#though they're fairly minor

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

ATC rewrite part 1 outline

The vote was 6-2 in favor of sharing, not counting my vote, so it's under a readmore for those who want to wait until I've finished the first chapter.

My outlines vary from story to story and they're usually quite odd, and take more of a condensed story format than a traditional outline with the bullet points and such. This truly is an outline. It reads like a story. I've embellished on parts that I currently have, glossed over the parts that I don't but know they need to be there.

For those who are new, or followed me from Flipping Legacies and never realized I wrote for other fandoms: Percy Jackson was my first fandom. I started All Together, Cousins in 2013, wrote about 80K words for it in two years, got burned out big time for Percy Jackson stuff. Technically speaking I updated it in 2018, but I'd completely lost the plot of it and relied on subplots and characters to keep it moving and it just. Wasn't fun. And around the time I started Flipping Legacies (in 2020) I'd also taken a look at ATC and kind of. Winced. You can tell a 15 year old wrote it. Happy ten year anniversary, old friend, the fic that haunts me in the night--I'm finally back.

I love the premise of it, but it's kind of like a 1940s house. The walls are cracking, the wiring needs to be updated, the plumbing needs to not be lead. It needs some work. A lot of work. And here's the start of it.

🗲

Thalia’s ten and Jason’s two when she snatches him out of Hera’s grasp, threatens a goddess with grievous bodily harm and bloody revenge schemes and runs like the proverbial bat out of hell. She tires quickly. It’s winter. They’re two Big Three demigods. Cops are not kind to homeless people, shelters are not kind to kids, and the system is even crueler.

Luke Castellan is a blessing, and she thanks Hermes every damn day for him. He’s great at getting out of tight spots, talented with a sword, gentle with her brother, and willing to fight her over what’s best.

He’s been on his own for three years now. He knows what he’s doing a lot better than Thalia does, in terms of actual survival. They bunk down in one of his old hiding spots and gear up and she’s so exhausted that she falls asleep almost immediately, Jason sprawled across her chest.

Never again. She’ll never again let Hera get that close. The sight of her brother in that woman’s arms will haunt her for the rest of her life.

She urges Luke to move faster, the next day, to get them farther away from the Wolf House, and they have a screaming match about I want to be as far away from this place as possible and Let’s not fucking pass out about it, that does nobody any good! and also What if she tries to take him again and Well they’re gods, it’s not like physical distance means anything to them.

Jason isn’t happy about the loud noise of a fourteen year old boy and a daughter of thunder going at it. That’s finally what gets them to shut up. Every demigod she’s ever met has backed down immediately after watching her zap her surroundings when she gets frustrated.

Luke has rubber soles, a steel spine, and a golden heart. How lucky is she, that he’s the full range of conductivity?

The positive and the ground, and together they can move mountains—or make sure that one little boy is safe and happy as is possible for a son of Jupiter.

🗲

Thalia’s twelve and Jason’s just turned four when Luke goes into a cursed mansion and never comes out again.

She straps Jason to her chest and circles the burned out husk of the mansion for any sign, any clue, any remnant of her friend and partner in raising both Jason and hell. She searches the house, then starts working her way out steadily until its more than a mile from the mansion in all directions and she has to admit defeat.

Luke is gone. Luke is dead. He wanted to see his future and Thalia wishes futilely that she had argued more with him about it.

She clings to Jason and weeps bitter tears. Then she pulls herself together and marches on. Anywhere but here. Tennessee, she’s heard, is hot and muggy this time of year, but Thalia feels like she’ll never be warm again.

Meanwhile, Luke has the shield of aegis, a lot more issues with the gods, a golf club, and a blonde little girl terrified of spiders.

🗲

Thalia’s just turned thirteen and Jason’s still four when she snaps her gum obnoxiously and says to the cashier who asked her why she’s not in school, “I’m seventeen, I have a half day before I go to work, and he’s four, dipshit. Now pack it up, I haven’t got all day.”

Her heart thuds in her ears, but Disinterested Teenager is the name of the game, and she’s the godsdamn master of it. Thick eyeliner, chunky mascara, and fake piercings do the rest to convince them. They’ve played this game a thousand times.

Three Big Three kids in a corner store is too much temptation for the monsters, though, and that’s how she meets Sally Fucking Jackson, who’s clear-sighted in every sense of the word.

🗲

Sally is a badass—not a word that Thalia applies to just anyone. Thalia also can’t stand to be around her for too long, because the woman has sacrificed everything to try and raise her son safely.

Seeing herself reflected—mother and son, sister and brother, who would kill or die or be abused to keep him safe and happy and well—is an ache like the cold. And she wishes Beryl had tried.

Is it a crime, to wish that she’d had herself or a Sally to protect her? Thalia thinks not, but it hurts much worse than stealing. She giggles at Jason and Percy arguing over cookies, swiftly removes Jason from Percy when it becomes clear that two small, angry Big Three children wreak havoc on indoor plumbing and HVAC systems, and high tails it out of there with Jason in tow when Sally offers them a place to stay.

Luke survived two years with her and Jason. Sally has her own son to think about living for.

Her eyes burn. She takes a deep breath and marches on.

🗲

Thalia’s fifteen and Jason’s seven and Thalia needs all her fingers to count how many issues she’s got going on currently.

It’s the middle of summer and it’s hotter than Hades’s asscrack, so she thought, “oh hey, it’s not like we’re not already nomadic, let’s go north for the summer and see Yellowstone and such.”

Yellowstone was great. Grizzly bears hate everything pretty equally, but avoid Thalia and Jason like the plague. That means that grizzly bears will happily maul a monster and leave them be. Thalia would like to stay here forever, please and thank you.

But then there was the fucking Fury that chased them to (not quite) hell and back, and Thalia packed them up and ran so far that they wound up in the mountains before they stopped for breath, and then hung out with the Hyperborean giants for a while. Hot Furies and freezing Hyperborean giants don’t mix well, apparently. And then Thalia figured, well, if she was already on the mountains, might as well see what the West Coast has to offer them.

The Fury caught up to them right as they were crossing the Nevada/California border, and Thalia just wants to say that it’s completely ridiculous how hot Nevada is. No place needs to be that hot during the day and that cold at night. A week later and they’ve run so far west that Thalia can taste the salt from the ocean in the air.

They’re out of places for them to run.

Thalia has silver plated hunting knives, handles wrapped with shredded old tires and fabric cushioning the edges. She’s blasted the Fury back with lightning so many times her hair is permanently standing on end and her fingers tingle.

There’s a girl in a purple shirt on the edges of the fight. Her mouth is dropped open like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

Thalia has a few other things to worry about.

Then the girl comes back with more people in purple shirts and—and they’re armed. Armed with things that can actually hurt a monster.

The Fury shrieks and dives at them and the girl shouts, “Turtle formation!” and shields close around them on all sides.

What Thalia wouldn’t give for a shield. Or a proper weapon.

The Fury rakes its claws across the shields, clambers all over them like a really big, really weird looking lizard, and then almost gets skewered by a sword that pokes itself between a minuscule crack between the shields.

Thalia braces herself between Jason and the Fury, waiting for it to realize that there’s easier prey. Jason, weaponless, hugs her from behind and buries his face in her back.

She breathes deeply. She shivers in spite of the hot air—

A cold wind from the east. The Fury rises, sees them in the open, launches—

There’s a tendril that feels like lightning, a hot line of power. Her gut clenches. Jason shudders so hard he almost yanks her off her feet. The sky goes from blue to black and raging in an instant, and the thunderbolt that comes from the sky is as thick around as Thalia is, blinding and deafening everyone in the vicinity. The Fury vanishes in the lightning’s blaze, naught but golden dust and ash on the ground.

Thalia almost passes out. Her ears are ringing and she can barely see.

The girl in the purple shirt is very tall, Thalia thinks, before she realizes her knees have buckled under her and that the girl is probably a normal height. She’s saying something that Thalia can’t hear, but she can hear Jason yelling something indistinctly. She gropes around behind her, grabbing him.

“He’s my brother,” she says, loudly enough that she feels her own chest rumble. She might be too loud, but she’s guessing otherwise with how useless her own ears are. “He’s annoying but he’s my brother, don’t kill him.”

Jason socks her in the shoulder, so at least someone can hear something.

The girl says something, looking at Thalia. She thinks that the word take was somewhere in there, but reading lips has never been her forte. “You’re not taking him,” she says loudly. “I threatened to destroy Olympus the last time someone tried taking him from me, and I’m still not joking about that.”

“You did what,” was clearly audible, so that must have been screamed in her ear.

“Oh yes,” Thalia says with probably more satisfaction than is wise, considering Jason shaking her and the girl in the purple shirt looking at her with wide eyes. Her vision swims, but it’s been five years and the vicious satisfaction has not yet dimmed. “Dearly beloathed stepmother tried stealing you from mom. I fried her ass, grabbed you, told her if she tried that again I’d do my damnedest to bring Olympus to its knees, and ran. Haven’t seen her in five years.”

The girl, wide-eyed, brings both index fingers together parallel, and clearly says, “Both.”

Oh. Taking them both. That was fine. Nothing short of Tartarus could hold them captive together.

“That’s fine,” Thalia agrees, and immediately passes the fuck out.

🗲

Thalia wakes up with Jason on her right, looking like he’d been slapped with a live flounder while she was out, a blond man with a circular shield in front of them, and a pounding headache.

“Thals,” Jason whispers. “Can you hear me yet?”

She nods, moving her hand enough that he can feel it.

“Is there a monster that imitates dead people?”

What.

The blond in front of them—shielding them, in the most literal sense of the word—glances back just long enough to check on them and it’s long enough to see his profile and what the fuck.

“Luke?” she breathes, propping herself up on an elbow.

“What in the gods be damned Hades are you doing in California?” Luke hisses. “This place is like monster central, don’t you know better?”

“We didn’t exactly have much of a choice in the matter,” Thalia says dryly. “What are you doing alive?”

He glances back at them again, a crooked grin on his face. “You know me,” he says. “Always escaping by the skin of my teeth. Can we have this conversation later, without weird, culty demigods trying to grab you guys?”

Thalia looks up at the swirling clouds above them. She hates to admit it, but— “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Oh for—“ Luke exclaims. “Jason, buddy, hold this.” He unlatches the shield from his arm and passes it off to her brother. “You can terrify us with it later, until then, just keep pointing it at the purple people.” Then he reaches down and scoops her up with a huff of air. “You need to eat more,” Luke tells her as an aside. “Jason, north and east. I’ll follow.”

“Sorry I just spent the last two weeks fighting off a fucking Fury,” Thalia says sarcastically. “I shall endeavor to take a break and eat a hamburger every six to eight hours as my body demands—except wait, no, I can’t, because I have a literal demon from hell that wants to kill me because I had the audacity to be born.”

“You couldn’t have fried it before today?” Luke asks.

“You think I didn’t fry it like fifty times?” Thalia says. “You know, I know we’ve been apart for a couple of years because I thought you were dead, but I didn’t realize my temper was forgettable.”

Jason’s giggling in front of them.

“It’s really not,” Luke says, grinning. He looks back, even though Thalia can clearly see the purple people, as he called them, not following them. He sobers. “I looked for you.”

“I looked for your body,” Thalia says.

“I’m sorry.”

“Be sorrier.”

“Hey, who’s carrying who?”

“I fried a Fury. When you fry a Fury and don’t pass out, then you can talk.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He sounds unimpressed, but she looks, and there’s both amusement and awe in his eyes. “I’ll take that under consideration. But really. I’m sorry. I knew that when I couldn’t find you, you’d think I was dead and I didn’t do more to let you know otherwise.”

Thalia wrestles with her temper and her hurt. “So why didn’t you?”

Luke shakes his head. “The explosion? Was my fault. It was the only way I could see myself getting out alive.”

Thalia remembers the old house suddenly exploding, going up like someone lit an entire matchbox on fire with Greek fire. There’s a certain shade of lime green that she hates to this day, and it’s entirely because of that.

“I got literally blown out of the house, managed to land in a dumpster and not on the metal roof next to it,” Luke continues. “Badly injured, vaguely flash fried, I’d broken my leg on the way out. I laid in the dumpster with some ambrosia trying get myself to heal for at least a day.”

Yikes. Big Yikes.

“By the time I managed to hobble out of the dumpster, our camp was gone. I went to the city to get some mortal bandages, trying not to burn myself out on ambrosia, and I went down an alleyway. There was a weird noise, and I wanted to investigate before I tried bunking down there for the night, and the next thing I know, there’s this little girl trying to take my kneecaps out with a hammer.”

Luke shakes his head, grinning to himself. “Her name’s Annabeth, she’s a daughter of Athena. She’s eight.”

What were the odds? Probably basically zero.

“What?” Thalia says.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “Nuts, right? Pretty sure either Hermes or Athena—or both—were keeping her safe. I convinced her I wasn’t a monster and got her to travel with me. She’s strong, so it was tough while I healed.”

“And then, like six months later, Clarisse found us,” Luke says. “Daughter of Ares, also really strong. The three of us racked up almost as many as the three of us did.”

Thalia winces.

Luke goes quiet. “There’s a camp, in New York,” he says slowly, “specifically built to handle and protect demigods.”

Thalia lifts her head.

“They send out satyrs to try and find demigods before—well, before we get overrun by monsters. And the three of us, roaming around the New England area with a horde of monsters on our tails? It was enough to attract some attention, especially when we were in New York City. Clarisse...she didn’t make it. But Annabeth did.”

Thalia couldn’t breathe.

“She’s safe, back at camp.”

“What are you not saying?” Thalia demanded. “That’d be the first thing out of your mouth. Why would we not be safe?”

“There’s a pact that your dad made, way back after World War II,” Luke says. “No more kids from the Big Three. The crack that you made, about having the audacity of being born? He broke his oath. But he’s immortal, so you pay the price.”

Luke twitches a bit, so Thalia holds her breath until she doesn’t have enough air to be mad.

“The campers there haven’t seen a child of the Big Three ever. Chiron, the centaur who runs the place, hasn’t seen a child of the Big Three since World War II. You guys die too fast. And, even worse, there’s a prophecy about one turning sixteen and potentially destroying the world.”

“Luke,” Thalia says, very calmly. “I need you to put me down.”

Luke sets her on the ground with gratifying speed.

Thalia draws her hunting blades and stabbed them into the ground and made ladders of electricity between them to try and not send off stray pieces of lightning to everyone else around her.

Thalia rests her head against the humming pommels. “Two years ago, Jason and I were in a corner store in New York when monsters attacked.”

Luke stills.

“I’d kicked butt not an hour prior, but it turns out that three Big Three kids is too tantalizing a prospect.”

Luke gasps. “How—“

“Poseidon had a son with a badass woman,” Thalia laughs hollowly. “His taste in women is impeccable, I’ll give him that. Percy’s eight. Him and Jason almost blew out the plumbing in the building arguing over a cookie, so I knew we couldn’t stay.”

“You—I’ve never heard you describe someone as badass, much less a mortal,” Luke says.

Thalia—sighs. “Yeah. She’s sacrificed damn near everything to keep him safe. I can respect that.”

She hauls in a deep breath and forces herself standing. She sways, her vision swims a little, but worlds better than earlier. She pulls her knives out of the ground, cleans off the dirt, and sheathes them. Luke stands behind her, to the left, arms hovering.

Gods, she’s missed him.

“I’ve missed you,” she says. Like a phantom limb.

“I’m so glad you’re still okay,” Luke says.

🗲

Luke goes back to Camp Half-Blood, quest unfulfilled, and brings Annabeth out of the borders. Chiron and Grover come with them, and it’s a very nervous daughter and son of the sky god that they meet.

“Annabeth, Clarisse, Grover, the first bunch I ran herd on,” Luke says fondly, ruffling Jason’s hair. He pats the tree next to him. “Thalia, Jason, this is Clarisse, Annabeth, Grover, and Chiron.”

Annabeth scowls at Jason first, then Thalia. “I’m coming with you,” she announces.

Grover let out a quiet sound of horror. Which, fair. Cute kid, but Thalia had enough work with Jason, and she refuses to endanger a third strong demigod again.

“Um, no,” Luke says firmly, but gently. “You’re not coming with us.”

“You’re not coming with Jason and I, either,” Thalia says, cutting that off at the trunk.

Luke whirls around. “I just—“

“We had to watch you die once already,” Thalia says icily. Annabeth goes white. “Forgive me for not wanting to repeat the experience, with no guarantee that you’d appear out of nowhere three years later.” She tucks her brother closer to her. She softens, just a bit. “We’ll visit,” she promises.

“You would not stay?” Chiron asks.

Thalia glances at the demigods on the other side of the barrier. “Stay in one place that’s constantly watched by the gods. We’d be dead on the inside of a month. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”

She sees the brief look of confusion on Chiron’s face and immediately glares at Luke. “You didn’t tell them?”

“It’s none of their business if you’re not going to stay anyway,” Luke says practically. “Annie knows. Clarisse didn’t. I’m pretty sure all they can smell is that you’re strong demigods, not your parentage.”

Thalia eyes them dubiously. “Thalia, daughter of Zeus,” she introduces herself shortly. “And my full-blooded brother, Jason. I’m fifteen and I threatened Hera with the end of Olympus five years ago if she tried taking him from me. I suddenly see why she took my threat seriously.”

Grover chokes on a laugh. Annabeth kicks him in the shin and scrutinizes Thalia. “The gods are better than the other options,” she says seriously. “But kicking them probably wouldn’t hurt. Much.”

Thalia grins at her. She looks at Luke. “You’re right, I like her.”

“So I can come with you,” Annabeth says confidently.

“No,” Thalia says. “But, even if me kicking them doesn’t work next year, I have a mission for you.”

Luke frowns at her in askance.

“In like, four to seven years, Beth, this will be very important, so listen carefully,” Thalia says slowly. “There will be a boy who comes to camp, probably beat to Hades and back and probably grieving. I need you to befriend him.”

Annabeth looks puzzled. Chiron looks politely confused. Grover looks utterly befuddled. Luke looks like she’d slapped him with a hagfish and then offered him some sunflowers: astonished, disgusted, and delighted, all at the same time. Jason starts laughing.

“Thals,” Luke says, obviously trying not to laugh.

Annabeth looks at Luke and then back at Thalia. “It would be a prank on them?”

“It would be a kick in the face,” Thalia corrects. “He’s nice. Perhaps a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but he respects the women in his life.”

She considers this. “Four to seven years? I’d be twelve to fifteen?”

Thalia nods.

“Okay,” Annabeth decides. “If I don’t like him I can kick him though, right?”

“He’d probably deserve it,” Thalia agrees. “But don’t do it if he doesn’t deserve it.”

🗲

Thalia’s fifteen and Jason’s eight and they’re in Tennessee when an old dude named Fred approaches them. “That wasn’t very nice to set them up like that. Funny, though.”

Thalia glances to the side and sees the golden sunshine yellow of his iris. “They have a habit of setting us up to fulfill their rivalries. I’m just breaking the cycle.”

Jason peers around her from the other side to see who she’s talking to. He seems puzzled at who the stranger is, but cautiously says, “Hey, cousin.”

A hilariously safe bet.

Apollo seems to thinks so, too, because he guffaws once before he says hi back.

“But seriously, the kid’s got enough problems, you want to add to his list?” Apollo says.

“Luke was the best thing that ever happened to me, short of Jason,” Thalia says. “Someone who will argue with him rather than agreeing to everything will do them both a world of good.” She pauses. “I’m not the child of the prophecy. Am I.”

It’s not a question.

“You could be,” Apollo says finally. “Basically any time after you turn sixteen. But while some Old things are stirring, none of them are close to waking. There’s nothing happening that would aid you in Olympus’s fall, and nothing that would topple it that you’d be able to preserve.”

He pauses. “Between you and me?”

“And Jason,” Thalia says.

“And Jason,” Apollo agrees. “Prophecies can be fulfilled in a lot of odd ways. Ideas, you know, last beyond a mortal lifetime. Maybe you preemptively introducing that troublemaking pair will destroy an idea that Olympus holds sacred. Some things need to be changed, otherwise it will spell our end.”

Thalia glances at him and quirks a sarcastic smile. “Good thing I’m dyslexic.”

“Yes,” Apollo agrees, completely serious in the face of her joke. “Good thing that you are.”

She covers Jason’s eyes as Apollo goes supernova and they’re left alone in Nashville.

🗲

Jason’s eight and today is Thalia’s birthday, and Sally has taken the four of them out to a restaurant to celebrate when everything…

Well.

Thalia would say when everything goes to shit but it’s really when they reached the proverbial fork in the road. Or perhaps, when everything changes.

It starts with the restaurant’s door chiming open, with a woman’s gracious voice waving off the waitstaff saying, “My party is already here, thank you.” And she walks closer to them, a brown woman in a white business suit with a shirt that shimmers blue and green and purple. Her brown heels clack on the stone pavers that make up the floor.

She stops at their table and slides into the booth next to Thalia.

Across from her, Sally picks up her steak knife in a move that’s undeniably a threat. Thalia fucking loves her.

“Hera,” Thalia says evenly, making a show of going back to her menu. “I know immortals have a screwy sense of time, but I do believe you’ve managed to pick the worst possible time to have a confrontation. Congratulations. That takes some true talent.”

Hera reaches out and snags Sally’s menu that Sally is completely ignoring in favor of glaring metaphorical daggers at the goddess while threatening her with a steak knife. Thalia absently sends a prayer to both Apollo and Hermes. They both cover such a wide variety pack of stuff that one of them should cover badass but also kind and occasionally stupid mortals.

“On the contrary,” Hera says. “I believe this is the perfect time. We are constrained by polite society, so we must at least appear to get along.”

Thalia lowers the menu to look at Hera, and then swing her gaze at Sally. Hera lowers her stolen menu at the long look, and then sees the attempted threat. “Ah. Well. Some of us are constrained by polite society. I see that others don’t apply.”

Thalia takes a deep breath. It feels like it goes deeper than usual, somehow, like her guts have made way for her lungs. And, like magic, Thalia’s water tips over without anyone touching it and spills all over Hera.

Thalia hasn’t got a drop on her.

That—it felt like she did that, not Percy. Percy looks almost as startled as Thalia feels, safely sandwiched in between Sally, the table, and the wall. Hera makes a disgusted noise, taps her fingers along the menu, and the water vanishes. Thalia reaches out and rights the cup slowly.

“Lady, you’re probably the only one in polite society,” Thalia says bluntly. “Say your piece and get out.”

“Very well,” Hera says. “When I tried to take Jason six years ago, you told me that you would destroy Olympus if I succeeded to get him back. Does that still hold?”

“Yes,” Thalia snarls. Her fingers clench the menu in her hands and it feels like she’s holding onto a live wire now.

“Is that the only reason why you would even try?” Hera presses.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hera,” Thalia says. Her voice slides into a lower register that’s meant to be heard over a horde of monsters, but she still only speaks just above a whisper. “I have only ever wanted to be left alone by you people. Leave me and mine be and we won’t have an issue.”

“You and yours being?”

“The people at this table and Luke and his second family—Annabeth, Clarisse, Grover,” Thalia says. “Is that your game? You want to see who you can fuck over without me triggering the prophecy?”

