#Give me friends and lovers with irreconcilable differences

[wintrbears]

Irreconcilable Differences | JJK & KNJ (1/2)

Summary: You broke up with Jungkook almost a year ago, but have to see him again for the first time at a mutual friend's wedding. He's sharing a hotel room with his best friend, and just when you happen to step inside it, the hotel goes on lockdown, leaving you no choice but to stay with the two of them for the next twenty-four hours.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon

Genre: Exes to Lovers?, Threesome, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Crack (kinda?)

Word Count: 16.3k+

Warnings: crying, wedding, beach/ocean, drinking, thunderstorm, fighting, the subway, a breakup, mention of police, involuntary confinement, gas leak, hotel, ex-boyfriend, heartbreak. SMUT: threesome, kissing, penetrative sex, double penetration, anal sex, oral sex (both receiving), unprotected sex (references to bc), cream pie, cum eating, facial, titty sucking, hand job (m receiving), brief rim job, cum swallowing, face riding/fucking dick riding, spit roasting/eiffel tower, aftercare, neck kisses, choking, hair pulling, alrighty I think that's everything hehe.

Author's Note: say it with me now everyone: two bad bitches AT. THE. SAME. DAMN. TIME. guys I am so excited for this one omg! I hope y’all love this namkook filth as much as I do lol. it’s my first time writing a threesome and I wanted to do a good job for my two best boys!! this fic is like 60% smut and 40% plot 🥵 and also surprise! I decided to give them a part 2 bc I felt like I needed to tell more of this couple’s story, so that will be coming soon!! ilysm and enjoyyy :)

You claim it’s irreconcilable differences. Jungkook calls it you being unreasonable. You end things. Five beautiful years spent learning about one another, falling in love, and eventually finding an apartment to share, all for the castle to come crumbling down on one terrible, godforsaken, stormy evening. 

Jungkook runs after you into the rain upon your theatrical exit from the apartment, because of course he does, and following a ten minute screaming match practically louder than the thunderstorm itself, he manages to drag you back inside. Like the weak woman you are, you assist him in stripping the drenched clothes from your bodies before letting him make love to you one last time on the very couch you chose together years prior. 

By sunrise, you and your essentials are gone and a handwritten note is left on the coffee table stating you’ll come back for the rest of your belongings another time. 

Strangers look at you sympathetically because of your loud weeping on the subway ride to your best friend’s place. You suppose it’s better than them judging you, given that you must look insane with the multiple haphazardly packed bags strewn across your body and evident hickies dusting your neck and shoulders. 

Jungkook calls at least a hundred times, leaving voicemail after voicemail until your phone no longer allows him to leave any more. Before the clock strikes noon, you hear a jarring, repetitive banging on Yuna’s door followed by his agonized voice begging to see you. 

Per her instructions, you sequester yourself in her room and sob into her pillow while she pounds her fist right back and tells him to get lost before she calls the cops. 

That’s the last time you heard his voice.

Until now, that is, because while standing at the reception desk of a Taiwanese hotel which will be your accommodation for the next four days, you hear the familiar, gentle timbre coming from behind you.

“Joon, please tell me you have your passport,” he sighs.

“It was one time, Kook,” Namjoon groans in response.

The phrase is so mundane and yet it completely paralyzes your mind and stops you dead in your tracks. You wish you could lie to yourself and say it isn’t him, but the illustrious nickname prevents you from doing so.

Thankfully, the receptionist finishes checking you in and you’re able to scurry away with your bags before he notices you. You don’t dare to peek over your shoulder and confirm the sighting because seeing him would be far more debilitating than merely hearing him. 

The first anniversary of that horrific night is only a couple days away, but the passage of time isn’t as helpful as people say it is.

You should’ve expected him to be here since you know he’s friends with Hoseok, too. Why didn’t you consider the possibility before sending in your RSVP? Maybe you can still prevent a confrontation by leaving this very instant. You know Hoseok would understand given the circumstances. 

But no, that’s not fair to you or your friend and realistically, you'll only be in the same location during the rehearsal dinner and wedding, so avoiding him elsewhere shouldn’t be too difficult.

Those become your famous last words, because when you exit your room to grab ice a couple hours later, you see Namjoon keying into their room no more than ten doors away. Yelping as you unceremoniously swan dive into a hidden cove, you hold your breath while waiting for his footsteps to retreat before peeling yourself off the wall and sprinting back to your room. 

You naively thought you may never have to see him again, which was honestly your only hope because you know the second you do, you'll fold. It's undeniable that he's the one who got away and you know your self control is far too flimsy to resist him both physically and mentally.

There are no wedding festivities tonight, so you can take this time to prepare your head and heart for the inevitable battle which will take place once you come face to face with him. Although, any preparation you do will be useless because your head will simply command you to run as far away as humanly possible while your heart pleads with you to jump straight into his arms. There’s another area of your body which will beg for something else entirely, but you refuse to give it a dog in the fight.

Hoseok immediately foils those plans by posting on the wedding Facebook page about a welcome party down at the beach later tonight.

If you could look into the camera like you're a character on The Office, you would. Sighing in exasperation, you overdramatically flop on your bed and flail your limbs around like a petulant child. 

Once you're done throwing a temper tantrum, you get ready in the spacious hotel bathroom while repeating encouraging mantras to yourself in the mirror, but you already know mere words won’t save you.

Your dress is definitely too skimpy to be seen by your ex-boyfriend, but there's no choice when everything else in your suitcase is reserved for the following days. It’s a thigh length, deep purple, satin slip that would honestly be perfect for any other occasion, but purple is Jungkook’s favorite color, and the last thing you want is for him to think you dressed up for his sake. In fact, you were almost desperate enough to drop a couple hundred bucks at the gift shop downstairs to avoid wearing it altogether. 

As you descend the egregious amount of steps leading to the beach, you see Hoseok and his beautiful bride, Lia, standing at the bottom. Your friend smiles using his signature heart-shaped lips and enthusiastically waves with both hands while Lia does an adorable princess wave with her left hand.

“I’m so fucking happy you’re here!” He shouts before you even reach the final step.

Hoseok pulls you in for a crushing bear hug and you laugh while returning the embrace. 

“Thanks for having me,” you say once he releases you. 

Lia hugs you afterwards and you compliment her on how beautiful she looks in her white midi dress. 

The pair met in college just like you and Jungkook, which makes the whole affair just slightly soul crushing for you. It doesn't take away from the happiness you feel for them, but it's hard not to compare their relationship flourishing with yours which crashed and burned.

“I could never get married without you,” Hoseok says. 

“Or someone else, for that matter?”

Your friend frowns and a look of guilt sweeps over his features.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s alright, Hobi,” you tell him. “It was a long time ago now.” Lie. Big fat fucking lie. It still feels like yesterday. “I’ll let you guys greet your other guests.”

The bar is your first stop while you mingle with old college friends also in attendance. Unlike most weddings, the guests pool isn’t entirely made up of couples which eases your mind just a smidge. Even better, Jungkook is here with Namjoon rather than a real date, unless he and his best friend finally turned their bromance into something more. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, just as you’re tipping the bartender for your margarita, you turn to see two familiar silhouettes strolling down the steps side by side. 

As if the universe itself is trying to spite you, Jungkook looks even more handsome than you when you last saw him, which shouldn't be possible when he was already a 10/10. He’s wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed right arm in all its glory and black slacks that grip his thick thighs for dear life with every step he takes. His hair is shorter and pushed away from his forehead, but the few pieces framing his face delicately curl down over his eyebrow. Even though his physique is outstanding, it’s the big brown eyes you adore that leave you breathless, although there’s a somberness to them which wasn’t present before.

You don't know whether you want to cry into your sugary drink or throw yourself in the nearby sea and let the current carry you far away from here. 

To make matters worse, Namjoon looks equally amazing. He’s always been good looking, and you still remember being flabbergasted when you met him and realized both your boyfriend and his best friend are insanely attractive. His attire is similar to Jungkook’s, although he’s wearing a navy blazer over his blue dress shirt and matching slacks. He’s grown out his black hair to the point it falls into his eyes, but it only makes him look more allusive. 

Every woman on the beach, single or not, is downright gawking at the two of them as they greet Hoseok and Lia with warm hugs and stand beside the couple to chat. It takes everything in you to avert your gaze before Jungkook can see you doing the same.

You thought it might take a couple hours for Jungkook to finally find you, but it’s less than ten minutes after his arrival that you hear his voice again.

“Jagiya?”

There’s no reason to turn around since that moniker no longer applies to you. Instead, you languidly sip your drink with your elbows resting on one of the high-tops facing the vast ocean.

“Babe.”

Rolling your eyes until they nearly get stuck in your skull, you glare at him over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

Seeing Jungkook up close is so much worse. There better be a defibrillator somewhere on this beach because you’re going to need one very soon. 

“Well, that’s not my name, so I wasn’t sure.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes with a half-hearted scoff.

“I’ve never called you by your name.”

“Because you were my boyfriend,” you argue. “Which you no longer are, so my name should do just fine, thank you very much.”

He makes a second agitated noise before joining you at the table and mirroring your stance so your elbows touch. As if the skin on skin contact burns, you automatically jolt away from him, bringing a frown to his face as his eyes glisten with rejection.

“Can’t we at least catch up?” 

“No.”

Your attempt to escape in the opposite direction is cut short when you barrel into Namjoon’s firm chest. He clutches your arm to keep you from falling and a brilliant smile appears as you lock eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he cheerfully greets you.

“Hi, Joonie,” you sigh. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He looks at Jungkook before releasing your limb and slipping his hands into his pockets. “What about you?”

“Never better."

You make a break for it a millisecond later, running away as fast as the sand will allow to refill your drink and disappear from their sight, possibly even from earth. Fishing your phone from your purse, you find a secluded area and dial the number of your personal SOS.

The phone rings twice before Yuna’s voice comes through the receiver. 

“Everything alright?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“He’s here."

“Who?”

“Googie!”

“Jungkook?” You fall backwards into the sand with a thump as you pull your knees to your chest. “Oh, honey.”

“He fucking called me jagiya like it was nothing. I mean, who does that?”

“Do you need me to hop on a flight? Or send a hitman?”

Her tone reveals she’s fifty percent trying to cheer you up and fifty percent serious. 

“No. If anyone’s killing him, it’s gonna be me.” Staring up at the night sky, you imagine having similar encounters with him over the upcoming days. “I have to tell Hoseok I can’t stay. I won’t last four days here!”

“No, no,” Yuna chants. “He doesn’t get to win, okay? You’re there for your friend and you deserve to have a good time!”

“How am I supposed to have a good time like this?”

She sighs and clicks her tongue in defeat.

“I don’t know, but if I know that dumbass ex of yours, he’ll just come after you if you hop on a flight right now.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re right,” you groan.

“Listen, this is what you’re going to do,” she starts. “After the welcome party, go to his room and lay everything on the table. Tell him you’re not here to play catch up or rekindle anything and to leave you the hell alone for the rest of the weekend and you’ll do the same.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to go to his room?” You ask incredulously. “A secluded location with a bed? Something he has a stupidly amazing track record of getting me into!”

“You’re not going to sleep with him, you’re stronger than that,” she states.

“I think you vastly overestimate me, Yunes.”

“Is he there alone?”

“No, he’s here with Namjoon.”

“Well, there you go!” She cheers. “He’s not going to fuck you in front of Namjoon.”

“I think you vastly underestimate Jungkook.”

She leaves you with a few more words of encouragement, but you decide to forgo thinking about him altogether so you can actually enjoy the party. 

The remainder of the evening is spent nursing margaritas and listening to Lia and her bridesmaids energetically discuss the wedding. By the time you leave the beach, Jungkook and Namjoon are long gone, but the notion only brings momentary relief. You know a conversation needs to happen, but you aren’t sure if you have the strength to confront Jungkook. Just being around him hurts like hell and you can only imagine how difficult being alone with him will be.

You mindlessly traverse the hotel while gathering courage and also partially sobering up. Speaking with Jungkook with alcohol still in your veins is maybe the worst idea of all. When you finally knock on their door, it takes less than a minute for Namjoon to greet you with evident surprise on his face. 

He’s clearly gotten comfortable since leaving the beach, standing before you with his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the white t-shirt beneath and his belt undone but still strung through the loops of his slacks.

“Hey,” he says as if it’s a question. 

“Is he here?”

“Who… Kook?” You nod instead of answering because your lip is caught between your teeth as you anxiously bite the skin raw. “Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

Namjoon calls for his friend before opening the door so you can see more of the hotel room. Jungkook comes stumbling out from the bathroom still zipping his pants up and when his eyes land on you, they joyfully light up.

“Baby?” His voice goes up an octave out of pure excitement. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t call me that,” you blankly state.

His expression falters with utter despair, but you can tell from his flush cheeks that he’s been drinking and is clearly overreacting due to the alcohol swimming in his veins. 

“What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“I told you, Jungkook. My name!” You groan and tip your head back to refrain from throttling him. “Can I come in, please?”

He nods until getting dizzy from the repetitive motion and stumbles back a couple inches. Namjoon gestures with his arm and you thank him before crossing the threshold as he closes the door behind you. He excuses himself to the bathroom while you walk towards the center of the suite and pretend to admire the architecture.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook immediately regrets his word choice and starts shaking his head like a wet dog. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I want you here, I just didn’t think you did, so I’m surprised.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you concur. “But we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“What do you think?” Your tone is too harsh, but you can’t help the emotions crawling up your throat and choking the kindness from your voice. “I’m here to support my friend, same as you, and I would appreciate it if we could steer clear of each other for the weekend.”

“Are you serious?” Jungkook sounds stone cold sober when he replies. “I don’t see you for a year and you come here to tell me to fuck off?”

“Yes, Jungkook, because that’s what exes do,” you explain.

“Nah, fuck that, babe,” he snaps. “I don’t give a damn what other exes do.” There’s a poignant step taken in your direction, but you match his gate to hold the distance between you. Jungkook frowns, his brow creasing in discontent. “You really don’t want to see or talk to me? At all?”

“No! Why would I?” You exasperatedly ask. “Seeing you is fucking hard, Jungkook. Is it not hard for you?”

“No,” Jungkook replies without missing a beat. “Seeing you is as easy as breathing. Being away from you is what’s hard. It’s goddamn torture, jagi.”

“Stop calling me that, Jungkook!”

“Stop calling me Jungkook. You never fucking call me that!”

“Because we were dating! What do you expect me to call you?”

“Anything but my fucking name, please,” he begs as his voice strains with emotion. “It doesn’t even sound right coming out of your mouth.”

“Does asshole sound better?”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly while running his hand through the front of his hair. He opens his mouth to respond, but is stopped by a chime blaring overhead.

“Please excuse the disruption, loyal guests, but we have an urgent announcement to make. As of this moment, the entire hotel is on lockdown due to a gas leak on one of the lower floors. For the safety of all guests, your rooms will remain locked from the outside and key card access will be entirely revoked. Please stay where you are until we safely clear the gas and allow you to roam the hotel freely again. We estimate it will take no longer than twenty four hours. Thank you and please call the front desk with any questions or concerns.”

As soon as the message ends with another annoying chime, the room goes eerily silent and your blood runs cold. Namjoon exits the bathroom with wide, worrisome eyes, matching the expression on both your faces. 

“No. No, no, no,” you shout while running towards the exit. “No, this isn’t happening!” 

You violently yank on the doorknob even though it doesn’t budge an inch, grunting with effort as if that will somehow help. A tattooed hand gently removes your fingers from the handle to stop your incessant attempts.

“Stop, jagiya, it isn’t going to work,” Jungkook calmly says. 

It's unfair how much comfort his touch alone brings, but you ignore the feeling to helplessly pound your fist on the wood despite already knowing it’s useless. 

“It’ll be okay, I’m sure it won’t actually take them that long,” Namjoon comments. 

“Another second in here is one too long, Joonie.”

You hear Jungkook tsk in annoyance. 

“So, he gets Joonie and I’m still just Jungkook, huh?”

Your dread quickly becomes unadulterated anger as you turn on your heel to face him. 

“How many fucking times —”

“Hey, cut it out!” Namjoon interrupts by standing between you. “If we’re really stuck here you two need to stop acting like fucking children.”

“Me?”

“I’m not —”

“Yes, you fucking are,” Namjoon argues, his voice stern. “Y/N, there’s a pull out bed beneath the couch and I can give you some extra clothes to change into.”

“She’s not wearing your clothes, Joon.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is undeniably intense when he makes eye contact with his friend. 

“Well, I’m sure as hell not wearing yours,” you retort.

Namjoon sighs in defeat and runs his hands down his face. 

“This is what I mean!”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you avoid their eyes and sulk towards the couch on the opposite side of the room. If Namjoon thinks you’re behaving like a child, then you just won’t speak anymore. Simple. Great minds must think alike because Jungkook stomps over to the bed and sits with an overdramatic huff. Namjoon rolls his eyes, but ignores your shared antics by surveying the mini fridge. He’s clearly choosing the sensible route given that it’s your only source of food until the hotel reopens. 

The first hour of imprisonment happens in stark silence, besides the sound of Namjoon moseying about as he passes you both a water bottle before taking a seat in the armchair beside the bed. You all absentmindedly scroll on your phones and pretend you aren’t suffocating from the thick tension permeating the space. 

You immediately text Yuna about the situation, anxiously awaiting her reply with your thumbnail between your teeth as you parse through your many thoughts. When she does respond, her text contains an immeasurable amount of expletives and various emojis. She leaves you with a single instruction at the end of her message: “do not fucking sleep with him, Y/N!”

It’s easier said than done.

Namjoon is the first to slice through the awkward silence via an obviously fake cough. You and Jungkook both look at him expectantly and he responds with a dashing smile while leaning forward in his chair.

“Y/N, you said you came here to talk, so I think you guys should do just that,” he kindly suggests. “I can chill in the bathroom for a while, if you want.”

A sweet smile frames your face as you shake your head.

“That’s alright, Joonie. I don’t have anything to talk about with him,” you respond.

“You don’t? After a whole year you don’t have any questions or things you want to get off your chest?”

“Jungkook made it very clear when we broke up that he doesn’t want to marry me. That’s the only answer I need.”

Jungkook scoffs in response, cracking his neck as though it could release all his pent-up frustration. 

“That’s not true,” he states.

“No? Did I misunderstand something that night?”

“Yes. I never said I don’t want to marry you. I said I wasn’t ready, there’s a big difference."

Now it’s your turn to scoff with an accompanying eye roll.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s that much of a difference when after five fucking years together you still aren’t ready. Sounds like just a cowardly excuse to me,” you retort.

“Cowardly? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes, actually —”

“Hold on, that's not what I meant by talk,” Namjoon interrupts.

“What do you expect, Joon?” Jungkook asks angrily. “She’s unreasonable!”

“Don’t you dare call me that again,” you sneer, the night in question appearing like a vision in your mind. 

Jungkook’s eyes completely soften when he realizes his mistake, not ever wanting to hurt you despite the predicament you find yourselves in. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you end any and all conversation by strutting across the carpet and barricading yourself in the bathroom. Once you’re alone, you quietly whimper and slide down the frosted glass until your butt meets the cold tile. 

This will just be your solution for the remaining hours; to stay locked away from the piercing gaze of your ex and the well intentioned efforts of his best friend. You simply lack the wherewithal to look at his handsome face or listen to his calming voice any longer. The cold persona you’ve been maintaining all night is cracking with every word and you refuse to let him see how utterly broken you are underneath. 

Although, it's no use once you start sobbing into your hands because of all the overwhelming emotions. You’re certain he hears your brutal cries even as you muffle the sound in your palms, eventually crying yourself to sleep on the bathroom floor. 

A loud banging on the glass door startles you awake. 

“Y/N,” Namjoon calls for you.

“Use the sink,” you groan while sitting up.

“I’m not knocking for that.” There’s a heavy sigh from outside. “Can I come in?”

A weighted moment passes as your mind deciphers possible reasons not to let him inside, but when there aren’t any obvious choices, you twist the doorknob while scooting away so he can enter. 

When he does, he effortlessly slips in and turns the lock before sitting across from you and pulling his knees to his chest. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you murmur.

“I’m not trying to play matchmaker, I hope you know that. It’s just that we’re stuck here for possibly twenty more hours, and I don’t think you’re very comfortable lying on the bathroom floor in a cocktail dress,” he explains.

You nod in agreement as a small grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, my ass is killing me.”

Namjoon laughs, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks as the lighthearted sound fills the air.

“He fell asleep, too, but maybe you can go bug him and actually sort some shit out?” There's hope present in his brown eyes. “Just because getting back together isn’t on the table, doesn’t mean you can’t at least be on good terms. You two have a lot of mutual friends so this definitely isn’t going to be the last time you see each other.”

“He makes it pretty hard, Joonie,” you argue.

“I know he does. It’s only because he…” Namjoon sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s only because he’s still so in love with you.”

You appreciate him saying it out loud even though it's painfully obvious that's the case.

“I know,” you quietly admit. “I don’t know if it’s even possible for either of us to ever stop loving the other one.”

Namjoon reaches out to rest his hand on your knee, empathetically running his thumb across the fabric of your dress. He doesn't seem surprised by your inferred confession, which you suppose makes sense given how observant he is.

“If there is that much love still between you, that’s all the more reason to mend things as best you can.”

He leaves you alone again so you can decide for yourself what your next move will be.  

It takes you a couple hours to come to the proper conclusion and return to the suite so you can speak with your ex-boyfriend. When you do, you find him and Namjoon haphazardly sprawled across the mattress still half-dressed in their evening wear.

Jungkook's facial features are serene as quiet snores pass through his lips. This must be the millionth time you’ve witnessed him in this state, but your heart still flutters all the same. You resist the urge to wake him as you once did, by combing his hair back and pressing featherlight kisses to his face. Instead, you nudge his leg where it’s hanging off the mattress and wait for his eyes to blink open.

“Jagiya?” He groggily asks. “Is everything alright, my love?”

Oh, he must still be half asleep. It’s one thing to throw a pet name around, but the infamous epithet exclusively used for you is a step too far.

“Wake up, Jungkook,” you order him.

“I am.”

You ignore the possibility of him purposefully calling you that so you can focus on your mission. 

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook sits up and methodically runs his hands through his hair a couple times before patting the space beside him.

Following his wordless request, you occupy the spot to his right, albeit a bit farther away from where his hand hit the mattress. When he notices the sizeable distance, his disappointment sets a crease in his brow. 

“You wanna talk like we did earlier or the way we used to?”

His question makes you replay your various conversations from today in your head.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch tonight. I’m just trying to… protect myself,” you explain. 

Jungkook shakes his head. 

“You’re not being a bitch,” he assures you. “I’m sorry, too. I promise I’m not trying to make this any harder on you, I just missed you so fucking much, jagi.”

