#because where I live at is technically a city (or use to live at but same county so)

[sollucets]

sigh. slaps self across face No you would have a bad time suddenly driving six hours to go to illinois for a faraway seat for a concert thats in three weeks alone. no you cant really afford it even if the ticket’s not so bad, youd still need gas and parking and food and probably to stay overnight. noooo. AUGH

[deityofhearts]

even if it’s not very far, the idea of moving away from where I’m at now (like the general county) seems very exciting and is like idk I think a step in the right direction

[kimmkitsuragi]

ughhhh i literally cannot take how my classes start tmrw and i will have to work on a stupid project for another whole semester............ *applies for masters programs while saying this*

[genderkoolaid]

Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.

— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive

[robertreich]

Project 2025: The MAGA Plan to Take Your Freedom 

A second Trump term would be more dangerous than the first — in part because of something called Project 2025, a plan to extend Trump’s grip into every part of your life.

Trump’s gross incompetence in his first term wasn’t all bad. It kept some of his most extreme goals out of reach. That’s why his inner circle, including more than 20 officials from his first term, have written a step-by-step playbook to make a second term brutally efficient.

At nearly a thousand pages, it’s longer than most Stephen King novels, and a lot scarier. The Associated Press wasn’t kidding when they called it “a plan to dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision,”

Project 2025 is a road map to ban abortion, give greedy corporate oligarchs everything they want, and strip Americans of our most basic freedoms — all without needing any support from Congress.

There’s more to it than I can get into, but here are three things I want you to know.

#1 How would Project 2025 work?

Every nonpartisan government agency would be turned into an arm of the MAGA agenda.

Some of the worst things Trump reportedly tried to do as president — like having the military  shoot protesters or seize voting machines to overturn the election  — were only stopped because sensible leaders in the military or the professional civil service refused to go along with it.

In a second term, there would be no sensible leaders in the military or professional civil service because Trump would fire anyone more loyal to the Constitution than to him.

Trump started the process in October 2020 with an executive order that would have let him fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA henchmen. I’m talking about traditionally non-political positions, like scientists at scientific agencies and accountants at the IRS.

Trump could not act on the executive order then because he lost the election. If he wins now, he’s pledged to pick up where he left off and go further…

TRUMP: …making every executive branch employee fireable by the President of the United States.

#2 Project 2025 is about controlling Americans’ lives & bodies

Restricting abortion is such a big part of Project 2025 that the word “abortion” appears 198 times in the plan.

Trump largely made good on his campaign promise to ban abortion.

Thanks to Trump’s Supreme Court justices, 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age live in states with abortion bans. Project 2025 would make that even worse, without needing new laws from Congress.

Page 458 of the playbook calls for a MAGA-controlled FDA to reject medical science and reverse approval of the medications used in 63% of all abortions, effectively banning them.

Page 455 plans “abortion surveillance” and the creation of a registry that could put people who cross state lines to get an abortion at risk of prosecution.

Another way around Congress is to enforce arcane laws that are still technically on the books. Page 562 plans for a MAGA-controlled Justice Department to enforce the Comstock Act of 1873, which bans the mailing of “anything designed, adapted, or intended for producing abortion.” This could be used to block the shipment of any medications or medical instruments needed for abortions.

But Project 2025’s control of American families goes even further. It plans for government agencies to define life as beginning at conception — a position at odds with the process used for in vitro fertilization.

Page 451 declares that “Families comprised of a married mother, father, and their children are the foundation of a well-ordered nation and healthy society,” thereby stigmatizing single parents, same-sex couples, unmarried coparents, and childless couples.

Project 2025 even takes a stand against adoption, declaring on p. 489 that “all children have a right to be raised by the men and women who conceived them.”

#3 Project 2025 would turn America into a police state.

Maybe you live in a blue city or state, where you think plans like arresting teachers and librarians over banned books (which is on p. 5) could never happen. Well, guess again.

Trump has said one of the big things he’d do differently in a second term is override mayors and governors to take over local law enforcement.

Page 553 lays out how to do this, and even plans for Trump’s Justice Department to prosecute district attorneys he disagrees with.

Immigration enforcement is to be conducted like a war, with the military deployed within the U.S., and millions of undocumented immigrants rounded up and placed into newly constructed holding camps. This is outlined starting on p. 139.

Members of the Project 2025 team also reportedly told the Washington Post about plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to deploy the military against anti-Trump protests.

There is much more to Project 2025. There are more than a hundred pages of anti-environmental policies that would help Trump make good on what he reportedly promised to do for oil executives if they contribute a billion dollars to his reelection. It would make drilling and mining a top national priority while killing clean energy projects, barring the EPA from regulating carbon emissions, and replacing all government climate scientists with climate deniers.

There are even cartoonishly cruel plans like slaughtering wild horses. Yes, that’s really in there on p. 528.

I thought I understood the stakes of this election, but reading this plan… Well, it gave me chills. If Trump gets the chance to put this plan into place, he will. The country it would turn America into would be hard for any of us to recognize.

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

[willowedspirits]

Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

[cursedcatvibes]

SWEET BELIEFS

re2r!zombie leon x survivor reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: Leon turns into a zombie and has to learn to navigate how to live as one, while doing this he comes across you and your group of survivors. What will he do when he eats your now dead boyfriend's brains and falls head over heels in love with you enough to make you become like him?

tags/warnings: 18+ only please. I don’t want any controversy, minors DNI. Smut, Angst? Fluff for a paragraph or two. Descriptions of blood and gore. This could technically be considered a bit of Necrophilia? Implied suicide. Pain kink, Leon kinda takes a few bites out of reader. Slight non-con. Mentions of breeding but it doesn’t happen. AFAB reader, I tried to keep it as gn as possible.

A/N: hii so like i am absolutely awkward when it comes to writing smut to be honest, like it’s a bunch of thoughts that have to go into positions and the dialogue. i’m still a little unsure how to work tumblr and i feel so old. I took very very heavy inspo from warm bodies, one of my personal favorite movies. (I pulled up the script and everything so if you've seen the movie and are like hey.. word for word, bar for bar, YOURE NOT WRONG)

Songs I listened to while writing (just so you can picture some scenes with what songs I was feeling):

Sweet Beliefs - Cyann and Ben

Yamaha - Delta Spirit

Midnight City -M83

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

happy reading!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon was a determined man; he could do mainly anything he set his mind to if he tried, and he did. He would do everything in his power possible to stop the spread of this virus, well, he tried anyway. He knew that he couldn’t do much to begin with, but he always had a small sliver of hope that he could. Stupidly he braved his way forward after the car exploded, promising Claire to meet at the police station. How naive. Is the two words he uses as he thinks back to that same day.

He held his Matilda gun in both hands as he made his way towards the front gate of the R.P.D. He grunted audibly as he shut the gate and then proceeded to lock it. He turned around to face the front of the building in partial awe, a bitter expression souring his face. This is where he was meant to work, to protect and serve the people and yet he never got a chance to properly even start to accomplish that task. 

With a heavy sigh Leon stepped into the building and looked around the main lobby, taking note of the shudder to his right that had a large warning with blood splattered on the floor, he grimaced and walked up to the small computer on the front desk, watching the cameras to see some guy flailing around a small notebook with the promise of a way out inside of it. 

Leon typed away on the computer to find out which room the guy was in and felt his heart sink a bit when he realized it was being blocked off by that same shudder he had saw earlier which was definitely not ideal but if he wanted to help get a cure he had to first escape with as many survivors as possible, so he inhaled sharply and opened the shudder by a lever with shaky hands, his grip on his gun tightening.

The shudder only opened enough for him to crawl under, so he pulled his flashlight out and crawled under while shining the light around, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stood up from the floor and made his way to the room where the guy was, which unfortunately was behind another shudder. 

Leon holstered his gun quickly and manually forced the shudder open enough to pull the other officer out from, but unfortunately he was too late because the zombies had caught up to the guy on the other side and all the pulling from both ends along with the pressure of the shudder on the guys pelvic area ended up splitting him into two, leaving Leon with the upper half and the zombie with the delicious bottom half. 

He immediately felt sick, just staring at the blood and organs leaking out from the guy's poor body. Yet he forced himself to look away once he grabbed the small notebook from the guy's dead hand. He gasped softly when he saw that he needed to collect three medallions from different statutes and put them into the main statue in the lobby to unlock a secret path. 

