#i would give you points on my game show. just to be nice.

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[faraway-sunshine]

We Interrupt This Blog To Show You Something Awesome

Omori has a Lego Ideas set! This awesomeness is brought to you by designer FoodIsScarce.

Under the cut, I'll be showing more images, explaining my thoughts, and give clarifications on how Lego Ideas works for this set. But if you want to skip that, link is here.

Lego Ideas Neighbor's Room and White Space Set Breakdown

To start off, this set has a whopping three components, all of which stand alone.

First, we have Neighbor's room!

The colors are honestly so nice in this mock-up. Lego has a fairly limited palette, but being bright and poppy works really well here.

Compared to the in-game room, it's pretty compact, but that makes sense so it doesn't dominate your shelves. Everything important is there, to outstanding detail. The leaves may ride up higher above the doorframe, but it doesn't break the immersion for me. It all feels like a piece of really nice fanart or even concept art.

The yellow cat is the centerpiece and I am very impressed with it. It isn't as stretched out as the original, though that's affected by the build size, but the shape of the paws, ears and head are spot-on and the face sticker really sells it.

Also, building the set sideways so it's smooth? Genius in my books. Sure, the minifigs won't stick, but all the smooth edges in this make the set stand out from Lego's lineup without seeming like a jarring oddity. Kind of like Omori's world compared to a bunch of other RPGs, really, so it's fitting.

I guess if I have a nitpick it'd be that the leaves are entirely different in vibe due to being all fluffy and rounded instead of the big sharp shapes in the original, but I don't think that's even really a bad thing. Just part of the Lego-ifying process. Also I groan at how I know I will place the cat's eyes wrong. Stickers are the bane of my existence. For Yellow Cat though, I would in theory persist.

Next, we have Mari's picnic blanket!

Gotta be honest, this caught me off guard, even as someone who was keeping track of this project for a while, but this is AWESOME. Colors are nailed, the existing basket and fruit pieces translate so well, and I just want to place all my fave figs on it immediately. I do hope that Mari's square could be subbed out with something with studs to keep her in place, as nothing else seems to be (maybe the basket has a 1 by 2 piece keeping it locked?).

I think it's an excellent choice even if it doesn't appear in either main room because you can plonk it by any other set or the huge pile of loose bricks you haven't gotten around to sorting yet and boom. You've just made a new corner of Headspace!

Last but certainly not least, White Space!

The computer and tissue box I think were really well done. Smooth place also tickles my fancy. I'm not as sold by the suspended light bulb; some white walls that maybe has a claw on the side would have helped sell the room more to me, I think. But it's solid.

And then you get to my favorite part in the room:

Original creator, you have my vote.

What about the minifigs?

This set still has you covered!

In this current iteration it includes six minifigs for your main characters as well as the cat and snake seen in earlier pictures. Everyone except Hero and Mari seem to be those shorter models, which always used to annoy me as a kid cause I couldn't bend the legs, but gets a pass here because remembering that height difference is nice.

The hair is a hot point of contest with the comments and Reddit posts. I'll explain more below, but Lego Ideas has rules about custom molds for new figures, so these were the closest the creator could get. And hey, I think Hero is spot on!

All the outfits and faces are custom prints, which are far easier than custom molds, and I think were done really well! Basil's top might be a bit bright, but otherwise the colors are perfect, and so is all the printing.

I also saw that Mari, Basil and Aubrey all had one extra face, which is rad. Not sure yet if Hero and Kel do too or if it's just the girls (I should assume Omori is just slate-faced as ever).

Just one more note: I love how spoiler-free this set is. You know everything in the first few moments of play. Our community is really bad with spoilers, I admit, so this is perfect for a shelf.

Here's some pics of them in action:

How does Lego Ideas even work? Is my vote worth it?

Short answer: Heck yeah!

Long answer:

Lego Ideas is a really popular program with a lot of new builds all the time, and people put a lot of work into both the models and promoting them just for the off-chance of it becoming a product.

I compiled some questions you might have based on this set specifically, but there's plenty of info yourself if you want to learn more.

How does a set get selected?

Lego Ideas has three intake periods a year for products that get over 10k signatures between the last period and that date. Each intake only has a select few that actually get to that mark; the record number in 2021 according to Wikipedia is 57 in one 2021 intake. It sounds like a lot, but in the site's 10-year run it's had over 135,000 ideas shared, not including a bunch that would have been struck down prior to going live due to breaking rules.

Each set gets 60 days to meet that goal on first launch, then an additional 365 once 100 people have signed on. Getting 1,000 supporters gives you an extra 6 months on top of that, and 5,000 (the halfway mark) another 6 months.

Meeting that 10k mark is non-negotiable for that specific set to receive the expert review through Ideas, though successful ideas that are lower may spark inspiration from their own teams.

Do I need to pledge money?

No! Lego Ideas is not a Kickstarter or crowdfund campaign. Those ask for money as they need a way to produce and distribute the product. Lego handles this on the creator's behalf.

All you need is to make a free Lego account and click the support button. You don't even have to enable email notifications on signup.

Where will I find the set then if it's made?

Anywhere else you find Lego! Even toyshops I go to have a small shelf for Ideas sets. If none of your local retailers have it, it'd be on online storefronts worldwide.

But Omori is a licensed product!

So are most of Lego Ideas' concepts that make it to becoming a set! Out of the 65 sets announced and confirmed for production (or who have already had their run!) just 29 are not tied to an IP.

So Omocat will be involved?

Yes. If the idea gets far enough, Lego would reach out to Omocat and any other copyright holders of Omori to discuss how to proceed. They will also get a say in any tweaks, and likely make a licensing fee off of Lego.

However, due to the Ideas streamline, the set likely won't be sold on Omocat's storefront (and if they are, it'd be because Omocat got a few sets to sell from them; they'll never be exclusive to Omocat's store).

Will the creator get paid?

If it makes it, yes! Lego Ideas people get a 1% cut. It's not much, but for all the work it gets to 10k I think it's earned.

But Omori isn't for kids!

Guess what: Neither are most Ideas! They're packed in black boxes and kept near the architecture and more advanced Technic sets targeted towards adults. Each set also has an age recommendation based both on set difficulty and the IP.

Is Omori even appropriate for Lego as a brand?

Omori is on the list of approved IP for Lego Ideas. This may be reviewed, but I think it will remain appropriate both because the set does not portray any of the concerning content in the game and because of the nature.

Lego says they won't make sets for franchises built around graphic violence, alcohol, or sex. Omori lacks all that. I doubt it would be yanked down based on that.

I don't care about Omori. Why should I support this?

First, why did you make it down here?

And second, look. I get it even as a fan. But if we can get an Omori set even to the review stage, that opens up the door for people to try with all other kinds of indie franchises. Undertale, Oneshot, Stardew Valley, Hollow Knight, whatever you think of!

Lego Ideas is a portal to Lego working with IP that isn't just owned by a mega corporation, and I think that is awesome.

I signed! What else can I do?

Spread the word! Reblog this post, tell your friends about it, repost (with links and credit) to other social media. Every little bit helps on the road to 10k, to catch Lego's attention, or even just to inspire someone else with a set idea they worry is too niche to share.

Cause this isn't just about Omori. It's about supporting the creativity of a dedicated fan who spent a long time working on something clearly inspired by a game held closely. And I am always going to support that.

Thank you for reading this far! If you're a regular, sorry for the break, lol. I will get back to regular posts soon. I just had an exam so am still a bit drained.

LINK IS HERE FOR A SECOND TIME: https://ideas.lego.com/projects/a73aaefc-9bc2-44f8-b106-63d66817fd1a/official_comments#content_nav_tabs

[wizardsix]

ok... so I have finally finished veilguard after about 90 painful hours (two playthroughs). im not gonna write an actual review about all of my detailed thoughts bc it'll actually take days, this is just to at least get my general thoughts out and see if anyone else feels the same or if ive actually lost it.

overall it is the weakest dragon age game story-wise, and I'd give it a nice lukewarm 4/10.

(i wrote this post right after I finished the game on the weekend so maybe I sound a bit harsh, I tried to edit it to be more reasonable lol but I didn't really want to delete this since I do still stand by a lot of this)

I really tried to go in with an open mind, bc I always want to experience media in full before making any kind of judgement, but about a few hours in I had this horrible feeling that once again this was another soulless, rushed game, and I still don't feel any different after finishing the game.

what stuck out to me was that there's no sense of urgency despite what the plot is, serious topics are not treated with care as the writing overall is shallow, and the gods as well as any other enemy you encounter are just cartoon villains (and apparently the lore retconning, but I'm not well-versed enough to dissect that so I won't).