It's too dangerous to repeat the phrase back to him, despite it being true, so you ignore the comment altogether.

“I know that we need to have a conversation, but I’m not sure where to even start. It feels like we’re beating a dead horse at this point,” you admit.

“I’m not exactly sure, either, but I’ll answer any questions you have or re-explain whatever you need me to.”

There's been one single question occupying your mind for the last year, but you never expected being able to ask it.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you, Jungkook?”

His doe eyes widen and his hands naturally move to caress your face so he can comfort you, assure you of how wrong you are, but he seemingly changes his mind and lets them fall. 

“Not enough for me?” He shakes his head in complete disbelief at the idea. “Oh, baby, me not proposing has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We spent half a decade together, if you’re not ready for marriage after that then it’s obviously me,” you argue. 

“No, it isn’t,” he states. “Growing up, I watched my parents go from lovesick to arch enemies in a matter of years. So, in my mind, marriage can make even the most perfect couple hate each other. Which means it could do that to us, too.”

“We’re not your parents, Jungkook.”

His parent’s broken relationship has always deeply affected him and it’s something you tried helping him heal from during your time together.

“I know, but from my perspective getting married could easily turn us into them. I thought staying boyfriend and girlfriend would make losing you impossible, but it did the exact opposite.”

“I told you that,” you groan. “The night we broke up, I said you only have one option to keep me with you, and sure, there’s always a risk of things going south, but if you didn’t propose it would happen a helluva lot sooner than if marriage tears us apart.” Without thinking of the consequences, your hands encompass his. “Jungkook, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

His hands squeeze yours as if he’s double checking that you’re real. 

“I know that now,” he whispers.

“What… what do you mean?”

“I was wrong, jagiya. That night, letting my parents' relationship dictate our own, I made the biggest mistake of my life,” he tells you. “If I could turn back time, I would get down on one knee right there in our living room.”

You feel a familiar pressure from tears collecting in your waterline. It would be wonderful to reverse the hands of time and prevent your breakup from ever happening, but it’s impossible, and no amount of time travel can fix your broken heart.

Jungkook tries brushing the stray tears away once they finally fall, but you turn your head when his fingertips graze your cheekbone.

“Please tell me how to fix this, baby,” he begs.

“You can’t –”

“I don’t mean us. Well, I do, but I know you don’t want that.” He couldn’t be more wrong. “So how do we leave here as friends, at least.” 

Being friends is a terrible decision given how much your heart still absolutely belongs to him, but you also can’t resist having him in your life. So, you extend your hand across the space between you. 

“Friends?”

Jungkook smiles affectionately and shakes your outstretched hand. 

“That was easy,” he comments.

The tension in the room gradually dissipates as you chuckle and drop his hand.

Although, your truce allows for a different, more potent aura to surround you instead. It seems pretending to despise each other was your only protection from the inherent desire you feel, because in the otherwise silent room, the crackling heat between you is palpable. 

The first time you ever laid eyes on each other, Jungkook promptly shoved you into a dive bar bathroom and fucked you against the sink. In fact, you’re positive the two of you have never been near a fuckable surface without partaking in the act. If Namjoon wasn’t lying smack dab in the middle of the bed, you’d probably already be rolling around in the sheets together. 

Namjoon wakes up with a confused grunt before either of you can make such a mistake. He examines the unfamiliar surroundings while cracking his neck and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, lovebirds,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Joon.”

“Ew.”

Jungkook chuckles at your expense and you retaliate by playfully shoving his shoulder. Per his usual antics, he grunts while falling backwards, his upper body hitting the mattress with a soft thump. The melodramatic action makes you giggle without realizing, and you can see Jungkook smiling from his position on the bed. 

Namjoon notices the positive shift in atmospheric pressure and smiles to himself as he stands to stretch his long limbs. 

“So, what are we using this ample amount of time together to do?” He asks while grabbing a snack from the kitchen. 

It’s a logical question given the circumstances, since there isn't much in the room to keep you entertained besides the TV, and who knows what selection of shows and movies the hotel offers. 

While you contemplate an answer, Jungkook sits up and gestures for Namjoon to toss him a treat, which he catches with ease once his best friend complies. Rather than opening the package, he hands it to you before repeating the motion for himself. You avert your eyes so he doesn’t see the pink blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Well, what’s your year been like, Joonie?”

Namjoon smiles at your question even as he’s chewing the granola bar he just took a bite of. He answers after swallowing his food.

“It’s been good, I got promoted to head curator at the museum,” he announces.

“No way, that’s amazing!” You cheer. “I’ll have to swing by sometime.”

“You should, we’ve got some amazing new pieces from this French historian I found,” he explains. 

“Any women in your life?”

You pop some trail mix into your mouth.

“Nah, I’m shit outta luck in that department.” He briefly glances at Jungkook before continuing. “How about you?”

“Nope. No luck with the ladies for me, either.”

Jungkook giggles beside you. 

“Seriously, though, how have you been?” Namjoon asks.

You wish you could answer truthfully, but despite the recent agreement between you and Jungkook, you still want to hold your real feelings close to your chest. For instance, you don’t want him to know the feeling of someone else’s lips makes your stomach twist in disgust. Something you’re only aware of because you attempted to kiss a stranger at the bar some months ago. The encounter only lasted approximately three seconds before you stopped the man’s advances and spent the remainder of the night sobbing in the bathroom.

“I’ve been good, too,” you say, keeping it simple. “What about you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you point your attention to him. 

“Oh, fine, I guess,” he answers solemnly. “No promotions or… you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement and finish the rest of your trail mix to avoid answering any further questions.

“So, that took up approximately five minutes of the next nineteen hours,” Namjoon states matter-of-factly.

“Hm, let’s play kid games like never have I ever or some shit,” Jungkook excitedly suggests.

“Kook,” Namjoon laughs. “Be for real.”

“Hyung, we have hours to kill here.” Jungkook points to you. “Tiebreaker vote.”

“Uh.” Your head tilts as your mind contemplates the possible consequences. “I mean, why the hell not? It’s not like I don’t know everything about you anyway, Jungkook.”

“You don't know what I got up to in the last year,” he retorts. 

“Fine, but we need drinks,” Namjoon says as he hands out beers before taking a seat on the nearby couch. “I’ll go first?” You and Jungkook both nod and the older man giggles when he decides on his first prompt. “Never have I ever slept with someone in this room.”

Twin indignant glares are sent his way as you and Jungkook sip your drinks.

“That’s fucked up,” Jungkook comments. 

“Your turn, Y/N.”

Similar to Namjoon, you look between the two boys and chuckle to yourself.

“Never have I ever had a penis.” Jungkook stares you down while Namjoon merely shakes his head and sips his beer. “Your turn.” You tap Jungkook’s chest with the bottle.

“Hmm, never have I ever not been named Jungkook.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’re a bozo.”

You and Namjoon drink simultaneously. 

“Alright, no more fucking around, we die like men,” Namjoon states while placing his elbows on his knees. “Never have I ever had sex in a public place.” There’s an incredibly awkward silence before you and Jungkook slowly bring the bottles to your lips. “No shit? I didn’t think I’d actually get you guys with that one.”

“Multiple times, in fact,” Jungkook says after drinking. 

“In very public places,” you add.

“Freaks,” Namjoon jokes. 

“Okay, never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you say.

Only Namjoon drinks and it scratches an itch in your brain knowing Jungkook hasn't completed one of your bucket list items without you. 

“There’s an ocean right outside, ya know,” Jungkook comments with a smirk. You respond by elbowing his ribs. “Ow, understood.” He thinks for a minute before a more sinister smile appears. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

No one drinks, which only causes Jungkook’s expression to morph into one of satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, did you only ask because you want to know if I’ve had one since we broke up?”

“Yes,” Jungkook shamelessly admits. “You’ve always wanted one and it’s the only opportunity I’ll have to ask.” 

“You wanna try a threesome, Y/N?” Namjoon asks with an eyebrow quirked. 

“Mmhm, but my boyfriend was always too jealous to indulge me,” you state while side-eyeing Jungkook. 

Your ex scoffs with a shake of his head. 

“Why don’t you tell Namjoon why I said no, babe.” You suddenly look like a deer in headlights. “That’s what I thought.”

“Wait, wait." Namjoon scoots to the edge of his chair. “Spill.”

“Oh, no,” you reply.

“C’mon, jagi, tell him,” Jungkook goads. A threatening glance is sent his way, but he ignores your agitation and menacingly tilts his head as if to taunt you. All hope is lost when he turns to face his best friend. “She wanted us to have a threesome with you.”

Namjoon chokes on air.

“Huh?”

“Oh yeah, she begged me on multiple occasions.”

“Jungkook!” 

His poor friend’s face is glowing with a bright red blush as he processes the confession.

“What… why me?”

“I mean, it’s not everyday your handsome and buff boyfriend has an equally handsome and buff best friend,” you explain. “What’s a girl to do?”

“It’s not everyday you’re stuck in a hotel room with them, either,” Jungkook notes while calmly drinking his beer. 

You and Namjoon whip your heads in his direction with equally large eyes. Jungkook merely chuckles at the joint reaction and leans back on his hands like he didn’t just plant a ticking time bomb in the center of the room. 

“Sorry, are you —”

“Suggesting we all sleep together?” He turns to you with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, jagiya, I am.”

“But why now when you always said no before?”

“Because as you made it very clear earlier this evening, I’m no longer your boyfriend. I have no problem sharing what isn’t mine to begin with,” he explains. 

Something about his statement shatters your heart in a way you refuse to admit.

Namjoon clears his throat to garner everyone’s attention.

“Uh, is this something we’re genuinely considering? Because I’m totally down.”

“Babe?”

Jungkook has nothing but hope brimming in his eyes while you maim your lower lip with your teeth. There are multiple contrasting emotions battling in your head, but the overall winner is excitement as the feeling flows through your veins and becomes your answer. 

“As long as you stop calling me that.” There’s a brief pause before you remember to cover all your bases. “In either language, Jungkook.” 

The man in question’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead as a charming smile grows. 

“Deal.”

Your heart skips a couple beats when he shuts his eyes and leans in with pursed lips. As if it’s second nature, Jungkook’s hand rises to hold the back of your head, but you keep him in place with a gentle touch to his chest. 

“Give me a minute.”

The mattress bounces when you stand to run away into the safety of the bathroom again. Oxygen fills your lungs for the first time in minutes upon entering the secluded space. Moving towards the counter, your hands grip the marble as you turn the faucet and splash cold water on your face. 

Your best friend appears like an apparition in your mind, reminding you of your sworn duty not to sleep with your ex-boyfriend. Technically, you're only half sleeping with him, since someone else will be there. Yeah, you’re certain Yuna will accept that bullshit explanation without biting your head off. 

She’ll just have to forgive you, because you’ve imagined this threesome countless times over the years and nothing is going to prevent it from becoming a reality now. Sure, you never pictured it happening because you got trapped in hotel with your gorgeous ex and his equally attractive best friend, but here you are.

After spending some time calming your racing heartbeat, you stare yourself down in the mirror and share an affirming glance with your reflection before exiting. 

When you do, Jungkook is standing just beyond the door with desire in his dark irises. Namjoon isn’t far away, sitting on the corner of the bed with his legs spread while he intently watches the two of you.

“You ready?” Jungkook asks in a low tone.

Heaven help you.

“Do your worst.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste a single second and slams his lips on yours while his large hands encapsulate your head. The sudden movement causes an involuntary moan, his warm lips already turning your mind to mush as you clutch his shirt to keep your knees from giving out.

Heaven can’t help you now, because the feeling of Jungkook kissing you again is far above its paygrade. 

His mouth coaxes yours open and you grant him unlimited access without another thought, allowing him to slip his tongue inside so it can tangle with your own. The familiar motions transport you to a world where your breakup never occured and Namjoon isn’t a couple feet away. It honestly feels as though you’re the only two people in existence when he molds his mouth to yours and grips your hair between his fingers like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispers against your lips. 

He gives you a final peck before kissing across the lower half of your face and down your neck. You indiscriminately moan as his soft, wet lips repeatedly meet the most sensitive areas of your skin. Your hand rakes through his styled hair when he licks across your jugular and takes a delicate bite. He gives your collarbone, sternum, stomach, and abdomen chaste kisses while rapidly descending to his knees. The sight of his lustful eyes peering up at you from the vulnerable position makes your core clench. 

Your eyes are silently pleading him to touch you and it brings a devilish smirk to Jungkook’s face. His hands sneak beneath the hem of your dress to touch your bare skin while kissing the fabric resting on your thighs. When you whine for more, he pacifies you by bunching the dress up to reveal the lace underwear covering your cunt. He groans in satisfaction and starts kissing your mound through the material, causing you to hold onto his black strands for dear life. 

“Jungkook, please,” you breathlessly beg. 

“Use your words,” he orders while making out with your panties. 

Jungkook’s always demanded you spell your wants and needs out for him in bed, so you should’ve expected his response. 

“Need your mouth on me,” you pant.

He hums affirmatively and tugs your underwear to the floor before languidly licking your pussy from bottom to top. A combination between a broken gasp and pleasurable cry comes from you in response. The sensation of his tongue moving through your folds is earth shattering even if you’ve experienced it a million times and the feeling must be mutual because Jungkook is enthusiastically moaning into your cunt while lapping up the leaking essence from your hole with precise flicks of his tongue. 

“Goddamn, you taste so fucking good,” he grunts before diving back in. 

His fingers hold you in place by the meat of your thighs as he eats you out like you’re his final meal on earth. Jungkook’s always been an expert at eating pussy, and his innate skill is only highlighted by the fact that you haven’t been touched by another human in a year. Between his hands gripping your flesh and his mouth slurping your juices, your mental fortitude doesn’t stand a chance.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your pussy for a torturous amount of time before finally granting you solace and moving upwards to pleasure your clit. When you jump from the sensation of him kitten licking you, he growls and his fingertips bite into your supple thighs.

“Don’t fucking move.” He flattens his tongue on your pearl and moves his face side to side to create friction. Your head falls against the glass as you helplessly moan. “You have no fucking idea how much I missed this pussy.”

The deep timbre of his voice sends vibrations through you as he maintains the mind blowing tempo. He halts the efforts of his tongue to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll deep into your skull. In the same breath, he purposely allows drool to drip from his lips onto your pussy, as if you aren’t gushing cum already. The extra wetness creates a seamless glide of his mouth on your skin and you can barely keep your body upright from how amazing it feels.

“Goo — Jungkook,” you whine. 

He ignores your call of his name, although you think he caught the near slip up because his low chuckle tickles your wet skin and sends shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck, Joon, you gotta taste her.” He moves away from your cunt and you automatically whimper, your hand clutching his hair to keep him close. “Best pussy in the entire fucking world.”

When you glance at the man in question after taking multiple deep breaths, you notice him sporting a cheshire grin while his dragon eyes dangerously call to you.

“Is that so?” Namjoon tilts his head as he holds the seductive eye contact. “May I?”

The only action you can muster is a weak nod, your head barely holding itself up from how high up in the clouds you are. 

Jungkook catches your attention by placing a final kiss to your clit before rising and tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear.

“Be good,” he instructs. 

There’s an urge within you to fight back and tell him it’s no longer his place to command anything from you, but the lustful haze veiling your consciousness prevents you from speaking altogether.

Before you realize, you’re nose to nose with Namjoon and the miniscule distance between you makes your heart stop.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with you, Y/N,” he taunts.

He drops to his knees the very next moment, firmly gripping one of your thighs as he maneuvers it to rest on his shoulder. 

It’s been more than six years since anyone beside Jungkook touched you, and although you want this, the feeling of someone else holding you inadvertently causes a negative reaction. Your hands begin to shake and your eyes snap shut as unease washes over you and settles in your stomach. 

Jungkook must notice the energy shift, because you feel his lips caressing your shoulder as he gently kisses your skin. 

“It’s alright,” he whispers between smooches. “Just enjoy it, beautiful.”

Namjoon’s plush lips are kissing and sucking on your inner thighs as his face ascends towards your center. It’s easier said than done, but you eventually acclimate to the foreign touch and manage to calm your body and mind. 

When his mouth reaches your cunt, he tastes you for the first time with a tentative, featherlight lick, but after slowly swiping his wet muscle through your folds a couple times, he amorously hums while gripping your thighs tighter. He forces your pussy down onto his face and you yelp, a desperate hand grasping his spare shoulder for support. 

“Fuck, Joonie” you whine.

The younger man is still painting your neck with sloppy kisses as Namjoon does the same to your cunt. 

His mouth feels completely different in comparison to Jungkook, but still just as pleasurable. While your ex eats you out as if he simply can’t get enough, Namjoon seems to be savoring every single bite. 

Despite the delicate pressure of his tongue gliding along your slit, you feel pure greed behind his actions. He’s holding you firmly in place while bobbing his head to lick every inch of your cunt and his wanton noises sound like he just wants more, more, and more. Then his tongue pushes into your hole and licks long your inner walls as his buttery lips absolutely devour you and the feeling is jaw dropping. 

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” he comments under his breath. Namjoon looks up to ensure you’re watching his tongue take a single, long lick of your pussy before curling your juices into his mouth. “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You pathetically moan over his praises.

“Make her come, Joon,” Jungkook says. “She looks so pretty when she finishes.”

Namjoon hears your ex loud and clear, keeping his eyes on you when he switches gears and starts mouthing at your clit. 

Gone is the gentle giant as he religiously flicks his tongue over your nerve endings before teasing you by moving the muscle in slow circles instead. He seems to enjoy your response to his actions, an airy chuckle meeting your core where his lips have begun sucking on your nub. Of course your eyes are rolling as you pant and sink your fingertips into his shoulder muscles, he’s pleasuring your most sensitive spot as if he’s done it countless times. 

He reclaims your pussy to drink the weeping essence collecting there, but his nose nuzzles your clit so you’re still being stimulated in both areas. The perfect combination makes your mind blank and your senses malfunction until all they recognize are him. 

You don’t just fall over the edge, you’re forcefully pushed off the precipice by his extraordinary movements.

“Oh, holy shit,” you cry.

The gorgeous man on his knees for you groans in delight as you come on his face, swallowing every ounce of cum you give him. If he wasn’t still balancing your leg on his shoulder, the convulsing your body does in reaction to the climax would send you toppling. 

Jungkook ardently watches you as the high simmers, observing your every twitch and noise with heat in his eyes. Meanwhile, Namjoon is still slurping away beneath you like he could continue for hours without complaint.

You shove at his shoulder when the oversensitivity becomes too great, needing to focus on your trembling breaths so your body can return to baseline. 

“How was that?” Namjoon asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips.

“What a stupid fucking question.”

Both men laugh as Namjoon stands and Jungkook sits on the bed. 

“So, who are you sucking off first, beautiful?” 

Jungkook’s lopsided smirk is too attractive for his own good, and you know it’s only present because he found a clever loophole to your sole condition for this entanglement. 

“Well, since you let Namjoon do your dirty work, I think you should finish what you started while I thank him for doing such a wonderful job,” you explain. “Whaddaya think?”

He doesn’t respond other than by pulling you into his lap by your thighs while simultaneously lying back so you’re straddling him. 

“Hop on your favorite seat, then.”

Your eyebrows lift for a silent confirmation of his request and he winks as an answer. The anticipation of having him again creates childlike giddiness within you as you maneuver yourself above his head. At the same time, Namjoon strolls to the opposite side and pulls his belt through the loops to remove it. Once his slacks are kicked into a pile on the carpet, he stands directly in front of you where you’re kneeling over Jungkook’s face. 

“You know, Kook’s bragged about your mouth on multiple occasions, so your reputation precedes you,” Namjoon states.

“Oh, I assure you, I’ll exceed your expectations, Joonie,” you confidently reply.

Before you can continue the conversation, Jungkook is tugging your thighs down until your bare pussy is smothering his mouth. You moan as your head falls back upon feeling his searing hot tongue on you again. He parrots the noise into your folds, accompanied by the erotic sound of him repeatedly bringing your cum into his mouth.

When your attention returns to Namjoon as Jungkook continues his diligence on your cunt, you see his eyes reverently staring at the scene while he palms his covered cock. You reach for him, dipping your fingers beneath the fabric resting on his hips to pull him closer. He stumbles forward with a deep laugh and aides you in pushing the garment down his thick thighs to reveal his cock. 

To state it plainly, the man is well fucking endowed. He’s slightly longer than Jungkook, although if memory serves correctly, not as thick as him. Comparisons aside, his dick is genuinely mouth watering and all of your emotions are instantly superseded by the innate desire to taste him. 

“Like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you say with a slow nod.

His cock is achingly hard and twitches in his hand as he strokes himself without breaking eye contact with you. Your tongue slowly traces your lips as you imagine how he’ll taste, the bead of precum forming on his head practically calling your name. Seeing him in all his glory is the perfect reminder of why you begged Jungkook for this so many times. There’s no doubt you’re about to have the time of your life being sandwiched between them all night.

Your warm hand replaces his own as you begin languidly stroking him and running your thumb across his slit to gather the precum and work it down his shaft. He groans as his head lulls, giving you the sexiest view of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“You’re so big,” you tell him aimlessly. 

He doesn’t respond, clearly too preoccupied with relishing the feeling of your small hand wrapping around his thick cock. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook is still fervently licking your pussy like rent is due tomorrow. His hands remain on your hips after creeping upwards from your thighs and he uses the leverage to move your cunt back and forth across his face, causing his big nose to catch on your clit and effectively nullify your senses. 

Despite the debilitating pleasure you're receiving, you focus on the man before you and bend over to lick his cockhead, making Namjoon instinctively clutch your hair. You dutifully swipe your tongue across his velvet skin to get acquired with his masculine taste. When you tease him by circling the sensitive ridge of his head with just the tip of your tongue before flattening the muscle once you reach his tip, Namjoon forcefully groans. 

“Fuck, baby,” he curses under his breath. 

His reaction encourages you to finally take him between your wet lips, suckling on his head as your hand continues working him in smooth strokes. 

“You’re so sexy, Joonie,” you mewl after leaving the pretty tip of his cock covered in drool. 

“Keep putting your mouth on me then,” he chuckles. 

Namjoon’s always been peaceful and practical, but you can hear the sharp edge in his tone born from your teasing. 

Following his orders, you fully wrap your lips around him and bob your head with your tongue out to soak the remaining length of his cock. Your hand falls away and joins your other on the mattress to keep yourself steady. You swallow his dick inch by inch as you bring him deeper into your mouth with each glide. Your actions turn him noisy above you, endlessly whining and groaning as his fingers tug on the hair caught between them.

Jungkook’s just as loud as he lazily drinks your essence and moans into your cunt. He’s going slower than normal so he can prolong your pleasure while you take care of his friend, but the andante rhythm of his mouth doesn’t make his movements any less punishing. His tongue is constantly alternating between long sweeps of your pussy from bottom to top and tauntingly circling your clit. 

