#almost halfway through another book

[underwaterraven]

Nanowrimo Day 8

Today's word count: 8,038

Total word count: 35,096

Only meant to do 6k words today, but I started early so decided to get some extra words in.

[aidenwaites]

I didn't have any real expectations for the Warm Bodies sequels bc the first book was so good as a standalone BUT 1. They're very good and 2. R and Julie's relationship is so,,

[kikuism]

i finished five broken blades

[ranger-kellyn]

this dialogue is extra hilarious in this context:

"By the way…Do you know of the Scarlet Book?”

-Never heard of it

"Really? Well, that’s unexpected.  I’m quite sure at least one copy was donated to this school."

[plethorawrites]

How the batboys would react to you labeling them as your property.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce: You'd been helping Alfred label things in the attic all day and at the end, you print one extra, pressing a sticker that had "Property of—" your name written on it. You stuck it on the breast pocket of his suit before an event you weren't able to go to because of other obligations, just to make sure no one else would try to flirt with him and he didn't even notice until halfway through the evening. It was the most peace and quiet he'd gotten in a while (Aside from a picture in the press with a headline that read "BRUCE WAYNE SO SMITTEN HE'S BECOMING PROPERTY".) When he got home, he gave you a small disapproving glare and pulled it off, watching you frown dramatically. A few days later he hands you a small box with the label inside of it, properly laminated and made into a little pin for him to wear to any event you couldn't be there for.

---

Dick: You bought a label maker and were OBSESSED with it, to say the least. What started as a project to organize some cabinets and spices turned into the entire apartment becoming labeled with item names or the stuff that specifically belonged to him or you. You labeled your milk, because you knew he'd finish your very specific kind without caring. You labeled your hairbrush, in hopes he'd stop getting his hair in it whenever he used yours because he couldn't find his. And you labeled him. He frowned, feeling you place something on his back and shrugged his jacket off, checking to see what it was. Your name had been printed on a label, attached to it his jacket. He smirked in amusement, watching you shrug lightly as if you had no idea why he was grinning. Then, he pulled it back on, taking the label maker from you and officially revoking your privileges as he offered to take you lunch, not bothering to pull the label off.

---

Jason: You were bored, watching from the couch as he read quietly one evening in his favorite chair. You spent all day organizing stuff around the apartment on his day off with him occasionally looking up to glance at you before turning a page. When you were finally done, he was still reading, almost at the end of the book in his hands. You fiddled with the label maker, pressing some buttons and printing out your name next to the words 'loves Jason' and then stuck it to his sleeve. He didn't even glance at it. So you printed another. And another. Until his sleeve was mostly full, so you stuck the next one on his cheek. That finally broke him and his lips tugged into a reluctant smile, having known the entire time what label you'd been attaching to him. He set the finished book down and pulled the label maker out of your hand, printing one that said he loves you in return, and sticking it on your shoulder before getting up and tackling you on the couch, his arms wrapping around your waist, tickling you as he buried his face in your neck while you laughed.

[faebled-stories]

The Touch of Time

Kinkvember Day 15: Breeding

Aespa Winter (Kim Minjeong) x Male reader

11.6k words

AN: We are halfway done! This is the longest fic so far, I really enjoyed the concept. Thank you all for the continuous support💖

In the distant future, humanity had shed many of the biological “weaknesses” that once defined it. From the moment of birth, every individual was fitted with a slim, almost invisible patch on their abdomen. This patch, designed to suppress primal desires and impulses, was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the control of human behavior. Gone were the distractions of physical intimacy, the emotional turbulence tied to desire, and the chaotic unpredictability of natural reproduction.

DNA was now quietly harvested from a simple strand of hair, and reproduction took place in sterile laboratories, pristine and efficient. Physical touch, especially in the context of intimacy, was considered primitive, even taboo—an unnecessary relic of a less evolved past.

Minjeong, a young historian with an insatiable curiosity for the “old ways,” had always felt slightly out of place in this world. Her field of study focused on the intricacies of ancient human customs, the rituals and behaviors that had once bound people together. She spent her days in archives and libraries, poring over fragments of lives long gone.

Sometimes, in moments of quiet reflection, she wondered what it might have been like to live in a time when physical connection hadn’t been stifled by a patch. Yet, even with her questions, she had never truly dared to challenge the norms she had grown up with—until the day she discovered the book.

It was hidden, almost intentionally, in a shadowed corner of the university's vast, neglected library, coated in dust as if the world had tried to forget it. The cover was nondescript, worn smooth by time, with no title to hint at its contents. But as Minjeong opened it, a chill crept down her spine, and her heart began to pound.

The pages held something she had only read about in the most clinical terms: they described, in startling detail, how humans had once procreated—naturally, through touch, mutual pleasure, and deep, emotional connection. These words, so evocative and raw, held an intimacy she had never encountered, not even in fleeting dreams. The patch she wore had always silenced any stray curiosity about such things, but now, as she read each vivid passage, something unfamiliar and undeniable began to awaken inside her.

As she pored over the descriptions, a strange, tingling warmth spread through her body. She could hardly believe what she was reading—the language spoke of touch, skin meeting skin, the rush of unrestrained joy, sensations too elusive to truly grasp, yet undeniably alluring. She felt a pull, as though the book was leading her somewhere deeper within herself, a place she hadn’t known existed.

She kept reading, page after page, her cheeks flushing, her breath catching at times as she envisioned the “lost art” of human connection. What would it feel like, she wondered, to touch another person like that? To be touched, to share in a pleasure as mutual and instinctive as the book described.

Unable to contain her fascination, Minjeong decided to share her discovery with her friends. She met Karina, Giselle, and Ningning at their usual café, a sleek establishment with an atmosphere as controlled and pristine as the society it served. They were her closest friends, the only ones who tolerated her historical musings, though they saw them as mere eccentricities.

As they sipped on perfectly brewed coffee, Minjeong took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain.

“So,” Minjeong began, her voice edged with excitement and trepidation, “I found this book in the library. It’s about... how humans used to procreate, you know, before the patch system.”

Giselle’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a dismissive laugh. “Oh, here we go again. Minjeong, your obsession with ancient history is cute and all, but nobody wants to hear about people being all... gross and sweaty with each other.”

Minjeong’s face fell, but she pushed on, determined. “It’s not gross. It’s fascinating. The book describes the way they used to connect physically—how touch meant something. They had this thing called ‘orgasms,’ where their bodies would—”

“Orgasms?” Karina interrupted, giggling incredulously. “You mean, like, they’d enjoy rubbing up against each other? Like animals? That’s seriously disgusting.”

Ningning made a face, shaking her head. “I mean, why would anyone want that? We’ve evolved past that kind of stuff for a reason. I can’t even imagine wanting someone to touch me like that. Ugh.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed, but she pressed on, hoping to convey what she had felt while reading. “But don’t you see? It wasn’t just about the physical. The book talks about an emotional bond, a connection we can’t even comprehend anymore. Doesn’t that make you curious?”

Giselle leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Curious? More like horrified. People used to waste time on that nonsense when we have perfectly good tech now. Why would anyone choose to go back to those primitive, messy days?”

Ningning chimed in, her tone a mix of disbelief and pity. “And for what, unnie? So we could feel... what exactly? A little thrill? That’s why we have simulations and sensory upgrades. Why would you even want something so... physical?”

“It’s not about just feeling something,” Minjeong said softly, though her voice shook. “It’s about connection. The book talks about something that went beyond just pleasure or physicality. It describes a bond, an intimacy that’s emotional, even spiritual. Don’t you ever wonder what that would be like?”

Her friends exchanged glances, almost as if they were silently agreeing that Minjeong had gone a step too far.

Karina crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “Honestly, Minjeong, you’re starting to sound a little obsessed. You’ve read too many old books, and now you’re idealizing a time when people barely understood themselves, let alone each other. It’s sad, really, how desperate they were.”

“Yeah,” Ningning agreed, shaking her head slowly. “You’re talking about a past that’s been left behind for a reason. I mean, if it was so great, why didn’t people keep doing it? They moved on, unnie. We all have.”

The conversation shifted soon after, with the others eagerly diving into discussions of their daily lives, work, and the latest technological advancements. Minjeong felt a heavy ache in her chest as she realized her friends couldn’t understand, and worse, they had no desire to try.

She thought of the book’s vivid descriptions—the gentle brush of fingers on skin, the shared gasps of pleasure, the promise of something deeper than she had ever known. It was as if she had stumbled upon a secret hidden within herself, and now, in the presence of her friends, that secret felt more precious but also more isolating.

Karina glanced at her, almost scolding. “Listen, Minjeong, you should probably stop reading stuff like that before it gets too far into your head. You’ll end up wanting things that just... don’t exist anymore.”

As they laughed and changed the subject, Minjeong stayed quiet, her mind lingering on the words in the book, replaying them in her thoughts like a forbidden melody. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was more than just a historical relic. It was a portal to something lost yet profoundly human—something she had been denied all her life.

Over the next few days, Minjeong’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the book. The descriptions of intimacy, of deep pleasure, and undeniable connection replayed in her head, each line lingering like a tantalizing whisper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had glimpsed something profound, something long buried beneath the surface of her controlled world. The idea of experiencing real touch, raw and unfiltered, was impossible to ignore.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, she decided to track down the author. The book seemed modern enough that she guessed its writer might still be alive. Hours of searching through online records and old archives finally led her to a name, yours.

She imagined you as an older scholar, perhaps with a lifetime of wisdom etched into your eyes—a figure hardened by years of research and deep understanding. But when she met you, her expectations unraveled. You were young, intense, and enigmatic, with a kind of fire in your gaze that spoke of passions and convictions hidden beneath the surface. In your eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected: the same fascination with the past, the same relentless hunger to understand what had been lost.

Sitting across from each other in a quiet café, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how differently you seemed to see the world. As you talked, your expressions shifted with each thought, a flash of yearning in your eyes that mirrored her own. Your voice carried a weight, each word carefully chosen as if guarding a truth no one else would understand.

“It’s strange,” she murmured, stirring her tea slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve spent so long studying history, but I never realized how disconnected I feel from… everything. And then I read your book, and it felt like something inside me woke up, something that had been quiet my entire life.”

You leaned forward, a softness in your gaze that made her feel seen. “I know exactly what you mean,” you replied, your voice low and warm. “That’s why I wrote it. I wanted to preserve something real, something that made us human. The world today—it’s too sanitized, too empty. The patch has robbed us of something vital, something that our ancestors once cherished.”

She paused, uncertain whether to share her feelings about the reactions she’d faced from her friends. But your understanding eyes, the way you listened as if her words were precious, made her feel safe.

“My friends… they don’t understand,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They think it’s disgusting to even consider physical touch or intimacy. When I tried to tell them about the book, they laughed. They don’t want to imagine it, let alone experience it. I feel… so alone.”

Your expression softened as you listened, and you hesitated just a moment before reaching out, your hand hovering near hers. The space between your fingers felt charged, almost electric. “You’re not alone, Minjeong,” you said, voice steady yet full of emotion. “I’ve thought about it constantly, too. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take off the patch… to feel something real. But… I’ve never met anyone who would even consider it.”

Her heart pounded at your words, the thought flickering to life in her mind. She had been wondering the same thing for days—the possibility of removing the patch and experiencing everything the book described. Just imagining it made her pulse quicken, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“Do you think…” Minjeong hesitated, searching your face. “Do you think we could try it? Take off the patch?”

You looked at her in surprise, something deeper stirring in your eyes—a longing that mirrored her own. “You mean… actually take it off?” you murmured. “You know it’s illegal, right?”

She nodded, feeling her breath catch, a flutter of thrill and nerves swelling in her chest. “Yes. I know. But… I want to know what it’s like. With you.” She paused, swallowing. “We just met but... I trust you.”

The air around you seemed to shift, growing thicker with the unspoken possibility lingering between you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing gently against her arm, and even this slight contact sent a jolt through her, a strange warmth spreading from the place where your skin met hers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes locked on hers. “Once we do this, Minjeong, we can’t go back.”

She met your gaze, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and something else—an ache she couldn’t explain. “I’m sure.”

The decision was made. Together, you prepared to take a step into the unknown, an act that felt both terrifying and thrilling. Moving in tandem towards stillness of your apartment, everything seemed sharper, as though the air itself were holding its breath with you. Minjeong lay down on your bed, her breathing shallow, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

With a steadying breath, she began to strip, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She lifted her shirt over her head, revealing smooth, bare skin and the soft fabric of her bra hugging her form. Her fingers hesitated briefly before slipping down to unbutton her pants, sliding them off her legs until she stood there, clad only in her bra and panties. The small, smooth patch on her abdomen glinted faintly in the soft light—a mark of society’s control that had rested there for as long as she could remember.

To Minjeong, that patch represented a lifetime of safety, control, and order. It was all she had ever known, a constant presence that quieted any restless stirrings she might have felt. And yet, now, with you beside her, that little patch seemed more like a barrier—a thin, deceptive shield that stood between her and a life of real, unbridled sensation. For the first time, she felt ready to shed it.

You knelt beside her, heart hammering as your fingers hovered just above her skin. A thousand questions flickered in your mind, but one glance at Minjeong’s face told you she felt the same determination you did. This was an uncharted intimacy, raw and vulnerable, and as you gently laid your hand on her side, you felt the heat of her skin, warm and alive beneath your touch.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the room could be shattered by any louder sound.

Minjeong’s eyes met yours, filled with a trust so complete it took your breath away. She nodded, her voice a delicate thread. “I trust you.”

With a deep breath, you carefully examined the patch, your fingers brushing over its edges, searching for the small, hidden stitches. You had studied its design and knew the mechanics, but this was different. Here was Minjeong, lying before you, vulnerable, willing to let you unlock something deeply forbidden.

Your fingers found the first stitch, and with painstaking care, you began to unfasten it. Each small movement felt weighted with meaning, every shift of your hand a step further into the unknown. As you worked, a tiny prick of resistance tugged back each time you pulled at a stitch, as though the patch itself knew what you were doing, as though it was reluctant to release its hold.

A soft, sharp gasp escaped Minjeong’s lips halfway through, her hand instinctively reaching for you. She clutched your arm tightly, her grip firm yet trembling as she squeezed. Her breaths came quicker, each inhale shallow, as though her body itself were already bracing for the world that lay beyond the patch’s control.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice gentle and soothing. You brushed your thumb softly against her arm, steadying her. “Hang in there, okay?”