Leon quickly pocketed the notebook and stood up, silently disappointed in himself for not saving the guy and making a quiet promise he would find a cure and try to save everyone else. He turned towards the door he entered, only for the door to swing open and a zombie to come barreling through, without hesitation Leon shot the zombie in the head and darted off, his main goal? Get back to the damn shudder that led him to this damn area in the first place.

As he ran, he bumped into two zombies, he panicked and shot one in the head and kicked the other one in the stomach to stagger back enough to fall on the floor. Leon heard a window break and started running towards the shudder, he could see the main lobby light peeking out from beneath the small sliver.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to force the shudder open, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Yet he couldn’t get it open much with just his hands so he pushed his upper body through it and placed his palms flat on the floor, forcing it open enough with his back, almost crying with relief as he crawled through.

That relief was short lived as his leg was grabbed from the earlier zombie and before Leon could try and either shoot it or attempt to squirm away he felt this horrible pain shoot through his leg. A loud scream erupting from his lungs, he scrambled for his gun and shot the zombie, standing up quickly to force the shudder shut. He whimpered in pain as he limped over to the medical beds in the main lobby. 

He could see the blood seeping through his pant leg and when he rolled the fabric up, he almost vomited at the sight of his flesh missing. Apparently while he was crawling and squirming it caused his pant leg to bunch up a bit to expose skin and a bit of his pants fabric was missing from where he was bit. All the hopes of saving everyone and being the help people needed went down the drain. He’d seen enough zombie movies to know he was going to turn within a few hours and this whole thing was pointless and stupid. 

He glanced down at his gun, breathing heavily as he brought it up to his temple. “I won’t become those... Things.” He whispered to no one but himself, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too chicken shit to kill himself. He burst out into tears and laid back onto the bed, sniffling softly to himself. He failed. For the first time in his life, he failed to protect someone. 

That was the last thing he remembered as a human as his eyes got droopy, fluttering shut every once in a while, before finally shutting, taking his last breath. 

When he awoke, he gasped as he rose up, clenching his hand over his heart, taking no note of the fact his heart was no longer beating anymore. He glanced down at his hands and saw they were paler than usual, he figured it must’ve been a nightmare or maybe he was immune. Otherwise, how did he survive a whole zombie bite? 

He got off the bed and grabbed his gun once more he was able to find a sharp object to use to pry open a door, he carefully stalked through the West Office, pulling his lips into a thin line as he tried to be as quiet as possible but when he stepped onto an empty plastic bottle his head shot up towards the two zombies in the room that roused up from their sleep. Leon fumbled for his gun getting ready to shoot because he was not about to be bitten or eaten alive, only for the zombie sleeping at the police desk to shush him. “Sleeping... Shush.” The zombie grumbled tiredly before going back to sleep. 

Leon’s jaw dropped in awe, why hadn’t they attacked? Why could he understand them now?! All the scenarios ran through his head at once and he could only land on one possible one. With a panicked look on his face, he rushed out and sprinted up to the second-floor bathroom, the zombies lingering in the hallway ignoring him, grunting and groaning out broken English to each other. 

He threw the bathroom door open and walked towards the mirror, finally looking at himself. It finally made sense to him now. It only took one look at himself to clearly see that he too was now a zombie, a hideous creature like the rest of them. Yet he didn’t look busted and beaten up, all his facial features were still intact and none of his skin started rotting, although some joints of his were stiff, assuming the rigor mortis set in for him if he were to be an actual dead corpse, but he wasn't. 

His reality came crashing down on himself and he couldn’t even cry, dead things don’t have emotions anymore.

-

Upon watching the news for a few days, months, years? He wasn’t sure anymore, everyday blended into one and after a while he stopped caring, he was dead now. He made a few zombie friends, those…people? Helped him adjust to the new life he was forced into fairly quickly. Almost like a family, every zombie was family, it didn't matter if you weren’t related or what you looked like, if you were a walking corpse you qualified as family. 

But if you were human, you were considered bad, an enemy, a meal. He learned that humans managed to build a wall to keep zombies out while they tried to start civilization anew, hoping to repopulate. Though some rebellious teens often snuck out beyond the walls and became a meal or turned into a zombie, or people ransacked through old buildings in hopes of coming across supplies, fortunately for zombies they could sense humans by smell from miles away, just most were lazy and didn’t want to die a whole second time for a worthless meal, unless the humans were in groups. 

Just like your group.

Out ransacking a place for medicine for some members of your community that fell ill and just extra medicine just in general. Leon was rather hungry as he walked with his usual horde of zombies towards the building you and your friends were in. He was quite happy because it smelled delicious. (Having grown accustomed to eating humans at this point.)

It didn’t take long for the horde to break down the door to the room you were in before they started attacking, gun fire ringing through the air, yet if it wasn’t a headshot, it didn’t matter much. Leon made eye contact with you when a zombie in front of him got shot in the head. Once he locked his eyes with you, he was smitten, he hadn’t felt like this since the day he arrived in the city. He felt… determined. He was absolutely fascinated with you enough to spare your life from being taken by him, he watched your beautiful eyes widen before sliding away behind a counter to hide. 

The moment was short lived as some annoying guy shot him, Leon growled and pounced on the guy, ripping him to shreds within seconds, eating the yummy brains he got through hard work, blood all over his mouth, hands, and clothes. As he chewed on some of the guys' brains, he indulged in the memories he got from them, for some reason if you consumed the brains of a human you get to see, experience, and feel all their past memories stored in that part of the brain.

Yet as he silently ate the brain’s he started seeing you in this guys’ memories, your sweet laugh, the soft and tender kisses between you both, even when you guys had sex. Leon’s eyes snapped open at the last part, gasping softly at the stirring in his loins. It wasn’t strong, no. But it was very faint, and for a moment he felt human again. 

It didn’t take a miracle for Leon to figure out he ate your boyfriend, he gulped down the brains in his mouth and pocketed the rest, all while chaos ensued around him, people dying, gunfire, stabbing, crying, shouting. None of it mattered. He could feel the amount of love your boyfriend had for your coursing through his veins as he crawled over to you. 

He saw the look of horror on your face as he spotted you, slowly crawling over to you because your gun had jammed, and you ran out of stuff to defend yourself with. He sat right in front of you and watched as you leaned back with a scared and disgusted look on your face. He frowned slightly and leaned closer, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek, making sure to smear you in your now dead boyfriend's blood.

In a hoarse and cracked voice Leon then spoke up. “S-Safe... Now.” He stuttered out, it had been a while since he had to use that word that he almost forgot it. He wanted to keep you safe, he now claimed you. It didn’t take long for the other zombies to grab the brains and other pieces of human body parts before they got ready to leave, sniffing around to make sure they couldn’t smell any more alive humans. 

He carefully took your hand and placed his bloodied finger over your lips. “Shh... Come.” He muttered softly, it hit him that he hadn’t spoken in full sentences or English in a while now, zombies understood each other by just grunting or groaning, they did speak in broken English sometimes. 

“What?” You whispered in confusion as he helped you up and walked you alongside the pack of zombies. He held onto you tightly with an expressionless face, guiding you along with the group all the way back to the police station, very determined to keep you as his own. He took you to a small space that no one really lingered at. Luckily, he had claimed this space, so no other zombies dared to go back there out of respect for when Leon wanted to be alone. The other zombies didn’t suspect you either, to them; if you smelled like you belonged then they thought you were one of them, plus they’re brainless idiots too, who is gonna know the difference if they don’t have the intelligence to figure it out.

Leon stared at you with uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it was really the best idea to bring you back here of all places. What he did know was that he was super happy to even have a human in his vicinity, even if well you did attempt to kill him.

“This is... home...” Leon said softly, crouching down in front of you on the floor, trying to figure out how to explain he wasn't going to eat you. He pointed at you and then himself, chomping his teeth a few times. Cringing internally when you looked even more horrified, so he repeated the motion once more. “Not... eat.” He mouthed quietly with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Keep you safe.” He stated firmly, his eyes darting away from your gaze awkwardly. He got up and searched the room for some canned goods he had stored away when he first turned into a zombie. Eating humans disgusted him and he really didn’t wanna try to figure it out, so he tried to eat normal food, but that was never no use. He always spat it out with a disgusted look on his face, it tasted horrible.

He found a large can of fruits, smiling happily as he brought it over to you with a knife. You shakily took both items from his hands, being extremely cautious around him still because you were still unsure. Plus, it’s not like he looked like a model, you were sure that if he wasn’t covered in blood and didn’t have a few pieces of his cheek missing he would be close to a model. 

