#the question is also there but he's just hanging out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wooziorgans · 3 days

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Noan do you not feel anything for nerd!jihoon?!?!?? Do you not fantasize about him being a silent shy nerd until he have you in his room, on his bed, naked, screwing you, raw, filling you up with his load and still not pulling out, just staying in, connected and you wondering where's the nerdy boy.

Thee nerd in question btw (this guy in short hai is my so fqing favorite I can literally do ANYTHING for him 😭😭😭😭 please please please please jihoona)

shy nerd uji

oh lord. oh he’s such a hot loser i need him. god did i have thoughts abt this. also ur other ask is being combined w another ask for the ultimate sub uji story. yeah anyways.

shy nerd!jihoon who practically took you under his wing in your shared chemistry class freshman year. you were lab partners, and he seemed competent enough to help you out personally with the labs, though you asked him for his number after the first class because he was too shy.

jihoon, who only wears tight fitting clothes on lab days because his regular baggy shirts and sweatpants are a safety hazard. you can’t help but stare at his muscles before he puts on his lab coat. his face burns as he slips his goggles on over his glasses.

jihoon, who helps you out with all the calculations for the remainder of the semester, even after you get the hang of it. who panics when you spill sulphuric acid on yourself, even though it has a low molarity so it won’t burn you.

jihoon, who you end up becoming pretty good friends with, even though you only see him once a week in your lab section. he always answers your questions about chemistry, even if you have different professors.

he slowly opens up to you, and you find out in your last study session that he’s actually a music major. you beg him to show you some of his songs, and he agrees, red in the face. on the condition you do well on your chem final.

jihoon, who you managed to keep seeing and hanging out with, even if you no longer share a class together. three years later, at the start of your final year of university, you can mutually say that you’re each others best friends.

shy nerd!jihoon, who isn’t as shy as he used to be, but he gets red in the face whenever you tease him. he still has his walls up around you, certain ones that he doesn’t seem to have with the rest of your friend group.

you can’t deny your attraction to him. his glasses, which he always pushes up as he studies, contrast so starkly with his pale skin. his bulging muscles which radiate heat as autumn starts to roll in.

jihoon cut his hair at the start of the semester, and you thought you’d be more upset with the change, but you can’t argue with the fact that he looks hot as fuck with shorter hair. you’ve seen him grow into a young man over the last few years, and his haircut suits him.

jihoon, who also didn’t go home for the holidays, and so you both spend your week together, catching up on homework and studying. you also spend your break with a multi-day movie marathon in his apartment.

jihoon and his apartment, which you’ve practically been living in for the last few days. your overnight bag sits in the corner of his living room, dirty clothes folded nicely on top of it. your toothbrush sits next to his, and it has him thinking hard about your friendship.

he can’t deny the fact that he thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. he can’t deny how domestic your whole week is going to be, can’t deny how much his chest flutters when you insist on cuddling while you watch movies. he can’t deny the obvious pull towards you, one he can only hope is mutual.

jihoon, who lets you throw your leg over his as you cuddle, his face burning at the outward affection. your breath comes out in small puffs, fist tightening in his shirt as you slowly start to fall asleep with your head on his chest.

jihoon, who wraps his arm around you, hand resting on your thigh. you crane your neck up softly to look at him; his glasses are slipping down his face as he tries to pay attention to the movie. he looks beautiful like this, and you decide to try and play off touching him as a mindless, half asleep action.

your fingers release his shirt, which had pulled up, exposing the base of his stomach to the cool air of his room. you carefully, oh so slowly, trail your fingers down to the skin. you push your hand back up, nails scratching gently against his abs.

jihoon grips your thigh softly, lips parting as his other hand grabs your hand to stop you. his cock twitches softly in his sweats, and you can feel it against the inside of your thigh. “y/n,” he pants, as though he had just run a mile in record time. you flatten your hand against his stomach, pinky brushing against the band of his sweats.

“want you.” you murmur, closing your eyes as you just feel his skin. jihoon gives your thigh another squeeze before his hand falls to your ass. you shift up on his chest, leaning up to kiss his neck softly.

in one quick moment, jihoon flips you over, off of him and onto your back. you squeak softly, all the air leaving your lungs as he straddles your thighs. before you get the chance to say anything, jihoon’s lips are on yours as he starts to kiss you stupid.

you start to pant into his mouth, completely in awe at how good he is at kissing. you had assumed he was a little bit more of a loser with very little experience, but judging by the way he’s kissing you, he clearly knows what he’s doing.

jihoon pushes your shirt up, hand holding your side as his thumb brushes over your nipple. it’s hardly a graze, but it has your back arching off the bed as he pulls away. he smirks at you, hands leaving your body as he pulls his shirt off in one motion. you gasp at the sight of just how ripped he is. jihoon shakes his head as he pushes his glasses up, a sadistic puff of a laugh escaping his lips.

“what, baby? you know i work out.” he whispers, and the pet name he uses has you reeling, back arching back off the bed.

“you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” you gasp, hands pulling at your shirt until you finally get the damn thing off. jihoon just chuckles at how desperate and cute you look right now. he doesn’t wait for you to settle back on w your shirt is off. instead, he gets straight to work, pulling your own sweatpants down. his fingers catch your underwear on the way down, and he decides to just get everything over with at once.

the cool air hits your burning core as jihoon spreads your thighs apart. he settles on his knees as he leans down, pressing soft kisses at the base of your stomach. he trails down further and further, licking at biting at you skin, covering you in light marks that slowly start to darken. finally, his chin brushes against the hood of your clit, and your hands snap to his hair, head falling back as your eyes close.

jihoon laughs again, almost cruel, as he places a kiss to your clit. his tongue darts out, pushing its way in between your folds to taste your arousal. he moans against you, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation. his fingers slowly start to find their way to your core.

he drags them over your entrance, not yet pushing them in as he goes back to focusing on your clit. you look down at him, opening your eyes to find him watching you intently. jihoon pushes two of his fingers into your entrance, and your tight walls suck him in almost instantly.

jihoon locates your spot almost instantly, milking it as he curls his fingers. his lips are suctioned against your clit, and you can’t take it anymore. with the way he’s looking at you, glasses slightly fogged from the heat between your legs and his breath against you, you cum hard around his fingers.

jihoon lets you ride out your orgasm, and once your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you can feel him smirk against you as he pulls his fingers out of you. “good. i wanted to make you cum at least once before i fucked you.” he shifts on his knees, pulling away from your core as his hand finds the knot of his sweats.

he pulls the bow free, slipping them down to his knees before he kicks them off. jihoon’s hard cock slaps his stomach and you lose your breath once again. his cock is big, veiny and so hard. small beads of precum leak from his tip, and he wraps his pretty hand around the head of his cock, coating it in his arousal as he strokes himself languidly.

“you still want this?” he asks as he leans over you. your hands find the side of his face as you nod. “good. been thinking about this for so long, baby. you have no idea.” he breathes out as he lines himself up, tip slipping through your folds.

he pushes in, and slides home in one motion. your walls spasm around him at the stretch. it burns, based on the sheer size of his cock, but you’re so wet it’s hardly a real issue. jihoon gives you a few moments to breathe as he peppers your face with chaste kisses, before he pulls back out, only to slam back in.

the pace he sets is brutal, hard and fast, and you know you won’t last long like this. you guess this is payback for the years of teasing and sexual comments made towards him, just to see him blush and get shy. jihoon pushes his tongue into your mouth, chasing your moans with his mouth.

your nails scratch at his back, crescent indents left behind over the muscles of his shoulders. he hisses at the sting and grips the flesh of your thigh harshly as he jackhammers into you.

it’s so dirty, messy; the slick sounds of jihoon moving inside of you, the repetitive slap of skin on skin, completely filthy as he fucks you like his life depends on it. the way he pushes his glasses back up his face makes your eyes roll back.

jihoon was always so soft and sweet, a naturally kind and gentle person, so to say that you’re losing your mind right now as he fucks you into oblivion would be an understatement. you can’t think, can’t even really make coherent noises as he fucks you. he shifts your hips up, tip of his cock kissing your spot, and it’s over for you.

you cum, the sheer force of your orgasm knocks the sound from your throat. you feel like you’re about to black out; a hot, white wave of pleasure so intense that your senses numb for a moment as you tighten impossibly around jihoon.

you’re so tight and warm and wet, it only takes a few more thrusts for jihoon to spill his load inside of you. he bites his lip as he cums, head thrown back as his own orgasm washes over him.

jihoon collapses on top of you, cock still sheathed in your warm walls. his hands find your hair and waist. his touch is so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how he was moments ago, that it pulls you back down to earth. you have had the mind to tell him to pull out, but the feeling of still being full, albeit incredibly sensitive, is so nice that you don’t say anything.

“fuck.” you pant, a soft laugh falling from your lips. jihoon rolls you over onto your sides, hand cradling your head to his chest.

“you okay?” he asks quietly.

“yeah. so good. i’m so good right now, you have no idea.” you laugh again, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“i hope that wasn’t too much, baby.” you can feel him smile against your hair.

“it was perfect, hoonie. i just- shit, where’d the shy nerd go? what happened to you?” you ask breathlessly. jihoon laughs quietly, pulling your head back from his skin gently so he can kiss you.

this kiss is so soft and delicate, like he’s afraid of shattering the moment you’re having right now. “dead and gone, baby. no more of that, now that i know you want me just as bad.” he whispers against your lips.

“good. i like being close to you like this.” you smile softly, pecking him once more.

“let’s get you cleaned up. i went kind of rough on you.” jihoon smiles back, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“oh, fuckin’ tell me about it.” you giggle, brushing the hair out of his face.

“karmic retribution, baby. you can’t tease me for three years and think that your actions won’t have consequences.” jihoon laughs as he pulls his softening cock out of you. he hisses softly as he watches his cum slip out of you.

“remind me to keep teasing you if it means you’ll fuck me like that again.” you clench, trying to keep jihoon’s load inside.

“i’d rather you just tell me next time.” he whispers lowly into your ear. you wonder briefly if this new development is for the better, with the way his tone has you throbbing again. jihoon slides off the bed, away from you and you whine at the loss of his warmth.

jihoon throws his head back in a hearty laugh as he leans back over you to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

shy nerd! jihoon, who is all but dead and gone as he runs you a warm bath to soothe your aching muscles. he kisses you sweetly as he sets you down on the counter, massages your thighs and scalp in the warm water.

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woozyvee · 3 days

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hidden touch, secret message

seungmin x female reader

wc: ~2000

content: established relationship au, smut

synopsis: there's a telltale sign for when your boyfriend is horny.

an: just a result of my mushy hard thoughts about this guy because i've got a crush on him. a late happy birthday to seungminie!

It's when he touches your wrist that you know.

Seungmin isn't exactly opposed to a little bit of PDA, letting you squeeze his hand or even discreetly kiss his cheek in the presence of others without much fuss. But he's never the one who initiates it.

Well. Except for under some very specific circumstances.

The light touch almost tickles at first and you have to look down to realize that it's your boyfriend who's causing the sensation. You look up at his face with a questioning arch in your brows as his fingertips softly trace the inside of your wrist. But he's not looking at you, focusing on Chan where he's talking across the table, like the rest of his members. Or, pretending to focus, maybe.

Nobody notices the physical contact, as it's hidden beneath the dining table and perhaps that is why Seungmin's caresses become a bit firmer. Seeing as he still isn't looking at you, you also turn away from him to pretend as if nothing is happening, nodding along to whatever Chan is saying even though you've lost track by now.

Laughter breaks out around the table at a comment Jisung makes, mixing with the surrounding bustle of the restaurant and you instinctively join in, doing your best to ignore the shivers that run up your spine as Seungmin's nails drag along your skin. You half-expect his touch to disappear as he's suddenly addressed but it doesn't and by the time he's finished talking, his hand as fully wrapped around your wrist to hold it.

When his thumb starts rubbing against you in gentle circles, you chance another glance his way but are left hanging yet again. You're not sure why he chooses to ignore you. Because you know that he knows that you know what this means.

So your other hand comes over to grab his hand, stopping its movements. It works, as he finally meets your searching gaze. When you raise a quizzical brow at him he simply slides his hand off your wrist, letting it settle on your thigh instead, where he squeezes the clothed flesh softly. He then throws you a quick wink before turning away again.

But he can't hold back the small smile that grows across his lips and therefore, neither can you. Something excited swirls around in your belly, mixing nicely with the feeling of a full stomach after a delicious meal.

With every sip of beer, the anticipation in your abdomen grows in size. With every shift of Seungmin's hand, that same anticipation travels lower.

The only one who you think notices how Seungmin's hand stays hidden under the table for the rest of the evening, is Felix. Because he sends you this suspiciously happy grin which makes you wonder if he also knows what these secret touches mean. You're blushing from that point onward, Seungmin's hand steadfast in stroking your thigh. Either he doesn't notice that you've been caught or he doesn't care; with Seungmin, the latter is more plausible.

Whether Felix knows what this evening has in store for you or not, he's no longer in your thoughts by the time you and Seungmin enter your dim, compact apartment.

"Hey, you shouldn't touch me like that when we're with your members," you scold as you step out of your shoes.

"Why?" he asks plainly, shrugging off his jacket.

"It's mean," you sulk, half-heartedly.

"How so? You like it, don't you?" The look he gives you is knowing.

Your pout turns into a glare. "Exactly! It makes me horny."

"Well, then you're meaner. Because you do nothing and still make me horny."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way his blunt admission makes you feel. "That doesn't make me meaner, if I'm not consciously doing anything. I can't control that."

"You could make an effort to look uglier."

He meets your squinted eyes with a mischievous grin. "You want me too look uglier, do you?"

"Not really. I don't mind that you're mean," he takes a step toward you and you squeeze the material of your long sleeves. "I don't mind that just looking at you makes me horny."

You raise an eyebrow as he comes closer, his touch hovering over your hips.

"And you," he emphasizes, tilting his head down to look at you from under his lashes, "don't mind when I let you know that I'm horny."

A shiver washes over you as Seungmin's fingers move under your shirt, slightly cold against the skin of your waist where they splay themselves out.

"Do you?" The question sounds more like a statement.

You inhale and exhale slowly, letting him guide you to lean against the wall behind you. He presses his front snugly into yours, the grip over your skin squeezing a little bit harder. By the way his thumbs all but dig into you, you can tell that he's still needy, despite the composed expression on his face. The tip of his nose barely brushes yours.

He raises his pretty eyebrows in question, apparently waiting for an answer.

A sigh. "No, I don't mind."

Your boyfriend smiles before he leans down to kiss you, pouty lips soft over yours.

It doesn't take long for your tongues to slip into each other's mouths, Seungmin's hands sliding up and down your skin with an occasional touch over your covered nipples. You exchange air with your heavy breaths, his hips sometimes jerking forward against his will to let you know how hard he's getting within his jeans. Your hands grab at his shirt, the back of his neck, anything to ground you as you nearly drown in the taste of him.

Seungmin pulls away to look down, lips swollen and breathing labored. His hands leave your skin to unbutton and unzip your pants and you press kisses along his jaw to occupy yourself.

You try not to flinch too hard when one of his hands slips into your panties and slides over your wet folds, whimper caught somewhere in the back of your throat. Seungmin sighs and presses himself harder against you, sandwiching you between himself and the wall.

"Were you already this wet back at the restaurant?"

You swallow. "Coulda put your hand down my pants and found out."

He chuckles but it's breathy, hot against your neck. "So you're just playing hard to get, huh? You scold me but really, you're a bigger perv than I am."

"Is that news to you?" Your voice is strained as he coats his fingers in your slick.

"Hm," he hums, burying his face in your neck to place kisses there. "Guess not."

The plush pads of Seungmin's fore- and middle finger draw delicate circles against your clit and your legs shake for a moment, choked sounds slipping past your lips as you muffle your voice with your tongue. He nips at the crook of your neck with his teeth before softly kissing it better. Both your hands are harshly grasping at strands of his hair, only faltering slightly as his middle finger moves down to dip inside you. You try not to moan but fail, whining into Seungmin's shoulder a bit high-pitched and shaky.

"Fuck," Seungmin sighs, his bite a little harder over your pulse and causing your brows to deeply furrow. He slowly pulls his finger in and out of you, drawing more and more warmth to pool between your legs.

He lifts his hand that's resting on your hip to grasp one of your elbows, dragging his palm along your forearm until it reaches your hand where he grasps it in his, pressing it against the wall next to your head. You no longer try to swallow your moans, letting them fall freely from your parted, glistening lips, into Seungmin's neck. He pulls out of you to focus on your clit again, knowing exactly how to caress it to make you buck your hips.

Your boyfriend turns his head, pecks your cheek. "Does it feel good, pretty?"

"Yes," you sigh, louder than you mean to.

Seungmin kisses your jaw, fingers reaching down to collect more of your arousal before coming back up. You're really sensitive now, squirming with his movements against you.

Before you know it, you feel your release building itself up, something warm and tight twisting in your abdomen. Your mewls become deeper, heavier as you curl into Seungmin's body, rocking your hips in time with his fingers.

He lifts his head to watch you, breath ticklish against your nose.

"Getting close?"

You can only nod, voice too busy whimpering to answer. Your fingers curl and flex under Seungmin's hold where he's pressing your hand into the wall, the feeling of being restrained shooting electricity straight down to your crotch.

"Hm. Should I stop?"

Your eyes shoot open, your view of Seungmin's face blurry from the close proximity. "What- no!" You furiously shake your head.

"Oh? But I thought you like it when I'm mean to you," he reminds you and grips your trapped hand a little harder.

Despite what he's saying, his fingers don't let up and you moan louder, head falling back against the wall with a thud. "Fuck, yeah, I do-"

Seungmin snickers but you cannot find it in yourself to care, cheeks burning as you draw closer to the edge and your free hand grasps his hair roughly. He rolls his hips into yours, a tight groan barely sounding from his throat.

"Since you like it so much" —Seungmin stutters over a grunt— "I can be meaner. I can leave you hanging right now and go jerk myself off in the bathroom."

"No no-"

"No?"

"No please-" Your voice breaks as your hips grind into his touch.

"Oh," Seungmin sighs into your ear. "So you like it when I'm a little nice too."

"Yeah-"

"Okay then." Seungmin kisses your earlobe. "I'll play nice tonight. Mostly because I like when you're already fucked out once I put my cock in you."

Your squirming gets stiffer, involuntarily fighting against Seungmin's hold on you as he works you toward your release. He bites your ear and you almost choke on your own spit, abs curling tightly in your stomach.

"Oh fuck fuck please-"

"Mhm," Seungmin hums, hot breath fanning the inside of your ear. "Let go, pretty. I'll help you through it."

You do and he does.

