#open closed principle

[codeonedigest]

Interface Segregation Principle Tutorial with Java Coding Example for Beginners  

Hello friends, new #video on #interfacesegregationprinciple #solidprinciples with #Java #coding #example is published on #codeonedigest #youtube channel. Learn #isp #interfacesegregation #principle #interface #programming #coding with codeonedigest. @java

Interface Segregation principle is the Fourth principle of SOLID principles. Interface Segregation principle states that Clients should not be forced to depend upon interfaces that they do not use. Similar to the Single Responsibility Principle, the goal of the Interface Segregation Principle is to reduce the side effects and frequency of required changes by splitting the software into multiple,…

[vancalox]

do i make ashara more devoted to mythal post trespasser or do i alienate her from the evanuris entirely. is she immune to propaganda by virtue of how badly solas damaged her ability to believe in anything or is she especially vulnerable to it now bc she still WANTS to believe in anything. is she sporting subtle mythal details in her costume design or is she not

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

[brittlebutch]

sonic and snufkin actually kind of feel like very similar characters to me. holding hands over “my personal sense of freedom and dedication to making decisions based on what I think is right is what matters most, and if you’ve built some idealized version of me in your head then that’s none of my business and it’s not my responsibility if the reality of who i am lets you down in some way”. also the deep connection to nature and all.

[emotional-piece-of-meat]

Duke spent all his childhood and most of his teenage years in a middle class family, so I like to think that he carried these habits into his rich life as well.

Example 1:

Duke: who the fuck is wasting our water? Do you know how expensive the bill will be next month?

Tim: Do you know that even if we had opened all the taps in the manor, Bruce would still have no problem paying for them for at least the next ninety years?

Duke, closing the faucet: yeah, what's your point?

Example 2:

Duke: It's literally a rip-off! Six dollars for a fucking yogourt?! Nah, let's go Cass, bet I can find an analog for three.

Cass, handing him the hundred dollar bill that Bruce gave them to buy two yogourts (he didn't know the price and just hoped that it was enough): ?

Duke, dragging her out of the store: It's a principle now, let's go.

Example 3:

Dick, accidentally dropping his phone: oopsie-

Duke, without thinking: of course, go on and break it. We are all billionaires here, aren't we?

Dick, pretty much confused: well, technically…

Duke: I see you, victim of capitalism.

He also constantly turns off the lights when someone leaves the room for more than 0,5 seconds, because it pisses him off.

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream. 

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it. 

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’. 

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that. 

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.” 

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?” 

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain. 

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.” 

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.” 

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.” 

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand. 

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her. 

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.” 

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..” 

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.” 

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night? 

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment. 

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?” 

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.” 

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word. 

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again. 

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea. 

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better. 

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you. 

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that. 

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart. 

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work. 

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away. 

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction. 

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou. 

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you. 

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse. 

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but. 

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.” 

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point. 

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice. 

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro. 

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest. 

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened. 

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. 

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat. 

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened. 

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched. 

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore. 

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win? 

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt. 

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life. 

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back? 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.” 

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard. 

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband. 

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?” 

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.” 

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.” 

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it. 

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today? 

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye. 

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!” 

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground. 

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news. 

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened. 

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want. 

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with. 

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance. 

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki. 

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.” 

As always. 

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?” 

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.” 

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back. 

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.” 

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.” 

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left. 

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.” 

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most? 

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death. 

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring. 

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!” 

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.  

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.” 

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you. 

“Doctor, how’s he?” 

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?” 

“Is he stable, doc?” 

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault! 

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!” 

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation? 

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!” 

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard. 

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Akemi. 

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you. 

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now? 

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he? 

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for. 

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child. 

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied. 

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you. 

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous. 

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth. 

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do. 

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears. 

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s. 

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside. 

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi. 

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.  

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.” 

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family. 

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else. 

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home. 

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions. 

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him. 

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?” 

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that. 

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you. 

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action. 

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”  

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe. 

They were still. 

You. 

And the wind. 

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

[lucyrose191]

TAME THE WOLFF| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader

Summary; A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath

Warnings; angry Toto.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that during a race weekend Toto could get a little….frustrated.

Okay, frustrated was putting it way too lightly, the man got way too passionate about his work and when things didn’t go the way they’re supposed to it was like a volcano was erupting in his mind and he just loses all sense of control leading him to his famous actions of smashing headphones.

The Austrian was already intimidating enough with his tall stature and the confidence he eluded but when he was angry he wasn’t just intimidating, he was scary.