He was cute in a sense, like a dog almost. But you didn’t trust him, not yet at least. Zombies were the things you were warned about. With a reluctant sigh you stabbed the knife into the top of the can and ended up prying it open. You glanced up at him as you used your fingers as a spoon, catching his eyes dart away nervously. 

You pulled your lips into a thin line before letting out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re not all that bad, Mr. Zombie.” You snorted, watching Leon sit down in front of you. He scratched gently under his chin, a habit he never grew out of even when he was undead. He also learned that if he scratched too hard then his skin would fall off. 

Which is why it looks like a cat scratched the side of his cheek; it would’ve been a cool scar if it healed. But he was dead... So, nothing could scar... Or heal.

“My name...” He murmured, trying to think back on what his name actually was. It had been so long since he actually heard his name or even said his name that he forgot what it was. You on the other hand perked up a little bit. “You have a name?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter. He nodded and tried to think back on it. “L...” He elongated the first letter of his name because that’s the only thing that came to what little mind he had left. 

“Leonard? Lachlan? Landon? Leroy? Lawrence?” You started listing off different names that started with an L that came to mind, hoping one would stick but he just kind of shook his head before blinking a few times. “Familiar.” He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head, he almost had it but just as soon as he thought he did he lost his train of thought.

You sighed and ran your clean-Ish hand through your hair, eyes roaming over his body before you saw what looked to be an imprint of a wallet in his pocket. Your eyes widened slightly, and Leon noticed your gaze at his pants. He got excited for a moment, thinking you were checking him out or trying to look at his dick. He would gladly show you if you wanted!

He watched with excitement as you moved your hand out to his crotch area, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared! What if you didn’t like what you saw? Could he even have sex? So many questions racked his brain, each making him more excited than the last. Until... Your hand swerved to the left of his pants, aiming for his pocket as you tapped the stiff object. His face dropped in disappointment, but what was he thinking? Why would you even want to think about such an ugly hideous monster in such an intimate way? “Can I?” You nudged your head towards his pocket, and he nodded in slight defeat. 

You took out the wallet and flipped it open, looking at his ID. If you thought he was partially cute before, he was definitely cute now. You had to hide the blush that was threatening to sprout on your cheeks, quickly shaking it off. You redirected your attention where it was supposed to be aimed at. His name. 

“Huh. Leon Scott Kennedy.” You murmured aloud, watching Leon perk up with excitement as his name came back to his brain. “Yes! My name...Leon!” He pointed at himself happily again. He nodded and gently took the wallet from your hands. 

His eyes settled on the ID photo, and he felt a small wave of sadness wash over him, it wasn’t even his fault he turned but he supposed he turned in the least painful way possible, the most unscathed too. Some people had their limbs pulled off their body and some people had been halfway eaten alive because the damn zombie wanted their organs and not the brain. 

Yet he felt this was the closest he had come to crying ever since he turned into a zombie. He had tried everything he could do in his power to cry, and none of it worked at all. It mostly just damped his mood.

But even now he could not get that tear he so desperately wanted to fall from his eye. He shut his wallet and stuffed it into his pants pocket again, looking away from you awkwardly. He was going to say something until he watched you look out the window with your own longing look.

He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, plus he definitely didn’t want to be called or considered creepy. So, he turned around and pulled out some of the stashed away brains in his jacket pocket, he popped a big piece into his mouth like it was gum. He was able to divulge in a few new memories that your boyfriend had.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he could see your dad happily welcoming your boyfriend into the family, having a serious conversation while also celebrating your dead mom's anniversary. Then the memory faded out until he came back to reality because you had started talking to him. 

“I want to go home, Leon.” You stated firmly, your gaze still peering out the window for a bit longer before turning around to stare at him. “It’s n-not safe...” He warned you once more that going outside was not a good idea at all and you were stubborn and set on leaving. 

You sighed rather heavily and rubbed your face as you tried to figure how to explain it to him because he was quite literally not the brightest tool in the shed, and it wasn’t even on purpose either. “I get that.” You paused before continuing. “And look… I know that you ‘saved’ my life. And I'm grateful for that. But you walked me into this place. So, I know that you can walk me out again.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you waited for his response, you had a solid argument through and through. Leon knew that but didn’t want to let you go.

His poor brain scrambled for an answer, he didn’t wanna lose you. “H…h… have to wait. They… They’ll notice.” He blurted out as best as he could manage. You weren’t the happiest person on the planet with that answer, but it was better than staying with him permanently. 

“How long?” You questioned, sitting down in front of him as he kept his eyes trained on you. “F.. f.. few days. Th.. they’ll forget. You’ll be o-kay.” Leon tried to reassure you and he sounded quite serious about this. 

You nodded with a firm tight-lipped expression. “Fine. A few days it is then.” You responded quite tiredly. Leon was a bit eager that you bought into his lie, why wouldn’t you? No one else could sway you to believe otherwise since he was a zombie and you believed he knew everything about every zombie in this post-apocalyptic world. 

The next few days consisted of the both of you doing fun things to relieve your boredom, he showed you his fun little trinkets and items he collected during his time as a zombie just so he could feel a little human again and you in turn showed him the fun things humans still did that he forgot about.

But all good things must come to an end when he got distracted roaming around outside the safe place, he took you to find some more food and perhaps a better blanket, it was a big police station, something had to be there. But when he arrived back a while later with the objects, he was shocked to find you missing when he deliberately only went out while you were napping or sleeping so he didn’t have to stress about you running away.

He pursed his lips into a pout before he heard you scream, he immediately dropped the stuff in his hands and rushed off towards the direction of the scream, finding you surrounded by zombies. He panicked and grabbed a fire extinguisher, whacking the other zombies in the head in order to protect you while you stepped out the way to avoid being attacked or injured in some way possible. 

When he was sure he killed the other zombies, he dropped the fire extinguisher and huffed softly, wiping the blood away from his face and hands onto his already bloody clothes. Leon snapped his head up towards your direction with a frown on his face. “You said a few days. It's been a few days, Leon.” You demanded answers, you were feeling restless after all. “I have to go home; I have a family. A family that's on the other side of that giant wall that keeps creatures like you out of it.” You tried your best to explain it to him, but he didn’t want to hear the nonsense. He wanted you.

He took your hand in his own cold and stiff one, tilting his head at you fondly. “S... stay t-together.” He smiled as best as he could manage while guiding you to the parking garage. “We leave.” He tapped his wallet again and then took you over to a hoodless red car that had the keys still in the ignition.

Leon wanted to drive but he wasn’t very sure in his abilities and as if you read his mind you spoke up. “I'll drive.” You exclaimed cheerfully, hopping into the driver’s seat while he got into the passengers. He took the parking garage keycard out from his wallet that he often used to go out and explore carefree and handed it to you, which you gladly accepted. 

-

It had been a few hours since you and Leon left the police station, a clear destination in mind for you. That same wall you referenced earlier. You could’ve gotten there before midnight, but it had started raining and the heater in the car crapped out. “Dammit it, I’m freezing...” You grumbled in slight frustration, but Leon wasn’t cold at all. Corpses don’t get cold, which is an added bonus sometimes.

You glanced around and realized you were in a neighborhood close to home, well not super close but close enough to finish driving the rest of the way there.

“Full disclosure, I am exhausted beyond, and I want to warm up before I catch hypothermia. I’m not a corpse you know.” You teased, smiling a bit as you informed Leon of what was about to happen. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

You were still a little uneasy around him, but he was growing on you. You pulled over into a random driveway and hopped out the car, shivering as the cold wind paired with the rain blew harshly against your skin. Leon followed right behind you, albeit a bit slow but he still followed along.

As you approached the door you silently hoped it was unlocked, because who the hell would lock their door after being evacuated in a zombie apocalypse? 

Unfortunately, it was locked, and you seriously considered busting the door down, you took a step back but stayed beneath the awning of the front porch, rubbing your hands up and down your upper arms to warm yourself while searching for a window that wasn’t boarded up to break into.

Leon on the other hand was confused why you didn’t just open the door considering he got there a little after you did. “What's... wrong?” He questioned, staring at you with his usual cute look of curiosity.

Your eyes darted back towards his own and you purse your lips tightly as you explained that the door was locked. “It’s locked, I can’t get in it and I’m searching for a window-” Before you could even finish your sentence Leon slammed into the front door and it swung open. You were stunned. Could he always do that? If so, why hadn’t zombies come in bigger hordes to storm the wall keeping the rest of humanity alive.