“Holy fuck,” Namjoon breathes. “So fucking good, baby.”

His nonsensical praises are totally understandable, since you’re using all the tricks in the book to energetically suck him off. Your tongue makes loops around his cock every time you move your head closer to his pubic bone. When you pull back, you press the muscle firmly along the underside of his shaft and flick it against his tip before doing it all over again. It takes a decent amount of time to fully sheath him in your throat due to his size, but once your nose is buried in his pubic hair, you hold the position so he can savor the feeling. He certainly seems appreciative, given that he practically growls like a wild animal and yanks on your hair. 

The next time you descend and his tip sinks deep into your throat, you swallow so he can feel the way your muscles constrict around his dick. That nearly makes him lose his marbles, his nails harshly scratching at your scalp as you blow his mind along with his cock. 

“Mother of God, Y/N.”

A giggle escapes as you take a momentary reprieve and flatten your tongue on his head, lapping up the precum pooling over his slit. 

“Told you,” Jungkook proudly states from beneath you. “She got you close yet, Joon?”

His voice is partially muffled by your thighs around his head, but his friend still hears the question. 

“Fuck yes, about to blow any second,” Namjoon breathlessly replies. 

It’s quite obvious he’s telling the truth by the way his cock deliciously throbs inside your mouth. Upon hearing his answer, you suction your lips around him and vigorously bob your head to finish him off. Your fingers even join the fray to fondle his heavy sack that’s full of all the cum you’re about to swallow. 

Jungkook kicks his own motions into high gear so you two come simultaneously, forcing your cunt down on his mouth and spitting into your folds so he can wreak havoc on your hole. 

His unexpected ministrations make you yelp and Namjoon gasps in response to the vibrations around his cock. You continuously moan as you work upon realizing the effect on him, and within seconds his balls tighten in your hand and you sink down completely so his cum shoots straight down your throat. 

“Oh shit,” he grunts.

Tasting his warm seed before it paints your esophagus white is downright sinful, but feels oh so good. It’s been far too long since you’ve had the pleasure of breaking a man off and letting him empty his balls in your mouth. 

The movements of your mouth never cease while swallowing every drop he provides, allowing your tongue to collect the essence that spreads along his shaft. Although you’re focusing on Namjoon, Jungkook is dangerously close to bringing you an orgasm by rapidly fucking his tongue into your pussy. 

When you do come, your sharp cries force Namjoon’s cock from your mouth as your body shakes with the unbelievable strength of your second orgasm. 

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Namjoon’s hand is still in your hair and he attentively combs through the strands as pleasurable tears prick your eyes. Jungkook is groaning underneath you as he eats the cum spilling from your pussy and soaking his face. He doesn’t stop tormenting your sensitive folds until you finally roll off him and collapse on the bed. 

All three of you are erratically panting from the intense pleasure and effort. 

You clock the massive tent in Jungkook’s slacks and immediately feel the urge to satiate him before you’ve even caught your breath. 

“Jungkook, strip.” He subconsciously nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt to remove it from his torso. His slacks and boxers come off in one go, revealing the familiar sight of his gorgeous cock to you. It takes every ounce of your strength to resist moaning out loud. “Namjoon, have you ever been to Paris?” 

Your other companion is still delirious from his overwhelming climax and your doe-eyed, curious expression doesn’t aid him in the slightest, but he shakes his head as an answer nonetheless. 

Upon seeing his response, you maneuver to all fours with your ass facing him and your head towards Jungkook. Your ex is standing beside the bed and watching you like a hawk as you get into position. 

“You sure about this, doesn’t your jaw hurt?” Jungkook questions. 

“C’mon, Jungkook, you know how much I love the pain,” you respond. 

His only reaction is an irritatingly sexy, smug grin as he comes to stand right in front of you, his hard cock standing at attention only an inch away from your awaiting lips. 

“I get to fuck you?” Namjoon asks from behind you. 

His hands are traversing your waist, hips, and thighs and when he flips your dress up to reveal your bare ass and soaking pussy, he hums delightfully. 

“Of course you do,” you respond, seductively looking over your shoulder at him. “You better do it right, Joonie, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

He clicks his tongue. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, baby.”

Returning your attention to Jungkook, your eyes travel from his v-line up his sculpted torso, but before they reach his face, an unfamiliar artwork catches your attention. 

“Did you… did you get a new tattoo?” 

Jungkook glances towards his right shoulder where the new, colorful ink is etched into his skin. The shoulder piece partially covers his old tattoo and stretches across his collarbone. You can’t help but gawk at the pretty art on his honey skin, honestly shocked that he finally added to his sleeve.

“You like it?” 

He looks far too cocky about your reaction for your taste, but you do in fact like it. You’ve told him many times just how hot a tattoo in that location would look, and it seems he took your advice long after you were gone.

“Ye — yeah,” you answer. 

The confident expression only grows when you unfortunately fail at responding like a normal human, far too distracted by the ink to think properly. 

Rather than teasing you as usual, Jungkook gently pets your hair before resting his hand on your jaw. He uses the controlling grip to pull your face closer to his cock and you automatically push your tongue out to lick the precum off the tip. Jungkook smiles at your instinctual reaction, as if pleasuring him is something written in your DNA.

“Why don’t you show me just how much you like it?” 

His tone is dripping with desire to the point his voice shakes, his eagerness to have your lips around him evident in his phrasing. 

You obediently press your tongue to his skin again, this time leisurely dragging the muscle along his head. The hand on your jaw rescinds to your hair and pulls the strands away from your face so he can see you kitten licking his cock.

“Good girl,” he praises, his eyes never once leaving your face.

Meanwhile, Namjoon begins running his dick through your folds, lubricating himself with your cum so he can slide into your pussy with ease. 

“Go on, Joon,” Jungkook instructs. “Let’s fuck her dumb on both ends, shall we?”

When Namjoon pushes in without another word, the feeling of his tip pressing into your hole makes you keen and desperately grip the sheets beneath your fingers. 

“Would you like that, baby?” Namjoon asks to patronize you. “Do you want us to stretch your holes with our big cocks?’

When you only nod in response, Jungkook tugs on your hair in retaliation. 

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please, ruin me.”

Namjoon enters you one inch at a time so you feel every ridge and curve as he descends into your pussy. You’re still licking Jungkook’s head and shaft, sufficiently coating his cock in saliva before taking him between your lips, but it’s nearly impossible to focus on the man in front when the one behind you is using his dick to spear you. An enthusiastic moan breaches the air once he’s fully inside you, and the men share a demeaning laugh at your current predicament. 

It’s honestly nasty how much you crave the feeling of them stuffing you. 

As soon as Namjoon pulls back for the first time, you suck Jungkook’s cock into your mouth. They both pornagraphically moan because of the pleasure your cunt and mouth simultaneously provide them. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Namjoon grits through his teeth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook whines.

Namjoon takes control via a fierce grasp on your hips, giving him the ideal leverage to thrust into you. Similarly, Jungkook clutches your hair like reins between his fingers in preparation for you deepthroating his cock.

The initial stroke into your pussy sends you forward until you’re swallowing about half of Jungkook’s cock, forcing an erotic gasp from him. Namjoon’s movements create the perfect bobbing motion for your head, making this eiffel tower position somewhat easier than merely sucking dick. The strength of his thrusts allows you to take more of Jungkook into your mouth with each one, so your only job becomes keeping your tongue out and tightening your lips around him, occasionally moaning, gagging, or swallowing when he tickles your throat.

“She’s a fucking dream, isn’t she?” Jungkook says with strained vocal chords.

“That’s a fucking understatement,” Namjoon instantly replies.

The feeling of Namjoon fucking you is obviously foreign, but earth shattering nonetheless. He magically knows the perfect angle for his cock to consistently hit your g-spot, driving himself deep inside you while maintaining a steady pace to prevent from hindering your work. The push and pull of his hips creates mind blowing friction and stimulation as the thick veins running along his shaft rub against your inner walls.

He’s certainly fulfilling his promise as he effortlessly rearranges your guts, his dick reaching parts of you long forgotten prior to this.

You’re clearly excelling, too, because Jungkook is incoherently cursing and panting like a dog above you. Namjoon’s diligence from behind means your sole focus can remain on the actions of your mouth, lips, and tongue. Despite your familiarity with sucking Jungkook’s cock, there’s still an adjustment period due to his size, but once his tip meets your esophagus, you purposely gag around him, allowing your drool to coat his skin. 

Jungkook’s got quite the ego, which you’ve always found unbelievably sexy, and seeing your lips stretched to the limit while you willingly choke on his cock is hands down his favorite sight in the world. 

“Fuck, no one sucks my cock like you do,” he claims. “God fucking damn.”

Although he’s complimenting you, his statement makes your eyebrows pinch together. You’re unsure if he means it rhetorically or if he’s actually comparing your skills to someone else, namely someone he may have been with in the last year. The thought makes your heart sink into your stomach, but you shove the anguish away so you can continue focusing on this moment.

“God, your pussy is fucking insane, baby,” Namjoon states.

You’d thank him if it wasn’t for the large cock in your mouth.

Alas, you’re slightly preoccupied with being penetrated on both ends like a pig on a spit, not that you mind, since the incredible sensation is driving you hog wild, anyway. 

Namjoon’s length fills you up entirely and your pussy reacts by tightening around him everytime he pistons into you. Meanwhile, Jungkook is positively abusing your throat, the saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth dripping down his balls and turning them shiny. If you could lift a hand without falling over, you’d massage them so he’ll spill his seed faster. 

Although, that ends up being unnecessary, because Jungkook nearly chokes when you suction your lips around him while he’s stuffed in your mouth.

“Can I paint your face, beautiful?” He desperately asks.

Nodding as you peer up with siren eyes, you maneuver your tongue in circles around his shaft to send him reeling. 

Jungkook removes himself from your warmth and fists his cock until spurts of hot cum begin shooting from his tip. You open your mouth wide and close your eyes, giving him full control over the picture of sin he’s going to draw on your face with his semen. His cum mostly lands in your mouth, which you joyfully swallow, while the rest covers your cheeks and chin in a creamy, white liquid. 

“Ah fuck, that’s right. Take it all, gorgeous,” Jungkook gasps.

After he firmly squeezes the head of his cock to ensure he’s given you every last drop, he bends over to kiss you, holding your face with both hands as his cum smears across his own face. 

Namjoon doesn’t stop his deep strokes into your cunt, causing you and Jungkook to moan into one another’s mouths as his actions force your faces closer to the beat of his dick entering you. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper once he pulls away. 

“So good… always so good for me.”

He licks a glob of warm seed from your cheek, giving you multiple chaste kisses afterwards as his friend begins to slow his assault on your pussy. You whine when Namjoon’s cock leaves you empty, but he placates you by spanking your ass and then massaging over the reddened skin. 

“You could’ve come in me, Joonie,” you tell him.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your skin to wash away the remnants of his pleasure. 

“Shit, no I couldn’t. I wanted to, believe me, but I’m still empty from you sucking my fucking soul outta me earlier.” You chuckle proudly at the same time Jungkook stands to his full height. “Kook, why don’t you fuck her while I watch? Let me ramp back up.”

“That alright with you or do you need a break?” Jungkook asks as he tucks your sweaty hair behind your ear.

“Have I ever needed a break, Jungkook?”

Your reply makes him smirk in satisfaction.

“C’mere, then,” he whispers while leaning down to kiss you again, sending you both tumbling backwards as he hovers above you.

His hands rake across your thighs until they catch your dress so he can pull it over your head, forcing your lips apart for a mere second before they collide again. With you now naked beneath him, Jungkook touches you everywhere he possibly can, letting his fingers map your outline as if he doesn’t already have you memorized ten times over.

“No bra?”

He eagerly kisses across your jaw and down your neck, one hand stopping the excursion to hold your head still so he can suck on your sensitive skin before licking over the mark he leaves. 

“You know me,” you breathe.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers into your skin and then takes a possessive bite with his canines. 

In one smooth motion, you wrap your thighs around his hips and flip him so you can rest your bare cunt over his length. He makes a surprised noise at the momentary act of dominance, an adorable laugh coming from his lungs as he affectionately holds your hips. Scraping his toned pecs with your nails, you admire the vision of him beneath you and absentmindedly trace his new tattoo with your pointer finger. 

“You wanna ride me, beautiful?” He asks with a squeeze of his digits into your sides. When you nod, he smiles graciously and leans up to kiss your collarbones. “Say it.”

“I wanna ride you, Jungkook.” Your nails create thin, red marks in his skin so you can hear him moan. “I need to feel your big cock filling me up.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

Jungkook brings you to your knees while your hand slithers between your bodies to stroke him until he’s fully erect and twitching in your palm. When you sit on his thighs and he penetrates you again after what feels like an eternity, your head falls back in irrevocable ecstasy. He takes on a similar pose, his head pressing into the pillows surrounding him as his fingers leave brutal indents on your hips.

“Oh, God,” you whimper.

The recognizable sensation is otherworldly and every nerve ending in your body seems to come alive at the feeling of Jungkook coming home. His dick is white-hot and pulsing within you and it’s impossible for your senses to comprehend anything but him and his cock. You’re not certain you even want to move from this position, perhaps you’ll just remain still and cockwarm him while appreciating everything you lost. 

Jungkook clearly has other ideas, because he uses his leverage to start bouncing you up and down, letting everything but his tip leave your walls before forcing his entire cock into you again at the perfect pace.

“Shit, you feel s’fucking good,” he tells you. 

You only manage a broken whine in response because his engorged head is consistently kissing your g-spot while your clit grinds against his pelvis. 

Namjoon is staring at the erotic scene from the chair beside the bed, obviously mesmerized by your tits bouncing in time with your hips. You momentarily catch his eye, winking at him as he licks his lips and slowly strokes himself, but your attention is stolen when Jungkook pulls you down for a breathtaking kiss.

Twin moans tangle in the air around your faces as Jungkook seamlessly slips his tongue into your mouth and you grab his face so you can continue messily devouring each other without restraint. 

“I imagined this so many fucking times,” Jungkook confesses.

In an act of complete betrayal to your consciousness, you reply without missing a beat.

“Me, too.”

He forces your lips apart to fill your mouth with his tongue, allowing the muscle to sloppily explore and dance with your own. His teeth sink into your swollen lower lip and you whimper, causing Jungkook to possessively swallow the noise as he returns to kissing you. 

Meanwhile, you steal control and force Jungkook into the backseat, fucking yourself on his big cock and riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Jungkook growls in response and his hands crawl up your spine until he’s able to grasp your hair between his fingers. As you speed up and force your thighs down harder, his dick expands your hole and creates harsh friction along your gummy walls. Each time your pubic bones meet, the fullness he provides steals your breath away. Although you’re honestly too busy kissing him to bring oxygen into your lungs, anyway. 

When you finally do inhale, purely for your own survival, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to greedily kiss across your tits, coating your flesh in his shiny saliva. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles into your skin before taking a nipple into his mouth.

His teeth scratch the pebbled skin to make you whimper before flicking his tongue a couple times, giving the same treatment to your other boob, only with his fingers. He suckles the nub with a satisfied groan while you attempt to maintain your rhythm, which isn’t easy when your brain is short circuiting. 

“Jun – Jungkook, holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” you nonsensically praise him.  

You feel the vibrations from his happy chuckle against your other breast now that he’s switched sides to smear more spit on you.  

The energetic cadence is making your legs go numb, but you can’t imagine stopping even with the ache in your thighs. This moment is far too heavenly, and you’ll willingly lose all feeling in your limbs before letting it go. Thankfully, Jungkook can tell by your faltering hips that you need assistance, so he plants his feet and fucks up into your cunt like a madman.

“Oh, my God!” You screech.

Holding onto his chest in desperation, you involuntarily give him full control because there’s no way you can match his monstrous pace. He’s sending his cock so deep inside you that you worry about the survival of your guts. He fills you up and fucks you so good it feels like you’re choking on him despite his length being far from your throat. 

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he begs. “Please, I’ve been dreaming about feeling you squeeze my cock again.”

“I’m so close.”

Jungkook uses your confirmation as fuel to shift into overdrive on your already battered pussy, utilizing all his energy to bring you the most euphoric high. Your third orgasm of the night takes the fucking cake, a shrill scream coming from you as you soak his dick with cum. He animalistically growls at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him like a vice, the pulsing of your walls sending his eyes into his skull.

You collapse on his chest, panting and whining as the aftershocks course through you. He slows the thrusting of his hips, but doesn’t stop completely so he can still gently fuck you through the high. 

“Feel good?”

All you can do is nod against his sweaty skin, far too deep into subspace to verbally reply. 

“Want you to come, too,” you whisper while looking up at him.

He smiles down at you and plays with your hair where it rests on his collarbone.

“I will, beautiful, just not yet,” he softly replies.

The two of you separate your sticky bodies and turn to Namjoon, who looks supremely satisfied with your passionate display. 

Once your eyes are on him, he removes his shirt to join his pants on the floor, revealing his chiseled torso. It’s borderline unfair that these two absolute specimens wound up as best friends. Although, you suppose that’s true for everyone other than you, since you’re currently reaping the benefits of their friendship.  

“What’s next?” He questions while standing and moving towards the bed.

“I believe that’s up to the lady.”

“Well, I have two holes for a reason,” you respond automatically.

The sensual gleam in their eyes when they smirk at each other lights a fire in your belly. 

“Who do you want where?” Jungkook asks.

You stand to examine the large mattress while pondering his question, looking between the two men as you imagine the different possibilities. Without another word, you grab Namjoon by the arm and guide him to lay on his back in the center of the bed. Jungkook stands without being told, curiously watching you complete the mental puzzle. You catch his gaze over your shoulder with a smirk of your own when you come to your final conclusion.

“I’ll ride Joonie while you fuck my ass,” you nonchalantly answer like it isn’t the filthiest thing to ever leave your mouth. 

You and Jungkook have had anal sex a couple dozen times over the years, so it seems reasonable for him to take that position rather than introduce someone new to your tight hole.

Namjoon laughs cheerfully from his place on the bed, tucking his hands behind his head with a content smile.

“That sounds fucking perfect to me.” He nods towards Jungkook. “You good with that?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue while tilting his head.

“What was it you said earlier?” He points to you. “What a stupid fucking question?” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the sarcastic response, but they share a laugh, anyway.

The air is still with heavy anticipation before the three of you begin maneuvering into the right positions. Jungkook steadies you by holding your waist as you straddle Namjoon’s hips, following closely behind and planting his knees on either side of his friend’s thighs. His hand massages your shoulders and spine as you spit on Namjoon’s cock and stroke him into the perfect seat for you. The older man groans when he feels your hand working him again, but the sound becomes a gasp as you slowly sink down and bring his thick length into your pussy.

“Ah, shit,” he curses. 

His hands find your hips as his eyes focus on the spot where your bodies connect. 

“That feel good, Joonie?” 

You bat your eyelashes at him in total faux innocence.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got no fucking clue. You’re so fucking wet and tight that you could drive a man crazy with this cunt,” he answers. 

“She has,” Jungkook notes.

A deep blush paints across your chest, neck, and cheeks at their compliments. 

When your hips instinctively rise, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder in protest.

“Don’t move yet,” he instructs behind you. 

He bends your upper body towards Namjoon with a hand between your shoulder blades, giving him access to your asshole. You hear him spit before his wet thumb meets your rim as he works your puckered hole open. The feeling of him playing with you while Namjoon’s cock throbs inside your pussy is catastrophic, and Jungkook only furthers your torment by opening his palm in front of your mouth.

“Spit.”

When you immediately comply, his chest rumbles with laughter against your back before you hear the sound of him lubricating his cock with your saliva. After he fucks his fist a couple times, his soaked tip replaces his digit and gently nudges your hole.

“I’m alright,” you assure him when he doesn’t push in. 

There’s a tender kiss placed on your shoulder as Jungkook moves his hips forward and you feel the unmistakable stretch of him entering your ass. The penetration feels significantly tighter than times prior, partially because it’s been a while, but mostly because your pussy is already full from Namjoon. Their dicks are buried inside your holes with only a thin wall of muscles between them, creating an immense pressure in your core that is inexplicably greater than any sensation you’ve felt in the past. 

You feel outrageously stuffed by the two large cocks and there’s been no movement yet, so you can only imagine how tantalizing it will feel when they tandemly fuck you open. 

“Goddamn.” Jungkook’s forehead meets your shoulder as he takes deep breaths. If the feeling is this tight for you, it must be unbelievable for them. “This is fucking incredible.”

“You’re telling me,” Namjoon replies from beneath you. 

Jungkook’s sweaty chest is pressing on your back while you’re leaning over Namjoon and vehemently gripping his pecs. In fact, you’re in the perfect position for him to have ideal access to your breasts as they swing just above his chin. 

“Everyone ready?” Namjoon nods assuredly as you maintain eye contact with him. You check with Jungkook over your shoulder and he gives you the same response. “Well, please don’t break me, I guess.”

The mischievous laughter surrounding you leads you to believe they will not be heeding said warning. 

“On three?” Jungkook asks.

“One… two… three,” Namjoon counts as your nervous system drowns in anticipation. 

They move seamlessly and simultaneously; Namjoon lifts your hips while Jungkook rears away from your ass, leaving only the head of their cocks inside you before they push in together. You scream so loud you worry the entire floor will hear, and Jungkook must agree because his hand clasps over your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling noise. 

Hot tears of pleasure are already rolling down your cheeks as they harmoniously leave you empty only to return again at a devilish pace. The two of them have impeccable teamwork, their cocks nearly working as one to fuck you stupid. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced before, the double penetration sending your entire being into an abyss of ecstasy. 

Jungkook’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you against him as he watches your asshole stretch around his length. Namjoon continues moving your hips for you to bring him deep inside your pussy with each bounce. It seems your sole responsibility is to merely take the sensual abuse of your holes while screaming and crying into Jungkook’s palm. 

“Jesus, this feels fucking phenominal,” Namjoon moans.

Jungkook doesn’t verbally concur, but you feel him nod in agreement behind you. His grunts of pleasure are happening right against your ear and the sound is pure, sinful music to your ears. 

You think your muted screams do a sufficient job at capturing the sensation of their cocks pistoning into you together, but if you attempt to use words, the only comparison would be drowning and burning at the same time. Jungkook’s presence in your ass lights your entire system ablaze, each pulse sending ripple upon ripple of fire through you. While Namjoon continuously hitting your cervix with his cock brings tsunami size waves crashing over you. Their bodies feel like two halves of a whole, the jaw dropping motions complimenting each other as though they were meant to be experienced as one. 

Namjoon begins kissing your breasts and even relinquishes his hold on your hips to play with the fatty flesh, bringing stimulation to every erogenous zone at once. 

“Joon, can you feel me the way I can feel you?”

“Mmhm.” 

His reply is quiet due to his face being stuffed between your tits. 