I can't take this plot seriously when it feels so disjointed and forced and lazy. and I see no point in caring about anything when choices literally don't matter. no say in who you recruit, no say in the relationships with them and they have almost no awareness of rook, definitely doesn't matter if you have allies or not bc they show up anyway, and only four companions are locked into unavoidable decisions where one of them bites the dust no matter what (which is strange bc why are harding and davrin forced to die no matter if they're at hero status while bellara and neve can literally survive blight if they're at hero status), so it's impossible to try to strategize for better (or worse) outcomes with all the people you've gathered when there's only one right answer that the game pretty much tells you instead of letting you think for yourself (and side note this game does an incredible amount of hand holding). the game actively tries to trick you into thinking your choices matter with the onscreen notifications, but nothing matters bc the devs clearly had only one story in mind and for some reason lied that it had "complex choices".

also rook in general wasn't interesting as a protagonist bc they were written to be perfect. they always know what to say and are so supportive of everyone. they never struggle with anything. not even with leadership beyond "man leading a team is hard :/" but it doesn't actually show how hard it is by having actual volatile conflict between the companions* or showing how their plans sometimes fail. which, if we actually had choices that mattered, would have helped develop that struggle. also? what's with everyone being so friendly? I'm not gonna get into that but everyone is so eerily nice and it's been said a lot but yeah, the world is extremely sanitized and devoid of any real conflict aside from the gods I guess.

*(like off the top of my head cassandra fighting with varric and accusing him of not being on their side or how the inquisitor can literally punch dorian and solas if approval is low enough or fenris and anders bordering on killing each other is not the same as lucanis and davrin distrusting each other or people being uncomfortable with emmrich's necromancy. it just scratches the surface of conflict and never goes anywhere)

and let me say real quick again, there's nothing wrong if they wanted to make a more rigid story about being a hero. it's been done a million times and it can be executed well, but if you do that you need to make sure you 1) don't lie to people and 2) actually flesh out your (especially main) characters and plot to give people a reason to care. look at dragon age 2. hawke is a fixed protagonist with their own life front and center. they ultimately only have two choices (siding with mages or templars), but it works bc the game took time to build up the conflict straight from act 1 so by the time chaos happens in act 2 and 3 you understand why bc it's Been brewing the whole time. it just makes sense. the villains as well have sound reasons and feel real instead of being evil just bc. the story is more grounded, yet you have choices. you decide if hawke ends up alone or not. you decide how they approach situations with force or diplomacy. there's none of that in veilguard. a game that supposedly took 10 years to make. when dragon age 2 took almost 16 months (yes I know da2 also has problems like the fact that the templars are always proven right but this isn't the place to dissect that).

I want to be fair though and I do want to restate what I enjoyed about the game. the cc (though would it kill them to have more variety in face textures like age and body types beyond average.. also no colour wheel... especially since they claimed their cc was so good), the map progression/visuals/exploration (how certain places become more blighted overtime), the factions (though I feel there should have been more content for your faction, and helping them or not should have mattered more), the combat (did not feel like a slog, pretty fun and mindless), the companions (bellara, davrin, emmrich, harding, and lucanis had solid personalities and stories despite my complaints. neve was not memorable and I just feel sad for taash's bad writing), certain parts of the story were good, the intro and the point of no return sequences were solid, and the ending didn't feel rushed or boring compared to inquisition. and yes, I do appreciate that rook can be trans, I just think a little more subtly and care would've been nice.

another thing I did like and predicted was that varric died at the beginning of veilguard, and for a second I actually enjoyed that because i thought we were finally (a bit too late tho) getting some depth to rook and their own struggles of accepting his death and carrying this weight without him. and while I do think maybe they should've taken more time to establish the mentor/mentee relationship so we really feel rooks regret, I still think it was at least the right direction where in their grief they still see him, giving advice and narrating their journey.....but then it turned out to just be solas manipulating them the whole time, immediately destroying any emotional weight this reveal had.

whenever bioware has good ideas they shoot themselves in the foot and make it about solas. it's like nothing in the world exists without solas being involved somehow, and that is just incredibly boring and uninspired to me. not to mention solas just being an insufferable ass the whole time, which is fine, but it's not even in a compelling way like he used to be. he became so ugly by the end and the fact that the devs consider redeeming him the "good ending" and not giving him what he deserves is very telling and once again shows their own bias is king over good storytelling (solas' feelings should not come into play here, whether you/your companions live or die should determine good/bad ending since solas is trapped no matter what, only difference is who is trapped with him. idk but I personally think different endings actually means different outcomes). i will not go into the bs of the secret post credit scene, bc frankly I'm fed up with bioware's shitty writing and I won't be playing their next world ending space aliens game (unless they miraculously pull a good story out of their ass but lbr).

overall the bad outweighs the good for me. it's fun to play as a game, it's a decent fantasy game, but the story just doesn't do anything for me. sometimes I wonder if dreadwolf was a completely different game and was scrapped for veilguard last minute. maybe this was yet another inevitable industry fuck up and maybe there was a good story planned at one point. idk. all I know is bioware lied. respect and credit to the poor devs and writers who actually cared and to those who were kicked from the project, but in the end bioware promised too much and delivered too little.

[themanwhowouldbefruit]

you guys be serious castiel was alive for a very long time and then he fell in love (The Man Who Would Be King 2011 dir. Ben Edlund) ok but dw about it castiel is always cool w me😎👍

[theonewhowails]

Golden Fleece

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night’s dream was the first one I’ve had in a long time where I wanted to fall back asleep and stay in it/experience it again

[eupheme]

— sharing is caring

[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 4k

tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink

It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.

(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)

The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.

It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.

A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.

It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.

Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.

Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.

You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.

Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.

But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.

Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.

"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."

It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.

"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"

Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.

“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”

It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.

“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”

Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.

"Don't have one."

It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.

'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"

Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."

"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.

Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.

Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”

There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.

“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”

There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.

“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”

As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.

The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.

“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”

You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.

A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.

You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.

He doesn’t let you down.

“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”

It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.

There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.

“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”

That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.

Teasing. Logan is teasing you.

You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.

It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.

How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.

You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.

“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”

Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.

“Thought it was a one-time thing.”

You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”

And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.

He huffs, and your voice softens.

“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

The look he gives you is searching.

“Wade put you up to this?”

You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek.

“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”

Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.

Neither one of you had stood a chance.

“I’m sorry.”

You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.

“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”

There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.

Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.

Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”

There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.

You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.

This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.

“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”

Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”

There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.

Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.

Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.

Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.

Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.

“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.

Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.

“I’m talking to king dong right here.”

There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”

“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”

“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”

He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.

It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.

“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”

Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.

“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”

A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.

“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”

The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.

“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”

There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.

He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.

“Cold day in hell before that happens.”

It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.

“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.

“I have a way of making people beg.”

You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.

The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.

There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.

It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.

“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”

Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.

Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.

“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”

The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.

“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.

Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.

A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.

You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.

It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.

“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.

There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.

A kiss dropped against your shoulder.

“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.

“That’s okay, I do too.”

His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.

A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”

Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.

Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.

“Room for two, honey.”

There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.

“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.

His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.

Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.

“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”

A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.

“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”

There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.

“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”

“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”

He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.

A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.

It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.

There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.

Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.

“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”

Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”

“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”

Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.

“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”

Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.

“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.

“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”

You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.

“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”

You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.

Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.

Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.

Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”

It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.

“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”

Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.

Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.

Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.

“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”

You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”

His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.

“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.

Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.

The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.

His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.

“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”

The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.

And if you were a betting girl…

You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.

Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.

“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”

A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”

Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.

Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.

“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.

A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”

Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.

“Don’t ruin it.”

Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.

“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.

His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”

“I’ll be right back.”

thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[cy-cyborg]

I'm begging dragonage fans to do a tiny bit of research about arm amputees before loudly shouting their opinions on the inquisitor returning in the next game Please lol.

Apparently, it was confirmed that the inquisitor, your chatacter from the last game (who looses their arm in the final cutscene of the DLC), will return in Veilguard as a customisable character, similar to Hawke, and they will play an active roll in the story. This has caused a lot of people to start speculating on how they'll handle the inquisitor's missing hand, with most people agreeing they'll have to have a prosthetic to be an active part of the story. Which, while I do think this is the rought bioware will take, isn't true, and a part of me really hopes they leave the inquisitor without a prosthetic arm like in the end of Tresspasser

Partially because we already have a companion with a prosthetic (neve) and it would be nice to see some diversity in how amputation is depicted in such a mainstream game, but also because you dont need a prosthetic to fight as any of the main 3 classes from inquisition.

Mage:

mages just need a staff, the game shows them as 2 handed weapons but it's totally beleiveable that it would be usable 1-handed (Neve also uses a dagger-like weapon in the trailer, you can make a "staff" in inquisition that functions more like an energy sword, and the Mage in the chargers uses a staff resembling a bow, so I think it's more that they just need a focus, the shape doesn't matter as much). A knight enchanter may struggle more 1 handed, but I wouldn't write it off as an option with some modifications made to their main staff.