Leon turned towards you when he opened (broke) the door for the two of you, but mainly you. It’s like he was expecting some praise for helping you out. He was a good zombie after all! 

With a small smile on your face, you patted his head. “Thanks Lee.” You crooned, the nickname easily slipping past your lips as both of you sauntered inside the house while Leon closed the door behind the both of you once inside.

You desperately rubbed your hands together for a shred of warmth, Leon took note of this and frowned. He wanted to help you warm up but how? His brain (what was left due to deterioration) searched for an answer and came up with one possibility but didn’t know if you were going to want to do that. After all, he was let down earlier with the whole wallet situation.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m dying to get out of these clothes and under a blanket.” You emphasized your point by tugging on your soaked shirt. Leon being Leon let his eyes roam over your body, admiring the way it clung to your skin before noticing you were walking away towards the stairs. “O-Okay.” He murmured, tailing after you like a puppy.

Once you reached upstairs you asked Leon to make sure no other zombies were in any of the rooms, you survived this far. No way in hell were you going to die in such a pathetic way. It's the first rule of the apocalypse, be cautious and also know your route to escape if you do encounter a zombie. You can thank Zombieland for that warning, it did amuse you in some odd way.

Watching some guy who was surviving a zombie apocalypse thinking it would never happen but never say never. It felt like some sick joke that sometimes didn’t feel real until you encountered a zombie, then it felt a little too real.

Speaking of zombies, here comes the cutie who waddled back with a shake of his head. “No zombie!” He exclaimed, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "Bed.” He said simply, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you inside the room. You didn’t protest it at all, hell you would sleep on a rooftop if it provided you with good enough shelter along with a decent bed at this rate.

After a quick check of the mattress to discover it hadn’t rotted much, and a bedsheet was over it so it added a decent layer of protection as well, you sat on the edge of the bed while Leon sat on the floor like usual, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

“I’m gonna get undressed. Don’t look.” You ordered firmly, hoping he would understand. You smiled when he nodded and turned your back to him while he turned his head away long enough for you to see he did before he turned right back towards you.

Leon wasn’t an idiot; he knew very well what he was doing. He was once human too after all, plus he would feel stupid if he let this rare moment slip away from his grasp, it had been too long since he saw actual decent tits and ass, most of the other zombies who were women were all rotting and very unappealing to him. He’s sure you would look so beautiful if you looked like him. 

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to Leon’s plan or the fact he was ogling you like you were his next most delicious meal, and in a way... You kind of were. 

Nonetheless you stripped down to just a bra and panties before curling back into the bed and under the blanket, shivering quietly while hugging your legs for warmth still. It was so silent between the both of you. So silent you could hear your teeth chattering echo throughout the room.

Leon sat on the floor awkwardly, wondering what to do with his newfound feelings. You never banished him from the bed, nor were you shying away from him when he touched you recently. Maybe this time he could get what he wanted from you, right? He would have to eventually.

A very confident Leon rose up from the floor, you watching with furrowed brows in confusion. Was he going to leave the room? But to your surprise he curled up in bed with you, his cold dead hands sliding around your waist to cuddle you from behind, you instantly stiffened up from multiple things, the fact he was cold, and his hands were resting on your belly and the fact he was so close to you like this. But after a few moments you relaxed and leaned back into his touch.

Leon felt like he was over the moon when you reacted positively at his touch, he could smell your scent, your musk and if he had a consistent blood flow, he was sure it would’ve all rushed down to his penis. Luckily for him he could make his body stiffen up in places or even all over in general. Lord knows how many times he escaped second death by doing this neat party trick when humans tried killing the groups of zombies he was in. He never left unscathed though and caught a bullet in his shoulder once. But it never bothered him because he didn’t feel it. It did piss him off though. 

He was so tempted to take a small bite of your sweet supple flesh; he had been suppressing his desires for so long now it was becoming unbearable. “Such a temptress...” He thought to himself, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently, easing you up to his touch in small doses. 

You were feeling pretty sleepy but a part of you was getting a little turned on, you hadn’t had sex in a while even while your boyfriend was alive so any touch from a male was enough to set you off, even if unfortunately, that male was a zombie. But it was different somehow, he was gentle. Plus, he was cute so that definitely didn’t hurt either.

You guess the only plus of the whole situation was the fact Leon wasn’t breathing super loud in your ear like a fat pig. That’s what your now dead ex(?) boyfriend did, and it was a major turn off because it sounded like he was dying every time he was moaning or even came. 

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as Leon’s hand drifted lower to cup your inner thigh, the two of you looking down at his hand on your body. He whimpered softly at the warmth between your thighs. “M-May I?” He pleaded; he can’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Oh wait, yes he can. The first time he met you and a few hours earlier when you pulled that little stunt of disappearing on him. He thought he lost you forever. 

Not this time. 

Not ever again. 

You gulped quietly and looked over your shoulder at him nodding slightly, breathing out a soft yes. 

Leon was happy, he felt a warmth within himself in his chest area, well maybe if he had a beating heart it would feel way better, but he can’t get greedy now. Not after he worked this hard to get to this moment.

It had been a while since he had sex, things with his ex-girlfriend weren’t so great before he came to Raccoon city. He silently apologized if he was a bit rusty. Though as soon as his hand slipped beneath your panties, and he heard your soft gasp when his fingertip brushed against your clit it's like all his knowledge on how to please a woman came back to him.

He tightened his grip on your waist with one hand while the other dipped down to collect the slick leaking from your hole, using it as lubricant to swipe at your clit as best as he could, hoping to pleasure you. He figured he was doing a good job when you pressed your face into the pillow to muffle a moan.

That wouldn’t do at all!

Leon removed his hands from you and sat up, pouting a bit as his ego inflated from the soft whine of confusion left you. “I wanna..” He paused and looked down into your eyes. “So pretty...” He thought to himself. 

“Sound.” He pointed at your mouth; it took a second for it to click but once it did you nodded. “Right, yes. Sorry.” You blushed at his comment, for a zombie he seemed sure of exactly what he wanted. Even if he wasn’t good at it verbally.

Leon smiled and climbed on top of you, running his knuckle against your cheekbone with a delighted expression. You nuzzled against the gesture, a small part of you was calling yourself a freak for even enjoying this and the bigger part was you telling that other part to shut the fuck up.

Your hands came up to cup his face, being mindful of the piece of flesh missing from his cheek, he appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t care less if you touched the wound. He rested his weight on his forearms to grind his cock against the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your lips and if you weren’t so scared of getting bit you would’ve kissed him, but you didn’t want to tease him and him end up biting you.

You were so eager and desperate though that you yourself disregarded foreplay because you were definitely wet enough. You helped Leon strip down to nothing, admiring his toned body, ghosting your fingertip over the bullet wound too. He was embarrassed and shied away from your wandering eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Leon.” You confessed, watching his eyes go wide with his head snapping back towards you with a hint of vulnerability beneath them. “Really?” He tilted his head at you while you discarded your bra and panties somewhere in the room. 

When you met his eyes, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, nodding while dragging your fingers through his soft but slightly matted hair, trying to ignore the fact you might’ve tugged a bit too hard that some strands actually fell out. It was just another reminder that you were literally about to have sex with a whole zombie.

Leon cleared his throat as best as he could while positioning himself between your legs to rub his cockhead between your folds. Low moans escaped both of you before he slowly pushed himself past the tight muscle that relaxed with ease. Leon swore he was in heaven, that he died for a second time and that heaven was you.

So warm and wet. Is literally all he could think of.

You on the other hand couldn’t get over how good it was, but that lingering guilt still bubbled at the back of your mind. You shoved those thoughts down and wrapped your arms behind his neck tugging him closer towards your body.

Slowly he started to thrust into you, he tried to be gentle, but each thrust was hard and rough. Punched out gasps and moans filling the room each time his hips met yours. “D-Do you like...?” He asked quietly, burying his face into your neck, holding his desire to bite you at bay. He had to remind himself it wasn’t a good moment. But seeing your bouncing tits and flesh so close to his face was his breaking point.

“Y-yes... I love it–AHH!” You screamed at the end of your remark, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the pain of being bit. 

Leon cursed himself for doing it, but he could only hold his primal desires at bay for so long. “What the fuck did you do! G-Get off of me!” You shrieked, trying to fight away from his grasp but he was much stronger than you. Immediately pinning your wrists down to the mattress with one hand, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“I'm s-sorry!” He apologized profusely but his hips never slowed down. “Accident...” He whimpered coyly as you kept struggling. 