“Fuck, I’m losing my mind,” Jungkook notes.

You certainly understand the sentiment. It feels as though their cocks are right up against each other inside you, so you imagine the sensation is mutual even though they’re in separate spaces. Their minds seem to sync up as well, because they amp up their speed and force at the same moment, causing you to accidentally bite down on Jungkook’s hand due to the sheer intensity of the change. 

He hisses in response, his hand venturing down to wrap around your throat instead. His fingers apply light pressure to the sides of your neck and he eventually starts kissing the skin just above his hand. The gentle affection of his lips in comparison to his dick splitting you apart makes your head spin. You reach back to hold his head in place, lacing your fingers into his soft hair and pulling on the strands until he groans into your skin, meaning the hand still resting on Namjoon is the only thing keeping you upright.

Namjoon is kissing and sucking on your boobs while Jungkook continues caressing your neck with his mouth. Couple that with the large hand choking you and the two cocks inside you and you’re heading straight for the milky way.

“You two… oh… holy fuck…” 

It would be inconceivable to produce a full sentence at the moment, and the weak, stuttering curses you manage are practically incoherent. 

Jungkook laughs into your skin, leaving you with a final peck. 

“Yeah? It feels that good, beautiful?”

You have no clue how he can speak clearly when all his energy is being utilized by his hips ramming into your ass. 

“Yes,” you meekly answer.

His lips come to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as his tongue licks along your earlobe.

“This tight little hole is still mine, isn’t it? Your pussy, too. Bet no one’s touched you like I have,” he whispers. A mindless nod is all you grant him, but his grip around your throat tightens when you don’t answer him. “I want you to tell me yourself.”

“No one,” you gasp. The hand in his hair returns to Namjoon’s chest so you can steady yourself. “I haven’t let anyone touch me since you, Jungkook.”

A satisfied growl vibrates against your ear.

“More.”

“My pussy, my ass, my whole body is yours,” you state, despite your best interest. “It has always been.”

“And always will be?”

At the same time he speaks, he demonically thrusts into your ass and you cry out as your head falls to his shoulder. 

“Yes, yes, yes, always!”

“There’s my girl,” he affirms with a sharp bite to your cartilage. 

Namjoon is still tweaking your nipples either with his hands or mouth, alternating every couple minutes to give them equal attention. He laps at them with his moist tongue before going in slow circles and scraping his teeth over the skin, effectively making your nipples oversensitive, which only heightens the pleasure you feel as he plays with them. His mouth is comfortingly warm and you adore the feeling of him licking across your tits as he fucks you. 

The twitching cocks you feel in both your pussy and ass is evidence enough that the two men are close to finishing, their heavy balls slapping against your skin in time with their thrusts providing further proof. Your own climax is peering just around the corner and you start fucking yourself on their shafts at the same cadance as them to bring your end closer.

All three of your voices fill the space with nonsensical moans as your orgasms race towards the finish line together. 

“Can I come inside you, baby?” Namjoon asks. 

His dick feels so perfect within your cunt that you can’t imagine telling him no and not allowing him to paint your insides white.

“Please,” you answer.

You want Jungkook to blow his load inside you, too, hoping he’ll fill your ass up so much it drips out and soaks your thighs in his seed. 

“Shit, you ready to make a fucking mess of her, Joon?” Jungkook asks across staccato grunts.

“Never been more ready in my goddamn life.”

Jungkook reaches around to play with your clit after Namjoon’s confirmation so you all come at once and it only takes another minute of your bodies working in tandem for the three of you to reach an unexplainable high together. 

“Jesus, fuck –” Namjoon chokes.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jungkook gasps. 

It’s astonishing to think you could feel any more full, but once the seed spills from their cocks into your respective holes, you truly believe they’ll rip you apart right down the middle. 

Namjoon is fucking his cum into your pussy with deep, deliberate strokes and sending his semen so far into your womb you feel thankful for birth control. Similarly, Jungkook continues forcing his hot seed into your ass even once it begins leaking out and drenching his dick. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” you whine as your own orgasm makes your cunt pulse around them. 

It’s easily the messiest thing you’ve ever experienced, with the fusion of all three essences endlessly spilling out and pooling in your conjoined laps. 

“Damn,” Jungkook curses while falling limp against your back.

You’re all breathless by the time their movements cease. Your body is keeping their softening cocks warm during the come down and you wonder what being empty will feel like after being stretched so wide.

“Fucking insane,” Namjoon comments, making you and Jungkook chuckle weakly.

Jungkook is the first to move and even though he carefully pulls out, more of his cum drips from your ass and soils the sheets. Once he’s free from the dogpile, you gradually move to a kneeling position before flopping onto the mattress beside Namjoon while Jungkook occupies his opposite side. 

“I gotta thank whoever leaked gas in this fucking hotel,” Jungkook states. 

“I’ll be right there with you,” Namjoon adds. 

You're positive you would laugh at their comments if you weren't the most tired you've ever been in your life.

“C’mon, let’s get you into something comfortable,” Jungkook announces.

After four orgasms and both your holes being jackhammered open, you don’t know if anything but a nice, warm bath will bring you comfort. Although, Jungkook bringing a large shirt over your head and pulling your hair out from where it’s trapped beneath the hem is definitely close. 

“Thank you,” you murmur as your head falls forward until it meets his abdomen. 

His fingers gently comb through your hair and your eyes shut with a content hum, the familiar, soothing motions nearly putting you to sleep. You feel the bed dip when Namjoon stands and the sudden movement makes you pull back and survey your surroundings.

“Are you okay?” 

You meet his concerned gaze and nod.

“I’m fine, Jungkook, just still coming back to earth,” you explain. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

You don't reject his assistance even though you absolutely should. Instead, you lay back again and appreciate the feeling of Jungkook delicately cleaning up between your legs and down your thighs.

There's movement going on behind your eyelids, and you figure it's because Namjoon is setting up the pull out bed, which you hear him lay down on with a groan afterwards.

“As long as you’re okay with it, we can share the bed,” Jungkook offers.

You’re too tired to worry about the implications of sleeping in the same bed together. So, you nod and reach your arms up, letting him pull you up bridal style so he can tuck you in before joining you a fair amount away, which you appreciate given the circumstances.

Sleep welcomes you into her embrace before you even have the chance to overthink anything.

Their voices pull you from slumber some hours later and your eyes struggle to open as light shines in through the large windows.

If the original prediction of twenty four hours is still correct, you must have at least another twelve to go based on the sun’s position in the sky. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Namjoon says when he notices you’re awake. 

“Hi,” you croak. All your screaming and moaning from the night prior clearly took a toll on you. “How are you guys doing?”

“Us?” Jungkook laughs.

You involuntarily smile at the sound of his happiness. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk, to be honest,” you respond. 

To prove your point, you attempt to stand and the ache between your legs nearly sends you toppling backwards into the mattress. Both men giggle at your baby deer stance and you shoot them a menacing glare.

“Need help?” Jungkook asks with a sly grin. 

It would be far too embarrassing to accept, so you just take small, measured steps to the bathroom to freshen up. Jungkook lets you borrow a pair of sweatpants and the three of you eat from the mini fridge as a pseudo breakfast before chatting about current events and pop culture as the hours steadily tick by. 

As it turns out, the lockdown does end early, with the total time being about eighteen hours. It leaves you with plenty of time to get ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight, which Hoseok confirms is still happening via a Facebook post.

Jungkook offers to walk you back and even though your room is only ten doors down, you say yes without much deliberation. He also refuses to accept his clothes and orders you only return them once they've been washed, his obvious attempt at ensuring you see each other again after the wedding.

You thank Namjoon for his services and he reciprocates the gratitude before you and Jungkook leave side by side. The short walk happens in comfortable silence and when your hands accidentally brush, you don’t question Jungkook’s actions as he catches your hand and laces his fingers with yours. 

Once you reach the hotel room, you drop his hand and turn to say goodbye, but Jungkook beats you to the punch.

“Are you gonna save a dance for me tomorrow?” He asks with a saccharine grin.

The eye roll is instantaneous.

“I’ll think about it,” you respond. 

Before you’re able to key inside, Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you with enough force to push you into the wooden door. Your surprised screech turns into a soft moan as you allow his tongue to dance with yours in your mouth. Your hands subconsciously rise to hold his jaw as you shamelessly makeout in the hallway, neither of you caring about the possibility of other guests seeing you.

Jungkook is chasing your mouth like he could do it forever and you have zero complaints, feeling nothing but content as your lips move in lackadaisical circles together. His thumbs caress your cheekbones as you kiss and with your eyes closed, you can almost imagine you’re back home in your shared apartment. 

When your mind finally catches up to reality, you pull back and push at his shoulder to create some space between your heads.

“What was that?”

Your ex looks the happiest you've seen him all weekend.

“Just wanted to give you something to think about,” he replies. 

Your eyes roll again, but this time there’s affection for the man before you written all over your face. You tap your keycard to open the door and slip inside without another word, but turn around at the last minute with a smile.

“See you later, Googie.”

“Bye,” Jungkook waves. 

It’s only once the lock clicks that Jungkook realizes what you called him, and as soon as he does, he pumps his fist in a silent victory cheer. He starts laughing to himself like a total maniac outside your door and he even does a heel-click jump out of pure excitement while walking back to his room.

You don’t witness any of his celebrations, but the sentiment is shared between you nonetheless. 

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @joonlover1207 @goldenko-97

Part 2, titled Harmonious Agreement, coming soon...

[invinciblerodent]

Are people playing the same game I did? What do they mean "Rook has done nothing to earn Solas' loyalty"? Given what Solas did to Varric, and just the general threat Solas' plans represent, Rook is well within their rights to give zero shits about his loyalty. Why are they concerned about Rook earning Solas' loyalty to begin with? Solas wronged THEM not the other way around??? What did Rook even do? Stop the ritual? The ritual which was going to cause apocalyptic destruction? You can't blame Rook for not having all the facts. The one who does have all the facts (Solas) has been keeping them to himself. It's not Rook's fault if they only know what they've been told. What are they supposed to think given that demons are literally popping up all over the place? Solas hasn't exactly given Rook any reason to trust him. Did they forget Solas has a whole track record of being untrustworthy??? And even that considered Rook still makes plenty of effort to understand Solas? That entire quest with Solas' memories? Various companions weighing in based on their perspectives? I don't understand where they're getting this impression that Rook is some unreasonably judgemental dickhead. I'm sorry for ranting I'm just so tired of going into the VG tags and seeing people put the most unwarranted Rook hate in the main tags. How do people have the most bad faith takes about their own character? Are they role-playing them like that??

Dude, I totally get what you mean. These are all the same questions I'm asking myself every time I happen across a take like that. (Adding the link to my prev post about the take in question.)

If you'll allow me some room for pondering, my guess is just that... they are kind of roleplaying them like you say, but they're not truly roleplaying. Or better said, they're not playing the role of Rook.

I think that these people posting takes like that, they're playing as themselves, not taking up the perspective of a character within the story but looking into the story from the outside, AND they're doing so filtered through the lens of having previously also played Inquisition (and their Inquisitor) the same way.

What I think may be happening here is that the Inquisitor's (and by extension, these players') experience with Solas is, by design, drastically different from that of Rook, and many of those who have loved the character they knew Solas as for a long time (a decade at this point) find Rook's and Veilguard's perspective of him and his role in the story irreconcilable with what they know.

These players see Solas as a companion, a friend, a lover, a character who is fundamentally a protagonist in the story (regardless of the fact that Trespasser explicitly states that him achieving his goals would cause massive devastation and the end of Thedas as we know it, plus that much of the face that he showed in Inquisition, he himself admitted was either shown under false pretenses or was an outright lie), and with that being their version of the truth about him as far as they are concerned, they find conceptualizing him as an antagonist very difficult, or even impossible.

Which means that the neutral/wary attitude that Rook (a character who was written as someone who never before interacted with Solas, spent the better part of the year pursuing him with the intention of stopping him, and now has goals that are explicitly contradictory to his ultimate goal) puts them in a place where the player's point of view character is one they think of as an antagonist.

That's why they think that Rook is the one who should win Solas' trust and loyalty, that's why they're frustrated that Rook has no option to immediately believe and trust everything Solas says and prioritize helping him, and in some fringe cases, that's why they think there should have been an option to let the Veil be brought down and let Solas succeed.

Simply, I think that these people, they aren't engaging with the story as written, but they are constantly fighting against their own protagonist, which creates this sort of... I guess moral dissonance(? can I call it that?) between them, and the point of view that the game asks them to embody.

I don't know how much sense this makes (I've been microwaving this in my head for a long time, I think it may be a bit burnt at this point), but I feel like it lines up with the posts that have broken into my isolation chamber. Granted I don't purposefully engage with these types of posts and I'm pretty sure I've blocked a large chunk of the people posting this stuff, but...

I mean, to me it makes sense, lol.

It's kind of that theme of fact and truth and history changing depending on who tells it (which permeates the entire setting) seeping into the real world, and into the fandom.

That has kind of an almost poetic irony to it.

[idonthavepurplehair]

Shadow and Bone had the potential to be a REVOLUTIONARY series but ended up falling short partly because of leigh bardugo's inexperience as a writer but also because of its target audience.

I think if it had been written for a slightly older demographic it could've explored some of its more mature/complicated themes without worrying about having to be like. So black-and-white with its morality. I'm mostly referring to Darklina but also the perspectives of both sides of the war

Putting the (potentially rambly and incoherent) post under a readmore bc spoilers

Like when I read the books the first time, I was really underwhelmed by the Darklina canon, because from what fan content I'd seen it looked like a much more deep, messy, complicated relationship than the barely-even-a-fling that it actually was. Alina and the Darkling had barely a handful of conversations before suddenly being physically attracted to each other and then alina almost immediately turned on him when baghra told her the truth. And even after that canon treats it like a lovers-to-enemies situation when it was more "we kissed twice and then decided to be obsessed with each other even though we had 0 chemistry and were barely even friends before that"

And writing a toxic/unhealthy/obsessive relationship is DIFFICULT, especially when you have to keep it clear to the readers that what is happening is BAD but also understandable and not idiot plot. Which is something you don't really have to do as much when your readers are older. You can really dive deep into the ugly fucked up things about the relationship while also trusting your readers to have the maturity + reading comprehension to understand that This Is Not Healthy without having to like. Spell it out for them.

Like give me codependent mutually destructive Darklina. "We are irreconcilably on different sides of this war but you are the only person who has ever really understood me." "You are the only person in this world I have ever cared about. I will not hesitate to destroy you." Give me Alina being on the Darkling's side, being his second in command, being blindly utterly loyal, not realising that he's using her because he doesn't realise it himself. Give me her slow, horrible realisation that no, he is actually the villain of this story. That turning on him is going to cost her everything, actually, her heart and her soul and her twin flame, but she has to do it because his actions are irredeemable.

It would make their dynamic after Alina's desertion of the Second Army so much more compelling, if they had this kind of intense connection already established and not just thrown in here and there for plot reasons with basically no foundation.

Because why did Alina run to the Darkling every time she fought with Mal? Or every time she faced tough situations? When she was feeling overwhelmed? When she finally defeats him why does she feel so protective of his legacy, his wishes for his last rites? I mean she barely knows this guy. Why does she care so much? What has this dude even really done for her to have this kind of attachment to him?

Also, the whole thing about "everyone is sorry but only the darkling is willing to do something about it" was so real??? Why was it just brushed over?? Like the Darkling and his supporters highkey made some points. And like. Forgive the older, seasoned Grisha for staying with him instead of defecting to this new kid with no plan and no army who abandoned them for apparently no reason and thrust them into another war when they were already stretched so thin??

And why is alina so sure of what side she's on. Why are we, as readers, supposed to believe that alina is right. Her only issue with the Darkling was his disregard for non-grisha life, but alina shows that same disregard for anyone on the Darkling's side. That's a really high horse for someone who spent her whole life trying to not have a personality to sit on. And it makes her rejection of the Sankta Alina title make even less sense because if she's going to be this holier-than-thou, she might as well commit to it

Basically s&b had so much to say and so many opportunities to say all of it but then it just. didn't. Because leigh wanted to play it safe. but only sometimes.

[pryderlinua]

Pryderlinua: A Shipping Manifesto (with a Side of @tesslinua Shade)

Opposites Attract: Order vs. Chaos, Law vs. Life (Sorry, Tess)

Pryder and Alinua couldn’t be more different in terms of their worldviews, and that’s exactly why they work.

Pryder is all about order, structure, and the rule of law. He values stability and he’s not afraid to uphold it—whether with a stern lecture or a sharp blade.

Alinua, on the other hand, is a force of nature (literally), driven by emotions, compassion, and the free-spirited force of Life Magic. She’s chaos wrapped in kindness, always moving with the flow of her heart.

Tesslinua fans, don’t get too comfy. While Tess may be fun and spontaneous, she’s all over the place, and let’s face it—her chaotic energy just doesn’t give Alinua the stability she needs. Tess can’t always be there to keep things in check, but Pryder? He can give Alinua the balance she deserves, while still challenging her to grow in all the best ways.

A Relationship of Growth and Understanding (Sorry Tess, You’re Still Just A Little Too Messy)

Pryder and Alinua would be the ultimate pair of complementary opposites, helping each other grow in ways that would never happen with Tess. Sure, Tess is a good friend, but let’s be real:

Pryder’s calm, collected nature would help Alinua reign in her powers and learn to think before acting. A little bit of tactical strategy never hurt anyone, right?

Alinua’s warmth and compassion would push Pryder to open up and connect with others on a more emotional level. Tess? Tess might just make her yell more when things don’t go her way!

Unlike Tesslinua, where it’s all “let’s run wild and see what happens,” Pryderlinua would be built on trust, learning, and mutual support. Can Tess say that? Doubt it. "Let me share my home with you," sis you don't even have a home. What you're gonna crash at Alinua's place for a week like a hobo then fuck off on another adventure?

The Protector and the Healer (Tess is... Well, Tess)

When it comes to the Protector vs. Healer dynamic, Pryder and Alinua have it down.

Pryder is more than willing to fight for what he believes in, but he would never let Alinua put herself at risk without ensuring she’s protected. His loyalty means something, and he wouldn’t leave her vulnerable.

Alinua, as the healer, would remind Pryder that not every difference is irreconcilable—sometimes, kindness and care are the ultimate diplomatic tools.

Now, Tess? Tess might try to help, but let’s face it—she’s more likely to get in trouble, drag Alinua into danger, and then “oops, sorry” her way through it. That’s fun at the moment, but it’s not really the stability and growth that Alinua needs. Pryder, however, would be there every step of the way, helping Alinua balance her healing powers with the practical reality of their dangerous world.

Enemies to Allies to Lovers (Tesslinua is Just ??? to ???)

Pryder and Alinua’s relationship would start with tension, yes—but in the best possible way. Their initial friction over their differing philosophies would lead to fascinating development, where they slowly come to respect each other, eventually growing into a deep emotional bond.

Pryder would learn to trust his emotions (no, not just his duty) and start realizing that Alinua’s spontaneity is not just chaos—it’s life in action.

Alinua would learn that not everything needs to be healed instantly, and that strategy and planning are essential too.

Tess and Alinua’s dynamic, on the other hand, is just a series of “whoops, that was a bad idea” moments followed by more bad ideas. Yeah, the chemistry’s there, but it’s more like a roller coaster that never gets off the ground—it’s fun, but ultimately, it’s all over the place.

He/Him Lesbian Supremacy (Tess literally can't even bother with a she/they)

Are we just handing the reins to any muscly lesbian these days? Tess ticks all the sapphic boxes, sure, but Pryder sees beyond that and carves his own path through the gender fluid.

Final Thoughts: The Real Match for Alinua

Let’s face it—Pryderlinua has depth, development, and a healthy balance of tension and warmth.

Pryder’s protective nature, paired with Alinua’s warmth and passion, would create a romance that is both tender and powerful.

Tess might be fun, but fun only gets you so far when you’re literally carrying the weight of life’s magic on your shoulders.

Pryder respects Alinua’s strength and individuality, while Tess is a bit too distracted by shiny things to see what Alinua really needs.

Alinua deserves someone who sees her potential, respects her power, and helps her grow into the best version of herself. In contrast, Tess is just there for the ride—and that’s fine, but Pryder is in it for the long haul.

Let’s be real—Pryderlinua is the ship that sets sail to greatness. Tesslinua may be entertaining, but let’s leave it at that.

[merryfortune]

True Feeling Chocolate

Written for Year of the OTP 2025

February: Valentine’s Day | “It made me think of you.” | Bed Sharing | Multiple Penetration | Mind Control/Mind Break

Title: True Feeling Chocolate

Ship: Respectfulshipping | Ryoken/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 1,653

Rating: T

Warning: Choose Not to Warn 

Tags: Pre-Canon, Valentine’s Day, Established Relationship, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Kissing, Minor or Implied Jealousy

   As soon as Ryoken saw how his locker was overflowing with gift chocolates, he knew that he would be in trouble.

   Ryoken was not oblivious. 

   He knew he was on the popular side of things. His theory to conceal his extracurricular activities as a cyber terrorist was to be polite and imperceptible in real life. Accommodating, charming, all those sorts of things. He did not go out of his way to be helpful or a teacher’s pet but if he was asked, he would not refuse. He tried all club activities just once. All to give the appearance that all was fine within. That he was a normal boy with a normal personality and a normal background.

   The practice was not quite so cut and dry nor dull. Due to this, he had amassed something of a following. He had no friends but plenty of acquaintances who thought they were friends and clearly, some of them had feelings beyond the platonic. 

   An issue.

   Ryoken collected the various chocolates. Some homemade, some store bought, all with at least a little bit of effort put into their presentation. Handwritten cards, silky bags for the confection. It was cute, sweet, even. Just wasted on him for three reasons.

   One. He did not have sentimental feelings towards his classmates. He wanted to be just another picture in the year book, vaguely remembered and with offhanded fondness. The amount of chocolate that he had been given throughout the day was not conducive to that goal, unfortunately.

   Two. Like anyone else, he was environmentally conscious. It would be rude to the feelings imbued in the chocolate and worse for his conscience if he unceremoniously dumped the chocolate in the garbage.

   Three. His heart belonged to someone already, Spectre.

   Would it be unethical to regift all this chocolate? Ryoken was unsure. Giving some of it to the Lieutenants seemed okay. That was very apparent obligation chocolate, if a little non-traditional in nature with a sixteen year old male handing it out. Not quite so cute compared to when he was eight but he was sure that it would be appreciated, nonetheless.

   However, saving even one bag for Spectre… That’s where Ryoken felt something twinge deep within his stomach. 

   Ryoken cared deeply for Spectre, afraid of the things which might have to come to pass and be asked of him if things continued to go awry with the Ignis. He wanted to let him know, let him in, his one and only true friend.