Warrior:

the easiest to justify, because there are several cases of arm amputees fighting with a sword and sheild in history, and while many did have prosthetics, most weren't functional (meaning they were mainly for aesthetic purposes and didn't actually aid the fighter in any way. There were exceptions, like Götz of the iron hand, who's prosthetic was functional, but most were not). The inquisitor looses their arm just above the wrist*, so they still have most of their forearm. Most sheilds strap to the forearm, so it wouldn't take much adjustment to make that work, and you can use the other hand for the weapon. Obviously, two-handed weapons will probably be off the table, though, lol.

*edit to say, as several people pointed out, i got that wrong, my bad 😅. The inquisitors arm is actually amputated through the elbow, the screenshots i was looking at just weren't very clear and it has been a while since i got to trespasser lol. It would still entirely possible to strap a shield to the upper arm though, with some pretty minor adjustments to the existing straps on standard (as in, those used by non-disabled warriors) tall shields, so the point still stands.

Rogue

this is the one people tend to be the loudest about and the one I understand the most. Obviously duel-weilding daggers won't work (unless you give them something like the hidden blades in assassin's creed on their stump side, I guess) but using a single dagger still would, and is a perfectly reasonable approach, given that's how most irl people used daggers. Archery, though, absolutely can work without a prosthetic, despite what people think. Dragonage has crossbows, not something like Bianca (rip) but a small, single-handed crossbow is an option. Even ignoring that though, amputee archery is a thing irl, and not every arm amputee uses prosthetics for it. The bows are modified to be held in one hand and drawn with the mouth using a kind of pully-system built into the bow that I could very easily see being modified into some dwarven-style contraption in game (some double arm amputees use their feet to draw regular bows, but I don't think that would be pheasable in combat).

Like I said, I think bioware will probably go with a prosthetic, but i hope that they don't. Or at the very least, show them with it sometimes and without it other times (the same goes for Neve, no one wears their prosthetic 24/7, I'd love to see them both take them off around the home base, even just occasionally). A lot of arm amputees in particular prefer to go without one, and arm prosthetics in media are some of the worst offenders of the "perfect prosthetic"/"miracle cure prosthetic" tropes. It doesn't count as "diversity" or disability representation if it doesn't actually change anything other than the look of the chatacter, and im really, really desperate for some actually decent amputee representation in games.

[callilypso]

II ▷ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 — l&ds 0:01 ───|────────────────────

↳ there's no way they're getting jealous over pixelated men.. right? it's not your fault you've got a very particular type.

↳ scenarios in which they witness you fangirling over fictional men (ironic i know) that's actually quite similar to them in personality/vibes

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: mdni; fem!mc (but ur welcome to hc urself as whatvever you want); mostly crack; zayne suggestive (implied smut), fluff, xavier fluff, rafayel angst, hurt/comfort, sylus fluff; references to l&ds myths lore, a lot of anime references and possible spoilers for shows/game (jjk, apothecary diaries, ghibli movies, ff), established relationships; a lot of thirsting, jealousy, mc is emotional and assertive, periods, ovulation mention, mc and sylus have playful banter dynamic; unedited

❥ a/n: these are silly ideas that's been in my head for a while now and its most self indulgent. its been plaguing my head now about how i would let nanami and zayne hit at the same time and dingdingding! ideaaa. i do appreciate some feedback and reblogs!! this is my first time posting about l&ds, and my own interpretation for them may vary from yours. english isn't my first language so pls pardon my grammatical errors. minors and ageless blogs will be BLOCKED.

Now ever since you were both kids, he already knew your absolute fascination for anime, sometimes even joining you as you watch the latest Sailor Moon and Detective Conan episodes. He also remembers vaguely how you had an absolutely massive crush on Roy Mustang from FMA. He was sure you didn't even understand the plot you were just ogling at him as he silently judged you.

So it shouldn't be a surprise that you still are, in fact, a massive weeb.

And it shouldn't be surprising you would still have fictional crushes, even with your established relationship. It's not that Zayne feels threatened in anyway—they're not real for heaven's sake.

But after a long 36-hour shift and a major surgery, exhaustion seeping into his taut muscles, bones aching, skin longing for yours—something just slightly irks him when he sees wayyy too close to the TV, kicking your feet like a silly little girl on the floor, gripping your biggest plushie.

You were giggling and grinning like a mad woman as you were just practically drooling over the latest episode of Jujutsu Kaisen.

You were replaying the part of Nanami Kento pulling some blonde dude's hair roughly, pulling him to his shadowed face.

"What's the number and location of your allies?" Nanami growled through the screen, and you were giggling again, rewinding for the nth time. Damn his wide ass shoulders seems so nice to rest (your legs) on.

He was the perfect balance of serious and dry humor. His suits were always on point, paired with leather shoes and luxury silver watch. The way he would carry himself; his presence bringing in the level-headed maturity needed by the mostly teenage cast, truly the reliable adult they all need. Nanami Kento was truly husband material.

You go over the scene again when Nanami tugs the dude again by his ponytail, a good shot of Nanami's packed pants in side view.

And god, you would have pulled those pants down and showed Shibuya a real incident—

After a while, you were getting uncomfortable, so you stood up from your spot, deciding to get something to drink when you stop dead on your tracks.

There was Zayne, sitting on the couch still dressed from the hospital minus the white coat. He had his arms folded against his chest, watching you with tired eyes.

"Oh—Zayne! Welcome back, love." You greeted as you made your way to him to give him a kiss.

He didn't kiss you back.

You give him a concerned look. Although you were already used to his stressed demeanor though after work, you can sense this was slightly different.

"Love?" You called out to him again, hand travelling to his chest. You see his gaze faltering into a fondness familiar to you, and he looks away.

Ah..

You bit your lip to suppress a snort, grabbing the tie to make him face you again.

"Is Doctor.. sulking?" You quirked an eyebrow at him.

Zayne grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap and you oblige, effectively straddling him.. You put your arms around his neck as he nudges his nose at the crook of your neck, placing butterfly kisses.

"I don't know... maybe my woman saying she's about to pull down another man's pants is a justifiable reason?" he murmurs into your skin, hugging your waist closer.

Oh fuck, you said that out loud?

He felt you shake with laughter. Unraveling from the embrace, you cup his face with both hands.

"My love, we both know the only man I can and will ever that to is you." You reassure him, still giggling as you feel him sigh a shaky breath.. and a familiar tent poking you down there.

You loved when Zayne gets like this, being extra clingy after long work days—soft, yearning, needy.

The renowned Doctor Zayne, always so frigid when it comes to other matters, is melting under your touch, almost pouty because of a fictional blonde man on TV. You could almost coo.

"Hm.. maybe I'd like a demonstration?" Zayne drawls out in request, almost plea. Polite as always, you would think,

If not for the sudden tug at back of your hair, exposing the column of your neck.

A silent moan breathes out of your lips, feeling him nip down to your collarbones.

You huff out a laugh, feeling Zayne hum on your skin.

"Seems like someone's got inspired."

Xavier is a jealous man. Whether or not he acknowledges this, everyone and their mother knows this is an established fact.

Another man breathes your direction and something immediately itches under his skin to pull out his sword. This may or may not be an exaggeration.. I mean the man is literally jealous of himself.

So what do you expect when, unbeknownst to you, he catches you giggling to yourself at your phone during lunchbreak? He's on his way to spend it with you at your usual place, take out of your favorite food in hand.

"Did your boyfriend text you or something, girl?" He hears someone tease you—Tara, he figures—and he stops at the corner where he's about to turn. Xavier peeks his head a little and he sees her nudging your arm as you look up at her, eyebrow quirked and a goofy smile on your lips. You were both turned away from him waiting at a table.

He remains hidden at the corner, confused.

He didn't text you though? Did he?

"Noooo—it's nothing.. just a new episode." You tuck your phone away from her prying eyes.

"Ohhh, so it's your other boyfriend-" Tara teases, and you hit her playfully. "Who is it now? Gojo? Himmel?"

There's a ringing in Xavier's ears.

"Ssshhhh!—you're so loud!" You whisper yelled, pulling Tara beside you to show her your screen.

It was Apothecary Diaries. Jinshi spotted Maomao at work as a servant after being laid off the palace, and of course, went to bother her.

Jinshi brushes his finger over Maomao's lips, staining it with pink rouge, before bringing it up to his own lips and kissing it. He smiles at her after and she looks away, flustered.

You and Tara start squealing as discretely as possible to avoid looking like total idiots in public to no avail, as you were shaking Tara in giddiness.

"If Maomao ain't gonna kiss him soon enough, I will!" You say through your gritted teeth in frustration.

The way he looks at her, like she's so far out of his reach whenever they do touch, sadness and longing in his gaze. You eat it up every time he's getting starstruck by her hidden beauty. It was so obvious he was the supposedly sickly prince of the kingdom, masking his own identity for the sake of his mission (ahem), yet it cracks sometimes just to let this supposedly common clever peasant girl to seep through, leading to his silly misunderstandings and petty jealousy-

Behind, you both hear someone clear their throat, and you slowly pan over your gazes.

There was Xavier, arms crossed, an unamused look in his eyes as he looks down on you both. Tara stands up way too fast.