Hera goes silent and Thalia knows she’s hit the nail on the head.

“You listen well, Hera, goddess of marriage,” Thalia says. “If I found out one of my people died because you’re so short sighted and possessive of a husband that has never and will never respect you, I will bring the prophecy down on all our heads, chop you into a gazillion pieces as Zeus did to Kronos, and toss you into Tartarus myself and let you rot with grandfather. If you insist on sharing his mental issues, you can share an unliving space with him as well.”

Hera’s jaw is clenched and her lips pursed together.

“How about,” Thalia continues, “you learn about this novel thing called communication, and possibly divorce. It’s the twenty first century, step mother, aunt, cunt, whatever you’d like me to call you. Women have rights, women have therapists, and women have divorce lawyers. Zeus was around for my childhood, I actually know the decrepit prick. I can’t imagine being around him for three thousand years and not straight up murdering him. If you have an issue with me besides me being born—which, I’ll remind you, I actually had no say in—not kidnapping my brother is a great way to start a conversation.”

Jason chokes on a laugh about reminding the goddess of marriage that she has no say in herself being born. Thalia silently tells him to shut the fuck up before Hera remembers his existence.

“The gods are not allowed—“

“Then it’s a great thing that you’ve never had demigod kids, so you can safely interact with demigods that are not your kids. Which is all of them.”

Thalia pauses. “Goodbye. I’m celebrating surviving to sixteen. You are not invited.” She waved down a server. “Could I get another water? I was really thirsty,” she says guilelessly.

Sally visibly swallows a laugh as Hera rises. Definitely not running from being threatened with more ice water on her suit. Nope. Definitely not.

“Your disrespect,” Hera says severely, “is only matched by your loyalty.”

And then she vanishes.

“Well, that went swimmingly,” Thalia says brightly. “I want lad naa.”

Sally sets down the knife carefully and then rests her head on the table.

🗲

(the mental image is too funny: a pristine business woman, a teenager with the nineties grunge aesthetic, two eight year old boys, and a mom in mom clothing sit down in a Siam restaurant.)

🗲

It’s when Thalia delivers them all safely back to the Jacksons’ apartment that she asks Percy quietly, “The water spilling. Was that—?”

“It wasn’t me,” Percy says uncertainly. “I dunno. It didn’t feel like me.”

“It felt like I did it,” Thalia says. “But that’s not my power.”

“Maybe the air pushed it over,” Jason says.

Thalia pauses. The air is their domain. She doesn’t remember any weird gusts of wind, but she was also very focused on not frying someone and also making sure Hera didn’t do something stupid, like try kidnapping Jason. Again.

“Maybe,” she says. But she doubts it.

🗲

Thalia’s seventeen and Jason is nine when they see the Jacksons again, a whole year and a half later. They celebrate Percy’s tenth birthday in a cabin on Montauk, and while Thalia’s supervising the boys playing in the surf, she can hear...something. In the cabin.

Sally is taking a well-deserved nap, or she’s supposed to be. Instead, she sits on the bed and bows her head over a head of dark, curly hair, attached to a tanned man kneeling in front of her.

Thalia shuts the door again just as quickly and guns it.

Later, she thinks, and wonders—that’s real devotion she saw there. That was I missed you and come with me? and he is beautiful. She naps under the sea of stars, one boy under each arm, and she can rest easy knowing that neither can be stolen away without her knowing immediately.

There’s a shush of displaced sand, and Percy shifts under her arm, and she cracks an eye open. She assumes its Sally, but its Poseidon, who rests a large hand on Percy’s forehead and looks awed and wistful.

He sees that she’s awake, a split second after she’s seen the heartache and longing on his face, and smiles at her ruefully. Thank you, he mouths, and dissolves into a salty sea breeze.

🗲

There’s an entire pack of hellhounds to deal with in the morning. Thalia picks Jason up with one arm and Percy with the other and hurls them both into the shack calling itself a cabin with Sally.

There’s a lot of yelling about her decision, but Percy has never been trained, Sally is a mortal, and Jason is nine. She can do this.

She can do this, right?

She draws her hunting knives and her power up from her gut and they crackle with lightning immediately.

Thalia gives them the run around, around and around and around the beach and over and behind the shack and into the surf. She’s dusted four already, starting to drag a little with the many scrapes and scratches and near misses that she’s acquired, and regrets taking off her leather jacket. She stabs another and somersaults off a dissolving back into the surf.

She hoists herself to her feet, ankle deep in the lapping waves. She sets her jaw, takes a deep breath, and braces herself. Another three. She can do three hellhounds. She’s done three hellhounds before.

Thalia almost has her feet knocked out from under her by the three-foot-high waves. The air has become dim and gray, and smells of ozone. She risks a glance away from the hellhounds to the sky and—

That’s a hurricane.

That’s impossible. Sally checked the forecast before they left for Montauk, there wasn’t a hurricane within a week’s hurricane travel time, and no potentials out in the Atlantic near New York, either.

Did she—?

Thalia checks in with herself and no, she’s not nearly as tired as she would be to make an entire hurricane so she couldn’t have done it but Percy?

Percy’s ten, and in danger, and aware of who he is, and the son of the Stormbringer, and with a distressed son of the sky. They could have done it.

Maybe. Does Jason even know what a hurricane is? Thalia’s steered them away from the eastern and southern coasts during summer and fall for a reason.

The hellhounds attack, and there’s no more time to think about it.

Thalia whirls out of the way of the first, stabbing her knife into its flank on the way by, blasts the second back with a string of lightning, and would have been eaten by the third if a rouge wave hadn’t scooped her up bodily and flung her clear.

Water doesn’t behave like that, Thalia thinks, crashing back into the surf. She sucks in a lungful of seawater, coughs it back up, and staggers to her feet. She goes down on one knee and braces herself when she sees the charging hellhound and lets it impale itself on her knife. It bursts into dust and whirls away on the rising winds.

She rolls to the left, out of the surf, to escape the other two bearing down on her. She jumps, and the wind gives her a boost, and she flips neatly over the first hellhound and stabs downward at the second hellhound’s skull with the full force of her entire self falling through the air and almost beheads the monster. She lands, tucking the knives out to the side and somersaults on the landing through the monster dust and pops back to her feet to see the final hellhound has managed to turn on a dime and is going to flatten her.

It does. One paw lands on her chest, the size of a dinner plate, and bowls her back into the sand. The breath wuffs out of her, and she scrabbles to bring to bear her knives—

The world goes white.

She’s—alive?

Yes. She’s in the water. The white is hundreds of thousands of bubbles in the wave that just tried to crush both her and the hellhound both. She can see the black mass, now, that she assumes is the hellhound, writhing in the waters about four yards off to her left.

Follow the bubbles. The surface is only a few feet above her head, thank you, Poseidon, and she swims up and gasps for air and tries to look around. The sound is choppy, gray and violent with the sudden hurricane whipping everything into a froth.

She’s hundreds of yards from shore.

Thalia swears loudly enough that she’s sure the boys can hear her from here. Lightning flashes overhead to punctuate it.

What happened? Was there a storm surge and then a riptide? She couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, if she was out at all!

Teeth sink into her leg and she’s dragged down again.

The hellhound is terrifyingly adept at swimming in the water. Thalia is a good enough swimmer to keep her head above water and get back to dry land, and not much else. Practicing surviving the water more than was absolutely necessary seemed foolish, given that one uncle already hated her guts. She was not about to try to piss off the other one, as well. She’d only let Jason play in the surf if Percy was also there.

Thalia was not above holding his son metaphorically hostage if it meant Poseidon would play nice with her brother.

It makes passes at Thalia in the water, darting in to claw or bite at her and darting away before Thalia can get a good hit in. She’s slow in the water, from both the resistance of the water and from the lack of air.

Out, out, I need to get OUT OF HERE—

There’s something wrong at the surface.

It looks wild from down below, but Thalia needs air and she’s not aware of any monsters that like hanging out in the air in a hurricane, so she swims for the surface.

Oh look, she deadpans to herself. A waterspout. Just what I need.

Hurricanes spawn tornadoes frequently, this should not be a shock. But she needed a way out, and a waterspout would, in fact, get her out of the water, and also probably slice her to pieces.

Hmm.

She dives back under the waves, gets whirled around a couple times by a wave cycle, and finally spots the hellhound. It sees her about the same time.

Thalia, thinking, what the HELL am I doing? swims towards the waterspout. She swims as fast as she can towards the waterspout that’s probably only thirty feet away, but feels like a mile.

The hellhound is on her before she can believe it, and she grabs it by the chest fur, ducking under the dangerous teeth, hauls herself close, and swings around, hoping that her own momentum would do what she hoped. It did, it reversed them, so that the hellhound was closer to the surface than she was, and then Thalia braced both feet against its chest and blasted it back with a plume of bubbles.

My superpower, Thalia thinks, amused, bubbles.

Straight into the vortex it goes, and up, and up—

Thalia surfaces ten feet away, swimming backwards, and watches the hellhound get sucked more than thirty feet up before it dissolves into golden dust. She breathes out a sigh of relief. The waterspout dissolves just as quickly as it formed.

Can’t believe that worked, she thinks, and starts swimming to shore.

There’s a lot of yelling. And nobody can agree on who made the hurricane, or the waterspout, or the weird waves, but they’re all tired as Hades.

🗲

Thalia is eighteen and Jason is eleven and the world almost ended. It’s June 24th, mere days before Jason turns twelve, three days after Percy pulled some seriously stupid stunts for a month and then vanished again, and Thalia found out that he, Annabeth, and Grover found Zeus’s zappy wand and returned it in the nick of time before all out war broke out.

She and Jason storm Camp Half-Blood. There’s a lot of yelling involved, and some blood, and some swords stuck in places they should not be stuck. Luke pulls her off to the side and she has both hands wrapped around the edges of his breastplate because otherwise they’ll shake and she’s whispering, “What the fuck, Luke. He’s twelve. Why—How—?” over and over again into his collarbone.

“Thals,” he says, chuckling, wrapping her in a hug. “Those three are going to take over the world, and the world will be gladder for it.”

“They shouldn’t have to,” she says.

“I think world domination would be a self-directed and mostly accidental task, actually,” Luke says thoughtfully, and its such a ludicrous statement that Thalia falls into hysterical laughter.

[psychoticallytrans]

There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

[zombie-bait]

Went into The Penguin after seeing the trailer expecting Sofia Falcone to be some crazy minor antagonist who exists to just get in the way (*cue Gotham flashbacks*) and instead got a very powerful (and honestly quite justified) rendition of feminine rage motivated by betrayal, societal misogyny, gaslighting and isolation. It's very overt messaging, too. Her family, her coworkers, her friends, her city, even her therapist have all used her for their own means. You get to a point where you see that genuinely everyone in her life has fucked her over and she's not going to play by their rules anymore. And fuck, man, of course she doesn't take the high road but the one she goes down is not only satisfying but borderline righteous for the character and the audience.

On top of that, I truly cannot exaggerate how delighted I am that the show gave reasons to root for AND against both her and Oz. Neither of them are particularly good people but you completely understand where they're coming from and you find yourself wanting for them to succeed, even though one's success very much might mean the downfall of the other!! They have kind qualities alongside their cruel ones which work very well to humanize them.

With Oz, you understand what kind of person he is after only a few scenes. He will lie and schmooze his way to the top however he has to. He plays every side which puts him on the edge of danger and power constantly. Every time he's called out for not having a plan he doubles down on his confidence and acts scandalized even though he's absolutely talking out of his ass. He also takes care of his ailing mother and has spent his entire life being talked down to by anyone and everyone.

Sofia on the other hand, takes a while to unravel. And I love it. The point of her is that she's a mystery. A wild card. Slowly, you learn that she has ambitions, that she has suffered at the hands of others, that she has caused suffering with her own hands and that her family will never see her as anything but a problem. Visually, she is contrasted with Oz as smaller, frailer, younger. The narrative, like her own family, almost leads you to underestimate her. But with episode 4, the painting finally comes together. You see an ambitious young woman sharpened down into a jagged weapon and know that there is only one path left for her. You come away from the episode not feeling like she's an antagonist or a villain, but more like she's a secondary protagonist in a show that already has a fairly strong one.

tl;dr this show kinda fucks. The quality has surprised me in all the best ways possible and I'm genuinely excited to see more.

[sabertoothwalrus]

I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.

First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol

as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.

Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.

The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.

The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.

Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.

It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!

In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.

I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.

okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here

[speaking-riddlish]

Thinking about how Riddlish is handled in cannon and in fics. I've seen people just put random things that happen to ryhm anytime they want someone to be speaking Riddlish and it's like, a minor pet peeve of mine? But every time we see Riddlish spoken in cannon, it kind of makes sense in a way? Like, if you think about what is said, and try to piece together any symbolism based on context, you can kind of understand what they're saying. Like Maddie said, "Riddlish is not an exact language". Putting together the metaphor and symbolism gives you the general idea of what they're getting across. And whenever a fic does this well, it's like an instant favorite.

Let's look at and dicect some cannon examples (I've always kind of found these facinating):

"Feathers and Friends, together alone!"

"Feathers" could refer to Raven, since she's named after a bird. She also has feathers fairly prominent in her character design, so it'd make sense for Giles to say this even though he doesn't know her name yet.

"and Friends" probably refers to Maddie, since she's known him for a while and is presumably his friend. It could also refer to their friendship, and maybe even be a way of including Raven in.

"together, alone" They're here with him, joining him in his solitude.

Putting it all together we get "Raven and Maddie, you're here! You came to visit me!" Which lines up pretty well with Maddie's translation of "he says it's nice to have us here!"

"Can a musical chair change its tone, when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?"

"Can a musical chair change it's tone" The music in musical chairs is integral to the game, yet the song played does not come from the chair, but from the people playing. The tone of a musical chair is something fundamental about itself, and also something imposed by something outside itself. Can it change? Can something change something about itself that someone else has decided is fundamental?

"When the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?" A tablet of granite inscribed with something is literally that thing being written in stone, another reference to destiny and inevitability. And what's written on that stone is a bone, is death. Death is what is written in stone. Death is supposedly inevitable here.

From Raven's tone and terrified body language when asking Maddie to translate for her, it's fairly clear that the thing that wants to change is referring to Raven.

Putting it all together we get "Can Raven change from what others have said she's supposed to be, or is death the inevitable consequence of that like we've been told it is?" Which lines up pretty well with what Maddie was asked to translate: "What'll happen to me if I don't sign the book, am I really gonna disapear?"

"The king that sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies"

"pages of sky" is in reference to the book, and maybe the fairytales themselves. The sky is often used to symbolically reference heaven and the divine. The book, determining people's destinies, fits fairly well into that category. It's almost like he's referring to the book as being from above.

"The king that sings with pages of sky" would then be Headmaster Grim. He's in a position of authority over the students like a king is to his subjects. He "sings with" the book/the stories with his constant insistence that people must sign the book and follow their stories, speaking in unison with them.

"fears too much" this part is fairly clear, Milton's paranoid. The consequences he thinks are inevitable aren't as inevitable as he claims.

"the dawn that rises with" would mean something like "the consequences of" or "the fallout from". Then there's one of two ways the rest could be. "lies" could refer to that which is contrary to what the stories say will happen. If you take the stories as "truth" then changing the stories would be "lies". Or, "rises with lies" could mean the consequences coming from Milton's lies being brought to light. The dawn rises as Milton's lies rise.

Yet the whole thing sounds rather foreboding, giving the impression that something is seriously wrong.

Bringing it all together, we either get "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's paranoid about what'll happen if you don't. But those fears are unfounded. Also something is very wrong." or "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's afraid of what will happen when people find out why you don't need to (and its emplied that that reason is something very bad)" This lines up fairly well with Maddie's translation of "There's something wrong with the book, and if you don't sign, your story will continue... I think". I like the touch that Maddie wasn't as confident in this translation, since the last phrase is more ambiguous. It's not really clear how the foreboding tone integrates into the message without more context than Maddie has, so Maddie doesn't really know what it means.

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers. But the cage holds both, to die and to wither."

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers." The baby bird and the snake are two very different creatures, they move and interact with the world in two totally different ways. Most people also would look more favorably on the baby bird than on the snake.

"but the cage holds both, to die and to wither." the cage doesn't care what is inside of it, it will indiscriminately hold them both captive. The things that make the baby bird different from the snake, and the adorable charms of the baby bird will not free the baby bird from the cage, nor will they protect the baby bird from the grisly fate that awaits it in the cage.

The context is also relevant, since she's talking to Alastair and Bunny, two of her subjects who have just been arrested, but also two of her daughter's friends.

Putting this all together we get "Yes, you enjoy privileges that others do not have, but my affection for you will not compromise my judgement. You are not above the law. I am not above punishing you like I would anynother citizen." While we don't have a cannon translation to compare this to, it seems to make sense. Its immediately followed up with her letting them off with a warning, and despite this interaction, Bunny later tells Lizzie that her mom really is a good queen, but that the curse has stressed her out. I think the Queen of Hearts probably made exploring illegal to protect people from the curse. If she really is a good queen, then this type of objectivity ("I don't care if you're my daughter's friends, crime is crime") would make total sense.

[soapisahimbo]

Jealousy - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head canons? NSFW PREFERABLY. Where he gets jealous and tries to distance the team from being too touchy with you or even to joke around with you. But they don’t know y’all are dating of course. So he has to fight his feelings and eventually taking it out on you if you know what I mean wink*wink*. Or the things he’ll do to show the others that you are his only and that’s when they got the clue. Please?

Wow, I'll admit, this was a bit of a challenge. Also I wrote it as a headcanon list, I hope that's what you were aiming for! I was honestly a bit unsure on how to approach this, and I'm a little unsure about how it turned out, but I genuinely hope that you enjoy it!

Containts heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: simon is a jealous bitch, it gets rough, borderline dubcon, genderneutral reader/genderneutral anatomy

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in you. He has a number of peculiarities for sure, but he knows you'd never betray him or go behind his back. It's a trust you worked hard to gain, and it was hard work that he recognizes and appreciates. You've proven time and time again that you're safe in many ways and while he's always prepared for the worst, he's also an excellent judge of character. He can read you like an open book.

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in his team either. He'd never say it out loud, but they are his brothers in arms and he is ready and willing to kill and to die for them, just as they are for him. He's not exactly eager to show his appreciation for them, but they take what they can get, even if it sometimes is just a mere glance. Now, don't misunderstand - he appreciates that you and his teammates get along, and he knows that if something were to happen to him, they'd keep you safe. But he is a man of instinct, and he has a tendency to get a bit territorial, for lack of a better word.

You know he has a bit of a... jealous streak, to say the least. He doesn't try to control you, because his gripes are not with you. He might loom and he might grumble, but he likes seeing you getting dressed up, he likes seeing you having a good time, he enjoys seeing you laugh and joke around. As far as he's concerned, you can do no wrong. No, his gripes are not with you - never with you. They are, however, with everybody else that even glances your way.

Kyle and Johnny are both very friendly by nature - they're probably the most easygoing members both in and outside the task-force. They're the type of people that others trust and want to hang out with, and they also consider you a good friend, whom they like to hang out and banter with. They do seem to have a habit of hogging you though, much to Simon's chagrin, and while you can make it up to him most of the time, he doesn't find it any less infuriating when they whisk you away for you to witness their latest ideas and trinkets.

They are also flirts by nature. Simon knows this because they inadvertently flirt with each other, as well as himself, any other teammates outside the task force and even Price at some points, mostly through jokes. They could probably flirt with a brick wall as far as he's concerned. Which is why he can almost overlook it when they turn their cunning charms onto you. Almost.

No one knows about Simon and yours relationship, not even Price. He's made it a point to keep it on the low for the safety of both of you, and you couldn't exactly argue - it made sense considering the line of work. It seemed as if though you had to remind him of this several times whenever hands and eyes that weren't his own seemed to wander a bit too much for his liking - "you can't hold it against them," you'd say, "they don't even know." And he knows you're right, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hold it against them.

Despite all this, he keeps himself in check fairly well. No one can tell if he's just staring normally or glaring daggers at others anyways, so he gets away with dreaming about stringing them up by their balls at any time. Or rather, he keeps himself in check fairly well - until he has you for himself.

You'd tease him about it, but it's kind of difficult to even form coherent thoughts once he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The second you're alone with him, you best believe he's making the most of it. He'll cover your mouth to keep you from making too much noise (although you're not sure that ever helps because just the sound of him fucking you is loud enough anyways) and he growls into your ear things like "you're mine and mine alone," "one day I'll fucking bend you over right in front of those fucking idiots and show them who you belong to," "they think they can fuck you as good as I do," "I bet those fuckheads would kill to get a chance to make you cum this fucking hard."

He tries to keep them away from you, subtly in order to not draw attention to it, even though it doesn't always work, and he'd rather just kick them in the head. Places himself between them and you, keeps you close to him, gives excuses as to why you should be stationed with him, why you should be assigned to him and his missions - anything he can think of. He also has a penchant for interrupting others when they're trying to talk to you, coming up with something to send them away. You yourself are honestly surprised no one's caught on at this point, but that might because no one knows him quite as intimately as you do.

Every day that anyone has managed to get in the way for him always ends the same. If you could keep track of the time he spends fucking your brains out, you'd probably be concerned, but he doesn't give you any chance to gather your thoughts once he has you. If he's really pissed, he might start taking risks - dumb risks, if you had anything to say about it, but he rarely listens, and he knows exactly what weak spots to touch on to get you to give in.

He's pinned you against a door a number of times, somehow managing to stay deathly quiet while fucking you thoroughly with practically all of his teammates standing on the other side, completely oblivious to what's going on behind just a couple of inches of wood. He once fucked you just around the corner from an open hangar door, and if any of the people walking by had thrown a look in your direction, they would've seen you bent over, pants pulled down to your knees and with Simon's iron grip on your hips.

So far though, he's managed to keep it discreet, despite his hotheadedness. Never leaves any marks where anyone can see them, helps you stay on your feet if you're in a place where you have to be, makes excuses to do things for you so that you don't have to get up out of your seat - although he can't deny that a part of him wants everyone else to see what he's done with you. He wants to mark your neck and chest all over for everyone to see, he wants everyone to see you stumble when you walk on shaky legs after he's done with you. He's had to fight the urge to just throw you onto the table whenever the force invites you in for a poker night and fuck you in front of them, just so that they can see that only he can have you.

But he mainly keeps it to himself. You'd be far too pissed at him if he pulled a stunt like that for it to be worth it. In fact, he reached a point where he was almost fine with at least Johnny and Kyle being their usual selves with you (to a point, of course). He almost got over it. Until, of course, the idiot with the mohawk decided to push it a bit further than he usually did.

The outcome can be blamed on a number of things, really. 141 had been away for an extended period of time, long enough for Simon to reach for his phone and send you some heated messages nearly every day for the last week, which was rare. So when he was finally coming back to you, finally able to spend as much time as he wanted in bed with you, when he steps off of that goddamn fucking helicopter to finally be greeted by you, what happens? John 'Soap' FuckTavish runs full speed ahead to you, wraps his dumb fucking arms around your waist, hoists you up in a fucking hug and plants a big fucking kiss on your cheek. Numerous times, mind you!