Your words seemed to ground her, and slowly, she nodded, her face easing as she held onto you. The tension in her shoulders melted just enough for you to continue, and she focused on your voice, your touch, letting the pain drift away.

Finally, the last stitch slipped free. The patch gave way with a faint click, and as you lifted it, Minjeong’s entire body tensed, then softened in a single, breathless moment. Her eyes widened, a gasp catching in her throat as a strange warmth began to spread beneath her skin.

It felt like an electric current, a gentle buzz awakening nerves that had long been asleep. Her pulse quickened, beating fiercely against her ribs, echoing in her ears as her senses seemed to open, stretching in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

The air felt sharper, the softness of the bed more pronounced against her back, the sound of your breathing louder, more intimate. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she blinked up at you, her gaze dazed, overwhelmed by the torrent of sensations flooding her.

Your own breath hitched as you watched her, feeling the weight of her unguarded trust, the openness in her gaze. Her vulnerability mirrored your own, and it gave you the courage to act. With a steeling breath, you reached for your patch, the small, oppressive mark that had governed your life for so long.

Your fingers trembled as you slipped them beneath its edges, the adhesive resisting your touch. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the pain. Gritting your teeth, you tugged hard. A sharp, searing ache ripped through your side, fiery and almost unbearable, as if the patch was trying to hold on, refusing to let go of the control it had over you.

But then it came free, leaving your skin raw and tingling, and you gasped, clutching the small device in your hand.

As the pain faded, a new sensation filled the space it left—a pulse of energy that rushed through your body, illuminating every nerve. The world sharpened around you, clearer, more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted. The faint hum of distant noises, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed—everything felt magnified, brimming with a life you had never felt before.

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, eyes wide, barely able to process the surge of sensations overwhelming you both. Each heartbeat, each breath, seemed to resonate with newfound depth, rippling through you in waves.

You looked at her, marveling at the transformation in her expression, her eyes wide and glistening with wonder. She looked back, her face a reflection of the awe you felt, a silent affirmation that you were both feeling something real, something profound.

“Do you feel it?” you asked softly, voice hushed with reverence, your gaze locked with hers.

Minjeong nodded, her lips parting as her voice came in a soft, breathless whisper. “I feel… everything.”

Without the patch, every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, alive with a rawness that left Minjeong dizzy. Her senses felt heightened, each nerve sparking as if awakened for the first time. The air seemed thicker, charged with an energy she could almost taste, and her skin buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity. When you reached out, gently placing your hand on her thigh, her entire body jolted as a wave of warmth spread from where your hand rested, pulsing outward. Her breath hitched, her heart thudding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, craving more of this strange, electric feeling she couldn’t name.

Your hand moved slowly, almost reverently, sliding higher as your fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. Each tiny movement sent sparks through her body, lighting up places within her that had been silent all her life. Minjeong’s body quivered, her skin hyperaware of every inch you touched, as if your fingers were leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her hips shifted involuntarily, her body responding to you with an eagerness she barely understood but couldn’t resist.

When your fingers brushed over the delicate place between her legs, a flood of sensation hit her, and her control snapped, unraveling as her entire being reacted to that single touch. The pressure, the intensity—it was overwhelming. She felt her body arch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a surge of heat radiated through her, more powerful than anything she could have imagined.

“Oh—oh my God,” Minjeong gasped, her voice trembling as her hips bucked against your hand, her body acting on instincts that felt both new and achingly familiar.

You froze for a moment, watching her with wide eyes as her body trembled under your touch. Minjeong’s breath came in short, desperate bursts, her chest rising and falling as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged within her. She reached out, clutching at your arm as if you were her anchor, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—a deep, unspoken yearning.

“What’s happening to me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless, as her body shook, caught in a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You looked down at her, your gaze filled with understanding and warmth, as if you knew exactly what she was feeling. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, you leaned closer, your voice low and soothing. “I... I think you just had an orgasm.”

The word echoed in her mind, stirring memories of the book’s descriptions—the culmination of human intimacy, the apex of physical connection that had always seemed like a distant concept.

She remembered the clinical language, the detached explanations, and realized just how shallow those words had been. They hadn’t prepared her for this—something so consuming, so raw it made her feel as though she was discovering a part of herself that had been hidden all her life.

Her fingers tightened around your arm, anchoring herself as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her, each one leaving her a little more breathless. “That was... an orgasm?” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you watched her, your expression filled with tenderness and awe. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just like in the book... but maybe better than either of us ever imagined.”

Minjeong lay back, her mind reeling, as her body continued to hum with the afterglow of pleasure. She felt alive, awake in a way she’d never known before, as though she’d unlocked something deeply hidden within her. She had just experienced an orgasm—something her body had been denied all her life, a sensation so visceral it left her trembling.

“I... I didn’t think it would feel like that,” She admitted, her voice soft and still a bit unsteady. She looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. “It felt... so much more than anything I read. It was like... like I was completely free, like I’d let go of something I’d been holding onto forever.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing her cheek in a gentle, grounding touch. Your gaze was steady, filled with warmth, as if you truly understood what she was feeling. “It’s different when you experience it,” you said softly, your voice soothing. “The patch kept it all locked away for so long... it makes sense it would feel this intense.”

As the waves of her orgasm began to subside, a new feeling stirred within Minjeong��an instinctual curiosity, an urge she hadn’t anticipated. She felt an almost primal desire to reciprocate, to touch you the way you had touched her. If her body had responded so powerfully, so completely, to your touch, what would happen if she reached out to you?

The thought of seeing you experience that same kind of release, of watching your body tremble and surrender to pleasure, sent a fresh surge of excitement coursing through her, a thrill that made her heartbeat quicken.

Without hesitation, she shifted closer, her fingers reaching out tentatively to trace a line down your stomach. The feeling of your skin under her fingertips felt both foreign and exhilarating. She could feel your muscles tense beneath her touch, your breath hitching as her hand drifted lower, guided by a mixture of curiosity and a lingering echo of the sensations she’d just experienced.

Her movements were deliberate yet hesitant, testing the boundaries of her newfound courage. Slowly, Minjeong’s fingers found the waistband of your pants. With a slight glance up, her gaze met yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she hooked her fingers into the fabric, tugging them down along with your boxers in a single motion, exposing you completely. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop.

Her hand moved with a new confidence, wrapping around you gently, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through your body. You exhaled sharply, the sensation overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but notice the way your body responded instantly to her. A soft groan escaped your lips, your hips shifting slightly toward her touch as if your body was seeking more.

She began to move her hand slowly, cautiously, her strokes experimental but deliberate, guided by what she’d read and a deep, unspoken desire to bring you the same kind of pleasure she’d just felt. The weight and heat beneath her palm were new, almost intoxicating, as she adjusted to the rhythm that seemed to draw those delicious, throaty sounds from you.

“Minjeong…” Your voice was low, breathless, your eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she whispered, her determination evident in the way her strokes became more confident. “I want you to feel what I felt.”

Her hand moved steadily, her touch becoming bolder as your body reacted to her. She felt the tension ripple through your muscles, your breathing growing heavier with every passing moment. Each groan, each subtle arch of your hips, sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her desire to keep going.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as her pace quickened, her strokes more purposeful now. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you. She watched your face, captivated, as the tension in your body built toward an inevitable release, your hips moving in time with her hand in a desperate, instinctual rhythm.

Minjeong’s curiosity got the better of her as she adjusted her position, leaning closer to get a better look. Her eyes lingered on every detail, mesmerized by how your body responded to her touch. She wanted to see everything, to witness the effect she had on you up close. Her hand continued its rhythm, her strokes steady and deliberate, her lips slightly parted in concentration as her gaze stayed fixed on you.

Then, with a deep, guttural moan, your body tensed, your muscles tightening as your climax surged through you. Minjeong’s eyes widened as she felt the first sudden, hot burst against her hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart pounding as she watched, unable to look away. The release was powerful, shooting hard and fast, catching her completely off guard.

A warm streak hit her cheek and trailed down to her jaw, while more landed on her neck and pooled in her hands. Her breath hitched as she stared, her lips parting in astonishment at the sight. The moment felt surreal, intimate, and raw, leaving her stunned and unsure of what to say or do.

Her face flushed a deep red as she glanced up at you, her hand still resting lightly against you. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Did I… did we waste it? I-It’s supposed to… you know… go inside.” Her gaze flicked nervously between you and the evidence pooling in her hands, uncertainty clouding her features.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from the high, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the glazed expression softening as you met her worried gaze. A gentle smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a low, reassuring chuckle.

“No, Minjeong,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t mess up. This… this is normal. You did everything right.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, her lips curving into a shy, tentative smile as she glanced down at the evidence of her effect on you. Still holding it in her hands, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Despite her initial embarrassment, a flicker of pride warmed her chest—she’d brought you to this moment, and it filled her with an intoxicating mix of exhilaration and wonder.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered on her hands, her fingers glistening with the warm remnants of your release. A curious expression crossed her face as she processed everything, her mind racing. She had read about this before—about the way a man’s body reacted at the height of pleasure—but witnessing it firsthand, feeling the heat of it against her skin, was entirely different. It was raw, intimate, and strangely captivating.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Almost without thinking, she tilted her hand, letting a small trail of it slide down her finger. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at you as if seeking silent permission. Then, emboldened by the heat still lingering between you, she brought her finger to her lips.

The taste was unexpected—salty, slightly bitter—but it sent a shudder through her, her body reacting instinctively. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she licked her lips, the unfamiliar sensation heightening the arousal already simmering within her. The intimacy of the act, the knowledge that it came from you, made her heartbeat quicken.

Minjeong glanced up at you, her eyes dark with unspoken emotion, the lingering taste on her lips seeming to ignite something deeper within her. “It’s… different,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with a quiet, almost shy desire. Yet there was no mistaking the spark in her gaze as she leaned closer, her curiosity and arousal intertwining in a way that left her yearning for more.

“But… what now?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Does it… does it take a long time to… I don’t know… come back?”

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reached for the edge of the blanket, wiping yourself clean, your gaze warm and understanding. “No, not as long as you’d think,” you replied softly. “Just give me a minute… trust me, with the way I’m feeling right now? It won’t take long.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed as she felt the tension still pulsing between them, an intensity that hadn’t faded but had only grown stronger. Though her body had already released once, it was still alive with a hum of anticipation, craving more of the closeness that had only begun to reveal itself. Her skin felt sensitive, every inch of her alive and awake, and the desire that lingered between you both seemed almost endless.

As you pulled her close, your breath warm against her ear, your voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. “The desire… it’s unbearable, isn’t it? We’ve held it back for so long… now that it’s free, it’s hard to stop.”

She nodded, her own breath catching as she leaned into you, feeling the heat radiating from your body. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s like… I can’t get enough.”

Your hands drifted down her back, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths that sent tingles down her spine, igniting her senses further. With deliberate care, you reached for the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and sliding the straps down her arms, exposing her to your gaze. She shivered under your touch, the anticipation in her eyes mirrored by the rising heat between you. Gently, you guided her panties down her hips, leaving her completely bare before you.

You leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone, each one drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Your mouth trailed lower, worshipping her with every kiss as you explored her body, your lips brushing against her chest, stomach, and hips. The warmth of your touch and the intimacy of your kisses set her skin ablaze, her body trembling beneath you as your affection deepened the connection between you.

She could feel you stirring beneath her, your body responding just as eagerly, recovering quickly and pressing against her with a palpable urgency. Her heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized just how deeply this hunger ran—not fading, but growing, expanding with each heartbeat, filling every part of her with a yearning she hadn’t known was possible.

Her voice barely a whisper, she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with desire. “I… I want to do it again.”

A flicker of something intense crossed your gaze, desire deepening in your eyes as her words sank in. You leaned in close, your fingers trailing down her stomach with a deliberate slowness, and her body reacted to your touch as if it had been waiting for it all along, each caress building a tension that left her breathless. “Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We can take our time… explore every part of this together.”

Minjeong felt her pulse quicken as your hand drifted lower, each touch more confident, and yet filled with care. There was no rush this time—each movement, each gentle caress felt purposeful, as though you were savoring every moment. Her breath hitched as your fingers found her center, brushing over her with a tenderness that set her body alight. She could feel her hips lifting involuntarily, craving more of your touch, her body arching toward you, completely attuned to the rhythm you were setting.

But you held back, your movements measured, each stroke a deliberate invitation to surrender. Minjeong’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers twisting in them as she fought to keep some sense of control, but every motion of your hand sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her, slowly eroding any restraint she had left. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts blurred as she gave in to the sensations, letting herself feel every spark, every touch.

Your voice, soft and steady, cut through the haze, anchoring her. “I’ll follow what the book says,” you murmured, your tone reassuring yet filled with quiet excitement. “But you can tell me if anything feels too intense… we can go as slow as you want.”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with trust and anticipation, nodding as her voice caught in her throat. She watched as you reached for the book—the one you’d written, your meticulous research woven into its pages—flipping to a section that you both had studied countless times. Back then, the words were abstract, a roadmap for a journey neither of you had truly embarked on. Now, they felt vivid, alive, as you stood on the edge of turning theory into reality.

Your voice was steady but tinged with wonder as you read aloud, revisiting the descriptions of intimacy that had once seemed so clinical. “This part,” you murmured, “it’s about connection—real, physical connection. It says to feel, not just to touch. To be present in every moment.”

You set the book down beside you, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to her skin. Following your own written guidance, you traced a line down her arm, feeling the softness of her flesh, your touch lingering. “Even after all my research,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never understood how different this would feel. How real.”

Minjeong shivered at your words, her lips parting as your fingers brushed her thigh, gliding lower to gently spread her legs. Her breath hitched, her body already responding to the unspoken promise in your touch. “It says to let the connection build naturally,” you continued, your tone soft yet deliberate. “No rushing, no hesitation… just us.”

Your hand slid between her folds, your fingers moving slowly, reverently, as if committing every detail to memory. Her hips bucked instinctively against your touch, and the sound of her soft moan filled the room. The book’s instructions felt distant now, a framework that was giving way to something far more instinctual, far more profound.

As you continued to explore, positioning yourself over her, you kept your gaze on her, your eyes holding a mixture of tenderness and longing. “According to this,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady, “I’m supposed to… enter you slowly. We can take it at your pace… but once we both reach our climax… I’m meant to stay inside, to hold that connection.”