Strong, tingling waves of raw pleasure contract through your body, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as you writhe helplessly between your boyfriend and the wall he's pressing you into. He holds you as you squirm through your high, fingers gentle over your clit and kisses soft against your cheekbone.

"There you go," Seungmin exhales, digging his hard length into your hipbone through your clothes.

Only when you whine and flinch away from his touch does he let up, pulling out of your underwear to hold your waist with both his hands. He takes half a step away from you, only so he can get a good look at your slightly dazed and flushed face.

He's grinning, ear to ear, absolutely beaming from where he's staring down at you.

You huff, relying on the wall and Seungmin's hold to keep you from swaying. "What?"

"Nothing."

You scoff but can't help the curl at the corners of your lips. "Right."

He leans down and kisses you through his smile, tender and heartfelt. Until his movements turn just a bit rough. He pulls away, voice strained.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to stand here and keep making out but I really need to fuck you right now and I'm not doing it against this wall."

You giggle airily as he seizes the same wrist he was touching under the restaurant's table and drags you toward your bedroom.

This is why every time Seungmin initiates PDA, you know you are in for a good time.

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deliciousangelfestival · 20 hours

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The Imperfect Couple - 10

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Feeling the tension rise, Greg nervously tried to leave, but you stepped in. “Don’t!”

“Yes…?” Greg’s voice wavered.

“Don’t tell them I’m pregnant. Because I’m not. I can’t lie about that.” You rubbed your temples, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in on you, even though it was still early in the morning.

You shot a glance at Greg. “Schedule a press conference. Both of us will speak.”

Greg nodded rapidly. “Yes. Yes, that’s great.” He scurried out of the apartment without a second thought.

Bucky muttered under his breath, “I paid millions for this campaign team, and this is what I get.”

You snapped back at him. “No! Don’t change the subject!” Your voice was sharp, frustration burning in your eyes. “All of this is your idea.”

Bucky didn’t flinch, his calm demeanor frustrating you further. “My idea, yes. But it’s your choice now,” he replied, as if everything was calculated in his favor.

“Me? Lying about being pregnant? Have some humility, Bucky!” You threw your hands up in disbelief.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, calculating smile. “I’m proud of you for making that decision,” he said smoothly, as if this was some twisted game he’d already won. His calmness was unnerving, like he already knew the outcome.

You sighed deeply, your breath heavy with exasperation. Bucky casually walked over to the coffee machine and offered you a cup. You took it, reluctant but exhausted. When you sipped, the familiar taste made you pause. It was perfect—exactly how you liked it. He still remembered.

But even the perfect coffee couldn’t wash away the bitterness and exhaustion hanging over you like a dark cloud.

You set the cup down and looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “What’s the deal you made with Steve?” The question hung in the air, sharp and deliberate, like a card you were waiting to play.

Bucky leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “The deal?” He sipped his own coffee, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—calculation, maybe? “Let’s just say... Steve’s skeletons are a lot messier than mine. I was always just the distraction.”

There was something chilling in the way he spoke, like he was always one step ahead. You realized then—you were in deeper than you thought.

Bucky took a slow sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. His gaze stayed sharp, his voice deliberate. “The reason he chose me is simple. I’m the gatekeeper. Let’s be real, picking me as the youngest candidate? That’s a huge risk.”

The opponent was formidable—strong, relentless, and hungry for any opportunity to exploit weakness. So, what other option was there?

Bucky was the safest choice, not just because of his background, but because he held Steve’s deepest secrets—truths that couldn’t be silenced with money or threats. Bucky came from wealth, from power, from a lineage that made him untouchable. Steve knew that. He also knew something else: Bucky’s weakness was you.

Despite the disagreements within the party, Steve silenced the dissenters. He’d calculated every move. Choosing Bucky was risky, but Steve needed someone he could control, someone who could take the fall if necessary.

Bucky knew why he was chosen. He understood the game—Steve, the elder statesman, needed a younger face to shield him from the inevitable attacks. Bucky was to be his defense, the gatekeeper, the distraction.

The rumors about you and Bucky were intentional, designed to take the heat off Steve. Let the world believe Bucky was struggling in his personal life. Let them focus on his public spectacle while Steve worked in the shadows, untouchable.

Edgar and Brock—the opponents—would see the headlines and think Steve had been weakened by Bucky’s scandal. But they were wrong. This was the plan all along.

Bucky would take the blame. He would absorb the media’s attention, while Steve quietly solidified his path to the presidency.

For Bucky, it was more than a political maneuver. Accepting Steve's offer wasn’t just about power—it was his chance to break free from the chains his mother had shackled him with. And it was his chance to get you back.

He knew Steve had calculated his every move, and yet, Bucky had his own agenda. In the end, he wasn’t just a pawn in Steve’s game; he was playing his own, too.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “This is why I never wanted to cover elections. Everything is rigged.”

Bucky chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. “That’s politics for you, sweetheart. It’s not about being clean—it’s about playing the game better than everyone else.”

You shifted, suddenly feeling the urge to get answers. “What about Steve’s skeletons?” you asked, your voice edged with curiosity.

Bucky had just picked up a chocolate muffin, but he stopped mid-bite. Setting it down, he met your gaze, dead serious. “I’m the only one who knows,” he said quietly. “I can’t tell you. I’ll carry those secrets to my grave.”

His loyalty to Steve was unsettling, a bond you could see ran deep.

“And don’t even think about digging for information,” Bucky warned, his voice firm, eyes hardening. “You’ll put both of us in danger if you try.”

The finality in his tone hit you like a wall. He was serious, and it was clear that stepping into that territory wasn’t just risky—it was deadly.

“Bucky,” you said softly, your voice filled with exhaustion.

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up from his phone, his attention split.

“If I can’t do this anymore... I want to leave.”

The silence that followed was thick. Bucky didn’t respond immediately, didn’t even look up at you. Instead, he remained still, his fingers lightly tapping against his phone. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and measured. “Get ready for the press.”

You sighed heavily, frustration and defeat settling into your chest like a heavy weight. Leave? Could you even escape at this point?

The thought circled in your mind, but Bucky had already made it clear—he wasn’t letting you go that easily. His control, his manipulation—it had all tightened around you like a noose.

And despite everything, despite the lies, the secrets, the betrayal... you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t plan to lose you again.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Soon, you stood next to him in front of a swarm of cameras, bright lights burning into your skin.

Bucky adjusted his suit jacket, offering a polite smile to the flashing lights. He stepped up to the podium, and as soon as he began speaking, it was as if a switch had flipped. The man beside you was no longer just your husband—he had become the perfect politician.

“I want to thank you all for coming here today,” Bucky began, his voice smooth, confident. His gaze swept across the audience, calculated and calm. “Marriage is never easy. It's a journey filled with highs and lows, and like any relationship, it can face... turmoil.”

The word hung in the air, a subtle indication of the cracks beneath the surface.

“Over the last few years, my wife and I have faced our share of challenges. We chose to take separate paths for a time, not because the love was lost, but because we believed it was what we needed. We both needed space to grow as individuals,” he said, pausing to glance at you.

You stood there, silent, watching him weave this narrative so effortlessly. Seeing him like this—so fluent, so convincing—it was almost sickening. He was lying, and yet every word that came from his mouth seemed to be wrapped in a veneer of truth.

“But sometimes,” he continued, “fate brings people back together. We crossed paths again, and in doing so, we rekindled that old romance we once shared. This has not been an easy journey, but we both realized that our love—despite everything—was worth fighting for.”

You forced yourself to stay composed, even as your mind raced. How had he become this person? So skilled in deception, so willing to put on a performance for the world. This wasn’t the man you had married.

This was a man molded by ambition, by politics. He had learned to manipulate truth, to twist it to his advantage. And now, he was using that skill to reshape the story of your marriage.

He went on, his tone softening just enough to appeal to the emotions of the audience. “I know many young couples out there experience similar struggles—times when things seem too difficult to overcome. But I stand here today to tell you that it’s possible. Love is complicated, but it’s also worth the fight.”

The live chat on the screen buzzed with comments, many of them expressing support, calling your relationship ‘inspiring,’ applauding your ‘courage.’ They were buying it. Every single word.

Bucky turned to you, offering a practiced smile. To them, it was a look of adoration. To you, it was a silent warning. Stay in line. Play your part.

As Bucky wrapped up his speech, the room filled with the sound of reporters typing, cameras flashing, and the quiet hum of people whispering. His words had been perfectly delivered—calm, composed, and persuasive. But it was the next moment that truly sealed the deal.

He turned toward you, and for a brief second, his eyes met yours. You could see the flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or exhaustion. But before you could fully process it, he stepped closer. The cameras zoomed in, the world seemed to hold its breath, and Bucky pulled you into a tight embrace.

His hands rested on your waist, steady, as though he were trying to ground himself. You stiffened at first, the tension between you impossible to ignore, but the weight of the press watching forced you to respond. Slowly, you lifted your arms and hugged him back, trying to make it look as natural as possible.

Then, without warning, his lips brushed against yours. A kiss, soft but purposeful, meant to sell the image of a couple rekindling their love. The cameras went wild, and you could feel every flash burning the moment into eternity. But beneath the act, you could sense the hollowness of it all.

"Still think we’re good at pretending?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bucky’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Maybe it’s not all pretending."

You stayed locked in his arms for a moment longer, both of you playing your roles. To everyone watching, you were the perfect couple, finding your way back to each other. But to you, it felt like a performance—one more layer of the deception you both had to endure.

And yet, for all the pretending, there was an undeniable truth beneath it. The way Bucky held you tighter, as if he needed that connection to steady himself, made it clear. He wasn’t just showing the world something—they both needed this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once the press conference ended, you felt drained—emotionally and physically. As you walked off the stage, Bucky’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.

“Steve,” he greeted, his voice low. You stood beside him, listening quietly.

“Didn’t expect it to go this well,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line. “Good job. I was hoping you could drag this out for a few more days, though.”

Bucky leaned against the table, his tone casual but firm. “I couldn’t do that. My wife’s already pissed about this. I’m not pushing her any further.” His eyes flicked to you as he spoke, his face unreadable.

There was a pause on the other end. Then Steve’s voice came again, smoother this time. “Still, you handled it well. Let’s hope the media stays focused on you two and not... anything else.”

Bucky smirked, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “They will. This whole mess? It’s just a distraction, Steve. You know that.”

Steve chuckled lightly. “I’m counting on it.”

Bucky ended the call without another word, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He turned to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “See? Everything’s under control.” He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm, but you pulled away.

Control. That’s what it was always about with him. And for now, he had it. But for how long?

You noticed something you hadn’t before—Bucky’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense, and his grip on the phone was tighter than usual. His usual confident façade seemed to falter, even if just for a moment. He looked... uneasy.

You had never seen him like this, not even during the press conference. Something about that call with Steve had rattled him. The way his eyes darkened, how his fingers twitched slightly as if restraining himself from saying more—it was a side of him you rarely witnessed.

And in that fleeting moment, you understood. It wasn’t just you who felt trapped in this web of lies and manipulation. It was Bucky, too. For all his calm demeanor, all his calculated moves, he was just as cornered.

He wasn’t in control like he wanted you to believe.

For the first time, you realized that Bucky wasn’t just pulling the strings—he was tangled in them. Just as trapped as you, if not more so. The weight of Steve’s power over him, the pressure of the campaign, the expectations, the secrets—it was all bearing down on him, too.

And in a strange, twisted way, it made him seem... vulnerable.

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siddyyyyyyyy · 19 hours

Note

Obsessed with your blog! Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where it’s reader’s birthday and Jason doesn’t know until someone calls her saying happy birthday

Late Birthday

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 0.7 K summary: Jason tries his best to be romantic warnings: fluff a/n: this is such a nice request but i couldn't really come up with anything bombastically nice😭😭 i hope this is still cute and nice and thank you for the request!!!!!!!

The day hadn‘t been too exciting or eventful, it was actually like every other day. Once Jason got home, he did his usual routine of slipping into comfortable clothes and join you in your warm bed. It had been as usual, being snuggled up on top of you, head resting on your chest while listening to your steady heartbeat.

He almost fell asleep on you before your phone suddenly buzzed alive, feeling the subtle movements of you reaching and answer the call. You put it on speaker without any other thoughts, getting spooked again as a loud voice chimes through.

»Good evening! It‘s one in the morning and your birthday, so I— «

You quickly put the call back on quiet, putting your phone against your ear as you listen to your best friend ramble off her birthday wishes to you. Jason only processes the words seconds later, lifting his head off your chest to watch you intently.

He doesn‘t take his eyes off of you, even after you hang up the call after saying some thanks to your best friend. You carefully put your phone back away, meeting his eyes again. Finally, he speaks up.

»It‘s your birthday?«

He sounds betrayed. Actually, even hurt at this point. It makes you feel guilty, rubbing his back lightly in attempt to keep him calm… or rather yourself.

You nod lightly in response, still afraid of his reaction. In all honesty, you even forgot it‘s your birthday in the first place and didn‘t plan on telling him either way. It didn‘t make sense to you, celebrating some day felt wasteful.

He sighs out softly and shifts off of you, pressing a small kiss against your forehead before getting off the bed completely.

»Wait, where are you going?«

You sit up, confused and getting a little nervous about his sudden action. Is he really this disappointed?

»Just remembered I have some business left to do. I‘ll be back in a sec.«

Jason answers back casually, flashing you a soft smile as he puts his jeans back on and leaves your room. You are left alone for now, laying back and decide to wait patiently and not worry about it.

As you‘re distracting yourself with your phone for a few minutes, you finally hear the keys jingle at the front door, slipping out of your bed to see Jason again. He appears inside, his back still to you while he takes his shoes off. Without wasting another second, he turns around and reveals the colourful boquet of flowers in his hand. A smaller plushie in his other hand, a charming grin written all over his face.

»Happy birthday.«

He huffs out with a small shrug, making you melt on spot. That sweet gesture is enough to make you fall for him even harder and make you overwhelmed with feelings. The next thing Jason sees is your flustered smile, then you rosy cheeks, and how you hug him tightly. He hugs you back as best as possible, hands still full with the boquet and plushie.

Of course, the flowers aren‘t world class or expensive, but flowers are still flowers. He probably sprinted to the closest gas station and searched for the sweetest thing he could think of, without being overbearing.

He didn‘t ask any questions on why you didn‘t tell him beforehand, considering he also has his reasons on keeping his birthday as secret as possible. The night ends up with you two drinking some wine together with a shitty movie on the TV, snuggled up under a blanket on the couch. The flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, actually paying more attention to them than the movie.

It feels like the best birthday you‘ve ever had. Being together with Jason with some wine and cosy movie night is probably the best way to spend the night. The way his hand traces slow circles around your back, how soothing his breath feels against the top of your head. How domestic this feels like. Jason can‘t stop thinking about you during this moment. He isn‘t used to things feeling so domestic and loving, but he finds himself wishing this night won‘t end.

a/n: sorry for making this short, but i do have some things going on rn..... i'm starting to believe the fanfiction writers curse is real. hope you enjoyed it, the next few fics are going to be longer and more intersting! promise!!

←MASTERLIST

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minkieater · 1 day

Text

carousel – choi san ☄. *. ⋆

p. choi san x fem!reader g. non idol au, college boy!san w. smut minors dni PLS, alcohol consumption, smut is kinda kinky, toxic relationship, uhh san rocks you suck an. hello please don't be mad at me this had to happen for the lore, i also had to name you, apologies, if you share a name with shawty then congrats! if you've read luck you'll see some familiar stuff here, feel free to let me know anything you pick up on heheheh but seriously pls don't be mad at me wc. 10.7k

♫ – tear you apart, she wants revenge “it's only just a crush, it'll go away, it's just like all the others it'll go away or maybe this is danger and he just don't know”

cycle (sī-kel) noun a course or series of events or operations that recur regularly and usually lead back to the starting point

choi san regularly bounced between two moods.

the first being a state of contentment, the second being complete and utter destruction. when he was content, the two of you were usually on good terms, and he felt good enough that he could keep his life on track. he could get his work done, he could go to classes, he could socialize with his peers with a smile on his face.

when that peace was disturbed, more often than not by you, he was an absolute train wreck. all he could think about was you you you and when the two of you would fix things, if the two of you were really done this time, if he could reconcile the situation. sitting in class, remembering choreography at practice, being behind the bar at work… he couldn’t do a damn thing right. it wouldn’t be surprising if he forgot his own name when you were on bad terms.

san has never been a fighter. when arguments arise he’s usually never the one that starts them, he’s the one begging to end them, opting for a peaceful compromise instead. despite the way he looks, san is a softie, something that took you by surprise and kept you by his side for almost a year.

you know him. you know his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite album, his parents’ names, where he grew up, why he’s in school, who’s putting him through school, his biggest fear, his dream in life. you see how he looks at you, how he drops everything for you in a second, how he talks about you when you aren’t around to defend yourself. you know him better than you know yourself sometimes — you’ve been two peas in a pod since the beginning of your sophomore year, but yet the same question remains. one he’s asked you hundreds of times, one you could never find an answer to without breaking his heart.

so instead you pick fights, argue to your heart’s content, damn near terrorize him on the regular just for the same fact to be true: choi san also knows everything about you.

he knows exactly why you aren’t together, why you beat around the bush every time he asks you that same question, the sole reason why you freak the fuck out every time he asks you to give him just a little bit more. choi san knows very well that his love is unrequited, and he understands even the things you won’t tell him. he knows who you really love, he knows you’ve loved him since the summer before your freshman year, when you met at that concert. he notices when your eyes are the brightest, who you’re looking at when he wished you were looking at him, when you laugh the loudest. he notices everything.

if he’s anything, it’s observant. he’s been hanging out with you and your friends since way before he was your little secret, he’s been on your friends’ rooftop for parties more times than he can count. the first time the two of you slept together he couldn’t believe it was actually happening, the second you looked at him with lowered eyes and glossy lips he thought his eyes had been deceiving him for months prior. you looked at him like he was your last meal, your prey that you caught with your bare hands, you needed to have him or you’d die of starvation. he let you take the reins, took it all in with open arms, he wasn’t going to question a thing. for how long you had been obsessed with chan, he’d been obsessed with you.

you’d met early in your freshman year, when chan had first gotten his apartment shared with three others, when they first started throwing their legendary parties that had been the talk of campus for ages to follow. san had gotten the invite through wooyoung, his best friend, whose close friend has dated chan’s roommate since freshman year. the moment he first saw you was nothing short of a movie scene, you were on the dance floor, definitely one too many drinks deep. you were dancing with felix, holding his hand, twirling your hair as he spun you in a circle. your smile, your eyes that were shut so delicately, your body that moved with such a fluidity, you were the embodiment of freedom. you looked like you couldn’t care less about anything, like the moon went down and the sun came up just so you could breathe another day. the world revolved around you. it was like everything he had ever done in his life leading up to this moment, each decision he made was to get him on this rooftop at this moment in the middle of soho.

san had a few drinks himself and found himself on the dance floor right beside you. minho was with him, a close friend from his dance class, and then felix beside you. he couldn’t help but steal you for himself. he brought out the dancer inside of him but still followed your lead, spun you himself just as felix had, let your backside dance across his front one too many times for comfort. you picked up on how he was holding back, letting himself match you instead of taking the lead, and you couldn’t ignore how it sparked your interest. anyone besides felix that wasn’t in your group of close friends would be mindlessly grinding against you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk, but not him.

for a moment you let yourself think the bar is deep in hell, then you introduced yourself (more like screamed your name at him) over the pounding music that could be heard two blocks down. the first thing you noticed were his broad shoulders before you took in the rest of his clearly strong build. complex, fox-like eyes that held too much power in them and a sweet smile that contrasted his hard demeanor, it all vexed you, but intrigued you so much more.

out of everything, his hands give you the most whiplash. where they were long and limber they felt soft and warm, even the calluses on his palms somehow felt softer than every man you’ve ever come in contact with. compared to his chest which felt hard and strong, the contradicting features forced your mind straight in the gutter. there’s no doubt he’s beautiful, anyone could see that from first glance, but in that deep, hypnotizing voice he has, you could hear what kept itself hidden. it was a facade, that build and sexy voice, you could tell just from a few words that he’s not what he appears to be.

at first glance you’d assume he was just like any typical guy, buff and egotistical and harsh. but looking for a moment in those eyes, listening to that soft voice, you could hear what he wasn’t saying, like his thoughts were being displayed for you on a silver platter. they enticed you to dig deeper, peel him open layer by layer, find out what no one else knows. beyond warm hands and a sturdy build, there was a softness to him that wasn’t inside of any other man on that rooftop. except one other.

by the end of the night, minho had led san to the notorious smoking corner, where he’d come to learn the same people tend to gather and hangout towards the end of the night. thankfully, one of those people was you, and the rest of your little group of friends that he’d later come more than acquainted with. none of you really smoke, which was the weird part, the smokers would come and go around your seating area, but it was still named the smoking corner despite it.