You felt like an idiot, who in their right mind would trust a zombie after all? You. You did and now you were reaping the consequences. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the blood loss and the blood around Leon’s mouth was making you dizzy with pleasure. It didn’t take long for your struggling to cease; you knew you would ‘die’ from blood loss but the adrenaline in your body was fighting while blood gushed out from the bite on your neck.

Leon let go of your wrists shakily to test if you would harm him but when you didn’t and you just laid there looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes, he felt like he was on top of the world. In one swift movement he put your ankles over his shoulders, putting you into a mating press damn near with how feral he was fucking you.

The lewd squelching sound of your pussy was enough to send him over the edge, but he can’t cum, he lost that ability the day he died. He was upset he didn’t meet you earlier, he’s so sure that you would look so perfect with his child in your belly.

“You’re going to be just like me...” Leon hummed, concern brewing in your belly when he started getting easier to understand. Was this really it? You weakly protested against the idea when his thumb pressed against your clit to get you to have one final orgasm. 

He tilted his head to the side to lick up your calf all the way up to your ankle, suckling on the area he wanted to bite. Without much thought he sank his teeth in your leg, right where he was bit. What was more romantic than having matching bite marks?

You jolted from the pain mixed with pleasure, weakly crying out Leon’s name. “L-Leon... Stop it...” You pawed at his back as your back arched off the bed, feeling the life slowly draining out your body the faster your heart pumped out blood from such a stimulating touch, your body temperature lowering to almost eerily match his own.

He could feel your gummy walls squeezing the non-existent life out his cock and he threw his head back in pleasure, groaning loudly as he doubled down on his efforts, he could tell you were close. 

He wasn’t wrong though, you were so close to reaching your sweet release, the bedsheet and mattress soaked with your bodily fluids. Blood and your arousal forever staining the sheets. “P-Please my Goddess...” He squeaked out, leaning down to lick at your neck, lapping up the blood oozing out. 

Your body was getting weaker and weaker, eyes fluttering shut longer than they were open as you slowly died beneath him, yet right before you took your last final breaths as a human you came violently around his cock, feeling utterly spent and satisfied as you drifted into an unconscious state.

Leon sat up straight, staring down at your lifeless body with a small amount of concern. He had never turned someone into a zombie before, so he wasn’t sure if he actually killed you or not. He pulled his cock out of your hole, admiring the creamy white ring around the base of it.

He ran his fingertips over the bite mark on your leg, sighing in content, his eyes drifting up your body to admire your glistening folds. He glanced around nervously before leaning down to lap at your cunt, moaning softly at the taste. "Gosh..." He could definitely eat you up.

He whimpered in frustration when you didn't stir awake after a few hours (minutes), placing small kisses on your belly with a pout, wrapping his arms around your waist while he laid on top of you, covering your naked bodies with the blanket. 

He kept your hand outside the blanket, staring intensely at it. 

“Please move. Please move.” He thought anxiously, finally after what felt like eternity, he saw your fingers twitch and he felt relieved. He smiled fondly at the sight, kissing your sternum with a dopey grin.

You were going to be with him for eternity. <3

[miquella-everywhere]

Rating the Demigods based off their Homes

Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.

The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.

Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of the castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause they've got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.

Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus minus 1 point for the tetanus hazard.

Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for the backyard being a general crime against humanity.

Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.

Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.

Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.

The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He was so dedicated to his mom that it honestly weirded Marika out and she essentially put him there and then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real

[adkawariatka]

Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….

Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…

Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.

The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says

- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?

And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy

- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.

Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.

- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?

Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.

- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.

Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.

- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.

- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all

And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:

- I do not understand

And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.

-hi there!

Geats cheerfully.

- I don’t have any cash on me right now

Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke

- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free

- I am not interested

Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.

- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them

- Thats none of your business. Go away

- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….

And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded

- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!

- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!

And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.

-

Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.

-

Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.

- look I am not…

Started Danny but Damian cut him off.

- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.

God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.

- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.

Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.

- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more

-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved

- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!

Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.

- Fine what’s your problem?

-

Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.

-

Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered

- well if you want I can be your friend

Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.

-yes that would be acceptable

Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.

So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.

[barcaatthemoon]

"If you didn’t want things to change, you shouldn’t have kissed me." with keira walsh please

easy again || keira walsh x reader ||

you couldn't help but feel like keira leaving manchester was your fault. barcelona wanting her was huge, and you wouldn't have ever wanted her to give up going there for you, but it still hurt to watch her leave. you had lost so many friends that year, and unfortunately, even seasons later, you were still caught up in keira.

the two of you had never been anything technically. you were barely friends, only ever an extension of their group because of your older sister, georgia. your sister had always pawned you off on lucy, who looked after you like you were her own sister until leah or keira pulled you into the fold to join them.

"finally, i was beginning to think that you were bailing on us," georgia said as she pulled you into a hug. you glanced past her at the table, where keira and leah were deep in conversation. "we've got a lot to talk about. what's this i hear about a transfer?"

"i wanted something new. i've been at city for a long time, and it's not the same anymore," you admitted. georgia frowned as she shoved you into a seat and went back to the bar with leah to get shots. "hey kei."

"hi," she said shortly. you frowned as you ran your hand over your head. "don't give me that look. come on, you know better."

"i'm sorry, i just want things to be easy again. why is it so difficult?" for the first time in a long time, keira felt a surge of protectiveness for you. it was quickly pushed down as she remembered how public the restaurant was. "i don't like how much it's all changed."

"if you didn't want things to change, then you shouldn't have kissed me (y/n). you did this yourself, so live with it," keira said harshly. you shrunk back at her words, but kept a strong face for the rest of dinner. georgia was happy enough that you actually met them in london that she didn't question you rushing back to finish packing your bags in manchester.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Whalien52 (m) | pjm

you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

→ Pairing: Jimin (kitty gang!jimin) x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: apocalyptic, survival, dystopian + angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 10.6k → Warnings + triggers: changing povs (between reader and Jimin), action, weapons, guns and swords, blood (it’s not in extreme detail or anything, but blood is mentioned a few times), death (people are dying, but no important character dies!!!), wounds, shooting, self defense, m*rder in self defense, sickness (cancer due to radiation), mention of a cure and treatment for said cancer. Explicit smut in the form of unprotected sexy, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, degrading names, multiple orgasms, creampie, kissing. → Author’s note(1): okay, so I’ve been struggling a lot with this one too, lol. I miss writing sappy romance I think. This isn’t sappy, and I’ll hardly call it romance, well, it’s in there, but there’s honestly so much action in this one, compared to the Yoongi one. It’s also more fast paced, and shorter. I hope it’s alright! It was fun to write, even though I know nothing about writing action, I hope I did it well! And to everyone who’s scared or reluctant to read it because there’s angst and it’s kinda heavy/dark themed— IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING. There, I spoiled the ending for you 😇 + This story is a gift for my friend @remmykinsff! Thank you so much for sharing your Kitty gang Jimin folder with me, and letting me use you for motivation and inspiration to get out of my writer’s block 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

[navi]*: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue *this story is technically a stand alone one-shot (and can be read just as is), but it is also a spin-off from another one-shot (that got a sequel, so a two-shot?). The characters and the story are the same, but the first two stories takes place before this one, and it’s with Yoongi x reader (not the same reader though).

It’s raining again. Lately, it’s always raining. The rain is everlasting, it seems, drenching the city in a ceaseless, oppressive downpour. The Capital is perpetually shrouded in darkness and gloom, a place where the sun is a distant memory. You’ve grown accustomed to it, ever since you were recruited by The New World Order to guard their secrets. You’ve been trapped in this godforsaken city ever since. Do you like it? Not really, but it’s a job that pays well. They give you a roof over your head and enough to survive—luxuries in this ravaged world.

You came from nothing, clawing your way up since the war began, fighting for every scrap of existence until The New World Order caught you. They gave you a choice: die or work for them. You chose to live, naively hoping that working for them wouldn’t be so bad. But it turns out, it can be quite bad. You’ve done unspeakable things to keep their secrets safe. You’ve killed for them, just as you had killed for yourself before they found you. Now, you don’t even flinch when you have to eliminate someone who gets too close to the truth. Part of you wonders what these secrets are, but you’re not interested. It’s just a job, nothing more.

Tonight is another shift. You head to the New World Order building, ready to patrol the city under the cover of darkness. First, you gear up: leather pants, a basic white shirt, and a black leather biker jacket. A belt around your waist for support, with a strap around your thigh that holsters your gun. A small knife is sheathed at your back, just in case.