The way his dark eyes seemed to turn almost entirely black and how the veins in his forehead throbbed were signs that had the Mercedes team shifting in their seats and the moment he started running his hands down his face was the moment the higher people in the team would get their phones out and call for help.

That help being you.

It had taken a long time for the team to acknowledge the effect you had on their team principle because he never got angry when you attended races but it was when you arrived to races later in the day that they started to see how things changed.

It was one particular day when Toto had arrived to the track already a bit frustrated, whether that was because of your absence or not they didn’t know but the pile up of disastrous events had lead to the team principle throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Then you arrived.

You certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the garage and be greeted by your husband in a fit of rage and the entire team stood frozen like petrified animals but the sight of fear on their faces had upset you greatly, especially knowing that it was because of Toto’s, quite frankly unnecessary, tantrum.

You walked over to your husband, who hadn’t even noticed you amidst his anger, and gently placed your hand on his arm.

Any member of the team would’ve called you crazy in that moment, walking over to the beast of a man with no fear on your face when he could have easily turned around and launched you across the room without even thinking.

He had been ready to throw a fist at the person who had the gall to touch him before he saw that it was you, his beloved wife looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes even as he was acting like a brute.

The team had never seen him change personalities so quickly in that moment.

You didn’t say anything to him, instead you placed your other hand on his back and guided him away from everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to move him by yourself but he allowed you to guide him away with absolutely no argument.

You opened the door of his makeshift office, saying nothing as he strode straight past you without a glance, steam practically spilling from his ears, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Apart from his unsettled shuffling the room was filled with an intense silence as you shut the door, simply watching as his chest rose and fell harshly, you could see that he was trying to calm himself down now that he was in your presence but he was struggling to do so and that was only frustrating him further.

"Sit down," you gently instructed him, nodding towards the small sofa pushed up against the wall of the small room.

He wanted to argue but he stopped himself and did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa he buried his face into his hands.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his head, allowing him to lean into your stomach, you ran your hands through his hair.

"I understand you’re stressed and that things aren’t going the way you want them too but the way you’re shouting is unfair to the team, they are not your verbal punching bag but you’re treating them as they are."

Toto closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closer.

He knew you were right, you always were and that’s what he loved about you, how you were always there to talk some sense into him.

He didn’t say anything though, he just held you firmly but gently and used your presence to calm him down.

There were many things he needed to be doing right now but he couldn’t find himself to care, right now the most important thing was calming down and spending time with you, no matter how long that took.

When the Mercedes team heard the door to their boss’ office unlock and saw the man himself walk out completely calm with you following shortly after, they were beyond amazed.

It was that day that the members of the team who had your number put you on speed dial in preparation for when an incident like this happened again, which it no doubt would.

"It seems that Toto Wolff is beginning to get a little bit frustrated down in the Mercedes garage."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary commentary that wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Your husband was getting agitated and the nearby team members were nervously glancing in his direction as though they were mentally preparing themselves for him to blow his top.

Instead of waiting for Toto to lose it, you stood behind him and loosely wrapped your arms around him, thumbing at the collar of his shirt.

Everyone around could see the tension immediately release from his body just from your comforting touch.

Toto grabbed one of your hands with his own, stroking his thumb back and forth across your skin, using the motion as a way to ground himself.

The whole garage went silent at the sight of both of their cars spinning off the track in turn 1. What once was going to be a promising race from starting second and third has turned into a disaster in such a short amount of time.

Everyone was utterly speechless as the entire team just sat there staring at their monitors in shock.

But then they actually acknowledged that it was silent and all simultaneously turned towards their boss with confused stares only to see you blocking him from the cameras that were pointing into the garage, leaning down and whispering, what they could only guess were calming, words to him.

Whilst the cameras couldn’t see his face, the team could and they could tell he was, rightfully so, furious as the situation, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things.

He definitely wanted to but he wasn’t.

You weren’t really in the mood to be in the garage today surrounded by so much noise to the point you could barely hear yourself think and the smell of fuel so strong it made you nauseous but you still wanted to support your husband as you weren’t able to accompany him everywhere he went so you settled in his makeshift office on what was possibly the worlds smallest sofa with your laptop sitting in your lap and your headphones placed over your ears to block out the noise from the team outside and the cars on the track.

It had been hours and you were content in the alone time you were getting, it was just you and your music playing in your ears that you didn’t notice the multiple calls you were receiving.

Unbeknownst to you, outside of his office, your husband was kicking off and nothing anyone did or said could calm him down.