Her heart pounded, but she nodded eagerly, the words barely leaving her lips as she whispered, “I want that… I want to feel it all.”

With a careful, gentle movement, you positioned your shaft and slowly entered her. The both of you stilled, caught in the shared intensity of the sensation. A rush of warmth spread between you, each of you feeling the other in a way that was beyond description.

Minjeong’s hands found your back, her fingers pressing into your skin as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through her. It felt as though her entire being had awakened, each nerve attuned to the rhythm you created together.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed your voice breaking the quiet.

“So, apparently,” you began, glancing down at the book with a look of intrigued curiosity, “if two people share an emotional connection, every touch, every sensation can deepen the experience. It says to explore, to learn each other’s bodies, to let it build naturally.”

Her breath hitched as your words settled in the space between you, her body already trembling beneath yours as you began to move again. The slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts made every nerve in her body feel alive, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She met your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in the unspoken trust you shared.

You leaned closer, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, letting your lips linger on her skin. She shivered at the warmth of your mouth, your movements in sync with the rhythm of your hips. Her breath hitched again as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her collarbone before descending to her chest. Her body trembled as you kissed her nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before your lips wrapped around it.

The sensation was overwhelming, an electric jolt that combined with the fullness of you inside her, making her arch instinctively beneath you. When you began to suck gently, a soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching at the sheets as the intensity of the moment consumed her. Each thrust seemed to amplify the pleasure, the combined sensations creating a crescendo of raw emotion and physical connection.

Her mind raced, her heart pounding as waves of pleasure built steadily within her, each one more powerful than the last. Every pull of your lips, every flick of your tongue, every deliberate movement of your body within hers heightened the connection between you, making her feel more vulnerable and alive than she ever thought possible.

She arched into you, her body moving instinctively in time with yours, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. “This,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “it’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.” Her words were punctuated by gasps and soft cries, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm you shared.

Each touch, each calculated movement between you was designed to bring you both closer to that edge, but neither of you rushed.

Minjeong felt lost, spinning in the sensations as you guided her towards a second climax, your every touch bringing her closer to that peak once more.

“I’m close again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling, her body tensing in anticipation. “I can feel it…”

“Me too,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as you moved with her, your breath hot against her skin. “Let’s do it together.”

Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, your pace quickening as the tension built between you, an energy so intense that Minjeong felt it vibrating through her very core. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps as her hands gripped your shoulders, feeling the second wave building within her, ready to crest.

The pressure was unbearable, the heat flooding through her body as you moved together, faster, harder, each movement pushing her closer to the edge.

“Now,” you whispered, your voice tight with urgency, as if holding back any longer was impossible. “Now, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s body surrendered completely, her second orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was all-consuming, rippling through her in waves that seemed to touch every nerve, every hidden corner of her being.

Her back arched sharply, her head tipping back as her mouth parted in a breathless, almost desperate gasp. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever known—raw, overwhelming, and deeply intimate.

Her legs wrapped tightly around you, instinctively pulling you closer, as if anchoring herself to you in the midst of her climax. The intensity of the moment only heightened as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around you, pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat.

Each contraction was powerful, drawing you deeper, her body gripping you with an unrelenting tightness that seemed to plead for more, to keep you there, locked in this moment of shared ecstasy.

She felt the warmth of your release flooding her, a sensation that sent an unexpected jolt through her body. It was an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, the heat spreading within her and amplifying her pleasure to a level she hadn’t thought possible. It was raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that it made her tremble in your arms, her body shuddering as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

For you, the feeling was equally overwhelming. Her inner walls milked you with a desperate, almost unrelenting rhythm, each squeeze sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. It felt as though her body was drawing out every drop, holding you tightly in a way that made it impossible to hold back. A deep, guttural moan tore from your lips as you gave in completely, the force of your release leaving you trembling.

Each pulse of your release was matched by her contractions, the two of you locked in a perfect, instinctual rhythm. Her warmth surrounded you, heightening the intensity of your climax, every squeeze of her body dragging out the pleasure, making it feel endless. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding communicated in every motion, every sound, every shared breath.

Minjeong’s cries blended with your own, the room filled with the raw, unfiltered sounds of pleasure. As your climax subsided, the echoes of her soft moans and trembling gasps remained, lingering in the air. You stayed buried within her, her legs still wrapped around you, her arms pulling you close as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Both of you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly consumed by the intensity of what you had just shared—a moment that transcended the physical, leaving an indelible mark on both of your hearts.

For a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you, entwined and breathless, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, rising and falling together as you clung to each other, feeling the lingering aftershocks of pleasure resonate between you.

Minjeong’s chest rose and fell in sync with yours as she held onto you, her heartbeat slowing as she grounded herself in the warmth and weight of your embrace. The sensation of being so close, so in tune, left her feeling utterly content, yet completely vulnerable.

Each time she felt you shift or tighten your hold, she felt the memory of each pulse, each lingering sensation, flooding her with a gentle warmth, a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as she lay there, absorbing the reality of what you had shared. She felt every lingering pulse within her, each subtle echo of your release, and the closeness left her feeling both exhilarated and deeply moved. She looked up at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips, still too overwhelmed to find words but hoping you could feel the depth of what this moment meant to her.

You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze filled with a tenderness that matched her own, and pulled her close, holding her as you both soaked in the quiet intimacy. The connection between you was more than either of you had expected—something that reached beyond the physical, beyond what words could express. And for now, the world outside could wait.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a wonder that mirrored her own. “That was… more than I ever imagined.”

Minjeong nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body buzzed with lingering aftershocks of pleasure, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d just experienced. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much, to connect so deeply with another person.

“The book didn’t even come close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions welled up within her. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.”

A gentle smile played on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at her with a gaze filled with understanding and affection. “Neither did I,” you replied softly. “I can’t believe we went our whole lives without that.”

You lay together in the quiet of the room, still tangled in each other’s embrace, your bodies warm and relaxed as you both reflected on what had just happened. The weight of your decision to remove the patches, the overwhelming intensity of your shared experiences, and the depth of the connection that had formed left both of you in awe. Minjeong realized then, with a clarity that made her heart ache, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not after this.

A warmth stirred within her, different from before—not just curiosity or experimentation, but something deeper, something that felt like an unstoppable need. Her body craved you, not just to explore, but as if she were drawn to you in a way she couldn’t fully explain. The thought of being close to you again, feeling your touch, sent shivers through her entire body.

You noticed her subtle movement, the way she shifted against you, and gently ran your fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice filled with care and understanding.

Minjeong looked up at you, her heart pounding as her eyes met yours. The connection felt stronger now, more intense, like a current running between you that couldn’t be ignored. “I… I need you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Your eyes darkened, a spark of need flashing as you took in her words. Your hand slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against yours. “Already?” you asked with a faint smile, though your voice betrayed the hunger that mirrored her own.

“I can’t help it,” Minjeong admitted, her cheeks flushing as her body pressed against you, feeling every inch of you against her. “I can’t stop thinking about it… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your expression softened as you held her close, sensing the depth of her need and responding with your own. The air thickened between you as you both gave in once more, realizing that the bond you had unlocked wasn’t something that could be silenced or ignored

She felt you stir beside her, your body responding immediately to the heat in her words. The hunger within her sharpened, an intense, primal need that was more than just physical. It was something deeper, something raw and instinctual that seemed to awaken with every heartbeat, urging her closer to you. Her body ached to feel you again, to pull you closer in every way, and the intensity of her need made her breath catch.

Your hands roamed over her body, your touch igniting a fire beneath her skin. The anticipation sent a thrill through her, her pulse racing as she took you in, the desire radiating off both of you like a palpable heat.

“I want to feel you again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her need. “I want you to… to keep going… to keep bre—”

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, searching for the right words as her eyes met yours. But you seemed to understand without her needing to say it. Your hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as your gaze locked with hers, filled with both passion and tenderness.

“To keep breeding you?” you murmured, your voice thick with both lust and affection.

Her body reacted instantly, a hot wave of sensation spreading through her at your words. The idea of it—of you filling her again and again, the intimacy of it, the unbreakable connection it represented—was overwhelming. She felt her breath hitch as she nodded, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering touch.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to breed me… again and again.”

A soft groan escaped your lips at her words, and you adjusted her position, your hands sliding beneath her thighs as you pushed her legs up, resting them on your shoulders. The shift folded her body slightly under your weight, her knees pressed close to her chest as you leaned into her, your body flush against hers. The angle sent a shiver through her as the anticipation built, her heart racing as she felt your hands gripping her hips firmly.

Slowly, you pressed into her, her body stretching to accommodate you, the familiar pressure igniting every nerve in her body. Minjeong gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as the sensation overwhelmed her. The new angle made everything feel more intense—every inch of you seemed to reach deeper, filling her completely in a way that made her toes curl.

Her hands gripped your arms as her hips instinctively rolled forward, meeting your movements as you began to thrust into her, slow and deliberate at first. Each motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, her back arching as you leaned further into her, your weight pressing her firmly into the bed.

The pleasure was electrifying, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge, her body trembling beneath you. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as your pace quickened. Her body folded under your weight as you leaned forward, driving her deeper into the bed.

Your hands slid up her sides, trembling with urgency, before cupping her face gently, your thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. The contrast of your tender touch against the intensity of your movements made her gasp, her soft, breathy moans growing louder as you pressed her further into the mattress.

“Minjeong,” you groaned, your voice thick with need, your gaze locking onto hers. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips only spurred you on, the sight of her beneath you, completely vulnerable and lost in the moment, driving you closer to the brink.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers clung to your shoulders, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I’m completely yours.”

Her words ignited something primal in you, and your movements grew faster, deeper, the new angle amplifying the sensation for both of you. Her body tightened around you, her inner walls gripping you with each thrust, milking you for everything you had. The pressure building within her was almost unbearable, her core aching for release as her muscles clenched and fluttered around you.

Overcome by the intimacy of the moment, you leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her soft, eager response heightened everything, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the rhythm of your bodies. The warmth of her mouth, the way she gasped into the kiss, made every nerve in your body feel electrified.

As your lips pressed harder against hers, you felt her trembling beneath you, her inner walls clenching tightly around your member in rhythm with every thrust. Each squeeze sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity of her responses drawing you deeper into the shared ecstasy. Her whimpers were muffled by your kiss, and her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, a perfect counterpoint to the raw, primal connection of your movements. Her cries became softer, breathier, blending with your groans as the sensations built to an almost unbearable level.

The intimacy of the kiss, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around you, brought you both closer to the brink, your bodies and hearts completely in sync as you moved together toward the edge.

“Minjeong… I’m close…” you murmured, your voice strained, your body trembling as you fought to hold back for just a moment longer, wanting to bring her over the edge with you.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her hands pressed against your chest, her body trembling beneath yours.

As you tried to hold on, your body trembling with the effort of resisting your release, your position unintentionally shifted. Your hips angled slightly as you pressed into her, and suddenly, your length grazed something deep within her that made her entire body jolt violently.

A sharp, high-pitched cry tore from her lips, her eyes flying open in shock and overwhelming pleasure as her nails dug into your arms. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and desperation, her voice trembling as she gasped, “Oh my God—right there!” Her thighs trembled against your shoulders, her whole body arching into you. “Do that again—please, keep doing that!”

Her reaction sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and despite the accidental nature of the movement, you adjusted to repeat it, angling yourself to hit that spot again. Her cries grew louder, her body tightening around you as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her, the intensity of the sensation completely melted her.

Minjeong's cries grew louder, her body arching beneath you as her legs trembled on your shoulders. The intensity of her pleasure was palpable, each thrust drawing a mix of desperate gasps and cries from her as her walls tightened around you even more, gripping you with a rhythm that was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, with a powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with a force so intense it felt as though the entire world had disappeared. The weight of your body pressing her into the mattress, the relentless rhythm of your deep thrusts, the angle perfectly abusing her most sensitive spot—all of it combined into a crescendo of pleasure that overwhelmed her completely.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong’s mind went utterly blank. The sensations overtook everything else—waves of ecstasy rippling through her as her body convulsed uncontrollably beneath you. Her walls clenched and pulsed around you, milking you desperately, her muscles tightening in a rhythm that seemed to beg for more, even as the overwhelming intensity left her trembling. The warmth of your release filling her, mixing with the previous flood, heightened everything, the feeling of fullness amplifying every pulse, every flutter of her core.

Her body shook violently, her hands clutching at you for grounding as tears welled up in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her lips, her voice trembling as she gasped for air, completely overcome. Her hair was a wild mess, clinging to her damp, flushed face, and her cheeks were streaked with tears she didn’t even realize she was shedding.

Each thrust, each contraction, sent her spiraling further into a blissful haze until her body could only quiver under you, her mind and body utterly consumed by the raw, primal connection.

Finally, her cries softened into breathless whimpers as her climax began to wane, leaving her trembling and spent. You slowed your movements, carefully easing her legs down from your shoulders, and leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her trembling body. She clung to you instinctively, her face buried against your chest as she shuddered uncontrollably, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her release.

“It’s okay,” you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as you held her close. Your hands stroked her back in soothing motions, trying to ground her as she came down from the overwhelming high. Her breaths were uneven, and you could feel her trembling against you, her body still wracked with small, involuntary shakes.

Minjeong’s fingers gripped your shoulders tightly as if anchoring herself, her voice trembling as she whispered, “That was… that was so much… I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.”

You hugged her closer, cradling her against your chest as she melted into your embrace, her trembling gradually easing under your touch. The room was quiet except for the sound of your shared breaths, the intensity of the moment lingering between you. As you held her, her quivers became softer, her body finding solace in your warmth, the bond between you deepened by the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the moment.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still humming from the intensity of what you had just experienced. Her heart raced in time with yours, her mind spinning as she held onto you, feeling as though nothing else existed but the two of you.

As the aftershocks of their shared pleasure began to fade, Minjeong lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours. The connection between you was undeniable now—deeper and more intense than anything she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just about the physical closeness anymore; it was the way you looked at each other, the way your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the way her heart seemed to beat in time with yours. She could feel that you were a part of her now, in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and fiercely protective.

You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “That… was even better than the first time.”

Minjeong nodded, her body still buzzing in the blissful afterglow. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way,” she murmured, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

“It’s like we’re rediscovering it all over again,” you replied, your voice filled with wonder. “Every time.”