"Hey there! I just remembered I have something to do—See you later, girl!" She quickly takes off, leaving you high and dry.. and awkward as fuck.

Yeah, he's seen the scene himself too while you two were too busy fangirling amongst yourselves. Yes, he knows who Jinshi is, as you two were also watching the show together every new episode. And yes, he was aware about your love for shoujo and how you absolutely going crazy over Jinshi and Maomao's moments way before this. He did find it cute whenever you get giddy about them, telling him they should just get together already.

"H-Hey, Xavier!" You stammer, also quickly standing to greet him. Shit, you think to yourself. You were holding those other thoughts to yourself as you watch together because once again..

Xavier is a jealous man.

Maybe you can still get off the hook because its a fictional man for heaven's sake. You internally sigh, remembering the one time you were hitting the sofa too many times with a hushed scream the moment Yuta Okkotsu popped out on screen in season 2 of JJK.. Xavier had his eyebrows knitted the entire evening after that.

But alas, Xavier is your jealous man.

There's a pout on his lips with the familiar frown, and you could almost laugh.

"You watched it without me.." He complained, yet still letting you pull him beside you this time, and sat down.

"We can watch the whole thing later again, bunny." You hook your arm around him, and you feel him loosen up a bit of his tension. But now he won't look at you.

"Maybe, I don't want to anymore.. It's been spoiled now." Xavier pouted.

You can't help snickering, squeezing your embrace on his arm, tugging him to catch his gaze again. He just continued to look away pettily, sulking.

An idea pops in your mind.

You brush your finger over his lips ever so slowly, finally catching his attention.

He watches as you bring them to your own lips, kissing intently just as Jinshi did for Maomao.

A blush creeps into his cheeks, ears tinting red as you smile at him. He's so adorable, and all yours.

"Kiss me?" You ask, eyes lingering on his lips, and Xavier's breath hitches.

"You're no fair.." He huffs, closing the distance between the two of you.

Who was he to refuse?

We've all got our childhood cartoon crushes, in more 'hear-me-out' ways or tame ones. There's ones we grow out of and ones that's like.. forever ingrained into your mind because it changed your brain chemistry.

You were rewatching your ultimate comfort Ghibli movie for the millionth time: Howl's Moving Castle.

Yeah, yeah—it could be considered overrated nowadays but that doesn't matter as it never truly gets old for you. You always find new ways to appreciate the film, from the enchanting music, the vibrant distinct art style and animation, the beautiful characterization of the cast, and the overall themes and plot is just absolutely perfect.

And yes, you do cry every time. You stopped wondering when you would grow out of that phase because it just hits so good.

It also doesn't help that it's your period, so the hormones are wack as hell and your uterus was killing you and stabbing out your fucking ass. You were contorted in an uncomfortable curled position as you downed the left over ice cream on Rafayel's couch in his studio. The night sky through the windows was a nice ambience as the TV illuminated the rest of the living space. You were wearing his favorite cream diamond patterned cardigan, the one with the red and blue hems. It still smelled like him, perfect for maximum comfort.

Rafayel wasn't actually in the studio when you got there. Ever since you got together, he gave you a spare key, insisting you were welcome anytime even when he wasn't around. His home was your home now too, he said. You texted him several times beforehand you were coming over, yet no reply—not even a seen. Moody as hell, you still crashed the place anyways, even more disappointed he wasn't anywhere in his property.

So now, you were just waiting for him to finish whatever business he has you have no idea about. You decided to stop pestering poor Thomas over him either as he too was didn't seem to know where in god's green earth Rafayel was—you were too tired and moody and in fucking pain to give a shit. If he doesn't wanna show up, fuck that guy.

Whatever, at least you've got Howl.

It was nearing the climax of the movie. Sophie was wandering through what was seemingly Howl's dream, finding herself in a familiar stone house in the middle of valleys of flowers. The meteor shower drifted against the night sky. A young Howl stood in the middle, jet black hair flowing with the wind as he catches a falling star. "I know where I am! I'm in Howl's childhood!" Sophie realizes, as the wind starts to lift her off her feet. Howl swallows the star, keeling over at a pain in his chest, and in his hands was his heart—Calcifer. "Howl! Calcifer!" Sophie yells desperately, and they both look over to her. "I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!"

Aaand you were bawling. It wasn't even that dramatic yet but you were bawling. It goes on for god knows how long as your attention wanders off.

Howl, despite his eccentric and seemingly vain nature, is deeply caring. Howl did not care for the war, only that it would end for everyone's sake. He sees the beauty within Sophie when she could not. The symbolism of Calcifer being able to be tamed by Sophie, the implied longing for her all those years, so much so even if the only thing seemingly linking them is an unsaid promise.

To be honest, you might just be projecting right now.

Maybe you actually miss him bad—his familiar low V-neck white shirts and black slacks hugging his waist, his pouty lips, and stupid charming smile. The studio was in the familiar mess, meaning everything was reminder of a touch of your own gorgeous annoying ass lover who's somewhere out there—

"Baby..?" A concerned voice calls out, and despite being here the entire time already, you finally felt like home.

You didn't even notice he was already there cause of your tear-blurred vision, relief making you cry a little harder as Rafayel wipes your tears away. All your irritation and the mental angry scolding you were gonna give him melts away as you lean into his hands.

"Hey—what happened? Are you—" Rafayel stammers, as this was kind of the first time he encountered you this seemingly distraught the entire time you were together. He knew he kind of fucked up by not answering soon enough because of his dead battery—fuck all that actually why are you even bawling your eyes out over the TV?!

He knew you can get emotional in films and shows but not this much. It made his chest ache seeing you like this even if it's just a movie.

"Let's run! Don't fight them, Howl!" Sophie cries out, drawing Rafayel's attention for a moment to the screen at the familiar dialogue. "Sorry, I've had enough of running away, Sophie. Now I've got something I want to protect. It's you."

He remembers you saying Ghibli movies were your comfort movies and you both had plans for a marathon together at some point. Seems like you started on your own. Rafayel knew a bit of this story.

Alright, perhaps more than just a bit.

"A-at the beginning, he greeted her saying he was—" you hiccupped, stammering your words out, placing your own hands over his, "He said he was looking everywhere for her."

"Yeah?" Rafayel whispered, hushing your cries.

"Mhm.. And he did wait for her, looking everywhere for his heart even when it was actually with him the entire time."

There's a pang in Rafayel's chest, squishing your face gently.

"And yet, it wasn't with him, even if his heart was in his chest—not unless she was with him." Rafayel whispered with an aching softness in his tone that's hard to miss.

Because Rafayel was holding his own heart in his hands right now, drying her tears.

You finally get a better look at him, the purple hues in his eyes twinkling like twilight seas against the dark. It was there again—a look into the familiar murky depths he doesn't let you dive into, lest you drown.

Yet you wouldn't mind if it was Rafayel. You wish he could trust you a little more.

Rafayel leans in for a kiss, but you stop him with a hand over his mouth.

"Wait—I'm literally snotty and ugly right now-" You quickly wipe the rest of the wetness from your face away, but then Rafayel's hands directed you back to his now growingly intense gaze.

"You're beautiful." He states, true with conviction.

"Are you trying to make me cry more?" You whine.

"Of course not, cutie. I-"

"You made me wait an eternity here.." You sobbed out, pain twisting in your gut again.

Rafayel's gritted his teeth, a flare of something unwanted momentarily rises but quickly gets doused again. No, this situation was all his fault and it's not fair on you. You were in pain and he wasn't there.

"I.." He manages, "I'm sorry.. But I would wait an eternity for you, my bride. I really will, I—"

I did.

The words immediately die in his mouth, drying his throat.

You notice Rafayel's own eyes glistening, tears threatening to fall and his breath beginning to shorten.

"Fyel? I'm not mad anymore, please don't cry too.." This time it's your turn to cup his face.

"I just really really missed you." You confess, caressing his cheek as you rested your forehead against his own.

"Well, I'm hear now, sweetheart.. Sorry I'm late." He breathes, finally pressing his lips against yours.

A heavy burden beats in his chest, one he knows you will unknowingly carry evermore.

Maybe you really had a type.

You admit you're always quite drawn to the questionable, morally ambiguous characters. Bonus points if the said character is insane to some degree. You tell yourself it's not like you would actually date people that crazy in your actual life. It's just all fun and games, right?

Sure.

Well, now you're dating The Leader of Onychinus, Sylus, the unofficial uncrowned emperor of the N109 Zone himself.

It isn't really as bad as regular people would think really. Sylus is a sweet and genuinely caring man in contrast of his public image. He has a reputation to uphold after all. He always spoiling you in whatever you wish, always open to whatever you want to say, and always present for you to call or visit. His tall imposing figure was more of a sign of comfort. He was basically a walking hearth, free to cling to whenever, wherever as you walk through the frigid streets of the N109 Zone.

Like look just at the man.. You literally fucking won at life.

To be honest, you have no idea how the hell you even got at this point. And who are you to complain? You were living your best life with someone who can match your freak, so to speak.