   Spectre was an eccentric. That much was true. He was a skilled duellist with the keen eye of an analyst and astute observationalist. 

    Occasionally, he was a little bit beyond Ryoken’s understanding, claiming to hear the voices of trees and nature around him. Other times, he was very obvious. He wanted to belong, he wanted to be of need and so, would go to any means to provide: cooking, cleaning, and even taking upon the mantle of second-in-command in their organisation. 

   Sometimes they hurt each other. They had irreconcilable differences of the past and yet, they were able to build past that in their companionship. As long as there had been meaning to the suffering, Ryoken supposed he could cope with that. As long as there was a duty to fulfil, Spectre could accept. And so, they made a

   Therefore, it would be better to give him chocolate which was just for him. Not hand-me-downs. He deserved a little bit better than that. After all, he had made it into the Hanoi’s wardship in clothes which were baggy on him and gifted from older kids having graduated from the orphanage he hailed from in one way or another. That put a chip on his shoulder regarding how overlooked he often felt, lacking specialness and the love that supposedly came with it.

   Still, Ryoken held onto the chocolate and took it home with him.

   “I’m back.” Ryoken announced as he arrived.

   “Welcome home.” Spectre replied from somewhere deep within the mansion. His voice rang through the white, minimalist halls.

   Spectre was not in traditional education. He could better hide from protective services if he had minimal contact with the public. Instead, he was somewhere between home schooled and unschooled. He chose his own subjects, did his own assignments. With tutelage from Aso and Dr. Genome, he was already writing essays on biology at about an academic level so it was working out for him.

   Today’s lessons were… in homemaking, Ryoken discovered as he came to the kitchen. He had a suspicion that he would find Spectre there and amid quite a mess of chocolate.

   Spectre looked immersed within his element, having toiled hard for Ryoken. He was wearing a green and orange apron with a flower motif, a satisfied smile as he gestured over everything he had been cobbling together. Spectre was good at cooking and so, the whole kitchen wafted with a mouthwatering aroma of chocolate, accompanied by delicious accents like nuts and berries.

   “You're just in time,” Spectre said, “the first batch just finished cooling.”

   “Ah, about that…” Ryoken let out half a guilty chuckle. He was holding the gifts that he had received during school. He raised his arms as he clutched them, his shoulders a shrug.

   Regardless, Spectre was not impressed by the gesture. His whole vibe from before shifted. Darkened. All but immediately as he realised what Ryoken meant/ He seethed as he stared, boring a hole in the middle of Ryoken’s forehead. His expression disgruntled to say the least with how his face moulded and quirked. A fathomless amount of malcontent began to emanate off him.

   “It’s all obligation chocolate, from a few of my classmates.” Ryoken came clean. Somewhat, anyway. He was sure some of it was not obligatory but it was easier to sate Spectre this way.

   Spectre’s present behaviour was the other reason he could not go to an actual school. He was too insecure, jealous, and again, an eccentric. There would no doubt be countless incidents of bullying if he were to be put into a social system as cut throat as high school: most of which he would be responsible for, Ryoken had a suspicion. He knew from Spectre’s past in the orphanage, he dealt it out as much as he had been picked on.

   “But I want your chocolate, it's the only chocolate I want,” Ryoken assured Spectre, he stepped closer, put down his burden and came around the kitchen island, “because it's the only chocolate made of genuine feelings that I feel the same for.”

   His voice was soothing and Spectre let go. He sighed and let Ryoken touch his face. He caressed him, massaged his face.

   “Are you hungry?” Spectre asked, his voice was soft despite his initial irritation.

   “For you? Always.” Ryoken flirted.

   “Good,” Spectre smirked, “I made your favourite first, milk with a marshmallow centre… Do you want me to get them?”

   “Yes, please.” Ryoken purred.

   He let go of Spectre and allowed Spectre to go to the fridge. Ryoken waited, patiently, and leaned on the kitchen island. He glanced through the various bowls and experiments and since Spectre’s back was turned, he swiped his finger across one of the rims and sucked the chocolate ganache off his finger. It was thick and silky, had a good amount of sweetness and made Ryoken expect yet more great things from Spectre.

   Spectre opened the fridge and he pulled out a silicone mould tray. He turned around and offered it to Ryoken with a smile. A genuine smile, a happy smile.

   “I’m not sure how they taste but I hope you like them.” Spectre said.

   “I’m sure I’ll love them.” Ryoken assured him.

   “Hold your hands out.” Spectre replied.

   Ryoken nodded and cupped his hands in front of him.

   Spectre, meanwhile, carefully removed some chocolates from the mould. They popped out easily with a smooth outer shell that artfully reflected the overhead, fluorescent lights of the kitchen. The chocolates were small and rose-shaped with a flat base. They were very cute and very Spectre.

   Spectre placed them one by one, face up, to Ryoken, “Enjoy.”

   “Thank you.” Ryoken replied.

   The trio of chocolates that Spectre had laid out for him were cold against his skin. Ryoken picked through them, they were all of the same, endearing homemade quality and he chose the middle one. He ate it with a smile and Ryoken couldn’t have enjoyed it more. As far as he was concerned, Spectre was a master chocolatier for producing such a treat.

   The chocolate was delicious, the inside truly was his favourite. The marshmallow had frozen solid in the refrigerator but Ryoken didn’t mind. He chewed it, hard, and extracted all the sweetness from the combination of chocolate and marshmallow.

   “Mm, wonderful.” Ryoken all but moaned, a delighted yet sleazy twinkle in his eye as he shovelled the next two into his mouth.

   Spectre preened, happy to be praised.

   Ryoken ate with gusto and followed up with a kiss. His kiss was cheeky. The taste of chocolate pervaded, a little bit of everything since Ryoken discovered, Spectre had been sampling as he had been going as he detected notes of raspberry and caramel. He liked it though, the mishmash of flavour and then the return of Spectre’s lips against his own.

   He was marking territory, in a way. Ryoken’s secret live-in lover, really. 

   Spectre was hungry. Passionate. His technique involved tongue and clash. Ryoken melted into it and returned the vigour up until he needed to breathe. They paused, exchanged a warm gaze as they stared into each other’s eyes.

   “Happy Valentine’s Day, Spectre.” Ryoken whispered. “I’ll have to come up with some good next month for White Day now.” He swooped in again with a second coming of their kiss.

   Spectre laughed, flattered and appreciative. The kiss that now continued, more than enough but he would not complain if he got more.

[strangesmallbard]

okay here are my thoughts on most of the kassandra romances in ac odyssey:

odessa: incredible friends with benefits energy. she’s also shady and overly confident, traits i love in a woman. nothing much here, but a solid first romance. 6/10

roxana: their scene on the mountain is SO sweet and fun, also peak friends with benefits vibes with a hint of something more. 7/10

lykaon: if you’re into soft dudes, he’s pretty soft. not my cuppa, but not offensive. 5/10

daphnae: the sheer concept of a daughter of artemis falling for the warrior woman destined to take her place is fucking incredible, but i was craving more relationship development onscreen. 6/10

anais: childhood best friends to lovers to friends with history because our differences are irreconcilable my BELOVED! i loved how regular and grounded this romance felt. it was nice to see someone love kassandra for who she is, and accept that she can’t be everything too. and kassandra is SUCH a dad. 10/10

those two brothers added later on: in my lesbian onion, these quests are much funnier if you don’t like either of them. kassandra is just like “oh sweet, free brothers!” followed by “oh brother” when they declare their love.

alkibiades: he’s the only dude i had kassandra sleep with because there is nothing heterosexual about this relationship. bisexual 4 bisexual energy is off the CHARTS. men get pegged, etc. 8/10

diona: she could not have been less subtle about being a cultist, but she was very hot. this is the exact mental process i gave kassandra. 7/10

kyra: holy shit, i am devastated by this romance and the entire mykonos arc. when kyra throws a KNIFE at her head, and kassandra immediately falls in love. i think she’s one of the few options where kassandra clearly has romantic feelings, so the ending hits like a sack of bricks. 10/10

thaletas: i killed this man. 0/10

brasidas: not an actual romance, but an honorable mention because of the popularity. idk guys i don’t see it at all! they give me major siblings or uncle & niece vibes. i think kassandra trauma dumps because every older spartan guy is dadcoded to her. 0/10

natakas: look, i don’t hate natakas. he’s fine out of context. perfectly inoffensive. he has a nice face. however, i cannot get over the forced heterosexuality and birth situation! it leaves the worst taste in my mouth! i literally haven’t played ac odyssey since i found out! -5/10, i’m sorry natakas you’re very nice but get out of my house right now

aspasia: the biggest missed opportunity of this entire game. i am so disappointed by the last scene in the cult arc because like, aspasia disappears! we have no emotional connection to her! imagine if they had several run-ins during the main quest. imagine if aspasia actively helped you hunt the other cultists. imagine if ubisoft committed to her gaslight gatekeep girlbossing. i wanted unhealthy emotional attachment! i wanted manipulation! that kiss at the end should have HIT. anyway 10/10 the concept in my head, 2/10 the actual romance

[isolatedbubble]

Romance in MXTX, Priest, and SHL

MXTX: Flower, Wine and Dreamworld

The romance in MXTX's works is like flower that grows in ice and snow; colorful, bright and hopelessly romantic, blossoms in misery and hardships.

It features a distinct "us against the world" mindset, depicting love as the only constant in the world. It's an eternal "dreamworld" detached from worldly matters, the perfect escapism as well as a source of strengths in the face of cruel reality.

Both MDZS and TGCF are a critique of mob mentality.

The contrast between CQL and MDZS is very interesting. While the former ends with LWJ taking charge, and therefore changing the world for the better, the novel ends with wangxian isolating themselves from grand politics and focusing more on helping individuals as recluse. It has an essentially pessimistic attitude towards the morality & intelligence of the collective. 

TGCF takes a slightly more optimistic approach, featuring the crowd being courageous under the right circumstances. However, both works share a similar undertone: putting one’s absolute faith in the collective is dangerous, whereas unconditional trust and devotion can be only found in one-to-one connection

MXTX herself compares MDZS and TGCF to 花间一壶酒 (A cup of wine among flowers), MDZS being the wine and TGCF being flower. She also compares MDZS to 风雪夜归人, the person returning home from snow and wind, and TGCF to 红泥小火炉, a small red furnace.

Priest: Breezing Wind and Burning Iron

The romance in priest's works is more complicated. It's the most gentle in its normal state, when it is rational and collected, in which case it's like the breezing wind, soothing, sweet and light-hearted. It gives the individuals more incentive to achieve their individual and/or societal vision, as well as more reason to value their own lives & well-being.

In Faraway Wanderers, the most distinct feature of WenZhou relationship is how in naturally sync they are, and how comfortable & smooth their dynamic is. They both have past burden, but it doesn’t matter, because they bring simple joy, understanding and happiness in each other’s lives.

In Sha Po Lang and The Guardian, the ML’s lingering love for the MC motivates them to become better version of themselves, to care about others, and to form a holistic vision about bettering society. 

In The Defective, Lin Jingheng(MC) explicitly said that Lu Bixing(ML) is the only meaning in his life. He had little incentive to care about his own life after his revenge plan fell apart. LBX helped him reconnect with his inner idealism, and gave him a reason value his life.

When the passion and fiery energy manifests itself, however, the romance is like burning iron, blood and fire. It isn’t actually toxic or unhealthy, but it's not pure and innocent either; in this case, it strives for something deeper and more intense, never content with the past or the present. The sheer intensity of relationship is like a double-edged sword, walking the fine line between unconditional devotion and dangerous obsession. 

SHL: Spring Water and Healing Open Wounds

The romance in SHL is like "spring water"; it's warm, gentle, nurturing. It breaks through the boundary between individuals to bring the couple closer to each other, taking them back to a utopia of their childhood dream, away from social pressure and responsibility. The theme central to their relationship is “salvation”: how love is able to bring people back to integrity.

Both drama wkx and drama zzs have lots of regret about their past sins and wrongdoings. Four Seasons Manor is essentially a metaphor for purity, acceptance and the safety of childhood home. How to make drama wkx open up and accept this safe harbor as his home is one of the most significant plot-lines of the show.

SHL couple is way more emotionally vulnerable and expressive. A significant part of SHL arc is healing the wounds in an open and honest way. They cuddle and confide in each other way more often, talk about their shameful past and even cry about their regrets in front of one another, which is very rare among MXTX/Priest works.

The heat of the relationship sometimes gets too hot and even burns; in other words, there are constant miscommunications, conflicts and misunderstandings in the relationship. However, they can never let each other go, because it's the only source of warmth left for them in their hopeless lives filled with regrets and guilt.

Similarities and Differences

*Note that this is not a SHL/TYK comparison. TYK is kind of an “unorthodox” priest novel; you will know what I mean if you have read 3+ of her works. 

Relationship Dynamic & Narrative:  

In MXTX’s works, the concept of “romance” itself is divined; and the characters are illustration of the ideal of “undying love”. People are made for one another, to complete one another. Her works use colorful symbolism (silver butterflies, the emperor’s smile, the 3 thousand lanterns, etc.) to depict this romanticized ideal of love. 

For MXTX, the romanticization of “destined love” is one of the most recurring themes of her novels. Therefore, the readers look at their relationship through rose-color glasses. Obsession is usually framed in a jolly & romantic light, and doesn’t feature much tension or stress, and has less negative or unhealthy undertone. 

In most of priest’s works and SHL, soulmates are not born but made, so they have to figure out how their relationship works step by step. Therefore the narrative is less of a “rosy picture”. 

Priest has a habit of using derogatory terms to describe relationships that are mostly healthy, but somewhat “bloody” and edgy, full of excessive passion and obsession. The most common phrase is “爱生忧怖”, a Buddhist term meaning “love results in worry and fear”. 

SHL obviously has to be more subtle in expressing love. That said, drama WenZhou are way more emotionally vulnerable and expressive than their novel counterparts, as well as most Priest & MXTX characters. They have a dramatic falling out once in a while, even towards the end. They barely fit the Chinese definition of Zhiji (to know me/to understand one another), but are “lovers” who are buried deep in their passion instead. 

Past, Future and Evolvement: 

In SHL, characters are encouraged to treasure past impressions that are thrown in figurative “wrappings”, whose luster is derived from age-old experiences (Psychological Types, Carl Jung). In other words, they are encouraged to root their love in a shared past, a Utopia of innocence. 

The contrast between The Defective and Word of Honor is very interesting to observe. Both involve long separation, and the suffering and personality changes hat comes from it.   SHL narrative frames their innocent childhood as something to cling to and return to. Drama WKX is encouraged to accept his identity as Four Seasons Manor disciple because it was part of his childhood past. This is a significant part of drama WenZhou relationship.

In The Defective, the narrative doesn't encourage the couple to dwell on the past that much. On the contrary, the all-knowing AI explicitly discouraged the MC from “comparing past to present”. They are advised to accept changes, however painful it might be, and build a better, more equal dynamic out of it, evolving from one-sided pandering to fighting side-by-side.  

In Priest’s novels, the characters rarely return to something in the past, but look into the future. Change is usually framed as inherently beneficial, albeit usually painful and rocky, the implication being that you need to constantly strive for something better.  

Sha Po Lang is a good example of this, with Gu Yun’s changing attitude towards Chang Geng after he as he matures, gradually showing his intelligence in politics. CG starts referring to GY as Zixi instead of YiFu is also a sign of this change---to see him as equal rather than a parental figure & protector.

The Defective is even more obvious in this regard, with both parties uncomfortable with the change initially, but gradually adjusting to the changes during their 16-year separation. The ML also stops calling MC by his surname “Lin”, as a sign of viewing him as equal. 

In MXTX’s works, change in personality or relationship dynamic is neither framed as painful or good. It just happens. It’s a natural flow that take place when it does. Their relationships are rarely challenged by change. They are objectively at a better place compared to their past, but it’s merely the result of a series of events rather than a deliberate choice or struggle.  

WangXian’s relationship naturally changes over time after WWX’s rebirth, but neither of them really struggles with the change. 

Xie Lian doesn’t even recognize Hua Cheng as the someone from his past, so they start out as friends getting to know each other. 

Salvation and Changing one another: 

Priest herself stated in an interview that she doesn’t believe in the concept of salvation, since people have the inner capacity to be their own savior. Therefore, priest characters usually don’t actively try to change their partner’s morals or personality. Some might be willingly influenced by their partner, but there’s rarely an element of moral condemnation. Even when there is a conflict between different values, the options are 1) to reconcile them by choosing the middle ground 2) to maintain their independence and tackle it with nuance 3) to break up.

On surface level, Mo Du/Silent Reading is about Luo Wenzhou being Fei Du’s salvation. However, as LWZ pointed out himself, Fei Du would’ve been a good person at heart with or without his influence. 

In The Defective, when Lu Bixing mistakenly thought Lin Jingheng stayed in the Eighth Galaxy against his own wishes because of their relationship, and that their priorities are irreconcilable, he even thought about breaking up. Of course he was not serious about it, but this showcased that he would never try to change LJH’s convictions. 

In SHL, however, the concept of salvation is central to the theme. Some find it strange that SHL make drama zzs the more “moral” one of the two, despite his action being more objectively questionable. In fact, the only reason he get framed as more “moral” is that he admitted his fault sooner, and therefore could guide drama wkx’s path back to salvation: to recognize the goodness in people, make peace with external world, to clear his name in Jianghu, and to follow due process with his revenge plan to avoid collateral damages. 

“I tried to change you, but you end up changing me”, said drama ZZS. This relationship dynamic is never present in any of priest’s works I’ve read. Priest characters don’t *try* to change one another. 

Does MXTX believe in salvation? Hard to tell. One could argue that Hua Cheng would have be way more amoral and even immoral if it hadn’t been for XL. This is complicated and is a topic for another time.

However, it is certain that MXTX MCs don’t condemn each other morally. “The orthodox one defending their unorthodox partner in front of the world” is a common wuxia trope, but the way MXTX novels approach it is very different from SHL. 

HuaLian never had a serious falling out about being on different sides. Even when they disagree, they respect each other and love each other exactly the way they are. Hua Cheng didn’t approve of Xie Lian saving Mu Qing, but he didn’t interfere with Xie Lian’s decision. Xie Lian feels responsible for helping Shi Qingxuan in Blackwater arc, but he is perfectly fine with HC helping He Xuan keep secrets. In several cases where they have different values, they are able to make it work with ease.

LWJ never *morally* condemned WWX for his action, and never once objected to WWX practicing demonic cultivation after his rebirth. In fact, LWJ never objected to WWX’s morals; in their previous life he was worried about his safety, and struggled with what to do about certain situations due to his family background, but difference in morality is not an issue for them. 

The “righteous” one does not feel the need to guide their unorthodox partner or to be their salvation with regards to integrity. 

*The similarity & differences part is a bit messy and some points are not fleshed-out. Sorry about that. 

**I don’t claim to have the right interpretation. The lens by which we see different styles of romance is ultimately subjective. 

[rein-ette]

A Selection of England’s Relationships Throughout History

Holy this took me a long time BUT Hetalias back so gotta celebrate ♥️

Obviously these are my personal interpretations of iggy and co. — I would definitely love to hear feedback from anyone who agrees/disagrees or finds any historical inaccuracies.

Also I forgot to mention in the actual legend but the line thickness indicates the major relationship during England’s life at that time or the one he was the most invested in/committed to.

More Special Notes/Thoughts Under the Cut!

I use ship names throughout these notes only to denote a relationship between a nation and England, not necessarily a romantic one.

From a outsider point of view England’s relationship with Port and France are almost the inverse of each other, with one relationship growing stronger when the other weakens and vice versa, but actually from England’s point of view he’s just loved both of them, like, forever. For most of his life Portugal’s political agenda just happened to align better with his, so naturally more time was invested there. But I don’t think that made his feelings for Francis any less profound or intense during that time, and vice versa when he was dating France in the 20th century. Nowadays he’s allowed to do whatever he wants.

Also you actually draw the lines you really realize how long England’s been obsessed with those two amdkfjsjbdjdd

Nedeng and Engbel are so under-appreciated even though they’ve also shared the channel for like, forever? Ned had a reAl intense rivalry going on with England in the 16 and 1700s that could give Spain a run for his money — but to me the difference between SpUK and Nedeng is that the latter is actually has a more mutual respect/kinship undertone that Spain can’t share with England. Those two were born into similar conditions (dirt poor), have somewhat similar mindsets towards success (requires ruthless pragmatism and self discipline), both hate Spain and kinda France, and both like the ocean and the thrill of the more dangerous, darker aspects of life. That’s the foundation for a pretty darn strong friendship, despite the little tiffs in the middle.

I like to think Bel had a huge crush on England during the Napoleonic Wars and into the 19th century. I mean, if there’s ever time to fall in love with England, it’s during the Victorian era. Plus I think a relationship like that would balance out well the image of England as “undesirable” and “unattractive” and Bel as just the little sister foil to Ned. She has needs and wants too, and if she wants the worlds most powerful empire you best believe she’ll have him 👀. Now Eng and Bel are friends with occasional benefits.

I also think the idea that England was isolated and had no deep friendships/relationships beyond whoever he’s shipped with is inaccurate. Arthur’s definitely an intensely private and independent person, and he himself does fall into the trap of believing no one cares about him and that everyone who does try to get close wants him for something. But historically there are many nations who admired and liked him. Much of Prussian aristocracy, for example, could be categorized into “Anglophiles” or “Francophiles” and while Prussia himself is best friends with Francis, it makes sense for him to also be really close with England. In fact, historian Barbara Tuchman described the German ambassador to Britain in 1914 as being torn apart by the thought of conflict between “the country of his birth and the country of his heart.” The German people probably would not have felt as strongly, but I also see Prussia as more closely linked with the military/aristocratic class than the common people after Unification, especially since most of Germany as we know it today was decidedly not Prussian. Essentially Pruk like Nedeng is another pair that share some pretty powerful core values, including a strong, sometimes overwhelming sense of responsibility and loyalty to those they see as “entrusted” to them.

While talking about Germany, we’re actually all sleeping on England x Hanover. This was England’s longest official marriage (the Anglo-Portuguese alliance was mostly about informal commitments) and the Hanoverian House produced Iggys beloved Queen Victoria. I have to do more research here to better characterize Hanover, but I do think this relationship would have had a measurable impact on Arthur, even if it wasn’t romantic in nature (which it probably wasn’t, as the power imbalance between England as an empire and Hanover as a German province was just too great)

Asakiku is another fascinating relationship, not least because cross culture Europe x Asia relations are scarcely explored. Asakiku has so much potential for straight fluff and Arthur and Kiki just vibing about literature and music and the meaning of life, but also lends itself to analysis of more serious questions: how racism might affect nation’s personal relationships, or how nations view human rights abuses, expansionist war and those who perpetrate them, including themselves. Of course these are topics that Arthur could discuss with others like Francis or Prussia, but I think he wouldn’t be as vulnerable, calm, or reflective with anyone but Kiku — ironically because Japan and England’s politics, culture, and history are more distant.

