will she come back for Christmas?”

This time, Tommy looked at the person ��� the third of the day — addressing him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “I…I, I don’t know, son,” was all he managed to get out.

“Why’d you call me here, Tommy?”

This time Tommy Shelby was the one who requested a visitor.

“I wanted to speak to you,” he answered, not realizing how business forward the sentence sounded until it left his lips. The fact that her one eyebrow quirked upward immediately after he finished speaking told him that he’d be fighting an up-hill battle.

“About?” she asked, her guard still very much up. She couldn’t believe he called her back again….she couldn’t believe she gave in and listened, again.

“I need you to come back, (Y/N),” he decided it’d be best not to dance around the subject.

“If you want to win me back, that’s not how you do it,” she blatantly responded. Tommy sighed, running a hand over his face. “Did someone put you up to this?” she then asked another question, “because it seemed like where we stood was pretty final the last time we spoke.”

“Charlie came to me,” he chose the one out of his previous three visitors who he felt would cut through her reinforcements the deepest. “He said he missed you, asked if you’d be here for Christmas. He really likes you.”

“I really like him too,” a soft smile formed on (Y/N)’s face as she thought of the boy. Tommy thought he was finally gaining some headway. “Shame his father’s a terrible man,” she couldn’t resist getting a dig in.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy locked eyes with her, a deadpanned expression present on his features.

“You brought this upon yourself,” she didn’t crumble under his gaze, instead returning it to him.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” he paused to sigh, pressing the pads of his thumb and index finger against his eyelids, “this meeting was meant to be an extension of an olive branch.”

“Tommy Shelby offering peace?” the surprise was clear in (Y/N)’s voice as her eyes widened greatly. “Well I’ll be damned…it’s a Christmas miracle!” her sarcastic comment had him sending another glare her way. She couldn’t help but smile at it…she was having fun getting under his skin.

A moment’s pause fell over the conversation as Tommy took some time to regain himself. There was no use blowing this up to more than it had to be. He knew (Y/N) was trying to push his buttons, and he had to hand it to her…she was succeeding. There was no hiding the fact that they had some things that they needed to hash out, and he had no doubt that they’d get to that soon enough. Christmas Eve wasn’t the time for that though. Right now all that he could think of was his son, and how he so desperately wanted someone other than his preoccupied father sitting beside him in front of the Christmas tree come tomorrow morning.

“Will you accept it?” he finally asked, affirming that he wanted no parts of getting into the details of the animosity that stood between them.

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to think. She truly did love Charlie, even if his father had been getting on her nerves as of recently. What she didn’t want was this to seem like her seceding to him so quickly. If he wanted her back this time, he was going to have to work for it.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy called out, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the conversation they were having.

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him again. His eyes were already intently on her, and she knew that he wouldn’t wait much longer for her response. Thankfully she’d decided - right now they didn’t need to discuss what their future would look like…right now they needed to focus on going one day at a time.

So with that in mind, she answered him: “everyone should have someone for Christmas…” she paused, letting those words sink in for a moment before she added the second half of her statement: “and right now, that’s all you’ll have me for.”

A/N: congrats on 17k, Chi! I’m sorry that wasn’t able to write something more than these few lines. This was my take on the movie/book A Christmas Carol - I hope it came across as such.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @succubaby @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[whistlewritesforfun]

I paced the cold floor of the stone-room. The little squares of colorful rock as familiar to me as the faces of the immortals. There was a strange scent in the air that I didn’t like. The immortal hobbled in, catching my attention. I ceased my pacing, turning and raising my head to greet her.

I sniffed in. The scent was coming from her in waves. Her small patch of fur was thinner than I remembered. This immortal in particular had taken me and my mother with her after departing from what I assumed to be the immortals parents. I still remember the long journey from inside the roaring red beast.

My mother had passed as well a long time ago. It was me and the immortal now, as well as the yammering bird she kept in her room.

I pushed my nose into the back of her leg, then sat and looked up at her, my tail wagging slightly. She made those little cooing noises she always did and tossed me a little piece of food. For once, I ignored it. Favoring instead to push my nose into her leg again. She looked down at me with concern.

She bent, her face coming close to mine as she took her large paws and gently gripped my head. There was a question in her yipping. Unfortunately one I couldn’t fully understand.

“Tally? Wizz le rothin tong?” Is what it sounded like. I knew very few other dogs who could understand their immortals. I knew only that to her my name was Tally.

For weeks I followed her dutifully. Some days she would leave me alone for a very long time before she returned. Not at her usual schedule dictated. The scent would be especially strong when she came back.

One day she returned. Dropped some white square leaves. Then plummeted into the soft rock. I leapt up beside her. The stench today was more subdued. My immortal sobbed suddenly, and pulled me into her chest. The grave feeling of wrongness was not lost on me.

She laid like that for hours… until eventually falling into sleep. Restless sleep. She was supposed to endure. Mother always told me that the immortals were impervious to age… much unlike us dogs. We were meant to guard them from any exterior harm that could in fact hurt them.