“you said your name was san, right?” you asked, an inviting smile on your face as he sat down right next to you on one of the cushioned chairs. it happened to be the only one open and had him thanking a god he didn’t believe in for the small favor.

he nodded quickly, tight lipped smile on his face, dimples on display. even with the liquor he was nervous, he wasn’t one to spark up conversation, especially at a party like this. “you’re a dancer?”

“how’d you know?” your smile somehow got bigger, eyes widening with surprise, “i’ve danced my whole life.”

he shrugs, “one dancer to another.”

“you go to NYU?” you asked, turning your body to face him in your own chair.

“dance program, i’m in the same hip hop class as minho,” he pointed to minho who was standing somewhere to the side of the two of you.

“ah,” you nod with a smile, “that makes sense, i’m in the theater program, i originally wanted to be in the dance program, though.”

“hey guys,” the two of you looked up at the same time, another pair of broad shoulders, massive biceps, and a beautiful smile staring straight at you. you could feel your heart rate pick up, your breath get caught in your throat, a heat cascading over you like the rooftop had suddenly raised fifteen degrees.

san could feel his smile leave his face as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. the way your eyes lit up, the pink that raised to your cheeks, how you slightly stumbled over your words when you first spoke to him, he tried not to let his expression drop to a scowl. he knows you like him, maybe even love him, he couldn’t decide from the short interaction between the three of you. not that he wanted to know, anyways.

san decided then and there that chan was his enemy, a one sided war he was willing to put up the good fight for. from a quick dance and a conversation, he had decided you were worth the fight, you were worth the long game, you were worth whatever it took to get you. he thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to win you over, with some effort and consistency, he should be the one you look at the way he desperately wants you to in no time. he knew he was good looking, he sees how women fawn over him left and right at parties, only sometimes letting them get any further then silly attempts to take him home. that ping of jealousy only jumpstarts his motivation, begs him to tap into whatever is making these women throw themselves at him.

five parties and three months later, you made him feel like he was in the lead. small conversations here and there, longer dances that with each party turned more and more scandalous, once or twice you clearly felt him behind you on the dance floor and you didn’t pull away, you kept going until you made it so evident he couldn’t hide it in his jeans. moments of hands brushing and stolen glances across the smoking corner, he waited long enough, but he’d wait however long it took for you.

the night when you gave him that look that he knew meant you were taking him home, he couldn’t contain his excitement, he couldn’t hide anything from you already. you could see it all over his face, he could tell from the smirk you wore on your own lips and the cocky laugh you let out. you were playing with fire, and his specialty was water.

you knew he wanted you from the first time you met. whether he knew it about himself or not, despite his easygoing words and soft hands, you knew there was a side to him you desperately needed to unveil, you needed to experience, you needed to know like the back of your hand. it felt like tainting his innocence the more you got to know him, his personality reflected the opposite of what he portrayed on the outside. from that hard, chiseled look he has to the soft, tender persona, you wanted to tear him apart. you wanted to know what made him tick, what pissed him off, what got under his skin, how he acted when it did.

you had him exactly where you wanted him, and he was letting it happen, fully aware of the attraction that was finally being returned. you looked at him differently that night, and unbeknownst to him, it was deliberate.

chan was out of sight, off with some dark haired girl he met hours prior. you watched the scene unfold in front of you, from when they exchanged names and phone numbers down to the moment when chan took her hand and led her inside his apartment. you watched them over heads through the dance floor, keeping your vision focused on the two of them like some fucked up form of tunnel vision. like what they say about trainwrecks, you should look away, but for some reason you can’t. your skin was burning, you were beyond angry, feeling an emotion that laid somewhere outside of what you’d ever experienced toward him. betrayal? abandonment? treachery?

none of your feelings were valid, chan had no idea how you felt, you never told him. he was more than allowed to take whatever dark haired bitch he wanted into his own damn apartment that seungmin’s dad pays for, that’s more than permissible. you have an apartment too, one that you and your roommate pay for yourselves, one that you could also take someone back to. your life didn’t revolve around him, his actions would not determine how your night would go, despite the feelings you have for him.

that’s when choi san caught your eye, across the crowd with his gorgeous face and incredible body. you felt the light bulb flash above your head, you knew exactly what would take the edge off, what would mend the heart chan had just broken in two.

“you know, we always hangout here, but we never see each other outside of these parties,” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“never thought you wanted to,” he shrugs, lowered eyes watching your every move like he was waiting for the switch to flip.

“and why wouldn’t i want to? have you looked in a mirror recently?” it felt lame when it left your mouth, he didn’t seem to agree as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. he turned away from you, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

“every morning at the gym, gotta make sure my form is right,” his shy smile turned into a faint smirk, and your own grows, hints of mischief creeping at the corners. you knew exactly what he was doing, mentioning the gym. like a moth to a flame, your eyes glazed over his biceps, which he flexed the moment your eyes left his.

“every morning? very disciplined, aren’t you?” you ask, smile turning lopsided and nothing short of flirty.

“very,” he nodded his head, “you should come with me sometime, get you some discipline, too.”

“and what about me makes you think i’m not disciplined?” your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head.

with that question his smile grows, dimples showing themselves once more. “brats always need discipline, and that’s exactly what you are. a little tease.”

your smile displays all of your teeth, exactly the answer you were hoping for. the side you knew he had in him, that version of him not many get to see, excitement flooded through you like a tidal wave. you were on a power trip, your plan worked with ease, you wanted to pat yourself on the back.

“do something about it,” you sipped your drink through your tiny straw, staring at him through your lashes once again.

within thirty minutes you were back at your place in manhattan, your roommate still at the party, you didn’t even let her know you left. in that one conversation you’d forgotten all about chan, the girl with the dark hair, and why you were in this situation in the first place. all you could think about was san, with his dark chocolate eyes and honeyed skin and arms strong enough to flip you around. you were overflowing with adrenaline, excitement, and greed. you wanted all of him, needed all of him, a need that has been lying dormant for months. you’d been curious about him, wanted to know what he kept hidden inside, too focused on chan to dig deeper into him.

san couldn’t fucking believe it. couldn’t believe he was in your bed, your walls that were covered in posters of rock bands and singers from the 80s, some faces he’s seen before and plenty of others he hasn’t. records cover one wall, soundtracks from different musicals, little trinkets filling every inch of open space on your bookshelves. your room was so undeniably you, from the smell to the color scheme, he took every inch of it and burned it to memory. he tried not to stare too much in his learning, telling himself to focus on you instead, he’d he back, this isn’t a one time thing. he couldn’t be more right.

the moment his lips touched yours he couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without tasting you. a kiss so sweet, so rushed, so hungry, he’d never felt anything like it. he knew you'd wreck him, become too important to him, become a valued person in his life, for a moment he thought maybe he should stop – this was all too good to be true.

when you whimpered in his mouth after a light grind to his crotch, he took all of his thoughts back. there was no stopping this, no hands could pry him off of you, he needed to see every bit of you. he needed to kiss every inch of your skin, inhale the scent of your sweat, he yearned to worship you. he wanted all of you, he needed to rein himself in, not get too excited so he could last.

you fought for dominance on his lap, tongues in a rushed wrestle, strong thighs wrapped around his hips. as those soft hands of his squeezed the fat of your ass, you let out a yelp, grinding yourself into him. you wanted to hear any kind of noise, any harsh breath he might release. you wanted control, he didn’t want to give it up, at least not without a fight.

he scooped your waist with one arm, flipping you over, pressing you flat against the mattress. you mustered out a hushed fuck as the realization finally hit you: his biceps aren’t just for aesthetics, the sheer strength of one is enough to throw you around, and it’s strength he will use to his advantage.

“as much as i want to be thrown around,” you broke the kiss for a moment, “save it for the next time.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist and lunged yourself forward with your hands, hips on top of his once more, your bodies sitting upright. as much as you wanted to revel in the gain of dominance, you knew he just willingly allowed you to do that, he could’ve stopped you with ease if he wanted to.

“see what i mean? brat,” he broke the kiss again with a huff, a smirk painting his own lips for a moment before returning them to yours.

your right hand moved up to grip his throat, pushing him an inch away from you. on his lap you were taller, staring down at him, he looked up at you with a spark in his eyes you haven't seen yet. his eyebrows furrowed, not in confusion or hurt, but want. need. he liked this, he wanted this, and you couldn’t help the wicked smile that touched every feature on your face.

“watch your mouth,” you tilted your chin up, looking down at him at a harsher angle, the act itself a display of dominance. in combination with the harsh tone to your words, he nearly quivered in your grasp. a strangled groan left his lips as your grip tightened for a moment, blocking his airway, before releasing him completely. you reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head with ease.

“look at you, so fucking sexy,” you said as the cotton hit the floor, examining his exposed upper half in awe. chiseled abs, even sitting down, and a chest you’re sure could knock you out if it came in contact with your head. he was beautiful, perfect even, not an inch of him unsculpted.

his breath turned heavy under your stare, eyes lowering into a different version of himself, a submission of sorts. he had no fight left in them, he gave up control, let you take it, and you were going to run with it.

you brought your lips to his jaw, kissing down his neck, hands running over every inch of bare skin. he tugged at your top at the same time, tugging it over your head, unclasping your bra with just one hand.

“done that before?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a playful smile, and he chuckled.

“once or twice,” his reply was mindless as you fumbled with his belt buckle beneath you, slipping it out of the loops, throwing it to the floor.

“hungry?” you asked and his eyes quickly met yours, confusion crossing them before realization set in. you didn’t wait for an answer as you pushed him back on the bed with your index finger to his chest, not having to muster up any force at all.

you quickly sat up and slipped off your jeans and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him. he leaned up on his elbows for just a moment before you crawled back on top of him, further up his body until you sat right over his face.

“no touching unless i tell you to,” your voice was stern, he nodded in understanding and you took that as the green light to plant yourself on his awaiting face.

you moaned the moment his tongue came in contact with your soaked center, lapping up everything you had to offer. you stilled for a moment, letting him work himself on you, his tongue gliding through your wetness.

“fuck, sannie, so fucking good,” you moaned out, a hand reaching down to tug at his styled black hair. he groaned in response, hands lifting off of the bed, but they didn’t touch you, didn’t even come close.

you started riding his face and he stuck his tongue out in response to your movements, letting you have your way with him, grinding back and forth to use him for your own release. if you weren’t gone in your own pleasure you would’ve smiled at the eagerness, the willingness to please you.

“fingers, please baby,” you gasped out, babbling your words, “need you to make me cum. you wanna make me cum, don’t you? all over your face?”

his right hand came between your legs to slip two fingers inside of you, mouth moving up to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. he curved his fingers toward himself immediately, hitting that one spot inside of you that made you see stars, you started babbling and whining praise like you’d been doing this together for years.

“so fucking good sannie, fuck,” you cried out, grinding yourself against him, the knot in your stomach tightening with every harsh suck to your clit. he brought his other hand up to smack your ass and you moaned out, the dam bursting, your release coating his fingers, past his knuckles. you rode out your high, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to get you through it before overstimulation set in.

“mm, taste so fucking good baby, could eat you all night,” he announced the second you lifted yourself off of him, his voice octaves lower than earlier. you watched as he licked his lips so erotically, the action making you want to sit yourself back on his face and ride him until he couldn’t breathe.

you sat next to him on the bed after climbing off of him instead, your orgasm took the need for control right out of you, you had your fill. you wanted to be taken care of, filled up, you didn’t want to think about anything other than your own pleasure. always observant san picked up in your change of energy, letting his own switch to another before continuing.

“need to be inside you,” he said as he sat up, taking his jeans and boxers off in one go, “you have a condom?”

you shimmied yourself down the bed, head hitting the pillow before you shook it, “‘m on the pill.”

“dirty girl, where did that energy from earlier go? hm?” that dangerous smirk returned to his face, his dominance returning in just one sentence, “did i eat it all out of you? wanna be a good girl for me now?”

he leaned himself over you, strong arms beside your head caging you in. you lifted your knees up to your elbows, spreading yourself for him.

“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling the tinge of embarrassment, “fuck me already.”

“that wasn’t very polite, thought you were ready to behave,” he shook his head, “only girls with manners get fucked. should i put my pants back on, go back home?”

“no! no, don’t go,” your arms came up to grab onto his, your eyes widening, “i’m sorry, i’ll be good. please, san, i need you.”

a wicked smile crossed his face before he leaned down to plant a kiss on your own, “good, i hoped so. breathe for me, okay?”

you glanced down between your legs, realizing you hadn’t even seen him. you nearly gasped at the size of him, eyes widening, his length was perfect but the girth of him was more than intimidating. he spit into his hand, stroking himself, lubing himself up to slide into you easier. you nearly drooled at the sight, mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing.

the whole act felt so sinful, so carnal, you so easily opened up to him with a side of yourself you don’t show until you’re fully comfortable. you blame your adrenaline, your hormones, how horny you were when you arrived, ignoring the real fact of how comfortable he made you feel to show so much of yourself to him.

as he lined himself up you couldn’t ignore how it all felt right, you’ve had undeniable attraction to him for months now, but this… this was something entirely different. this was a beginning, the prologue chapter of a novel, the first episode to seasons spent with him. when he pushed himself into you and you had to physically remind yourself to breathe, you had to acknowledge that he fit so perfectly with you, his body felt like it was meant to be above yours. these weren’t feelings of a quick fuck, feelings from a one night stand, this was raw, intimate, unique. special.

“so fucking big,” you huffed out, voice strained, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing at his biceps.

“breathe, baby, you got it,” he praised you, encouraged you, and it did what it needed to. you breathed in and out, let him sheathe himself inside of you. as he bottomed out he groaned, a beautiful noise, one that could lure you to sleep if you heard it enough. he stayed there for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch, letting you relax around him.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby, breathe,” he instructed, leaning down on his elbows to kiss you, distract you, take your mind off of the stretch. you tried your best to relax your muscles, unclench yourself from around him.

“there you go,” his praises were a sweet song, easing you out of discomfort, “tell me when i can move.”

you waited a few moments, returning your lips to his before grinding yourself against him. you felt your slick coating him, helping you glide up and down, and he let you for a moment — just a moment before he knew for sure you were comfortable.

he pulled all the way out before bottoming out once more, and you yelped into his mouth, breaking the kiss to let your head lean back into the pillow.

“there it is, there we fucking go,” he mumbled as he started on a rhythm, “good fucking girl.”

a string of moans left your lips, your hands still clawing at his biceps, body reacting to him without your brain allowing it. “so fucking good sannie.”

“thought you were so fucking badass earlier, huh? ordering me around like i’m your bitch?” that smirk returned to his lips again and all you could do was moan, staring at him through half lidded eyes, “look at you now, baby. all lifeless and limp, all for this dick?”

“yes, san, all for you. just for you,” you mumble, words jumbling together, not knowing if your words even sounded clear.

“yeah, baby, just as i thought, all for me,” he pistols himself into you, grabbing your hips, making you meet his thrusts. you were losing your strength, letting him have his way with you, just an incoherent mess beneath him.

he reaches forward and grabs your jaw, “don’t go anywhere, eyes on me.”

you look up to him, eyes wide, that fuzzy space you were slipping into locked away for now, “you can go there eventually, not yet, not this time.”

your eyes started to roll back as he shifted his hips upward, the mushroom tip of him rolling against that one spot so deliciously. with how quickly that knot formed once more in your stomach, you were surprised that drool wasn’t slipping down your chin.

“right there, please don’t stop, gonna make me cum,” you can’t even hear yourself, so drunk on his dick, his assertiveness, you loved it. you’d never had your energy matched like this, never had a fuck like this, never had someone know you so quickly and easily.

“hold it,” he ordered, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. how could he expect you to hold it, when he was hitting that spot too perfectly, doing everything in his power to get you there?

“i swear, do not fucking cum,” he smacked your hip and tears formed in your eyes trying to hold it, fighting every nerve in your body to not release around him.

“i can’t! i can’t,” you babble, tears falling down your cheeks, and he released a long fuck, his voice dropping even lower.

“cum for me, want you to cum around me, please,” his orders turned to begs quickly after he saw your tears. he leaned forward to wipe them off your face, bringing his fingers up to his lips. the string snapped and you gushed around him, legs shaking, a loud cry leaving your lips, probably heard in queens from the sheer volume of it.

“where do you want me?” he quickly asked, his own words sounding shaky, slurring together.

“inside, inside,” you begged, reaching up to cup his cheeks. he leaned down to kiss you as he released himself inside you, filling you up, thrusts slowing as he worked himself through it.

he stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, heavy breaths being poured into each other’s mouths. he sighed as his forearms began to shake, finally pulling out of you, laying next to you.