While you were indeed happy to see him and the rest of the team, you could tell that Simon had reached an instant boiling point. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that he was about to blow Johnny's brains out then and there, but instead he simply walked up to you, grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and just about yanked him away from you.

"Maybe take a shower before you start rubbin' your stink all over everyone else, Sergeant," he said, pushing Johnny away. Wow, smooth, you thought to yourself, but Johnny seemed to take it in stride and laughed. "Gee, sorry, LT. Just happy to be back with a good friend is all." And as a final nail in the coffin, he winked at you before strutting away.

Kyle and Price greeted you as well as they passed by, Kyle also giving you a warm and tight hug, rocking you back and forth, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Simon where he stood. Once they'd moved on, you turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Hi, baby," you said as sweetly as you could.

He grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips puckered; firm, but not rough. He leaned in close, his eyes fixated on you. "I've had it," he said and while you weren't exactly sure what he meant, you knew that there was something in store.

He picked you up and threw you over your shoulder and you were suddenly aware of the fact that there were still people around to witness this very unusual display from Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He carried you through the hallway that lead to his room and people were gawking at you as you tried to protest, tried to remind him that no one's supposed to know, that you need to be discreet about this, but how could you say all that without giving everything away when everyone could hear you? So you tried to just act like you didn't know what was going on, asking him what he was doing, where he was taking you, why he was doing this, but he didn't say a word. You're pretty sure that far more than you were comfortable with watched as he carried you into his room and locked the door.

He threw you onto his bed and tore his mask off, throwing it onto the floor with such force that you thought he broke it. "Simon, what the hell?!" you said, watching him take his gear off and haphazardly toss it to the side. "I thought we were keeping this shit secret!" But he didn't seem to listen. He simply stared at you with some combination of lust and anger as he stripped himself naked in front of you.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, wrapped your legs around his hips and leaned over you, pinning your hands in one of his above your head. "I've. Had. It." he said again. His other hand moved down to your crotch and pressed, rubbing at you. "I should've fucked you the second I touched ground - maybe then they'd get the fuckin' point."

Everything happened so fast after that - he ripped your shirt off, from the collar and all the way down, and you're pretty sure he broke your belt before he practically ripped your pants off as well. He kept you pinned against the mattress as he relentlessly fingered you, and when you tried to keep quiet he'd only up the intensity, focusing on that exact spot to break you apart. "I'll make them get the point, how's that?" he grumbled and spat at your hole, staring as if hypnotized.

You had no idea how long he'd had you just like this, eventually with both hands working you past the edge over and over again, but you were pretty sure that if you came just one more time you'd pass out, and he hadn't even fucked you properly yet.

At some point, you were vaguely aware of him lifting your hips up, placing your ankles on his shoulders before you felt him push into you and you thought you felt a part of your mind break. You didn't have any energy left to try and keep quiet anymore, so any moans and cries that worked their way up from your chest were let out freely and loudly as he pounded into you. Between the biting and the sucking all over your neck and chest and whatever other parts his mouth could reach, you thought you heard Simon praise you for every sound you let out.

His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

He gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and pushed himself deeper into you. He growled all sorts of dirty exclamations about how you looked, how you sounded, how you felt and how now no one would dare to lay a finger on you again. He fucked into you with reckless abandon, eventually pushing all the way into you to cum as deep into you as he could before pulling out and using his hands once more, fingering his cum back into as it leaked out.

You came one last time with a loud and near pornographic cry, the world flashed white, and before you knew it, you were held up in a warm stream of water in the shower, Simon's calloused hands stroking you gently to wash all the fluids off of you. "Aren't you such a good doll for me, baby?" he mumbled. "So good..."

You were littered with hickeys and bite-marks, painfully sore all over in the best sort of way, so weak in the legs that your knees were still shaking and you could barely stand. "The fuck got into you?" you managed to breathe out. "I'd be surprised if the entire fucking complex didn't hear us." Simon simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

You were incredibly pissed at him once you saw yourself in the mirror, yelling at him and telling him that there is no way you can go out there looking like this. You scolded him, unsure if he even cared, but he dutifully went out to grab you some new clothes to replace the ones he ripped apart when you demanded him to.

The following week or so was incredibly stiff, both literally and figuratively. People would nearly sprint out of the room if you entered, trying not to pay any attention to your awkward walk, and you practically banned Simon from sex until you could sit down properly ("Plus an extra week!" you had added, just to get your point across) and all the marks had faded from your skin. Simon did make it up to you, being extra sweet on you, massaging any and every sore spot you had regardless of if he had caused them or not, running errands to make sure you didn't have to leave your spot.

As for the task force... for as long as they could see the hickeys on your neck, Kyle and Johnny tried every excuse they could think of to not look too much at you, or they told you that they had somewhere to be before awkwardly stumbling off under the glare of your boyfriend. Price himself was also a bit awkward, but for the most part, his reaction consisted of calling Simon into his office and scolding him for "causing a ruckus". He also threw in a "and for fuck's sake, don't break them - I'd rather not have to write that report!"

Simon did appear to be pleased with the results, however. Everyone steered clear of you, with the slight exception of his teammates, but even they were treading carefully. He barely even had to do anything. A bonus was that anyone that tried to be an asshole to you also kept their distance, which even you could agree was at least one positive thing to come out of the whole ordeal. At least he'd gotten it out of his system. For now.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

yes or no?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, slight yoongi x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is distraught to know he can't jack off. After all, he spent all that money to complete his tattoo sleeve. He wasn't about to ruin all that hard work just for a quick nut. But it's going to take a while to heal. Days – no, weeks! – with no masturbating. Waaah! Why did he pick his right arm?! Thankfully, noona to the rescue... right? RIGHT?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slight crack b/c JK's POV; JK is whipped, welp; smut (fem reader, minor D/s dynamics, sexual fantasies, heavy petting / teasing, cock-and-ball torture, finger sucking, spit kink, handjob / m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, hair-pulling kink, nipple play, m-receiving oral, multiple orgasms, mentioned forearm kink); noona!reader; pleasure is JK-focused and JK's POV

'magic-8' ball noona is back! no need to read, just know there's a yoongi x reader x jk sex triangle and they're roommates :D

--

Jeon Jungkook was in pain, horny, and depressed.

On the plus side, his tattoo sleeve was almost completed!

Woohoo!

Sigh, no, he still felt like throwing himself into a wall and sliding down to become an unmoving puddle of goo. So tired. He always felt like this after the adrenaline of a long tattoo session. Session days were fun while he was in the studio hanging out with the tattoo artist, even for hours on end. He had brought his own snacks, plenty of water, and pain medication. The artist had even brought lunch for him – probably because Jungkook was spending a LOT of money covering up some old tattoos he ragretted regretted, but hey! Free food! Jungkook was always happy to receive free meat!

Wait. That sound weird.

Eh.

Anyway.

He sighed as he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his left hand as much as possible. Today, the artist had worked on his right forearm and filling in his elbow with black. The skin there was irritated and covered in plastic, which made it annoying to do common tasks he noticed. Great. Another day of not getting off. Yeah, Jungkook loved getting tattoos but it made him grumpy that he couldn’t just jerk off whenever he wanted.

What?!

It was a legitimate reason to be grumpy, dammit.

Why did Jungkook pick his right arm for his tattoo sleeve? Simple. He had no foresight and tattoos were permanent. Whoops. (He was not an idiot. Trust.) He finally got the key into the lock and turned it. His life wouldn’t be so hard (keke) if it wasn’t for his current living arrangements. To be clear, he really did love living in Kim Seokjin’s house full of his friends. There was just one problem. One very sexy problem.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering if he would hear moaning today.

Silence.

Whew.

The house smelled really good though. Like food. Mmmm. Food. Jungkook wandered in, loosely holding onto the strap of his large black bag and stepping out of his shoes, neatly settling them into their spot… to avoid getting scolded later. He was a good boy.

Sometimes.

The current residents of the home were: Kim Seokjin, the owner of the house, actor, and professional whaler in too many games; Kim Taehyung, a fashion model and close friend that had taken over Park Jimin’s spot after Jimin had moved out to work overseas for a while; Min Yoongi, a music producer and quite possibly sex on legs (Taehyung’s words, one had to be there for it to be funny); and the Magic-8 ball noona. The only girl. Also, she was, erm, part of a consensual sex triangle that Jungkook was a member of but he definitely didn’t start it.

Really…!

Anyway.

She had a real name but Jungkook was always going to remember that cursed hunk of plastic denying him twenty-six times. Besides, it was just easier to refer to her as noona since she was the one female and older than him. It was proper and polite. She was only by name when he was on his knees and begging to cum.

Cough.

Anyway!

He made his way into the kitchen carefully. It wasn’t unusual for the house to be fairly quiet as it was quite common for the introverts to split up and occupy themselves with their respective hobbies, especially when Taehyung went out with his friends. Jungkook vaguely remembered Taehyung saying he was going to a sauna with his squad or something like that. Seokjin was probably playing MapleStory in the master bedroom with his headphones on. Something about a new update. He wasn’t coming out unless to eat and even that would be rare. Yoongi and noona… well, they were either fucking or holed up in their respective rooms being creative.

Oh.

Yeah, did he mention the other part of this sex triangle was his sharp-witted, cat-eyed, resting-bitch-face-but-secretly-a-tsundere hyung? And the first place Jungkook witnessed Yoongi and her having sex was the kitchen he was about to walk into? His dick twitched every time he entered the kitchen because of it. He both felt guilty and became aroused by the wrongness of it. Then got more turned on when he remembered that he couldn’t masturbate tonight. Maybe he should just touch himself with his left hand to relieve some pressure. Or make it worse. On purpose.

Ugh, maybe he really was a masochist.

Jungkook rounded the corner and yelped when found himself cornered by his hyung and his noona glaring at him.

“Wah!”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” his grumpy hyung grumbled.

“There you are,” his mischievous noona mused, waving about a ladle like it was a magic wand. “Sit down, sit down. You must be hungry after a long day.”

“Why didn’t you text? We ended up having dinner without you, hah,” Yoongi hmphed, poking Jungkook in the chest. The older male looked tired and overworked. One glance between the glowing, calm smile to Yoongi’s messy black hair sticking up in every direction. It was pretty clear what went down. RIP, hyung. His hyung was wearing an elegant black silk pajama shirt and matching pants with the waistband slightly askew. Red mark on the fair skin of his exposed collarbone.

Here? Or in her bed? Or in his bed? Or… mine so it smells just like them?

It was an irrelevant thought, as Jungkook rarely slept in his own bed despite having one. He had a bad habit unique quirk of falling asleep wherever he was, whenever he felt the need to sleep. This greatly annoyed Seokjin and made Taehyung laugh. Sometimes Jungkook would wake up with the latter guy sleeping on top of him like a handsome sloth. Just Taehyung things. But most times, Jungkook was in his noona’s bed.

Hey! It was a comfy bed.

Ahem.

Jungkook received another sharp poke and he jumped, stumbling as he was pushed to the kitchen island, extra startled as Yoongi wordlessly pulled out the seat for him. He got a what? look in response, complete with black strands falling over those narrowed dark brown eyes.

“Don’t you have to be careful about your arm, especially the first night?” Yoongi puffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“O-Oh… yeah… t-thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi pretended not to hear and scooted himself towards the stove. She was standing next to a pot on low heat looking remarkably put together in red plaid pajamas. Jungkook plopped his butt onto the tall chair and put his bag on the other, yanking off his beanie. Ruffled his hair quickly to avoid his short black hair looking flat and dumb. He pretended like he wasn’t checking out the way her juicy butt completely filled out the pants and the way they clung to her lush hips. He pretended he didn’t notice that the top was relatively cropped and he could clearly see her amazing waist to ass ratio. He definitely didn’t say anything about how nice it was to see the beautiful curve of her neck due to the cute sheep-shaped claw clip collecting her hair back. And he surely didn’t go completely breathless when she turned around with a steaming bowl, suddenly realizing her pajama shirt was held together by only a single button in the center and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a row of buttons; she just hadn’t done them up.

Fuck.

It was violently unfair that she was allowed to look this hot in normal clothes.

She leaned over the counter and placed the bowl in front of him. He could see down her shirt. Damn. Even through the flannel fabric, Jungkook could still see the peaks of her nipples if he really stared. Really, really stared. For maybe ten seconds.

He jumped at the clink of a metal spoon against ceramic.

“You should eat,” she said with an enigmatic smile. Gracefully balanced her chin on the back of her knuckles, her fingers fanned downwards, her elbows resting on the counter to look into his eyes.

Shit, he was smooth melting like butter under that hot gaze.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” said a gruff voice in Daegu satoori.

Jungkook jolted as crabby Yoongi appeared seemingly out of nowhere – well, he was here the whole time, oop – and cocked an eyebrow at him. Now the older two were both standing side by side, observing him expectantly. It was only then that Jungkook looked down and realized what was in front of him.

“Wait… it’s not my birthday.”

She chuckled. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Ugh, he loved seeing them directed at him. “Seaweed soup will be good after a long tattoo day. You need nutrients. You need energy. Plus, Yoongi added beef in there for you. There’s some rice too, but not too much because Yoongi said you don’t like having too many carbs before sleeping. More meat, as you like it,” she concluded, using the spoon to show him all the ingredients. “We made it for you. Eat.”

She smiled exactly how the Cheshire cat would grin. He glanced at Yoongi who was staring at his fingernails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. They stood close to each other. No mistaking their closeness. The worst (best?) part was that even though Jungkook knew exactly what had happened while he was gone all those hours, he didn’t find this scene offensive.

In fact, he felt a bit teary from their consideration.

“T-Thanks…”

He took the spoon from her, his inhale hitching as his fingertips brushed against hers. Oh, her hands. Those lovely hands. His gaze shifted up, his heart beating fast. The side of her lips tugged upwards.

A smile turned smirk.

His cock twitched as Jungkook remembered her smirking face grinning up at him with his cum drenched all over her tongue. The last time he had jacked off into her mouth.

Argh!

He had used his left hand, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do the repeated motion of bending his right arm and bringing the utensil to his mouth right now. Hmmmm. He scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He didn’t want to mess up the line work and all that nice color shading. He was already doing the cover ups, after all. Plus, it did hurt a little moving too much. He would just see how far he could get. It was pretty easy since it was soup and the pieces of beef were cut pretty small.

They must have thought of that.

Jungkook tried not to cry grateful tears into his seaweed soup as he heard his hyung and noona busy themselves with cleaning the kitchen, ‘cause that would be utterly embarrassing and not very manly, sniff.

Thankfully, he was saved by his rising boner.

The thing was, Jungkook was pretty sure he wasn’t turned on by pain. Ahem. Okay, maybe a little (lotta) bit. But, time and place! This was precisely why he picked a very cool and very talented male tattoo artist. He could ask questions and be noisy and immature and not feel bad. Jungkook liked female artists but he would get too mentally distracted because he didn’t really know what to talk about, so his mind would end up wandering to another set of hands and then, bam! A not useful boner. Also, he didn’t want to creep anybody out or make them uncomfortable. That would be mean.

But, uh.

Jungkook was beginning to realize he enjoyed and hated these long sessions. He enjoyed them because he very much considered his tattoo artist his friend. He enjoyed them because his close friends were supportive, bought him snacks, and told him he was cool or brave for getting so many tattoos (very important, yup). And, yeah, he liked the repeated stabbing (it was addictive, okay?!). But he also enjoyed them because of how attentive his noona was before and during the aftercare process. She helped him prepare his bag prior to the appointment, would make sure to remind him to keep the area hydrated, make him his favorite meals (meat!), and be the first to help him in case he needed it. As for the hate part…

Ugh, it made him so fucking horny knowing he couldn’t get off without her help.

Yeah, sure, he could use his left hand. But the nut would be pisslow awful and not at all satisfying. Of course, Jungkook could wait and use his right when he felt like it was fine but that wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t spend all that money to have to explain that he wanted a touch-up because he needed to cum being around a literal sex goddess his noona (not to mention what a mortifying thing to say to his poor tattoo artist that didn’t need to know all that). And there was no way in hell Jungkook was going to avoid his noona during his recovery. She had just made him seaweed soup! Oh, yeah, and Yoongi was there too. Anyway, the forced waiting turned him on even more than usual because there was a real reason behind it. After his first long session, he even clumsily edged himself with his left hand, multiple times, before he asked her to get him off, just so it felt even better when her lips closed around his leaking, desperate cock.

Jungkook choked on some beef.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m – ack! – fine. Totally fine!” he managed to hack out in a very not-fine tone.

“You look like you’re choking,” Yoongi commented matter-of-factly, eerily similar to a narrator of a nature documentary.

“Be careful,” she laughed, coming around the counter to rub his back. Aaaah! Jungkook lifted his right arm slightly and tried to subtly punch his dick down into submission but, as it turned out, his erection was as stubborn as he was. Awesome. Not to mention space was very limited under the counter. Shit. She patted in between his shoulder blades. “Want some water?”

“No, hah, I’m f-fine,” he wheezed, freezing up a little at her touch. He thought he was used to it by now but he really wasn’t, especially when his dick was already halfway up the stairs to heaven. Down to hell to the circle of lust? Whatever. She wasn’t too close, as she was on his right side, but he had enough memories to know how skin-to skin felt, enough times of her breasts pressed to his back and her hands exploring his chest, enough moments of her agile fingers splayed out over his pecs like blooming flowers, running her nails over his skin, flicking his nipples, all the while tracing her tongue along the base of his neck with her hard nipples rubbing against his shivering back…

Okay.

Jungkook was not fine.

“It’s kinda warm…” he mumbled as she moved away.

“That’s because you’re still wearing your jacket and having hot soup,” Yoongi pointed out, putting away some bowls. “Take it off.”

“Want help?”

It was a very innocent suggestion. Thus, Jungkook spent the next minute trying not to reveal that he had popped a boner while eating seaweed soup, sitting up and sticking out his arms like a Ken doll, letting those dreamy, long fingers peel away his oversized white and black racer jacket. Left arm first, then the right, taking care to slide it off, the sleeve cocoon stripping back to reveal the beautiful butterfly that was his fresh, brightly inked right arm.

“Oh? That’s right, you were covering up some big tattoos today, huh?” Yoongi perked up, his raspy voice with a twinge of curiosity, padding over to investigate. Underneath the jacket, Jungkook had worn a closely fitted, white, ribbed tank top. Comfy but wouldn’t get in the way. “Ho, so much color. Quite rockstar of you. You’re become such a cool guy, heh.”

“I wanted the individual images to stand out more and the artist suggested adding some color,” Jungkook clarified, slurping away at his dinner again. “I just trusted him.”

“He did such a good job,” she was saying, delicately holding his hand. Jungkook tried not to melt into a puddle. “The gradient is fantastic. The text here looks cleaner too.”

“Oh, yeah, I asked him to clean up some of my older tattoos too. For consistency.”

He continued munching happily until…

“So, what’s with the boner?”

Jungkook nearly choked again.

“Ay, Yoongi-ssi, leave him alone,” she chided, smacking Yoongi in the butt. Received a scalding squinty side-eye in response but she didn’t seem to give a shit. Nerves of steel. “You know he can’t cum unless I let him.”

Wow, okay, way to broadcast the facts!

“Hey!”

She tilted her head and rubbed the tip of his nose. Open-mouthed smirk included. Gulp. “Am I wrong?”

Against his better judgement, Jungkook pouted. “Noona…”

She patted his thigh. Condescendingly. He intensified his pout but it was futile. “Finish eating, okay? I’ll help you out in the shower…” She winked, devilish. “As usual.”

Yoongi snickered. “Just don’t be too loud.”

“Put on some headphones then,” she countered.

“Oi, I’m not blowing out my eardrums.”

“Then listen,” she hummed, caressing Jungkook’s jeans. “Or watch. No one’s stopping you.”

The bottom of Yoongi’s lips upturned, giving him the expression of a disgruntled cat. “I have to sleep.”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep enough, grandpa.”

“That wasn’t what you were calling me when I had you folded in half under me.”

Jungkook was left to slurp his soup to the sound of their bickering as her hand gently stroked the inside of his thigh. It could be worse. Could be better too, like her unzipping him and establishing dominance by jacking him off at the kitchen island. But Yoongi was not so easily fazed, so she didn’t, and Jungkook cried at (and secretly enjoyed) the feeling of pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

Turns out, he didn’t have to wait that long to enjoy suffering.

Er.

Attention?

Towards the end of his meal was getting a bit annoying to scoop up what was left, so Jungkook put down the spoon to pick up the bowl and drink of the rest of the soup. For a brief second, he was let go and he noticed Yoongi was flicking his hand over his noona’s chest. She grabbed his hand, pulling that scowling face to her into a sudden and tense kiss. Hey, he wasn’t above some adult entertainment while eating. Well, maybe not during the majority of the meal, but Jungkook kept a (big) peeper out. From his periphery, he saw Yoongi slip his hands under her shirt and heard her murmur in satisfaction, trailing kisses over Yoongi’s face. He saw his hyung smile in response, warm and genuine and butterfly-inducing.

Jungkook lowered the bowl slowly as Yoongi opened his eyes.

And winked.

Devilish.

“I’m leaving,” Yoongi suddenly announced, untangling himself and slinking away.

His noona snickered and shook her head. “Okay, nerd.”

Then she turned around and, before Jungkook could say anything about Yoongi running away like a criminal undercover, she revealed that her shirt was now open and fully exposing her perky tits and large, hard nipples.

“Oh!”

Jungkook felt his eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull at the unexpected surprise.

She acted as if they could ever have a normal conversation with her boobs right in front of his face. “So, are you still tired? Just wanna get washed up and go to sleep?”

He tried to answer but from the first word it was impossible. Her pajama shirt was sliding down her perfect shoulders, revealing smooth skin and the flannel fabric cradled her breasts, framing them perfectly. She smelled fresh and fruity, just like her signature lotion scent. Blackberry and vanilla. Her forearms lay against his thighs, forcing his body to turn, and he gasped as her fingers fanned out over his muscular thighs and squeezed them, basically half-crawling into his lap to look up at him, asking her questions in a very leisurely and unbothered tone.

“Tired…?” he echoed, his brain in a completely different dimension. “Wuh?”

Her hands glided up his sides and delicately closed in around his waist. He gasped, stiffening as her touch encased him, feeling the action through the fabric of his tank top. She hummed softly, caressing his waist. Slow. Tender. Not a second of rushing even though blood was rushing straight down into his dick at record speed. He felt her gaze on him and shifted his own to her face, seeing her observe him with lovely eyes that contained all the innocence of a kumiho.

So, none at all.

Her smile reappeared, mysterious and sinful.

Her palm grazed over his tense abdomen and he whimpered under his breath. Or so he thought.

“Feeling good?” she asked serenely.

“Y… Yeah…”

Down. Tracing the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat. Fingertip by fingertip, in slow motion, tapping lightly on his bulge. Barely any pressure. Solidly tucked between his legs, her ass sticking out. He would be fine with the other side of the view too. This house needed more mirrors, Jungkook concluded.