But this… this wasn’t age. This wasn’t anything I could protect her from. I didn’t understand what it was exactly. The smell of it told me that it was tearing her apart however. It was the smell of death on her breath. The increased lack of fur on her head. At times she’d spend forever looking into the time-frozen water in her den, fussing over her fur.

Whatever was killing her, I could not stop. My role of guardian was rendered useless. I cannot save her. My purpose now is to protect her from sorrow. A task I know in the end, I shall likely fail. I will endeavor to try nonetheless.

For a few months, the immortal did not leave the house for those visits as usual. At times, other immortals would enter the den under my watchful eye. Many would assist with the usual chores that she could no longer complete. Some of them would even gently pat me on the head.

There was a somber feeling in the darkness of the den. One of the immortals more familiar to me by this point came one day and never left. He was gentle and kind to my immortal, and very nice to me as well. I liked him quite a lot. My immortal called him Wilson, and her called her Sarah. I believe that’s her name… I cannot remember if I’d ever heard it uttered before.

Wilson stayed in the den with me and Sarah. He was part of the pack now. He brought her fake fur to wear on her head. He would feed me at dinner time. He would clean the shiny rocks the immortals ate off of. He seemed to care a great deal.

Sarah never left her soft bed anymore. I would often curl up next to her at night. One morning the sun rose, I went to nose her face as I normally did. She did not rouse. I sniffed her skin, licking the cold surface.

Death had fallen sweetly upon her in the night. I could not ward it off. I had only the hope that she was sleeping when the last whisper of breath left her lungs.

Wilson burst into the room upon my howl of anguish. He was just as sorrowful as I was. He stayed with her a long while, at some point he used the little rectangle I’d seen every immortal use at some point.

For only a little while we stayed in somber silence with Sarah, until more immortals came and took her. I tried to fight them away and recover her, but Wilson held me back and pushed me into my tiny cave and shut the barred door of it.

I never fought so hard to escape from it as I did then. I wanted to reach Sarah. I stayed there for a long time before Wilson tearfully retrieved me.

I trusted him. He had been Sarah’s guardian when I could not suffice. I swore that in return, I’d try to protect him as I had failed to protect Sarah.

You are tenth generation honor guard for the Immortals. As far back as pack memory goes, the Immortals have provided food, shelter, and scritches. You fully expected them to outlive you as they did your grandmother and her grandmother before her. But something's wrong. The alpha… is dying.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 108: Fear

Don't get me wrong, that panel with Twilight remembering his friends was beautiful. I think he feels nostalgic for that connection with other people. However, I think what really caught my attention in this chapter was Melinda.

Come on, look at this:

Look at this face of terror. And she was just remembering her husband's eyes!

A long time ago, when we just met Melinda, I wrote this theory about her being afraid of her husband. Today, it was finally confirmed.

I feel so sad for her. Melinda has probably been carrying this alone for a long time. I doubt she's shared her fears with any friends or family members because, who would believe the illustrious political leader could be an abusive man? This is especially true if there's no actual physical violence in the relationship. However, like I said before, violence is more than that.

Something tells me that the violence in their relationship is mostly psychological. Donovan Desmond uses his authority to tell Melinda what to do, to create fear, to keep her away from their children.

Melinda appears as such a composed woman who has her life together in front of others, and only someone as emotionally perceptive and caring as Yor would notice something is wrong. There's a shame component in abusive relationships: "How did this happen to me? I used to be so strong and brave," combined with disbelief: "Am I overreacting? Is he really that bad? Why am I afraid of him if he hasn't really done anything to me?"

Hopefully, in time, Melinda will realize that fear is not only her responsibility; even if her husband wasn't physically abusive, his behavior caused her fear.

Without a doubt is a complicated issue, which brings me to something that will probably complicate things even more:

Yup, Twilight.

I'll admit that this is the first time that I felt very uncomfortable with what Twilight is about to do, but that's exactly the point. Good fiction/literature is suppose to move something within us, even if at times, it makes us feel uncomfortable.

You probably imagine why: Melinda is a person in dire need of therapy. She deserves (and needs!) a true professional and instead, she getting someone who is only trying to gather information.

HOWEVER...

Time and again, Twilight has shown that despite his line of work, he'll always try to do the right thing and the least amount of harm. So, I'm hoping he will apply that in this specific situation. My guess is that it will start as a way to get information (his classic "for the mission") but then, as Melinda opens up, he will actually give her good advice and hopefully empower her, as a real therapist would do!

Something else to keep in mind is that Melinda story of domestic violence could trigger Twilight himself in some way, given his own family history. We will have to wait to see how that goes.

Bonus

A final note on Melinda's beliefs in occultism: it makes sense.

I won't comment too much on the specific meaning of the cards because my knowledge is limited and I'm skeptical about that. But I will say that it makes sense that someone with so much fear and uncertainty in her life would believe in something that would bring her reassurance that everything will be okay or try to know the future in order to protect herself. (I really want to give Melinda a hug.)

On the other hand, you know who doesn't believe in that?:

Yup, our dear Becky, who is one of the most authentic character in sxf, who is protected and loved by her parents and Martha. That makes sense too.