Her heart swelled, a warmth blooming within her that went beyond the physical. She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sincerity of her emotions bringing a slight tremor to her voice. “I think I’m falling for you,” she whispered, her words laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t shown before.

Your gaze softened, and your hand cupped her face, pulling her closer. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” you whispered back, your lips brushing over hers in a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.

You lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The quiet moments that followed were thick with understanding, an unspoken connection that now simmered between you both.

Each touch, each kiss felt like a rediscovery of something sacred, something you had both been yearning for without knowing. Minjeong could feel the bond between you growing deeper, a realization that filled her with a comforting sense of security, yet also stirred something unsettling within her.

After a long silence, with her head still resting against your chest and her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, reality began to creep back into her thoughts. She thought about the future—the knowledge you had uncovered together, and what you would do next. What you had discovered was too profound, too life-changing to keep hidden. She lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a determined look.

“We need to tell people,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. Others deserve to feel what we’ve felt.”

You listened, though a shadow crossed your face, your hand stilling as you gently traced her back. “I know… but who do we tell? And how? Most people… they won’t understand. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”

Sitting up slightly, Her mind drifted to the three other girls she held closest to her heart “Maybe… we start with people close to us. People we trust. Maybe I could tell my friends.”

Your expression remained serious as you considered the idea. “Your friends? The ones who thought the book was just some weird obsession?”

A hint of uncertainty entered her voice, but she pushed on. “Yes. I mean, they laughed it off, but they’re like family to me. They’ve been my closest friends for years. I love them… and maybe, if I explain it to them, they’ll understand. And who knows? Maybe they’ll want to experience it too.”

At first, the idea of sharing this discovery with her friends was thrilling to Minjeong. Karina, Giselle, and Ningning were her closest friends; they had been by her side through everything. If they could experience the depth of what she’d felt with you, maybe it could change their lives, too. But the more she thought about it, the more her excitement twisted into something else.

The thought of them with you—of any of them touching you, experiencing your closeness, seeing the look in your eyes that had been meant for her—left a sour, unsettled feeling in her chest. She imagined your hands on them, imagined you laughing with them, and it made her stomach clench with a sharp pang of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.

Her heart pounded, and she felt a fierce possessiveness rising within her. This was different; what you shared was hers. The mere image of anyone else sharing in the same closeness made her skin prickle. She shifted, tightening her hold on you almost instinctively, her fingers curling against your chest as she tried to suppress the surge of emotions.

“Actually… maybe not,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she gazed up at you.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the sudden shift in her tone. “What happened to wanting to tell everyone? Didn’t you say you wanted to help people feel what we’ve felt?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I do,” she stammered, glancing away. “I just… I don’t think they’d get it—not yet. And maybe not them.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her possessiveness, your eyes glinting with teasing curiosity. “Oh, so now you don’t want to tell them?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “Weren’t they your ‘closest friends’ a second ago?”

Her face grew warmer, and she huffed, shifting uncomfortably as she avoided your gaze. “It’s just… they didn’t understand the book at all,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “And besides, I… I don’t want—”

You tilted your head, still smiling as your fingers traced gentle patterns along her back. “You don’t want what?” you asked, your tone soft but teasing. “You don’t want them to know about me?”

A small, frustrated sound escaped her as she buried her face against your chest, mumbling, “I don’t want them to… try anything.”

You chuckled, finding her protectiveness endearing. “So you don’t want anyone else getting too close?” you teased gently, your fingers brushing through her hair.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, her cheeks hot as she sulked against you. She sighed, glancing up at you, her voice laced with worry. “What if they’re curious? What if they want to know what it’s like with you?”

The laughter rumbled softly in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. “Minjeong, you’re overthinking this,” you murmured, stroking her hair. “They don’t need to experience it with me specifically.”

But her mind couldn’t let go. She imagined them asking you questions, seeking the same closeness that had been so deeply personal to her. Her pout deepened as she looked up, her voice quiet but insistent. “But… what if they wanted to try it? What if they wanted you?”

Seeing the worry in her eyes, your expression softened. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you held her gaze. “They’re not you,” you said simply, your voice steady and sincere. “What we have… it’s special. No one else can have that.”

Minjeong felt her heart flutter at your words, but a part of her still sulked, her brow furrowing as she clung to you a little tighter. “I just don’t want to share you,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not with anyone.”

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and your voice was warm as you spoke. “You don’t have to. I only want you, Minjeong. You’re the only one I want.”

She let out a soft sigh, nestling closer against you, her tension easing slightly. “But what if they do get curious?” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice filled with a hint of lingering protectiveness. “I know how they are… they always want to try things they don’t understand.”

You chuckled again, finding her jealousy both adorable and sincere. “Minjeong, I promise no one’s going to get between us. If they want to know what we’ve found, we’ll explain it together. But you’re the only one I want to share it with like this.”

She looked up at you, a pout still lingering on her lips, though her eyes softened. “You’re sure?” she asked, her tone almost childlike, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Because I don’t want you to change your mind later… I don’t think I could handle it.”

You gently cupped her face, looking at her with steady, genuine warmth. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you met her gaze. “Minjeong, I don’t want anyone else. What we have is ours. No one else can even come close.”

A small smile began to spread across her face, and she felt her possessiveness slowly fading, replaced by a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “Okay,” she murmured, though a hint of playfulness glinted in her eyes. “But just so you know, if they do try anything, I’m not sharing.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Good to know. But trust me, they’re not going to get the chance.” You pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her, reassuring her with the warmth of your touch. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how protective you are.”

She grumbled, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, you better get used to it,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into your embrace. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get anywhere near you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” you murmured. “I’d be happy with just you by my side.”

Finally feeling at ease, Minjeong let herself melt against you, feeling a bit silly for her jealousy but incredibly reassured by your words. The tension and uncertainty that had simmered beneath her feelings now softened, melting away as she realized the depth of what you had both discovered. It was something so much bigger than either of you alone—something that the world had long forgotten.

The patch was supposed to protect humanity from its own vulnerabilities, to mute the wild unpredictability of desire, of connection. It had promised a life of control and purpose, of efficiency and calm. But in shutting out the power of feeling, it had left behind a vast emptiness, a numbness that had become so normalized that no one had even realized what they were missing.

But now, she understood the beauty of that vulnerability, the fire of human connection that couldn’t be controlled or contained. Every touch, every shared breath, every heartbeat reminded her that being human wasn’t something to manage or tame. It was messy and consuming, unpredictable and deeply, deeply real. It was finding peace in another’s arms, feeling the thrill of closeness, and, yes, even feeling possessive and protective of the person she wanted most.

Minjeong looked up at you, her gaze warm but serious. “I don’t think I could ever go back to the way things were. Not now that I know what it’s like… to feel everything so deeply. To be connected to you like this.” Her voice was soft but steady, filled with a quiet determination. “It’s like I’m finally… alive.”

You held her closer, your expression filled with a tenderness that needed no words. “I feel the same,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go back either. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can be the ones who bring back what everyone’s lost. Show people what it really means to be human.”

In the quiet warmth of the room, as you both held each other, Minjeong felt the weight of that purpose settle into her heart. What had begun as a curiosity, a glimpse into forgotten history, had turned into something so profound, something that connected her to the core of her own humanity. It wasn’t just love she felt—it was a fierce commitment to the truth you had uncovered together.

“We’ll start slowly,” she murmured, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “One step at a time. Maybe people will be afraid, maybe they won’t understand… but we’ll show them. We’ll show them what we’ve found.”

You nodded, and your hand found hers, fingers intertwining as a silent promise. “Together,” you said, your voice steady.

As the night deepened, the two of you lay there, wrapped in the knowledge that the connection you shared was precious, rare, and undeniably real. It was the beginning of something new, something powerful. And as Minjeong drifted off in your arms, she knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it side by side, carrying the flame of a rediscovered humanity—one that pulsed with raw, unfiltered feeling and a love that no patch could ever silence.

You had both rediscovered what it meant to be human, and together, you would awaken a world that had forgotten.

[luvlystarr]

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.   

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

[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!

[ahqkas]

Could you do the bamboos doing the tiktok trend a boy who jacket and kind please

♯JACKED AND KIND ( the batboys doing the ‘jacked and kind’ tiktok trend with you ! )

— gn!reader, dick & jason & tim ( separated ), cursing, not edited

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

this man would literally be so hyped about doing the trend with you!!

your boyfriend stood behind you as you positioned your phone just right, angling it to catch the best angles. he doing some simple stretches, probably the same ones he did whenever he got ready for one of his patrols. you watched in the reflection your phone provided how his navy blue shirt fit his torso, wrapping and stretching around the muscles without any real effort to show off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. you could also point out the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. he knew exactly how good he looked.

“okay,” you took a step backwards toward him once you were satisfied with the preparation. “don’t let me down.”

a chuckle left his throat at your words while he met you halfway in the steps, taking a few steps forward so he could be standing behind you in order to record the trend. “baby, letting you down isn’t part of my vocabulary. lifting you up, on the other hand . . .” he trailed off with a wink and you managed to lightly slap his bicep before the countdown went off and the video started recording.

the song started playing from the phone — “slim pickins” by sabrina carpenter — and you tensed into position, facing the camera. you felt the warmth of his large hands on your hips before he touched you ( his touch was steady, as if he had done this a million times before ).

with an almost effortless motion, dick lifted you up in the air for a second before you made contact with his shoulder. you squealed in surprise from how quickly the whole thing happened and tried to balance yourself on top of him. he adjusted his grip on your knees while flexing his biceps for the camera, showing off the pure muscle with a large grin etched on his pretty face.

he looked confident, like he was the first man to ever grace the earth, even swaying a bit on his feet. show-off. the song continued playing, and just as the lyrics — “a boy who’s jacked and kind” — faded, dick followed it by lowering your body down in a quick move, catching you in a bridal style before you could even process what was happening.

“dick!” you couldn’t help but gasp this time. you haven’t seen this feature in the trending videos yet, and you were pretty sure you two would end up viral with just this move alone. you could picture the comments already.

“get a room”

“i miss my future bf”

“ON MY PHONE? ON MY WIFI? ON MY ACCOUNT??”

he really was jacked and kind.

. . . JASON TODD !

jason would kill this trend without even trying.

you had been begging him for the last hour about doing one of those new trending tiktok videos. the ones where couples did something ridiculously romantic which caused the whole comment section to show what’s it like to be born a hater (“so cute!! BLOCKED” “reacted "👍🏻" to your message” “i’m sleeping on a highway tonight guys” ). jason had been through countless trends already, but you were extra set on doing this trend with him.

“jason, come on! it’ll be fun, i promise.”

he dropped the book he was reading on the coffee table with a dramatic sigh, turning to look you in the eye. “i swear, every time i turn around, there’s another damn trend going viral.”

but there was no real annoyance in the tone of his voice. he could act all rough and nonchalant, but deep down, he adored you with all his heart and soul. he’d never admit it aloud, but you got him feeling things he didn’t quite know how to process.

you looked over at him with those pleasing eyes he could never resist. “please, jay?”

letting out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard, your boyfriend stood up from the couch and walked over to where you were standing in front of your phone. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath lowly with those beefy arms crossed at his chest.

“i promise this will be the last one.”

“uh-huh.” jason didn’t want it to be the last one.

you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him while you set your phone up. “you know how this works, right? just pick me up and place me on your shoulder.”

you didn’t have a single doubt about him not being able to pick you up. jason was a big guy, he could manhandle you all you he wanted without breaking a sweat, you knew that. he was going to pick you up.

“alright, sweetheart. get over here.”

the song started playing as soon as the timer was up and you felt his hands sliding up your thighs as he bend over a bit before he wrapped his forearms around the meat of your legs. he picked you up effortlessly like you weighed nothing, not a single sound of protest leaving his lips from the motion. your laugh filled the room when you made contact with his broad shoulder and you wrapped your arm around his neck, leaning slightly closer to him for the video to capture.

jason didn’t flex his arms, didn’t need to show his strength off. he simply wrapped his hands around your thighs, fingers kneading the soft muscles as he helped you balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall and make a blooper instead.

“see? no big deal.”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

tim was never one to enjoy attention, especially not the one that came with being on camera.

but when you, with your sweet smile and convincing voice, had asked him to do yet another one of your tiktok trends, he couldn’t really say no.

“tim, please? you’ll love it, i promise,” you pleaded with him, already setting up your phone with the timer set straight on because you knew he wouldn’t resist you. he never did.

and he didn’t this time, either. “what’s this trend about again?”

you practically bounced over to where he was standing with pure excitement written all over your face. “it’s a lifting one. i just need you to pick me up exactly when the songs say ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’. simple, right?”

“i really don’t think–“

“oh, come on! you’re strong, and you’re always complaining i never let you have fun. this is fun, tim.”

at that, he let out a long sigh while his hand rubbed the back of his neck. he was thinking, deep in thoughts. but you were really really really hard to resist when you got like this — all pleading and loving with him. you had this look in your eye, he had realized, one that said you would never stop bugging him until you got your way. and he realized he was down bad for that look.

“fine. but if i drop you, don’t blame me.”

tim stepped into position behind you, his eyes narrowing as he mentally braced for the lift before the video could ever start. he wasn’t sure how exactly this was supposed to go, but it didn’t look that complicated, right? it was just about picking you up and holding you there for a few seconds. simple. yet, he couldn’t help but overthink the whole thing.

his stance was little awkward, with his hands hovering near your waist as if he wasn’t entirely sure of his footing, trying to maintain that balance between not looking too stiff and not being too casual either.

for a split second, everything was going perfectly. your boyfriend had you in his arms, effortlessly supporting you on his shoulder while your laughter erupted from your throat. you knew tim would be perfect for this trend. but that’s when things went sideways.

his feet shuffled under him and he lost his footing on the carpet beneath him. his balance wavered which caused yours to do just as same, and before he could adjust and save the situation, your body slipped a little too far to one side. tim’s eyes widened, and he made a split-second decision to shift his hands, trying to catch you before you fell completely.

everything happened so fast.

you were halfway to the floor when his arm shot out, catching you by the waist just in time. for a second, it looked like he might’ve actually saved the moment — then his grip faltered, and you were both tumbling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs.

“ah!”

the two of you collapsed together, but your boyfriend managed to twist in the last moment, taking most of the fall with his own body before you could hit the floor completely. he groaned softly under you with his chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on top of him, your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and laughter.