“you okay?” he turned his head at the same time as you turned yours, eyes sharing too much of something yet saying nothing of it.

“‘m great, you?” you cracked a smile, the both of you still somewhere that wasn’t here, slowly coming back from two completely different headspaces. he nodded, returning the smile, and the two of you laid there for what felt like ages.

sleeping with san was something outside of anything you’ve ever done. you’d slept with plenty of people, had plenty of experiences, explored what you liked and didn’t through many trials and errors. to have such an incredible first experience with someone, to have it flow so easily, to match each other so perfectly… it was almost unbelievable, it set unrealistic expectations for anyone you’d ever sleep with again.

you needed him that night, needed that experience, needed whatever was going to distract you from whatever the hell chan was doing – and it worked. you needed that distraction for months to follow as chan continued to see the dark haired girl, who’s name you came to find out was eden, always hanging around on the rooftop, following him wherever he went. like a roach, never wanted, yet never went away.

months you spent cooped up in your room, anger flowing through your blood as you watched his instagram stories, cute pictures of her posted every day. posed pictures together in times square, clubs on the weekends, clips of them getting drinks together on a random weekday afternoon. you couldn’t help but pick everything apart – what they were doing was touristy, corny, nothing you would do with him, nothing you would enjoy. you knew chan didn’t enjoy any of that, either.

every time you pictured dates with him or fantasized about any time spent with him alone was always private, intimate, enriching – you’d be painting together, drinking wine in your living room as you played your favorite board game, watching a tv show from start to finish together. you were in the same major, maybe even studying together, bouncing ideas off of one another for assignments or projects, but nothing so flashy. chan hates time square, hates drinking in the middle of the day, and especially hates clubs unless there was a special occasion. you knew all of these things, you knew him, you felt the same way as him. yet he was still doing all of those things with her, playing in her garden, wasting his time when he should be focused on school, his career, his future, you.

in those months there was only one thing that could make you forget about chan, forget about eden, forget about the situation altogether. during class you were frustrated, in auditions, rehearsals, you couldn’t even study without the tv on and music playing simultaneously. if you had a singular moment of silence your brain took you back to him, took you back to what you could’ve had, what you never tried for in the first place. it was debilitating not being able to get anything done, being so one track minded, the only thing that could make you focus was san. you’d text him daily, always asking him to come over, always ending the night between his thighs.

he always came, he always said yes, he never once said no to you. he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make you explain your frustrations, only listened when you did speak about trivial things like school or rehearsal. you didn’t want his opinion, didn’t want his advice, only his company and the pleasure he never had any difficulty in giving you. it was perfect for those months, in your own world, the sanctuary you created in your bedroom with choi san.

the moment when your relationship changed, you didn’t notice. there was no light bulb, no moment where you consciously started looking at him differently, yet it changed without your knowing or consent. you didn’t acknowledge it when you did notice, you didn’t want to, your heart was saved for another. yet you still talked about everything together, did all of those little things you dreamed of doing with chan. your fears, your dreams, your childhood, your favorite things, you began to know him so intimately without being aware of it. you watched grey’s anatomy with him, you played video games, you drew funky little doodles of each other on your notebooks.

you started to crave him when he wasn’t around, and not just because he was your distraction, but a friend. he was good for you, he encouraged you to be consistent with school, you practiced lines with him, sang duets from different musicals with him. your relationship was raw, it was truth, it was naked, it was everything you wished for, it was everything you needed at that time.

san fell for you. he fell so fucking hard, so headfirst, it was a bottomless pit with no end in sight and he couldn’t stop himself from digging further. everything he saw in you that first night was still there, only amplified into something he couldn’t hide anymore. he was at your beck and call, anything you needed, any time of day. he knew why you were so attached to him, he figured it out the second he went to the rooftop with wooyoung again, high off of his night spent with you, ready to see you again. when you were nowhere to be seen and he caught chan with his arm around the girl from his contemporary class, he put the pieces together quick. he knew you must be heartbroken, knew you needed support, a friend who knew nothing about the situation. it quickly made him realize his place in your relationship.

he fought through the horrific realization with optimism, the returning thought that with time you’d see, you’d realize he was better for you than chan could ever be. as he spent more time with you and got to know you better, it only made his feelings deepen. your laugh, your thoughts, your competitive side, the way you’re so quick to fight back and assert your dominance, but give it up even faster… it was like an addiction, it wasn’t good for him, he knew it wasn’t, he knew it when his grades first started to slip. when he wasn’t on point at practice, too sleep deprived to remember choreography. minho read it all over him, knew something was wrong, knew san had gotten into something he shouldn’t have.

“what’s up with you, man? this isn’t like you,” it was a rough practice that day. san was sat on the floor with his knees hugged tight to his chest, rubbing his eyes to force the exhaustion out of them.

“just an off day,” is all san mumbled before he stood up slowly, grabbing his bag to sling over his shoulder.

“off day? you’ve been fucking up for the past week, san, you’re center,” minho put his hand on san’s shoulder, stopping him before he walked away, “they’re gonna put someone else there if you don’t get your shit together.”

“i get it, minho,” san turned his back, and minho’s grip only got tighter.

“what the hell is going on?” he asked, turning san to face him, “you can talk to me, we’re friends, you know.”

san’s hand returned to his face, trying to rub off his discomfort, this feeling that he should keep everything to himself, “it’s a lot.”

“is it a girl?” minho was quick with the question, eyes lowered, seeming to read san before he could get any words out. he started to walk, keeping his hand on san’s shoulder, encouraging him to walk alongside him.

san answered with a coy nod, the answer seeming too taboo to say out loud. minho was a direct link to chan, he should be happy to talk about the fact that you were sleeping together. what he couldn’t shake off was the fear that you’d be angry at him for telling anyone.

“did you get her pregnant or something?” humor was laced in minho’s tone, trying to ease up the straightforwardness of the question, but he was genuinely worried by how san had been acting.

san gasped, “preg- no! god, no,” he shook his head, “i hope not.”

minho laughed, “that doesn’t sound convincing. if she’s not pregnant then there’s no reason to be so torn up, why are you?”

they walked out of the building into the wet humidity of the city air, “like i said, it’s a lot. it’s my fault, though.”

“quit beating around the bush and tell me,” minho stood still, staring at san expectantly, “you can trust me.”

“if i’m going to tell you, i need a beer.”

an hour later they were seated at prince, not a popular dive bar in the city, but popular amongst your group of friends and whoever they introduced to it. san nursed his beer, barely getting two sips in before he was spilling everything about the last six months to one of his best friends.

“i can’t wrap my head around why you keep fucking her if she loves another guy,” minho shrugs, “especially chan, at that. she’s been close with him since he moved to the city.”

“it’s not about fucking her,” san sighed, “i’m in too deep, i think i love her. even if i didn’t, and it was just about sex, it’s too good to stop.”

minho’s jaw physically drops, mouth hanging agape for a moment before he snaps it shut, straightening his left hand to start counting on his fingers, “so you love her, she doesn't know you love her, she loves someone else who’s in a relationship, and you spend every free moment with her. and you have so much sex you don’t sleep.”

san’s lips pull into a tight line, giving minho one long nod in response.

“there’s no way she doesn’t love you back if you’ve spent that much time together in six months, i can’t believe you kept all of this shit hidden for so long. you need to talk shit out, man.”

it was music to his ears, san’s entire body filled with a joy he’d never felt before when no way she doesn’t love you back left minho’s lips. he felt like he was putting a puzzle together in his brain, that actually made perfect sense, how could you not return anything he felt for you? you also experienced all your time together, got just as close to him as he did you.

he barely gave minho another half hour before he was barreling out of prince and on his way to your apartment.

“hey baby, how was practi-”

“i need to ask you a question.”

your head whipped to your front door, never hearing san sound so desperate outside of the bedroom. his eyes were blown, his eyebrows raised, fully out of breath from running up the flights of steps to your apartment. your blood ran cold, you knew this question was coming eventually, you were savoring every moment he didn't ask it. you stood slowly, facing him from the couch, eyes expectant.

“i’ll give you an answer,” you replied casually, keeping your voice steady.

“do you want to be with me?” his words felt empty, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say them, yet he still sounded like he’d been dying to ask the question for months. he didn’t blink, kept his shoulders back, dance bag dangling from his fingertips.

“san,” you said calmly, taking a step towards him.

“i don’t want to freak you out, please don’t freak out, it’s just been six months and i really enjoy you and your company and i love being around you, i love spending nights with you, the sex is incredible, everything just seems right,” a smile graces his lips with a pause. when you stared back at him in disbelief he panicked, his heart in his throat, “i’m sorry if i freaked you out, this is too much, isn’t it?”

you took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment. the day you’d been dreading had come – the end of a perfect half year.

“i can’t be in a relationship right now,” you blurt the first thing that came to mind, and his face dropped immediately. “i enjoy you, i love our time spent together, i love that you’re around all the time, you’ve been a huge help to me these past six months. i couldn’t of done it without you.”

you’ve been told these words before, you’ve been in his position before, you’re spouting the same venom that’s been thrown at you. you felt as if you were shoved in a corner, not fully believing your own words, but you needed an excuse more than you wanted to say the truth.

a sad smile crosses his face, “i get it.”

“i don’t want to stop whatever this is,” you walk closer to him, grabbing his hand, “and it could grow into something really great. i’m just not in a position to open my heart to anyone right now.”

“i know, baby. the last six months have been rough on you,” his heart melted, even if he knew the reason why, he also knew that it really did hurt you. you needed time to heal, time to focus on yourself, time to get back into the dating scene. he’d be there, first in line when you were ready.

“i knew you’d understand, thank you,” you stood on your toes, attaching your lips to his. ten minutes later you were on your knees, right back to normal like that conversation didn’t even happen.

in just two weeks you’d started going out more regularly again, meeting your friends at prince, going to chan’s rooftop whenever felix told you to come. your friends that noticed, despite you keeping your appearances up, asked where you’d been, why you’re back, and you gave them the sophomore year bullshit of classes were hard and summer is here again! at your age, parties were a dime a dozen, you had plenty of excuses to be out of the house and away from your issues, stopping reality from hitting you that you were playing with fire once again.

you did have feelings for san, even if it was your own fucked up version. there was no way you couldn’t with how much time you spent together, how much you know about him, how much you care for him. but the other problem that you will never forget is still there, staring at you from across his own rooftop.

you care for san, but the love you feel for bang christopher chan is so much fucking more.

“hey! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!” his smile is huge as he crosses the crowd, clinking his drink with your own. you blushed, that was basically him saying i missed you.

“same here, how’s everything been? happy classes are over?” you asked, gripping your drink a little tighter.

“incredibly happy classes are over, even happier this terrible fucking year is over,” he chuckled, “me and eden broke up, i don’t know if you heard. she cheated on me with some columbia architect, whatever.”

broke up? he’s… single again?

your jaw dropped, and you fought to keep the excitement to a minimum, “no, i didn’t know, i’m so sorry, channie. fuck her and that architect!”

he laughed again, a belly laugh that made you want to jump his bones, “what about you, though? seeing anyone?”

his question took you by surprise, “i- uh, no, i’m not,” your giggle was nervous, wanting to change the subject immediately. san crossed your mind, a thought you quickly shut down.

“you’re never seeing anyone, dude, we have to set you up with somebody, can’t go through your whole college experience without a shitty boyfriend or two,” it was a joke, a bad one, but it still made heat rise to your whole upper half. why was he asking? he’s never asked about your love life before.

“i’m good off a shitty boyfriend, i’d rather be alone if that’s the case,” you shake your head, then sip through your tiny straw.

“suit yourself,” he palmed your shoulder with a hand that completely enveloped it, and you felt the skin underneath burn.

you felt eyes boring into your head from behind you, and you quickly turned, scanning the area. you saw your roommate and her boyfriend in the smoking corner, minho and han, then san, who was leaning against the concrete of the wall separating the rooftop from the drop to the ground below. like a hawk, he watched you through lowered eyes, taking in every move. you quickly turned back around, expecting chan to still be there, but he was gone, probably off being a good host to his party. you wiped the chill off of you, finishing off your drink, dismissing the guilty feeling creeping up your spine because chan is single again. determination washes over you, this time you’d be hell bent upon telling him how you feel, finally getting your chance to be with him. it was your turn this time.

san was beyond frustrated. watching you talk to chan after all of these months, even from afar, picking up your body language, he was sick to his stomach. the way you shifted from foot to foot, unconsciously leaned into his touch, flipped your hair behind your back to show off your décolletage, san could pick up on exactly what you were thinking and he hated it.

san wasn’t in the lead, he was forever the number two, your favorite best kept hidden secret. he was sick of it, sick of being with you behind closed doors, sick of dropping everything for you, sick of being under your spell. he knew his place, knew it enough to where he didn’t even approach you on the rooftop. he knew there would be a call, a text, a fucking messenger pigeon that would get him in your bed tonight, he was sure of it. when chan went back inside the apartment for the night and didn’t have a soul beside him, he knew exactly how the outcome of the night would go, and he was excited for it.

as san slammed your apartment door shut behind him, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, turning to furrow your eyebrows. the two of you ended up leaving together, an outcome that wasn’t on his list of possibilities – no messenger pigeon needed. he was surprised, he didn’t think you’d even want to be seen getting in the same car as him.

“what was that for?” the slam startled you, it was unlike him, he was delicate with everything he did.

“i’m sick of this, ri,” he shook his head, standing by the entrance to your kitchen, not following you into the living room. your stomach dropped, you should’ve seen this coming.

“what do you mean?” you opted for obliviousness after a pause, unsure of how to go about this conversation again after your last one was just two weeks ago.

“i’m sick of being your secret, whatever the hell i am to you,” he ran a hand through his hair, “actually, that’s a good question. what am i to you, riley?”

you gulped, your eyes widening, coming to yet another moment of silence. you didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to tell him what you didn’t know yourself.

“you don’t know? or you know and can’t say it?” he understands your silence, using his hands as he speaks, “tell me the truth.”

“i don’t know, san, a friend?” your voice is unsure, small. you wanted to shrink yourself, wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. this is the first time you’ve seen this side of him, you and san had never argued before, the last time you had this talk it didn’t have any anger or frustration.

“a friend? i’m a friend?” he laughs, a sarcastic chuckle that you’ve never heard leave his lips. you must’ve gotten away with it two weeks ago, this was really the end, there was only one way this talk could go. “a friend that knows every inch of you, a friend that’s spent more time here the past six months than the apartment they still pay rent at? that’s a fucking joke, riley.”

tears gathered in your eyes, ones that you weren’t exactly sure why they were there, you felt caught. bombarded with a choice you didn’t want to make. he was finally understanding your web of lies, finally over it, over you. you weren’t ready to let him go, you wanted to continue to live in your bubble with him, you wanted him to stay. you didn’t let them fall.

“what do you want me to say?” you don’t have a rebuttal, you don’t have any sly words that could change the topic, even momentarily change what he’s feeling. you chose anger, deflection.

“i want more, ri. i want you, i’ve wanted you since i met you. there’s no way you don’t know that,” he sighs, turning around, running that same hand through his hair.

“and i can’t give you more, san, so what do you want me to do? force myself into something i’m not ready for? i’ve told you my piece,” you walk towards him, standing just a few steps from him.

“no, riley, i don’t want you to force yourself into being with me, that’s ridiculous. when we’re in public you barely look at me, let alone speak to me. what are you so afraid of? why can’t anyone know about… this?” he turned around, his own eyes glossy, looking down at you through damp eyelashes. your blood ran cold, colder than it had been from the moment he slammed the door, that familiar guilty feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“why do you need people to know? why do you need our relationship to be publicized? is being with me, here like this, not enough for you?” the laugh you let out was dry, calculated, “if it’s not enough then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

a small gasp left his lips, barely audible it could’ve been just an intake of air, his visage twisted the moment you spoke those words. with his lips and eyebrows turned downward, that slight anger, frustration, morphed into a sadness you never wanted to see again.

“that’s not what i want,” his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it, a shy mumble, his gaze pointed downward at his fingers which played with his rings. “i don’t want to fight with you.”

“i know, baby,” you stepped forward, placing a hand on his soft, reddened cheek, “i don’t want to fight with you, either. want you to be happy.”

“i’m happy with you,” his voice cracked, a raw tone, as he glanced back up at you. his eyes red, glossed over, full of emotion, it broke your heart. you could never truly make him happy, you knew that, but you could momentarily.

“then let me take care of you,” and that you did, like you always did, the same way you did two weeks ago. you rode him to oblivion, until he forgot why he was upset in the first place, the same thing he did for you six months ago.

a week later, you’d fought again. plenty of times.

almost every day for the whole week you started an argument over something so fucking stupid and you couldn’t stop. everything he did pissed you off, every time he tried to fix it, it pissed you off even more. you were overflowing with so many different emotions you couldn’t breathe, you needed space, you needed him, you needed chan. you were too overstimulated to think clearly, if you were ever thinking clearly to begin with.

the guilt from not returning his feelings, but not being at ease when he isn’t sleeping in your bed.. it didn’t make any sense. you felt insane, suffocated in the overwhelming feelings you couldn’t bring yourself to return. you liked san, you liked everything about him, but the fervent feelings he had towards you mirrored what you felt for chan.

there was now nothing left unsaid. there was no unspoken deal between you anymore, no weapon left to use to let yourself get off without consequence. you were uncomfortable, uncomfortable with his feelings, uncomfortable with your own, you felt shoved in a corner you couldn’t walk away from.

the only things that stayed consistent in that week were chan’s rooftop, chan’s living room, and his incessant need to talk to you every damn time you were there.

san felt like he was losing his goddamn mind.

he wished he could go back in time and take back everything he said, his confession, his feelings, he had ruined everything. you would go from not answering him to getting pissed off that he answered your text with ok instead of okay… it seemed like he couldn’t do anything right, in a constant state of fear that today would be the day you break it off with him for real.

his day to day life was only getting worse. he was making cocktails wrong at work, not replacing ice, handing the wrong beer to patrons at the bar. he got replaced again in his spot for his dance class, reprimanded by his teacher, minho gave him not one but two additional talks about getting his shit together.

he hadn’t seen you since the night you argued two weeks ago, he hasn’t even been going out for just a glimpse of you, he’s been playing catch up for what felt like weeks. to make matters worse, he was pent up, he’d been so used to a consistent sex life, he needed release. he needed a night to let go of you, all of the whiplash he’d endured for weeks now, he needed a night to just be himself. to forget.

he called wooyoung, his best friend who was always out in the city, always had plans. thankfully he was going to a club that night to celebrate your roommate’s recent internship acceptance. wooyoung assured him that you wouldn’t be there, it would only be a couple of your roommates' close friends. he didn’t ask why you wouldn’t be there, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, he needed to start forgetting now.

he hopped out of bed and got ready fast, the clock already past eight, and headed over to meet the group before going to the club. they were all familiar faces from the rooftop, despite him only knowing wooyoung super intimately. all of the nights he spent at your apartment your roommate was usually at her boyfriend’s, and if she wasn’t, her and her boyfriend were cooped up in her bedroom.

but here he was, in a club he’s never heard of in the middle of manhattan celebrating her.