You glance out the window. The world outside is as bleak as ever; night has fallen, and the rain taps a morose melody against the glass. You sigh, watching the neon signs flicker, casting a purple and blue glow that dances across your room. Grabbing your keys, you lock the door behind you and sprint down the stairs. This apartment is nothing special, but it’s a step up from the streets where you once lived before the war. It’s a small comfort in a world gone mad.

The rain soaks your skin, but you don’t bother with an umbrella. It’s just rain. You run down the dimly lit main street, the few wandering souls avoiding eye contact as they scurry to obey The New World Order’s curfew. Your boots splash through rain puddles on the unpaved, muddy road. It doesn’t take long to reach the towering New World Order building—its looming presence still sends a shiver down your spine, but you step inside anyway. Scanning your security card, you brace yourself for another night of duty.

You start your shift monitoring security cameras and patrolling the eerie hallways for any sign of suspicious activity. As you return to the front desk, you catch sight of a man attempting to bypass the card reader.

“What are you doing here?” you growl, your hand instinctively hovering near your gun.

The man fumbles with the machine, clearly lacking a security card. Desperation edges his voice as he yells, “I want the data that The New World Order is keeping from us!”

“You’re not getting that,” you reply coldly, assessing the intruder. He seems harmless, more frustrated than dangerous, so you relax, slightly.

“Do you even know what it is that you’re protecting?” he spits, abandoning his futile attempt to climb the machines as the alarm blares. The piercing sound echoes through the corridor, and you quickly pull out the phone issued by the New World Order to silence it.

“I don’t care what I’m protecting. You’ve got no business here. Now leave,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You shouldn’t be so blind to the secrets you’re safekeeping for them,” he hisses, making another hopeless attempt to scale the security machines.

His efforts are laughable, a pathetic display of defiance. A dark chuckle escapes your lips. “Leave, or I’ll shoot you.” This is his final warning. If he doesn't heed it, he’ll meet the cold, indifferent justice of your gun. So be it.

He freezes, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he gauges your resolve. Your unwavering stare breaks his spirit, and he quivers in fear before backing off. Without a word, he turns and bolts, likely retracing his steps. Fool, you think, watching him flee. 

The encounter leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s not the first to suggest you should question your work and the secrets you guard. Maybe you should. But you know the moment you do, you’re dead. You’ll lose everything you’ve achieved and everything you hold dear. That fear keeps you in place, and you reckon that’s the point of it all—the New World Order instills fear in everyone, ensuring their control remains absolute.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go in there alone?” Bora asks, her voice tinged with unease. It’s understandable—years of meticulous planning and reconnaissance are culminating in this moment. Whalien52 is about to attempt the impossible: stealing the cure for cancer that The New World Order keeps hidden away.

Jimin isn’t scared. He’s accustomed to these kinds of missions, though this will be his most significant one yet. A good kind of nervousness tingles through him, a mix of excitement and determination. “Yeah, Hobi’s done plenty of research. I know exactly which room to hit,” he says, flashing Bora a reassuring smile.

He gets why she’s scared. Bora and Yoongi have been through hell, and with both of them sick, finding the cure is personal. Yoongi’s condition has worsened over the years, a stark reminder of the injustice that The New World Order perpetuates by hoarding the cure while people die from radiation-induced cancers. The thought makes Jimin’s blood boil.

It’s this anger that led him to join Whalien52 after meeting Jungkook in the wasteland, a desolate remnant of what the bombings and wars left behind. The new government organization threatens to transform the remnants of humanity into a dystopian nightmare—if it hasn’t already.

Jimin thrives as an assassin, driven by a relentless quest for truth. The thrill, the chase, the stealth—it’s all part of the adrenaline rush he lives for. But beneath the excitement lies a deep-seated hatred for the rich elites who hid in their bomb-proof bunkers, safeguarding their technology, only to reemerge and rebuild a civilization for themselves amidst the ruins. Their swift reconstruction of the Capital stands as a bitter reminder of their enduring power.

The injustice has turned him bitter. It’s why he’s vowed to do everything in his power to change the world, to help Whalien52 make knowledge free and accessible to everyone, not just the rich. The gap between rich and poor has become a chasm, with only the vetted elite allowed to live in the Capital. The rest of humanity is left to fend for themselves, struggling for survival in a world that hopes they’ll destroy each other.

Jimin won’t stand for it. This mission isn’t just about stealing a cure, or getting data on possible treatment—it’s about justice, about leveling the playing field, about giving hope to those left in the dark. And he’ll see it through, no matter the cost.

Yoongi comes up to him, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m serious. You don’t have to do this for me,” he coughs, his voice so raspy it sounds like he’s been smoking forever.

Jimin places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, his gaze shifting briefly to Bora before settling back on Yoongi. “We are doing this for you. But I’m also doing this for everyone else,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion and a glimmer of hope. “You’re not the only one suffering from cancer because of the radiation. We want to help everyone; we can’t just let people die.”

Yoongi flashes a soft smile and sits down to rest, the effort of standing too exhausting for him now. Jimin will do this for him, for Bora, and for the rest of humanity. He doesn’t mind risking his own life in the search for a cure—he might need one later himself.

“I’ll go get ready,” he says, turning away from Bora and Yoongi. He walks past Jungkook and Taehyung in the dimly lit hideout and heads into his room. He pulls on his leather pants, a white shirt, and then his favorite leather bomber jacket, adorned with pink, silver and purple sparkles. The jacket complements his pink fluffy hair perfectly. He retrieves his gun, tucking it into his back pocket—risky, he knows. Then he picks up his katana, swinging it over his back into its sheath. The sword, his preferred weapon, feels reassuringly familiar.

Now he’s ready. Ready to infiltrate the fortress of secrets and retrieve the cure. Ready to fight for a future where knowledge and healing aren’t hoarded by the few. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the mission ahead, a mission that could change everything in this dystopian nightmare they call life.

He says goodbye to everyone, hugging each of them tightly, aware that any moment could be his last. This mission is perilous, and while he has infiltrated The New World Order before without getting caught, this time is different. He will be venturing deeper into their stronghold than ever before.

After bidding farewell to his friends, Jimin strides outside to his motorcycle. The powerful machine, stolen from the Capital, gleams with a sleek, futuristic design. Its pale metal body has an industrial look, and its size dwarfs Jimin as he mounts it. Neon lights flicker to life as he revs the engine, the bike purring beneath him. With a flick of his wrist, he speeds towards the Capital, sand flying from the back wheel.

He knows he must be cautious once he enters the city. Stealth is crucial to avoid detection and successfully infiltrate The New World Order’s building. Failure means everything will have been for nothing.

The rain is endless, a perpetual downpour that defines the Capital. He doesn’t know why it always rains here, only that it does. The empty streets are illuminated by the neon signs adorning the various buildings, casting a colorful glow in the darkness.

He parks his motorcycle near the New World Order building, at the secluded back entrance where security is minimal. This is his best chance. 

Taking a deep breath, he opens the door. 

It’s all or nothing.

It’s getting late, and the monotony of patrolling the building is wearing you down. The nights are usually quiet, save for the occasional curious stranger trying to access the information you guard. You sigh and head back to the surveillance room, your eyes scanning the screens for anything unusual. Suddenly, you spot a figure moving on one of the monitors. A shot of adrenaline surges through you, breaking the dullness of the night. 

The absence of triggered alarms tells you the intruder is a professional. No amateur could bypass the sophisticated security systems. The thought excites you, your heart rate spiking as you dash through the corridors, your hand hovering near your gun. You search each room hastily, growing more anxious with every empty space, until you reach the final room—the one that holds the most guarded secrets.

You pause outside the door, peeking in cautiously.

Inside, a well-defined man with pink, fluffy hair, leather pants, and a sparkly bomber jacket stands with his back to you, working at one of the computers. This is the information hub, where all vital data is stored. This is bad, but you have the element of surprise. Steadying your breath, you draw your gun and step into the doorway, your voice commanding, “Freeze!”

The man doesn’t freeze. Instead, you watch as he swiftly pulls a USB drive from the computer, moving with a grace that is almost dance-like. Before you can react, he glides across the floor and stands before you, a sword at your throat. A thrill of excitement runs through your body.

You stand still, a smile twisting on your lips, locked in a standoff with the pink-haired intruder. He’s chosen the wrong weapon to threaten you with. “You brought a sword to a gunfight?” you laugh, despite the blade pressing against your throat, your gun aimed at his chest. Who really has the upper hand here?