“you almost dropped me.”

“i did drop you,” he replied dryly, but his voice held no real frustration — just the tiniest hint of amusement as he looked up at you.

it might’ve not been a video that would kill the whole trend, but it was a video that would never fail to make you smile. and that was enough for you.

[charlesoberonn]

When you were young, your mother used to read you an old fairytale every night before bed.

It was a sad story, about lovers who walked through hell to reunite with one another and almost succeeded, only to be separated again forever in the last moment. It made you cry, and the next night you would beg your mom to read it again.

"You know it'll be sad, right?"

"This time they'll win, mom! This time they'll have a happy ending!"

But they didn't. Nor did they win in the next night, or the night after that.

Deep down, logically, you knew it'll always end the same way. The story is done. It's been told long before you were born. But when mom was telling it, you could pretend that maybe this time it'll work out. This time will be different.

When you grew older you didn't stop pretending, even though you knew it was silly and getting sillier. When you learned to read and write, one of the first things you wrote was a new ending. It was bad, about you as an all-powerful angel coming down to help the lovers reunite and then you get invited to their wedding.

"It's not real, it's fanfic." a friend told you when you showed them. They explained the word, and you saw what they meant. But you didn't care, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend.

You read voraciously as you grew. All kinds of stories with all kinds of ending. But you kept coming back to that one. Reading from your mom's old copy which her read to her from.

You didn't need mom to read to you anymore, but sometimes you asked her to anyway. Occasionally she'd do it, but more often than not she was tired.

Soon she stopped reading. Then she stopped speaking altogether, her voice too weak and throat too sick to speak aloud. That's when you started reading the story to her.

It was hard at first, your tears choking you up. It was hard pretending that the story will end differently.

"The diagnoses are just estimates, probabilities." your dad said. And when he spoke, you could pretend there was a chance. But when the doctors spoke, their words felt as final and unchanging as the old words in the storybook.

Eventually, mom was no more. Your dad read something personal and touching in her funeral. Everyone thought you would, too. Everyone knew how much you loved writing since you were little.

You thought you would write too, imagined it in your mind as your mother's end drew near. You had so much to say, but the words wouldn't come out. The only words that would come to you were from the story. You tried to bat them away, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't change this ending.

When it came your time to eulogize, you pulled out the book and without preamble started reading from the second-to-last page. This time there was no pretending.

Everyone knew the story, even the people who didn't know mom personally. Everyone knew it will end in tragedy. The lovers will not get a happy ending.

Except this time they did.

You didn't notice the change until you were halfway through the final page, so out of it you were. But the reactions from the mourning crowd clued you in. Your stoic dad choking down a chuckle.

You looked closely at the book and saw the words were written in your mom's neat handwriting.

You kept on reading, a smile on your face.

It wasn't the real ending. It was fanfic.

But just for a little while, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend a little longer.

[neocitylights]

SUMMARY: As you move into the building, your mysterious neighbor’s music becomes a quiet—and secret—comfort to your heart, enough for you to send them an anonymous letter. When you unexpectedly meet Mark, your connection soon growing between late-night conversations and shared meals, you find yourself falling in ways you hadn’t expected. Curiously enough, as your worlds start to overlap, you realize that there’s more to Mark and your mysterious neighbor than you’ve ever imagined. GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, songwriter!Mark WORD COUNT: 9.1k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes

Moonlight welcomes you home as you finish yet another long day of seemingly endless lectures, the gleam slipping through the curtains of your living room as you slip off your shoes, dropping the heavy book bag by the door. 

The apartment is quiet, as you’re coming home a little later than usual, and with a chaotic day behind you, all you need is a hot shower, a warm meal and the softness of your bed.

As you’re stripping your top off, halfway through the bathroom, you hear it—the soft, slow notes from a piano drifting through the walls of your neighbor’s apartment and into yours. The mysterious, upstairs neighbor, as you like to call them now. 

It’s not the first time that the music makes its way into your place. Even though you’re yet to meet whoever resides right above you, with an impressive array of instruments at that, you’re always delighted to hear them play, especially during days like today where you’re exhausted both mentally and physically.

Today, you can recognize the melody, but can’t quite put your finger on which song it is. 

Making a beeline for your bedroom instead, you sink into your bed, half-dressed as you let the sound take over your mind. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your brain subconsciously filling the gaps as you start to hum the melody along. 

Your mysterious neighbor and their music had slowly become a source of unexpected comfort to you. 

Some days, you hear the delicate strumming of a guitar. Other days, the lightness of wandering piano notes. On special days though, you listen to the bold, intense riffs of an electric guitar instead. Every day, you welcome it, each time feeling a lullaby meant only for one night.

With the music still playing in the background, you follow through your routine in an almost dreamlike state. The mysterious neighbor plays long enough to last through your shower, unknowingly kind enough to give you the joy of having dinner with your own private live performance too. 

As it stops, the silence almost feels awkward. 

You can’t help but innocently imagine your neighbor, just a few steps away as they tuck in the instrument for the night, completely unaware of their unknown faithful audience. 

The day is already drawing out to be a chaotic one.

As you dash out of your apartment in a rush, just barely hanging onto your bag and the coffee thermos in your hands, you mentally kick yourself for ignoring the alarm an extra time, fooling yourself that it was safe enough just for today.

You’re already unusually late, and to make matters worse, you’d dropped half of your notes as you were fumbling to lock your apartment and the elevator’s seemingly taking a lifetime to arrive at your floor. 

A sigh escapes from your lips at the familiar chime of its opening doors.

You can’t help the clumsy commotion as you finally step into the cubicle, head down as you try to organize the mess of crumpled papers inside your bag, completely oblivious to the current company watching you with curious eyes. 

It’s only when you literally bump into them that you finally look up, eyes wide in surprise. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you start, stepping back with an apologetic glance. “I swear I didn’t see you here.”

The guy offers you a quick, friendly smile, shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets as he backs away, giving you more space. 

With a hint of a chuckle laced to his voice, he shakes his head. “No worries.”

Attentively, you glance at him with a discrete side-eye—quickly recognizing him as a fellow neighbor from a few late night lobby encounters, usually when you’re coming back from school after TA days. He looks a little different today, hair shorter and a few shades darker, though the laidback, somewhat shy vibe around him stays the same.

Since you’re still rather new to the building and haven’t met a lot of people your age yet, you can’t beat your curiosity whenever he’s around. It doesn’t help that he’s also undeniably cute, with a quiet sort of charm that only adds to his character.

As the elevator’s doors finally close, you clumsily attempt to adjust your bag again, just for your thermos to clatter against the floor as you fumble around the attached keyrings. 

It rolls around for a second before your neighbor swiftly reaches down to grab it, soon handing it over to you with a small smile. “I’m guessing this is an essential for busy mornings, right?”

You laugh, feeling a little flustered as your cheeks warm up. “You’ve got no idea. Sorry again, I swear I’m more composed than this.”

“I know,” he says, offering a nod as his smile grows bashfully. “I’ve never seen you around this hour, so I’m assuming you’re probably late.”

You pause, caught off guard by his words. 

Given that you’ve only exchanged brief glances and polite smiles here and there whenever you met, it’s a surprise to know he’s observant enough to have noticed your routine at all. It makes you wonder if he’s noticed other things too, as you have with him.

“Very late,” you finally respond, offering a rather chagrined smile. “Not a very smart decision to ignore your alarms for a few more minutes of sleep, I guess.”

Visibly very entertained with your chaos, your neighbor shrugs as a chuckle escapes from his lips. “We’ve all been there, don’t stress too much about it.”

The elevator stops before you can reply, both of you stepping out into the lobby once the doors open. There’s a brief pause between you before he clears his throat, looking somehow both hesitant and effortlessly poised as he opens the building’s door for you to walk through first. 

“Hey, good luck today,” he says, shooting you a sheepish wink as he nods. “It’s gonna be a better day from now on, trust me.”

Taken aback by the rather endearing attitude, you laugh, nodding back at him in delight. “I trust you.”

As you start the walk toward the station, you find yourself briefly glancing back over your shoulder, just in time to catch him watching you for a second before he turns around and heads off. 

With the aroma of your burning candles spreading through the living room, your Friday evening falls to a quiet, hardly earned, peaceful break from work and school. 

After a week of quizzes, readings, papers and presentations, it’s the first time in a while that you don’t have to think about the next assignment on your to-do list or papers waiting to be graded. 

Under the dim lights of your apartment, you’re comfortably curled up on the couch with a cozy blanket, savoring the brief weekend pause. 

Almost as if they knew exactly what you needed to add to your little atmosphere, sensing just the perfect time, you hear the faint harmony of the mysterious neighbor’s piano keys through the walls. Tonight, the notes are slower, gentle, almost as warm as the candles’ flames. 

Completely taken by the music once again, you only break out of your reverie as you spot your journal on the dining table. Suddenly inspired, you decide that it’s only fair that your neighbor knows how much you appreciated their music—even if you have no idea who they actually are, apart from the fact that they’re right over you. 

Without a second thought, with a pen and paper in hands, you let your heart write. 

Dear neighbor,

Even though I’m not sure who you are or if we’ve met, I wanted to thank you through this letter. I’ve heard you play for a while now, and I can’t tell you how much comfort and happiness your music brings me. It truly brightens my day, takes a weight off my shoulders at night, pulls me away from my hectic days and gives me a moment to just breathe and appreciate the beautiful things in life.

I don’t know if you’re playing for anyone, or if it’s just for yourself, but I hope you know that I’m always amazed by it and how much it matters. You make the building feel a little warmer, my apartment feel a little more like home. Please, keep playing to your heart’s desires. 

Gratefully,

Your neighbor

It’s already past midnight as Mark settles at the quiet studio, only a handful of people left in the building after a long day of brainstorming meetings for the next label releases. 

Staring at the blank pages of his beat-up notebook, Mark starts to feel the fatigue catch up to his body, brain most definitely clocked out for the day as he can’t seem to think of anything but the annoying ache on his neck. 

As he taps his pen against the crumpled paper, a small, folded letter rests neatly tucked between its worn pages—one that he might or might not have read at least a dozen times since finding it under his door a few weeks ago. Needlessly to say, Mark was nothing but surprised by the letter, moved by the thoughtful, kind words written by his neighbor.

Every time he reads it, a rather satisfying warmth takes over his chest, as if the person who’d written it knew something deeply personal about him without even knowing who he was, or even his name.

Too absorbed in his thoughts, Mark startles as Haechan and Johnny burst into the studio, both laughing until the youngest notes his friend’s guarded face. 

“You look suspicious,” Haechan starts, eyes playfully scanning the studio in distrust. “I hope you aren’t doing anything nasty around here. We use this studio too, you know.”

Mark rolls his eyes, closing the notebook with a sigh. “You really need to learn how to shut up sometimes, Haechan.”

Quietly taking in the scene, Johnny leans over Mark, curiously eyeing the piece of paper sticking out of his notebook, distinctly decorated with a red star sticker at the top. “What’s that?”

The two youngest follow Johnny’s finger, pointing at the notebook on Mark’s lap.

As Mark’s stomach drops, he quickly attempts to tuck the letter back inside, distracting his friends from catching a glimpse of it. “It’s nothing, just something I was scribbling on.”

“No way,” Haechan starts, turning to Johnny with the widest grin on his face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Is that a love letter?”

“No,” Mark awkwardly cuts off, feeling his cheeks heat up under his best-friends’ scrutiny. “Who even sends love letters nowadays?”

Johnny scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You would.”

“He fucking would,” Haechan repeats, eyes wide as if he’s having an epiphany. “Holy shit, you’re so corny, Mark.”

“I mean, Mark wasn’t the one making up excuses to stalk his mom’s employee every day, you know,” Johnny taunts, laughing when Haechan mocks an offended glance at his older friend. 

Not able to resist their curiosity, knowing that he was eventually going to bend anyway, Mark sighs. “It’s a letter from my neighbor. Sometimes I play some music at home, whenever I’m stuck with something from here,” he explains quietly. “I guess they’ve been listening to it? I don’t know who they are but they left a letter to me a few days ago.”

Johnny and Haechan exchange a look, the latter letting out an incredulous laugh. “Your life is ridiculous. You got a love letter from your neighbor?”

“It’s not a love letter,” Mark argues, rolling his eyes. “It’s more of an… appreciation letter.”

Johnny nods, a knowing look taking over his face. “Can we read it? It’s fine if you don’t want us to, though.”

“It’s not fine.” Haechan frowns, a dramatic note to his voice. “What do you mean Mark got a love letter from his neighbor and we can’t read it?”

Mark does hesitate for a moment but ultimately hands the letter over to Johnny, watching his friend open the paper with careful fingers. 

It’s funny to hear someone else read it. There’s a mix of embarrassment and a strange sense of satisfaction in his chest as Mark listens to Johnny’s voice say the words he’s read so many times by now, enough to have memorized it. 

The letter sounds different—now that’s disconnected from him and no longer kept a secret, it definitely feels more real, more genuine. 

“You make the building feel a little warmer, my apartment feel a little more like home,” Johnny finally reads, noticeably taken aback by it. “Please, keep playing to your heart’s desires.”

Haechan breaks the silence as Johnny finishes, looking as impressed as his older friend. “Damn. That was…” 

“Actually really nice,” Johnny completes, a little more serious than Mark expects. “Do you have any idea who they are?”

Mark shakes his head, taking the letter back from Johnny’s hand and tucking it back inside his notebook. “No idea. I’m not sure if I want to know either.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. “Are you really fine with never finding out who they are?”

For now, there’s something about the mystery that keeps it just for him. For now, Mark thinks that knowing might change the feeling, make it somehow less special. Besides, if the future wants him to know, then he’ll probably know.

As his fingers tap the notebook, almost as if sealing the secret inside of it, Mark nods. 

“Maybe it’s better that way.” 

A few hours into the evening, the small venue is already buzzing with energy, voices blending with the smooth, laidback background music of the cozy bar. 

Mark’s not a stranger to the place, having attended a few open mics before with Johnny as a sidequest from his actual job. Today is a special day though—given Jaehyun’s giving a surprise secret performance of his new EP, it’s only fair of Mark to show his friend some support, especially after having worked on some of his songs together.