“have a drink, sannie, do something,” wooyoung slung his arm around san’s shoulder, bent behind the booth he was sitting at, “don’t just sit there and mope.”

san nodded, not having much to say if it didn’t have to do with you. he sipped his beer mindlessly, listening to everyone talking around him, their conversation had to be more entertaining then the jail he created for himself in his own mind.

“...i’ve been trying to get them together for years! i’m so happy it’s finally happening!” your roommate says loud, drunkenly, talking to yunho’s girlfriend.

“years?” yunho’s girlfriend asked, brushing her hair behind her ear, “why the hell did it take so long?”

“when they met they were all just good friends, then i was introduced and started dating jeongin pretty much immediately, i’m the one who noticed how she felt about him. she wouldn’t admit it for ages, until i finally got it out of her, and pretty much immediately after that chan started dating eden, you remember her, right?” san’s ears perked up at that, his stomach dropping immediately. he put the pieces together quicker than ki could run her mouth. the drinks from the pregame clearly made her filter pretty much nonexistent, this is a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be listening to, something he wasn’t supposed to hear. she didn’t notice the extra ear, but her boyfriend did.

“ki,” jeongin interrupted, eyes glancing back and forth between san and his girlfriend, talking over yunho’s girlfriend.

ki ignored him, too deep in her own conversation, “yes! like two weeks ago or something it finally clicked, they’ve been seeing each other since.”

“who?” san interrupted, panic in his voice.

he knew who, from the bottom of his heart. a little over two weeks ago was when san started the fight between the two of you, ever since then you’d been off. he hasn’t seen you. he knows damn well who.

ki’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape, and jeongin’s hand went to his forehead.

“san, i-”

“who are you talking about, ki?” san sat a little straighter, his chin jutting out, “who’s been seeing chan for the past two weeks?”

“i think you already know who, san, i didn’t realize you didn’t know?” ki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her hand holding her drink a little bit tighter. yunho’s girlfriend looked between san and ki, also confused, too nervous to ask any questions. the tension was thick in the air, too heavy for a night of celebration. san could feel the control he had over himself lessening by the second.

san laughs, a dark chuckle, and something inside of him shifts. he’s done, he’s so fucking done. he feels stupid, it’s always been chan from the start, it’s always going to be chan. he tried telling himself months ago that you would see he was better for you than chan ever could be, but he was clearly so fucking wrong. chan would always be your endgame, it would never be him, no matter what he did for you. no matter how much he tried for you. no matter how much he begged for you.

everything he’s been feeling for the past two weeks, the confusing feelings, the constant begging just to see you, the amount of apologies he’d given to someone who didn’t fucking deserve them. how many times had you texted him when you were next to chan? how many times had you ignored him because you were next to chan?

san doesn’t get angry, san isn’t a fighter. san’s always been a peacekeeper, a problem solver, water to put out the fire.

he is so fucking over it.

he thought about his grades, how long it’d taken him to bring them back up. his rehearsals, his performances, the center positions that had been taken away from him. how many bottles of beer he’d thrown away at work from constant fuck ups. how many times he’s gotten grilled from more people than he can count on his hands.

he ignored ki, instead he looked into the crowd, suddenly remembering exactly where he was. he reached forward and grabbed one of the bottles yunho bought and took a long swig from it. he looked out in the crowd again and spotted a pretty little blonde thing almost immediately, and took a moment to reflect.

he remembered his life before you, before chan, before that fucking rooftop. how women fawned over him, flocked to him, how obsessed they were. how he didn’t have to try for anything or anyone. he passed the bottle to wooyoung behind him who was so taken aback he hadn’t said a word.

“san, we can leave, we can go, it’s okay,” wooyoung said, bent over once more, taking the bottle from san’s hand, “we don’t have to stay here, let’s go.”

“if you’re not going to drink that then give it back,” his reply is so curt it sliced through the air like the knife ki just put through his chest, “we are not leaving.”

wooyoung took a swig of the bottle, a proud smirk growing on his face, “finally, man. let’s be done with it already.”

2:27 am ri: u up? ri: i miss you

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atiny #ateez fic #choi san #san ateez #ateez san #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san ateez #choi san smut #san x you #san x y/n #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #choi san x female reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 15 hours

Note

In that case… Could I please request Killer Croc/Waylon Jones with a supringly really attractive boyfriend (like a male version Jessica Rabbit level hot, like it dosen’t even make sense for someone to be that hot) who no one understand how Waylon pulled. Waylon’s boyfriend is very sultry and alluring.

And Waylon roughly breeds his boyfriend doggy style 😇.

Thank u :)

Waylon Jones x Male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend squad, how is everyone doing? Classes are still running at a max level, and I’m starting to think this is just how it goes. So, time to chillax with some Waylon.

Not as smutty as I would have wanted, but this honestly just built a life of its own and started running.

We see in the comics, or at least in one run, that Waylon does have game and knows how to pull somebody very attractive, so its not too surprising so could pull you. That’s what you think at least, since he’s a great guy, to you.

I imagine you two met after he left the circus, maybe you guys even left together. With Waylon being the circus’s “freakshow” and you only being there as eye candy to sell tickets. With you both being reduced to nothing but your looks, you two find solidarity with each other, and fall in love.

No one ever really took your love seriously back then, just thinking you were using Waylon for protection, since someone as pretty as you couldn’t be safe anywhere.

Insert the “seriously, what do you see in that guy?” “he makes me laugh” scene.

If we go with the verse where Waylon was in Halys circus, then the only ones that seemed to have some version of acceptance of your love was the Grayson’s. it was one of the reasons you two left the circus, having a strong feeling of what had truly happened to them and who caused it.

After leaving the circus, you couldn’t live in the sewers like Waylon. This meant you got an apartment, in the beginning in crime alley since it was cheapest.

You may have been so beautiful it would drive people mad, but you also had a head on your shoulders. So, in the end you set up a legitimate business, maybe you even become something akin to a designer. Mainly because your lover is so big, there’s no other way to get him clothes.

And maybe during your time in crime alley, you stumble upon a scrawny kid who, though he may act tough, still has a light in him. And maybe that kid ends up being batman’s second robin, who remembers how kind you were to him and everyone around you, so he doesn’t go as hard against Waylon.

The past you have with the Grayson’s also means that Dick takes it easier on Waylon, and they even settle down and talk at times. You’ll regularly find the two former robins hanging around your art studio, even years later when they aren’t robin anymore.

Your lover goes to Arkham, a lot. But you never hate him or even argue with him. You’ll just pull up to Arkham in your most beautiful outfit during visitors’ hours and hold Waylon’s hand as you two act like a new married couple, even if it’s been twenty at this point.

And it may have been twenty years, but you just seem to have become more handsome with age, aging like fine expensive wine. You don’t become shrewd or corrupted by the world around you, instead you stay kind and patient. You’re still in Gotham though, so you’ll turn violent if you have too.

No one really believes that Waylon purrs, until you show up and he becomes as meek as a kitten, ready to roll in your manicured hand.

Its no secret that you, one of the most famous designers around, and Killer Croc, are together. But its just such a normal part of everyday life now, that no one really questions it. your works never been dirty, you help those around you, and lift up poor and struggling artists whenever you can. So, what if your husband is tearing up the road trying to bite Batman to bits.

Theres a viral video in Gotham of you stepping out during one of Waylon’s rampages, and just scolding him, wagging a finger in his face and still looking so unbelievably gorgeous as you do so.

And yes, of course your design trademark is crocodile scales, or anything along those lines. You’ll never use real crocodile skin, but you do use the print or shape.

After all this time, people don’t fear Waylon as much as they probably should, all thanks to you. Its kinda hard to fear a guy when you know his boyfriend is unofficially titled the most beautiful man in Gotham, who’s also as giving and kind as the Waynes, whilst being more involved in the nitty gritty, since you still live in Crime Alley.

Someone has threatened Waylon with telling on him to you at least once too, which doesn’t stop him, but it does cause him to freeze and get an “oh shit” expression, long enough for people to run to safety.

Being one of the most skilled fashionistas around also means you have met the Waynes on multiple occasions.

The shared past with Dick and the circus, and Jason, though you don’t remember him as vividly, means you get called on more than most.

As you measure them out and start making designs, conversations flow, and Damian most likely ends up bluntly just asking you why in the world you decided to pair up with Killer Croc of all people.

You correct him in your answer, referring to your husband as Waylon, and then you just start waxing the poetics. Of your shared past, of the deep unshakable love you both share, and how under all his struggles, Waylon truly is an amazing man.

You’ve never confirmed that Dick was Robin, even though it was very obvious. Its not your place to judge how he, or his family, deal with their trauma or whatever they have going on. Your lover swims through the sewers, you can’t really say anything.

A few passing comments are made though, obviously. You tell the Waynes to “take it easy next time they see Waylon, wont you?” with one of your heart shaking winks before you saunter out, ready to start putting together your latest design.

Its kind of an accepted, not really a secret, secret. Its never put into words, and they know that you know, and you know that they know you know. Nothing ends up happening with it though, outside of you making some jokes and judging their hero outfits.

With age you’ve become less sultry and alluring, at least in the way the public can point out as obviously as before. You have simply mastered your field, and know just how to play people around you if you need too.

Though, you didn’t really learn to master it for the public. It’s mainly just for Waylon, so you like to see how his nostrils flare, and when he starts chuffing in the back of his throat when you saunter around in nothing but a silk robe.

The bats know that the first place Waylon goes when he gets out of Arkham is to you. But…they also all know to wait at least a day or two before they come for him. To allow you to spend some time together, but also because most of them have caught of glimpse of you… reunions…

Bruce wont admit it, but he’s at least impressed with you being able to take two of them at the same time, even after all these years. He might note down your many skills somewhere… just in case.

Reunions with Waylon are typically a hot and steamy affair. Or well, as hot and steamy as a guy whose as cold as a reptile can get. There are days where either of you may not be up for it, and then its just cuddles and having some nice domestic time together before he’s taken back to Arkham again.

But when it does get hot, then you are very happy you own the entire building. Waylon can get quite loud, but never as loud as he still makes you even after all these years.

Sure, you’ve learned to handle it more after all this time, but it still makes you squeal when Waylon fits both his shafts inside you at the same time, lifting and moving you around like a doll.

Where Waylon may be rough and violent in every other part of his life, Waylon is slower and much more careful in the bedroom. He doesn’t want to lose his senses and hurt you on accident. You have some very faded bite and claw scars on your body, back from when you first got together, and Waylon likes to remind himself of that.

Sometimes you do want him to be rougher about it, so you pull all the skills you’ve gained over the years. And Waylon is but a man, even with the scales and all, so he can’t resist you for very long. It always ends up with you writhing, face in the pillow that’s stained with your tears and drool or pleasure, as Waylon growls and snarls behind you, his big, clawed hands moving you back and forth with ease.

He always feels a bit guilty about it afterwards, especially seeing how much you leak all over the sheets. Expect to find yourself being pampered and loved on for the next couple of days. Even the bats seem to leave you to it, most likely having heard your cries. You get a feeling the people in the next building heard them too. But you honestly don’t care anymore.

You may have Waylon, and many others, wrapped around your finger, but so does Waylon with you. And neither of you really seem to mind anymore.

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lilianalovespink · 2 days

Text

CW// incest, mentions of nipple piercings, mentions of only fans

Price has a daughter.

She's a spoiled little princess with chubby little arms and legs, but she's not mean by any means. Just all teary eyed and pouty lipped, mary-jane dressed feet dragging along the floor when she's told no.

She's the result of his promotion to Sergeant, his wife's gift, he says. He sadly misses a lot of her development, but she's not exactly missing out on luxuries and treats when he's away, her mother spoiling her just as much. So, when John decides to 'hang up his boots' and retire from his military career as captain, she's already 'all grown up', bright eyed, sweet and honest little thing, definitely very sensitive, but not afraid to question everything. Well, anything but her papa, of course.

Cue John inviting the task force over for dinner once they're on leave, meet his wife and kid, only for a very dumbfounded Johnny to stand in the doorway, holding some whiskey for John, flowers for the missus and... a little Dolly for the very much nineteen year old girl, standing next to her father smiling from ear to ear, happily greeting the task force.

"Och'- I'm so sorry lass', I thought ye were still 'Bonnie little thing-"

But she's all cheerful, say's she can add her to the shelf with her old Barbie's with a smile as Kyle cackles at Johnny embarrassing himself. Turns out John had only shown his teammates the old pictures, the ones of her in poofy pink princess dresses holding magic wands and giggling, the ones of her sleeping in his arms for the first time, small newborn safe and sound in her fathers strong arms.

Seeing John interact with his daughter now, however, is not much different.

She's still his baby, his sweet little girl, his princess, the one that's dressed in the most proper, well ironed, pink and cute clothes, bows and ruffle, adorable but somewhat elegant and they all understand that, whatever he was with them was far from paternal if this is how softly he cares for the chubby little girl, grinning at him as he talks to his lieutenant, all with a loving hand on her head, stroking her hair.

And none of the team would see her as particularly rebellious or even... mildly mature, not with how pink and soft and full of old Barbie dolls and music boxes her room is, not with how she goes to sleep at 21:00 wearing a white, short, silk pyjama with pink hemming at the top and pants and a pink bow in the middle of the shirts top hem, after giving both her parents a kiss on the cheek and waving the team goodbye and not with how she's listening to some kids CD story as she goes to sleep.

So then it makes no sense to Ghost that he catches her smoking outside of her University just two weeks after they visit.

It also makes no sense to Soap when he sees her giggling, hanging off some boy's arm who's currently showing his mates his 'Brand new pistol'.

And it absolutely is nonsensical for Gaz to have seen her with her pretty pyjamas pushed up, exposing swollen, pierced nipples on her Onlyfans account. <3

//and it makes the least sense to see a video in their groupchat of her crying and whining as some very familiar big, hairy hands stroke her plump backside as a big, fat cock pistons out of her little pink hole all whilst a gruff voice says; "Good girl princess, y'r moving y'r hips so well."

#cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty x reader #captain price #18+ mdni #tw inc*st #coquette

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starboye · 19 hours

Note

uhhh idk roomie vinnie getting all possessive when the reader comes home smelling of another man’s cologne

“Why do you smell like that?”

“Like what? You mean the cologne?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve been studying with a coursematw all day. He’s been trying out new colognes, I guess it just rubbed off on me.”

Oh shit, now he’s annoyed. Can you guess who’s being picked up and dragged into the bathroom for possessive shower sex? The reader.

Same reader’s gonna be forced to spend time “around” (cuddling and/or getting fucked by) Vinnie and forced to wear his clothes so he smells like Vinnie going forwaed

😇😇😇 idk vibnie hacker man I just like possessive men

he's fuming

why do you smell like another man? where have you been? who have you been with? and better yet did you fuck them? all questions running through vinnie's mind as you walked through the door and he caught a whiff of you scent

"why do you smell like that"

"smell like what"

"like some other guys cologne"

"oh yeah I was out with a friend and he was trying on some cologne so I guess it rubbed off on me"

hanging out with another guy and trying on cologne, what the fuck why would you want to do that with some random guy when you could hang out with him all day, preferably in bed but you guys can go out (if you can walk after)

he can't have this, you walking around smelling like another guy like the only man you ever need is right here, and guess what he's doing next? picking you up and taking you to the bathroom to wash off that horrible scent

not caring about your orders to put you down, quickly taking off your and his clothes and putting you both in the shower where he's scrubbing every inch of your body of the odor, maybe even groping you a little as he passes your ass, your soapy figure had ideas running through his head at the speed of light

you stood there waiting for him to finish his paranoia but don't think once you're out the shower you're off the hook, nope he's dragging you to his room and dressing you in his large shirt to let his scent rub off on you

and it only makes sense he fucks you into his amazing smelling bed, y'know just to make sure you're coated in his scent for the next week or so, waking up the next morning after getting your ass wrecked is rough but what's even harder is vinnie forcing you too where his clothes all say evey day

making you wear his shirts and shorts that are way to big on you but he doesn't care and also doesn't matter if you're going out with friends, he's putting his hoodie on you and whenever they ask you if that's vinnie's hoodie he immediately says you lost all yours (he really hid all them so you could only wear his)

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x male reader #x male reader #roommate!vinnie hacker

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moonsandmobilityaids · 3 days

Text

The Plan

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: It's the boys' turn to enact their plan. Warnings: Chronic pain, smut Series Masterlist | Part 1

"Now that you've had your fun," he murmurs, lips brushing against your jawline, "can we proceed with our plan?"

The question stirs a flutter of anticipation within you, but also a sense of unease. You furrow your brow, considering the implications of his words.

"Your plan?" Your voice is barely a whisper, taut with both curiosity and apprehension. "What are you planning?"

You ask, though part of you fears the answer, another part yearns for the promise of change, of hope. Sirius's grin doesn't waver, only widens, revealing the reckless edge that always seems to accompany his bravado.

"Just lie back and let us take care of you," he suggests, the twinkle in his eye belying the gravity of what he implies.

"That doesn't exactly clarify anything," you retort, and James chuckles, a sound that vibrates through you as if you're intimately connected.

"Do you trust us?" James's question hangs in the air, heavy with implications, as he begins to loosen your jeans. His gaze never leaves yours, a silent challenge that quickens your pulse.

"Yes." The word slips from your lips before you can fully comprehend the gravity of what you're saying, but James appears satisfied. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he nods, acknowledging your consent. His thumb traces slow circles on your lower abdomen, just above the waistband of your jeans, and you shiver under the feather-light touch.

"We want to take care of you," James murmurs, the words a soft promise against your skin. His fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, the action slow and deliberate, his touch lingering even as he moves to pull them down. All the while, Sirius watches, his eyes never leaving the sight of James's hands on you.

Your breath hitches as James hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down in a smooth motion that leaves you bare to their gazes. He follows the path with kisses, each one burning into your skin as he descends to kneel between your spread thighs. Remus leans against the wall, his eyes locked onto yours as his hand moves rhythmically his cock, stroking himself back to being hard. His hair is tousled, lips slightly parted as he watches you, and the sight of him so undone by desire sends a jolt of anticipation through you.

The air is thick with want, each breath you take filled with the scent of them—of sweat and cologne and something distinctly male. Sirius leans down to capture your lips once more, and the world tilts on its axis. His tongue explores your mouth, possessive and demanding, stoking the fire within you until you're certain you'll be consumed by it.