“Oh, I have a gun too,” he smirks, his voice sweet but laced with danger.

“What are you doing here?” you seethe, standing your ground.

“Getting information,” he replies matter-of-factly, not even breaking a sweat.

“You’re stealing. I can’t allow you to leave,” you spit, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Do you even know what kind of information you’re guarding?” he challenges, his words striking a chord. He’s not the first to ask you this today, and it makes you pause. “I know nothing, and I don’t care,” you respond after a moment’s thought.

“You really should,” he says, stepping closer until your gun is pressed against him. He doesn’t seem afraid, almost as if he’s an adrenaline junkie like you. But no, he’s not scared. He’s reckless. Your finger hovers near the trigger, but something makes you hesitate. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t like it.

His eyes, dark pools of obsidian, glint with amusement. He chuckles, and before you can react, his boot slams into your stomach, sending you sprawling to the cold, hard floor. Your gun slips from your grip, clattering away.

The man towers over you, his boot pressing down on your pussy, the katana poised at your throat, its cold blade grazing your skin. You raise your arms in a defensive pose, trapped and weaponless. He smirks, waving your gun tauntingly.

“You’re guarding information that can save humanity. What you’re doing is sick,” he spits, pressing his boot harder into you. Why does that feel hot? Why do tingles shoot through your body? Damn it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you growl back, genuinely confused. Your mind feels hazy with adrenaline and something else.

“The cure for cancer,” he snarls, his anger palpable.

Your eyes widen. The cure for cancer? You’ve heard whispers, but you didn’t know that’s what you were guarding. You know there’s treatment, but the New World Order has been hoarding those as well, making treatment inaccessible for the common people.

He presses his boot into you even more, a mix of pain and pleasure surging through your body.

“Oh my god. Are you getting turned on right now?” His voice drips with dark amusement, mocking you.

“Fuck no!” you yell, even as your body betrays you, responding to the pressure of his boot. You know you’re aroused, but you refuse to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I can smell you from here. There’s no point in lying,” he chuckles, lifting his boot from your crotch, though his sword remains at your throat.

You hate how observant he is, and you need to change the subject, to find a way out. You growl, “I’m not. And you’re not getting away. I don’t care if it’s the cure for cancer or whatever you’ve stolen.”

“I have my katana at your throat. I’m sure I’ll make it out just fine,” he replies, his dark chuckle sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve got what I came for,” he says, smirking down at you. “I’m flattered you’re turned on. Maybe if we met under different circumstances,” he adds, his eyes glinting with dark lust. “You should look into the secrets you’re guarding,” he says, withdrawing his katana and retreating, tossing your gun far out of reach.

You scramble to your feet as soon as he’s gone, snatching up your gun and bolting after him through the corridors. He’s silent, almost ghost-like, but you chase him nonetheless. He can’t leave with the vital information. The New World Order will have your head if they find out. You hear the click of a door—it’s the backdoor. You rush outside, the heavy rain stinging your face as the neon lights flicker on the deserted street. You catch sight of his motorcycle’s tail light disappearing into the rain. 

Fuck.

As soon as he crosses the threshold between the Capital and the dystopian suburb, the rain ceases abruptly. He twists the throttle of his motorcycle, speeding through the desolate landscape back to the hideout. His heart pounds, but he doesn’t look back. He doubts he’s being followed.

The journey back is swift. As the hideout comes into view, he decelerates, parking his bike with a sense of triumph. He’s relieved not to return empty-handed and, more importantly, to have survived the mission. Reflecting on the encounter, a smirk forms on his face. You were easier to deceive than he anticipated. A part of him hopes to see you again, intrigued by your reaction to seeing him. 

He wonders if he could sway you, make you see the truth about the secrets you’re guarding for The New World Order. Could he enlist you in his cause? The thought intrigues him, though he doubts it. You seemed too ignorant, too indifferent to the atrocities made by the regime.

The night is still young as he dismounts his bike and strides toward the door. It opens easily—unlocked, as usual. They really should lock it; you never know who might come by.

He’s greeted by a flurry of curious eyes as his friends jump up, their eagerness palpable. “Relax,” he gestures, “sit down.” Reaching into the pocket of his leather pants, he pulls out the USB drive. The tiny piece of tech holds the key to saving the world— the cure for cancer. Something they had all doubted, but had uncovered through relentless investigation, exposing the dark secrets of The New World Order.

He strides over to Namjoon, whose eyes glitter with excitement, his fingers itching to grasp the device and run an analysis. Jimin hands him the USB drive with a proud smile. “Here,” he says, “I hope everything’s on there. I was interrupted while pulling the data.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon responds, already heading into a back room, eager to delve into the contents.

Jimin collapses onto the spot Namjoon vacated, feeling the weight of their stares. 

Bora clears her throat. “You said you were interrupted?”

“Ah, yeah,” he chuckles, revealing his crooked teeth. “A security guard. But she was easy to handle.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Yoongi grunts, his voice strained and raspy.

“It was,” Jimin shrugs, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. In truth, it had been almost too easy. He can’t shake the thought: had he overlooked something, or was fate simply on his side this time?

Jungkook’s questioning stare pierces through Jimin, but he doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t want to share how you made his blood boil with adrenaline and lust. He doesn’t even know your name, but you ignited something within him, a cocktail of emotions in mere moments. He’s both intrigued and captivated by you.

Time blurs as Jimin waits, lost in his thoughts until Namjoon reenters the living room. The look on Namjoon’s face is enough: it’s not the cure.

“This data isn’t complete,” Namjoon groans, frustration etched across his features as he waves the USB drive. He paces anxiously, “It has some information on cancer treatment, but the data on the cure is fragmented. Jin, can you take a look at it? All I see are molecules. I don’t know what to make of it,” he adds, his voice tinged with nervous laughter and defeat.

Jimin’s stomach sinks, a heavy weight of disappointment and anger settling in. He had hoped to secure all the needed information, but now they’re still unable to help Bora, Yoongi, and countless others suffering from the cancer that The New World Order likely caused. The thought sickens him. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were behind everything—the war, the slaughter of mankind. Sometimes it feels like The New World Order is playing a sick game of battle royale with the world’s population. People fight desperately, both for information and survival, in a world where information and treatment are hoarded like treasures. 

Jimin’s mind races, thoughts swirling with the grim reality: when people are dying and sick, they become desperate, willing to do anything to stay alive. He feels a bitter mix of anger and sadness, questioning if he was delusional to think it would be easy to obtain the cure or even secure vital treatment information. The hope that things could change for the better feels like a distant dream.

Jin takes the USB drive, slipping it into his pocket, and gives Jimin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to his patient and study room. Jimin feels a gnawing sense of inadequacy, berating himself for getting caught and distracted by you. He wonders if he should attempt to sneak back into the New World Order building, determined to obtain the missing data they desperately need.

“I’ll go back and see if I can get the remaining data in a few days,” he declares, his voice tinged with deflation but underpinned by a strong current of willpower. He can’t afford to fail again. The mission is too important, the stakes too high.

It’s been a few days since the pink-haired guy infiltrated the New World Order building undetected, slipping through your fingers like sand. The incident has left you feeling weird and anxious. You expected The New World Order to contact you, reprimand you, or worse, eliminate you. But there’s been nothing—no messages, no ominous visits. Maybe they don’t know about your slip-up yet? Or perhaps they’re biding their time.

Your phone, a sleek piece of tech courtesy of The New World Order, vibrates in your hand. You unlock it, and a text message glares back at you.

New World Order: Come to the headquarters in 15 minutes.

That’s all it says, nothing more, nothing less. You gulp, feeling your palms grow sweaty. This is it. This is how you die. Thrown off the tall building. You’ve heard stories, and they’re not nice. The tales of disappearances and silent executions run through your mind, making you shiver with nerves.

You lace up your boots with trembling hands, each loop a countdown to your potential demise. Trudging down the stairs of your dark apartment, you step into the rainy street. The city around you is a dismal sprawl of neon lights and shadows, a perfect reflection of your inner turmoil. You try to calm your racing heart, but it’s a futile effort. Every step feels heavier, every breath more labored as you make your way to the New World Order headquarters, fearing that this is the end.