The team had never witnessed Toto as angry as he was right now, the veins in his forehead more prominent than ever and whilst most didn’t understand the German words coming out of his mouth, they knew he couldn’t be saying anything nice.

Bono was trying to get a hold of you for possibly the twentieth time and he was still having no luck, he felt the pressure of the teams eyes on him, begging for the news that you’d be coming knowing that he was only one of a few that had your number and the means to find you right now but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Poor Lewis and George were getting the brunt of the Austrian’s anger and even though they hadn’t a clue of what he was saying, they were starting to question the security of their jobs.

Luckily, a mechanic who had just entered the garage and was completely taken aback by the scene in front of him, awkwardly side shuffled to Bono and questioned what was going on. "He’s acting crazy! I can’t get a hold of Y/N."

"Didn’t she go straight into his office when they arrived earlier?" The mechanic asked.

Bono looked at him in shock and relief before jumping to his feet and wasting no time as he jogged in the direction of Toto’s office.

It was rude but he didn’t bother knocking, he almost cried when he saw you sitting there.

You got the fright of your life as the door burst open but the sight of a frantic Bono caused you to remove your headphones and look at him in confusion.

"Oh thank god you’re here! Toto’s gone mental!"

You released a sigh at his words and pushed your laptop to the side and got up from the sofa. "What for now?"

"I honestly have no idea but if he doesn’t calm down soon then Lewis and George might just start crying and Toto looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel."

The moment you stepped out into the short, narrow corridor you heard your husbands angry German shouting. "Mein Gott," you muttered to yourself.

Entering the main part of the garage you weren’t greeted by a pretty sight at all, Bono wasn’t overreacting in the way he described Toto, Lewis and George and let’s not forget about the rest of the team.

You headed straight for your husband, not acknowledging the looks of relief you saw build on everyone’s faces, especially the two drivers’.

You didn’t even need to say anything to Toto, you just stood in front of him and looked up at him with a stern gaze that soon got him to shut up but his eyes were still blazing with fury as he looked down at you, you knew his anger wasn’t aimed at you, he was just still pent up with emotions.

You nodded in the direction of his office and simply walked away, expecting him to follow after you if he knew what was good for him.

He followed you.

The moment you heard him close the door you turned to him. "This needs to stop."

He looked at you furiously, "how am I supposed to stop when I have two drivers that can’t even get through a lap without crashing into each other!"

"Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Torger!" Your voice cut through the air as you glared at him which soon caused his face to shift from angry to wounded as you scolded him.

"How hard is it for you to simply sit them down and give them a stern talking to, there’s no need for the way you completely blow your top, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum."

He was still beyond angry, you could see it in his eyes and the way he shifted on his feet and he was about to retort but you cut him off. "I don’t want to hear you right now, I want you to sit down in silence and calm down before a single word comes out of your mouth."

He pursed his lips, not at all happy but he did as he was told and sat down in the chair behind the small desk, you didn’t spare him a glance as you sat yourself back where you were before Bono came searching for you, pulling your laptop back onto your lap to finish what you had been doing.

It was a good 15/20 minutes later when you heard him get up from his seat and make his way over to you. He sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder causing you to roll your eyes but a smile grew on your face at his actions, you were glad he couldn’t see it though.

You continued to carry on with what you were doing, letting him decide how he wanted your conversation to go and so it remained silent for a few more minutes with you and Toto simply sat there, him resting against you simply soaking up the comfort of your presence.

He shifted and pressed a kiss to your temple before returning back to his position. "Are you mad at me?" He asked when you remained silent.

You closed your laptop and put it away before shifting the both of you so you were up straight and looking at each other. "No," you told him honestly, "I just wish you wouldn’t let your frustrations get the best of you all the time."

He looked down at your words before looking back into your eyes with a sincere look, "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay," you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back. "We just need to find a way for you to keep yourself together."

"You’re the way," he replied immediately which stunned you and he was okay with that. He pulled you into his arms and you both just sat there.

You could be quite the opposite at times but you were content with that because you would always be there to ground him whenever his emotions got out of control.