But, for now..

"Damn, why is he so.." You mutter to yourself, caressing the large tablet at your lap like an idiot.

"Don't deny me." Sephiroth says, doing some mental fuckery with Cloud for the hundredth time. It got you biting your nail. "Embrace me."

You definitely had a fucking type, you giggle to yourself.

You were just killing time since it's your vacation, and you were spending it in the ideal environment: your boyfriend's dark luxurious base, in the comfort of his king sized silk sheeted velvety bed, sleeping your troubles away. Sylus is out as usual, going on about his own business, so you had the whole place to yourself.. and Mephisto.

Upon your doom scrolling, you stumble upon this hauntingly beautiful man, Sephiroth, and you were pulled in like a moth to a flame.

It's not your first time seeing him—heck, everybody who's at least half as chronically online as you are has at least seen him once—but more of the first time to appreciate him more closely, especially that goddamn face—damn, are you ovulating or something what the hell?!

And now you've been going on for hours just ogling at the dude with no idea how long it's been. You already ordered all the games with the help of your so ever generous boyfriend's card, but your ass cannot wait for it anymore and just spoiled yourself silly watching other streamers and silent walkthroughs of every Final Fantasy content you could get your hands on.

One hundred percent no regrets.

You then wonder about how Sylus would look like with longer hair.. it might not be good for your health, you conclude, for both the sake of your heart and uterus.

Luckily for you at least, Sylus doesn't seem like he's hellbent to destroy the planet in an existential downward spiral of insanity. But it makes you think about how far you'd be willing to actually follow him in his path.

(Something dark stirs within you, but you pay it no mind. You don't wanna be hearing those voices again anytime soon.)

The camera pans to Sephiroth's lips for what seems like half of his screentime, and your biting your own goddamn lip. The curve of that upper lip was killing you.

They didn't have to make him literally so damn ethereal, although it fits his fallen angel motifs. His uncanny green eyes literally stares into your soul, pulling you in and in and in, until you you're all snug under his thumb. Sure, the dude is a manipulative murderous bastard with a literal God-complex, because fuck his ugly ass father you refuse to acknowledge has any relation to him..

But now that's just a part of his charm now, isn't it?

"Good, Cloud.. very good.." Sephiroth whispers as he embraces the blond with such eerie intimacy that shouldn't be possible while being fucking stabbed.

You swear you can already feel the hot breath fanning your ear as he said those lines.

"Damn it—Cloud, let me be the trusted adult to save you right now and switch!" You shake the screen with frustration. "That should have been me..!"

"What should be you, sweetie?"

A familiar deep voice calls out from the dark entrance of your shared bedroom, reverberating from your toes and up your spine.

"Sylus!" You throw your tablet so fast you weren't sure if it landed on the mattress as you stood up, sliding your feet towards him.

No one beats your real white haired, ruby-eyed, impossibly handsome, ridiculously tall powerful man for you..

But you would never say that out loud because the man needs to be kept knocked down a peg or you will never hear the end of it.

"A little birdie has been bugging me all night about how.. unfaithful you were being," Sylus tucks a strand behind your ear, finger trailing down your jaw. "Care to tell me what's that all about?"

You gape at him, snapping your head towards Mephisto who was still as a statue at your bedside. From your view, it seemed like that accursed bird is avoiding your gaze in shame.

"You little..!—"

Sylus grabs your attention back by your chin, making you lock eyes with him. There it was—that intense gaze, his crimson eyes pouring into yours, making you come undone. He can pick you apart and mold you back piece by piece, and the scary part of it all was that you would most likely let him.

Again, not that he needed to know that.

"Now, now, kitten. Don't blame him." He chuckles and you swear it's the sexiest sound you've ever heard, your heart pacing faster.

"I—He's literally exaggerating! I was just watching a game here the entire time!" You huffed, crossing your arms and looking away like a petty child. He laughs a little more.

"What were you watching so intently that I catch you still awake at the break of dawn, hm?"

You glance at the clock. 5:02 AM. You were up all night? Damn.. not the first time but you haven't lost track of time that badly since binging House of the Dragon a couple months ago.

"Oh, I thought that little traitor—" You give Mephisto a pointed look, still looking away with guilt, "—told you everything at this point."

Sylus pulls you closer by your waist, until your chests bump each other. "Well.. maybe I want to hear it from you, since you somehow purchased a whole game series with the card I lent you."

Okay, fair enough.

"It's just a game, love. I saw a character I liked, so I decided why not get it myself? But then I couldn't sit around waiting so I just.. watched some videos." You scratch you head in frustration. "Like how did that turn into unfaithfulness!" You whine.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation drooping your eyelids that's got you more irritated as you hit his chest with some considerable force.

He huffs mockingly. He was obviously messing with you, yet you were oddly taking this more serious than he anticipated. Makes him wanna tease you more.

In a blink, your tablet was in his hands, grabbed by his Evol. It's still open.

"Hey!" You jump up into your tippy toes, trying to pry your gadget back from him, but he's literal fucking giant.

Seeing an opportunity, Sylus hooks his arm under your thighs and hoists you up easily as many times as before. You quickly bring your arms around his neck, trying to remain in balance.

"Put me down!" You struggle in his hold whilst still reaching for your tablet to no avail. It made Sylus laugh even more.

"What's the matter, sweetie? I simply want to watch it together."

Sylus walks the two of you to the edge of the bed, sitting down with you on his lap. Before you could protest more, the video compilation starts playing,

And you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

"You're practically panting." Sephiroth says, walking up behind Cloud. "I'm excited." Cloud admits, claymore in hand. Amused, Sephiroth tilts his head with a hum. "Such a puppy."

You find yourself your face Sylus' shoulder in embarrassment, pursing your lips to suppress a scream.

Cloud, can you not enable this motherfucker I swear—

"Okay, that's enough of that—Sephi, shut the fuck up right now." You finally get a hold of the tablet with a burst of speed, throwing it in the furthest part of the bed.

Sylus just looks at you with a knowing smug grin, and you wanna smack the it off his stupidly handsome face.

"I am in no obligation to elaborate nor divulge into whatever the fuck that was." You quickly state like an automated message, and Sylus is just laughing at you. "I know that my agony brings you amusement but please just shut up right now."

"I haven't even said anything yet." He says between his chuckling.

"I can feel the judgement brewing in your brain, Sy." You glare at him half-heartedly.

"Could you at least tell me why are you so attached to.. Sephi?" He repeats the nickname you gave him mockingly, and so you smack his chest again.

"I'm going to kill you." You hissed at him. Sylus wants to kiss the scrunch on your nose. You wiggle out of his grasp, but his hand catches your fingers in time, holding you in place. You attempt to tug out of his grasp.

"Where are you going now, sweetie?" He quirks his eyebrow at you, tone amused. Sylus was enjoying this way too much for your sake.

"Out, far away, in another universe so I don't have to deal with you making fun of me." You sneered at him pettily, still tugging your arm away.

Deciding to ride along your silly threat, Sylus asks. "And how do you plan to do that? You can't go anywhere around here without me, kitten."

"I'm flying away with my half winged, crazy, silk-pressed white haired man to help him attain godhood since I am apparently disloyal to you." You spat out pettily, lacking any real venom. Apparently the wrong answer, since Sylus just pulled you back closer, trapping you between his thighs while gripping yours.

He had his eyebrow quirked, crimson gaze laced with something you can't discern maybe because sleepiness was slowly creeping up on you now. Honestly, you're like half aware of what you're saying at this point.

"Don't deny me.." Sylus whispers, almost like a plea instead of a command, breath fanning your skin, raising goosebumps. "Embrace me."

Your eye twitches, reference registering in your mind. "You—How long have you been standing there?!"

You raise your hand to smack him again, but he catches it and keeps it in place over his heart.

"Even if you do leave, sweetie, I'll still be here." He says, the sudden softness slightly catching you off guard. Sylus smiles up at you, not the usual smug one, but pure adoration.

His blood-red eyes were blooming roses as the first dew of sunrise greets its petals—it's pure, unadulterated, natural—like how his heart beats with so much fervor you could feel the thrumming of it under your fingertips like a rushing river. It was overwhelmingly powerful, tempting you to pluck it yourself, thorns digging in your palms. It was almost like you had your hand already buried deep in his chest, his heart pulsing in your grasp, blood pouring out and merging with yours, because you would carve out your own for him too.

"After all, my love, I know you will come back to me." He says with an assurance that shouldn't be possible without sounding pretentious, and yet it got your heartbeat racing, matching his.

Because you were his as much as he was all yours.

"You seem so sure of yourself, huh?" You say instead, feeble way of trying to remain composed after all that, scratching the back of his head lightly the way you know he loves. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. "You're lucky I love you."

"Perhaps I truly am." Sylus draws you closer, placing kisses on your neck, just above an artery. The blood flowing underneath hums against his lips, deciding to gently nip the skin. It made you melt, letting out a shaky sleepy sigh. Your eyelids droop dangerously heavier.