Besides, as a genuine music lover he does enjoy the atmosphere, the rawness of live music never failing to lift his mood even when he’s tired and overworked. 

At the back of the bar, Mark waits for Johnny with a pint of beer in hand, his eyes trailing through the place as he watches a few artists cycling through with their instruments here and there. 

Out of all things that could possibly happen tonight, Mark most definitely isn’t expecting to spot you there of all places.

Just a few feet away, you step by the bar with your friends, chatting and laughing as you approach the counter to place an order. He holds his breath for a moment, waiting for you to notice him as you briefly glance around. Convincing himself to play it cool, Mark swiftly turns his attention back to the bartender.

Just as his hand closes around his drink, he feels a presence stepping up beside him, a hand tentatively touching his arm.

“Hey neighbor,” you greet him, eyes bright in recognition as a smile tugs on your lips. “Seems like we’re running into each other everywhere lately, huh?”

Mark smiles back, feeling both glad and a bit nervous that you ultimately decided to approach him. “Seems like it, yeah. Though I’m a little surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“Why?” You laugh, surprised. “I know it didn’t seem like it that day, but I am a normal person, you know.”

“Shit, no, I don’t mean it that way,” Mark objects right away, wide-eyed as he fumbles with the glass of beer in his hands. “It’s just that I’ve been here a lot so I kinda know the crowd, I guess?”

You hum, moving to lean over the counter right beside him with a frown between your eyebrows. “I don’t think we’ve ever introduced ourselves properly, have we?”

As you give him your name, reaching out a hand to him with an amused smile on your lips, he can’t help awkwardly taking the handshake. When the hold lingers for a second longer than expected, Mark realizes he’s holding your gaze for just as much.

Playing it off with a cough, he pulls back to clumsily gesture toward the stage. “So, do you know anyone… you know, performing tonight?”

“Not really. My friends found this place, I just thought it’d be cool to check it out,” you explain, curious eyes glancing around. “What about you? If you’ve been here before, I bet you know someone.”

“Yeah, my friend Jaehyun is actually doing a few songs tonight.” Mark rubs the back of his neck with a timid smile. “Just thought it would be cool to support him.”

“That’s nice of you,” you say, face softening with a small smile. “I’ll check out him too, then.”

He almost wishes you don’t. 

Though Jaehyun’s got this long distance on-and-off thing with a girl he met during one of his concerts, the man is not only mad talented but also has insane looks, a combo that Mark’s seen girls fall for countless times by now.

Either way, he just smiles back with an appreciative nod. “He’s crazy good, you’ll definitely love his music.”

A call from your friends cuts the conversation short and as you glance over your shoulder, they’re waving you over with a handful of drinks. 

You seem to hesitate a little, looking back at him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I probably should get back to my friends.”

Hoping he doesn’t look too disappointed, Mark shakes his head. “It’s all good, it was nice seeing you around anyway,” he starts, pausing for a second before casually reaching out for his phone. “I was thinking if I could get your number? It’s fine if you don’t—”

You gently take the phone off his hands, visibly holding back a smile as you start typing. As he catches a glimpse of the screen, Mark chuckles at the door emoji added next to your name. 

Before you disappear into the crowd with your friends, you give him one last glance over your shoulder, eyes locking onto his own as your smile widens. 

“I’ll see you, Mark.”

The following days, Mark spends way too much time debating himself whether to text you. As a well-kept secret in his mind, he’s also been obsessively replaying your interaction ever since that night, a little taken aback by his own sudden interest in you. 

It’s not like he hasn’t ever let his eyes wander whenever you coincidentally met around the building, but up until that night you were only that—just one of his neighbors, a pretty girl he happened to run into every once in a while. 

Now, curiosity is getting the best of him and Mark can’t help reading too much into the situation.

Home earlier than usual, he sits at the couch with his guitar on his lap, though now long forgotten in his reverie. As he stares at your name in the contact list, Mark reminds himself that you gave him your number after all.

So he hopes that means something, especially when finally hitting send on the message he’d backspaced one too many times. 

5:11PM Hey neighbor Just found this new place with crazy good food and music in the neighborhood Any chance you’re free tonight?

5:15PM Hi Mark! I’m so sorry I’d love to but I’m stuck at uni until late today Rain check?

Though the anticipation in his chest crumbles to disappointment, Mark plays it off. You hadn’t exactly said no, so he settles to make the interaction as casual as possible, just about to type a quick reassurance when another text pops up. 

5:17PM Actually If you’re free, I could use some company here I’ll buy you dinner if you save me from work for a few minutes

No more than an hour later, Mark’s walking through the campus with two brown paper bags in hand, hoping that a classic combo is a safe enough bet for you to like it. Nearing the library, he spots you waving at him by the building’s steps with a growing smile on your face. 

“Hey Mark,” you greet, walking over with curious eyes at the bags in his hands. “I thought dinner was on me?”

“It seemed like you needed a break,” Mark points, giving an awkward chuckle. “It’s not fancy or anything so don’t worry about it.”

The sun’s just about to set as you walk him to a nearby bench, in a spot secluded enough that there’s only a couple of students around, mostly rushing past without a single glance. 

Accepting the bag from his hands as you sit down, your eyes light up at the sight of the huge burger and fries. “Mark, I could kiss you right now,” you start, taking a single fry as you grin at him. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He chuckles, trying to mask the impact of your words despite the warmth spreading through his neck. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I hoped the basics were a safe choice.”

“This looks way better than I was planning,” you confess in between your bites. “You seriously saved me from going insane.”

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve asked what you study.” Mark frowns, trying to remember if he’s ever noticed something that could’ve hinted at it.

“I’m doing a masters in political science,” you answer, chuckling timidly as his face shifts to an impressed look. “I’m also doubling as a teaching assistant for undergrad, hence why I’m still here grading assignments and going crazy.”

“That’s amazing,” he replies, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “How do you like it? It sounds like hard work.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back on the bench with a groan, momentarily forgetting about the food. “It definitely seemed easier when I was applying but I do love it. I’m also really good at it, even if my thesis runs me to the ground sometimes.”

“I bet you are.” Mark nods, voice laced with a playful touch. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you seem like the type who’s got it all under control.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m glad you already forgot about the last time we met back home,” you say, glancing over at him with curious eyes. “What about you? What do you do, Mark?”

Suddenly feeling a flicker of self-consciousness in the back of his brain, Mark hesitates for a second. Even though his job sounds fancy to most ears, people usually recognizing him as a writer of sorts, it almost sounds comical when compared to what you do. Strangely enough, despite his genuine love for music, it’s not the first time Mark feels small over it. 

As he rubs the back of his neck, the answer sounds as ordinary as possible. “It’s kinda all over the place, actually. Mostly creative stuff, I guess.”

You raise an eyebrow, visibly intrigued by the vague response. “It sounds like you’re a secret agent but can’t actually tell me the truth. Am I right?”

Mark smiles sheepishly, relieved at your easy acceptance. “To be honest, I feel like I’d be terrible at that,” he says with a grimace. “I think I’m decent at my actual job, though.”

You hum softly, seemingly still interested despite his awkwardness. “Well, you can tell me all about it later.”

As you effortlessly move the conversation by mentioning the open mic, not leaving your love for Jaehyun’s songs out, the evening soon settles upon you. There’s a whole lot Mark knows about you now—from your favorite songs to your favorite students, the places you dream traveling to, even childhood stories.

When you finally walk back to the library, it’s late enough that the campus is completely quiet. As Mark stands a few steps down from you at the same stairs again, a strange sense of comfort warms his chest.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to wait for you?” he asks for a second time, watching you with a hint of concern. 

You sigh, shaking your head with an amused glance towards him. “I told you it’s fine. My friend’s already waiting for me at her place, anyway.”

Mark nods, reluctantly agreeing. “Text me so I know you’re safe?”

You smile softly, nodding back. “I promise.”

Moving closer, you lean over him from the few steps up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering for a second too short. Mark swears that his skin is on fire, the spot tingling even after you pull back. There’s a quiet pause before you turn around, giving him a final wave before disappearing into the building.

Pleasantly surprised with how comforting and fun the last-minute meeting with Mark was, the details of the night silently stuck with you for the next few days. 

Though it seemed like a simple gesture then, you’d completely turned your brain off from the stress of your routine for a few hours, instead staying immersed in your own growing intrigue about him. There was something undeniably sweet and endearing about your neighbor, leaving you craving for more time to know him better.

Admitting to yourself that maybe you do want to see Mark again, you also want to repay his gentle favor. 

When you text him an impromptu dinner invite at your place, secretly anticipating his answer with nervous eyes glued to the screen, you’re most definitely not expecting a knock at your door just a few minutes later.

Despite the casual stance, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, Mark looks slightly out of breath as he stands outside your place. “Uh—hey, neighbor.”

“Do you live next door?” you joke, stepping aside to let him into your apartment. “You surprised me. I was waiting for you to reply to my text first.”

“You caught me.” Mark shrugs, slipping his shoes off with a bashful smile. “Did I come too early? I can come back later if you want.” 

Leading him inside, you gesture towards your small table, already set with the ridiculous amount of pizza you accidentally ended up baking to stress relief. “You’re actually just in time. Think you can handle the consequences of my poor measuring skills?”

He bursts into a laugh, taking in the scene with wide eyes. “Wow, this is… it feels like an italian restaurant in here.” 

“I feel like you’re making fun of me but I’ll let it slide because you’re a first timer around here,” you tease, pushing him towards a seat at the table. “Sit down, I’ll help you.” 

Both settled in, as the food’s plated by you under Mark’s protests, the conversation naturally flows.

“So, I was thinking,” you start carefully, watching out for his reaction. “You said you’re into creative stuff, right? Does that include writing?”

Mark looks slightly surprised for a second, then opens a smile. “Kind of. I have this habit of writing down random thoughts, stuff that I see outside whenever I go out, you know?”

“Like journaling?” you ask, pausing between a few bites with your interest piqued. 

“You could call it that.” He nods, thoughtfully running a hand through his hair. “Most of the time it turns to a few loose bits of stories. Like, scenes that play in my head.” 

“I think I’ve figured out your job,” you say, giving him a playful side-eye at the visible tension on his face. “I’m pretty sure that you’re some best-seller ghost writer. Maybe a pen name writer or something.” 

“I guess I can’t tell you then,” he teases, a contrast to his shy smile. “What about you? Aren’t you writing a thesis? That’s some serious writing if you ask me.” 

Despite the excitement, you can’t help an exhausted groan at the thought of your own writing. “It seems easier than looks that’s for sure,” you reply with a nod. “Like I said, I love it and I’m actually nailing it… but I do have a breakdown over it every two weeks or something.” 

Taking your answer as a cue, Mark unexpectedly tosses a few questions here and there, leaving you a little stunned at how effortlessly he seemed to ponder over your study. With him attentively hanging onto your every word, you almost catch yourself giving him a long-winded lecture about the subject. 

“Let’s stop talking about this or I’ll never shut up,” you whine, noticing the food’s nearly done. “We’re talking about me too much.”

Mark chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You know I don’t mind,” he says, eyes wandering around your small place for a moment until stopping at your bookshelf. “I’m a little curious about what you’ve got there. Would you mind if I check it out?” 

“Not at all,” you answer, gesturing for him to step closer for a better look. “It’s a chaotic collection, though. There’s pretty much a bit of everything in there.”

As he stands in front of your mess of a bookshelf, Mark runs his fingers through a few spines, attentively eyeing the titles. “I don’t really know a whole lot about books but I can spot some classics here.”

You nod, moving closer to stand beside him. “I haven’t read a few of these in a long time.” 

Glancing over with a knowing smile, he gives you a playful nudge. “Any recommendations?”

Pausing for a second, you briefly mull over a few options before settling on a shorter one, the book's cover instantly earning a laugh out of Mark as you hand it over to him. Though as he reads the title, his gaze turns pensive and you can’t help a fond smile from growing on your lips.

“You can have this one,” you say quietly, Mark breaking out of a trance as he turns to look at you again. “Tell me what you think of it later.”

Mark offers a soft smile, tapping the cover with his fingers. “I'll trust your judgment,” he murmurs, eyes alight with a playful glint. “Maybe I should let you read some of my stuff, then.”

“Maybe I have already,” you tease, arms crossing over your chest as you stare him right back. “If you’re a writer under a pen name, you could be the author of any of these books as far as I know.”

“I’m not that secretive about my writing, I promise.” He smiles, though a bit guarded. “I just don’t really like sharing all of it.”

The conversation lingers between you for a moment, your mind completely taken by Mark’s duality. As you try to figure him out, the lines that seem to draw his persona get more and more blurry. 

Though there’s something effortlessly cool and laidback about him, Mark’s still shy and a little reserved. He’s guarded, but also somehow open to talk about anything and everything. In a way, it feels like a nice balance, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s any missing pieces to him that you can’t see now.

The sudden ring of his phone stops you from taking up on the offer of reading whatever he wanted you to. 

Mark keeps looking at you apologetically as a Johnny talks to him, visibly frustrated with the conversation despite the usual easygoing tone lacing his voice. 

When the call wraps up, he tucks the phone into his hoodie again with a sigh. “I'm really sorry,” he starts, sounding nothing but sincere. “Apparently something happened at work and I’m the only one who can fix it.”

Rolling your eyes, you smile dismissively. “It’s fine, Mark. I hope everything’s okay, though.”

Once at your doorway, Mark hesitates for a second, gaze softening as he turns around to step closer to you. “I’ll make it up to you, alright?” He smiles, offering a firm nod. “We’ll talk later.”

With your face suddenly on fire, you dazedly return the smile, unsure of what to reply. “Alright.” 

In the silence of your apartment later that night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something had shifted between you.

The aftermath of your last encounter is anything but ideal. 

With both of you caught up in your own deadlines and work-fueled late nights, even the chances of casually running into each other around the building seemed to be far-fetched over the coming days. 

While you were wrapped up in a blur of revised drafts and emails from your advisor, unbeknownst to you, Mark himself was occupied with the very same matter that interrupted your shared dinner, struggling with last-minute changes for an artist’s upcoming project. 

Though there was little time between you, the tenderness of Mark’s promise still lingered with you, expectation building in your heart at the thought of seeing him again.

It’s still early in the morning as you wait for the elevator at your floor, relieved that another hectic week is finally over. As you silently plan to ignore your to-do list for the weekend to catch up with the last episodes of a show you’ve been procrastinating on, the doors open to reveal Mark already inside.