[ivysangel]

surprise post bc my blogs fixed woo hoo!! i initially sent this as an ask to @hanasnx as my contribution to his baby daddy!jason au, but i also wanted to share it here for u guys as a little treat :p

Baby Daddy!Jason, who you co-parent with, in a very civilized way. No joke, the picture of camaraderie between exes. He takes your daughter on the days he's supposed to (which isn't that often, given his occupation) and brings her back on time, always with a little gift for you as well. Flowers, chocolates, a little knick-knack reminiscent of when you were together. It's not because he's in love with you or anything; it's just the principle of the matter. "Happy wife, happy life," not that you were married or even dating, but he figures the mother of his child should get love sometimes.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who, the next time he sees you, it's to drop off something your daughter forgot with him, and as he's handing you the bag, he casually asks why you haven't been asking him to take her more often. You had been for a while when you were going on dates weekly, but for some reason, the relationships never went anywhere, so you just gave up. "Oh, you know, it just wasn't working out." you say off-handedly, "Kept getting ghosted." you sound only marginally disappointed, moreso annoyed. "What a shame, they're really missing out," he says, getting real close to you and taking up your entire field of vision.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's got your entire calendar memorized and knows that his daughter's not home tonight and that you've got no plans other than watching movies in solitude. He knows you're too stubborn to call him over for company even though you've been giving him fuck me eyes in passing for the past few months, so he figures he just has to take matters into his own hands and corner you until you give in like he knows you want to.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who fucks you on damn near every surface in the house, telling you he's just christening the place like he would've already done if you lived together. Whispers apologies in your ears about scaring off all of your dates while he's splitting you open, bullying his cock into you while your eyes roll to the back of your head because you haven't been fucked this good in years, not since the last time you'd been with him. You're face is deep in some pillows when you realize the memories you had of his dick pale in comparison to the real thing, and you aren't sure you could go back to using your imagination to get off after tonight.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who keeps you up all night until your pussy's red and puffy from how many times it'd come in contact with his hips while he was fucking you. Fat tip kissing your cervix until you were clawing at his biceps, begging him to give you some reprieve, tears in your eyes while you babbled incoherently, too lost in the feeling of him to make any sense. He admits in the midst of sex that he tried to get over you; he really did, but he just couldn't; he just couldn't picture you with another man in any capacity. The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, loving you, made his stomach turn, filling him with rage and an overwhelming need to claim you as his.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's a level-headed, non-fragile ego'd man until it comes to his family, which, contrary to what some would say, did not only consist of his daughter but you too, and any guy who tried to get with you was a threat. he didn't know the intentions of other men, but he knew his own, which was to keep his little family happy as long as he was alive. If that meant putting a gun to the head of anyone who made a move on you and consoling you by stretching you out the way he knew you liked until you just said "fuck it" and let him put another baby in you, then so be it.

[authorhjk1]

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

(Kang Seulgi X Male Students feat. TripleS Kotone)

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

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

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

“Good morning."

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

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

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

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

“In biology,"

She talks, evenly underlining the word Adaptation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A pause.

“In this case,"

She adds, her tone soft but edged.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh."

She murmurs softly, pretending to be surprised.

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

The silence that follows is deafening.

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

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

“Let’s continue."

She says smoothly, turning back to the board.

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

“Competition isn’t always obvious."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit. There she is again."

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

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

“She’s been looking good lately.”

“Looking good?”

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

"That girl has cake.”

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

Hyunwoo snorts, biting back a laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That girl has cake.”

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

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

And yet...

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

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

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

What’s wrong with me?

She doesn’t have an answer.

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

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

She tells herself it doesn’t matter.

They’re just kids. Troublemakers.

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

Let them look. Let them talk.

Her expression remains neutral, calm, untouchable.

No one would ever know.

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

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

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

“For the next part of today’s class,"

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

“I want you to work individually.”

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

“Turn to page 67 in your textbooks."

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

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

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

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

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

The five boys haven’t opened their books.

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

“Seungmin."

She says quietly, leaning just slightly over his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look very focused, Jaehyun."

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

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

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

“Keep it up."

Seulgi murmurs softly, as though offering praise.

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

Seulgi’s heels click softly as she walks away.

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

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

Minho looks up, his gaze flicking lazily to her.

“I’m still thinking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seulgi calls as they begin filing out.

“I’ll be collecting it next time.”

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

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

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

What are you doing?

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

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

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

A spark of something dangerous.

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

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

It’s about the power.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why does it feel so good to be seen?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seulgi-ssi? You’re still here?”

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

“Just wrapping up."

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

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

“I won’t."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make sure to finish your notes."

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

"We’ll review them tomorrow.”

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

“See you next time, Miss Kang."

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

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

What’s gotten into them?

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

“That outfit though."

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

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

“It’s not just the clothes."

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

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

Jaehyun tilts his head, his sharp gaze narrowing thoughtfully.

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

Hyunwoo finally speaks up, his voice quiet but firm.