“Do you remember why you came to me?”

He stopped staring at her ass as the question registered. He was holding his right arm out and his left elbow was resting on the counter. “In the beginning?”

“Mhm.”

She was now cupping his covered erection and pulsing her grip around it, making his cock throb and leak everywhere. Great. His boxer briefs were a cum-filled mess now, surely. He could feel the squish and the stimulation against the tip. Agonizing pleasure.

His cheeks warmed. “Ah… Yeah… because… my previous girlfriends said I f-fucked like a robot…”

“You think maybe you just weren’t that into them?” she questioned, running her fingertips of her other hand along his back and waist, sending tingles up his spine.

“I…” It was impossible to concentrate. “Ah… Well… A-Aren’t you supposed to fall f-for their personality first…?”

“Is that why you’re into me? My personality?”

Jungkook looked down.

Right at her personali-titties.

He swallowed so hard that he almost choked.

Again.

“Hm?” she mused.

Ripped his gaze from the visual of her prominent nipples hanging down next to his open thighs and into that sly stare that knew everything. Gulp. She continued toying with his crotch, stroking along the length, dipping down to pat the outline of his balls, smirking wider as his cock jerked in his pants. The roar of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Fuck. It was the power in that gaze. The confidence in her stance. The ability to be below him and be completely, utterly in control. The taste of forbidden fruit, just within reach. The sensation of his whole body being overcome with want and the way she gladly overwhelmed all his senses by her presence alone. She didn’t have to touch him at all. She didn’t have to expose herself. She didn’t have to smell so good. She didn’t have to.

She simply chose to do all those things to drive him even more crazy.

“Yes or no?” she purred.

He could lie, but he was a terrible liar.

“Y… Yes…”

She seemed very satisfied with his response. Slid up between his legs, her hand on his back dropping and gliding up against his chest instead. He shivered, his lips parting as she rose, closer, the warmth of her exhale washing over him, a soft sigh and then their faces close, centimeters from each other with his racing heart under her palm. Her fingers spread out. Her index found his silver chain necklace resting on his collarbones, playing with it with a small smile.

Her other hand was still on top of his hard dick.

Jungkook used to think that there was no way sex could be sexy. The idea of it was sexy. In practice, sex used to be awkward and uncomfortable, but essential to get his rocks off. It felt like something he had to do. But it wasn’t like that, at least with her. Well, he still sometimes felt awkward and uncomfortable, but Jungkook suspected she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t mind though, because she always touched him with such fondness and – maybe this was the delulu talking – but he really didn’t need the sex so much as he needed her to keep looking at him the way she did.

His dick throbbed suddenly in protest.

“Ah–!”

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Placing a chaste kiss right below his lips, the soft press taking his breath away, and then her lips ghosted over his, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and kissing him deeply. Fuck, how he loved her lips. How could he describe them? So fluffy and yet so insistent. Determined, seductive, pulling him to her and sighing, her contented breath filling his lungs and giving him life. His left hand found the collar of her shirt and gripped it tightly, not even realizing he had closed his eyes instinctively, wanting nothing more than to melt into her. Her hair brushed against his cheek and neck. Her scent warmed him, sweet and decadent. Her knuckles pressed into his sternum, unyielding. Her fingers tangled into the silver chain around his neck, possessive.

His brain melted into a puddle of bliss.

He moaned her name into her lips as she parted. She squeezed his inner thigh through his loose jeans. Still, the fabric was too thick for it to be satisfying enough.

“W-Wait…”

“You kinda taste like beef,” she remarked, releasing her hold and patting his chest. “Come on. If we fuck in the kitchen, I’ll have more to clean than your dishes.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “O… Oh.”

She backed up a step and took way too long to button a single button to cover her breasts again. He spent a good ten seconds gawking at their perky shape and the way her obvious nipples stuck straight out. She acted as if nothing was wrong, lingering between his spread-open thighs.

“You have to shower quickly, right? Go get started and I’ll come wash your back.”

“But, n-noona–!”

Her hand flew up and landed at the base of his neck. Thumb to one side, four fingers on the other. Jungkook froze.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Then she smirked.

His pulse hammered in his throat, so close to being constricted.

“Are you saying you’re flexible enough to wash your own back now?”

Jungkook shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Nope. I’m weak. Help. I can’t take off my clothes either. Owie. It hurts so much.”

“Mmmm, very convincing.” She didn’t sound convinced. At all.

Damnnit.

-

“Gah!”

She gave him an exasperated look. “As if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Minutes later, Jungkook found himself sitting in the bathtub, puffing his cheeks as he washed his hair with his left hand and felt the bath sponge rub against his back. Ah. She was leaning over the side of the tub, holding onto his left shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Aaaah. He had left the plastic on his right arm for now, intending to remove the tape as his last step so he could rinse it off with a gentle, unscented cleanser. The water was lukewarm. Not the greatest, but he didn’t want to steam up the bathroom. It would be bad for the tattoos.

“U-Um… noona?”

“Hm?”

She rubbed down to his lower back. He sat up straighter. There was a wet towel blanketed over his crotch. Not really for any reason other than cold. Yeah. Anyway. She leaned over and kept going, massaging him at the same time. He gasped as she pressed the base of her palm into his muscle and kneaded.

“I… uh… about what I said earlier…”

“Mhm.”

He jumped a little but she was just leaning over to grab the detachable showerhead, adjusting the water to the correct temperature. “I hope… I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I do like your personality a lot. You’re assertive and funny and you always remember stuff I like,” Jungkook rambled, lowering his left hand. His right was slightly hanging off the edge of the tub to keep it out of the way. Of course, he scrubbed his armpits before she came in. It would have been rude not to clean all the important bits first.

She rinsed off his back. “I’m not worried,” she chuckled.

“Oh, okay.”

“I don’t mind that you’re shallow. It’s flattering, coming from a hot guy like you.”

“That’s good – wait, what?!”

She sprayed the top of his head and sent him into sputters.

“Ah!”

She grabbed his shoulder, quickly and vigorously rinsing off his hair before pulling the showerhead away and turning off the water. Not before spraying him in the chest though. Jungkook found himself with his drenched hair flat against his forehead, making him unable to see. He felt like a wet dog. He almost wiggled away – until her arm slid down and rested against his chest, her other hand slipping under his wet hair and pushing it back, laughing playfully as she spoke.

“Oh, Jungkook. You’re so silly. Don’t worry about nothing,” she sighed, petting his head.

He couldn’t say anything.

Mostly because her tits were now pressed against the top of his back.

Oh, fuck. Her large, soft nipples rubbed against his shoulders. And her breasts, ooh, so plushy. “Everyone knows you like my personality.” So bouncy. Mmmm. “Just like how everyone knows you’ve been thirsting after me since day one.” No, it was more like first thirty seconds of seeing her. “Just like how everyone knows you’re a pain slut.”

Her breasts pressed against his shoulders.

Wait.

What did she say?

She plucked the towel away from his crotch and locked her fingers around his package.

“AAH!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth and pinned him to her body, crouching over him. It was then – how could it be only THEN – that Jungkook’s brain fully registered that she was topless. Possibly bottom-less too! Not only was she naked but also she was roughly massaging his balls with his rapidly hardening length trapped between her thumb and index finger, essentially making a cock ring with her two fingers and a ball cage with the rest. He gasped, rolling his head back onto her shoulder, moaning behind her hand as her touch switched between caress and choking his balls. There was no water in the tub as the drain wasn’t pushed down.

Her hand changed from covering his mouth to slipping two fingers into his lips.

“See? You like this,” she whispered, sultry and low.

He tried to gurgle out, n-no way, but he was too busy lifting his hips and thrusting upwards, trying to get the friction he so urgently desired but couldn’t achieve. She dragged her nails across his balls and his eyelids fluttered, sucking on her fingers, spit trickling past his lips and down his chin, his moan echoing in the bathroom when she finally closed her grip around his aching cock, pumping slow, running a fingertip over the head, slicking out the pre-cum leaking out.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“You gotta get out now,” she reminded him.

“No, please…”

She slowly thrust her fingers into his mouth, rubbing his tongue. “You should wait longer, shouldn’t you?” He tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, his hips bucking as her speed increased. “Don’t want you to get sweaty and all that.” Fuck, please, he wanted to scream and nearly did when she let go and lightly smacked around his stiff erection, slapping his cock against his tense inner thighs. It bounced around, the head dark red, aching for release. He was so hard that his cock popped right back into position, sticking straight upwards between his spread legs. “Do you really think you’ve been a good boy?” His own saliva was dripping down his chin. How did she get this level of desperation out of him so easily? She held his shaft up with only the back of her thumb and firmly smacked his balls, rapid and light, making him cry out and squirm. “Hold it up.”

“N-Noona, please…”

“Hold it up if you want me to suck your dick,” she ordered calmly.

The thrill raced up his spine. His hair was dripping, droplets down his cheeks and neck. This was it. This electric, intense feeling that seemed to control him, his hand ghosting down to wrap around his twitching length, gasping sharply when her fingers left his mouth. She cupped his chin instead, tilting his head up and now they were looking at each other, only for a moment, her sparkling eyes rich with passion, intoxicating pleasure snaking up his core as he melted under her hot gaze.

This was the feeling Jungkook always wanted.

She lowered herself down. He stared at the ceiling as she teased his balls, moaning and lazily stroking his cock as she slapped them, dragged her fingernails over them, squeezed them. Spit on him. He whimpered, teasing the underside of the swollen head of his cock, more, flinching as she spat on him again, gasping as she dug her nails into the sensitive area behind his balls, coaxing himself to the edge and then stopping, building the frustration.

She kissed his hot cheek.

“You’re doing so good,” she murmured into his ear, licking it softly.

Her right hand closed around his left and they edged him together, their fingers laced, her teeth on the curve of his ear and his moan radiating off the tiles. Long, deep strokes, building up the speed. So good. Tight, rapid pace, close, his chest rattling, so close, his eyes rolling back when her hand clamped around the base of his aching cock and squeezed hard, cutting off the high and colliding him into the mental wall, his dismayed cry drowned out by her lips devouring his.

Fuck!

Was he going to get to bust a nut or not?!

-

“Please, don’t.”

He put on his best pout as she held the Magic-8 ball in front of her body. Still wearing her black seamless panties, but that was it. She was lightly sitting on his thighs, straddling him on the bed as she shook it teasingly.

“Noona, come on…”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She lowered it and Jungkook gasped as the black plastic ball touched his chest, wiggling uncomfortably as she rolled it back and forth. Foreign and cold. It warmed up against his skin.  She leaned over him, not adding more pressure, but giving a great full-frontal view with her breasts trapped between her upper arms.

“It won’t be fun for me,” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts, using his left hand, shuddering as he felt her hard nipples against his palm, looking up to see her tongue dance at the edge of her smirk, her tousled hair trailing down her shoulder. That had been the game before. He would ask to have sex. She would shake the Magic-8 ball and get his answer – resulting in twenty-six straight refusals from that evil children’s toy. Unlucky? Maybe. Cursed? More likely. Extra cursed because it was Park Jimin who purchased and gifted her the thing.

Grr.

Jungkook was still pissed about that.

She tilted her head, sending part of her face into delicious shadow.

“We can make it a little game.”

His hand slid down her arm and covered hers.

“No games,” he begged, catching the edge of his lower lip with his teeth. Her eyes shifted down. He was playing all his cards. She muttered under her breath, hah, I love that underlip mole of yours, how can I resist a lip bite, fuck, and those cute, round, big brown eyes… all while lowering herself to him, drawn to his plea, releasing her hold on the Magic-8 ball.

She rolled it on his chest and into his open hand.

“Okay. No games.”

She kissed him again.

A claim to his lips. Soft and insistent, working him into a frenzy, making him grip that hard plastic ball tightly as his breathing shallowed, moaning as her tongue slid in, out, in, out. He felt her hands frame his head, crowning him with her fanned-out fingers. Tingling as her thumb rubbed across his temple. His jaw. His earrings, toying with them, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it, her warm body settling between his legs, soft to hard, rubbing up against him.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

She pulled on his hair roughly and his lip slipped from her teeth due his own whimper, gasping hotly as her kisses danced down his throat, then running her tongue over the trail of kisses. She had a hand planted onto his chest to prevent him from arching his back, lapping at his collarbones daintily as she tugged at a fistful of his still damp hair. Sparks of pain showering down from the crown od head meeting the maddening bliss of her lips on his chest, traveling, decorating his clavicle, each mark of her teeth mirroring the redness of a fallen rose petal.

He tried to lower his chin and shuddered against the hurt, making better and worse at the same time, opening his eyes as she let go of his hair, seeing her sliding down his torso.

That ass.

He felt a nip at his nipple and his breathing hitched, snapping down to see her looking up at him, expression highly amused.

“Pretty nice ass, huh?”

No one said she was humble.

He grinned. “Yeah, I should take a pic and make it my phone background.”

She chuckled, running her tongue over his hard nipple and Jungkook shivered, transfixed by the image and the simultaneous surge of pleasure. He lifted his head higher off the pillow. Shallow breaths, watching, the glossy tip of that dexterous pink muscle against his dark nipple, her lips closing around it, feeling his body stiffen as he felt the sucking sensation vibrate through him. The moan bubbled in his tightened chest as she gently bit, licked, sucked, alternating between the actions. Her fingernails dragged over his sides and flexed abs, electrifying his skin with the pressure. He flinched when she released him and replaced the rough play with kisses, moving across his chest to do the same to his other nipple.

She glanced at him, witnessing his perverse enjoyment with a knowing glint in her eye.

He clutched the Magic-8 ball at his side with in his left hand, falling back into the pillow moaning, writhing slightly as the sucking intensified. Her hand slid down, stroking the inside of his thigh. He could barely feel the side of his half-hard cock brush against the back of her hand.

“F-Fuck… please…”

His entire body jolted when she popped her lips off him and sealed her work with a kiss.

“You’re so impatient, Jungkook,” she hummed, pressing her tongue flat to his nipple and rubbing roughly, saliva sticking to his skin. “So needy.”

His mind was spinning. Blood running hot under his skin, body uncontrollably quivering, clutching the sheets and the Magic-8 ball for dear life. The pent-up arousal was driving him insane but, as a wise man once said, gotaa go insane to stay sane. Or something like that. Jungkook couldn’t remember any wise proverbs right now. He was too horny. She was rising, re-clipping her hair with that cute sheep-shaped claw clip, keeping it out of her smirking face.

“Y-Yes, I am needy… a-ah… please…”

Slipping down, down.

She pressed her palms into the innermost part of his thighs, spreading her fingers over his crotch, and swallowed his cock.

He moaned so loud that Min Yoongi surely heard.

Hey.

No one said Jeon Jungkook was subtle.

Especially when being pleasured.

Immediately his cock swelled at her up-and-down motion that came with tongue and lips and a tight, wet, warm throat that pushed him in as deep as possible. He was always somewhat shocked at how easily she maneuvered him without her hands, preferring instead to use only her mouth to take him all the way to the base and lick at his balls, her constricting throat suffocating the thick head of his cock, and then back up, running the sensitive skin over the roof of her mouth and closing her lips around the tip tighter, teasing the underside of the slit with deft flicks. Then, again, swallowing his growing length, molding her tongue to his girth, slathering saliva over his balls.

God, Jungkook loved the bed suck.

She had an immaculate level of control when giving a blowjob on the bed. He didn’t have to do anything but lay back and relax, occasionally looking down to follow her head movements and see his length glistening in between her plush lips, then collapsing again as the erotic euphoria overtook him again, his chest fluttering with the intensity, his core tightening, lost in lust. He completely forgot the itchiness of his right arm. The colors were brighter under the overhead light and the lotion he had applied right before getting into bed, a sharp contrast to her bare arm against his hip, her elegant hand nestled up his side, her perfect round ass in the air. His pants blending into moans, floating on cloud nine from her tight, soft mouth and agile tongue, wondering how the fuck he got this lucky.

She’s basically a porn star in bed, Park Jimin once said.

She paused when she noticed him watching her again. Extended her pink tongue past her lips, slapping his balls and scooping them up against the base of his cock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Then – thankfully – she returned her attention to his cock, except this time it was tighter, faster, and he gasped, feeling her push the head up and force it deeper into her throat when she descended, oh, fuck, he could see her breasts bouncing too, those perfect nipples, damn, obvious wet noises drowned out by the more obscene sounds he was making, crying out, moaning, the pace intense and deliberate and racing, and the only way he could describe it was as if somehow her mouth had become a warm, wet sleeve for his twitching cock, powerfully massaging his length all over, close, his eyes rolling back.

There.

He groaned as he shot into her suffocating throat, wanton and pathetic, finally, his mind going blank, pumping thick cum into that tight pocket and whining as she swallowed, fuck, finally, her pinning his flinching hips down as his shuddering length jerked again, another vicious throb and dripping cum, tears stinging the edge of his vision, gasping out her name as the apex of pleasure consumed his nerves and set them alight.

Fucking finally.

He felt his orgasm squish into the back of her tongue and around the aching head of his cock and he moaned. Long and loud and pornographic. He felt himself twitch in her mouth. She brought him down, slow and wet, a low hum vibrating from her throat to his cock to his core.

Jungkook panted.

Tension shimmered throughout his chest and limbs, keeping him breathless.

Wait.

Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his girth, fanning out along the pulsing, abused head, sending racing sparks over his ass and up his spine.

Wait a second.

Her fingertips glided over his slick balls, squeezing them and making him shudder at the shocking bliss.

I’m still hard.

He yelped, snapping his head down, but it was too late, too late to stop, the afterglow of his last orgasm building towards another, her head sliding up and down, her lips flush to his glossy shaft, him whimpering while he watched, shivering at the lewd image and the idea of back-to-back orgasms, so good, fuck, she looks so good and it feels so fucking amazing, the addictive adrenaline spiking, the lasting buzz radiating all over, oversensitivity increasing the forbidden pleasure, tight and wet and soft, taking him as so deep his balls slapped into her chin, the muscles of his body flexed and tense, hard underneath the soft.

His second orgasm slammed into him.

His head fell back and the pleasure swarmed him, knocking the air out of his lungs, drawing out his lustful moan, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Her name tumbled out of his lips, praises, swears, her name again, the words mixing together on his confused tongue. She swallowed again, loud to his ears, so obvious, and he trembled all over. The sharp spasm of ecstasy left him rattled, whining, feeling her licking him again but tender, even more gentle this time, slurping around his softening cock, the sensitive skin prickling and pulsating under her warm tongue.

“So… fuck… s-so fucking good…”

Oh, how he loved the feeling of her lips and those kisses feathering his thighs, his crotch, his cock, his balls, shivering in delight, all his previous frustrations making it everything so much more satisfying.

Uh.

He didn’t just think that.

Shit.

“Man, you’re loud.”

“Gah!”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

She planted herself on top of his drenched cock, laying out all over him with her hands on his chest and shoulder. Jungkook gawked at her and then at his hyung standing there at her open bedroom door, looking around at the pastel sheep plushies decorating her room and pausing at the pink bunny and tuxedo cat plush sitting on her desk. Then those dark brown orbs moved back to her ass leaning against Jungkook’s still trembling thigh.

“You could have taken off your panties,” he grumbled in his low voice.

She turned her head to look back at Yoongi. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it since I wasn’t going to get any tonight. I didn’t know you would be watching.”

Her words made Jungkook frown. “What do you mean, you aren’t getting any?”

She faced him again, raising her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? We shouldn’t push it. You’ll get too sweaty.”

“But, noona, that’s not fair, I could…?”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“Use you left hand?” Yoongi snorted. “Meh.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait. I can be patient.”

Yeah, well, guess who couldn’t be patient?

As the youngest, he protested. “You could use my thigh. Or… Or my forearm! You like that!”

“No, no. I’m fine with waiting.”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You’re torturing me by not letting me feel you cum!”

Jungkook paled as his hyung and noona grinned at the same time. Deviously. In unison. Scary as fuck. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his long black hair framing his cunning eyes and open-mouthed smirk, serving every bit the allegations of being sex on legs. Jungkook trembled as he felt her trail her fingers along the base of his neck, sensually rubbing his collarbone. Thumb on one side, four fingers on the other. Not moving up but reminding him nonetheless.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she drawled.

They were in cahoots.

Not that Jungkook minded.

That was how he got this lucky in the first place.

The Magic-8 ball rested against his naked hip, the window reading, without a doubt.

--

masterpost

[fcthots]

here with some Christmas gus ask 💪💪

when jason sets up the Christmas tree he has to place the decorations of the tree high enough, out of gus's reach, because gus always plays with them and knocks the Christmas decorations if they're within close reach

- 🦇

Merry Christmas nonnie!! Gus is the best present

Tim had a minor injury. Very minor. That was why he collapsed on the fire escape of your apartment. Okay, maybe the blood loss wasn't ideal, but hey. He's not dead yet.

Though he thinks he might die out of spite when he sees the large orange ball of fluff staring at him from the window. Gus's screech of a meow does not help the migraine brewing behind his eyes. Though he supposes he should be thankful when said demon screech alerts you to the bleeding bird on your balcony. He watches the shock and worry on your face as you use one hand to tear open the window and the other to hold the still yelling cat away from his desired escape route.

"Tim, what the fuck??? JASON"

He tries to say "it's fine," but to be completely honest, he's not sure he gets the words out. He sees Jason come barrelling down the hallway, eyes checking over your body for injury until he spots Tim still laying in a pile on his fire escape.

"Hey." He is fairly confident that he managed to get his mouth to move this time. Jason does not respond to his greeting in the same kind manor Tim had opened with. Rude.

Jason manages to pick Tim up and deposit him into a chair. He spends time stitching up the knife wound Tim got from what he swears was "just a lucky hit." Tim takes Jason's mother henning in stride while you make him something to eat, insisting that a granola bar doesn't count as dinner. Gus is not happy about Tim's intrusion into his home, watching his every move. Tim assumes the cat thinks it's being subtle, but all 20 pounds of cat do not hide behind the leg of the kitchen table as well as it may think. Especially when it flops over as Jason passes, heading to grab some spare clothes for Tim who "shouldn't grapple home with a stab wound."

Tim huffs and crosses his arms, only slightly wincing as it tugs at his stitches. It's only then that he notices the tree, the tree that only has the top half decorated. Almost three feet above the ground of this tree has no ornaments. He can find no discernible reason. He knows Jason would have decorated the apartment November first and it is well into December. He's seen the ridiculous number of ornaments that the two of you own. To be honest, he's not sure where you keep all the decorations out of season. The working theory is an extra safe house somewhere, but after working this pet project in his spare time for two years now, he hasn't figured out which one. Regardless, he can think of no reason, nay, negative reasons as to why not all of your tree is decorated. He stares at it so long that he spaces out and loses track of time.

Come to think of it, has your tree always been like this? He's noticed that the bottom of your tree usually has less ornaments, but the no ornaments thing has to be new, right?

"Uh Tim?" He whirls around to face you where you hand him a plate of something that looks like pasta. He briefly looks at you and then back over to the tree. "You good there, bud?"

"I am losing my mind. Why is only half of your tree decorated?"