"Impatient, are we?" you manage to breathe out when he pulls back, his eyes darkened by a hunger that mirrors your own.

"Always," he whispers, the warmth of his breath dancing across your skin. His fingers trace a path down your side, edging beneath the lace waistband of your underwear. The rough pads of his knuckles glide against your sensitive flesh, drawing a sharp intake of breath from you as your hips instinctively buck towards him. You yearn for more—more contact, more friction—to quell the fire that's been ignited within.

But Sirius doesn't yield to your silent plea just yet. He teases, his fingertips ghosting along the edge of your underwear, tantalisingly close to where you need him most. His lips move with yours in a deepening kiss, his tongue pressing forward as if seeking answers to unspoken questions. But then you feel it—a firm hand, not Sirius's, pushing his away from your underwear. James's fingers curl around the lace, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he tugs them down slowly, exposing you completely. Your clit pulses with anticipation, aching for the touch that has been promised.

The wait becomes unbearable as James leaves you hanging, his gaze fixated on your bare form like a predator eyeing its prey. You let out a frustrated whine, earning a soft chuckle from Remus who leans against the wall, his eyes never leaving the scene before him. The sound of his low laughter only stokes the fire within you, fuelled further by Sirius's lips marking your neck.

Finally, the torment ends—or rather, it takes a different form. James's fingers find their way back to you, tracing slow circles around your outer folds. He's achingly close to your swollen clit but never quite touching it, the promise of contact making you whimper in need.

"Please," you gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. You no longer care how needy you sound—the desire coursing through your veins demands satisfaction, and you're past the point of denying it.

Your hips rise off the bed, seeking his touch once more, but he pulls back, leaving you bereft. A whimper escapes your lips, a sound of pure frustration.

"James," you breathe, not caring how desperate you sound. His expression is unreadable, and it only serves to increase your confusion. How can he be so aloof when there's so much desire between you?

"Please," you plead, unable to keep the quiver from your voice. "Touch me."

A low chuckle rumbles from Remus' direction, drawing your gaze to him. He's watching, his eyes filled with amusement and something darker, something that makes your heart pound against your ribcage.

"Stop teasing her, Prongs," Remus says, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "It's almost cruel."

"I just want to see her beg," James replies, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he meets your gaze. There's a cruel satisfaction in his eyes, one that makes your stomach flutter with anticipation and dread.

Sirius lets out a low sigh and reaches between your legs himself. His fingers find your clit, and you gasp as he applies a gentle pressure. He circles the sensitive nub with a firm touch, coaxing a moan from your lips. The relief is immediate, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making your head spin.

But then Sirius pulls away, leaving you hanging on the precipice. You whimper at the loss, your hips bucking up in silent plea. "You're so needy," he whispers against your skin, his warm breath raising goosebumps along your flesh.

"God, Sirius," you gasp, trying to sound stern but failing as your voice breaks with desperation. "Don't tease."

"But begging looks so good on you." James's voice is a low growl, resonating with primal desire. He continues his ministrations unabated, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin, stoking the fire within.

Desire flares within you, hot and urgent, making you curse the traitorous way your body yearns for their touch. Sirius lowers his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and you cry out as he bites down gently. Pleasure spikes through you, sharp and sweet, before he soothes the sting with languid strokes of his tongue.

James' thumb finds your clit, slick with lube. He circles it slowly, his touch light but insistent. The pleasure builds in you like a wave gathering strength, each stroke pushing you toward the crest.

The heat of his hand against your bare skin contrasts sharply with the cool air of the room, every point of contact a flare of sensation. His fingers dance over your folds, tracing paths that have your breath hitching.

"Fuck," you groan, hips lifting to meet his touch as he changes the rhythm. Now his strokes are purposeful, no longer teasing but intent on driving you toward release. His thumb presses down harder on your clit, and a shudder racks your body.

But he doesn't relent. Instead, his movements become more deliberate, alternating between firm pressure and feather-light caresses that leave you writhing beneath him. Your fingers dig into the sheets, grasping for something solid as James continues to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

His hand trails lower, fingers teasing at your entrance while his mouth finds your clit. Before you can draw a full breath, he's sucking there, hot and wet, and it's almost too much. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud as he slides a finger inside you. You feel the pressure building, your inner walls clamping down on him instinctively.

You want to move against his hand and mouth, but each shift sends a jolt of pain shooting through your hips. It's a stark reminder of reality, grounding you amidst the sea of desire that threatens to pull you under.

"Love, are you alright?" Remus' voice cuts through the haze, concern lacing his words as he watches your face contort with both pleasure and pain.

"Yes," you manage to choke out, though it comes out more like a whimper. "Just... need a moment."

James pulls back immediately, ceasing his ministrations. His fingers, slick with your arousal, retreat and instead, draw soothing circles along your inner thigh. "What hurts?"

"My hips," you manage to say, wincing as you try to adjust your position.

"Let's try this," Sirius suggests, his hands carefully guiding you onto your side. The change in position brings some relief, the pressure on your lower back lessening slightly. His grey eyes meet yours, mirroring the same concern that lingers in Remus'. "Better?" he asks, and you nod, if only a little.

"Yes," you breathe out, the word barely more than a whisper. A small smile tugs at the corners of Sirius' mouth, not one of amusement but of relief. He brushes a stray lock of hair away from your forehead, his touch feather-light against your skin.

James moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his gaze intent on your exposed centre. There's an unmistakable hunger in his eyes, even now, when pleasure is secondary to the potential for pain. He reaches out, his thumb tracing along the curve of your lips before pressing gently, parting them with a reverence that belies his usual bravado.

"You're beautiful," James murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of pounding heartbeats and shallow breaths. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the sheen of perspiration that clings to your skin, the flush spreading across your cheeks, your breasts rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He can feel the heat radiating from your core, a testament to your desire for not just one, but all three men who now lay claim to your pleasure.

And they crave you with equal fervor. Remus continues his steady strokes, the sight of you spread before them too much to resist. James and Sirius are both achingly hard, and at some point, they’d shed their clothes, but they pay no mind to their own arousal. All their attention is focused on you, watching as your body responds to their every touch.

Your hand moves to reciprocate, reaching for Sirius's arousal, but he captures your wrist in his firm grasp. "Not now, baby," he breathes into your ear, his voice a soft growl that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers lower, finding the sensitive nub at your apex. He begins circling it with a slow, steady rhythm that has you arching against him. "Tonight is about you."

You whimper in response, your head falling back onto the pillow as pleasure curls within your belly. Your body reacts to their touches, aching and yearning for more of their attention. You give a small nod, consenting to their ministrations.

Sirius continues his gentle assault on your clit as James pushes two fingers inside you. The stretch burns, your body adjusting to the intrusion, but the discomfort soon gives way to pure pleasure. Your hips shift, seeking more contact, more pressure and James obliges, his fingers curling within you.

"Fuck," you gasp out, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Every brush of Sirius's fingers against your clit sends jolts of electricity coursing through you, each one stronger than the last. James's fingers move in time with Sirius's strokes, a symphony of sensation that leaves you writhing beneath them.

Your voice is a broken whisper, your plea barely more than a breath. You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes half-closed with need, and the smirk on his face says he knows just how desperate you are. James adds a third finger inside you, stretching you further as his thumb takes over from Sirius on your clit. He rubs it in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to keep the pleasure mounting.

His thumb continues its steady pace over your clit, each stroke sending shocks of pleasure through you that make your toes curl. The knot in your body tightens with every pass, wound up and ready to snap. As James shifts his fingers inside you, the sensation changes, hitting an angle that steals your breath away. When he curls them just right, striking that elusive spot, your vision swims.

"Ah—!" You gasp, your back arching. The pressure builds, your body on the precipice of something monumental.

"That's it," Sirius murmurs into your ear, teeth grazing your neck. "Let us make you feel good."

The roughness of his voice sends shivers down your spine, your body responding to his command before your mind can catch up. Your hips buck against James's hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Yes," you breathe out, the word barely a whisper.

"You like that, baby?" Sirius asks, his hot breath fanning over your skin. He bites down gently on your neck, marking you as his, and you respond with a nod, too lost in the sensations to form words.

The bite sends another jolt of desire coursing through you, adding fuel to the already roaring fire within. Every touch, every whisper, every look from them adds another layer to this exquisite torture, pushing you further and further towards the edge until you're teetering, ready to fall.

"Please," you gasp, the word barely a breath, your hips grinding against the rhythm of his fingers. Your body arches, pressing into James's touch, seeking more—a deeper, harder friction.

His fingers move faster inside you, their pads rough against your slick walls. The pressure builds as he curls them, hitting that spot deep within you over and over. Sirius’s mouth finds your neck, biting gently at the tender skin, his hands exploring the curves of your body with an almost reverent touch.

Across the room, Remus watches, his eyes dark with desire. He strokes himself slowly, savouring the sight of you writhing between the boys. Your soft moans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure that stirs his arousal, yet he remains where he is, watching and waiting for you to beckon him closer.

James's thumb circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, driving you closer to the edge with each calculated movement. Your legs tremble, muscles tightening around him as your body threatens to unravel.

You sense Remus stepping closer, his body radiating heat as he moves to the edge of the bed. His hand still strokes himself, his gaze locked on the scene unfolding before him. You can see the desire in his eyes, matching the intensity of James and Sirius's attention. It's intoxicating, the way they all focus on you, their every action designed to coax pleasure from your trembling form. But it's also disorienting, the room spinning slightly as you fight to keep yourself grounded. You want them to feel this too, to experience the ecstasy they're bringing you. They deserve that much.

James's thumb finds your clit again, pressing down in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers inside you. Each stroke sends a jolt through your body, heightening the sensations coursing through your veins. It's almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as you struggle to keep up. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your mind reeling from the onslaught of sensation. You lose yourself in it, letting the feeling consume you until there's nothing left but raw, primal need. It's so intense that you nearly forget about the burning desire to reach climax, to find release from the tension building within you.

Almost, but not quite. The frustration simmers below the surface, a tight knot in your stomach that refuses to unravel no matter how hard you try. You can feel it there, just out of reach, taunting you with its elusive promise of relief. The more you chase it, the further it seems to recede, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

The next touch comes from Sirius, his mouth closing over your nipple with a sureness that sends sparks shooting through your veins. He suckles with an intensity that has you gasping, arching into the sensation as pleasure sharpens into something bordering on pain.

Remus shifts to the other side of the bed, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is both an apology and a promise. His hand mirrors Sirius's actions, teasing your other breast until your skin is alive with want. You taste your moans on his tongue, hear them echoed in the low growl that vibrates against your chest.

It's too much and not enough, all at once. The room spins with the intoxicating mix of sensations, yet you crave more—more of their touch, their taste, their presence pressing in on all sides.

You feel each stroke of Sirius's tongue like a brand, every squeeze of Remus's fingers like they're moulding you anew. James's hand delves lower, tracing paths across your stomach that make your hips buck, seeking friction against nothing but air. Your breaths come in shallow pants, your heart pounding a desperate rhythm against your ribs.

The pressure mounts, each touch a promise of the release you crave. But as your body strains towards its peak, something holds you back. The climax you yearn for remains elusive, an echo of pleasure that dances just out of reach.

"Fuck," you gasp, the word torn from your lips by frustration and need. "I can't... I need..."

James pulls away abruptly, leaving you bereft and aching, your body thrumming with unfulfilled desire. His eyes are dark, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own, but there's a calculating edge to his gaze.

"No," you protest, voice hoarse. "Don't stop. Please."

A wicked smile plays on his lips, but it's not satisfaction that fuels it—it's anticipation. "We're not stopping, love. Far from it."

Relief washes over you, followed by a fresh wave of confusion. If they're not stopping, then what are they doing? You look to James for answers, but he only watches you, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin and heaving chest.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, tracing a finger along the curve of your hip. "So desperate, so needy. You'd take anything we give you, wouldn't you?" His words aren't really a question—they're a challenge, and despite the rawness of your body, you find yourself nodding, eager for whatever they have planned.

"Maybe it's time we give her what she wants," Remus suggests, his voice velvet over steel. He leans in closer, his lips hovering just beside your ear. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheek, making you shiver. "We each have an idea of how to make you cum. So who do you want first?"

"I can't," you breathe out, the edges of your vision blurring as the pleasure continues to build. "I can't choose."

"Then let's go from least likely to most likely," James decides. He reaches for his wand and Sirius reluctantly pulls away, allowing James to slide in beside you. You wrap a leg around his waist, drawing him closer. He grips the base of his cock and strokes it a few times, eyes never leaving yours.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, breathless as he reaches for the bottle of lube.

He glances over his shoulder at Remus and Sirius before looking back at you. "I'm going to fuck you," he says, voice low and full of promise. "And while I do, I'm going to cast a spell that heightens your sensations."

Your heart hammers in your chest as he begins to lube up his cock. The thought of what's to come sends a thrill of anticipation through you. Three men, each with their own unique approach to pleasure, ready to claim you in turn.

"But it doesn't stop there," James continues, his eyes never leaving yours. "Once I've finished, Sirius will take my place. He'll use a different spell, one that acts like a muggle vibrator."

A whimper escapes your lips at the thought, your body already aching for more. You can't imagine what this spell will feel like, how it could possibly enhance what you're already experiencing. But you trust James, trust them all, and so you nod, giving him permission to continue.

"Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you once more. His lips move against yours, a soothing balm to the storm of desire raging within you. "And after Sirius... Remus is going to use a toy on you, a suction one, right on your clit while he fucks you. It'll be... intense."

"God," you moan, the word barely a whisper as heat floods your core. The idea of it all, the promise of what's to come, has your head spinning. But even amidst the whirlwind of sensation, one thing is clear: you want this. You want them, all three of them, and everything they have to offer.

A thrill of anticipation shivers through you as James murmurs a warming charm, his fingers deftly tracing a path over your clit. The magic sends a rush of heat to your core and your thighs quiver in response, the pleasure building with every gentle stroke.

"Fuck," you gasp, your back arching off the bed as the warmth intensifies, each pulse more potent than the last. Your vision blurs with the intensity of it, the world narrowing down to the sensation between your legs.

Then, with an incantation you don't recognise, he amplifies your sensitivity even further, making you acutely aware of every tiny movement, every breath that fans across your skin.

The soft whimper that escapes your lips is involuntary when he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your folds. You're wet and ready for him, but the need to feel him inside you is so overwhelming that your hips lift involuntarily, seeking contact.

James doesn't make you wait any longer; with a low groan, he pushes forward, sinking into you. His eyes slip shut, and you can almost taste his pleasure in the way his muscles tense and relax as he begins to move. The creak of the bed beneath you is drowned out by your own moans, each one a testament to how good he feels inside you.

Every nerve ending in your body is alight with sensation, but you barely register the way your fingernails dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper. He fills you completely, and the friction of his cock against your walls is just right—enough to keep you teetering on the edge, but not enough to send you over.

"Fuck," James breathes, a swear that's half groan and half prayer. His hand tightens on your hip, fingers pressing into the tender flesh as he moves, slow and measured within you. The warmth around your clit is almost unbearable, amplified by the rhythm of his body against yours. Each stroke sends tremors through you, waves lapping at the shore of your senses before receding, only to return with even greater intensity.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a gasp that's swallowed by the night. Your muscles clench around him, a silent plea for more. He answers with a low growl, his pace quickening. Heat flares along your skin, the friction between your bodies sparking a fire that threatens to consume you both.

James' grip on your hips is unyielding, each thrust driving him deeper, harder. Anticipation coils tight within you, a spring wound up to its breaking point. And then, with one final, devastating push, he breaches the last barrier of your restraint, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy.

Remus and Sirius watch in rapt attention as James begins to move against you, the rhythm slow but unyielding. His moans fill the room, a testament to the pleasure coursing through him, but they are only a backdrop to the symphony of your own rising desire.

Their gazes burn into your skin, sending shivers down your spine even as James's hands explore your body. You can see the shared need reflected in their eyes, the hunger that mirrors your own. It's intoxicating, this dance of desire, made all the more potent by the presence of those who share it with you.

Sirius reaches out, his hand closing around one of your breasts with an urgency that matches the rhythm of your bodies. The unexpected touch sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and you arch your back, a low moan escaping your lips. Your nipples harden under his touch, each flick of his thumb sending waves of pleasure radiating through your chest.

But despite the mounting tension within you, release remains just out of reach. It's infuriating and exhilarating all at once, the promise of climax hanging in the air like an unspoken vow. You dig your fingers into James's shoulders as he thrusts into you, the friction between your bodies sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

Sweat beads on your skin, the heat between you both intense and unrelenting. It slickens the movement, each slide of James's body against yours sending shudders through you both. He maintains a steady pace, the rhythm familiar yet overwhelming, each push coaxing another moan from your throat.

His breath is hot on your neck, the sound of it a steady whisper in your ear. One of his hands leaves your hip to trail down your body, fingers seeking out the source of your pleasure. When he finds it, you gasp, lifting your hips to meet his touch. Your body reacts instinctively, craving the contact that promises to tip you over the edge.

Your eyes flutter shut, a whimper escaping your lips as you bite down on the soft flesh of your bottom lip to stifle the scream threatening to break free. The additional stimulation is almost too much, pushing you closer to the edge, but still not enough to send you over.

James's thumb moves in slow circles around your sensitised pearl, his smirk one of pure satisfaction as he watches you unravel. Desperate for more, you grind your hips into his hand, seeking the friction that will tip you over the edge, but James simply holds you steady, his rhythm unyielding as he plunges into you again and again.

Leaning in, Sirius captures your lips with his own, drawing you into a dizzying kiss that makes your head tilt back to offer him better access. His breath is hot against your skin, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving deeper, his pace matching James's. You moan into his mouth, the added sensation amplifying everything until you're on the brink once more, squirming beneath their touch.

You push your hips harder against James's hand, but his fingers falter, the sudden pause in his rhythm leaving you gasping, the need for release becoming unbearable. Your body tenses, and a whine of frustration escapes your throat, the pent-up pleasure begging for release.

"Fuck!" You gasp, breaking the kiss with Sirius to look at James with eyes that plead for mercy. "Please, James, I need...just...ugh!"

The tension inside you feels unbearable, and every time you think you're close to finding release, it slips away. Frustration builds into a low growl against Sirius's lips, and he doesn't laugh at your desperation this time.

"Shh, I know, love. Just relax," James murmurs against your ear, still moving inside you with a control that's maddening in its precision. Then, almost simultaneously, Sirius's thumb begins to circle your clit while James mutters a spell under his breath. The sensation on your nipples intensifies, making them ache with a sudden sharpness that steals your breath.