"Seems like your joining me in my sleep, sweetie." Sylus kisses your jaw.

You hum in response, and before you know it, you're curling on his lap again, relishing the welcoming warmth like a kitten and their favorite spot. Sylus swears you're purring.

You smile up at him. "Maybe that was the plan all along."

"Oh? How naughty, ruining your sleep just to blame it on me?"

You yawn, snuggling closer. "I would do anything for you."

He didn't need to know that, but you said so anyways.

He stills for a moment, bated breath, carrying the weight of your words in his embrace. Maybe it was just your groggy murmurings of the moment, but the declaration already sowed itself in his heartstrings, making it skip a beat. The kind that lingers physically for a moment. You were too dangerous, all cutely cuddled up against him to be saying that.

Despite your fading consciousness, you gave him a longing look. Your eyes flickered down where you were mindlessly tracing over his bottom lip, lingering for a moment, then back at his gaze again. It's all he needed to know you were being genuine.

He leaned in for a kiss, savoring the softness of your lips pushing back against his, until it didn't. As soon as Sylus pulled away, you were already softly snoring.

You really were purring.

"Such a kitten." He chuckled.

11:09 ─────────────────────|──

❥ a/n: i definitely got too carried away with sy and raf.. don't blame me i love me howl and raf parallels istg and im a sucker for sylus fluff. zayne got me feeling something all week istg and xavi is my forever baby. let me know what you think but pls be nice c: i'm working on the dads lnds one i swearrrr this just took longer than expected.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more. 

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.” 

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.” 

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could. 

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?” 

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra. 

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs. 

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone. 

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments. 

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned. 

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection. 

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.” 

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement. 

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal. 

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[worldsover]

Well, Now What?

20.5k words

You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.

"I mean, if you're not gonna call her…" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.

Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."

"Oh?"

"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.

Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."

Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"

"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.

His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."

You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."

"What?"

"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."

"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."

"So it's one of those."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."

You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."

You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."

Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.

You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."

Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."

"That's not the point. Does she know?"

He thinks for a moment. "Shit."

It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.

Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."

Pat him once more before leaning away.

"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."

Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."

Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."

"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."

Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."

"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."

"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."

"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"

You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."

"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"

If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"

Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.

But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.

"How do you make it work?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.

"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.

Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"

Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.

So you stay.

"By the way, I've been wondering..."

"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.

"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"

"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.

"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.

"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."

"You really think so?"

Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.

"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"

"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."

"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."

"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.

"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"

Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.

"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.

"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."

Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."

"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.

"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."

You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."

Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"

"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."

"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.

Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."

Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"

"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.

Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"

"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"

Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.

"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.

Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."

"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."

Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.

"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.

"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."

Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."

You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)

"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."

Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.

("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)

"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"

Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.

Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."

"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."

Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.

"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.

"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."

"And what did you say?" Karina asks.

"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.

Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"

Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."

"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.

Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."

"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.

Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.

"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"

Karina nods slowly.

Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."

"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.

"What I'm saying is—"

You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."

"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.

"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."

Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."

You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.

"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.

"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.

"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.

"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.

"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.

You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.

"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."

Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"

"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"

"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"

"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.

One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"W-well..."

It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.

"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"

Your breath falls off a cliff.

"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.

This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.

Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.

"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."

"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."

You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."

Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."

"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."

"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."

The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.

Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.

"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."

"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."

You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."

Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?

"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.

Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.

Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.

Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.

Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.

"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.

You will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.

You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.

"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."

"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"

He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."

"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.

He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."

You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."

"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."

"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.

You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.

"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.

He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.

"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."

"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.

"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.

"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.

"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."

"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."

You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."

"You mean, tell her about Somin?"

"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"

"Yeah, but—"

You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"

Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."

"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.

"Oh. Oh... I see."

You smile. "So you get it now."

"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."

"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."

"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"

"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"

"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.

You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."

He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."

"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."

You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.

A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.

"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.

"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."

Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.

"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.

"Well, Karina..."

"What is it?"

"She's cute."

You laugh."Yeah, I agree."

Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."

You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.

"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.

Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, baby."

"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"

"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"

"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."

"And I've noticed that," you reply.

You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.

Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down. 

"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."

"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"

"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."

"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"

"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."

"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"

"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."

The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.

"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.

"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."

"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."

"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"

"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.

"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"

"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."

"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."

You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."

"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."

You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."

"Hm?"

"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."

Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.

“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.

Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.

Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.

Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"

"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."

She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"

"Fuck yes."

Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"

"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."

Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.

As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.

The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.

Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.

"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."

You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"

"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.

You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.

"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.

You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."

"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"

A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."

"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."

"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.

"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."

"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"

"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.

With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.

"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"

Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."

Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"

Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."

Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"

"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.

"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"

Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."

"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.

"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"

Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."

"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"

"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."

Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."

You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.

"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."

You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"

"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."

"Great for you," you say.

"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.

"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.

"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."

You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.

No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?

You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.

Karina, in this way, is everything.

"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.

"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."

"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."

You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"

"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."

"You don't regret anything?"

"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."

You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."

"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."

You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."

"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"

"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.

"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"

"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"

"Yeah," he says. "We're good."

You clink your beers together. "Great."

Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.

When it comes to girls...

They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.

No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.

It's you and the mess that you've made.

Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.

It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.

At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.

"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.

"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"

Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."

To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"

He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."

You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"

"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."

You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"

"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."

"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."

Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."

"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."

"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."

The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"

You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.

Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."

"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.

She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."

The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.

"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."

A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."

She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."

You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."

"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."

Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."

"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again." 

You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."

"You're right. I want you inside me."

You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."

Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.

"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.

"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.

And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.

"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."

"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.

Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.

"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.

"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."

Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."

Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."

Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.

Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."

Karina blushes. "I'm glad."

"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."

"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.

"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"

"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.

Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."

Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"

"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."

Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.

"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."

Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.

There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.

Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.

"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."

Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."

You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.

"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."

"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."

"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."

Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.

"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"

The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."

Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.

"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"

"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."

Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."

"I..."

"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."

Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."

She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"

Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.

You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."

"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."

Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"

Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.

"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.

Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."

"What did you have in mind?" you ask.

"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.

The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.

"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.

You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."

"Yes, yes, yes..."

The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.

You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.

"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"

"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."

You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.

Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.

"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."

Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?

"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."

Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.

She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."

Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.

Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.

Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."

Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.

"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"

She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.

Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"

"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."

"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."

You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."

Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.

"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"

Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.

You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.

Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."

"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."

"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."

Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.

You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.

"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."

You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.

Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"

"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.

"Mmm… yes," Karina says.

"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."

"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."

"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."

Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.

You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.

"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."

"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."

You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.

"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."

Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.

Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.

"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.

"I want... want to cum."

"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."

Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.

"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."

"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."

You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.

Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.

Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.

"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.

"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.

"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.

"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.

Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."

That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.

"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."

It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.

"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."

Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.

Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.

Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.

You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.

Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?

Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)

If this were a place, you can imagine the city.

By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.

Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.

This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.

There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.

Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.

"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."

"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"

"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."

You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.

"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."

The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.

You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.

Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.

Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.

"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."

Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—

It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.

You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.

Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."

Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.

This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.

Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."

You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.

"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.

"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.

Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.

Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."

Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."

You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.

Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.

You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.

"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."

"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"

"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"

"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.

Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.

Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.

"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."

"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.

Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.

"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.

"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."

You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.

That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:

"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Another sane Levi fic as always.

[chelseeebe]

hot n’ heavy

18+. mdni. smut. breeding kink if you squint! exhusband!eddie

part two to yours, forever! i truly believe they would have three sons and one little girl that comes after r’s second divorce🤭 the p3 to this is my favourite however, i have some pornstar!eddie is reallyyyy want to get out before it’s posted hehe. pls ignore any mistakes i am so tired

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

eddie hadn’t ever lied about you still being the only woman in his life, he’d dated around after the divorce but had never, ever found anyone that came close to you. 

he does suppose that you were together for fourteen years. he feels like at that point, you were stuck together for life. 

and yet, he can’t fucking wait. 

sat on one of wayne’s loungers just waiting for you to walk through that gate and spot her. 

he’d sorta been seeing ashley for the past couple months or so, mostly just hooking up during those dry spells where you were content with your marriage. 

wayne’s annual barbecue was coming up and so he’d had the bright idea to ask her along, truthfully just to get you talking to him again. 

nice girl, pretty too but he knew you’d be furious. 

the kids bounce through the yard first, barely saying hi to eddie first before clambering on top of wayne as they usually did. 

you shuffle through next, the far-too-short dress sitting just around your thighs, a blatant attempt at garnering his attention. though you were no match for him, eddie had the petty game nailed down since 1998. from the moment you’d handed him those divorce papers, he’d taken it upon himself to piss you off as much as humanly possible. 

you haven’t realised yet, made obvious by the wide smile on your face. giving half-assed hugs to the various members of his family that sprawled around the garden, waiting for him last. 

but you don’t hug him, standing in front of the lounge chair with a frown, looking his outfit up and down. “i didn’t realise you were coming,” you quip. 

fucking lie. 

your dress wouldn’t have been half as revealing if you’d actually thought he wasn’t going to be here. 

eddie scoffs, sitting up in his chair, “why wouldn’t i be?” cocking his head to the side, waiting for the perfect moment to introduce ashley.  