"Is that why you've been staring at the tree for over a half hour now?"

"It's bothering me. Please. I have to know."

Tim isn't sure why he was expecting it to be some earth shattering secret. He probably should not be disappointed that it wasn't because you were sending an assassin a top secret code using trees. He is only mildly ashamed to report that his mouth hung open with slight judgement and shock as you said, "Gus likes to knock the ornaments off the tree for sport, and while we're usually just glad he's getting exercise, last year he tried to eat the glass of a broken ornament so we're just playing it safe this year."

The cat seems to laugh at Tim's descent into insanity from behind the table's leg. The cat could be an assassin now that he thinks about it.

And now that he thinks about it harder, maybe he lost more blood than he was previously aware of.

[solarmorrigan]

TW: Brief description of a panic attack, mentions of PTSD

-

Post-S3 AU with Steve who, after much badgering (and minor bribery) agrees to drive The Party out to The Good Haunted House outside of town a little before Halloween

He doesn't plan on going in, because after what happened over the summer, having people jumping out at him and screaming while possibly brandishing weapons seems like a bad idea. But then he sees the kids walking off into the dark, swarmed by people who look intentionally threatening, leaving his sight, and he decides "fuck it" and goes in after them

Unfortunately, he was correct, and being in an enclosed, poorly-lit space with occasionally flashing lights where people jump out and scream at him is, indeed, A Bad Idea. Worse, their group gets turned around and Steve gets separated from the kids, and then he's alone, he has no idea where in the house he is, or where the kids are, and he's panicking

It really sets in that he's kinda fucked when he stumbles into the the "haunted hospital" themed room and nearly decks the mad doctor in a bloody face mask and apron that comes out wielding a chainsaw. He catches himself in time, but it still makes Steve feel worse, because it's not this guy's fault that Steve can't handle a jump scare, it's not this guy's fault that Steve shouldn't be here at all, that he's fucked up and he should have known better than to come in, and Steve doesn't want to hurt anyone but he doesn't know how the fuck he's going to get out of there, he really doesn't, and -

Enter haunted house actor Eddie, who is used to being threatened with violence (and has, in fact, been punched once before), but who is less used to people having literal heaving breakdowns in the middle of his room. People get scared, yeah, but this - this is another level. This dude looks like he's about to pass out. He doesn't even really look like he's present; the look in his eyes is uncomfortably distant

So Eddie puts down the chainsaw, pulls off his mask and gloves and approaches Steve slowly. The room is fairly quiet without the revving of the chainsaw, so he manages to get Steve's attention, and asks if he wants Eddie to get him out of there

Steve can only nod

Eddie gets him out the back way, the way customers really aren't supposed to go through, but it's faster, and then they're out in the open air and Steve can almost breathe again. Eddie asks him what he can do, and Steve asks him to talk. To remind Steve of where he is

So Eddie talks; he tells Steve he's somewhere outside of Hawkins at a haunted house, tells Steve what it's like to work there, filling the space with funny stories, and it grounds him. By the time Steve feels like the world isn't caving in on him, he can hear the kids shouting from around the other side of the house, looking for him

He has just enough time to thank Eddie before The Party falls on him and he puts his attitude back on, herding them back towards the car with promises of dinner on the way back "if you can all shut up for five minutes"

In the back of his mind, though, he's wondering if he might just drive back out here on his own tomorrow night. Not to go back in--god, no--but to maybe ask at the front who the mad doctor is. Steve thinks he'd like to thank him for his kindness properly

[olderthannetfic]

I thought it would be interesting to see if I could easily determine which ships had the most works updated in 2023.

It turned out to be fairly easy, though a little time consuming. I think these results should be reasonably accurate.

Some points to note:

I did this on my own account, and I have like 2 people muted. So I am capturing the effects of archive-locked works, but my numbers might be off by one or two works due to muting.

Works updated in 2023 is a number that constantly changes as works are deleted or updated again in 2024.

I didn't scrape the entire archive or anything like that, so it's possible I missed a ship that would bump one of these down below 100. I'd take the last few at the bottom there with a grain of salt. But I think we can be reasonably sure the top ones are accurate and that the kinds of numbers that we see at the bottom there (eighteen hundred plus works updated in 2023) are about where the cutoff will be even if we find a ship I missed.

--

As for how I did this, I went to the category tags and the rating tags, filtered for updating in 2023, then excluded ships in the sidebar till I got to 130-150 ships excluded. I also grabbed ships that are big in general from tag search, which you can use to find all relationship canonicals, ordered by frequency.

I combined those lists of ships, cleaned off the works numbers, and generated a list without duplicates. That got me three hundred and something (yes, they were mostly duplicates). I generated the relevant AO3 URLs, opened them in batches with Open Multiple URLs, and copied the works totals into a spreadsheet. Not as tidy as using a script but honestly pretty easy if you know a few spreadsheet formulas to clean up data.

The key here is that if you're only going for pretty good and not accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt, all you need to do is generate a list of likely ships, then check them.

It's possible that there's some much-updated ship that is so evenly spread across these various other tags that it just missed showing up in the sidebar. Hopefully, grabbing more than just the top 100 avoided this problem.

This method also doesn't take into account backdated works. If a whole archive was imported in 2023 but all backdated, there could be some ship that didn't have new works but where AO3 users experience in 2023 was of an influx of content.

I also did this just now, in late March/early April, so some 2023 works have inevitably been deleted or updated again. So the exact work counts don't represent the experience of using AO3 throughout 2023. A fandom active in early 2023 might not have much updating in early 2024, while a fandom active in late 2023 would. This could demote the latter a few places in the rankings since I didn't grab numbers on January 1st.

Even if a person scraped AO3 every day or was monkeying around in the databases, you also have to ask what conceptual answer you're after. Is it works a user could have read at some point during 2023, whether they were deleted by the year's end or not? Is it new-to-AO3 works or only newly-created ones, not including imported archives? Does it matter if the works are fic? If they're in English? What about accidental double-uploads or translations of a single work?

I hope this makes it clear why a definitive ranking is not actually possible.

However, despite these drawbacks, I am confident that the rankings above accurately represent the broad trends on AO3 in 2023. Just don't get too fixated on whether a ship should be at number 73 or number 74.

And, of course, I excluded these from the top 100:

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) - 20,026

Minor or Background Relationship(s) - 16,187

No Romantic Relationship(s) - 8,052

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) - 7,195

Original Male Character/Original Male Character - 6,283

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added - 5,618

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) - 3,990

Original Character(s) & Original Character(s) - 3,210

Here's a spreadsheet if you want to see the actual numbers not as a shitty screencap. I left the next few below 100 for context.

[goquokka00]

The Roomie Effect (Finale)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: You're roommates with your friend Jisung and his boyfriend, Minho. The downsides? You're attracted to both of them, and they're a fairly...active couple. Little do you know; they're also attracted to you. And they want you to be in their relationship with them.

Pairings: Jisung X Reader (F!) X Minho

Genre: Fluff, humor, non-idol au but Stray Kids still knows each other, smut (MDNI)

Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, "vaping" (reader uses diffuser sticks like pure and cloudy, so no nicotine), vomiting, handjob (Minho's jerking Jisung off), Minsung action is caught by reader on accident, cumshot, threesome, Soft and Hard Dom! Minho, Whiny Babbling Needy Sub! Jisung, Whiny Needy Sub! Reader, oral (Male and Female receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, anal sex (Male X Male), A bit of degrading, dirty talk, Cream pie, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 10.8K

Mornings were always so peaceful to Minho.

Whenever he woke up, he'd always feel warm. Mainly because Jisung would always be curled right up into his chest. The sight of his lover was the one thing that always seemed to melt Minho's heart.

His mouth was slightly open, his cheek squished against the pillow. Soft snores left his mouth, while a peaceful look was on his face. If Jisung had been fucked good enough, sometimes there'd even be drool going down to the pillow.

All in all, it was a sight Minho absolutely bathed in. It was one that always got him to smile, seeing his love like that. Though, when Minho would start moving for the day, it would always stir Jisung, too.

"Mmn...'s too early." Jisung grumbled, Minho just kissing his forehead.

"Good morning to you too, baby." Minho replied. He was just met with Jisung going further into him. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah..." Jisung nodded, pressing some kisses to Minho's bare chest. "I always do when you fuck me well. You know that."

"I do, I do." Minho smiled at Jisung's small actions. His hand went up to Jisung's hair, a low hum leaving his lips. "You're awfully clingy this morning."

"Can't help it." Jisung mumbled, looking up at Minho. "I had that dream again."

"That dream?" Minho asked, Jisung nodding.

"You know that dream. About her." Jisung said to him.

Of course, that dream. It was one that Jisung had every so often about you. A wet dream about you, that is. Your naked body, your curves out for both him and Minho to see. Jisung would be in between your legs, eating you out and drinking your juices which he firmly believed would taste so, so sweet. As he did that, Minho's cock would be in your mouth, and your moans would be muffled by it.

And then, Jisung would enter you, waiting patiently for Minho to enter him. It was so hot to Jisung, the idea of getting to be inside of you while being filled by Minho. Just thinking about it made Jisung hard on the spot. And once Jisung had cum, Minho would pull out of Jisung and fuck you senseless, just like he did to Jisung every time they've had sex.

Minho had heard this dream come from Jisung a lot, and it would make sense that Jisung would have it the night you had kissed both of them.

"Do you want help?" Minho offered, tilting Jisung's head up.

"Please."

And with that, their lips collided, a mish mash of tongue and urgency. Minho was quick to put Jisung onto his back, hovering over him in an instant. Jisung immediately whined when he felt Minho's dick press against his own, squirming to get friction.

And then, there was a loud bang.

Jisung and Minho both froze upon hearing clattering and stomping, only for a door to swing open, and gagging to follow. The two immediately looked at each other, feeling their hearts drop. They'd have to get back to this later.

"I'll go and get water." Minho said, Jisung nodding as they both got up out of bed, moving to get somewhat dressed. Minho settled on boxers and a T-Shirt, while Jisung just threw on a pair of sweatpants.

From there, they both went their separate ways, Minho going to the kitchen to get some water for you. Jisung went right into the bathroom, seeing you with your head in the toilet as you continued to vomit up the alcohol you had consumed last night.

"Oh, Y/n..." Jisung trailed. He immediately went to you, pulling your hair back and sitting behind you, rubbing your back as you continued to blow chunks. "You're doing good, just let it all come out of your system, okay?"

You wanted to respond, but you couldn't stop vomiting. Your hands gripped the toilet as you kept your head in the bowl, gagging and coughing out the last of it, spitting out any access, only for more to follow. Jisung, while grossed out by it, still stayed by your side, looking away from it but still rubbed your back.

And before long, you finished. You carefully sat back up, still leaning over the toilet bowl slightly, just in case. Small breaths left you as your face scrunched in pain.

"Fuck..." You trailed, holding your head in your hand.

"Better?" Jisung asked, watching your head nod slightly.

"Kind of..."

"Pain killers?"

"Please." Done and done. Jisung carefully got up, grabbing the pill bottle and getting the amount you'd need. Just as he did so, Minho carefully walked in, seeing the both of you still in the bathroom.

"Damn, you look like shit." Minho told you, handing you the water. You just gave him a sarcastic smile as you took it from him, taking the pills from Jisung.

"Gee, thanks. I feel like it too, so you're aware." You said, taking the pills before drinking the meds, reaching up and flushing your bile down the toilet.

"I don't blame you; I mean, you were pretty drunk last night." Jisung said to you. You took another sip of water, carefully standing up as the two boys left the room. You trudged behind them, the three of you going into the kitchen.

"Was I bad?" You asked. Your memories from the previous night were pretty fuzzy. You could remember things here and there, but not too much.

Upon hearing your question, Minho and Jisung looked at each other, blushing a bit. And immediately, your heart dropped.

"Oh god, what did I do?"

"Nothing! You did absolutely nothing, you were perfect!"

"Han Jisung, you and I both know that when I'm drunk, I don't have any filters or boundaries point blank period!"

"Well YEAH, but the real question is why you went drinking without telling either of us! Or inviting me!"

"What the hell does that even matter?"

"Don't you think you should've said something?!"

"Hey!" Minho yelled. Jisung just backed off, running a hand through his hair as you plopped down into a stool near the counter, putting your head back into your hands. "Her head must be pounding, so keep the volume down for a while."

"Fine." Jisung grumbled, sitting next to you.

"However." Minho said, looking to you. "It would be nice to know why you went drinking out of absolute nowhere last night. Without telling either of us."

"Or inviting me."

"Shut up."

Jisung just pouted, putting his head in his arms on the counter. And then, Minho looked to you, only for you to avert your gaze.

"Y/n."

"I just thought that I needed to get out, I guess."

"Okay, and?"

"There isn't an "and". I just wanted to go out."

"If you just wanted to go out, you would've invited Jisung."

"Yeah!" Jisung exclaimed, only to get glares from the both of you. He went back to pouting. And then, Minho gave you a concerned look.

"Hyunjin said you were avoiding some feelings? You know, if you need to talk, you have us, right?"

"I know, but..." You sighed, crossing your arms and looking down. Jisung perked his head back up at your behavior, and Minho tilted his head. "I just...needed to figure it out for myself first, I guess."

"Does it pertain to us?" Jisung asked, looking to you.

"Kind of?" You said, shrugging. "I guess I just...I'm tired of being single. I want to get out there, and I want a guy who treats me like Minho treats you."

"Oh, so you're jealous of what we have?" Jisung asked, watching you nod.

"I guess so, yeah." You concluded. "But enough about that. Can you please tell me what happened last night?"

Minho and Jisung looked to each other, getting nervous once more. They felt that with your hangover, the last thing you needed was finding out you had kissed them. What if you got grossed out? What if you didn't like that?

"Well for starters, you tried to strip in front of me." Jisung told you, which made you blush.

"No shot, did I really?" You asked, Jisung laughing as he nodded.

"You did, really." Jisung told you, watching you whine from embarrassment and hide your face.

"You also wanted cuddles from me." Minho said, only for you to make an embarrassed noise. How could you not?

"Oh my god..." You trailed.

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Minho said, shrugging at your embarrassment. "I'm a cuddly drunk too."

"He is, it's really adorable, actually." Jisung laughed, only to get punched in the shoulder. "Ow! Hey, I was just telling the truth!"

"I'm so sorry, I...I'm horrible." You laughed a bit, the two boys laughing with you.

"Really, don't worry about it. Trust me, it could've been a lot worse." Minho told you.

"That's fair." You giggled.

"Well, now that that's out of the way...can you please make breakfast now?" Jisung asked, looking to Minho.

"What? Why me?"

"Because you make the best hangover food! And Y/n is hungover?"

"So needy..."

||

You let out a huff as you set your mug down, leaning back against your chair. Why didn't you do this paper before getting drunk? Being hungover (while most of the symptoms were gone) made it ten times harder to think about what to write. You really hated yourself for that one.

The tea that Minho forced you to drink definitely helped, even though you despised tea and you would much rather have coffee. But coffee already made your stomach hurt, and drinking it while hungover would result with your head back in the toilet.

Speaking of, you had just finished that tea, and knew you should probably start consuming water to really flush out any access alcohol left in your system. Besides, you needed a break from the paper that you were currently working on. And so, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

Music blasted through your airpods as you gently swayed to the beat, grabbing a cup and holding it to the faucet. Once it was semi-full, you went to the freezer, getting out some ice and putting it into your glass. After all, the only way you really enjoyed water is if it was ice water.

As you turned to fill up the rest of your glass, you noticed something very familiar on the counter. A very similar looking notebook. You hummed, setting the glass onto the counter before pulling the notebook out from underneath several newspapers and magazines that would always come through the mail. And at the sight of the familiar black cover, your eyes widened.

Jisung's damn lyric book.

It was still out here. Seriously? You couldn't help but sigh, figuring that it hadn't moved since the last time you encountered it. Except this time, you weren't going to look into it. Nope. You learned your lesson the last time.

Instead, you decided that you'd just go and set it into his room. You hadn't seen Jisung or Minho since you had decided to just go and chill in your room, wanting to watch some Netflix or YouTube while working on homework. But you figured that just popping into Jisung's room to return the lyric book would be better than having the book out in the open.

And so, with both airpods still in, you gently hummed to the music, walking to Jisung's room with the book in your hand. Once you got to the closed door (all of you always kept your bedroom doors closed for privacy reasons), you gently knocked, before opening the door.

"Hey, I found this on the--OH MY GOD!" You immediately covered your eyes at the sight of Jisung naked on his couch, Minho behind him as his hand pumped his boyfriend's cock. Just as you yelled that, Jisung cried out, cumming right on the spot.

"Fuck, Y-Y/n, I--"

"I'm so sorry, here, I'll just--I'm just gonna set this here." You said, placing the book on his keyboard. "U-Um...please, carry on, and um...use protection?"

And then, you left, closing the door behind you as you quickly went to your room. Holy Guacamole. That was extremely embarrassing. The second you sat down on your chair, you immediately put your hands over your face and screamed, knowing that your face was probably rivaling a ripe tomato right about now.

How the hell were you supposed to face them now?

You couldn't. There was no way. That image of Jisung leaning back against Minho's chest while getting a handjob from his boyfriend was officially stuck in your head. It was hot, way too hot. But because it happened so damn quickly, you didn't even get a good look at his--

You slapped your cheeks at the thought of that. He was taken. You knew better than to fantasize about your friend's dick. Hell, you knew better than to fantasize about either of them. Or both of them. It was wrong. It was so wrong.

You let out a breath, going and grabbing one of your diffusers. It didn't matter which one it was, you just needed to calm down about this whole situation. As soon as you popped it into your mouth, you took a deep breath, inhaling a lot more of the vapers than you usually would. And then, you slowly breathed out, watching the access flow from your mouth.

It was always so soothing.

After your third puff, you decided that you had to finish your homework. That was your first priority. And so, you turned on Netflix once more, letting out a shaky sigh before getting back to work on your paper. You typed and typed, zoning out somewhere in the work. You finished surprisingly fast, going over your work a few times to check for any spelling or grammar mistakes. And then, you turned in your work.

From there, you glanced back to your TV, which was still playing the show you had decided to watch. Not much of a surprise, you supposed. But, you still had so many thoughts. So many things you had to get out of your head. Your mind was spinning. It was just so hard to think.

So what better way to get it all out than to write about it?

You had a notebook for that, anyway. It was where you kept all of your darkest thoughts, and only came out in times where you couldn't go to anyone. Well, you could. You always could. But sometimes, you really didn't want to.

It was a pink Campus notebook. One that you had labeled "i'm doing okay.", even though most of the stuff inside the notebook definitely didn't seem like you were doing okay.

You flipped to the next empty page, took out a pen, a random color, you didn't really care. And with that, you started writing.

"I really haven't done this in a while, but I need to get this out. These feelings, these thoughts...they're too much. I can barely handle them, I guess. Hell, I got drunk over it last night, so doing this is probably for the better. So, I suppose I'll just start by being blunt.

I like Jisung and Minho.

I know, I know, it's wrong. It's wrong and stupid and selfish. For one, I like my friend. The friend that I've gotten so close to, the friend that I live with. I like him. Well, I guess it's love now? I don't know.

But what's worse? Liking his boyfriend. His boyfriend, Minho, the sweetest lover I think I've ever witnessed in my life. He's someone I've always dreamed about dating. And he's perfect for Jisung. And here I am, wishing that I was dating both of them. God, I want to so badly, but that's selfish. It's inconsiderate, I think. To want both, when they already have each other. It's not fair to them.

I'd be getting in the way of a good relationship. A perfect relationship, actually. I feel like if I were to bring up that I liked them, they'd be uncomfortable. I feel like, in the complete off chance that they feel the same way, I'd still be in the way. I'd ruin something beautiful. I don't want to do that to either of them.

But it seems that I keep making this worse for myself. I looked into Jisung's lyric book, seeing these lyrics that could pertain to me. If they do, then that'd be wild. But I shouldn't have peeked, I shouldn't have looked in there to begin with. Those are personal thoughts and feelings, not to be seen by others. And yet, I still looked. And I wasn't ready to see all of those lyrics that could potentially be about me.

I also walked in on Minho jerking Jisung off. I really didn't mean to, I just wanted to give the lyric book back that had been sitting underneath newspapers and magazines. I saw them both in an intimate light, seeing their bare chests, and kind of Jisung's dick? He came just as I walked in, and whatever I did see I don't even remember. I freaked out and left as soon as I could.

And now...I realize just how awful I am. Some nights, I can hear their moans, but I don't put in my airpods to ignore it. I listen to them. I listen to them, fantasizing about what they're doing, and sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like if I got to see it, or even be a part of it.

God, I sound like a pervert.

I want to be with them, but it's wrong. I shouldn't. But...I can't help who I fall in love with. And yet, at the same time, it just had to be with the two I live with. I guess it's just the roommate effect. Or maybe the Roomie Syndrome? I don't know, whatever it is, I have it and it sucks.

Dated, xx/xx/xxxx"

You set your pen down, shutting your book as you looked outside. It was dark outside. You must've been writing for a while. Probably for the better, seeing as your head felt a lot clearer. But still, you couldn't help but think about what you saw. And so, you did the reasonable thing.

You grabbed a diffuser, as well as your airpod case and phone, before going to your window and doing out to your balcony.

You didn't go out on your balcony often, since you were always busy with homework, or would go out and drink, or whatever else you did. But sometimes, when you really needed to just stop and think, or get some fresh air, you'd go out and just lean on the edge of your balcony, watching the stars or the moon or whatever else you could watch.

And that's exactly what you did for a while. You just watched the stars sparkle through the night sky as you listened to some music with one airpod in. You were able to see some constellations, like the big dipper and the little dipper, and Orion's belt. And with a few puffs from your diffuser, you finally managed to calm down. Until a voice startled the peace.

"Hey..." Jisung. You turned, seeing the man standing in the entry way of your balcony. Immediately, you tensed up.

"Hey." You replied, giving a small smile.

"Can I...um..." Jisung trailed, scratching the back of his head. After letting out a breath, he spoke again. "Is it okay if I join you?"

"Yeah, sure." You responded, nodding. And then, you turned back around, looking up at the stars. Jisung was quick to go next to you, giving you a bit of space.

Immediately, the air between you was tense. So tense, you could cut it with a knife.

The silence was too loud for your liking, too. You just continued to listen to your music, too scared to look over at Jisung. Though, Jisung didn't blame you. After all, you had seen him naked. Obviously, you were going to be a little awkward after that. And so was he.

A whole song passed before Jisung finally spoke again.

"So, um...what are you listening to?"

"Um...Sun Goes Down by Lil' Nas X."

"Really?" Jisung asked, watching you nod shyly. The last time he had seen you this shy was when he first met you. You always were pretty shy. But he liked that about you. "Can I listen with you?"

"Sure." You replied. You got out your airpod case, handing him the other, watching as he slipped it in. It wasn't too loud, so he could still hear you. "It's just a chill playlist. Nothing too energetic."

"That's fine with me." Jisung responded. And just like that, it went quiet again. But the silence was shorter, Jisung speaking up again. "Um...thanks for getting my lyric book back to me."