The combination is heady, a symphony of pleasure that lights sparks from your breasts to your core. You can't help but arch into their touches, the enchanted heat winding tighter within you. Yet despite the crescendo of sensations, release remains tantalisingly out of reach.

"Please," you gasp, voice rough with need. "I... I can't..."

You writhe, hips undulating against Sirius's insistent touch, seeking the relief that dangles just beyond your grasp. But they don't relent, the intensity building until you're certain you'll shatter.

"Ah," James groans, the sensation of your hardened nipples brushing against his chest only adding to the delicious friction. "You are going to cum for us. We won't stop until we've done that, but I... Merlin... I may not last much longer."

His confession sends a thrill through you, as if his impending release is another form of control he's surrendering to you. You feel him throb inside you, the pulsating rhythm matching the frantic beat of your heart.

"I don't know how much more I can..."

"Cum for me, James." Your voice is no more than a breathless whisper in his ear, yet it carries the weight of command. Your legs wrap tighter around him, drawing him deeper still. "Please. I want you to cum."

And with that, he shatters. His thrusts become erratic, his grip on you tightening as if you are the only tether to reality. The pulsing heat of him sends waves of pleasure through your core, but it's not enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps out, chest heaving as he collapses beside you. His body is slick with sweat, muscles twitching from the aftershocks of release. You smile at the ceiling, reaching up to push damp strands of hair from your forehead.

"That's good," you murmur, turning onto your side to face him. His eyes are half-lidded, clouded with satiation and something warmer, softer. You lean in, pressing a slow kiss to his lips, savouring the taste of him—salt and sweetness, desire and relief.

When you finally pull away, his smile is lazy, the flush on his cheeks deepening under your scrutiny. The corners of his mouth lift in a satisfied grin, one that speaks volumes of the pleasure he's just experienced. But his satisfaction is short-lived because there's still unfinished business between the sheets—you've yet to find your own release.

Sirius's eyes flicker with anticipation as he shifts, positioning himself between your spread thighs. They're slick with James's release and lube, and now, they're ready for more. Sirius guides himself, sliding the head of his cock up and down your folds, spreading the mixture of fluids around.

James passes the wand to Sirius, who takes it with a knowing smirk. "Let me help you with that," he says, his voice low and full of promise. He angles the wand just right, directing its tip towards your clit. As he utters the incantation, a pulse of magic surges from the wand, sending waves of vibration through your body. You gasp, your back arching as pleasure radiates from your core. Your hips jerk instinctively, seeking more of the sensation that threatens to consume you.

"Patience, love," Sirius says, his voice a teasing caress that matches the rhythm of the wand. He moves to position himself at your entrance, replacing James's absence with his own girth.

The stretch is more noticeable with Sirius, his thickness a contrast to James's length. Yet there's an odd sense of completion as he fills you, as though each man offers something different yet equally satisfying.

Sirius sets a rhythm, steady and deep, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches every reaction. Your pleasure is mirrored in the depths of his grey gaze, the firelight flickering across them, casting shadows that only add to the intimate atmosphere.

"Talk to me," he commands, his voice a low growl. "Tell me how it feels."

The words are barely a whisper, lost in the space between your bodies. "It's... incredible." You arch into him, chasing the sensation as he thrusts deeper, hitting just the right spot. A moan escapes your lips, unbidden but entirely warranted given the circumstances.

"You're perfect," Sirius grunts, the strain evident in his voice. The charm continues its relentless assault on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you each time he moves. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until all that exists is this moment.

Your head falls back, your body arching instinctively towards the source of your pleasure. Sirius follows your movements, adjusting his angle to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again. Each thrust sends stars bursting behind your closed eyelids, the world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, the sound of your ragged breaths filling the room.

You're barely aware of the lips that trace a path along the back of your neck, the warmth of breath on your ear a stark contrast to the slight roughness of stubble against your skin. The hands on your hips are firm, holding you steady as Sirius continues to ravage your senses from the front. His fingers dance across your skin, every touch igniting tiny sparks under the surface, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Remus's voice is low, almost a growl, as he leans in closer, his body a wall of heat behind you. "Beautiful," he murmurs, the word barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breathing. He's watching you, you realise, taking in every reaction, every shiver and gasp that passes your lips.

The praise sends a thrill through you, stoking the fire within until it threatens to consume you completely. You're teetering on the edge, the world narrowing down to the feel of their hands on your body, their voices in your ears. There's an urgency now, a need that claws at your insides, demanding to be sated.

"Good girl," Remus whispers, his words a lifeline as you drown in sensation. "So good for us."

But despite their efforts, the release you crave remains just out of reach. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, yet something holds you back from the edge. Sirius can sense it, feel your frustration mirroring his own as he drives into you harder, faster, desperate to tip you over into bliss. He's close too, so close, his breathing erratic and strained as he urges you on.

"Please," he growls, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "Just let go, love. You're so close... I can feel it..."

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, anchoring him to you as he seeks his own release. But it's your pleasure he craves, the sight of you undone beneath him that will send him spiralling into ecstasy. He can feel it building within you, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust, each moan that escapes your lips.

"Sirius," you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Please..."

Your nails drag down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The sharp sting only spurs him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He's losing control, and the thought sends a jolt of arousal through you, intensifying the pleasure that threatens to consume you both.

The pressure of Remus' hands against your hips is a grounding presence, anchoring you when every nerve ending screams for release. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you steady as Sirius continues to thrust, the rhythm unrelenting. The vibrating spell on your clit hums with an intensity that borders on too much, threatening to rip you apart at the seams.

"Fuck," you gasp, head falling back against Remus' shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut, the room spinning as pleasure coalesces into a single point of blinding light. It dances just out of reach, tantalising and maddening in equal measure.

Sirius doesn't let up, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. The bed creaks under the weight of your tangled bodies, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex and magic.

Every fibre of your being is wound tight, strung taut between the promise of release and the fear of losing control. Your heart pounds in your chest, the sensation so intense it's almost painful. And then, as if sensing your struggle, Remus' voice cuts through the fog of pleasure once more.

"Trust us," he whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "We've got you."

But you remain stubbornly stuck on that precipice, teetering on the edge, unable to fall into the delicious abyss that awaits below.

"Fuck, I—" Sirius's words cut off with a growl, his teeth gritted against the onslaught of sensation. One final, powerful thrust and he stills, his body taut as a bowstring. You can feel him pulsing inside you, each throb sending ripples through your senses, even as your own climax remains frustratingly out of reach.

Sirius’s lips find your collarbone, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat before his tongue traces a path upwards to your ear. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, the words a rough caress against your skin. His voice is thick with desire, the darkness in it hinting at promises yet unfulfilled.

The sensation of Sirius pulling out is almost too much to bear, a keen sense of loss chasing the echoes of pleasure. The magic that had been dancing on your clit ceases, leaving you bereft and whining softly in the hollow stillness.

"Don’t worry, we're not finished," Remus's voice is a soothing balm, his hands warm and reassuring as they trace patterns on your skin, igniting the path for what's to come. He pulls you back towards him, your hips meeting his in a rhythm that promises more pleasure—different this time.

"Are you ready for something new?" His words are heavy with anticipation, a soft growl that makes your stomach flutter in response.

Before you can answer, he presses a small device against your clit, a different form of magic buzzing to life. It's not like the vibrating spell—this one feels more... suction-like—and you let out a low whine at the unexpected sensation. Your clit is already sensitive from the earlier spell, throbbing with need, but you don't care about the overstimulation. You're teetering on the edge, desperate for release.

"That's it... Let yourself feel everything." His breath fans across your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You sound so beautiful when you lose control."

His fingers slip between your folds once more, gathering your arousal before he replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. He presses in slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before he starts moving inside you. The sensation is almost too much—his cock filling you whilst the toy continues its relentless pressure on your clit.

"Fuck," Remus groans as he enters you fully, his hand gripping your hip tightly. He sets a slow, deliberate pace, thrusting into you while keeping the toy firmly against your clit. But it's not enough—you need more, your hips pushing back to meet him, seeking the intensity that only he can give.

"Easy, love," he breathes against your skin, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. His control is slipping, and you can sense it—feel it—in every stroke.

But you're past reason now, desperate for release. "I can't, Remus... I need..." Your voice trails off, unable to articulate the urgency coursing through your veins.

A low hum grows louder as the toy increases its pace, the suction pulling at your sensitive bud in a rhythm designed to drive you mad. Each pulse sends a jolt through your body, drawing gasps from your lips and leaving you writhing against the bed.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely audible over the sounds of your own pleasure. "Please..."

The slow drag of Remus's cock within you is nothing short of exquisite torture, each thrust calculated to keep you teetering on the edge of release without granting you the sweet relief you crave. Your hips buck into his, seeking more contact, more friction, but he maintains his relentless pace, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still.

A gasp rips from your throat as the toy buzzes against a particularly sensitive spot, your eyes rolling back as you arch into the sensation. A smirk pulls at Remus's lips, his thumb swiping over the controls to increase the intensity. The sudden change has your breath hitching, your body tightening as pleasure edges you closer to release.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hands clenching in the sheets as your body writhes under the onslaught of sensations. "Remus, I can't..."

But your plea falls on deaf ears—or perhaps it is simply ignored. Either way, the toy against your clit is relentless, pushing you ever closer to the precipice you're not sure you're ready to tumble over.

"Please," you whimper again, your voice barely above a whisper, but the desperation behind it is palpable. It's a plea for mercy, for release, for him to take you there—and yet, he doesn't relent.

Instead, his movements become more purposeful, more forceful. His hips meet yours with each thrust, driving him deeper inside you. Each time he hits that spot within, a jolt of pleasure courses through you and converges with the relentless rhythm of the toy against your clit. It's too much—too intense—but it's also not enough, leaving you teetering on the brink, desperate for the release that is just out of reach.

You've never felt this close, and Remus knows it by the way you're tightening around him. His lips quirk in a satisfied smirk as he keeps the toy pressed firmly against your clit. The suction sends waves of pleasure through you, making your hips buck back against him, despite his attempt to hold you still so he can continue. Your breaths come fast and desperate, each one sounding more strained than the last.

The ache inside you pulses intensely, and your clit is so sensitive it borders on pain. You're swamped with sensation, focused entirely on that single, all-consuming point of desire.

Remus's grip on your hips tightens, his own breath hitching as he feels you clenching around him. He knows you're teetering on the edge, and there's an undeniable sense of relief for both of you as this intense build-up finally nears its peak.

The sounds of James and Sirius are there too, their breaths hitching, their groans intermingling with your own. But it's Remus's moans that float above the rest, a low growl that vibrates against your skin. His hips move with purpose, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"Remus," you whimper, your fingers curling into the sheets as you feel your climax building, coiling tight within your core. You're so close, teetering on the brink of release. You can taste it, the sweet promise of ecstasy that awaits just out of reach.

The tempo shifts, a sudden urgency replacing the steady rhythm. Remus is a force of nature, his movements as unpredictable and thrilling as a storm at sea. His breath gusts hot against your ear, the words he whispers there lost in the swell of sensation that threatens to drown you.

His grip tightens on the wand, the pressure against your sensitive flesh increasing until the vibrations become an irresistible pulse. It resonates within you, an echo of your own heartbeat that drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely more than a breath, yet it carries the weight of your desperation. "Please."

"Let go for me," he whispers, his voice rough with shared need. It's a plea, a command wrapped in velvet tones that hits you like a tidal wave, resonating in the very core of your being.

And with those words, the dam breaks. A rush of pleasure so intense it borders on pain sweeps through you. It starts from the epicentre of your desire, radiating outwards until every nerve ending is ablaze with sensation. Your vision whites out, replaced by a burst of stars behind your eyelids as you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls.

Your body convulses, wracked by waves of ecstasy that leave no room for thought or reason. All that exists is the here and now, the overwhelming fullness of him inside you, and the relentless surge of pleasure that seems to go on forever.

Remus' length pulses as he finds his own release, hands splayed wide on your hips, grounding him to reality. His body tenses, a silent exclamation of climax before relaxing into a boneless heap, his movements slowing but not ceasing, drawing out your pleasure until you're left trembling in the aftermath.

Finally, when your muscles have stopped clenching around him and your breaths come in shallow gasps, Remus pulls away. You're left feeling empty yet fulfilled, your body humming with satisfaction even as exhaustion begins to take hold. Every limb feels heavy, yet you're weightless, floating on the remnants of shared ecstasy.

With a final shudder, you roll onto your back, chest heaving. Remus pulls the toy away from your overstimulated clit and you gasp, both relief and loss echoing through you. Your body feels like a battleground—exhausted yet humming with residual energy, muscles relaxed but also tensed as if bracing for an aftershock.

Every nerve ending feels raw, a dull ache beginning to settle in your lower abdomen. You're distantly aware of James and Sirius moving around in the bathroom, the sounds of water running and low voices discussing something you can't quite make out.

But it's Remus' voice that draws your attention back to the present.

"You alright, love?" he asks, concern lacing his words.

You turn your head towards him, blinking slowly as you take in the sight of his worried gaze. You manage a weak smile, lifting a shaky hand to brush away a lock of hair sticking to your forehead.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice hoarse. "I... I didn't know it could be like that. Thank you."

Remus's smile is warm as he shifts next to you, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead. "It's our pleasure, love. Always."

The door creaks open again, and Sirius steps back into the room, now clad in a pair of loose boxers. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are clouded with concern. "Are you in any pain? Your hips were hurting earlier." His voice is gruff, laced with an undercurrent of something akin to fear.

You pause. Your joints were aching before you’d even got started, and there's a residual ache in your muscles, a tenderness that wasn't there before, but it's a good sort of soreness, a testament to the pleasure they'd coaxed from every fibre of your being. You nod, just once. "A bit, but that's to be expected."

A frown etches itself onto Remus's face as he processes your words, but he nods, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Alright, love," he murmurs, his voice softer now, like a balm to your frayed nerves. "How about a bath? It might help ease the tension in your muscles, and... well, you need to get clean."

You nod, surrendering to the idea. The thought of warm water enveloping your aching body brings a small measure of relief.

"We'll help you," James interjects, his voice steady despite the worry that lingers in his gaze. He moves towards you with calculated steps, testing the strength left in your limbs. His arms slide under you, careful not to jostle you too much, and he lifts you from the bed with a gentleness that belies his strength.

You don't protest, too tired to assert independence you're not sure you possess right now. You let him carry you, your body limp against his chest, as he navigates through the corridors toward the bathroom. The door swings open to reveal a tub filled with steamy water, bubbles clinging to the surface.

The water's warmth seeps into your muscles, loosening the painful knots that have formed over time. You let out a sigh, the first hint of relief washing over you. Remus hands you a washcloth, and you accept it with a nod of gratitude, cleaning yourself up.

For a few moments, all is quiet except for the gentle lapping of water against porcelain. You lean back against the tub, allowing the heat to work its magic on your body. Another sigh escapes your lips, this one less pained, more relieved.

"Feeling any better?" James' voice is soft, cautious, as if he's afraid to shatter the fragile peace that has fallen over the bathroom.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Yes," you whisper, "much better, thank you."

A silent exchange passes between you and James—a moment of understanding, an acknowledgement of the bond you share. You close your eyes again, leaning back against the tub's porcelain curve. The water's warmth seeps into your tired muscles, sapping the last vestiges of tension from your body.

"Okay, you're going to drown if you stay in there any longer," Remus jests, unplugging the drain. The water gurgles away, leaving a faint chill in its absence. You shift, suddenly aware of how refreshed your body feels—cleaned of sweat and grime, but also of some intangible weight.

James steps forward, offering a hand to steady you as you rise, muscles still weak from exertion. He wraps a towel around you, the plush fabric a stark contrast against your skin, still shivering despite the warmth of the room. Gently, he guides you to sit on the dry shower stool.

"Dry her off," Remus instructs James and Sirius, retreating to your bedroom for a moment. When he returns, he carries an armful of soft clothes—nothing fancy, just simple garments designed for comfort rather than style.

James and Sirius move with care, patting the towel against your skin with a gentleness that belies their earlier intensity. Every brush of cotton feels like a promise, a vow to keep you safe even from the smallest discomforts. You can't help but lean into their touch, finding solace in this unexpected tenderness.

The warmth of the towel envelops you as James helps you dry off, careful not to aggravate your injuries. Then he assists you in slipping on the fresh clothes Remus brought—a soft cotton shirt and lounge pants that feel like a balm to your battered skin. He lifts you up once more, carrying you back to the sanctuary of the bedroom.

As he lays you down, the soft pillows cradle your head, offering a comfort you haven't felt in what seems like forever. Sirius and Remus take their places on either side of you, their bodies a reassuring presence as they lay down with you on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asks, his voice low and soothing. His hand reaches out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. His eyes, so full of concern and something deeper, never leave yours.

"Better," you admit, offering him a small but sincere smile. The warmth of the water has seeped into your aching muscles, coaxing them into reluctant relaxation. And their presence brings a sense of calm you always crave.

A soft touch traces the curve of your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. Sirius's fingers lightly dance up and down, his movements almost reverent. "Just rest," he murmurs, the playful edge to his voice belying the gravity in his storm-grey eyes. "We'll take care of you."

James's hand finds yours, his strong fingers lacing with your own. The connection sends a current through you—subtle, reassuring. "We'll see to it," he says, his confidence a steady anchor amidst the roiling sea of uncertainty. "Whatever you need."

Emotion wells up within you, a mix of gratitude and affection that threatens to spill over. Without uttering a single word, your fingers tighten around James's hand, and your body leans instinctively into the steadiness of Remus beside you. Your head finds a resting place on his shoulder, and he responds with a comforting arm draped protectively around you. Sirius shifts closer, his presence a silent vow that no harm will come to you while they're here.

With them surrounding you, their bodies a living barrier against the chill of fear, you let your eyes drift shut. The rhythm of their breathing—steady, sure—becomes a lullaby to your frayed nerves. Their heartbeats, once distinct, now merge into a single, reassuring thrum that vibrates gently against your skin, grounding you in the reality of their care.

This is safety, you realize—a sanctuary woven from the threads of their commitment to you and each other. This is where you are cherished, not as an object to be possessed but as a person to be loved and respected. You draw in a deep breath, taking in the subtle scents that are uniquely theirs, and release it slowly, surrendering to the tranquillity that has settled around you.

#Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders au #james potter smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #moonsandmobilityaids

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1moreff-creator · 8 hours

Text

DRDT CH2 EP15 First Impressions

46 minutes. Closing Argument inbound.

It’s time.

Spoilers for CH2 EP15. CW: Hanging, murder, references to eating disorders, strangling, blood and wounds.

I actually wasn’t home when this started airing, but I got there literally five minutes after the hour so… Wee!