“oh i don’t know, thought you’d be too busy pretending you can play guitar,” shrugging sweetly, but not backing off. 

his eyes narrow, biting his tongue to unleash the true beast, “have you met ashley?” gesturing towards the young blonde with a side smirk from hell, “she’s been so excited to meet the kids!”

your brows furrow, lip curling in disgust. he loves even more that you don’t try to hide it, practically retching in front of her face.  

sharp eyes flicker over to her, “nice to meet you.. ashley,” but your hand doesn’t extend for her to shake, instead you flounce off without waiting for her reply. 

“dave not here?” eddie jeers, holding the cool bottle of beer just before his snarling lips. 

“he’s at work,” you snap back, “you know what that is?” snarky in all your glory, sitting on the furthest, most opposite chair you could find. 

that’s alright, he can almost see right up your dress from here, purposely no doubt. 

wayne must have found that hilarious, bursting into a maniacal laughter, never on the side of his own flesh and blood. 

pfft. 

whatever. 

it wouldn’t be long before your dress was bunched up against your hips and-

“-eddie?” ashley barks from beside, snapping him out of maladaptive wet daydream, “can you show me the bathroom?” batting her eyelashes. 

holy fuck. the regret of ever inviting her had began to seep in, because in actuality, it had done absolutely nothing worthwhile in making you jealous. 

he nods, concealing the annoyance on his face by clearing his throat, guiding the poor girl past his relatives judging eyes and into the house. 

she grabs ahold of his hand, trying to pull him into the bathroom alongside of her. blinking rapidly when he stays put. 

“my kids are here,” he whispers, yanking his hand back, “i really can’t,” he could, he had a hundred times. just not with her. 

she pouts, dropping her shoulders in a huff, quickly pulling the door closed as eddie rushes off outside again. he couldn’t have you thinking he was screwing around with her now.

your eyes follow him from the door to his seat, wayne leaning over to whisper not-so-quietly about him.

he can read something along the lines of midlife crisis, wayne’s bellowing laugh after pretty much solidifies that theory. eddie’d be much more angry if he didn’t find it so endearing, wayne loved you more than eddie did, he was certain of that. 

wayne pats your shoulder before sending a sharp glance at eddie, a warning sign he’d seen, and ignored, many a times. 

-

an hour of meaningless banter and fake affection later, eddie finds his opportunity. 

you had disappeared off under the guise of helping in the kitchen, but he knows it’s an invite of sorts. you weren’t as nonchalant as you thought you were, sliding your gaze over his and then immediately at the open door.

a blind man could’ve picked up on that for christ sake.

he saunters off through the door, no doubt you were in there messing about with the salads or doing the dishes like you normally did. the garden is too loud for anyone to realise anyway, he figures he’s got a good fifteen minutes before anyone questions where you’ve both gone. 

you glance up at him walking through the door but choose not to speak, plating up the anaemic looking potato salad his aunt had made. 

“you not speaking to me today?” standing on the opposite side of the island, picking at the bowl of chips. 

“i have nothing to say to you,” turning up your nose to continue dumping the grey slop into a bowl. 

“that’s a lie,” eddie chuckles, leaning over the marbled counter, “i know you have loads of things you want to say to me today.”

you look up briefly, staring daggers into his soul, “why don’t you go back outside with your little girlfriend and leave me alone?”

eddie sighs rather sarcastically, “one, not my girlfriend and two, i’d rather be in here with you,” walking his fingers over the counter towards you. 

you scoff, but he knows you’re not serious because if you were, you’d have thrown the spoon at his head and laughed as it got tangled in his curls. 

“c’mon,” he beckons, nodding towards the stairs. 

when wayne had announced that he’d be selling the trailer in favour of a house, eddie think he physically jumped for joy. 

living with wayne and a pregnant you in that tiny metal box had began to drive him utterly insane, especially once wayne had retired and he had an approximate five minute window to have sex every day. 

you glance out of the window, making sure that no one would follow you up the stairs, before sighing and begrudgingly trailing behind him. 

“don’t worry, they won’t even notice,” slipping into the box room and shutting the door as discreetly as possible. 

to be honest, you’d lived in this room just as long as he had, it was yours as much as it was his. some of your posters still stay stuck to the walls, pictures of the two of you that you’d framed still linger. 

eddie waits with baited breath for you to start, prepared for the inevitable rant that was just bubbling to fall out of your lips. 

you stand poised at the other side for he room, hands on hips, ready to scold, “you’re seriously pathetic if you think bringing some kid would make me jealous,” clicking your tongue against your teeth, eyes flicking up and down his casual stature. 

there it is. 

the tirade of insults he’s been waiting for all night. 

“i fucking knew that’d work,” guffawing loudly, “you’re so angry and i love it,” swigging his beer with far too much confidence. 

“i’m not angry, i’m disgusted. there’s a difference,” crossing your arms firmly over your chest. 

“oh please,” rolling his eyes, “you’re married for fuck sake,” placing the bottle on his old dresser, the fun was just about to begin. 

“yeah. i am,” you nod, the deep furrow of your brow only exciting him further, “to someone my own age, not some fucking teenager.”

“she’s twenty three, actually,” in such a matter-of-fact tone that it makes you seethe, launching forward to twist his collar between your fingers. 

“you disgust me,” eyes like slits and a snarl that some rottweilers would be jealous of. 

“isn’t it a bit late for you to start lying like this?” a heavy hand meets your back, pressing your body into his as your heartbeats collide. 

“fuck you,” moving forward to connect your lips the same time he does, an angry battle that consists of guttural growls and an animalistic need to dominate the kiss. 

“just ask me next time sweets,” grabby with his hands as they get comfy on your hips, performing a waltz around the tiny bedroom floor to lie your body sideward on the edge of the bed, legs wrapping tight around his back. 

“everyone’s here,” you breathe, glancing warily towards the window, “what if they hear?”

“pssht, not like we’ve never done this before,” 

this bedroom had once witnessed the most explicit things all the while wayne was downstairs and hopefully oblivious. 

eddie’s hand glides over your thigh and under your dress, lifting higher until it’s bunched up at your hips, just as he’d pictured. 

“wear these for me?” he remarks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your deliberately worn lacy panties.

“mhm,” lifting your hips as they come down, hanging off of your ankle. 

he breaks apart for what feels like too long, rushing to get his belt unbuckled and his jeans down, before hoisting your calves onto his shoulder, your knees damn near touching your ears as he comes down on top. 

“jesus christ eds, i’m not twenty five anymore,” gripping onto his forearm for leverage. 

eddie scoffs, running the leaking head of his cock from your clit to your hole, delighted with the way you shiver and whine. 

he sighs as his cock slides in, taking one last glance at the window, he wouldn’t last long anyway, not in this position. 

“fuucking hell,” you breathe, tightening your grip on his quivering arms, letting your eyes fall shut. 

he’s messy, sloppy in the way his hips move, pressed flat against your glistening cunt. if this didn’t get you pregnant, he gives up. 

“i like it when you’re jealous,” he pants, brushing the stray strands of hair from your sticky forehead to get a good glimpse of your fluttering eyes. 

your nails dig further into his skin, it’d probably hurt if he weren’t balls deep inside of you, “fuck off,” your insults punctuated by the slick sounds of your body’s meeting. 

he moves slow, grunting each time his tip nudges against your sweet spot. fuck. the downright pornographic noises of your pussy wrapped him makes him animalistic with need. 

schlickschlickschlick in time with the old mattress and his balls slapping against your ass. 

your hands move up above your head, helplessly grabbing at the blanket, fingers untwining in the fabric. 

“ohmygod yes,” head thrown back against the mattress, seemingly no longer bothered about the family gathering just outside. 

despite being an incoherent babbling mess, your eyes meet his, “don’t.. ever bring her here again,” your whines becoming too loud to hear your words clearly. 

eddie slaps his palm over your drooling mouth, but he nods, more than happy to comply if it meant he could fuck you like this every time. 

“only did it.. to make you jealous,” losing his momentum, the churning in his stomach becoming too much to carry on. 

you’re too fucked out to reply, whimpering into his palm, the bedsheets twisted between your fingertips. if no one had heard you, it would be nothing short of a miracle, your gasps only partly muffled by his hand. 

you clench around his cock, calves trembling upon his skin while your hips move on their own, cumming around his cock, his sweaty palm working overtime to silence your loud mouth. 

eddie doesn’t last much longer, biting down onto his lower lip so he doesn’t alert the whole house to your precarious position. 

he’s shaking, collapsing on top of you as his seed paints your walls, saying a silent prayer that this time is the time. 