"It wasn't that big of a deal. I just found it on the counter and figured it'd be better to get it back to you rather than having it sit out."

"Yeah." And then, silence again. God, your insides stung. It was so awkward; it was almost suffocating. So suffocating, you really couldn't handle much more of it. And so, after taking a deep breath, you decided to finally come clean.

"I...really need to tell you something." You started, looking to Jisung. Jisung looked back to you, his eyes nervous. Was this it? Were you going to confess to him? Maybe all of this waiting was worth it.

"Oh, um...okay." Jisung said, nodding to you. He had a light blush on his cheeks, and his heart raced. Yours did, too.

"I...um..." You trailed, taking another deep breath. Why was being honest so hard? "I...I looked through your lyric book."

"You did?" Jisung asked, his eyes widening. Well, this was definitely a confession. Just...not one he was really expecting.

"Y-Yeah. I did." You confirmed. "Look, I know...I know it's a big invasion of privacy. And I'm sorry, really, I am. It was wrong of me, and I know that. I just didn't want to tell you because...because..."

"Because...?"

"Because I didn't want you to think less of me." You finally admitted.

"Well, uh...what all did you see?" Jisung asked, noticing how you didn't look at him.

"I mostly just skimmed through everything." You told him. "I have to admit, I really liked what you were writing. It was good."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Jisung blushed more, nodding in acceptance to your words. You read his lyrics. And that meant you would've had to come across...

Oh god.

"So um, did you also come across the last two?" Jisung asked.

"143 and Want so BAD?"

"Yeah, those."

"Mhm."

Well, shit.

Jisung just groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Those were the two songs you REALLY weren't supposed to see. Well, not yet, at least. He wanted to confess his feelings first, and have Minho confess, rather than you finding out from his stupid book.

"I wasn't supposed to see those, was I?" You asked, Jisung letting out a sigh.

"No, you really weren't." Jisung said, only for you to look away from him. You felt awful, more than you already did. "I kind of wanted to tell you before you saw those lyrics."

"Tell me what?"

"That Minho and I..." Jisung took in a big breath, letting it out a bit. "We both really want to be in a poly relationship."

"I kinda figured from the lyrics--"

"No, I mean, yeah, it's in the lyrics, but..." Jisung let out another sigh, running his hands through his hair. "We want to go poly specifically with you."

Oh.

So that really confirmed things for you. And if that didn't, then what Jisung said definitely did.

"We've been thinking about it for a while. I just...I've always kind of liked you, and since we started living together, Minho took a liking to you too, and then you kissed both of us and it just got worse, and--"

"Wait, I kissed you?" You asked, interrupting Jisung's rant. Instantly, he froze. He...wasn't supposed to tell you that. "I kissed both of you?!"

"Um, no?"

"Han Jisung."

"Okay, yeah, you did! When you were drunk, you openly admitted that I was pretty, and then you kissed me, and I wanted to kiss you back but you were drunk and I knew it was wrong, and then you asked Minho to kiss you and he said that he would if you drank water so you did and then he kissed you and then you let out a really cute whine and it turned both of us on a lot because we always imagined what you'd sound like when you whined, you know? N-Not that we'd ever listen in on you or anything, since we're already really bad, but--"

"Jisung, slow down." You interrupted once more. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that this morning?"

"Because we weren't quite sure how you'd react to us telling you that." Jisung admitted. "We weren't sure if you'd get grossed out, or if you'd think less of us because we didn't try to stop you right away."

It was the same as how you felt when you had first looked at Jisung's lyric book. So then...the feelings were mutual about that. If you had to be honest, there were a lot of mutual feelings going on right now.

"Oh." That's all you could really say to that in response to that.

Just like that, the two of you turned back to the stars, trying to look anywhere else than each other. A long silence passed by again. It wasn't as tense, but it was still awkward. At least until you spoke up.

"Is Minho here?" You asked, Jisung nodding. Though, you couldn't see it.

"Yeah, he's working on homework." He responded. Though, it didn't take a genius to figure out why you were asking. "Go get him?"

"Go get him."

||

Sure enough, after Jisung filled Minho in on what had happened, the three of you were now on your balcony, awkwardly standing with each other as music played from your phone. You figured that having some form of music playing would be better than awkward silence, because let's be real; if there was awkward silence, you three would suffocate in it immediately.

It took a while, nobody on that balcony really knowing where to start. None of you knew who had the rights to start. Minho had just joined in on the party, while you and Jisung had just confessed some pretty important details. So finding a starting point definitely wasn't easy. Until you spoke up.

"Um...I'm sorry for walking in on you guys earlier." You said, looking away from them both. They still stayed quiet, so you cleared your throat, continuing. "It was...um...It was pretty hot."

Both boys looked at each other, before laughing a bit.

"Was it?" Jisung asked, watching you shyly nod. Minho just gave you a soft smile, even though you couldn't see it.

"You know, we were gonna invite you to join us." Minho admitted, making your eyes go wide. You whipped your head to look at them, shocked by his words.

"Are you serious?" You asked, almost as a whisper yell. And that got both boys to laugh a bit.

"Nope." Minho said.

"In all honesty, after you walked in on me shooting my load, I got too shy to even continue." Jisung admitted. "I mean, the girl of my dreams walked in on me getting jerked off by my boyfriend because I was thinking about you."

"Oh." That got you to blush. You looked away, getting shy again. That was with the awkward silence slowly fading in, only for Minho to counter it.

"We're serious, you know." He said, getting your attention again. "We want you to be in a poly relationship with us."

"But why?" You asked, looking over to them. "What you guys have is perfect. Wouldn't adding a third...I don't know...ruin it?"

"You think you'd ruin our relationship?" Minho asked, raising a brow. You nodded, only for Minho to smile and laugh a bit. "I think you'd make it even better."

"But why?"

"Why not?" Minho asked, turning to face you. "Y/n, I haven't known you for as long as Jisung has, but after living with you for how long, I've found that when you're not here, it feels like something's missing. You're the sweetest person I know, always compensating to do whatever it takes to make us happy, even if it might bother you. You've done things that make my heart wrench from how cute or adorable you're being. Seeing you be happy made me realize how much I want to be the one that makes you happy."

"I 100% agree." Jisung added, giving you a smile. "If I'm being honest, which I totally am, there are times I completely forget that you aren't in a relationship with us. Whenever we have meals, or when we're working on homework in the same room or playing video games or talking in the living room, it feels like we're all in one big happy relationship. The times I do realize it is when you aren't cuddling with either of us, or giving us kisses, or having sex with us, and I really want to do all of that with you. Badly."

Hearing their words made your heart flutter. If you had to be honest, you weren't even sure what to do or say. You wanted to jump for joy, you wanted to kiss both of them, you wanted to squeal, you wanted to do what seemed like a million things at the moment. But your brain was still processing all of it.

"So, uh...what are you thinking?" Jisung asked cautiously.

Instead of answering, you just walked away from the balcony, going to your desk to grab something. The two boys looked to each other, watching you closely as you grabbed your notebook, walking back to where they stood. And then, you flipped to the pages you had written earlier, handing the book to them.

"I think...you need to read this." You told them, watching as they put the book in between them, reading it carefully. As they read, you left them alone, going back into the apartment.

You didn't want to see their reaction. You didn't know how they'd react. Judging by what they told you, if it was even true, they'd be thrilled. But...something deep inside of you still doubted everything they had said. For whatever reason, you firmly believed that what they told you wasn't serious. They just wanted you to feel better about everything that you had done.

Everything you were ashamed of doing.

You eventually went into the living room, pacing. Why were you so nervous? You shouldn't be. If they were telling the truth, they would find you and hug you or something, right? So then what was taking them so long? Why haven't they, yet? Were they still reading? Were they processing? Were they shocked? Horrified? Disgusted?

You didn't know. And you hated that you didn't know. You hated it more than anyone would ever know. And yet, when you turned to continue pacing, you saw Jisung looking at you with widened eyes, his mouth slightly open with a blush covering his cheeks.

So fucking adorable.

"Well?" You asked, stopping your pacing as he walked up to you. You weren't surprised that he was done reading first, as Jisung was always a fast reader. Your heart raced as he stopped just in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"Last night, when you were drunk, you asked me if I didn't want to kiss you after I didn't kiss you back. But fuck, Y/n--I really wanted to." Jisung said, making you confused. Flustered, but confused.

"What does that have to do with--"

Instead of finishing your sentence, you were cut off by Jisung's lips pressing against yours. A surprised squeak left you, a sound you didn't even know you were capable of making. But here you were, having squeaked as Jisung gently kissed you, not sure if you'd kiss him back.

What...the fuck. What the fuck, Jisung was kissing you! The same guy that was your friend, that had a boyfriend, who you were living with, who wanted to be in a poly relationship with you! The guy you liked! What?

That's some crazy shit.

What was even more crazy was that your eyes fluttered closed as you started kissing him back. You couldn't help it. Jisung's lips were soft, slightly pouty. And the way he kissed was urgent. Urgent, a little sloppy, but if you had to be honest, you didn't really mind. To you, it was who Jisung was. And your lips fit with his perfectly.

His hands left your shoulders, going down to your waist to gently yet firmly hold it, your arms going up and around his neck. God, he was addicting. He was so addicting, it was like a drug. Little did you know, you were the exact same to him. But all good things must come to an end, as he finally pulled away, looking down at you with glossy eyes and puffy lips.

You were pretty sure you didn't look much better.

"I...we really want you to be in our relationship. Please, Y/n. You'd make Minho and I so happy." Jisung begged, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. He just wanted you to be theirs. But before you could respond, Minho raced into the room, looking at Jisung.

"Where is she?" He asked, Jisung stepping back slightly to reveal you to his boyfriend. And the second Minho's eyes landed on you, he immediately took you into his arms, kissing you just as urgently as Jisung.

Double what?

His hands went straight to your hips, his lips much more precise. He knew what he wanted, and he'd make sure he'd get it. And you noticed that his lips fit with yours just as well as Jisung's did. It didn't take long for him to move his tongue into your mouth, which made you whine a bit, your arms quickly going around his neck.

Minho was just as intoxicating as Jisung, if not a little more. You honestly couldn't tell, and you really didn't care.

And then, Minho pulled away, breathing heavily as he looked you over. His tongue went out to wet his top lip, his eyes searching yours just as Jisung's did a few seconds ago. A few minutes ago? Who knew?

Who cared?

"You wanting to be with us isn't selfish. It isn't inconsiderate. And it sure as hell isn't wrong. You hear me?" He said. His voice was low, yet so smooth. It sent shivers down your spine. "You deserve everything in the world. Just like Jisung does. And how he thinks I do. So if you want to be in this relationship with us, consider it done."

"Do you want to?" Jisung asked, looking at you with those doe eyes of his. Those beautiful eyes that almost always threw you into a trance. "We aren't gonna force you into it. At the end of the day, it's your decision."

What kind of question was that? Of course you wanted to. You wanted to be in a relationship with them more than you've ever wanted anything else in life. So were you really going to turn them down right now after they both just kissed you and told you all of that?

Fuck no.

"I...I want to." You said, both Minho and Jisung's eyes widening. It wasn't with shock though, it was with happiness. "I really, really want to."

"Thank fucking god." Minho said, pulling you into a hug. You laughed a bit at his sigh of relief, hugging him back. It didn't take long for you to feel Jisung hug you from behind, which made you smile. You reached a hand up, bringing it to the back of Jisung's head to give him some attention as well.

"You have absolutely no clue how happy this makes us." Jisung told you, kissing your cheek.

"Well, it's making me pretty happy, too. Really happy." You told him, looking to Minho. He had his head buried in the crook of your neck, just clinging to you. "You okay, Minho?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just...really happy." Minho told you, lifting his head up to peck your lips. You really didn't blame him, since you were pretty happy too. The three of you were. And absolutely nothing could make this moment any better--

"So, can we all fuck now?" Jisung suddenly asked, causing you to go bright red and Minho to glare at him. "What?! We should, I mean, it's what we've all been waiting for, right?!"

"Sadly, he has a point." Minho grumbled, looking to you. "We'll only do it if it's okay with you, though. But if I'm being honest, I'd personally really like to fuck you."

"I mean, I'm down." You said, giving them both a smile. With that, you stepped out of their grasp, crossing your arms. "Where do we go?"

"Ooo, we can do my bedroom! I've got a full, so I can fit--"

"Barely you and me." Minho interrupted.

"Oh, right."

"My room's not much better, I've only got a full-sized bed too." Minho said. And that resulted in all eyes going to you.

"Mine's a Queen, so it's a bit better?" You said with a shrug. Upon seeing both of their eyes darken, you got your answer. Your bedroom it was. "Fine, follow me."

And so, you immediately led both boys into your room. You let them go in first, so you could shut the door. They both sat on the bed, watching as you got the door shut, as well as the blinds to your balcony door and window. And then, you took out a small remote, looking to them with curious eyes.

"Any particular color you guys like?" You asked, the boys looking at each other before Jisung spoke up.

"I mean, red is my favorite color." He said. You nodded, pressing a button on your remote. And just like that, the lights in your room went red. That just seemed to surprise them both.

"Since when did you add LEDs to your room?" Minho asked, watching you set the remote down.

"A few days ago." You responded, only for Minho to stop you.

"Well, as nice as they are for setting the mood, I wanna see you without the red lights." Minho told you. You nodded, changing them to a dimmer pink.

"Is this okay?" You asked, only for Jisung to nod.

"Fuck yeah." He said as he stood up, going over to you. In an instant, an arm was wrapped around your waist as Jisung pulled you into a kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. A hum left him as your tongues danced, and he gently guided you back to the bed.

Minho watched the two of you make out as Jisung sat on the bed, pulling you to his lap so you'd straddle him. Your hands went up into Jisung's hair and Jisung's hands gently massaging your hips, going up and down your torso. It was hot, seeing you both do this. Not to mention the small hums leaving the both of you.

It didn't take long for Minho to stand up and go behind you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. The feeling of him doing that made you whine. And that whine went straight to their cocks.

"Fuck, you sound so hot, baby." Jisung breathed out, pulling away from your lips. You just smiled lazily, going back and leaving kisses that trailed from his lips to his cheek, going down his jawline and straight to his neck.

While you did this, Minho left your neck and went to Jisung's lips, kissing him just as passionately as Jisung had kissed you. And when you add Minho's kiss with your kisses to his neck, it resulted with Jisung whining again, bucking his hips up into yours, causing both of you to moan out. Minho just smirked, pulling you off of Jisung and onto him, making Jisung whine.

"Minho--"

"Don't start with that, Ji." Minho told Jisung. He quickly maneuvered you to lay back against his chest, continuing to kiss your neck. It didn't take him long to find the hem of your shirt, gently grabbing it and lifting it a bit. "I can take this off, right?"

"Y-Yeah, sure." You said, only for your shirt to be lifted over your head. You could see Jisung's eyes widen, a whine leaving him immediately.

"Oh my god, Min, she's--oh fuck, she's so gorgeous." And like that, Jisung went towards you, feeling your collarbones and arms. He hadn't ever seen you like this, whatever he saw last night gone from his memory. But this?

Oh, Jisung could never get sick of this.

"C-Can I touch you? Please?" Jisung asked, looking up at you with those big doe eyes. How could you say no?

"Please..." You told him. Instantly, his hands went to your chest, gently fondling the mounds. Feeling them. Studying them. They felt so soft, so squishy. He wanted to lay his head on them for forever, he wanted to grope them forever, he wanted to kiss and nibble and suck on them forever.

"Here, let's get this off, shall we?" Minho asked, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra. With a slight nod from you, Minho quickly undid your bra, carefully sliding it off. And it didn't take long for Jisung to gently touch your perky nipples, rolling one in his fingers. That rewarded him with a soft moan from you.

"J-Jisung..." You whined, only for Jisung to let out a moan from your words.

"Please, I-I gotta put one in my mouth, I really need to--...please, please let me?" Jisung asked. You nodded, and within an instant, he latched on, gently sucking and flicking with his tongue. Your back arched up against Minho's chest, his hands holding you steady as Jisung continued to go at your breasts.

Though, Jisung couldn't have all the fun. Minho wanted to have fun with you, too. And so, he reached a hand around, pinching the nipple that wasn't getting any attention. And that got a pretty decent moan out of you.

That moan caused Jisung to buck his hips against the bed, a moan of his own leaving him. God, your noises were like a drug to Jisung. He was fully addicted, any noise you made got him to make one, too. He couldn't help it.

"Hey, pretty." Minho gently cooed in your ear. You looked up at him, those eyes of yours looking glossed over with lust. "Last night when you were drunk, you mentioned that you wanted Jisung's dick in your mouth. You still want it?"

"P-Please...I-If he's okay with it--are you okay with it?" You asked, looking down to Jisung. The noise that Jisung made was either a sob or a groan, you couldn't tell.

"Oh my god, please...please, I--I really want your mouth, baby--I gotta have it, please..." Jisung begged, getting up and scrambling to go and lay down on the bed. With one look to Minho and seeing his approving nod, you followed, crawling over to him.

You carefully made your way over, getting on top of Jisung before kissing his lips again, humming as Jisung kissed you urgently, sloppily...but so, so well. The kiss didn't last long, as your hands grabbed the hem of his own shirt and lifted it up and over, taking it off.

His chest had muscle. He wasn't a body builder by any means, but he definitely wasn't scrawny. His arms and chest were built well. Really well. Defined. Fit. Just the way you liked it.

Your kisses trailed down his chest, your eyes never leaving his as you went to one of his own perky nipples, gently taking it into your mouth and suckling on it, getting a moan out of Jisung's lips. And then, you continued to kiss down his abs, to his V-line, which was where you stopped, being blocked by his sweats.

You looked up at him once more, seeing his eyes on you. They were pleading you, his lips slightly swollen, but just as pouty as they always were. You smiled gently, placing a kiss onto his hard bulge, getting a desperate cry out of him.

And then, you slowly slid his sweats and boxers off, being met with his cock that sprung out, slapping against his bare stomach. You felt your eyes go wide at the sight, and your tongue unintentionally went to wet your lips.

He was beautiful.

His dick was probably 8 inches. He had girth, but he was longer rather than girthy. He had a mushroom tip, angry red and leaking like a faucet. And oh god, was he hard. Harder than you thought he'd be. But it was gorgeous all the same.

"Holy shit..." You trailed, slowly bringing your hand to it. Jisung watched you like a hawk, his body jolting as your hand slowly wrapped around him. "You're so pretty, Ji..."

"Y-You think so?" Jisung asked, watching you nod. God, he felt like he was gonna go feral. Sure, he had seen Minho's hand wrapped around his dick plenty of times, but seeing your smaller, daintier hand around his cock the way it was?

He was shocked he didn't cum on the spot.

"Mhm." You nodded, smiling as you slowly moved your hand up and down. You noticed that as you got to the tip, Jisung would whine and moan pretty loudly. You guessed he had a sensitive tip. You could use that to your advantage.

"M-Mouth...please, I nee-I really need to feel your mouth around me, please, please pl--Oh...shit...!" Jisung immediately cut himself off as your tongue trailed up his shaft, only for your mouth to encase his tip.

Your tongue swirled around him, going around the entirety of his tip before going right in between his slit, making Jisung cry out, looking to Minho, who had been watching the entire time. And as you bobbed your head, Jisung started to moan, looking to Minho.

"Is it up to your expectations?" Minho asked, watching as Jisung gathered your hair into a ponytail, guiding you to the pace he had wanted.

"Mo-More, it's so much more--beyond, I... holy fuck, Min, it's-her mouth is so fucking good, I-I can't last like this, I--"

"You better not." Minho growled, getting out of his own clothes. He walked over to the both of you, carefully pulling you off of Jisung's cock. A whine of disapproval left Jisung, not that Minho cared. "You're gonna cum when I tell you to cum, got it?"

"Bu-But Min, I--"

"Shut it." Minho growled. His voice sent shivers down your spine as his gaze left Jisung, going to you. "As for you. Take those shorts off and lay next to Jisung. Keep your panties on, though."

If you had to be honest, you were too scared to not obey Minho. You quickly got up, letting Minho go and kiss Jisung again. While they made out, you quickly pulled your shorts off, leaving you in your panties before going and lying next to Jisung on your back, waiting patiently. And when Minho looked over to you, he smiled.

"Good girl." Minho praised. It made your chest flutter, if you had to be honest. With that, Minho looked to Jisung, raising a brow. "Well? You said you wanted to taste her. Go and taste her."

"Wait--are you serious?" Jisung asked, his eyes widening at the opportunity. Upon seeing Minho's unwavering expression, Jisung immediately got up, going in between your legs and settling there.

He didn't waste any time pressing kisses to your inner thighs, his eyes not leaving yours as you squirmed in anticipation. And just as Jisung pulled back to take your panties off, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Baby, look at you...you're so wet for us. You're practically leaking through your panties." Jisung commented, gently putting a finger onto the wet patch on the cloth. You immediately squirmed, letting out a whine.

"J-Jisung..." You whimpered, Jisung pressing another kiss to your thigh.

"Don't worry, my baby. Just let me enjoy this, okay?" Jisung asked, watching you nod. He gave you a smile, before finally taking off your panties, only for his jaw to drop at the sight of you. "Oh my god...you're so beautiful, Y/n."

Jisung could barely believe his eyes at the sight of your dripping cunt. He gently spread you out, admiring every last bit of you while you squirmed in anticipation, wanting something, anything from him. It didn't take him long to press a light kiss to your clit, making your body jolt.

And then, he went at it.

He lapped at your juices, like a thirsty man in the middle of the dessert. His main focus was your clit, but every here and there his tongue would dive into your hole, trying to get every last bit of your juices out for him to taste. His tongue was skilled at it, too.

"J-Jisung! Oh my god, y-your tongue...it-it's so fucking good, holy shit!" You cried out, your hips grinding against his face. Jisung just hummed, latching back around your clit, making you squeal.

"He's skilled, isn't he?" Minho asked, kneeling down next to your head. You looked up at him, only for your eyes to widen in shock.

When did he...?

"Jisung's been waiting a long time to taste you, pretty. He's been dreaming about it, fantasizing about how good you'd taste." Minho said as he stroked his cock in front of you.

Unlike Jisung, Minho was shorter in length. You wanted to guess 6.5, maybe 7 inches. But he was way girthier. And he had way more veins. From the moans you heard Jisung let out from previous nights, you were almost 100% certain that he knew how to use it.

"M-Minho--"

"Wanna put me in that pretty mouth of yours too?" Minho asked. He watched as you nodded, another moan leaving you as Jisung put a finger inside your hole, gently pumping it in and out of you. "Go ahead, pretty. I'm not stopping you."

And so, you did. You leaned your head up, wrapping your mouth around his cock as Jisung continued to eat you out. Moans left all of you as you all continued, Jisung from your taste, you from Jisung, and Minho from you.

"Holy shit, your mouth is so addicting...Jesus Christ, baby girl..." Minho moaned out, Jisung pulling away from your pussy as he slipped another finger into you, making you moan around Minho again.