Finally, SpUK and USUK. I feel kinda bad for tagging these cuz a lot of people love these pairings, but while I think Al and Toni both play huge roles in Arthur’s life, it’s not really romantic in nature. Besides Port and Francis Arthur’s known Toni the longest, and they make a great pair because on some levels they get each other, but on others they contrast hard (optimist vs pessimist, faith vs reason, belief in fate vs belief in agency etc.) That makes them great foils for each other but not really great long-term lovers. As for USUK I see it mostly as platonic — there may be no one in this world Artie loves more than the Al, but love can be powerful without being romantic. I do think they tried it out in the 60s during the British Invasion (see The Chosen End series) but ultimately they also have irreconcilable differences in worldview that mean they can’t really be what the other needs in a lover.

[spaceskam]

a classic case of infatuation

Summary: TK is a very annoying coworker.

Tags: enemies to lovers LiteTM, office job au, Carlos POV

for @lire-casander​ !!! happy birthday! I’m so late but i finally finished it! I hope you like it!

ao3

“Whoops.”

Carlos breathed in a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he looked up. TK was walking away, not even bothering looking back at him despite the fact that he’d knocked his letter opener off his desk and onto the floor. It was infuriating and he wanted to do something about it, but that wasn’t feasible all things considered.

Carlos had been working in this office building with this management, slowly working his way from receptionist to the accounts receivable role of the building and he had serious job security. He considered himself rather likeable and a good fit. He enjoyed his job, even, managing to balance out his work-life and his free time in a way that worked for him best. It was great.

Or, it had been until three months ago when April, another accountant who handled the accounts payable aspect of things, had quit to stay home with her kids and they’d hired a nuisance in her place.

His name was TK Strand and he was one of the most cocky people Carlos had ever met. Whereas Carlos tried to get along with everyone and went out of his way to be exceptionally nice even when he was having a bad day and had stayed late on more than one occasion to help other people in his department out because he knew they had children to go home to, TK was full of himself and seemingly bored with his job if the way he found any excuse to walk  around all day said anything. Carlos couldn't even complain about him to anyone because everyone else in the office found him endlessly charming and didn’t understand why Carlos was so bothered by him.

But he was and TK seemed to get off on getting a rise out of him.

On more than one occasion, TK had hidden his car keys or mistakenly mixed their mail or spilled a bit of water on his shoes. Every time he passed his desk, TK would knock something off no matter how much Carlos tried to make it where there was nothing to knock off. Hell, he even once managed to replace some of his deposit stacks and had Carlos scrambling when he almost presented his boss with the Communist Manifesto in comic sans instead.

“Maybe if you didn’t feed into it he would stop,” Michelle had suggested once, stirring her coffee with that annoyingly knowing smile, “Or maybe he’s just acting like a little boy vying for your attention.”

“Then someone should’ve taught him that doesn’t actually work. We’re grown ass men and we’re at work, he needs to grow up,” Carlos insisted, eyes narrowed. He had such a distinct memory of TK leaning against the receptionist desk, probably bothering her with his annoying smile. The memory was probably distinct because he did it damn near every day.

Truly, it was a problem. Shouldn’t he be working instead?

“Then try to ignore him, I definitely feel like that will help.”

It did not help.

“TK!” Carlos snapped, getting up from his desk with a sudden desire to tear him a new one. TK paused, his fingers dancing on the top of a divider for two empty cubicles as he turned to face him. He was smirking and his head was tilted to the side like he just knew he was going to have fun with this.

As if he wasn’t driving Carlos insane.

“Yes, Sir?” TK responded, still grinning. 

“Pick it up.”

“Pick what up?” 

“You know what.”

TK huffed a laugh and took a languid step forward, his head still tilted as if just challenging Carlos to say something about it. Which was stupid and infuriating because clearly no matter what he said, TK wasn’t going to act like a coworker. He was just going to be straight up annoying forever.

“Pick it up,” Carlos repeated. TK rolled his eyes.

“Fine, Dad,” he said, strolling past him just close enough so they bumped shoulders. Carlos watched him pick up the letter opener and wave it around, slamming it on his desk once he was done with his show. “Happy?”

Carlos didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until TK walked away.

“Talk to him,” Michelle suggested again that night as they sat at the bar. Carlos was uncharacteristically pissed and craving a drink, his eyes trained on the neck of his beer as if that would do anything. His stomach was tense with irritation.

“I think I’m going to quit.”

“What? Why would you do that? You love your job,” she said and maybe that was an overstatement, but he definitely worked hard and didn’t hate it. Didn’t hate it until someone was there to distract him and frustrate him to no end.

“Yeah, but I’m going to end up hating it at some point if he doesn’t stop,” Carlos told her. She frowned a little, purposefully exaggerated.

“Then go to your boss if it’s that bad.”

“It… It isn’t that bad. I don’t want to get him fired, he’s just driving me crazy,” Carlos insisted. They fell silent for a moment as Carlos glared at his beer and she stared at his face. He knew that her silence was her reading him and he was quietly dreading whatever she came up with.

“Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so annoyed is because maybe you like him?” Michelle suggested. Carlos scoffed.

“I don’t like him. What’s there to like? He’s annoying and won’t leave me alone and‒”

“And gives you a lot of attention and goes out of his way to make sure you think about him and is undeniably good looking?” Michelle suggested. Carlos glared harder and she let out a laugh. “I’m not saying he’s going about it the right way, I’m just saying maybe you’re just angry that you like him despite the fact that he’s ticking you off.”

“No. No, I’m going to talk to Tommy in the morning about maybe just getting me away from him,” Carlos decided.

Michelle didn’t try to talk him out of it.

He spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about what the hell he was going to do about this situation. He was going to march up to Tommy and explain the situation: TK was a nuisance and he needed to be moved away from him. Or‒no, that sounded like he was in grade school. He was going to explain that maybe he needed to put in his two weeks because of irreconcilable issues. He didn’t want to do that though and he didn’t want to threaten it either. He just wished there was an easier way to go about it.

The next day, after psyching himself up, he did approximately no tattling.

When TK walked by his desk again, Carlos didn’t react at all. Even when he circled back around to knock more shit off at least three times, Carlos didn’t respond and didn’t move to pick anything up. He just pretended it wasn’t there.

“Aw, are you mad at me?” TK said, a teasing tone in his voice as he sat across from him in the breakroom during lunch. Carlos continued to keep his eyes down and his breath even. He was just going to ignore him until he got a hint. “Oh, come on, Carlos. Play nice.”

Carlos rightfully ignored him.

He felt like he’d earned a medal of some sort by the time the day was over and he hadn’t reacted to TK at all. After lunch, TK had backed off for the most part and he’d finally had a soothing few hours at work before his shift finally ended.

And then he was locked in an elevator for six whole floors alone with TK.

“Look, dude, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry,” TK said around the third floor. Carlos, after his day of strength, huffed a laugh.

“You don’t know what you did?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. TK blinked, his lips parting for a moment like he was genuinely confused and Carlos really understood what Michelle meant by him being undeniably good looking.

“Wait, what? What did I do?” TK asked, stepping closer again. Carlos scoffed.

The elevator doors were about to open, but he’d clearly lost his mind because Carlos reached out and pushed the button to make it stop in the middle of its journey before 

“You won’t leave me alone. You bother me constantly, I never get a moment to not be annoyed by you. You literally make me dread going to work. I’ve never had a coworker I’ve considered quitting over until I met you,” Carlos vented. TK’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked actually a bit upset.

“Wait, don’t quit. I was just messing with you. I thought we were having fun,” TK said. Carlos’ eyes widened.

“Fun? You think being poked and prodded and relentlessly annoyed by some guy you don’t even know is fun?” Carlos asked. TK blinked once, twice, before taking a step back and putting a considerable amount of distance between them.

“I’m sorry. I thought… Well, I guess I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that we were friends. That you’re cute and make that stupid serious face when you’re working where your eyebrows get all furrowed and I start thinking that you’re going to give yourself a headache. I don’t know. Sorry that I bothered you, I’ll stop,” TK said. Carlos blinked, staring at him incredulously.

“Are you five?” Carlos asked through a breath, almost annoyed that Michelle was right, “Annoying someone isn’t how you flirt with them.”

TK licked his lips and looked around, eyes stopping on the button to put the elevator back in motion. Then he looked back to Carlos.

“Would it be totally out of line for me to ask you to let me try again?” TK asked, that annoying little smile returning despite everything. Carlos let out an exasperated breath.

“For real?”

“I mean,” TK said, laughing softly, “Yeah. I’ll fuck off if you say no, but, like, if you’d be okay with it, can I woo you in a different way?”

“I don’t exactly have faith that you can woo anyone if your go to tactic was being an annoyance,” Carlos said. TK grinned.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it?”

Carlos stared at him and TK stared back for what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time. He kept hearing Michelle’s voice in his head that maybe it was pissing him off so much because he was interested. Wouldn’t hurt to try seemed to be her method.

Carlos breathed out and started the elevator again, staring forward and immediately stepping out when the doors opened.

“Good luck. I’m not easy to win over,” he said simply. TK laughed behind him.

“Come on, Carlos! Have faith!”

Carlos made his way to his car and took a deep breath, sitting in the silence.

For the first time in weeks, he found himself not dreading work the next day.

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 1: Crux

This just kind of. Sprinted away from me. Have some relationship discussion/examination and character introspection on some Elezen, through the lens of relationships. I hope this sparks joy! Cross posted on AO3

Word count: 2,442

“I beg your pardon,” Aymeric spoke up in the tense quiet of the sitting room. “But I believe this courtship disservices us both.”

His paramour— former paramour, he amended with some bittersweet relief— sighed as if in defeat (but not surprise, and Aymeric noted that acutely,) and set his teacup primly on its saucer.

“May I ask why? I had thought our arrangement had been going rather well.” 

It certainly had been, for a time. Then, as is inevitable with such intimate relations, the true nature of his partner emerged through sheer exposure to him. Aymeric could not reconcile the man he had adored with the man he now knew him to be.

“In coming to know you, I fear our differences are irreconcilable. Further pursuit on either of our parts feels dishonest.”

“This is about the marriage comment, isn’t it?” The noble asked, tone edging on something less than polite. 

A tone Aymeric had gotten uncomfortably familiar with suddenly and recently, when topics of lowborns or bastards came up. Always with the hastily tacked on, “Oh, but I don’t mean you, handsome!” It had guaranteed that he would never even want to entertain the notion of marriage, which in turn had rendered a courtship between them utterly pointless.

“I meant it. I would marry you! You’ve done well for yourself, given your...circumstances. We could still have—”

“No. We cannot.” Aymeric sharply cut him off. “It would require mutual interest. I assure you in the wake of your infidelity and disrespect, it no longer exists, but I thank you for your time.”

“My, my. How impersonal.” The noble stood and brushed nonexistent dust from his coat. The spiteful contempt on his face was evident.  “This is likely for the best. I couldn’t even expect a warm bed with you, you’re such an unfeeling cu—”

“If you are finished, my attendant will show you out.” Aymeric ignored his comment, and calmly returned to his tea to hide the sting of the insult.

After a few moments made more tense by the sound of silence pierced only with angry, labored breathing of his ex-lover and the faint clinking of Aymeric setting his own teacup on its saucer, the hard, rapid thumping of the nobleman’s shoes against carpet punctuated Aymeric’s loneliness, and capped it off entirely with the slam of the heavy oak door.

“Remind me why you put up with him so long, again?” Estinien groused into his ale later that evening, once the knights on the midday shift had made for the Forgotten Knight the moment muster was over. 

Aymeric lacked an answer that would satisfy either of them, and avoided replying by way of a heavy pull from his own flagon. Estinien leaned back heavily enough that his chainmail rattled against the back of the chair when he connected with it, a huff escaping him when he realized an answer was not forthcoming.

“I’m still going to break his fucking legs.” The lancer groused.

“Now, now, much as he is undeserving of his kneecaps, assault would only make more trouble for our friend!” Haurchefant piped up as he flagged a waitress down to order another round.

Though it more or less quieted the griping of their friend, it didn’t entirely silence the grumbling. Aymeric was unsure of whether to feel touched or concerned for how much they— Estinien in particular— cared. Still, flanked by his friends at the table as he was, it helped to feel less alone, and eased the heartache, if only a bit.

“Regardless of your penchant for violence against those who seek to use me,” Aymeric sighed and set his flagon down. “It means much that I am yet in good company.”

“That does bring up your unfortunate track record, my friend.” Haurchefant mused, and just this once, his expression was serious, troubled. “Though your courtships have been few...they have not particularly ended well, have they?”

“That is putting it mildly.” Estinien snorted. 

“Oh, must we?” Aymeric groaned, and swiped a hand down his face. When Estinien opened his mouth to reply, he instead continued, “I am aware that my relationships have hitherto ended...poorly. Spectacularly so. And I have been subjected to mistreatment in each-” he ran a hand through his bangs. “-I ended them all the moment I realized I was being used, being hurt. I know what it is to be loved, and I know what courtesy and respect I deserve, as a person.”

“Really, that’s the best anyone can do. Pray do not take our concerns as criticism of you—” Haurchefant tried to reassure him.

“Speak for yourself.” Estinien muttered into his ale. “I think him a fool.”

Haurchefant kicked Estinien’s shin under the table hard enough to make the lancer choke on his drink. As he dissolved into a coughing fit, Haurchefant continued as though he had never been interrupted, “We aren’t here to criticize, and most certainly should not do so. We only worry because we care. This is most assuredly naught more than a string of bad luck—”

“I would take it as a providential warning at this point.” Aymeric muttered into his ale before he drained his flagon and set it aside. 

After thanking the waitress for bringing them another round and tipping her for the trouble, he spoke up again, hesitant. “I think...I should just stop looking. Focus on the good things and the good people I already have in my life. For mine own sake.”

Haurchefant looked aghast at the suggestion— for how could he play matchmaker anymore if that was the way of it— but when he opened his mouth to interject, Estinien returned that kick to the shin with a hard heel to the ankle. 

Ignoring Haurchefant’s yowling, and the jostling of the table by his jolting in his seat, Estinien picked up his flagon and replied, “If that’s what it takes for you to not get hurt, then do so. Halone knows the both of you—” he gestured at Aymeric and Haurchefant with the hand still holding his ale, “—have little but your looks going for you.”

“Arse.” Aymeric and Haurchefant groused in unison.

“I mean it— the only thing Ishgard cares less about than the poor are the bastards. Anything you have that others would kill for? It makes you the exception to the rule. It makes you a target.” Estinien pressed, his expression serious. “So do what you must to be safe.”

A heavy weight hung over them, oppressive enough they all curled into their cups a little, falling quiet. Aymeric knew that his friend was right— knew that loneliness was preferable to being made to feel alone, and even before that silence was shattered, had already begun to lay the groundwork for those walls he would need to raise around his heart.

“You are right, and the contradiction between Ishgardian politics and my upbringing is the crux of the issue, I suppose.” He finally admitted softly. When Haurchefant sprang up to try and insist differently, he continued, “I know what it is to be loved, and what love and respect I would deserve from and to give my partner. I know that I deserve that, as a person, and I will settle for naught less. If that condemns me to be alone, then so be it.”

“Aymeric, my friend…” Haurchefant sounded sad, but could tell he knew not how to change his friend’s mind. 

Very likely, he could not.

“You need not worry for me.” Aymeric reassured, and for the first time in what felt like years, his smile felt genuine. “‘Tis as I said: I have known love from my parents— Halone rest their souls— and I—”

He hesitated a moment, and lowered his suddenly timid gaze to the frothy head of his ale. Thinking on the comfort that these two men had offered him, had continued to offer him and help support him with, even if he understood that neither of them romantically loved him— or at least, if they did, not deep enough to make it a courtship— he scrounged up enough bravery to admit to his own observations.

“And I continue to know love with the both of you. So ‘tis not all bad. I do not need a courtship to know happiness.”

“...We aren’t here to use you and toss you aside.” Estinien said suddenly, voice uncharacteristically soft. When Aymeric looked up at him, it was Estinien’s turn to stare into his half drank flagon of ale. “Neither of us can offer you that, but...but what we have offered, we’ve done it because we want to.”

“Because we do love you.” Haurchefant said with a nod. 

Estinien said nothing— though his lack of correction was noted, and what mattered.

“If tonight has proven anything, I hope it has proven that if I thought otherwise, I would not be here with you.” Aymeric reassured, and resumed drinking.

Though they did not speak of it again, their mood lifted significantly after that.

The trio, true to their words, had continued to give that warmth and comfort in what ways they could, in what capacity they had, though as their careers pulled them ever further apart, it became easier to forget what that sort of love looked like, until Aymeric couldn’t recall the last time they had been able to make the time for any of it at all. Not for years. Duty and schedules and stations had pulled them apart physically, though letters helped to bridge that distance. Aymeric had learned to make that enough. It was enough. He was happy.

Which was why, once the Warrior of Light had been welcomed as a friend to the three of them, he had thought nothing of stopping to speak with her following a chance encounter in the Pillars. That Haurchefant and Estinien had hung a few paces did not strike Aymeric as odd. As a flower after a dark knight, Aymeric bent toward her radiance.

“I’m so glad I ran into you!” Serella said brightly, and produced a book. “Here— I’m on my way out of the city, but I found it!”

“Found—?” Aymeric had a book suddenly pressed against his chest with a light thmp before he could ask.

Taking the book from her, and forcing himself to tear his gaze from the bright, excited smile she gave him, he glanced down at the book in his hands. When he realized it was the book he’d been meaning to pick up but could not track down a copy of, he gasped in shocked joy.

“How on earth did you manage to find one in the city?” He asked excitedly, already looking back up at her with what he hoped was a socially acceptable level of happiness.

“Oh, I didn’t. Gridania had a copy, though, in one of their bookstores.” She shrugged. “I was there on business, but when I saw it, I thought of you. Wanted to make sure you got to read it.”

“Why? I recall you misliked this series.” Aymeric lamented, even though his elation. 

“Sure, but I remembered how much you liked it.” She explained like it was obvious why she would go out of her way.

“What do I owe you?” He asked suddenly. At the confused expression and tilt of her head, he elaborated, “For the book? What do I owe you?”

Once she realized he was serious, she gave him a wince of a smile. Aymeric couldn’t help but wonder why there was a strange sort of sympathy in that smile.

“Enjoy it, and we’ll be square.” Serella reassured him.

“But what if he does not?” Haurchefant asked, all dramaticism and sweeping, gesticulating arms that managed to arrange themselves with a hand on his hip and an arm slung over her shoulder. “How ever shall he repay you?”

“Well, he needn’t at all. It misses the point of a gift!” She laughed brightly. “But if it would ease the Lord Commander’s guilt…” 

When she looked back at Aymeric, he swore his heart skipped at the playful twinkle found within her eyes. Had Haurchefant also been looking at her with what he could generously describe as a, “scheming bastard’s grin,” he might have forgotten what was being discussed at all in favor of watching her.

“A cup of tea in good company will do.” Serella finished her answer, and her smile widened ever so slightly.

It felt suddenly and unseasonably warm in the courtyard.

The spell was broken and he felt cold again at Hyana’s call from the foot of the stairs leading down to Foundation, as it tore her gaze from him. 

“Alright,” she called back, and threw the three of them another wincing, apologetic smile. “Forgive me, but duty calls.”

“As ever.” Estinien snorted. “Need you assistance?”

“We shouldn’t, thankfully, though rest assured I will contact you if that changes.”

Estinien gave a grunt and nodded, satisfied. 

She looked at Aymeric one last time, as if she wanted to say something else, but then her gaze darted between the three men, she nodded once, and with a simple, “Be well,” she was off down the stairs again.

Aymeric looked down at the book in his hands, and opened it to the first page— nearly letting the pressed lily there flutter away in the breeze for how unexpected it was. He managed to pin it down: a pale blue center with white petals— Halone’s Grace. A flower of immense sentiment to him. She remembered he’d mentioned that, too.

“I have yet to read it,” He called out before he could stop himself. When he turned to face her again, she had paused on the steps, pivoted to face him. “But if assures your return, I regret to inform you ‘tis awful.”

After the momentary shock morphed into another of those dazzling smiles of hers, she called back, “A cup of tea in good company, then, upon my return!”

It had not registered that he had been grinning, ears perked up, as he watched her go until he realized Haurchefant was watching him. He averted his eyes from both Estinien and the damnably observant knight. He cleared his throat behind his hand ears pinned back in humiliation.

“Well, well.” Estinien was the first to speak. “She seems…”

“Shut—”

“Nice.” Haurchefant finished the sentence for him, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

Aymeric hoped the flush that pooled to the tips of his ears would be attributed to the spiteful glare he threw at his friends and not the way his heart fluttered in his chest. Hoped, but was ultimately a realist.

[earnestly-endlessly]

Do you mind doing a list of your favourite modern AUs? A mix is powered and non-powered fics is okay :) TY!

I'm so sorry how late I am with this, but here’s my looooong list of my favourite modern AUs. I hope that you like this list and can find some fics in there that you haven’t read before. Enjoy!

*******

Cherik Modern AU Fic Recs 

Sprich Mit Mir | Talk To Me – dreamweavers

Summary: When Charles meets Erik on a midnight train to London, it’s like all of his Christmases and birthdays have come at once – until Erik opens his mouth, and reveals he cannot speak a word of English.

It isn’t easy to pursue a relationship with someone you need to play Pictionary with just to chat to, but with a little help from Charles’ telepathy, the two language-barrier lovers are determined to make it work.

Come as you are – scarlettblush

Summary: Hospital AU. The one where Charles unknowingly woos a coma patient with Pride and Prejudice. Years later, they meet again.

The Man on the Train – Sophia_Bee

Summary: Charles is heading home from a shift at the busy emergency department of the urban hospital where he works as a nurse. He meets Dr. Erik Lehnsherr on the train, who is clearly interested in Charles, but Charles has a rule. He does not date doctors. Not at all. Never, ever ever. But he does shake his ass at Erik, which might be his downfall.

Eyes on Fire – Black_Betty

Summary: Every once in a while, fashion tycoon Emma Frost invites her favourite male models over to entertain her. And by "entertain", I mean she makes them have kinky consensual sex in front of her....Emma never touches herself when she watches, but she always has a glass of wine with her. Emma likes it best when they eventually forget that she's watching.

Charles and Erik meet each other through Emma...

(I've taken some liberties with the prompt, but all the sex is still there, and it's wholly consensual...and gradually, becomes more than just sex...)

Paper Monsters – Clocks

Summary: Fill for this prompt: Charles meets Erik Lehnsherr, his favorite novelist of all time at a coffee shop, but doesn't know it's him, and Erik just criticizes his own writing in front of his biggest fan.