Before I jump in: I think the time frame of 46 minutes points to Ace NOT being the culprit, since it feels too long for just him, but it’s impossible for us to know yet. I’d say I still think he’s more likely than Eden, but only barely.

Ace: “Are you kidding me?” Isn’t that a different sprite from the end of Ep14? Hilarious if true.

“That’s so inane-“ Big vocabulary words!

Eden: “No… It must have been Ace. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure.” GIRL WHY ARE YOU SO SUSPICOISY?!?! (<- I noticed the typo but it illustrates my mental state atm).

“He was the one stalking me!” Huh? Wait so that wasn’t just Teruko? Wait wait wait how long does Eden think Ace was stalking her for?

“I always had the feeling that someone was following me around.” For how long? Ace was unconscious in the referenced scene!

[Rose agrees with Eden] Everyone’s jumping too fast I don’t think Ace is the culprit chat. It might be Edenover actually.

Ace: “That was not me, and you have no way of proving it.” I know! Everyone’s jumping way too fast to this conclusion!

Teruko: “There’s a very narrow window when the fish could’ve been taken” (Paraphrased). FISH ALIBI! But it’s way too early to be decisive, there’s forty fucking minutes left. Still, I want to know; Nico, did you eat with Hu and Eden or not?

“Any earlier, and Nico would have noticed the missing fish.” How many people know about Nico’s account btw?

Veronika: “And isn’t that why you took the fish at all? To frame Nico?” Yo that’s what I thought! Vero and I think alike! (<- This means bad things for me).

Veronika: “Yes true.” Look at that little smile :)

[J and Levi discuss Ace’s mindset to take the tape] Yeah this is the hardest part for Ace!Culprit.

Eden: “He did run off very quickly…” asjgeb (I’m losing the ability to form coherent thoughts).

“Ace had a whole day to figure out the murder.” (P.) Me and Teruko think alike again!

“Why *were* you in the gym…?” I’ve heard this question before! Teruko thinks like thebadjoe! Different context sure but they’re both smart so it checks out :)

[Levi rebuts] Yeah… the tape-taking’s still weird.

Ace: “…” Ooh, someone’s still feeling things at being defended by Levi!

“No one can prove this but yourself.” True, that’s the main issue with this line of reasoning, and why I haven’t been putting much thought into it.

“…you took the tape for first aid.” ivibells thinks like Teruko! (Check comments of linked post). Was not expecting that particular line of reasoning to show up. I wonder if Teruko’s been forced to use tape for first aid in the past? Would make sense.

“I do it all the time.” Oh yeah she does lol. Shit that happens with this format of reaction post :p

“Devil’s Pubes” Okay funny, but is “Devil’s Proof” a commonly used term? Reminder to me to look into a thing.

{Looked into it. Yes it’s a commonly used term. Proceed as normal}

“(visibly shaking)” New Whit sprite! Also super funny.

“Tch…” Ooh… New Ace sprite! And it’s cool!

Interesting lines around here, just don’t have much to say.

Teruko: “Show me your neck scars.” What the fuck is she cooking?

Ooh, now Ace is looking super sus…

There was blood on Ace’s hand, not just a saturation glitch! Good catch venus-is-thinking and accirax!

Teruko: “Even if you’ve been pretending that you’re fine, it still hurts. Right?” No genuinely where the fuck is she going with this.

I noticed this in the last episode too, seems like the dev’s grown fond of chest closeups for emotional moments. Interesting!

“…you would know to tape Arei’s hands…” Teruko this isn’t evidence. Like, you may be 100% right, but this isn’t evidence.

“That’s the dumbest bullshit I’ve ever heard!” Honestly yeah. Teruko’s reasoning here is sorta crazy.

“You seem stressed. They’re only wounds.” Veronika is being a good ally to Teruko out of nowhere but we love to see it.

Yay unhinged Vero laughter! I love that voice clip.

Nico: “…” “Sorry” as a voice clip? Huh? I thought they weren’t sorry-? I’m confused, I’ll maybe look into it after we get through the main event.

Also the more time passes without explaining the pieces of evidence left, the worse it’s looking for Ace.

[Teruko backing down.] Actually pretty cool character moment. Yeah she would understand almost dying sucks, and with the way things are going, her word would always go kinda uncontested at this point in the trial.

Ace: “Woow, Ace is actually being helpful!” The sass is immaculate. I have no idea where this trial’s going yet!

“There’s something wrong with thinking the murder was done to frame Nico.” (P.) Oh shit is he gonna bring up the fact that taking down the pulley system and hanging Arei from the swing set makes no sense in that context?

“There’s no way I could have accessed turpentine…” Ah, so not that. Bad line of reasoning my guy, imo. Still curious to see the answer to this debacle.

Hu: “You’re always attacking Nico like this!” Bro.

Nico: “I still have the turpentine in my room. I’m sorry.” Kinda huge. Also, they did apologize to Rose when they didn’t apologize to Ace. Nice character building and huge W for the Rosenico enthusiasts.

“Obviously.” First David line and he’s already calling someone an idiot! Fun stuff.

“I-di-ot.” Why does David get so many good lines?

“You are a jockey. And that’s a fact.” Charles with the groundbreaking revelations!

“That means you strong.” (P.) Yeah according to strength chart the guy is the third strongest cast member. Even above Arei. Hmmm… Foreshadowing or not?

Ace: “If it wasn’t arm wrestling against Xander, nah I’d win. Wait that’s not the point!” (P.) Fucking hilarious character this guy!

“You could have strangled Arei unconscious.” (P.) Yeah I never got the argument that turpentine was required for unconsciousness. The hanging would have covered wounds on her neck.

“Full offense, but Ace is too much of a wimp to kill with his bare hands.” (P.) David’s funny and that’s not new. What’s also not new is him being confusing even when he’s not actively stirring up shit. Do you want to lose the trial or not? Do you think Ace did it or not? Why are you like this?

Charles: “Your [David] input is unnecessary.” I’m gonna miss Charles when he gets poisoned by strychnine in CH3.

Interesting discussion around this part, I just don’t have much input and it’s been an hour and I still have 30 mins of video to go :v

Nico: “Why was Arei hanging from the swing set?” Thank you.

Teruko: “Pinning the crime on Nico is plan B but also the main plan.” (P.) I figured, but how smart are we assuming Ace to be again?

Eden: “Is Ace even capable of doing a feat of strength like that?” And THAT’s innocent behavior. It MIGHT be Aceover.

[Eden continues defending Ace] It’s Aceover.

“If you can talk, the neck wound isn’t so serious.” (P.) We’re back with another round of “character speaks with way too much authority about something super weird!” How many neck wounds have you seen, Teruko?

Rose: “Isn’t Ace kinda weak?” Why are we roasting him- Never mind it’s Ace he gets roasted daily. Proceed.

“He was beaten by Xander-“ Yeah ‘cuz Xander’s a freak- “and he’s small and doesn’t eat a lot.” (P.) Uh… Rose… did you forget what his secret was or did you not realize that this might be a bit insensitive?

J: “Seconded. He’s a scrawny little guy.” While dunking on Ace is kinda funny, if Ace can’t hoist Arei up with the spinny thing, then we’re kinda fucked unless Levi!Accomplice rises from the ashes from out of nowhere.

J: “Isn’t Ace… too stupid?” I love that this is an actual argument that not only the fandom used, but the characters brought up as well :p

Ace: “…” PFFT-

The voice acting in the following section is fucking fantastic all around. Also Ace accidentally fucking himself over out of anger at being insulted is hilarious.

Ace: “…What?” Another new sprite, and I still have no idea where this is going in terms of culprit! How?!?!

Again all the voice acting is just fantastic. And also this is kinda funny.

Charles: “I disagree with Ace.” Yeah “he’s weak and stupid” isn’t great reasoning.

Whit: “Plus you call me stupid all the time.” Charles tsundere confirmed?! (Trick question: It always has been confirmed).

Charles: “When other people [judge with intelligence bias], it truly gets on my nerves.” Interesting character tidbit here, wonder if there’s a bigger reason for that or not.

“I’m the only one reasonable enough to do that.” (P.) Oh there was a reason PFFT-

“Will you test his IQ…?” (P.) Charles really hit them with “nice argument senator, why don’t you back it up with a source?”

[Charles and Levi team up to explain jockeying] Interesting team up, and good points! I guess Teruko’s been hogging that brain cell a bit too much these last few episodes, so it makes sense for it to be Charles’ turn, huh?

Whit: “The Kuning-Dooger effect…” Charles: “Not what it’s called.” HHAHAHA!

Charles: “Ace is the killer. Don’t refute me unless you like being incorrect.” (P.) Wow that is certainty goddamn!

“Then simply do not be wrong in the future.” Yo why’s he so funny for?

My brain is kinda fried as Ace and Levi continue to argue the point, but “between you and me, we both know who’s really a murderer” is kinda crazy.

[Non-Stop Debate] WOOO!

[Truth Bullet: Laundry Ball] Oh? Are we gonna talk about getting the rope over the rafters? Or am I wrong to assume that’s how this was used?

“In the context of Nico’s murder” (P.) Love the little arrow to Nico xD

“Nico hung Ace by stepping on a stepladder…” (P.) I think I know where this is going!

[Truth Bullet Fired] YEEAH BABY!

We’re putting the image in a fifth post! >:D

“If you starch it up with laundry starch…” (P.) Aww… there goes thebadjoe’s idea on the starch. I kinda liked it, but this makes sense too. At least I called it as a possibility in that post I linked before! Kinda…

“How could I have thrown it?” (P.) Slingshot idea coming in? I don’t know how the episode still has like twenty minutes left if that’s the case. Maybe the Closing Argument is much longer than I’m expecting?

Arturo: “But there’s other evidence you threw it up there.” Oh yeah I kinda forgot the lights were part of it :v

Ace: “Bullshit.” It’s Aceover. Breakdown! Breakdown! (<- Reference to the theory that the JoJo’s song from the playlist refers to Ace).

The Ace shouting scene (that doesn’t narrow it down but you know what I mean) is fantastic, since the voice acting is on point as usual. We’re really spoiled in that aspect. And Ace’s victim complex is on full display, it’s really cool.

ARGUMENT ARMAMENT?!?!?! OH IT’S SO OVER! The art is really cool! :D

By the way, I’m gonna call that the final attack will be the elastic band thing Ace took from the gym in CH2 EP2 for the slingshot idea on the ball of clothes.

All the lines here are pretty standard, but I like them!

[Using a slingshot] Wooo! Last minute theory was correct! Shoutout that Reddit user who figured this out around the same time I did (again linked in the “select two” post I’ve already put a link to). Great minds think alike!

Teruko: “It’d be impossible for anyone to throw the weight…” (P.) Yeah right who would believe such a thing (<- Genuinely argued Eden could have potentially done it).

“Specifically, you could have made a slingshot out of this.” [Shows elastic band] Teruko where were you keeping that? Up your ass? Who brought this to the trial room?

[Levi explains, mechanism shown] Oh that mechanism makes significantly more sense than anything I was coming up with :v Still got three main idea though!

Ace: “You’re lying to verify Teruko’s made-up story!” Oh oh, someone’s desperate…

By the way the glove has yet to be explained and I find this very funny.

Ace: “Where would I have stored the water jugs?” (P.) …In the playground with literally the entire rest of the mechanism?

“SHUT UP, ACE!” SLAY TERUKO!!!

“We determine who lives and dies by majority vote…” (P.) New sprite? New cool sprite? Also, this line reminds me; do y’all think Teruko will received two votes again? I think she will.

“The point of the trial…” Also a new sprite I think? And I’m loving Teruko here, but how is this gonna lead to a Closing Argument? :v

“Are you silent now?” So many new sprites! New Ace sprite right after too.

[Ace giving up] Didn’t wanna comment because augh… this hurts… My heart goes out to all you Ace stans out there. I know you guys have a reputation as some of the most dedicated fans around, so I hope y’all are doing alright. I liked Ace quite a bit too, so this also hurts a lot on my end, but damn…

“Who do you think I am, you?!” Well at least he got one last good shout at Hu in :,D

Veronika: “What do you mean?”

Ace: “I’m definitely gonna die if I don’t escape. Everyone hates me, right?” (P.) Oh, wasn’t Veronika who told him that? That constantly picking fights would get him killed? I wonder how she’s gonna feel about that, if it’s explored. Genuinely curious, Vero’s hard to read.

“Veronika was right.” Yeah I really should let the dialogue play more often, huh :p? What I said stands though.

“A part of me wishes Nico had succeeded.” (P.) AGH!-

“But still!” New sprites going crazy!

This entire trauma dump is more or less what I imagined Ace’s motive would be. Super sad still, goddamn I can’t wait for his Bonus Episode if he gets one. My guy needs to talk to Good Person Mai stat.

“…I’m a coward who can’t fight my own fate.” FATE THEMES GO INSANE!!!

Eden: “But that’s so selfish!” Man I’m actually really glad I can stop reading Eden’s lines with suspicion now. I always kinda felt bad about it even if I thought the evidence against her merited it :v

[J’s response] You know, accirax and venus have been counting the amount of times J has been anti-murder and they were (as usual) cooking hard. I don’t know why she gets all the “murder’s bad” lines, but it helps build my “J will become primary support” agenda so.

“I know that.” Auch.

“Arei… She was a piece of shit, too.” Is he about to reveal he heard the last of the Arei-David conversation.

Also “good person” drop! Probably one of the last of the chapter!

“But at least she was trying. […] I really am a piece of shit, huh?” So. Much. Pain.

“Oh my. How tragic.” Holy shit Veronika smiling after no one denies Ace sucking is crazy. I know it’s far from the most concerning thing she’s done but this feels so sinister. I guess she doesn’t even care that she might’ve planted the idea of murder in Ace’s mind, huh? I love her <3

“… just vote already!” Are we even gonna have a Closing Argument at this point? Who the hell is gonna ask for a full recap? Eden for the memory of Arei?

Teruko: “Allow me to go over the case…” Ah alright. Protag knows she’s gotta protag I guess xD

“Sorry. But it has to be done.” Okay she actually has trope knowledge what is this.

4 Minutes for the Closing Argument… about the same as last time I think? Maybe a bit shorter?

Also the glove is just straight up not going to be explained huh. I imagine the scuffs on the floor will be shown but you know.

[Ace overhearing Eden+Arei] Btw I know some people missed this: the note sent to Arei explicitly mentions what secret Eden got, which didn’t get brought up in Arei-David. Yes, Ace has to have overheard both of them.

“He was originally planning to kill Eden.” …Nice argument senator why don’t you back it up with a source?

Like genuinely where did that deduction come from? Again, Eden never said how long she felt she was being followed for. It could have only started after this. It’s apparently not wrong, but it’s still a pretty large assumption on Teruko’s part.

[Mechanism Images] Yoo high quality ball over the rafters picture!!! It became canon!!!

[Jug picture] Oh that’s how that worked. Yeah I always had a bit of trouble imagining exactly how the jugs would have been tied to the rope.

[Arei follows the note] Oh she went out without her glove! She just never put it on that morning! For no particular reason! That is the funniest possible conclusion to that particular mystery xD

“Ace cut her free…” …With? I guess he just bit the rope lmao. (He probably just had like a knife or something.)

[Ace over the swing set] PFFT- Okay to be honest, the question of “how do you even physically get Arei up there?” had always bothered me a bit (it’s a lot harder than you might think to visualize), and I was expecting it to be a kind of “don’t think about it too hard” situation. But seeing this as the actual solution is fantastic.

[Trial Close]

Wait are we not gonna talk about the- the scuffs on the floor? I- Wait- How did-

I guess I was right to just assume they were supposed to be a vague indication of struggle as opposed to anything more specific xD

General Thoughts

I feel a sense of… weightlessness. It’s over. The mystery’s over. Levi!Accomplice, Eden!Disguise, J-Arei Swap (I’m assuming that’s dead don’t quote me on it), J!Culprit via the screening room with the remote, “David manipulated someone into murder,” all the other theories that came of this… all shall pass on as fun AU ideas that never came to be. Alas, Ace!Culprit reigns supreme.

The episode was awesome. Less of a roller coaster like the last few have been, more like a linear plunge into sadness. I’ve run out of words to describe how incredible these episodes are, but all the praise I gave the other episodes applies to this one as well.

The star is obviously Ace, and man, despite how horribly sad the Ace fans must be feeling, at least we got fed this chapter. Genuinely felt bad for him even though as J said what he did is pretty unjustifiable. So many interesting things to explore all around for him, and quite a few other characters as well. Just… a feast. I’ve been considering making a fully cohesive post talking about the entirety of CH2 PT2 in more detail than I’ve gone over in these reaction posts, and I’m pretty sure this episode cemented that as a really solid idea.

Theory Discussion

Well the crime’s solved, but since I am the “Local Min Jeung Kinnie,” maybe it’d be appropriate to grade myself on how well my theories panned out?

I will skip talking about the Nico-Ace situation because my ideas for it were completely insane as a result of the vast amounts of evidence that just… didn’t matter. I was right that Nico was the only attacker, but I shared this opinion with like half the fandom at least, so.

The Arei murder is the main course, and frankly… I’d say I did pretty well! All things considered.

Looking back at my Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice theory from a year ago, although I got the complete wrong culprit and threw in an accomplice that didn’t exist, the method itself was strikingly similar provided you correct the oddities that removing an accomplice brings. Hell, a lot of the deductions from my very first post on this came true. Crime happened in the morning, ball of clothes over the rafters for the lights and setting up the pulley system, done with the handlebars of the spinny thing (kinda missed what the tape was for, but at least I knew it was there), water jugs to weigh down Arei, scuffs on the floor indicating a struggle to subdue Arei before hanging her, and while the exact method of stopping the fall was a bit different, using a stopper rope is similar enough to tying a knot that I’m willing to give myself partial credit.

I still stand by the fact that, at the time, it was unreasonable to assume Ace could have picked up the tape. Yes, it’s what happened; doesn’t mean that it seemed horrendously unlikely with what we had at the time. Still, once Ace was officially brought up as a suspect in Ep14, I’m going to give myself partial credit for last-minute switching (sort of I was only suspecting Ace over Eden by a hair) to the real culprit and figuring out the slingshot trick alongside the aforementioned Reddit user.

So, I’ll say I passed! Am I bragging? Maybe. Deal it.

You truly were magnificent, DRDT CH2 case. I shall never forget you for as long as I live.

If you made it this far, congrats. Now let us cry together, for our favorite horse boy is about to leave us forever… after he says his secret quote (which is probably next episode) and the Bonus Episode with Mai hopefully.

(Dammit it that means we still won’t get context on the Eden Mai quote I was kinda looking forward to that T_T)

Thanks for reading! Bye!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt spoilers #ace markey #teruko tawaki #liveblogging

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