"You-You gotta taste her, Min, she's--...fuck, she's so delicious, her taste is intoxicating...nectar from the gods..." Jisung trailed, only to go back for more. You moaned around Minho once again, only for Minho to pull you off of him. You let out a small whine, though, your hands went down to Jisung's head, gripping onto his hair.

"M'gonna cum...I-It's so good, I'm gonna cum, I--"

"Oh, please, cum in my mouth, my baby. Cum on my tongue, please, I need it, do it, please baby..." Jisung pleaded, Minho leaving you two on the bed. He didn't go very far, though, as he went behind Jisung after grabbing some lube.

You weren't really focused on that though, as your mind was elsewhere. Your hand gripped onto Jisung's head as you held him against your cunt, grinding your hips and using his face to reach your orgasm. And soon enough, you cried out, your body trembling as your walls fluttered on Jisung's fingers.

"Fuck, I-I'm cumming! I'm cumming, I--holy shit, Jisung!" You moaned out, only hearing Jisung's hum of approval. He made quick work of your access juices as Minho slowly guided his hips up to the air. And once Jisung was certain that he had gotten every last bit of your cum, he moved up to hover over you.

"You taste so fucking good, baby...I could spend hours down there, days, even." Jisung cooed, while you just moaned at the sight of him. The entire bottom half of his face was dripping with your arousal and juices, glistening in the dim lights. But he didn't seem to care, leaning down to kiss you all the same. You eagerly kissed back, one of your hands going to his cheeks while the other traveled up and down his back.

And then, Jisung let out the dirtiest, sluttiest moan you've ever heard in your life.

"Fuck! M-Min, I--your fingers are--...ah, they feel so good! Min, please, I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?" Minho growled, Jisung just moaning at his words. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. With the way Jisung's hips moved back to Minho, only to be pushed away a bit, along with the expressions on his face, you figured that right now, Minho was prepping Jisung.

And he was doing one hell of a good job at it.

"Sungie..." You cooed, Jisung looking down at you after moaning at your voice. God, he wanted to hear you call him that again. That's all he ever wanted you to call him. And then, when he felt your small hand wrap around his length again?

Oh, the wail he let out was pornographic.

"Y/n, I-I gotta be in you, let me stretch that pussy out, please--...if Min's gonna fuck me, I wanna be fucking you while he does that, it'll feel so good, I promise--I...Let me make you feel good, my baby, pretty please?" Jisung pleaded, his hips bucking into your hand. Your eyes darted from his to Minho's not knowing if it'd be okay.

"Minnie?" You cooed, hearing a small curse leave Minho's lips.

"S'fine with me." Minho said, taking his fingers out of Jisung's ass, only to push his dick up against it. That action alone made Jisung whine, moving his ass back against Minho. "Just let me get into his tight ass first. Does he need a condom, or--"

"No, I-I'm on the pill. I'll be fine." You said, Jisung just groaning at the thought of getting to be inside of you raw.

"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside of you...feeling your walls around me, squeezing so tight, want it so bad, baby..." Jisung whined, only for you to hush him and pull him into another sloppy kiss.

Seeing that Jisung was distracted, Minho smirked, leaning down and placing a few kisses on Jisung's back, getting mewls of satisfaction out of his boyfriend. And then, he finally pushed in, Jisung's mouth gaping open as a loud moan left him. His face was so slutty, his pouty lips accenting the look so well. Just seeing it made you gush.

"Oh my god, M-Minho, you--you're cock's'big, s'good, Min...!" Jisung moaned, feeling Minho start to thrust into him. Minho's thrusts moved Jisung's hips in a way that made his cock grind against your wet cunt, making you whimper at the feeling.

"J-Ji, i-inside...I need you inside, please..." You whined, looking up at him with those big puppy eyes. Seeing them just made Jisung moan out, immediately replacing your hand on his length with his own, before slowly slipping inside of you.

Now it was your turn to let out a moan of satisfaction.

The way that Jisung's cock stretched you out was delicious, though, his length was much nicer, just kissing your cervix. And with Minho continuously thrusting into Jisung, it caused Jisung to thrust into you. That resulted in you and Jisung both moaning loudly, hanging onto each other as Minho fucked you both, essentially.

"Holy shit, you-you're so tight...my baby, you're--fuck--you're so tight, and wet, you're d-dripping all over my cock, baby...fuck fuck fuck!" Jisung wailed, his breath hitching as more moans left him. "M-Min, I can't, Ican'tIcan't, it's so much--too much, m'gonna cum, I can't--"

"Already? Tch, that's pathetic." Minho growled, his hand digging into Jisung's hip as his other hand wrapped around the back of Jisung's neck, driving his hips into him faster, causing both you and Jisung to cry out. "You just got inside of her, and now you're gonna cum prematurely?"

Though, in reality, it made sense to Minho.

Jisung had gotten sucked off pretty well and was already riled up when the three of you had started. And now, he was getting double the stimulation he usually does from having Minho in his ass and his dick in your cunt. Jisung wasn't used to all of this.

However, Jisung also really loved when Minho was unforgiving with his words. It's why Minho got away with a lot of what he said. And he could really tell Jisung liked what Minho was doing, just by the way Jisung moaned out and clenched around him.

"YES, I--Fuck, m'sooo close, Min, I--I'm gonna cum, please, can I? Pleasepleaseplease-"

"I don't know. Y/n, do you think he can cum?" Minho looked down at you, seeing your head thrown back as moans continued to leave your mouth.

"Mhm, please, I-I need it, Sungie...fill me, baby, please, I-I'll cum with you, m'close too, real close..." You managed to get out, Jisung's eyes widening.

"Re-Really?"

"God, yes...!"

The second Jisung heard your words, he moaned out, reaching a hand in between the two of you. It quickly found your clit, and started rubbing quick circles. That got you to squeal, gripping onto Jisung.

"I-I'm--Oh, fuck, I'm cumming!" You cried out. Your walls immediately clenched and fluttered as your orgasm coursed through you, Jisung moaning out at the same time.

"Holy shit, baby--M'gonna cum, I-I need to--"

"Inside, do it inside, please, Sungie, cum inside--"

"Fuck! Fuck, I'm cumming!" And like that, Jisung came inside of you, painting your walls white. Minho's thrusts slowed down, guiding the both of you through your orgasms, before he slowly pulled out of Jisung, letting him get off of you.

"Good girl, you're such a good girl." Minho cooed to you as you looked at him, trying to get your breathing in check. Jisung laid next to you, trying to do the same as you, but still watching as Minho lifted your legs up onto his shoulders, rubbing his cock in between your wetness, watching Jisung's seed get smeared on both you and him. "But you're not done yet. You still have me."

"I-But I--" Instead of getting to finish your sentence, Minho collided his lips with yours, kissing you urgently as he lined himself up. And then, as he pulled away from the kiss, Minho slowly entered you, the both of you letting out moans.

"Holy...you are tight, pretty. So tight and wet, holy fuck..." Minho cursed, watching you take his cock inside. You just gripped onto the bedsheets, feeling even fuller than before.

You thought Jisung was a delicious stretch? Oh, Minho's dick was stretching you out even better. You could feel his veins ride up against your walls, and while he didn't reach nearly as far as Jisung did, he still managed to somehow make you feel completely full.

"You-You're so big, Minnie...fucking hell..." You whimpered, Minho just smirking at your words as he started moving. Moans immediately left you as Minho thrusted, somehow hitting nice and deep inside of you.

"Look at you, taking me so well, pretty...fuck--you're sucking me back in, that greedy pussy's sucking me back into you, pretty..." Minho moaned out, leaning forward, almost folding you in half. His hips were moving hard and fast, zero mercy on you. And before you even knew it, his hand was down on your clit, pinching and rolling it effortlessly.

"Min-Minho! Fuck, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum so hard, I-I need to cum, please--"

"Go ahead baby, cum on my cock for me." Minho growled, his pace refusing to slow down. You immediately obeyed, gripping onto his shoulders as your body shook, your legs trembling from your orgasm that had been ripped from you. "Good girl, just like that, such a good girl for me..."

But he didn't slow down or stop abusing your clit. He continued his zero-mercy pace. He heard your screams of bliss; he could feel your hands gripping onto him and your walls clenching around him. But he pressed on, feeling himself getting closer.

"Fuck baby girl, I'm getting close--can you cum one more time? One more time, just like that." Minho moaned out. You took note of his brow furrowing, and his pace starting to get uneven. You nodded, trying to ignore your oversensitivity.

You could do it one more time. Anything for Minho.

"I-I can, I can do it..." You moaned, only to follow up with a sob as Minho went from no mercy to just ruthless. Fast, hard-pressed circles to your clit, his hips just pistoning into you. You felt so good, so tight, so wet, he honestly had no clue to how he made it this far. Yet somehow, he did.

It wasn't gonna last much longer.

"Fuck, I'm there--I'm gonna fill you up, m'gonna fill you up so much that you'll taste me, pretty--oh my god--c-cum, cum for me, cum cum cum cum cum cum--Fuck!" And like that, you both came just milliseconds within each other.

Minho went first, shooting his load deep inside of you. Just as it started, just as he moaned out oh, so loudly, you also came. The moan you let out was pornographic, the way you arched your back and your legs trembled with your eyes rolling back into your head looked like it had been ripped from a professional porno.

You had practically ascended, seeing stars.

The second Minho stilled into you, Jisung rolled over to you, pressing kisses onto your face, shoulder, neck, anywhere he could really get to you. And as Minho pulled out, going to the bathroom so he could clean the three of you up, Jisung started to talk you down.

"Good job, my baby, you did so well for us...you took us both so so well, such a good girl...come back now, okay? Come back to us." Jisung cooed, running his fingers through your hair. As your breathing stilled, you smiled, gently rolling over to Jisung. That got Jisung to smile as well, seeing Minho come back, finishing up with wiping himself off.

"There she is...you grounded now, pretty?" Minho asked, getting back onto the bed as he spread you out, starting to wipe you down.

"Yeah, I am." You mumbled, rubbing your eye a bit. You felt exhausted, and you had every reason to. A small giggle erupted from you, making both boys raise a brow, but smile.

"What are you giggling about?" Jisung asked, kissing your cheek. Minho finished cleaning you off, going to Jisung to do the same to him.

"You both are insane in the bedroom." You said to them. They both just smiled, chuckling a bit with you.

"Yeah, but it was worth it, right?" Jisung asked, watching you nod.

"Definitely."

"Well, now that you both are clean, we can just relax the rest of the night." Minho told you, going and lying down on your left. Jisung scooted closer to you on your right, pulling you into his chest. Minho wrapped his arms around you, pressing his own chest against your back. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?" You asked, looking over at Minho.

"For being in this relationship with both of us." He told you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Yeah, you really did make us happy." Jisung told you, placing a kiss onto your forehead. You smiled at their words, nuzzling your head into Jisung's chest while pressing your back into Minho's.

"I should be the one thanking you both for opening it up to me." You told them. "This would've never happened if you guys didn't want to go poly."

"Only for you." Minho told you, Jisung nodding.

"Mhm." Jisung hummed. Nothing more had to be said.

The three of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, content in each other's presence. It felt good, being in their arms. And to them, it felt amazing to have you in theirs. But then, as if on a cue, Jisung spoke up.

"Oh, and for the record..." He said softly, getting both you and Minho's attention. "I think the correct term for what you were looking for was the Roomie Effect."

"What?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Y'know, what you were writing in that pink notebook of yours? This should be called the Roomie Effect!"

"Jisung?" Minho grumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Don't make me go and get the tissues."

"Really? No shoving your cock in my throat--"

"JISUNG."

"Right, right, sorry."

What a way to end the best night of your life.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

[reveluving]

anything and everything ; paddy feld x reader x max

summary: it’s them and their girl against the fucking world.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), Max & Paddy in general (if you've seen the movies, you know how they are. but! they're pretty tame here), minor character death (deserved; horrible ex + cheating but it's okay, you win in the end) including minor mentions of blood & breaking bones type of violence, Paddy & Max would do anything for you.

a/n: ta-da!! you don't know how excited I was to write this. had to rewrite a few things but I was too into the idea, I didn't mind kdlsajk and mind you, it's EXTRA nasty in this one, so, keep that in mind! please enjoy, take care & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! 🕷️'!

» smut includes: mildly DARK fic! mm4f, size kink, lovestruck & possessive (slightly mean) doms!paddy & max, shy-esque mc, ‘baby’ & ‘pretty girl’ as petnames, dirty talking, facesitting/oral s~ex (both f & m receiving, clothed(?) too), spit & tit play, marking, spanking, brief mentions of blood play (doesn’t happen), brief mentions of age gap (legal & consenting!!), teasing & mentions of punishment, did I mention possessive paddy & max yet?

'And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.' ;

Paddy’s fingers thrummed along the shape of the steering wheel, subtly displaying his excitement even at such an hour. The music coming from the radio was partially his saving grace from the fairly long drive but the anticipation of what was to come expelled any form of restlessness in his body.

The road he took practically didn’t exist on the map, but he had no problem navigating his destination the deeper he went into the woods, not when he had taken the route many times for the past couple of months for this very moment.

Slowly yet surely, he spotted a familiar car, the headlights remaining on were enough for Paddy to see a man overlooking something before him. He knew his landlord long enough to recognize the large, taller frame in the distance. He spotted the bundle of clothes by his feet, along with the rocks of different sizes next to it, and Paddy knew he had begun.

Good thing, too, for it was mere hours before your alarm would go off, and they wanted to be by your side as soon as you opened your pretty eyes.

Without wasting any time, Paddy turned the engine of his car off before exiting the vehicle, sauntering over to his good friend—your other partner—and standing next to him.

“Took you long enough.” Max scoffed, though largely jesting to get under Paddy’s skin.

“She slept later than usual.” Paddy explained, one corner of his lips quirking at the memory of mere hours ago, of him snuggling you against him, lulling you to sleep with kisses and pats before quietly leaving the unit once he was confident you were truly out like a light.

“She couldn’t sleep?” Max glanced at his friend, a hint of worry in his rich voice, to which Paddy shook his head.

“She’s just excited for tomorrow.” Ah, Halloween.

Max hummed in understanding, then cut the conversation, or at least, the subject short. As much as he’d love to ask how you were doing, he and Paddy had business to take care of, and the ‘business’ in question stood right in the trench before them.

Chad, or really, they’d just prefer to call him ‘your ex’, stood naked in the ditch, shivering and battered from Max’s need to pour his frustration out on him an hour prior—remembering all the stories you’d tell them of how he had the gall to swoop in and take you from them, even if you weren’t theirs yet. 

It was one thing to steal you from them, but it was another to treat you like you were worth less than cheap dirt. Manipulating you into thinking his mistreatments were just you ‘being a big baby’ or accusing you of how ‘possessive’ you were when he would ‘just casually talk’ to other women when you found the bravery to break up with him a year ago.

But were they really surprised by a pompous man, no, boy, with dodgy secrets? Spending his old money on pointless luxuries and meeting up with low lives behind his old girlfriends’ backs, including yours. It was a good thing you were out of the relationship earlier than his previous exes, but fuck, if Paddy and Max didn’t want to gouge his eyes out for even mistreating you in the first place. 

They could never forget the tears in your eyes and on your cheek when you stopped by, reassuring them with a wobbly smile that you had ended the relationship, but not without seeing the man’s true colours by berating you for leaving him.

But that was in the past. The months that came after were nothing but bliss, for you and them. You didn’t think Paddy nor Max were open to the idea—the three of you—but you were proven wrong. You should’ve expected it, though, with how Paddy and Max were more or less alike, including but not limited to their ‘innocent’ flirting with you before it all went down.

But it wasn’t just the relationship that had them in high spirits.

It wasn’t hard to find his information online—the sucker was as terrible as an ‘influencer’ nowadays, and it was even easier to air his secrets out, destroying relationships including with his own family and even transferring most of his savings to shelters because why the hell not. 

At one point, Max couldn’t resist taking a video of the poor guy borderline begging the lady he cheated with when you were still together at their usual meeting spot at a bar.

He and Paddy had the time of their lives watching the embarrassing scene, even anonymously sharing it on his hacked account before days later, Paddy tampered with the same woman’s drink enough for her to overdose and successfully framed your ex ‘as revenge for public humiliation’. 

Yes, the past few months were priceless, to say the least.

But they never spent the whole time ruining the man’s life all the time, no, they had a beloved to take care of. The time to ruin lives could come whenever they pleased, but not precious moments with you.

Besides, wasn’t it more entertaining to drag out one’s victim’s despair just a little longer? The reactions to their downfall mattered, after all.

And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.

“Doesn't look like he's got a lot of fight in ‘em.” Paddy snorted.

“Good.” Max replied, short but well-pleased.

“Hey, man…” Chad croaked, and Max and Paddy immediately grimaced, “I didn't think she meant that much to you…. Honest…”

The two rolled their eyes in annoyance.

“At least think of a better lie, kid,” Max sighed, “‘s'not like we'd let you go if you did.”

Paddy huffed, amused at the truth in his words. If anything, they'd be doing the world a favour, removing a little parasite—yours, theirs, his ‘friends’ and exes, and hell, even his family—all while getting to call you theirs.

But, it was satisfying to see the pathetic sod being, well, pathetic. A way better look on him than the infuriatingly cocky façade he'd put up around others for whatever the hell he was leering for then.

“I’m not..! I–C'mon, I didn't even lay a hand on her–” Chad reasoned weakly, only to further set them off.

“You better pray you fucking didn't.” Paddy snarled. He and Max knew he didn't, but it didn't ease their anger any less because, at the end of the day, he still manipulated you in some way, using a few tricks to make you seem like you were the ‘overthinking’ one even if it didn't entirely work. 

At the end of the day, he did you harm.

“Alright, y'got anything else to say, kid?” Max leaned his weight on one leg, adjusting the black gloves he had been wearing since he dragged the guy in the middle of nowhere. Paddy, too, put on his gloves as he turned around, all while eyeing the rocks.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Chad spoke in urgency, his teeth chattering from the chilly air, “I can pay up! I won’t tell anybody shit about this–”

“No, you won’t,” Max agreed as he interjected, honestly not wanting to listen to him anymore, “Not especially her name out of your mouth.”

Against his better judgement, Chad had the gall to shout at the mere mention of you.

“Her?” He yelled, his annoyance picking back when Max brought your name up multiple times during this whole thing, “Why the fuck does she matter to you that much anywa–” 

Crunch.

Chad's head whipped to the side as the sizable rock Paddy threw landed at his temple, the sound horrific but satisfying to the two.

“Easy,” Max drawled, swiftly picking up a rock and inspecting it, “No fun in killing him already.” 

“You wanna listen to him talk ‘bout her like that?” Paddy grunted, chest rising and falling at the audacity of a man who was on the brink of death.

“Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm pissed,” Max replied coolly, hiding his temper behind nonchalance. He felt the weight of the rock he held before eyeing Chad with a dangerous look, “But the head? Pat, come on, we made it this far. Play around with him a little.” 

Paddy didn't have the time to reply as Max held the rock above him before throwing it, aiming right at Chad's leg with almost the same, if not, a nastier sound of impact than when Paddy threw it. 

Chad yowled, falling to the ground before groaning in sheer pain. He could only sob on the ground, specks of dirt already in his eyes and mouth.

“See?” Max smiled cruelly, “Make him feel it, just like she had to.”

Just speaking of it riled him up just as it did to Paddy. They wanted to finally, finally get it rid of him, sure, but there was no harm in having fun with it just a little longer. They'd clean up the mess anyway, might as well say their final goodbyes to the son of a bitch for good.

“Yeah… Yeah, alright.” Paddy mirrored his friend's cold-blooded contentment, picking up another rock, this time, hoping to break any parts of his bones without instantly killing him just yet.

And just like that, Chad wished for his ultimate death as they prolonged his torture.

You, back in Paddy’s unit, were none the wiser, slowly from your deep sleep. You turned, anticipating Paddy upon opening your bleary eyes, only to blink at the sight of Max, watching you with a warm smile as he lay on his side.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted, bringing his hand to your face and caressing your cheek.

“G'morning…” You murmured with a shy smile, hiding one side of your face in the pillow.

“Oh, no, don't do that now,” Max chuckled, “Don't hide that pretty face from me.”

Even half asleep, he could make you giggle first thing in the morning.

“How'd you sleep?” He asked, his voice almost enough to lull you back to sleep.

“Good,” You responded, unaware of their little escapade hours ago. You yawned, “You?”

“Like a baby,” He grinned, causing your heart to flutter. In reality, he hadn't had a wink of sleep since he and Paddy drove back home, but the adrenaline of putting the bastard down gave him more than enough energy to see you, “Come here.”

Max gently led you to his lap, encouraging you to straddle his hips while resting your head on his chest, “Atta girl.”

You couldn't resist relaxing in his arms, not when he was so warm and comfortable, and he didn't want you to do so either, kissing the crown of your head while his hands slid up and down your sides.

But you knew Max long enough to know his touches didn't always stay innocent as his hands roamed lower and lower and lower before reaching the hem of your nightdress.

You eyed him suspiciously, “Max…”

He just hummed, leaning in to kiss your temple and cheek, “That's me.” 

You huffed at his wits, only for your eyes to flutter shut as his hands roamed under the fabric, “Max, c'mon, I just woke up…”

You were a little worried about your morning breath and how you looked from just waking up, but he was having none of it.

“Can't hear you.” He drawled lowly against your skin, pulling you closer so he could latch his lips onto your neck. You jolted at the feeling of Max's palms gripping and kneading your ass, your body only growing tauter when a third hand slid up the curve of your back.

 trick-or-treaters“Starting without me, pretty girl?” Paddy cooed, leaning in to kiss your cheek, the other side that Max hadn't touched yet.

“Paddy…” You whimpered, and as soon as you turned your head to look at him, briefly noticing he was shirtless, he slotted his lips against yours, the fingers of his other hand brushing along your neck before descending to your clothed breasts.

The haziness in your mind grew more than when you woke up, feeling pairs of lips and hands mark your body with vigour.

Max sat up, forcing you and Paddy to break the kiss as he slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

Paddy took a seat on the edge of the mattress, kissing your shoulder from behind, feeling his spine-chilling groans reverberating against your back. 

And with two sick minds thinking alike, images of you covered in your ex’s blood in between them fueled their uncontrollable desires. Too bad every last drop of it had to be drained for obvious reasons. But it wouldn't hurt to imagine what could've been every once in a while. 

So long the deed was done. 

Good riddance, bitch.

Paddy pulled at your tits between his fingers, the same time Max nipped at the space between your neck and shoulder, leaving the barest hint of mark that begged to be darker. 

More long-lasting, prominent for the world to see.

“How ‘bout it, baby? Think you can for a quick round before we let you go?” Max asked. They could've convinced you to stay in bed longer if not for the candies you had promised to buy before the last minute in the afternoon for trick-or-treaters tonight.

“We'll take good care of you.” Paddy added, as they always did.

You pleaded with the two with a look that was to die for and it wouldn't take long for them to act upon your request, leaving you in your pretty undies, almost tearing off your sleepwear when they removed the pesky article.

Max was eager to lay on his back, encouraging you to move back a little and position your ass just above his face, making you face Paddy, whose pants were off, teasing you by fondling his prominent tent with a smug smile.