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

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

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

"Well, she’s wrong. We’re not kids.”

“We should let her know that."

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

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

Seungmin raises an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

They’re acting differently.

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

“Careful, Miss Kang.”

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

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

“Excuse me."

She says smoothly, stepping aside to move past them.

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

“Heading to the next class?”

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

“Or were you looking for us?”

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

"Watch your tone."

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

Jiho grins.

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

Seulgi narrows her gaze, straightening her posture.

“Then say it properly.”

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

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

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

“Thank you."

Her fingers tighten slightly around her binder.

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

“See you around."

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

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

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

What just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

But today, her mind is elsewhere.

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

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

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

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

They’re not backing down anymore.

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

“How’s it going?"

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

“Good, we’re almost done.”

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

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

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

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

Seulgi blinks, caught off guard.

“Detention?”

“Yes."

He replies, sliding a clipboard toward her.

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

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

“Sure."

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

“Great."

The vice principal stands up as she signs her name.

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

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

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

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

They’re there.

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

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

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

“Miss Kang!”

Jiho calls, waving her over.

“Taking the long way home?”

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

“Shouldn’t you?”

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

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

“I could say the same to you.”

Hyunwoo chuckles softly from the bleachers.

“It’s more fun out here.”

“Yeah."

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

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

Seulgi hesitates, the words catching her off guard.

“That’s not the point.”

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

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

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

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

“Is it?”

Seulgi raises an eyebrow.

Jaehyun nods, his faint smirk deepening.

"You look different out here.”

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

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

“Maybe."

His tone is unreadable.

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

“You should all head home."

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

“We will. After you.”

Jiho grins at her.

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

They’re still there, watching her.

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

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

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

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

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

And then she sees them.

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

“She’s so hot."

Jiho mutters, loud enough for Seulgi to hear.

“Those legs."

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

Jaehyun chuckles softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?"

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

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

“Miss Kang."

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

"Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly."

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

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

Hyunwoo shrugs, his posture unbothered.

“It’s just one cigarette.”

“One is enough."

She snaps, her frustration flaring.

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

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

“Understood."

Jaehyun's tone is unreadable.

“Good."

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

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

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

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

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

They’re observing.

Testing.

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

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

But the five of them take their time.

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

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

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

For the first time, doubt creeps in.

You’ve teased them too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’ve crossed the line.

And so has she.

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

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

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

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

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

What happens now?

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

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

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

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

How far would they take it if I let them?

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

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

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

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

Kamimoto Kotone

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

Perfect timing.

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

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

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

With his left hand, Jiho skips ahead a little.

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

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

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

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

Jiho groans as his orgasm is only seconds away.

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

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

Miss Kang.

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

“She likes it."

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

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

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

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

“Dinner’s ready."

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute."

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

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

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

She knows they won’t stop. Not now.

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

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

What happens when they want more than just a game?

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

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

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

They’re going to notice.

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

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

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

“So, we’re really doing this?”

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

“Of course we are."

Minho replies, leaning against a desk.

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

Hyunwoo chuckles softly.

“Think she’d actually let us?”

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

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

“What about the stuff we talked about?”

Jiho asks, his voice lowering slightly.

“We can use the pins from my place.”

Minho says casually.

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

“Perfect. Anything else?”

Jaehyun asks, a smile on his face.

“Working on it."

Jiho adds with a smirk in his voice.

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

"Right."

Minho agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

Despite the heat inside the building, she feels cold.

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

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

They’re here.

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

“Miss Kang."

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

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

“Enjoying the festival?”

“Not really our thing."

Minho says with a faint smirk.

“But you seem to be having fun.”

“You look... comfortable."

Jiho adds, his gaze flicking briefly to her dress.

“Same outfit as yesterday?”

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

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

“Looks good."

Jaehyun says, his tone low but clear.

“Better the second time.”

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

“You seem cold."

Hyunwoo says suddenly, his voice quiet but firm.

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

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

“There."

He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Better?”

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

“Thank you."

She says stiffly, her voice tight.

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

“See you around, Miss Kang."

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

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

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

They’re not just playing anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

At first, she’d felt relieved.

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

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

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

Why aren’t they looking at me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope you enjoy yourself during detention today.”

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

She knows who left this. She knows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How far will they take this?

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

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

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

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

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

What are you doing?

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

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

The note from earlier flashes in her mind:

“I hope you enjoy yourself during detention today.”

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

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

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

"This isn’t you."

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

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

But control is the last thing she feels right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking a deep breath, she begins to undress.

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

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

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

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

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

Is she really going to give herself to them?