“oh.. fuck,” he heaves, sloppily pumping his hips into your leaking cunt before pulling out completely, well aware that you had ran over the fifteen minute allotted time slot he had given you. 

wayne would have noticed a whole ten minutes ago, surely waiting to make his snarky comments. 

he lets go of your mouth, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before getting up and as a gentleman does, slides your panties back up and your skirt down. 

it filled eddie with far too much satisfaction to know you’d have to walk downstairs with a skewed walk and a pussy full of his cum, everybody else none the wiser. 

“don’t walk down together,” you bite, running frantic fingers through your unkempt hair, attempting to clean the smudged outline of your lipstick. 

“nobody’s gonna care,” re-buttoning his jeans as he takes a smug sip of warm beer. 

you spin on your heel, shooting daggers at his grinning eyes, “your girlfriend might,” and with that you’re gone, slipping out of the door in a cloud of tangled hair and creased fabric. 

god, he loves you. 

far more than should be allowed for two people who are divorced. 

it was wise for you to go down first, you were a much better liar than eddie ever was. 

he makes a slow walk downstairs, his belt clinking rather conspicuously as he pulls it tight. 

wayne stands in the shadows at the bottom, waiting until he’s close to make him piss his pants before speaking, “i don’t even wanna know,” shaking his head at his petulant nephew, “don’t ever leave me with that girl again,” a warning, but his eyes are soft, almost cracking as the pieces click into place in his brain. 

“i wasn’t.. i didn’t do anything,” but his twitching lips give him away, “and i’m gonna take her home, don’t worry,” trying to shuffle past wayne unscathed. 

his uncle reaches out, smearing his thumb across eddie’s chin, “you left your fuckin’ lipstick on, dumbass,” only half-disappointed in his nephew, because eddie, and everybody out in that garden knows wayne’d be the first person to celebrate the two of you getting back together. 

he, rather unsuccessfully, suppresses his grin, walking into the kitchen like he was the luckiest man alive. 

you stand at the counter, back to him, poking holes into juice boxes, your hair a sudden nest and your dress sitting higher than it had before. anyone would think you’d been doing something you shouldn’t.

he slides up right behind you, “i’m gonna go take her home.. are you staying?” hand threatening to creep under your dress again. 

“yeah, we’ll be here,” you confirm without ever looking up. 

“i’ll come back then,” he didn’t want to be here without you, you’d done these things as a pair for long that it felt disrespectful to ever entertain the idea of doing it alone. 

as he turns, he meets wayne’s eye who had either been stood watching the entire time or had only seen his hand grab your ass, either way it wasn’t great. 

his uncle’s eyes say enough, silent in both their judgement and approval. 

eddie shrugs, walking back into the garden with a terribly hidden smirk and a sickening excitement to get back and see you again.  

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[yeosanitycheck]

boyfriend!ateez reaction to you receiving a love letter from someone else

☾pairing: bf!ateez x reader

☾warnings!: suggestive dialogue, mature themes, jealousy

☾a/n: enjoy ;), always open to requests etc.

Hongjoong🌶️ 

Hongjoong finds out that you have received a love letter, and his initial reaction is cool and collected. He doesn’t see the point in getting upset right away, but he is curious.  

“So, are you going to tell me what’s in the letter?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s confident in your relationship, so he’s not worried about you leaving him, but he definitely wants to read the letter to see what the other person has to say.  

You let him skim through the letter willingly, and he laughs at it.  

“I mean, points for effort…but this is rookie-level literature.”  

He glances up at you with a smirk.  

“Babe, if this is what I’m up against, I’m not worried.”  

He then crumples up the paper with a playful grin.  

“Think I’ll send them a response and give some pointers—for educational purposes, of course!”

---

Seonghwa🧚

Seonghwa would feel a little unsettled but not overly jealous. When he finds out about the love letter, his first reaction is to ask you how you feel about it.  

“You got a love letter? How do you feel about that?”  

He trusts you, but a part of him feels protective. He suggests ignoring the letter if you don’t reciprocate the feelings. With a soft reassuring smile, he adds,  

“It’s nice to know others see how amazing you are…”  

He leans in closer, whispering in your ear,  

“…but remember, I love you the most.”  

He wraps his arms around you in a comforting hug, his voice dropping to a whisper.  

“Though…if they try to send another letter, I might have to let them know the position is already filled.”

---

Yunho☂️

Yunho’s reaction is more lighthearted, even if he feels a bit jealous. Upon hearing you got a love letter, he immediately starts teasing you.  

“A love letter? Wow, I thought I was the only one with great taste!”  

He pretends to be hurt in an exaggerated tone to make you laugh.  

“Looks like I’ll need to step up my game before you run off with your secret admirer.”  

He suddenly turns serious with a fake gasp.  

“Wait…do I need to send myself a love letter just to compete?”  

Yunho begins to pace the room, clearly adding to his show.  

“Dear Yunho, you’re amazing, and no one can compare to you. Love, Yunho. P.S. Please never leave me for some random admirer.”  

He laughs at his own joke and finally wraps you in his arms.  

“Just kidding—you’re stuck with me.”

---

Yeosang🪽 

Yeosang wouldn’t show much outward jealousy, but he’d be quietly bothered by the love letter. He knows you wouldn’t stray, but he feels the need to address it.  

He leans back on the couch after hearing about the letter, his expression calm but thoughtful.  

“You got a love letter, huh?”  

“Well, I can’t blame them for having good taste.”  

He shifts closer to you on the couch, placing his hand lightly on your back.  

“But I hope they know that you’re not available.”  

His tone is still calm, but there’s a subtle protectiveness in his words. He looks into your eyes, his gaze steady.  

“If they try anything else, I might have to write them a little letter of my own…letting them know exactly how things are.”  

He gives you a small smile and gently squeezes your hand.  

“I’m not worried, though. I know you’re mine.”  

Then a playful glint flickers in his eyes.  

“And if they don’t know, they’ll find out soon enough.”

---

San🗻

San feels protective upon learning about the love letter. He wraps his arms around you immediately, half-joking, half-serious.  

“A love letter? Really? Guess I need to up my game. Should I write a letter every day? Or maybe serenade you outside your window at 3 a.m.?”  

He grins and plants a playful kiss on your cheek.  

“Though, I gotta say, no letter’s gonna beat the real thing.”  

San’s voice is full of playful energy, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind it. He holds you closely, giving you a soft smile.  

“Maybe I should send them a picture of us together—but at the end of the day, I know who your heart belongs to, and it’s staying right here with me.”

---

Mingi🩰 

Mingi is dramatically over the top upon finding out about the love letter. He falls back onto the couch as if the news has knocked the wind out of him.  

“A love letter? To you? I’ve been replaced, haven’t I!?” he groans, covering his face with his hands.  

He peeks through his fingers, faking an exaggerated pout.  

“Am I not good enough? Should I start writing poetry and serenading you in public?”  

He laughs and pulls you into a playful hug but suddenly pulls away, looking at you with mock suspicion.  

“Wait…was it a really good letter? Should I be worried?”  

Before you can answer, Mingi gasps.  

“No! Don’t tell me! I can’t take the heartbreak!”  

Finally, Mingi breaks into a wide grin, pulling you close again and resting his head on your shoulder.  

“I’m just kidding. If they’re trying to win you over with sweet nothings, they should know I’m the one who gets to whisper all the naughty things in your ear.”

---

Wooyoung👹

Wooyoung’s reaction is all about playful possessiveness.  

“A love letter? Seriously? Well, someone clearly doesn’t know how out of their league you are,” he says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.  

He wraps an arm around your waist.  

“Do I need to start leaving notes in your lunchbox or maybe hide them in your coat pocket? Just to remind you who the real romantic is here.”  

Wooyoung tilts his head, thinking for a moment, then flashes a mischievous grin.  

“Actually, maybe I should send them a thank-you note—‘Thanks for helping me realize I need to step up my game. But don’t worry, I’ve got this.’”  

He winks and pulls you closer.  

“But seriously, babe…they don’t stand a chance.”  

Then he leans in to whisper,  

“Maybe we should write them back together…just to give them an idea of how happy we are.”  

Wooyoung laughs and gives you a kiss afterward.

---

Jongho🧸

Jongho would be quietly protective. He wouldn’t say much at first, just nodding when you first tell him about the letter.  

His voice is gentle but firm.  

“I see. You got a love letter… How do you feel about it?”  

He’s confident in your relationship but wants to ensure you’re comfortable with how you handle it. He reaches out to hold your hand, giving a reassuring squeeze.  

“I’m not worried, but I just want to make sure you’re okay with all of this.”  

With a small gummy smile, he leans closer.  

“But they should know…actions speak louder than words, and I don’t need a letter to show how much I care.”  

His tone softens as he gets up to go to the desk with pen and paper.  

“I’m going to write a reply, actually: ‘Thanks for the attempt. But no.’ they need to know you’re already with someone who’s a bit more…hands-on.”

After writing his reply, he lets out a quiet laugh as he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.  

“But honestly, I’m not worried—I need to see the return address on that silly letter, though.”  

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

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