Order Up - ikeracity

Summary: Charles has a terrible habit of multitasking, and that is probably why he absentmindedly tells the pizza man that he loves him when hanging up. Then the pizza man says it back. And Charles is pretty much smitten from there.

Some Things Are Meant To Be – Ikeracity

Summary: Erik is a famous singer. Charles is a closeted fan. When Raven drags him to Erik's concert, the last thing Charles expects is for Erik to single him out of the crowd, for Erik to look right at him as he sings. And the last, last thing he expects is for Erik to personally serenade him and pull him on stage and kiss him senseless, because some things are meant to be and Erik knows it.

Rumor Mill – Ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends. So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Serendipity – humanveil

Summary: Charles sends a text to the wrong number.

[10:22 AM]

Can we meet for coffee? I just got dumped.

[10:30 AM]

I think you've got the wrong number.

[10:31 AM]

Unless you make a habit of texting people you don't know about this sort of thing?

A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

Frosted Hearts – aesc, palalife

Summary: Emma Frost has 99 problems, but a date ain't one. Specifically, she has no time to play the dating game--which is fine with her, because she'd much rather run it instead. From a set of sleek, silver and white offices on Fifth Avenue and with her trusty, stylish, and silent partner Janos Quested, Emma has built Frosted Hearts into New York City's premiere dating service, built on the principle that money, and a sufficiently rigorous psionic scan, can, in fact, buy you love.

Somewhere in Frosted Hearts's server is one Charles Xavier, genius and geneticist, with the kind of nicely-starched good looks that sell well on brochures for New England prep schools. He's also a telepath who's decided to give up pursuing serious relationships and instead spend his thirties doing what he should have done as a teenager: have a lot of sex with random people. Fortunately for him, Erik Lehnsherr, metallokinetic and engineering executive, has absolutely no time in his heart or his schedule for anything more serious than... well, absolutely nothing romantic at all.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: As teens, Charles was the star of a super popular tween/teen television show and Erik was his best friend. As adults, they're a frighteningly domestic married couple and Alex, Darwin, and Sean are Erik's nosy co-workers.

Impulse Decisions – listerinezero

Summary: Erik wakes up in Las Vegas with a hell of a hangover, a telepath in his bed, and a ring on his finger. Now what?

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

The Proper Care of Actors – afrocurl, Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

Curve Fitting – kianspo

Summary: The weird thing is, Charles always introduces Raven as his sister, but he never calls Erik his brother. Erik would be bothered, except he prefers not to think of Charles as his brother, either. He can’t figure it out for four years, and then suddenly he can.

Or. A non-powered AU in which Sharon Xavier never remarries, and Charles 'adopts' not only Raven, but Erik too.

Right Person, Wrong Time – PoppyX

Summary: "TL;DR Charles is an insecure high school student who loses his virginity to the right person at the wrong time, and Erik makes it up to him in a romantic manner."

Favorite Mistake by endingthemes

Summary: Charles Xavier doesn’t think anything of it when he sneaks out without even saying goodbye to his latest one-night stand. What he doesn’t expect is to walk into his new position in the Xavier Industries marketing department and find that his latest hook-up is now his new boss.

I ♥ NY (It’s My Friends I’m Not Sure Of) by oddegg

Summary: For a 1stclass-kink meme promp: Erik is a single, successful man who likes quick sex with no strings attached. Then, he meets college professor Charles and it's love at first sight, at least for him. Charles, who heard of Erik's notorious ways, wants nothing to do with him besides being friends. Cue Erik bending over backwards to steal Charles' heart.

From Westminster With Love - thehoyden

Summary: NATO intelligence says there’s an omega-class telepath who sleeps under Westminster. Major Erik Lehnsherr is about to find out the truth for himself.

Accidentally Welcome to the Rest of Your Lives by kianspo

Summary: Non-powered college AU. Erik and Charles have nothing in common until they end up having sex at someone's party. They don't have much in common after that, either, but find each other a hard habit to quit.

irreconcilable differences (make for surprisingly good bedfellows) – pocky_slash

Summary: Tonight on The Evening Report with Malcolm Stevens, noted geneticist and mutant equality proponent Dr. Charles Xavier faces off with the infamous mutant rights activist Magneto in a live televised debate over the Genetic Nondiscrimination Act.

(At least, if they can stop flirting long enough to stay on topic.)

Mutually Beneficial Transaction – Pookaseraph

Summary: In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn't know exactly what to expect from it, but when he's contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Made To Be Broken - Yahtzee

Summary: Charles makes a New Year's Resolution: “No more straight men,” Charles repeated as he began scrolling through the apartment directory for Emma’s name. “No more futility. No more pointless hoping and heartbreak. In 2013, I never want to hear the words ‘exception,’ ‘experimenting’ or ‘phase.’ If, God forbid, I hear ‘bicurious’ even once, I may take a hostage.”

Then he goes into the party, and Erik is there.

Anarchy In The U.K. – Yahtzee

Summary: "Good God, Erik thought. The Prince of Wales is gay."

Charles lives in the unceasing glare of the public spotlight, yet keeps his sexual orientation a closely held secret, afraid he could lose his throne and force his deeply troubled younger sister into a role that would crush her. Erik, journalist and world traveler, has been a loner most of his life; he has little patience for closet cases. But a chance meeting in Kenya brings these two opposites together and sets in motion a love affair that will challenge the British monarchy -- and their most deeply held beliefs about who they are, and who they should be.

An Ideal Grace – afrocurl

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.

An absence which could not be more there – aesc

Summary: He prepared to shift another half-step over to the Current Events section (which would, of course, enrage him) when the teaser positioned by the model's left elbow caught his eye: DATING WHILE TELEPATHIC: WHY I DON'T DO IT.

rooms/shares – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik is single, working a cube job he hates, letting his master's degree in mutant studies collect dust, and living on his best friend's couch. When she kicks him out, he's forced to trawl Craigslist for the least-offensive rooming option within his meagre budget. He never expects a response from the persnickety, high maintenance ad he replies to as a joke, but it's possible this too-nice apartment and mysteriously absent roommate might be the answer to all four of his problems.

Heli Cases –Black_Betty

Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.

It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.

(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

Simple and Uncomplicated – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik's visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.

Guilty by Association – Regann

Summary: While investigating the homicide of a John Doe who he suspects might've been murdered while working the streets as a prostitute, Detective Erik Lehnsherr finds an unexpected ally in a hooker named Charles who seems as determined as he to solve the case. As they become more deeply involved both with the case and each other, there's just one thing that Charles neglects to mention -- that he's really an investigative journalist, one quickly convinced that what they're dealing with is more than simple murder. cop!Erik, fake-hooker-slash-reporter!Charles, Modern AU.

This Is Not Comedy – baehj2915

Summary: Written for amarriageoftrueminds' prompt for a Cherik version of Louis CK's tangent about the fuckability of Ewan McGregor.

Naturally the similarities end there. I made this about Erik's full on public lust-filled gay revelation, and the chaos that spirals from there.

Politico – cygnaut

Summary: Modern Genosha Politics AU. In which Erik is l'enfant terrible of the mutant National Assembly, and his staff just wants to get him laid.

Conspiracy of Kisses –  Alaceron

Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.

The Pretender – Clocks

Summary: Charles is sick of having his best friend Erik drop to one knee and fake-propose to him in restaurants, just to score a free dessert. He doesn’t know which is worse: the complete embarrassment, or the likelihood that Erik doesn’t mean a word of it.

Bound – FuryRed

Summary: Is there anything worse than someone else’s wedding? Well, perhaps your sister’s wedding- where the groom just has to invite his boss and that man just happens to be your ex-boyfriend; a person you had an extremely passionate and tumultuous relationship with that ended badly.

Charles hadn’t seen Erik for a year by the time Raven had told him about the wedding. He wasn’t looking forward to the occasion, particularly when Raven explained that they would be celebrating the event with a two-week extravaganza at a luxury hotel, meaning that Charles would be forced to spend a whole fortnight with the man who he’d given everything to; the man who had ultimately broken his heart…

Lonesome On the Shelf – ikeracity

Summary: After three years of marriage, Charles has to admit that his relationship with Erik has significantly cooled off. These days, they're barely ever home at the same time and it seems like every conversation they have turns into an argument. Charles misses the way they used to be, misses the spontaneous dinner parties and the surprise morning sex and the wake up calls in the early mornings to catch the sunrise. But it's going to take two of them to fix this marriage, and some days, it seems as if all Erik wants is to be rid of him.

A fic about rekindling marriage.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby.

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

Dress Your Family in Plaid and Skinny Jeans – cygnaut

Summary: Erik and Charles meet at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle and they instantly hit it off. And so do their kids, Lorna and David.

Continue firm and constant – aesc

Summary: Moira hasn't seen her old partner in saving the world from threats human and intergalactic, Erik Lehnsherr, for a few years. When she finally does see him again, she finds a man different from the one who's been with her down in the dark and the dirt and the blood... or maybe he isn't so different after all.

cradles you and connects you to everything – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles and Erik spend a chilly November afternoon in Manhattan doing not much at all. Also, there are cupcakes, chess, and Feelings.

[namjoonchronicles]

perfectly wrong | jm

↳ genre fluff, domestic, friends-to-lover, dad-to-be jimin

↳ words 3k

↳ summary --Giving birth is a spiritual moment for any married couple. But things are not usually cinematic or fulfilling in real life are they? Especially for a love story that begins like this...

↳ warning horrible description of labor, use of vulgar words in public setting, car sex, platonic friendship that progresses to something more, cute things to do with Jimin at home (that you can’t irl), alcoholism

↳ namjoonchronicles’ honorary tag list @kai-tashi @joon94net @yourlocalalien @mentallycryinghanriver @septemberalien @yoongiseesaw 

↳ special thanks to @fangirlaholicxx & @/majestikblue for helping me out on this one! 

↳ song lsd ‘no new friends’ 

Nothing could have prepared Jimin for the chaos a labor room could possess. He couldn't feel his hands; his mind and heart had gone separate ways. Sweat trickling down his back and he's sure that his shirt is drenched by now. His lips are blue and his wife was gripping his fingers to the point where they all turned purple. Her shrills threw his sanity out of the window and he had probably pissed his pants by now. He realized he wore different sandals on each leg and his shirt is inside out.

"This is all your fault!" you screamed, the pain is unbearable and you've grab hold Jimin's hair in the midst of labor. "Push, madam, you have to keep pushing..." the young doctor calmly instructed you, ignoring the fact that Jimin is screaming in pain. "Let go of my hair, let go of my hair...honey, my hair," Jimin whimpers but you aren't about to listen to him, not when the pain of the contraction was ripping through your being is all you feel.

Labor feels like a helicopter going through your nostril with it's propellers still spinning. To add to the misery, contractions leading to labor is best described as all the menstrual pain you've had since puberty till now, coming all at once. Yes.

"I learnt today that putting it in isn't as easy as pushing it out..." Jimin blinked rapidly. "Fucking hell Park Jimin!" you grouched, inhaling air through your teeth, biting your lower lip. "No cursing in the labor room please..." the nurse warns. "The baby isn't out yet for us to watch our words..." Jimin dashed.

"I see the head! I see the head, keep pushing... madam," the doctor glanced sharply at Jimin, "Sir, your role is to motivate your wife..."

Motivate your wife... Motivate your wife. The doctor's words repeated in his head.

Dear readers, you must be wondering why Jimin is so dense and appears to be out of character. Easy, Jimin is out of character. You see, his wife and him weren't lovers at all. They're friends. Best friends. And it all began on a rainy night on a rundown one room studio apartment Jimin owned.

He was having a partner in his living room, serving her cold drinks. He wasn't at all invested in their 3 days rendezvous, he just didn't want to spend the night alone. Sipping cold beer on a hot night with a decent girl felt enough for him. Jimin didn't want to fret all night wondering what you're doing. After informing him you had a blind date, you pretty much didn't speak much. You had been acting strange the last few days, not returning his calls or texts, and like common extroverted Libras,  he searched people who would. He has many other friends, he convinced himself. His plan was simple, half-way through the movie, he'll have his way with the girl, take it to the bed and make love til morning comes. He checks his phone, just in case. No new notifications.

0 message(s). 0 missed call(s).

But halfway through the movies, while she's sneaking her hands underneath the elastic bands of his Calvin Klein briefs, he felt wrong. So he told her to leave. He didn't know why, and she looks upset but he couldn't bare a half-hearted fucking, not tonight. It was unusual for him to feel that way. Jimin is alone, resuming the movie and crumpled the aluminium can with his bare hand before tossing it to his trash can.

To soothe the rejection he placed on himself, Jimin draws the curtains, so he could have a little more privacy. On his way doing so, he realized it had just started raining. With violent thunder rolls and flickering lightnings in the night sky, he saw a taxi by the streets he live on just exiting. Thinking nothing of it, he draws the curtain anyways.

Standing in the rain, hair plastered on your face, no umbrellas, drenched blouse. Makeup running down your face, smeared lipstick, cheap eye liner tainting your cheeks, pooling at your chin. Shivering cold. Puffs of air escaping your mouth. Your quivering lips, shaking hands and racing thoughts seems to find an odd calm when you stare at the entrance of Jimin's apartment. When taxi driver asked you where you were going, you blurted this very place. Of all places you could go, your mind took you here. Must have been out of habit, must have been out of your mind, or must have been your unconsciousness taking over. Must have been something in your head, to think that this place was the safest.

It was odd.

When you brought your feet on Jimin's stupidly psychedelic doormat, and raised your knuckle to knock, it was almost effortless. In your most unpolished condition, in your fragile strength and most bare, you brought yourself to Jimin. He swung the door open with a confused expression on his face. You lift your head, eyes spilling tears on each side, quivering lips that stretches to a broken smile with your last bits of strong.

"You went to the blind date, what are you doing here? What happened?" Jimin asked.

You dropped your head at once, gave it a half-shake, shrugging, "Can't you tell?"

Your smile breaks and the tears spills uncontrollably, so you brought the heel of your hand to your head and shook your head again. Witnessing this, Jimin begins to take his arms off his cardigan and wrap them around you before giving you a hug. His hand slid down the back of your head, thumbing your wet hair. His eyes is wide like he  still couldn't process what was happening. But he did what he had to.

He took you into his bathroom, give you a little privacy to undress. Sniffling, nose reddening. Turning so you face his back, he hands you his T-shirt and trade them with your wet clothes without looking at you. Warm towel, you climbed into the tub and turned the showers on. He doesn't have a shower curtain because he's used to living alone. And the door to the bathroom was uninstalled because he sold it to get a coffee machine. He lives alone, he doesn't need that much privacy. Until today, that is. Not wanting to fight with you like always, he took your wet clothes to the laundry room located across the hall. He throws them into the machine one-by-one.

Black panties. Blouse. Jeans. "B-cup, black. Hmm, quite nice," he tilt his head, thumbing the insides of your bra with an impressed face, nodding at the new fact he found out of you.

"Jimin, you have convenient store panties, don't you? I bought one of  your night stands, a pack, I'm sure..." you raised your voice, kneeling by his messy bed, drawing the bottom drawers out. First thing you saw is packs of unused condoms, you used the tip of your fingers to find your way to the said panties. "Yeah, it's in the bottom drawer with many condoms," he leisurely stride back to the space he intended as bedroom.

You slide one of them on and walked out with no pants since the t-shirt Jimin gave you was long enough to cover your thighs. Jimin came in with a hairdryer. He has you seated on the floor, his knees next to your shoulders. "Your shampoo smells nice, what is it?" You asked him, not wanting to start the story to the disastrous date just yet. Jimin is great at playing along when it comes to that. You've been friends long enough to understand the boundaries. And one of that is to not ask more than what is told.

"Sakura flower extract, $14.00 on the website, plus deliveries," Jimin continues to dry your hair, lips pouting at the frail look of your hair. His fingers are entangled with fallen hair but he didn't complaint. Because he knows that you knew. You weren't exactly healthy these past few years. "Jimin," you gently called. And he hums back as a reply.

"Is there something wrong with me?" you picked your toenails, hugging your knees and heard the hair dryer turned off. "I think there's something wrong with me, no, I know there's something wrong with me," you added, convinced that you're either cursed or under qualified. Jimin is a romantic, he is. He is almost always prepared to nurture your broken heart with his sweet words, but with you, it never seems to be enough. That's why you guys are just friends. As the years passed, your irreconcilable  differences, your bickering, your  stubbornness just annoys him. And put two people with praise kinks together, it's a recipe for disaster.

Although Jimin is a fucktard when you first knew him, he proves to be a great listener, attentive and full of affection. And by fucktard you meant, he was too shallow for your stupid deep heart. But you find yourself in his bed, waiting for your jeans to dry. Next to him. Giggling, laughing with your eyes up his ceiling.

"You ever wonder if all of our friends' marriages are in shambles, but they try so hard to keep it a secret...?" Jimin chuckles, resting his head on his wrist, while laying on his back. "I secretly hope it is. I'm sick of saying, Congratulations on your Wedding, attending their weddings with rabid food and lying to their face saying it's delicious when it's not, just to make them feel better," you rested both hands on your stomach, feet dangling on the edge.

"No one asked you to come," Jimin sneered. "Their invitation arrives to my house," you darted. "Then come up with a lame excuse!" "I'm not a shit like you."

"Trust me, you'll live better if you just don't give a fuck," Jimin threw an advice out of nowhere. "If I do that, I won't have friends and be stuck with you," you rolled your eyes up.

And that's when it hits you.

"No new friends," you whispered. "We don't need new friends," Jimin lifts his body from the bed and waddled to the laundry room.

Staying in his room alone felt weird so you followed him. "Yeah, but they're all married and covered with baby puke. New friends sounds good," you caught the jeans he threw you and walked past you, brushing shoulder, his bangs poking his brows at every step.

"Get dressed," he shot. "Oh no I'm not drinking. The last time I went with you, I almost died," you whined, trailing him out to the living room, "I don't have clothes."

Jimin yank open his closet and took the last hoodie, still wrapped in plastic. The one he intend to give you on new years, but you're a country away. So you never knew. Behind him, you were jumping in your jeans. He throws the hoodie over your head. He took his black leather jacket and black baseball cap to pair his white shirt and damaged jeans.

"Stop throwing things at me!" You roared, "Whose are these?!" "Someone left it behind my house," Jimin lied. "It looks basically new," you huffed while poking your head through the neck hole.

You don't know where you're going but Jimin made it clear to have you worrying only about the music in the car and not the destination. First, you stopped at McDonald's drive through to get burgers. Then he killed the engine and had the burgers and soda on the hood of the car. He starts trash talking about his coworkers and mimicking the way one of your mutual friends talked, making you laugh. Then he impersonates a corrupted cop badly who asked him for money because Jimin didn't turn his headlights on.

"It sounds like the way you impersonated Namjoon, to be honest," you shove a handful fries into his mouth to shut him up. "Namjoon is such a cool dude, it annoys the fuck out of me," Jimin spoke through mouthful of unprocessed cholesterol.

Jimin did the chicken dance for you to show one of his encounters at the club. There's literally no one else on the parking lot, but the space is still wet from the rain. The only light is coming from the huge McDonald sign. Next, he brought you to part of town where the park was empty.  Balancing yourself on the bleachers, arms spread wide, you guys were talking about the relevance of Spiderman movie doing a remake. It begins with,

"Spiderman, Tom Holland or Tobey Maguire?" Jimin asked. "How dare you make me choose... I haven't watched any with Tom so, Tobey Maguire," you answered. Jimin clutched his chest and made a bad impersonation of Tobey crying. "Stop, OMG! It wasn't that ugly!" you jumped off the bleacher and pushed him.. Jimin stumbles, hopping on one leg and giggling. "Are you serious? You should watch both. Tom does acrobats," Jimin added. "I'm not a fan of Spiderman..."

Jimin eyed you up and down, "You watched Inside Out at 22, crying in the cinema who are you fucking with." "Don't take my Disney Pixar movies in this Marvel argument you shallow fuck," you shoved both hands into your hoodie front pocket, shaking your head, looking ahead.

"That's a new space," Jimin pointed. "The skateboard place?" you passed, "It's been there forever." "Really? I want to go see," Jimin picks up his pace and begin jogging to it. You had no choice but to go after him.

It's littered. Jimin changed his mind. You pointed at the swing.

Metal rattling, your feet barely touching the ground. The chains creaking, rusting at the ends. Jimin is behind you. "You ready?"

"Yup, push!" you smiled ear to ear. "Here goes," Jimin warned.

For that brief moment in life, you felt content. A childlike memory comes back to life and you have Jimin here. Someone you would have never expected to be here. Looking up at the moon, where the dark clouds have cleared, the stars seems to double in number in this forsaken city, the longer you watched. The speed dies and Jimin sat on the swing next to you. His knees spread, elbows rested on the kneecaps, chewing mints.

"For someone driven by goals, our life are pretty fucked don't you think?" Jimin starts, and you almost dropped to hear something so sentimental coming from the flightiest man you've ever met in your life. "We planned everything so concisely, and in a timely manner. But love doesn't come as planned, and you're stuck living life aimlessly," Jimin blew hot air to the ground. "At least you're fucking people and is good looking," you popped the lollipop out when you talk, and then pop them back in, "I have five dates over the course of five years and never got a call back. The sixth one I went to a few hours ago, said I was too ambitious. I remember his face when he told me that I was going to be single forever with that blunt attitude of mine."

"Then you should have shoved a fork in his ass," Jimin straightens up, holding the chains that hangs the swing before twisting them to face you. "I did, I did so until his eyes reddened and ran out the restaurant and into the taxi. What happens after that is  a blank, Then I was at your apartment. Felt like it was the only safe place I have."

Long pause.

"He was my last chance at love, and he proved me that I was unlovable. Because I was being me. But what else would I have become Jimin? I don't know how to be anyone else but me," your voice cracks but forced out a smile. Always forcing out a smile. Always wanting to appear strong. Always with that fragile strength.

Jimin took you to an outdoor cinema. One of Audrey Hepburn's movie was playing. Both of you took the seat in the back of the car, and lowering the front seats down so you could see better. When Frank Sinatra begins to fall for Audrey Hepburn, and they got into an argument that results in a heated kiss, you felt Jimin's lips on your clothed shoulder. Saliva pools in your mouth and you gulped nervously. Struggling to focus at the lines the spectacular actors are throwing, your mind starts buzzing, as Jimin boldly tugged your hoodie from covering your head, gently. He motions closer and you felt yourself, freeze and holding still. He didn't stop there, with the hoodie no longer covering your neck, Jimin brushes his lips while inhaling your scent. He exhales shakily, like he is letting his lust feeding into it's desire but still staying exceptionally respectful.