You weren't sure whether to focus on him or Max’s cock standing tall each time you looked down, awaiting your soft lips and its careful licks.

You jumped at Max’s playful slaps and massages of your ass, prompting Paddy to coo as he neared until his shins touched the bed.

“Playin’ a lil’ rough, isn’t he, baby?” He cradled your jaw, almost condescendingly mimicking your parted lips as Max licked you through the flimsy panties. He gently led your head by the chin to his bulge and sighed in contentment, “Yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“My good girl.” Max grunted, biting his lips upon moving your panties to the side before licking a big stripe along your pussylips like a man starved, even more so when he couldn’t help but spank you three more consecutive times, downright suffocating himself when trapped your thighs around his head.

“Max…” You cried into Paddy’s tented pants, nuzzling him like it would calm Max down, but they couldn’t blame you, knowing your mind was already mush. 

You could already imagine the familiar beard burns decorating your inner thighs.

Paddy pouted, “Baby, ‘m’feeling a lil’ lonely,” Brushing your bottom lip with his thumb, he stared at your through lidded eyes, “You know what t’do, yeah?”

You did, you always did.

Keeping your eyes on him, you mouthed along the girth of him, leaving little trails of drool because ‘there is nothing sexier than our sweet girl making a mess out of them’. Their words, not yours.

Giving a low growl, he slid his sweatpants down for you, “That’s it.”

He didn’t bother putting on boxers, already anticipating such ‘morning routine’ if he and Max were going to make it until the evening before they could get their hands on you again.

Of course, that didn’t mean they’d play nice behind closed doors when the trick-or-treaters weren’t around.

His pants dropped to the floor with a soft thud, his hard cock ached for you if the subtle twitches were anything to go by.

But Max, still eating you out and practically leaving marks on your behind, shoved his tongue into you just a tad deeper, reminding you that he, too, needed you.

You could only let a little glob of drool drip onto Max’s cock, then slowly wrapped your fingers around it before sliding your hand down to the base. Paddy clenched his jaw, greedy for the same treatment when Max bucked into your hand. He loosened just a tad bit when you finally leaned in, taking a small, cautious lick at the tip of him.

Somehow, somehow, Max knew your teasing behaviour and brought his palm down on your already sensitive rear. You weren’t sure how he wasn’t begging for air at this point the more your thighs tightened around him—if only you knew how much he wouldn’t mind dying that way.

Paddy tutted in disapproval, gently tapping his cock on your cheek, “Not very nice of you.”

“Think she deserves a little punishment?” Max spoke against your cunt, spreading your cheeks and downright spitting at your hole.

“I’m sure she can handle a few,” Paddy responded, eyes rolling back when you moaned around him the more he pushed himself into your mouth. He continued through gritted teeth, “And then, we’ll give her everything. Just like she deserves.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: this was initially a standalone fic for Max but then I was like mmm OMG what about with Max and Negan but then... I also wanted to write for Paddy, so... yeah ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[thenewblackcanvas]

Woof | atz (18+)

ateez (ot8) x reader; yunho and mingi x reader nsfw mentioned 18+ only, minors dni Themes: pet play, dark magic, kidnapping

“Good pup.” the words rasped in your ear made you whimper, pushing your ass back further. The man behind you tightened his grip on your hip roughly.

The other man smiled wider as his fingers tightened around the pretty, red collar. “I do love a pup that likes to be used. Obedient ones are the most fun. Don’t forget that.” his words confused you briefly. You were already being so obedient, letting these two practically strangers use you how they wanted. Kneeling, sucking them off, begging; you did everything with no question. You didn't exactly mull it over though as thoughts were barely able to stay in your mind as the taller man hiked your hips up, lifting your knees completely off the bed as he plowed into you faster. The high he was chasing must've been intoxicating as he lost all semblance of control.

You gasped and screamed and moaned. The man next to you lets go of the collar to grab your hair. He pushed your head down, turning it to the side so he could look at you for a moment before sloppily kissing you.

As embarrassing as it was, being handled so roughly, being called an animal, and the feeling of this stranger releasing into you brought you over the edge. Hard. You barely felt him bring your knees back to the bed before everything started to shift and darken. You’d never cum that hard but everything felt off-kilter now. You heard them say one last thing.

“Good pup.” 

~

Everything comes into view slowly.

Your lids feel heavy but you manage to keep them open. As you start to make out what's in front of you, your heart starts to race. It is fairly dark with some light illuminating what is in front of you. Metal bars?

You look past them seeing where some of the light is coming from. It looks like a piece of fabric thrown in front. You move your heavy body forward. You can’t fully feel your whole body yet but you manage to rest your head on the bars in front of you. A rough breath you let out at the exertion moves the cloth confirming it is fabric.

But as you realize this, you freeze as you hear voices.

“I think I saw the blanket move.”

“Pretty sure it’s the air con.”

Someone chuckles. “No I think our new pup is up.”

You hear them getting closer before the fabric is lifted away. Your eyes struggle against the brightness for a moment. It’s clear now though that you are in some kind of cage, looking left and right at all the metallic bars surrounding you. You finally look up beyond them to see three large men standing over you.

You cower back. They're all looking at you with amused faces. The one holding the blanket smiles down at you but it makes you shiver. The two next to him crouch down looking more curious in their amusement. 

“She’s so cute! But is she really a good choice? Yunho and Mingi got her pretty quick.”

At the names, you remember the two men you let use you. They were with you before you lost consciousness. You couldn’t help the fear and anger that rose in you at this. You growled lowly before stopping, surprised at the sound you made.

“Aww she’s angry.” The oreo hair one laughed.

“I don’t think someone quite realizes what has happened yet.” The one standing says. He walks toward the steps sat in the back of the room calling up to others.

You hear multiple pairs of feet descending the stairs. Five more men come toward your prison. You can’t see all of them well at first but you coward again, moving back to the far wall. 

One man comes forward, with you finally able to see his taunting face. It’s Yunho, the tall man from before. You begin to yell at him, making a fuss. They all start to laugh, some of them cooing at you in between. It’s only then that you hear yourself.

The explicatives you think you're yelling aren’t coming out that way. You’re barking. And not a cheap ‘bark bark’ imitation, real and true barking. The other man, Mingi, comes forward holding a large mirror in front of your small cell. 

What looks back at you is a small dog. Yorkshire terrier type looking scared in the reflection.

The sight shocks you more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You’re still not fully aware of your body yet but you can feel yourself shaking with warmth forming under you.

Another man next to the first one frowns. “Aww poor thing, she pissed herself.”

You can’t even proccess what he said as your mind is spinning. You’re whimpering and shaking, not sure how any of this is happening. It hardly processes as he opens what you now know to be a dog crate, lifting you out. He’d taken the blanket from the other man, now holding you in his arms. “Shhh darling. It’s alright.”

“Jesus, seonghwa she’s covered in piss. Don’t hold her.”

“It only happened because you didn’t ease her into it like we planned, Joong. Why did you take the blanket off?”

“Sannie saw the blanket move and Wooyoung was a second away from getting up anyway. I figured she was up so I wanted to rip the bandaid off.”

Seonghwa scoffed.

“We should probably introduce ourselves then.”

“I’m San.” said man bends over, scratching your head. 

The man beside him goes next. “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Hongjoong.” “Jongho” “Yeosang!” 

“Seonghwa.” the gentle man holding you says. You look up, seeing his tender smile and kind eyes puts you slightly at ease yet confuses you. 

“And you already know us, huh?” Yunho laughs as he and Mingi reach out to pet you.

You snap at them, almost biting Mingi and growling. He pulls away, slightly offended but Yunho just chuckles. “You’ll be alright. There’s no way out of this anyway.”

Seonghwa calms you, turning you away from the two before speaking again. “Now that she’s awake we need to finish setting up.”

Hongjoong nods. “San, Wooyoung, clean up the crate. Jongho, Yeosang, go set up the room. Yunho and Mingi go run her a bath.”

They all split following the man’s orders. You simply listen at the conversation between the two remaining men before it drowns out. You think about how this happened. Simply relaxing at the park, you were interrupted by a little dog. You thought it was weird how excited and loud the dog was barking at you but that’s when Yunho made his way over. He just picked her up and kept her in one arm extending the other to you. Something felt off in the way the dog looked at you and barked like it was trying to tell you something but excitable dogs aren’t cause for alarm since it wasn’t aggressive. You really should have taken it as a warning sign, a red flag, but how could you have known?

After a little bit, Seonghwa takes you into the bathroom where your original captors are. Yunho’s sleeves are pulled up as he stands from beside the tub. Mingi finishes adding the soap, putting a washcloth on the side.

“I’ve got it from here.” Seonghwa says dismissing the other two. They nod and leave.

He gently sets you down on the conter, letting the soiled blanket drop. With soft hands he takes take something from around your neck. After a few heavy blinks, you realize the man doesn’t look so giant anymore. The feeling of something cold under you makes you look down. You gasp noticing legs. Your legs. Finally, you're back to yourself.

You look to Seonghwa as he smiles sweetly, putting something down. It was the collar. You recognize it as the same one you wore during your time with Yunho and Mingi. Though much smaller.

“Wha-”

“Sit there. I’ll grab a towel then help you in.”

You can only blink, still in disbelief as he speaks like something extraordinary didn’t just happen. They really are the culprits of this weird magic. As you look back over to the little red collar it finally dawns on you. The collar. The one that was sitting on the counter. The one that was on the dog in the park. It was reason you were small and furry less than a minute ago.

Sliding down from the counter onto unsteady legs, you look to Seonghwa who was staring at you now with the towel in hand. Your brain freezes for a moment as he simply looks on before all of your thoughts scream,

‘run’

‘Run’

‘RUN’

Summoning all your energy, you fling open the bathroom door. Running through the halls you spot a door with frosted glass above it. ‘It must be the front door!’ you tell yourself. You run frantically, practically slamming yourself into it. 

As your hands fumble with the locks you hear something and turn to see the others sat around the room staring at you. They look almost bored, though Wooyoung is snickering with his gaze lower. Suddenly you're aware of the fact that you are still nude.

As the big lock above the knob finally gives, you toss the thought aside. Surely you’ll get one of those blankets they give victims when you are resuced.

You see the outside and, still not hearing anyone chase you, throw yourself out the door. Running onto the porch and down the steps. Two feet from the front house one of your larger strides seems to fail you. You go forward, flipping before landing. 

It takes a second after being disoriented to get your mind back but before you can run again you're being lifted off the ground. You wiggle and writhe starting to yell as loud as you can before hearing it. You’re yowling.

‘No, no not again’ The sound is loud and desperate and obviously not of a human, one of a neglected pet. 

Yeosang picks you up, holding you tucked under his arm. “Sorry puppy.” He sounds exasperated but sincere, it doesn't stop you from wiggling in his hold though.

Once the door closes again you deflate at your attempt gone so wrong. He passes you off to another though you don’t see who as you’re too downhearted to bother looking. It isn’t until you’re back in the bathroom that the man talks. 

“You still smell. You’re lucky you’re so cute or we would leave you like this and put you back in the crate.” It’s Yunho. At the sound of his voice, you start to squirm again. 

“Hey hey hey!” He sits you on the counter and taps your nose. A strange feeling spreads from where he tapped through your body, making your body weak and your little legs collapse. You growl angrily.

He just laughs and stands straight again to add hot water to the cooling bath. As you sit there unsure of what to do, Seonghwa comes back in. He flicks his hand, not sparing you a glace, turning you back. His eyes don’t seem to want to meet yours, which gives you a strange pang in your chest.

Yunho beckons you to the tub. He helps you in, waiting until you're seated to grab the washcloth. It should bother you that he’s going to wash you or that the door to the bathroom is open with them coming in and out but your brain is starting to float now. Not quite there enough to fully accept what is happening to you, in a state or shock over the real magic being exhibited, and starting to fade to protect your sanity.

Your wandering eyes land on the collar. You try to figure out how you were wrong, you were so sure it was the collar. It made so much sense.

Yunho follows your gaze and catches on to your train of thought. “Awww, you really thought you had figured it out huh? That’s why little puppies should stick to being cute, they don’t need their dumb brains.”

“The collar isn’t what made you this way” Seonghwa joins. He hands Mingi a large towel for you. “It strengthens the magic but you’re attached to us now, pup. If you go further than 10 feet from us, it kicks in the protect you.”

You want to scoff but you can’t bring yourself to. You watch as he leaves the room without another word, this time closing the door.

The feel of Yunho’s hands become apparent, so you will yourself to think about anything else. You can’t stop thinking about the collar. Your mind floats back to the excitable dog at your first meeting.

“What happened to them?” You ask cautiously. “The other person?��

For minute they’re quiet before asking “Our other pup?”

You nod slowly.

Yunho smirks not answering so Mingi speaks instead. “Remember what I said about obedient pups? Well disobedient ones are trouble…an inconvenience. They don’t get to be taken care of.”

“As a puppy or a human.” Yunho adds ominously.

Letting the words sink in, you start to tremble. Sniffling can be heard as they work to rinse your back.

The taller man sighs, placing a large hand on the side of your face to hold it carefully. “Just…be good.”

It’s all he can give in the form of comfort. He looks uncomfortable yet genuine before returning to rinsing you off.  

You latch onto these words. Along with Seonghwa’s softness and them having yet to hurt you or seeming like they want to are the things your frazzled brain clings to for some form of comfort. 

Just be good.

Just be good.

[ploppythespaceship]

Uglies - Movie Thoughts

On a whim, I decided to start re-reading the Uglies series a couple months ago -- so imagine my surprise when I found out it was getting a movie! Said movie is now out, and it was interesting to watch with the book being so fresh in my head.

Overall, it's... eh. It's not a complete train wreck, the way most critics seem to want you to think, but it is fairly bland and uninspired. It's a very watered down version of the book. It also has the misfortune of feeling like yet another a Hunger Games wannabe, despite the original book pre-dating that series by several years.

Spoilers for everything under the cut.

What I Liked

Based on reviews, I seem to be in the minority here, but I thought the cast was pretty good. People seem to hate Joey King as Tally, but I thought she was fine. Brianne Tju is easily the best in the cast, stealing the whole damn movie as Shay. Laverne Cox also gives an excellent performance as Cable, though I do think she should not have been given that role for other reasons (which I'll get into later).

I've also seen complaints that the characters aren't ugly enough. They talk about how ugly they are and point out their specific ugly features, when they don't actually appear that ugly. And I think everyone complaining about that is completely missing the point. The "Uglies" aren't actually ugly -- they're just normal people, who've been conditioned to think their imperfect features are hideous.

I was honestly unsure how the Pretties would be visualized -- in fact, I wondered if the book would just be fundamentally unadaptable because of it -- but they did a fairly good job. I think leaning on CGI and unnatural affectations was the right way to go. All the Pretties have this uncanny quality to them that suits the story perfectly.

The overall production design was solid as well. I like how Uglyville is all gray concrete and muted tones, while New Pretty Town is shimmering golds. Then upon reaching the Smoke, all the colors of nature finally come through. I do think that could have pushed that last one a little bit more, but it still works well.

Apart from that, I don't really have much to shout out. It's competently written, well-performed, well put together. I know it doesn't sound like I have much praise, but it is a competent movie.

What I'm Mixed On

By far the biggest change from the book is Peris becoming a Special. And I'm torn on it. On the one hand, it does make him a bigger part of the story -- he's honestly not much more than an inciting incident in the book. It gives him and Tally a unique arc that's probably the strongest through-line in the story. On the other hand, the Specials as a concept are so under-cooked (more on that later) and the actor is so bland that it still doesn't quite land the way it's supposed to.

What I Didn't Like

The pacing of this movie is by far its worst issue. We are flying through this plot. There is no time for anything to breathe, for characters to develop meaningful connections, for the bigger moments to feel earned. Some things do make sense to condense -- Tally's journey to the Smoke would have been incredibly boring without her internal monologue, so condensing most of that into a montage makes sense. But I do feel we lost too much. That's where a lot of Tally's characterization comes out, where we can see her bravery and ingenuity -- none of that comes across in the movie.

A lot of important beats are rushed. Tally agreeing to help Dr. Cable is over in a flash. It feels like Tally's in the Smoke for all of fifteen minutes. Tally and David barely interact, so their relationship has no real stake. Everyone is kidnapped by Special Circumstances, and then rescued immediately after. I almost think a 5-6 episode mini-series would have worked better -- but that might have introduced the opposite problem, where everything takes too long.

The movie also has frequent montages that don't really work. It seems like they were trying to show the passage of time, but it just makes everything feel even shorter.

The beginning of the movie has an exposition problem, as well. It opens with a montage explaining the entire setting... before leading into several scenes that also explain the setting through dialogue. We get fed the same details about the surgery and the Rusties and the flowers at least three times at the start, and it gets grating.

As already mentioned, Tally is pretty severely underwritten. In the book, she has a distinct personality and a unique presence. In the movie, she's just the main character because she happens to be the main character. Her intelligence and resourcefulness are pretty much gone.

I also think changing her motivation for going to the Smoke did her a disservice. In the book, Tally goes to the Smoke so she can have her surgery, and because she's convinced herself that Shay needs her help. In the movie, Dr. Cable tells her that the Smokies have a weapon, and she will be saving lives by helping to find them. I think giving her a more selfless motivation robs her of her character arc. She always comes across as someone trying to help, who wants to best for other people, rather than someone who had to consciously learn that.

The Specials are barely even a presence. I'm not sure they were even directly called Specials. People who hadn't read the book would never realize that there was an entire separate status of person here. You never see their disturbingly beautiful faces or their terrifying strength. Considering how pivotal the Specials are to the overall story, especially in the later books, it's really odd not to see them properly established here.

Like I said, Laverne Cox gives an excellent performance as Dr. Cable... but I think they should have thought twice before casting a trans woman. It's not necessarily that there's a trans woman in the villainous role, but that there's a trans woman in the villainous role who specifically wants to force people to have surgeries to brainwash them. Like... did the optics of that really not occur to anyone? At all? I think Cox could have played David's mother, instead.

[genshin-side-piece]

I have a yandere Neuvillette concept that has been haunting me, especially in regard to how you write him cause I really loved your series on him :3c

So imagine a Neuvillette after he kidnapped darling. He understands why you're upset, and though he will not let you go he does feel a little guilty about keeping you with him. He justifies it by telling himself (and you) that it is for your own safety and protection.

BUUUUUUT imagine Neuvillette judging a trial where the defendant did the EXACT same thing. They kidnapped someone and help them against their will for several months. The defendant implores to him and the audience that they did it to protect the victim, they did it for love.

I think Neuvillette has overseen many trials where the defendant broke the law but still had a sympathetic reason to do so - like a person who killed in self defense or someone who stole to survive. Unfortunately, I don't think there is any canon material that explores this (as far as I know - hopefully I am wrong), but I think a non-yandere Neuvillette would not let his judgement be completely clouded by the defendant's motives. They still broke the law so off to Meropide they go, but he knows when to be lenient and understanding about it.

Back to yandere Neuvillette, this trial puts him between a rock and a hard place. This defendant did the exact same thing Neuvillette did to you, he understands their motives very well. If this is a post-Archon quest Fontaine then he has complete control over the defendant's fate. Should he judge this defendant fairly, as he had with millions of ever? If he sends the defendant to Meropide, then doesn't this mean Neuvillette is guilty in the eyes of the law as well? Deep down, does he secretly think he is above the law? That his darling's well being is more important than any legislation?

But if he declares the defendant not guilty then what will this mean for the future of Fontaine? Other criminals may see this and realize that doing things for "love" is a morally sound motive to the fair Iudex. Crime, especially kidnapping related ones, might increase! The people would question why the Chief Justice declared someone not guilty when they CLEARLY committed a heinous crime. Victims of similar crimes in Fontaine might not see Neuvillette has a pillar of justice, but of someone who undermines it (a harsh realization that you had to go through when he kidnapped you).

I imagine that whatever Neuvillette's decision is, he's a little shaken up after the trial. He goes home and seeks your (unwilling) comfort, pulling you into his arms for an embrace, even if you protest and try to slip away. He treats you a little differently afterwards; maybe he relaxes on the rules and regulations he enforced on you and gives you a bit more freedom, or maybe he doubles down on his decision to keep you and gets more frustrated when you fight back.

This made me so happy! TY for sending! 😊 I love to talk about this kind of stuff. I wish I got to do it more. I'm placing this under a cut, with warnings just to be safe.

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

Neuvillette's grey area. It's my favorite thing about him.

Here's what makes him fun. He knows how to work the law(s) to his advantage. We see that with the traveler in 4.1. Neuvillette "invents" charges for the traveler to be sent to Meropide. He does so by getting them to commit a petty crime in the form of eating Furina's discarded cake. The traveler is unaware of said crime until they're sent to the actual fortress. Only then do they realize that Neuvillette pulled a harmless fast one on them. Later, we see him do it again when he goes behind Furina's back for the sake of the nation. I'm sure he felt horrible about it and tried to apologize afterwards, but he still went through with it because there was a greater good that needed to be fulfilled.

Same kind of principle applies here. Your safety is everything to him. Up until he finds you, he believes you to be in mortal danger. I imagine the moment of you just walking out all fine was a bit anticlimactic for him, but he would definitely take that over the alternative.

Through the power of his office, Neuvillette tricks the reader into coming with him vs taking them by force. The confinement portion gets a little stickier in terms of the laws. Neuvillette's reasons for taking you are sound. Those same reasons carry through to him keeping you. He was worried. He was concerned. As one of the leaders of Fontaine, he's merely performing his duty in protecting you. He can't guarantee your safety from the perceived threat if you go home. No, it's better if you stay with him until the threat passes, which could be never btw. Just because the serial k*ller has been caught, doesn't mean there aren't others who would seek to do you harm. The mafia/cartels or even the fatui are still lurking. All it would take is one report that lists potential targets with a description that vaguely matches yours and he's set with his excuse.

Just as an aside, in my mind, Neuvillette carries some built in immunity. He has a sterling reputation. It’s not fully mentioned in the story, but even if he were accused of a crime, who would believe that person? He’s the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Someone who is purposefully written above reproach in the eyes of the population. He’s not infallible, but I feel like it would take a ton of convincing for anyone to believe Neuvillette had broken the law. Then there’s the matter of who judges him? Neuvillette is the judge. Who judges the judge in a nation with no archon?

In terms of the poor soul that has found their way before him, Neuvillette would 100% find that individual guilty regardless of his actions. Laws are laws and Neuvillette's main purpose in the story is uphold those laws. Where it gets iffy is how that person is sentenced. What is the appropriate level of justice for the crime? One could argue that the reader has already extracted a specific level of justice from Neuvillette based on how they treat him. How he feels about the trial afterwards is an interesting debate. Where Neuvillette and you start vs where you end in the series are two very different places. Since we’re talking specifically about the post-archon quest relationship between the two, I’m not sure how shaken he would be. The relationship is in a very different place from where the first story picks up. I can see him visiting his past feelings on the subject and briefly questioning specific things, but in the end it doesn’t matter to him based on how the series ends.  

Still, for the purpose of this though, I can see him going home and bringing you close. How willing you want to be is up to you. 😊