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

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

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

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

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

For a moment, she doesn’t recognize herself.

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

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

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

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

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

Just like right now. One whole hour later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No talking, Hyunwoo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He motions towards his worksheet.

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

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

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

"What is your answer so far?"

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

Minho shows it to her.

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

"If you..."

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

"Miss Kang?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this about their speed?"

Minho still pretends like everything is normal.

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

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

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

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

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

No. Not here.

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

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

"Jesus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please..."

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

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

"Oh, my god!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love your cocks so much."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's get you up here."

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

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

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

"What about the vibrator?"

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

"Fuck the vibrator."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your tits look amazing right now."

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

"Shit, I'm gonna cum too."

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

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

"Fuck!"

He shouts as he finally cums inside Seulgi.

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

"So fucking wet."

He sighs, unable to keep quiet.

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

"Fuck, cuming!"

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

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

"Remember this?"

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

"Let's use this to keep count."

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

"One cream pie..."

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

"And one throat pie."

Seulgi feels the marker on her throat. Another mark.

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

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

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

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

"Fuck. This throat feels amazing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who wants to go first?"

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

"Me."

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

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

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

"That looks amazing."

That's Jaehyun.

"I can't just watch."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How is this gonna end?

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

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

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

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

Her voice sounds hoarse and rough.

All three of them ignore her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, fuck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't watch anymore."

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

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

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

"I want some of that pussy too."

Jiho walks up to the three of them.

"Wait, I-"

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

"Let's fill her up completely."

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

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

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

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

"No, wait."

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

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

She can't finish her sentence.

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

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

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

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

Eventually, the five of them do take Seulgi back to the classroom they had detention in. She can barely think on her own at this point. They have to tell her everything she has to do. After all of them use all her holes once again, they form a circle around her.

Jaehyun frees her of the jump rope. The red marks around her tits are clearly visible. Jiho puts the wooden clothespins back on her nipples, barely making Seulgi flinch. It's almost as if she's immune to anything but pleasure right now. And while she's just kneeling there, hands behind her back, she tries to rub her thighs together, hoping to not fall from this never ending high. Her tongue is hanging out of her mouth as if she is a dog in heat. Jaehyun somehow connects both ends of the jump rope with both clothespins.

"Open wide."

Seulgi obeys, opening her mouth fully. Jaehyun putts the middle of the jump in her mouth an she instinctively closes it again.

"Fuck, she looks like one of these Japanese porn stars right now."

Seulgi has to hold back the urge to lean towards one of the cocks pointing at her. She needs to feel them inside of her again. But the boys have other plans. Jiho and Seungmin snap a couple of pictures. And afterwards all five of them jerk off to the mess they've created.

Seulgi is kneeling on the floor. Naked, clothespins pinching her nipples, which are connected by a rope, that she's holding up with her teeth. Her whole body is covered in her own slick, her sweat, her saliva and the boy's cum. Her hair is a mess too, her eyes are red after getting hit by so much of her own saliva and cum. And even now, cum is leaking out of her ass and pussy. The tally marks on her throat are barely visible anymore. A number between 10 and 15. In contrast to that, her right thigh is completely covered. The number is bigger than the one on her throat.

The pure sight of their ruined Biology teacher eventually makes the boys cum one after another. First, it's Seungmin and Minho. Seungmin is standing on her right, his load hitting her cheek and her nose. Minho, right next to him, hits Seulgi directly in the eye, making it even worse. The other three cum soon after in quick succession. Jiho completely covers her left cheek. Hyunwoo paints her forehead and her hair from behind. And fianlly Jaehyun gives Seulgi's entire face on more layer of cum.

"I'm so fucked."

He groans, still finding it difficult to belive that they pulled all of this off.

"Same time next week?"

Jiho jokes, but he is visibly completely drained as well.

Man, I-"

Minho gets interrupted by the door being thrown open. All of them freeze. Seulgi's brain recovers in an instant and she's almost back to normal in a second. Who wouldn't turn sober, when one of the sudent's, who just used your body for hours without a break, mother stands in the door. Seulgi is very aware of the fact she is complete mess, kneeling inside a crcle of five of her students.

"Miss, Bae..."

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

Hi, everyone!

Please enjoy this nice Seulgi story. I apologize for the delay, but writing 19.6k words within a week isn't as easy as it sounds. I'm sure there is even more potential there, maybe even a full second chapter. I won't promise anything, but I did enjoy writing this a lot.

Stay healthy, everyone!

[extinctlesspains]

𝐒𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐫: 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐞-𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 ✧･

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐞-𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐞-𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬.