Leaning against the wall with wired earphones around his neck, he instantly straightens up upon seeing you, a sheepish smile curling on his lips. “Hey, neighbor.”

Offering a smile back, you step by his side with a gentle glance. “Hi, Mark.”

As you stand there for a moment, there’s an edge of hesitation that both seem to notice, then choosing to speak at the same time. 

“Sorry I haven’t—”

“I’m sorry for not—”

Both of you pause again, sharing a surprised laugh for a second before Mark motions for you to go first. 

“I just want to say sorry for not keeping in touch these days,” you confess, sighing apologetically. “I think you know already, but things got crazy with my deadlines and I completely lost the timing to reach you back after dinner.”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head, offering a warm-hearted chuckle. “I’m really sorry too, I know I promised to make it up to you but things just… kind of piled up. I kept meaning to text you, but something always came up.”

You nod in understanding, giving a meek shrug as your hands tighten around the strap of your bag. “It’s okay with me too.”

“So… what time are your classes ending these days?” Mark asks offhandedly, clearing his throat as he looks ahead. “Like, today?”

“Today?” you ask, confused despite your amusement. “Around six, I think?”

With a nod, his answer sounds so quiet that you almost miss it. “That’s good,” he mumbles, almost as if to himself before he glances at you again, smiling lightly. “Good luck with your classes today, then.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the lobby, again drawing the conversation to an end before you can answer. As you step out, Mark keeps a small distance behind you, a subtle hesitation in his step once you’re both outside ready to part ways. 

You exchange quick goodbyes, each turning toward your own direction. 

As he’s a few steps down the street, you call out for his name, voice carrying a teasing edge. “I’ll see you later, neighbor.”

Much to your delight, you do see Mark later—at your university, no less, waiting for you outside the humanities building. Though it’s easy to spot him, the button-up and tank-top combo somehow making him stand out, you can’t hide the shock upon recognizing his familiar figure casually standing around, offering a wave as he spots you.  

You quickly close the few steps towards him, a confused smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God, it’s really you. I thought I was crazy for a second.”

Mark laughs, cheeks hinting a blush despite his nonchalant nod. “I was just around the area and thought I’d swing by to check if you needed company home.”

“I do,” you say, still surprised. “I hope you didn’t wait for too long.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He smiles, glancing at you with warm eyes. “Ready to go?”

You hum softly. “Yeah.”

Still caught off-guard by his thoughtfulness, you’re most definitely not expecting Mark to quietly offer his hand out towards you. It’s a gentle, open gesture and though he does it very naturally, there’s a hint of apprehension on his face, as if he’s unsure of your reaction. 

Without a word, you immediately slip your hand into his, heart thumping in your ears.

As both of you set off to the station, a strangely familiar sense of intimacy sets between you during the walk. 

The subway is typically packed, chaos all around you with a mob of wide-eyed tourists and aggravated locals fighting for space, loud voices and chit-chat carrying out all the way through the tight space. At the end of a car, you squeeze into a quieter spot as Mark stands right in front of you, close enough to subtly tower over your figure.

Your eyes discreetly take in his frame, pausing at the glasses hanging on the collar of his tank-top. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in glasses yet,” you say, raising an amused eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me this is just for aesthetics, Mark.” 

“I kinda wish it was, actually,” he argues, grimacing. “I mostly wear contacts, though. I keep breaking or losing all my glasses.” 

Carefully pulling them out, you reach over and gently place the glasses on his face, regarding him for a second with a grin. “It looks cute, you should wear them more.”

As if he needs something to do with his hands, Mark adjusts the frames on his face, his cheeks heating up in a faint blush. “Oh—yeah, I guess. Thank you?”

The playful glint in your eyes goes unnoticed by him, grin widening at how endearing his flustered reaction is. “You’re welcome,” you say, leaning in just enough to make him look down at you again. “The blush looks cute on you, too.”

“Come on,” Mark chides, huffing a surprised, timid laugh. “Don’t do that to me.”

As your curiosity moves on to the wired earphones still wrapped around his neck, your fingers graze the cord before you take an earbud, slipping into your ear with a pointed look at him. Mark instantly takes the hint, picking the spare one before reaching over for his phone, scrolling through until a smooth beat starts playing. 

Absorbed into the music, you don’t even notice Mark taking a step closer to avoid the flow of people around you, one of your hands subconsciously moving to steady him by holding onto his waist. 

The songs blend into each other for a few stations as both of you focus on the playlist instead, sneaking playful glances at each other every so often. 

“So you’re a bit of a rockstar, huh?” he asks after a while, smiling warmly at the confusion on your face over his sudden remark. “It’s just that you seemed to vibe with the rock stuff more than I expected.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling back with a hint of challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I just like your taste in music.” 

Mark chuckles, running a hand through the back of his neck. “Not gonna lie, that kinda makes me feel good about myself,” he says, earning a genuine laugh from you. “I’ll link you up to my playlist, then.”

“Don’t pay too much attention to me next time,” you chide, feigning a frown despite the playfulness in your eyes. 

He shakes his head, voice sounding nothing but sincere as his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, raising your chin up just a tiny bit. “I’ll always pay attention to you.”

Just as his words sink in, the conductor’s cracked voice finally announces your station, leaving you silently grateful for the chance to collect yourself, your burning cheeks thankfully going unnoticed by Mark.

As he takes your hand again, you both move through the small crowd at the platform, the cool night air soon welcoming you outside over the short walk to the building. Though it feels shorter than usual, you still hang onto Mark’s stories with his friends, Johnny and Donghyuck, invested in the mischievous tidbits of their friendship shared on the way. 

At the elevator, you stand beside him for a second time in the day. 

Except that this time, leaving with a quick kiss to his cheek, you know exactly what Mark means to you.

Mark can’t help but read the letter a little differently now.

As an awkward mix of comfort and uncertainty grows in his heart at every word, not even the refuge of his studio feels enough to ease the tension of his thoughts. 

The feeling that you’re the author of the message that he’s been obsessed with for the past couple of months comes with a weight that Mark hasn’t been quite sure how to deal with yet. The kindness laced to the letter already felt way too personal then, but now, it carries a sense of intimacy that feels directly connected to you.

It makes him feel a little silly too, realizing that you’ve entirely known him all along, nonetheless unknowingly witnessing the exact pieces that Mark held close to himself. Still, despite his ongoing conflict, he does marvel at the serendipity of the situation.

Lost in thought, Mark barely notices Johnny sidling over until the oldest takes a seat beside him at the mixing table, raising an eyebrow at the paper in his hands. “Reading the mystery letter again?”

“Sorry,” he chuckles humorlessly, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “I know I’ve been too hung up on this thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” Johnny huffs, offering an odd look to his friend despite the playfulness of his words. “You got a letter from a mysterious neighbor. So what?”

Mark pauses, clicking his tongue as he finally looks up at Johnny. “Actually… it might not be that mysterious anymore, I guess.”

Johnny’s eyes widen in genuine surprise, interest suddenly piqued. “Are you telling me you found out who wrote your love letter?”

“Remember the girl you saw me talking to at Jaehyun’s open mic?” Mark asks, fingers nervously fiddling with the letter as Johnny nods. “We’ve been kinda hanging out lately and she’s… you know, also my neighbor.”

His friend blinks, visibly impressed by the unexpected twist. “Damn, Haechan is right.” Johnny snorts, a knowing grin soon taking over. “Your life is fucking ridiculous, Mark.”

“I’m not really sure it’s her, though,” he counters, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean, I think it could be. The way she talks to me sort of reminds me of how the letter is written. It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Then ask her,” Johnny offers, as if he’s stating the obvious. “What’s the worst that could happen? You’re already talking to each other anyway.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s just me wishful thinking?” Mark shrugs, a sigh escaping his mouth. “I don’t want to confuse her with my shit. I actually like her a lot, Johnny.”

As brotherly as ever, the oldest lets out a quiet chuckle, regarding his friend with attentive eyes. “You’re overthinking it, Mark,” Johnny chides softly. “If it’s her, great for you, but if it’s not, then it’s just a story you can tell.”

At the reassuring words, Mark turns the idea around in his head. Deep down, he knows that his hesitation says more about him than you—after all, finding out the truth means that he’s vulnerable, parts of him that even he can’t understand yet exposed. Mark also knows that you haven’t given him anything worth doubting your sincerity. 

It’s actually quite the opposite, given he hasn’t felt so oddly understood and seen in a long time, despite how good he is at his job and how well he’s perceived by the people around him.

Considering Johnny’s input in the brief moment, Mark eventually nods. “I’ll think about it, promise.”

“If she got to know you as well as we do, I know she likes you just as much,” Johnny finishes, giving an encouraging pat to his shoulder. “Just make sure to get out of your head a little, alright?”

Taking one last look at the letter before tucking it away, nerves pleasantly buzzing in his chest, Mark decidedly acquiesces. 

What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

The music starts almost shyly at first, chords soon carrying through the walls softly and unassuming. 

You pause mid-motion, fingers hovering over the keyboard of your laptop as your brain instantly loses the next few lines of your assignment. It finally dawns on you that your mysterious neighbor has returned—at the same time as you realize that you hadn’t noticed their absence at all, for a while now. 

As always, you can’t help but love the unknown melody though it strangely stirs something bittersweet in your heart, somewhat apologetic over not feeling their disappearance enough.

It makes you think of the letter. 

Did your neighbor read it? What did they think of it? Did it mean anything to them?

It’s a given that your thoughts also wander to Mark, the significance of your growing relationship definitely not lost as you slowly recognize how his presence has filled so much of your mind lately, so much of your days. 

It almost feels like the song’s tenderness is engraved onto your brain once it fades away, over as suddenly as it started. As the weight of the silence settles in, you feel stupidly torn between the comfort you’d found and the one you’d forgotten. 

Mark 7:23PM Hey rockstar I’m home Kinda want to hear your thoughts on this Care to have a listen?

It’s an unusually quiet Saturday evening for you. 

At the buzz of your phone, Mark’s name lighting up the screen for a brief second, you take a pause from your book. Though seeing his name doesn’t surprise you, given you’ve been texting back and forth all day, your curiosity immediately takes over as you read through the cryptic messages followed by a download link. 

7:24PM You’re home? I hope you aren’t scamming me 😛

Since Mark had to suddenly cancel the plans you’d made earlier in the week due to work, you’re eager to see him, especially now as the university’s break nears by a couple of days. Before you can text him to come over though, another message comes through.

Mark 7:25PM Please listen to it baby

As your heart leaps at the reply, you’re quick to follow his request.

Then, Mark’s suddenly singing to you.

The guitar chords are unmistakable to your ears. It’s the very same melody played by your mysterious neighbor a few nights ago, except the sound’s definitely richer now, crystal clear with no walls in the way to hold back its softness. His voice feels incredibly tender, warm and light like a hug, almost as if he’s poured his soul into it. 

A shiver runs through your body as realization finally hits you—all this time, Mark has been your mysterious neighbor, the very one you’d sent a secret letter to, your unknown comfort presence. 

You’re not even properly thinking when rushing upstairs, urgently knocking on the door of the apartment right above yours. 

As it swings open, one look at him is enough for you to throw your arms around Mark’s neck, catching him by surprise by pressing your lips against his. It takes a second for him to react, his own arms soon wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. As he blindly steps back inside, Mark kicks the door closed before deepening the kiss, both hands at the back of your head.

You’re not sure how long it lasts but when you pull away, both of you light-headed and breathless, it still doesn’t feel long enough. 

With flushed cheeks, Mark sighs in a mix of wonder and disbelief. “Wow, this is… wow,” he manages, chest still heaving. “What’s going on?”

The dazed look on his face earns a laugh from you, especially as it pairs with his messy hair and disheveled clothes. Completely endeared by his reaction, you lean closer again, brushing a quick, feather-light kiss against Mark’s lips before he can even react.

“You’re my mysterious neighbor,” you start, voice soft with admiration as your hands cup his cheeks. “You’re the one who’s been playing music all this time.”

He gives you a small smile, subtly leaning into your hold. “You’re the one who wrote the letter.”

“This is crazy, Mark,” you say, huffing at the absurdity of the situation in both disbelief and amazement. “I can’t believe you’re the person I’ve been obsessed with since I moved in.”

His brows raise slightly, a teasing glint replacing the warmth in his eyes. “You’ve been obsessed with me?”

“You have no idea how much I loved listening to you.” You smile unabashedly, fingertips gently brushing at his cheeks. “I was always so happy whenever I came home and you’d just start playing out of nowhere. It felt like you knew exactly when I needed your music, you know.”

As his face softens, Mark watches you for a second. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, voice quieter. “The letter you sent me… did you mean all of that?”

Meeting his gaze, you nod without hesitation. “I wouldn’t have written it if I didn’t.”

As he wraps his arms around you in the warmest, heartfelt hug, Mark pulls back just enough so his lips are meeting yours again, the slow kiss melting your body against his own. 

Though pulling yourself away from Mark feels like a challenge, as you breathlessly step back from his hold, your eyes are immediately taking in every detail around. 

Sometimes, you’d foolishly envision your mysterious neighbor’s apartment, wondering how different it could be from your own. So it feels surreal standing there now and realizing that everything feels very, very Mark. It’s almost like the place pieces together parts of him that you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

An entire wall of vinyls and CDs, a few collectible toys here and there on the shelves, instruments all around his living room—all of it explains so much about him.

Walking over to check his collection much like he did with your books, you shoot him a curious glance. “So you’re a musician?”

“You could say that.” Mark frowns, pausing for a second before he sighs. “I mean, I work with music but I’m actually just a songwriter for a record label.”

Your eyes light up, a gasp escaping from your lips. “So I was right when I said you were a writer,” you reply, satisfaction taking over your face. “Did you write the song you sent me?”

He nods, feeling surprisingly at ease despite having spent half of the day restless over the recording. “Yeah, it was me,” Mark answers, chuckling at your enthusiasm. “You didn’t tell me what you’d think of it yet.”

“Are you kidding? The fact you’re my mysterious neighbor wasn’t the only thing that made me attack you just now,” you joke as he bursts into a laugh. “I do wonder who it was about, though.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. “You think I’m going to tell you that easily?”

With a knowing grin, you silently turn back to scanning the rows of albums in his shelves again. As he steps behind you, Mark specifically reaches out for a CD, your eyes curiously scanning the cover.