You brought your hand to rest on his knee, sliding up his thigh. He nuzzles his face close to your nape, looking up at you with his doe eyes, silently asking permission. Rubbing your cheeks on his, he took them as a yes. With it, he presses his plump lips onto your neck, giving it a gentle suckle before trailing kisses along your jaws. Easily, he lifts your hip so you could straddle his lap, sitting directly on his clothed hard-on.  He nibbles your lower lip, teasingly. Smiling into the kiss, and whispering hotly against your lips, "You can grind on me, it's okay."

Within the next 30 minutes, when the movie shows the credits, a guard came over to hover his flashlight to the heavily fogged window of Jimin's car. "You have to leave, we need to lock the place down," he said. Shirtless, Jimin wind down the window just enough to reply, "Okay, sir." Jimin climbs to the driver's seat and drove back home. "I need new panties, it's soiled," you hummed from the backseat.

"Yeah, you need to get dressed," Jimin puts on his shirt in a hurry and kick his jeans on. "You're a pretty good kisser," you commented. "Pretty--you mean excellent," Jimin sounded offended as he drives hastily through the empty street. "It was pretty good," you corrected him.

"It was a tight space, I could do better than that, you'll see," Jimin scoffed.

Jimin pushes you on his bed the moment he arrives to his apartment. "This time, we're doing it properly," he ran his tongue along his lips.

Fast forward a few years later, after finding no new friends and stuck together, sex as  a bonding time, you finally decide that maybe you had found a fabricated version of a soulmate and it had been Jimin all along. You were too stubborn to admit and he was too afraid to show his softer side. This relationship is not perfect, and he might never fit your ideals, but neither do you, so why not give it a try? And if it wasn't meant to be, then why does the sex felt so good?

Frustrations, deceptions, the voices shouting, the breaking plates. Even though your entire existence could split his brains in half, he couldn't bring himself to leave. It's crazy. When you both are skin to skin, everything wrong you did that day felt like dust. Cold shoulders, brief words. He is just full of life and having many casual friends and you're a homebody who prefers to read a book while he's out for drinks. He comes home late and you're in bed early. The differences strikes ordeal sometimes. Sometimes he's not even open for discussion. He lashes at the first sign of difficulty and storms when the expectation isn't reached. He has quite a temper, but so do you.

Park Jimin is a hot head. But when he's jealous, he doesn't hide.

"Who was that man?" "Not you." "Did you wish  he's here instead of me?" "Sometimes I do. I don't love him, but he's there and you weren't."

"I told you I was coming home..." "I waited for 3 hours. You were just 20 minutes away! Where did you go?"

Jimin pushes his bangs back and walked away to open the fridge and slammed the door. Sending everything inside rattling against itself. He snaps the beer can open in front of you and downed them in a few gulps, crumples the empty can with his bare hand and tossing them into the sink.

"Drinking, like I told you," Jimin arched his eyebrow at you, mocking. "Don't come near the bed, you reek of alcohol," you shouted.

But it isn't always like that. Sometimes Jimin listens. Sometimes he is patient enough and everything feels right. He cooks rice, a simple dinner. Help you sort out your dresses for work the next day. He stays home to continue sewing. He's a fashion designer taking orders from home. He wears a full rimmed glasses and would work days without sleep. Passing him a kiss on his cheek, neck and shoulder from behind as he sat on his tailoring table, you'd leave work with coffee he packed for you. Coming home to an empty house is normal.

Like today, Jimin returns after a short jog, to see the rice still in the same amount as he left it. He reveals the table with its food untouched. He saw the bed empty and began ridding his shirt and left his pants on before he opens the door to the bathroom to see you in the tub, relaxing. "Why aren't you eating the food I made?" he asked, accusatively.

"I will, later. I felt like I need to shower first," you hummed, head resting on the brim of the tub, "I had a horrible day... A fucked day." Jimin rids of his pants next before climbing in the tub with you, passing a kiss on your lips, "I need a shower too...and we can cuddle. I'll make you feel good."

It always starts with a cuddle. And now, you're pregnant. In labor, screaming your head off.

"It's a girl..." the nurse hands Jimin the wrapped baby. Jimin was visibly nervous and you've lost all your strength. "Why is it so warm? Why is she so warm?" Jimin stammered. "Jimin, please. Because she came out from me, idiot," you sighed.

Jimin carries the baby awkwardly, unable to process the situation at hand that he is now, written on the baby's identification card, "Baby's Father : Park Jimin."

"You need to be reliable now, you can't run off. This little one is depending on you," you hummed as your husband sat by your bed, holding your hand between his and he beamed before hiding his face behind your intertwined hands. You saw his shoulders shake, his cheeks wet. You thumbed his tears and smiled warmly.

"I want to learn how to be a good father. I have to," he mutters. "I saw the baby shoes you bought and tried to hide; you're halfway there, already," you felt him rise up to lean over and gave you a forehead kiss. His wedding band, your wedding ring; who would have believed two idiots who hated marriage eventually have kids together. All the friends you both roasted always knew you two were roasting them. Now that you're married yourself, you're in for a life long teasing. That idiot Park Jimin was an idiot. But today, he is still an idiot, but an idiot you love.

"That's definitely my lips..." he pointed, "Nine months inside mom. Looks like dad." "You should be thankful I'm strapped to this bed with this IV drops."

This perfectly wrong marriage, might just be perfect for you. Fin.

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copyright © 2019 namjoonchronicles do not repost, leave feedback xoxo

[ghostandblog]

Talking about Movies

FF / AO3

Summary: Bored in the library, Hannah and Barbara play a small game thinking about their friends.

Pairing: Sucy/Akko, Hannah/Amanda, Barbara/Lotte ( all characters are mentioned but not all appear, this is mostly about H&B talking).

Word count: 1,890

“Alright, let’s start with…Diana.”

Hannah’s tone is low, almost like a whisper, despite the library being pretty much empty. She looks at her friend with an inquisitive look.

Barbara rests her hand on her chin, with a concentrated expression as she thinks of their overachieving roommate. She considers her proper body posture, aristocrat upbringing, and the way she always goes for the most complex words at the moment of talking, which Barbara was sure it was a conscious decision on her part. It reminds her of black and white films, stories of powerful yet vulnerable heroes, beautifully designed yet simple dresses, and a sense of elegance that is just absent in most modern movies. With a clear answer on her mind, she looks back at Hannah.

“Diana would be… Classic Hollywood.”

Hannah raises her eyebrow a little bit. “That’s an odd connection.”

“Not at all, it makes perfect sense. Think of her as…Gone with the Wind or Citizen Kane”. Once she figures that her redheaded friend is convinced, she clasps her fingers together with a small smirk. “Alright, my turn. Give me a movie genre for… Amanda.”

Hannah narrows her eyes for a moment. “Amanda…Amanda would be adventure films. Movies that provide an… exciting sense of wonder. Purposely throwing yourself to danger in order to find new experiences, marvelously choreographed action scenes. You know, stories about the discoveries of ancient secrets and hidden treasures that also would lead to the discovery of…new aspects of yourself.” Hannah feels her lips forming a smile, then looks at Barbara’s grinning expression and worries that she may have flattered their american classmate a bit too much. “B-but there would not be, like, anything meaningful in them! always B-rated flicks with zero substance, yeah! That’s Amanda.”

She looks around them, worried that maybe she spoke a little too loud, but finds the library as empty as it was when they came for their now-paused study session. Hoping that her blush isn’t too noticeable, Hannah points at Barbara.

“Your turn now! Constanze?”

Barbara giggles a little bit, this was definitely a no-brainer. “Well duh, science fiction movies!” Giant robots, scientists working on their laboratories creating complex machines. Barbara entertains the idea that the short girl’s birthplace and silent nature is reminiscent of german expressionism cinema, but she knows she may be reaching with that one. “Jasminka?”

Hannah lets out a mocking chuckle. “I dunno. The cooking channel?”. After both share a small laugh, she tries to give a more thoughtful response. “But like, seriously, there is a sort of…warmth in her, you know? Always offering a tiny bit of what she’s eating, always with that calm smile of hers, it kind of reminds me of those feel-good movies that you watch as a kid with your parents, the ones with happy endings no matter what, or no matter how cheesy. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, if you will.”

Barbara nods, not really having anything to add.

Hannah raises her eyebrow again, this time placing a hand under her chin. “Now what would Lotte be?”

Barbara’s mind goes back to the finnish girl and remembers how she got to know her better thanks to their shared interest in Nightfall. She thinks of impossible love stories, star-crossed lovers, and above all, stories of girls that at some point may have been perceived as plain-looking or invisible, but later prove themselves beautifully unique and irreplaceable to the eyes of the previously dismissive hero. Unlike Hannah, she is not ashamed of her blushing face neither tries to hide it. She lets out a sigh before speaking.

“Lotte would be romance. Definitely.”

“Hehe. Of course she would.”

“You now. How about…Kagari?”

Hannah blinks, not really sure what to say at first, then finds a clear answer just by looking at Barbara’s smirk, knowing for sure that she is thinking the same thing as her.

“Comedy!”, they both say almost in unison, covering the giggling with their hands, more like a habit than a genuine attempt at keeping it quiet.

Atsuko Kagari. Always tripping over something, always making a mistake in her potions that resulted in some kind of explosion and her face covered in ashes. It’s like she was born to make every situation around her funny, and her almost negative intellect didn’t help, either. Everything she did was a source of laughs. Comedy certainly suited her alright.

Hannah wipes a small tear from her eye after laughing maybe a little too much, remembering it was her turn to ask.

“Okay Barb, what about creepy Susie?”

“Yeah. What about me?”

The monotone tone of voice is familiar, but the surprise is still there when they turn around and see the figure of a pale girl with long purple hair, her only visible eye looking directly at them with a tired expression, bangs covering the other one.

Hannah tries to stand back almost instinctively, accidentally tripping with one of her feet and falling out of her chair in a very unflattering manner, not unlike the way of the clumsy girl they were laughing at recently.

Barbara remains sitting where she is, petrified, with her hands placed in front of her as if she were trying to stop a sudden attack coming from Sucy. She attempts to keep her cool, but still can feel the sweat on the back of her neck.

Sucy just stands there, her expression unfazed. Is only the slow, uninterested way she blinks that reminds Hannah and Barbara that the girl standing before them is still alive (as far as they know).

“S-sucy! Hannah and I were just, we-” Still doing her best to keep whatever remains of her composure, Barbara hopes that she can get them out of there alive by sweet-talking somehow.

“How long have you been just STANDING there!?” Hannah’s usual temper doesn’t make it easy for Barbara, though.

Sucy just gives her a quick, dismissive glance, before looking directly at Barbara, who is now wishing that her sweating isn’t as noticeable as she thinks it is.

“So? What movie genre I am?”

“Ah! Well, we- uhm, we thought that you, erm, obviously-”

As Barbara attempts to form a coherent lie, Sucy just gets closer to the point that their faces are mere inches to each other, as if to remind her that there would not be a way out of this unless she tells her what she wants to know.

“Answer the question. Which one I am?”

Barbara lets out a loud gulp. She can’t really think of a convincing lie, so she decides to just answer honestly, ready to face the lavender witch’s wrath.

“Horror. I…i was gonna say that you would be a horror movie.”

Her expression doesn’t change for the next seconds that to Barbara, felt like hours. Then a smile seems to form on her lips, just enough to let Barbara know that she was amused by her answer.

“Haha. Neat.”

“Yo, Sucy! Hurry up! I already found the book that Lotte asked us to get!”

Hearing the familiar, loud voice that doesn’t even try to pretend to be in a place meant for silence and studying, the three girls look at the other end of the library, where Akko is waving at them while holding an old, dusty book on her other hand. Sucy looks back at Hannah and Barbara, wearing the same uninterested expression as before.

“Gotta go now”.

Feeling like she dodged a mushroom-shaped bullet, Barbara tries to keep the tiny bit of composedness that she barely had, but lets out a deep breath the very moment Sucy turns back and goes to where Akko is. She keeps looking at their direction, though, if only to make sure that the creepy girl actually leaves and doesn’t have any kind of last card, snake or potion under her sleeve. While hearing them chat as they walk, Barbara can notice, once again, how Sucy’s body language changes just a little bit when walking alongside Akko.

“Hey Suz, what were you doing with Hannah and Barbara just now?”

“Eh. We were just talking.”

“About what?”

As they leave the library, the two blue team members can’t hear their conversation anymore. Hannah, still shaking due to their near-Sucy experience, tries to regain her collectedness and opens her books again without saying anything, willing to forget anything related to the game they were playing to slack off studying. Barbara’s attention is somewhere else, still looking at the door even after the two girls are no longer there.

If Barbara had to be honest, she didn’t particularly care for either of them… even if Lotte was still trying to get her to know them better. But despite her own indifference, she couldn’t deny that there was something…charming in how the weird, creepy, and off-putting girl with lavender hair managed to develop a soft spot for the clumsiest girl in school, and how it was hard to ignore given that she herself managed to notice certain patterns as she was looking for stuff to make fun of them. Back when she still found enjoyment in bullying the three red team members, she considered the idea to tease Sucy about her potential feelings towards her roommate, but even then her own sense of survival knew better than that.

The expression on her face softens up just a tiny bit, enough for Hannah to notice when she turns to talk to her again.

“Did you know, that despite how different and irreconcilable they may seem, the horror and comedy genres have a lot in common? Many film and literally critics agree on that.”

Hannah just looks at her with a confounded expression.

“Huh?”

“If you pay attention, you would notice how many of the most acclaimed horror movies have a little bit of comedy in them. Not even as a foil, mostly as…a small piece that you didn’t know it would be missing. Something that you never thought would fit, but it does amazingly so. Yes, comedy and horror movies can exist on their own and work perfectly fine alone…”, pausing her words for a moment, she looks for her notes scrapped on the table to resume her studies, “…But is only when placed alongside with comedy that the horror genre gets to truly shine to its full potential.”

“What the heck are you going on about now?”

As if taken back from a trance, Barbara blinks a little, then just shrugs.

“I guess I just thought it was interesting.” She says almost instantly forgetting why that particular comparison came to her mind. “What about us though?”

“Ah?”

“Yeah, what movie genre would we be?”

Hannah scratches her head. She considers the options left, even if at this point she is not really interested to keep playing the little game they both made up. “I dunno. Animation?”

Seemingly considering the answer for a moment, Barbara lets out a dismissive laugh while opening one of her books. “Ha! As if.”

“Yeah, you are right. I’m not a big fan of cartoons, in all honesty.” Hannah says as she thinks of repetitive Saturday-morning animated shows, the ones with talking animals wearing funny clothes, stock sound effects, and the same background scene over and over. “Is just stuff for little kids anyway. Like, who has time for that kind of crap?”

A/N:

Hannah and Barbara being named after Hanna-Barbera will never not be funny to me.

Has something like this been done before? at first i wanted to compare the characters to music genres and bands but besides picking Kraftwerk for Constanze i've got nothing. Kinda not very really convinced how this one turned out, but still, i think is better to just publish it instead of letting it accumulate metaphorical dust in my drafts forever lol. I think I also better look for some beta readers for my next fic, i have a couple of other unfinished ideas even if I am not really sure what do…writing-wise? Guess we’ll see.

Amanda being Hannah’s gay awakening is a really cute concept. Is really growing on me!

Still, thank you for reading! Hope you all enjoyed this.

[xmilitisx]

                                          A gentle thought. 

I’ve seen a lot of things going around, both on Tumblr and discord in regards to Jack Morrison’s ex-boyfriend, Vincent. It seems that there’s a theory that Jack’ll hook back up with a newly divorced Vincent after everything is said and done- and it completely dismisses the characterization between the two men.

As well as their shared history and mindset.

I don’t have an issue with Jack having a prior lover, boyfriend, partner. I mean, hell- I’d be more worried if he didn’t. Jack has no interest in Vincent, nor pursuing him romantically at the moment. Hell, if you read the comic- you’d note that all of his focus has turned to finding Gabe, and not being found by Reaper.

Note the distinction.

However, this brings me to the actual break up of Vincent and Jack. We’re given very little information, only that the relationship didn’t work out. They didn’t have a family, and that Vincent is still married.

 (Meaning, Jack’s been keeping tabs on people he cares about, as evidenced once again- by his obsession with hunting down Reaper.)

My thing is, and this is my thought- so please don’t take this as something to bite at me about: is that Jack and Vincent were doomed from the start. Jack met Vincent during the war, possibly before. There is a massive switch in mindsets when you go from civilian to military- and there are spouses that simply do not work out because of the distance between people, the duty that one has to perform and the expectation of giving all of one to one’s job and country.

The Jack that went into the Army is NOT the same Jack that came back out- and those two simply might have head irreconcilable differences. I used to be with someone that was military and the person that came back from tours of combat was VERY different than who went in. We wound up breaking apart because of issues with  PTSD, lack of self care- and sometimes, no matter how much you want to help a person?

You can’t help them unless they’re willing to help themselves. 

We don’t know what Jack’s mental state was like, or what was expected of him by Vincent. What we DO know is that Jack found stability and support in Overwatch. He felt it was his duty, and he was doing the right thing.

So he sacrificed the one thing that made him happy.

Maybe Vincent understood, maybe they didn’t but it’s no reason to slander the character. Hopefully we’ll get more lore, but until then- just keep in mind that there is a marked difference between civilian and military—

- and an even greater one when the individual is a survivor to things that should have killed them, many times over.

And maybe, just maybe- Gabriel, out of anyone- understood. So, he stayed with the one friend he could trust. The one friend that had gone through everything with him.

The one friend he could have at his back. 

And that wasn’t Vincent. 

[fierceawakening]

I’m going to try one last time and then I’m gonna give up.

I think the reason the different positions on the empathy discussion seem so irreconcilable is because we’re talking about two different things.

Those of you who are uncomfortable with what iv3 been saying are talking about stigma and how you personally experience and fight it. You’re talking about therapists and teachers who say “this means you have a problem showing compassion to others” and who respond to you asking “okay, so how do I get around that?” with “you don’t.” This is awful, and yes, ableist, and you having feelings about it is totally understandable and I’d personally only think of you as some kind of weird robot if you DIDNT react.

Whereas what I’m talking about is, like, something is only diagnosable if it’s a pattern, and if it’s a pattern it’s something whose effects can be described, and those effects can be talked about as good or bad. So like, “mike doesn’t react to other people’s feelings” isn’t just a statement about Mikes inner weird little private thoughts. It’s “when I hang out with mike, I feel kind of uncomfortable. I feel like he doesn’t really get where I’m coming from, or is cold to me and I’m not sure why. I don’t want to be mean, but I don’t like that.”

That’s why I compared it to my legs. If someone tells me that they think I’m inferior because my legs don’t work that well, they’re being mean. But if someone less me “don’t come hiking with us, I think it might be a bit much for you,” that by itself isn’t a rejection of me. Maybe it is if it’s said in a sneering tone that makes it clear they haven’t actually bothered to observe me, but if it’s someone who knows me? Not so much.

And the thing that low empathy from the stuff I’ve read is supposed to do is make it harder to connect with other people. Which makes sense to me: if it’s hard to know how someone else feels, whether because you have trouble thinking it through or because you don’t experience emotional contagion, it’s not surprising that they react to you as “less friend shaped” or—a common plaint I hear from Nd men—“less datemate shaped.”

And to me, this isn’t distinct from “morality” in some way—“morality” is basically sets of norms and behaviors around how we treat one another, and one another includes family and friends and lovers as much as it does acquaintances. So if we don’t pick up emotion-cues, that doesn’t mean we are immoral, but it does mean we can be prone to insensitivity or even callousness, and actions grounded in those things are blameworthy. Most of the time very mildly—it’s “inattentive” or “brusque,” not “wicked” or “depraved”—but it is a limitation.

I suspect that because the other side is used to being called “evil” it’s hard to hear “moral action isn’t always sweeping stuff, sometimes it’s courtesy or respect, and picking up other people’s cues help.”

But that’s the sort of thing I’m saying—even the people who exhort you to be Very Afraid of psychopaths aren’t generally saying they’re gonna dismember you, they’re saying “they do stuff like cheat on people and con them, which makes sense to do if how someone feels isn’t part of your deliberation on what to do.”

So my point is not “I want you to be emotional when you aren’t,” it’s “if you’re getting consistent feedback that you’re behaving callously and this is puzzling because you’re not trying to, you might want to think about how in tune with others’ emotions you are. That could be one reason for the disconnect.”

[coppercrane2]

oOOOH CAN I ALSO ASK OF YOU for the author asks 1, 6, 15, 22 ?

Yes you can! Thank you @kanadka ^_^ For the Author Ask Meme

1. Where do you typically get your ideas?

In the shower XD

But really, from the same places as other people: books, movies, shows…

More specifically, I suppose, I find inspiration for plot amongst the above, but when it comes to characterisation, it’s either drawn from real life - the people around me - or from other fics written in our AMAZING fandom. 

6. Where do your titles come from?

That’s always been a weird process. I’ll spend ages thinking of the absolute worst titles until one day, it just hits, like lightning, and I go ‘YES! THAT’S PERFECT’. It happens every. single. time. 

15. How do you write a really good metaphor?

I answered this one here, so I went ahead and chose the next one down:

16. What is your best piece of advice for writing angst scenes?

Irreconcilable differences (either in character, viewpoint, culture or politics) vs. love/loyalty. 

Misunderstandings and clashes in personality are a great tool for temporary angst. They make you pity the characters but with a little character growth and some good plotting you can have a wonderful reconciliation which makes the whole relationship more satisfying to read. 

But if you want deep, dark angst you have to keep your couple (or friends) separated. If you use outside forces to do so, you create a feeling of helplessness and pity for the couple, but as sad as it is, there’s a sense of reassurance for the reader that the characters are still united - if not physically, then at least in spirit, in their love/friendship/loyalty for each other. Think Serenity and Endymion, or Luna and Queen Serenity in the Silver Millennium. 

If you want to turn up the angst to eleven, then you need to create a conflict which permanently taints the relationship but which isn’t enough to turn the original feelings of love/friendship/loyalty to hate - internal forces which keep the couple apart, so that no one can be blamed for the separation but the lovers/friends themselves. Give me two characters who live for honour and duty and fall in love with each other specifically because they find these traits in the other person, and then have these characteristics pull them into opposing ideologies. Give me a Zoisite who sees the destruction of the Moon Kingdom as the only means to eliminate the threat of encroaching Lunar influence over his people, and a Mercury who knows that his fears are justified but cannot permit the annihilation of an entire race (including her Princess). 

22. What is your best piece of advice for writing fluff scenes?

Fluff is one of the most wonderful things in the world. It’s there to make you happy. And that means you can write what you damn well want. Spending a day at the park holding hands with your sweetheart? Do it! Date night fic? Do it! Who cares if the character is dark and twisted and has irreconcilable ideologies with their loved one, here’s a chance to forget about it for a day and have them watch a movie together, or just lock themselves away from the world and adamantly agree not to talk politics for a few hours. 

Put your characters in a bubble, and have them do whatever makes you happy.