　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

The rules of the games were clear: trust no one, form alliances only if necessary, and never show weakness. Sae-Byeok lived by those principles, but there was one complication she hadn’t accounted for—you.

From the moment she noticed you, something shifted. It wasn’t love at first sight or some fairytale nonsense, but a quiet realization that she found you… distracting. You had a way of carrying yourself, a confidence and calm that stood out in the chaos of the game.

And it wasn’t just your demeanor. You were beautiful, in a way that tugged at her focus. She hated it.

But even more frustrating? You knew. Every time she tried to get close, you seemed to read her like an open book. And instead of playing along, you made her work for it.

It started during one of the few quiet moments in the dormitory. Most of the players were either asleep or murmuring in hushed tones, strategizing or trying to make sense of their situation. Sae-Byeok saw you sitting against the wall, your arms draped lazily over your knees as you stared at the floor.

She didn’t think twice before sitting down beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost touched. You didn’t acknowledge her at first, but she wasn’t deterred.

“You’ve been keeping to yourself,” she said, her voice low.

You turned your head slightly, offering her a faint smile. “Not much worth saying.”

Her lips twitched in a smirk. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Plan for what?”

“For staying alive,” she said bluntly.

You shrugged, your eyes glinting with amusement. “Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to impress me enough to team up.”

It was a challenge, and she knew it. She leaned in just slightly, her voice dipping into a playful, almost seductive tone. “You don’t seem easy to impress.”

“I’m not,” you replied smoothly, meeting her gaze.

Sae-Byeok’s smirk widened. She liked a challenge.

Over the next few games, Sae-Byeok’s interest in you only grew. She’d catch herself glancing your way during tense moments, like the tug-of-war game where you held your ground with surprising strength.

Between games, she made more attempts to talk to you, to draw you out of your shell. She wasn’t subtle about her attraction, either—leaning closer than necessary, finding excuses to brush against you, her compliments laced with an undeniable flirtation.

But you remained frustratingly nonchalant.

One night, as the dorm quieted, she sat beside you again, her tone casual but her intentions clear. “You know, I don’t trust anyone here.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. “Not even me?”

“Especially not you,” she replied, a hint of teasing in her voice.

You chuckled softly, and she found herself staring at the curve of your lips. “Smart move,” you said. “I could be dangerous.”

“You don’t scare me,” Sae-Byeok shot back, leaning closer. Her voice softened, growing almost intimate. “In fact, I think you like the attention.”

You met her gaze, holding it for a long moment before shrugging. “Maybe. But you’re going to have to try harder.”

The opportunity to push things further came late one night. After the lights went out, you slipped away to the bathroom for a moment of solitude. Sae-Byeok noticed and followed, her steps quiet as she slipped inside behind you.

You turned, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re not sneaking off to do something stupid,” she said, though her tone lacked any real conviction.

“Right,” you said, crossing your arms. “And this has nothing to do with you wanting to corner me alone?”

She smirked, leaning against the wall. “Maybe it does.”

Her boldness caught you off guard, but you didn’t back down. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. Her eyes traced over your face, lingering on your lips. “I know what I want.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, your voice softening despite yourself.

“You,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But you already knew that.”

The tension in the room was almost suffocating. Sae-Byeok was close now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her body. She reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm.

For a moment, you considered pushing her away, keeping up the game. But the way she looked at you—intense, vulnerable, and so full of want—made you falter.

“Sae-Byeok,” you murmured, and before you could overthink it, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to hers.

She responded instantly, her hands gripping your waist as if afraid you’d change your mind. The kiss was slow at first, a testing of boundaries, but it quickly deepened, all the tension from the past few days spilling over.

When you finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“You win,” you whispered, and she let out a soft laugh, her lips brushing yours again.

“I always do,” she teased, her voice full of satisfaction.

[codeonedigest]

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[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

DC Taglist

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My inbox is open! Stop by to request something or just to say hi!

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[yoursweetwife]

warnings: gn reader, mention of thighs, reader wears a nightie

"Unbelievable, these idiots couldn't even score half the points, they're hopeless."

Ratio complained non-stop about his students while lying on your lap. You nodded to all his statements, occasionally interrupting him to ask a question. Sometimes you had to ask him to get up so that you wouldn’t completely lose feeling in your legs.

You have been in this position ever since Ratio returned from work and, without saying a word, led you into the room, where he plopped down on your lap, hiding his face in the soft leather, and muttered something, angrily squeezing the flesh of your thighs.