“It’s only fair giving you a recommendation too, right?” he muses, smiling gently. “A rock classic for a rockstar seems fitting enough.”

The subtle implication laced to his words make your smile widen, album still in your hands as you glance at him over your shoulder. “Would you sing it for me if I asked?”

Mark hesitates, though seemingly more out of confusion than anything else. “Like… right now?” 

As you turn around to face him, there’s a hint of reassurance on your face. “You don’t really have to, but I’d love to hear it with no walls between us this time.”

There’s a touch of confidence to the way Mark leads you to his couch, a hand on the small of your back until he settles beside you with a guitar on his lap. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen him, dark hair sitting above his eyes and glasses perched on his nose, the little moles on his face calling you for a kiss.

The silence between you is soon filled by the guitar, Mark strumming the familiar melody with an ease that you can’t help amaze at. The softness of his voice embraces you again, anticipation growing with every word between your shared glances.

With the last chord drawing the song to a close, you’re the one pulling the guitar away before leaning over, kissing Mark again as he welcomes you closer. 

“So, you and me,” he starts, nose brushing against yours as you hum, smiling against his mouth. “Are we really doing this? For real now?” 

Your heart has never felt so full and assured, no hesitation to your answer.

“We’re doing this.”

The crowd’s applause slowly settles as Mark leaves the stage.

There’s a mix of adrenaline and contentment simmering in his chest, heart still racing as he clutches his guitar closer, taking one last look at the familiar atmosphere—for the first time, not as a mere spectator, but as a performer. 

As your voice breaks through his high, Mark turns around just in time to put the guitar away before you leap into his arms, kissing him so deeply as if you haven’t seen him for weeks. 

A wide smile takes over your face once pulling away, excitement practically spilling over from your eyes. “Oh my God, you were so good!” 

He grins, instinctively reaching for your waist to hold you close. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you gush, expression softening for a second. “I’m so proud of you, baby. It was really incredible, you killed it.”

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” he confesses gently, a contrast to his firm gaze. “If you hadn’t insisted so much… I think I’d still be stuck in my head about it, you know.”

“You were the one up there performing, not me,” you argue, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “It was all you, your music and your talent.”

Mark shakes his head, a chuckle escaping from his mouth as he closes his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “You’re crazy,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for not letting me give up on this.”

As you pull back from his hold to meet his eyes, a playful smile curls on your lips. “I take my thanks in the form of take-out.”

He just laughs, nodding softly. “Let’s go home, then.”

Just like that, under a galaxy of stars in the sky and the warmth of a summer evening, Mark lets you guide him back home.

[moonstruckme]

jilly teaming up on reader when she hasn’t slept for a few nights cause she’s studying; so they trick her into doing things to make her sleepy

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 879 words

Your textbook is starting to blur in front of you, but you’re not sure if that’s due to fatigue or the poor lighting. You squint to make out the small font. James is in the habit of turning lights on wherever he goes, and Lily often follows behind him shutting them off. She likely forgot you were still up studying. 

You drag yourself out of your chair, going to the switches by the kitchen, but to your surprise the kitchen light is on. Both of your partners are huddled by the stove, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Lily pulls away when she sees you. 

“Hi, baby,” she says in a soft voice, hugging you without premise. You’re confused but hardly resistant, melting a little as your arms come around her in response. 

You notice for the first time that there’s music playing from James’ cassette player. It’s soft and slow, one of the jazz tracks Lily sometimes likes to listen to while cooking or tidying. You must have been really lost in your reading not to have heard it come on. 

Lily’s hand draws up your back, rubbing soothingly between your shoulder blades. “Are you ready for bed?” she asks you. 

Her voice is so lulling, so tempting, you could almost fall asleep right then and there. But you take in a breath and straighten. You hadn’t realized how much you’d begun to sag against her. 

“Can’t.” You give her a fond squeeze before letting go. “I have to study.” 

“I’d say you have studied, sweetheart,” James says. He’s looking at you with concern in his brown eyes. 

You offer him a rueful smile. “Still some left to go.” You go to the light switches, turning up the ones above and near your table, which were set terribly dim. “You guys go to bed. I’ll be there later, I’m just gonna…” You cover a yawn. “...gonna make myself some tea for now.” 

Lily frowns, but James knows better than to argue once you’ve made up your mind. “Alright,” he says, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to the center of your forehead before reaching into the cabinet above you for a mug. “You sit, I’ll make it.” 

“Thanks, Jamie.” You smile at him. Take Lily’s hand, kissing her palm. “Thanks.” 

You devote yourself back to your textbook. It’s difficult to make the words stick, but you force yourself to concentrate, focusing on each one in turn until it sinks in. Then the next. It’s a long and tiring process, and some of the ideas slip away anyway. 

After a while, you’re leaning down with your nose nearly to the book, squinting at the words again, and you realize the lights aren’t bright anymore. They’ve dimmed again. How did…surely if it had happened quickly, you would have noticed? 

You have to get up again to turn them back up. You know this, but your body sits heavy in your chair. Exhaustion seeps from your bones into your bloodstream, a slow, steady drudge. You’re well on your way to actually putting your nose to your book and falling asleep on top of it when a mug appears in front of you. 

You drag your eyes up to see James, soft and half shadowed in the low light. 

“Oh, thanks.” You pick up the mug, your saving grace, and will your hands not to shake. 

“No problem, lovie,” says James. His voice sounds quieter than you think you’ve ever heard it. 

You’re halfway through a long sip before you realize something is amiss. “Is this milk?” 

A pause. 

“Is this warm milk?” 

James’ hand finds the back of your neck, thumb moving back and forth over your baby hairs tranquilizingly. “Do you feel sleepy?” he asks in that same soft voice. 

A chuckle from the kitchen. “Subtle, James,” says Lily, not without affection. 

“Oh, come on. Like you were subtle asking her to go to bed.” 

“Sweetheart.” Lily comes over to wrap her arms around you from behind your chair, warm cheek pressed to yours. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?” 

“I’m…” Another yawn comes to answer for you. “Yes, but…but that’s by design, isn’t it?” You think of the dimmed lights, the milk, the jazz music. “I’m only tired because you’ve made me.” 

“No, you’re tired because you need to sleep.” Her hand rubs at your clavicle, a slow back and forth. “We’re only trying to help it along.” 

“I…” You yawn again, a long one. Your eyes water. 

“You’re adorable.” James kisses the side of your head, lingering so you’re smushed between him and Lily. There are worse places to be, you suppose. “Come on. It’ll all be there in the morning.” 

“But I’m—” 

“You’re knackered, is what you are.” James’ tone is teasing bent under the weight of fondness. He draws you out of your chair with an arm under your shoulders, and you let him. His words muffle into the top of your head. “Not to mention stubborn. I dread the day you and Lils gang up on me instead. The thought genuinely scares me.” 

“We don’t need to,” Lily tells him, sweetly matter-of-fact. “You’re too amenable.” 

“I have my rebellions.” 

She pats him on the shoulder as you cross the threshold to the bedroom. “Sure, love.”

[starksweasley]

Throwing Books // James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Platonic! Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: In which both you and James have been too stressed and you finally break (angst, fluff)

Word Count: 1734

The library was suffocating. Your textbooks loomed in front of you, the words blurring into an incomprehensible haze. Normally, you’d find solace here—a quiet corner to focus and drown out the chaos of Hogwarts. But tonight, the silence pressed down on you, amplifying your frustration. And then there was James.

The fight from earlier replayed in your mind like a broken record. He’d yelled, you’d yelled louder, and then you’d thrown a book. A bloody book. It hadn’t even been a small one; the thud it made as it hit the floor echoed through the common room, silencing everyone. Sirius’s jaw had dropped, Peter’s eyes had widened, and Remus—sweet, patient Remus—had been the one to step in, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you away before you could hurl something else.

“What the hell was that?” he’d hissed, his golden-brown eyes wide with disbelief as he pulled you into the empty corridor.

“He started it!” you’d snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears. Frustration bubbled beneath your skin, making your hands tremble.

“And you finished it by nearly taking his head off with a Charms textbook? Brilliant plan,” Remus had replied, his sarcasm biting but oddly comforting. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly in a soothing motion. “Come on,” he said, his voice softening when he noticed your trembling form. “Let’s cool off.”

You hesitated, looking back towards the common room, your anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “He doesn’t understand, Remus. He doesn’t care about how hard everything feels right now.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Remus countered gently, his calm voice a stark contrast to your stormy emotions. “He cares too much. That’s why you’re both at each other’s throats. You’re both stubborn as hell, and it’s exhausting watching you two try to out-angst each other.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, a touch of warmth softening his words.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “That doesn’t mean he gets to yell at me like that.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Remus agreed, his expression growing serious. “But you didn’t exactly take the high road either. Chucking a brick of a textbook at him? Really?��

“It was within reach,” you muttered, looking away as a blush crept up your cheeks.

Remus chuckled softly, the sound almost affectionate. “You’re impossible, you know that?” He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “Come on. Let’s walk. You need to cool off before you destroy the entire Gryffindor common room.”

He tugged you down the corridor, his calm presence easing some of the tension knotting your chest. As you walked, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re both just stressed and taking it out on each other. He misses you, you know.”

Your steps faltered slightly, but you caught yourself. “He has a funny way of showing it.”

Remus sighed, his tone patient. “James Potter isn’t exactly the poster child for emotional intelligence. But he’s trying. And so are you. Maybe meet him halfway?”

You allowed yourself to be led away, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind only exhaustion and a faint twinge of guilt.

Now, hours later, you sat in the library, staring blankly at your notes. The fight had drained you, left a hollow ache in your chest that no amount of studying could fill. James hadn’t come after you, and that hurt more than you cared to admit. You were both busy, sure—you with school, him with Quidditch—but you’d always found time for each other. Until now.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, slamming your book shut. The noise earned a sharp glare from Madam Pince, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t sit here another second, not when the thought of James out on the pitch, still angry, gnawed at you.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed your things and bolted from the library. The air was crisp as you stepped outside, the distant glow of the Quidditch pitch guiding your steps. The sounds of late-night drills reached you before the sight of him did—the thwack of a Bludger, the whistle of wind as brooms cut through the air. And then there he was.

James flew with a kind of reckless grace, his hair a wild mess, his face flushed from exertion. He didn’t see you at first, too focused on chasing the Quaffle. You hesitated, watching him for a moment longer. Even now, angry and hurt, you couldn’t help but think he looked… incredible.

Steeling yourself, you reached into your bag and grabbed the first thing your hand landed on: another book. With a determined throw, you sent it sailing into the air, straight into his line of vision.

“Oi!” he shouted, swerving to avoid it. He caught sight of you as the book tumbled to the ground. “What is it with you and throwing books at me lately?”

You shrugged, your heart pounding as he descended. “They get your attention, don’t they?”

He landed with a thud, his broom clattering to the ground. “You’re mad, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “But so are you.”

James’s face softened, though his eyes still held a spark of irritation. He approached slowly, his broom abandoned behind him, until he was just a step away. “What do you want, love?” he asked, his tone weary. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

“You think it hasn’t been for me?” The words came out sharper than you intended, your frustration bubbling to the surface again. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “I hate fighting with you, James. I hate this. It’s… exhausting.”

His sigh was long and heavy, and he ran a hand through his hair, messing it further. “Yeah, well, maybe you should think about that before you start chucking books.” Despite the edge in his tone, his lips twitched like he was trying to suppress a smile.

“Don’t put this all on me,” you shot back, the anger simmering in your chest. “You yelled first!”

“Because you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” he snapped, his voice rising as he stepped closer. “Do you know how bloody frustrating it is to feel like you don’t have time for me anymore? Like I’m not important to you?”

“I’m drowning in schoolwork, James! What do you want me to do? Drop everything and watch you play Quidditch?” Your voice wavered, and you hated how vulnerable it made you sound.

“I just want you to talk to me!” he shouted, the words bursting out before he could stop them. His voice cracked on the last word, and he dropped his gaze to the ground, the anger in his posture giving way to something softer, something raw. “I… I miss you.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy and unguarded. His hand fidgeted at his side, as if he was unsure whether to reach for you. You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sank in.

“James…” you began, but your voice faltered. You bit your lip, the frustration and sadness from the past weeks rising like a tide.

“You’re my person,” he continued, quieter now, his voice almost breaking. “And not talking to you, even for a day, it’s awful. I hate it.” His hazel eyes met yours, full of the vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. For avoiding you, for the fight, for everything. You’re important to me, James. You always have been.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, and he took another step closer, until he was right in front of you. “Are we okay?” he prompted softly, his voice gentle but his gaze searching, almost pleading.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your movements quick and almost desperate. Your arms looped tightly around his neck, yanking him down as you pressed your lips to his. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was fervent, an outpouring of every emotion that had bubbled under your skin all day. Anger, frustration, longing—they all coalesced in that moment. He froze for a half-second, his breath hitching against your lips, before melting into the kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the tension in his grip, like he was afraid to let go. The faint taste of salt and the lingering warmth of his exertion made your head spin, and the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothing but him.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm on your skin. “You’re insane,” he murmured, though his lips curved into a small smile.

“Takes one to know one,” you replied, a watery laugh escaping you. You felt your chest lighten, but your mind was still racing. Glancing at the book you had thrown earlier, now resting abandoned on the ground, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You’d think with all the books I’ve chucked at you today, I’d be the one to apologize to Madam Pince for ruining library property,” you said, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

He laughed, a sound that warmed you from the inside out. “I think she’d sooner ban you for life than let you borrow another one,” he teased, his arms still secure around you. “But you do owe me a new Charms book, by the way.”

“Oh, do I?” you quipped, arching a brow.

“Definitely,” he replied, his grin widening. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But maybe I’ll let it slide if you promise not to avoid me again.”

You smiled, your fingers idly playing with the collar of his Quidditch jersey. “Deal,” you murmured, the word carrying more weight than a simple agreement.

As the night settled around you, James finally pulled back, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You know,” he started, his tone light, “this whole book-throwing thing? Kind of impressive. But if you’re ever mad at me again, maybe try not aiming at my head.”

You laughed, the sound clear and unburdened. “Noted, Potter. Noted.”

[kikuism]

im so sorry t kingfisher but i couldn't get through paladin's strength...

[theswizzle16]

hello ive been offline for three days but my revising is going well so thats something

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.