You immediately realized that this day did not bring anything good. And the best way to help was to listen to everything that had accumulated during the day.

Your hands played with his dark locks, twisting and straightening them, massaging the throbbing whiskey, to ease the headache. Each such movement caused a satisfied hum, forcing him to stop the endless stream of words for a moment.

And you were glad that he trusted you enough to show his vulnerable side. He went from being a ruthless and principled professor to being your grumpy Veritas who might forget to eat unless you remind him.

Veritas opened his eyes, not realizing that he had been keeping them closed all this time. A soft smile formed on his lips, a rare sight that made you want to cover his entire face with kisses.

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled gently, urging him to continue talking, but instead Veritas brought his hand to your face and gently ran his fingers along your cheek.

A laugh escaped your lips as his fingers moved lower, tickling the most sensitive spot on your neck.

"I see you're much better now. How about dinner?"

You said cheerfully, watching him contemplate the proposal while playing with the hem of your nightie.

Ratio raised his head, allowing you to straighten your stiff legs, and turned on his side. You realized that he was not going to leave so easily.

"I'd rather stay in this position."

You leaned back into the soft pillows with an incredulous groan, ignoring the chuckle from Veritas who was amused by your dramatic attitude.

He closed his eyes, but this time instead of words, you only heard even breathing.

Your hand found its way to his hair again and began to massage his scalp, admiring the peaceful expression on his face.

At least his happy face is a worthy reward for the pain in legs.

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

[cosmicpuzzle]

4th Lord in Houses

1st House

You enjoyed nurturing in youth and consequently you are close to your mother. Being in good touch with your emotional mind you are true to your feelings and values. With this disposition in life you will gain happiness, particularly in the form of comfort, property and wealth.

2nd House

Having a secure family life and financial status gives you more comfort than many others. Therefore, for the purpose of comfort and security, you will tend to accumulate considerable wealth. Your mind is cunning and practical. Your mother will have good financial opportunities in life.

3rd House

You will only acquire comfort and security through your own courage and assertion. The need you have for stability and comfort is the motivation for the initiative necessary for accomplishment. Although you may have lacked comforts from your mother, you will acquire security with you own skills and abilities.

4th House

You are comfortable and content and well aware of your emotional needs. There is a strong need of emotional intimacy and close friendships. You tend to be very personal and loyal to your friends. Property of land or real estate will come easily to you, and you will enjoy comforts all your life.

5th House

You seek fulfillment and comfort in a lively interaction with knowledge. Moral values and spiritual principles, which you may have gotten from your mother, play an important part of your life. You are happy and likable and financial resources will always be available to you.

6th House

You may find it problematic to settle into a comforting and secure lifestyle. In your efforts to do so you may encounter all kinds of obstacles and irritants, which are only resolved over a lapse of time. Due to this, however, you may develop your own independent problem-solving style of fulfilling your comforting needs. There is a possibility that your mother will suffer from a medical or mental complaint.

7th House

Your basic needs for nurturing and comforts are only fulfilled by close partnerships or marriage. Therefore, you will seek out a spouse who is strong and protective and can connect to you on an intimate emotional level. You will get a good education, although you may not get to display your knowledge.

8th House

You are likely to harbor a deep interest in occult or mysterious fields of knowledge. In a sense you may seek comfort by exploring and unveiling hidden mysteries. You may, however, find it hard to fulfill your basic needs for emotional comfort and security because of constant challenges and transformations in that arena. Your mother may have suffered in her life or the relationship between you was inadequate.

9th House

You may get fulfillment for your tender need for comfort by seeking out and assimilating knowledge, philosophical or religious, that expanded your horizon, and makes you feel at home where the knowledge was. Your mother was probably a spiritual person which gave you good moral values and a healthy outlook in life. Higher education is a very appropriate direction for you and your life will be characterized by fortune and happiness.

10th House

You may feel most at home in your work, which is very likely to be very successful and give you great social prestige and reputation. Political influence or governmental favors are few of the tools you utilize to step up to fame and power.

11th House

You seek your comforts in optimism and openness for new endeavors. Meeting and doing business with others will bring you contentment, and it's quite possible that you can open avenues of resources for yourself by supplying security and contentment to others, for example in the form of real estate. There is possibility that you harbor a fear, a secret ailment or disease.

12th House

Your best way of attaining happiness and inner contentment may be through selfless service to those who are in need. This is how you may find that making others happy gives you comfort and contentment. It might be difficult, however, for you to gain any substantial and lasting material comforts in life, but your afterlife might look better than others.

For Readings DM