You reach the New World Order headquarters, a monolith of cold steel and glass looming above the city. For a moment, you let the rain caress your face, cleansing you of your sins. Maybe they won’t mention anything? Clenching your fists, you walk into your workplace, passing through the security scanners, the impassive front desk, the sterile halls, and finally to the elevators. You step into one, the doors closing with a cold finality. The elevator ascends, a silent reminder of the 30 floors that separate you from potential death should you be pushed out. You close your eyes, banishing the thought.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, revealing an amble-lit hallway adorned in red and gold. The color scheme feels both luxurious and ominous, a blend of future opulence and ancient dread. The red rug underfoot seems out of place, a relic amidst the high-tech surroundings. It suddenly hits you—it might be there to hide a certain color of liquid. No, you shouldn’t think about it. Nothing’s going to happen to you.

Each step down the hallway feels like walking through a graveyard at midnight, the silence thick and oppressive. Your breath quickens, your hand hovering over the handle of the door at the end. This is it. Just get it over with.

With sweaty hands, you push open the door and step inside. A tall man in a black suit stands with his back to you, staring out of the tall windows. The view overlooks the bleak, rainy city, a desolate wasteland stretching to the horizon. The room is deathly silent, save for the patter of rain against the glass. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

He doesn’t turn to acknowledge you, his presence as cold and unyielding as the cityscape beyond. You gulp, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for him to speak, waiting for your fate to be decided.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing in the tension-filled room. The man’s attention snaps to you, and he turns on his heels with a sinister smile. “Y/N!”

The way he says your name sends shivers down your spine, raising the hairs on your body. An urge to flee or jump out of the window floods your senses, but you force yourself to steady your resolve.

You recognize him as the head of the organization, though his name remains a mystery, like everyone else’s in this godforsaken place. Faces are familiar, but names are a dangerous luxury.

“Glad you could make it. Take a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of his imposing wooden desk, an artifact of richness you could never dream of affording.

You gulp, a slight ringing in your ears accompanying your erratic heartbeat. Your palms are slick with sweat as you move to sit down.

“Nervous?” he asks, his voice calm and commanding as he paces the room.

“Yes,” you manage to say, gulping again as you track his movements.

“Good,” he replies, looking down at you with a predatory glint in his eye.

“I saw the surveillance footage from the break-in a few days ago,” he begins, his eyes boring into you with an unsettling intensity. Fear knots in your stomach, paralyzing your muscles as you brace yourself for whatever comes next. You remain silent, too scared to speak, knowing that he already knows everything that happened.

“You’ve gone soft. If this happens again, shoot the intruder, or you’ll be the one staring down the barrel of a gun,” he says, his voice sharp and precise, each word like a blade against your throat. A chill runs through you, and you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You’ve messed up, but somehow he’s letting you off with a warning—something you didn’t expect. A small part of you dares to breathe a little easier.

“Now leave before I change my mind,” he hisses. You flinch, your body reacting instinctively as you rush to the door. Bowing quickly, you slip out without a word. Outside, you realize you’ve been holding your breath and you gasp for air, your hands trembling.

You know you have to do your job better if you want to survive. The threat lingers in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder about the secrets you’re guarding. What could be so important? Maybe it’s time to investigate—time to find out if this job is truly worth risking your life for.

Your boss won’t find out, right? You gulp, pushing the thought away. You need to know. You’ve done your job blindly for so long, but the time has come to uncover the truth. You know the higher-ups won’t give you any information, even if you asked, which is why you find yourself downstairs in the control room.

You locate the computer you usually use, turn it on, and log into the company drive. Your fingers tremble as you navigate through multiple folders, delving deeper into the rabbit hole. You uncover information you never imagined existed. Details about how and why the war started shock you—who knew a failed peace treaty could lead to such global devastation? The realization hits you hard: the war was actually orchestrated by a few countries aiming to seize power when the peace treaty collapsed. Those people now form The New World Order. A chill runs down your spine.

You stumble upon a folder detailing the side effects of radiation, studies on various cancer treatments, and ultimately, a cure for cancer. Disbelief floods your mind as you stare at the words on the screen. You blink, hoping the text will change, but it remains. The next document reveals their sinister plan: to keep this life-saving information hidden, ensuring only the rich survive while letting the rest of humanity rot and die.

This is what the pink-haired man wanted you to know. Regret and anger churn in your gut—you should have listened, should have questioned everything from the start. You feel sick, overwhelmed by the weight of the truth. You close the computer, resolve hardening within you. 

As you leave the control room and head home, your mind swirls with thoughts. You need to figure out what to do with this explosive information before your shift tonight. The rain continues to fall, each drop a reminder of the world’s decay. You realize now that your role in The New World Order’s scheme is far more sinister than you ever imagined.

Jimin has to obtain the missing piece of data his group needs for the cure for cancer, or at least information to develop new treatments. Ever since the war started, all research and treatment for cancer have been inaccessible. Late at night, at their hideout far from the Capital, Jimin prepares for his mission. He looks at Bora and Yoongi—Yoongi, in particular, has deteriorated, and Jimin fears he doesn’t have much time left. The urgency gnaws at him; failure is not an option.

He doesn’t know whether he hopes to meet you at the New World Order headquarters or not. The thought of you makes his heart race, but he knows that if you get in his way, his mission might fail. He sighs, waving goodbye to the group, then steps outside. The night is oppressive, the air thick with the scent of decay and rain. He puts on his helmet, the world narrowing to the visor’s view, and straddles his bike. The engine roars to life, vibrating through him, merging with the adrenaline surging in his veins.

It’s now or never.

He twists the accelerator, the bike surging forward into the darkness, toward the lifeless, desolate Capital. The neon lights flicker ominously as he speeds into enemy territory, a lone figure against the backdrop of a crumbling dystopia.

The room is dark—just the way you prefer it. Your eyes, adept at seeing through the gloom, catch every detail, including the pink-haired intruder hunched over a computer terminal, stealing vital information from your employer. Silently, you watch him, observing his methodical movements as he navigates the screen. The monitor casts a ghostly blue light, making his hair shimmer with a surreal purple hue. You can’t deny he looks striking.

Tonight, you decide not to intervene. After your own clandestine investigation into your employer, you understand why he’s after the data—why so many risk everything to steal it. The New World Order’s secrets are dark and twisted, and the pink-haired man’s quest suddenly seems justified.

Minutes tick by in silence, the intruder’s focus unbroken. His sparkly bomber jacket gleams faintly in the dim light. Finally, he seems satisfied, pulling a USB drive from the terminal. The moment he turns around, you flick on the lights.

Yellow fluorescent tubes flicker to life, bathing the room in a harsh, sickly glow. He freezes, one hand instinctively hovering over the katana strapped to his back, the other gripping the USB drive.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you smirk, leaning casually against the wall by the exit, blocking his escape.

He hisses, scanning you up and down before his features relax into a smirk. “Where’s your gun? Aren’t you gonna try to stop me again, pretty?”

Your eyes sparkle at the compliment, much like his jacket, and you chuckle softly. “Nah,” you shrug, but straighten your posture, exuding confidence.

He quirks an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why?”

You take in his appearance—black leather pants hugging his thick thighs, lace-up military boots, and that unmistakable sparkly bomber jacket. With a soft, yet sultry smile, you reply, “I finally opened my eyes to what’s really going on. What’s truly been happening, and I don’t like it one bit.”

His shoulders relax further, and his hands withdraw from the katana and the gun stashed behind his back. He eyes you with a mixture of caution and intrigue, seemingly pleased by your revelation.

“So, you’re just gonna let me go?” he asks, ensuring he hasn’t misheard.

“Yeah. But actually…” you begin, drawing out your words to capture his attention as you step closer, batting your eyes at him. “I have more information back at my apartment that you might want to see. I can take you there. Show you.”

You can’t help the way your body responds to him—you want him, and you want him bad. It’s true, you do have valuable information at your place, but your ulterior motives are undeniable. The risk is immense. The moment you make this move, you’ll become a wanted criminal, hunted by the New World Order. But the thought of remaining complicit in their schemes sickens you. You crave freedom, and he might just be the key to it.

For a flicker of a second, you catch him stuttering, but he quickly collects himself, smirking back at you. His pink tongue darts out to wet his lips in a teasing move, and you feel a tingle between your legs.

“Let’s go then,” he says, brushing past you and out the door. You follow closely, aware of the cameras tracking your every move, but you don't care. Time is short; the New World Order will come after you soon, so you need to be quick.

The pink-haired man leads the way through the dim, familiar halls to the back door. The green emergency light flickers ominously overhead. He pushes the door open, and the bleak night greets you with flickering neon lights. His sleek silver bike stands nearby. As you approach, he hands you his helmet and lets you straddle his bike, taking the place behind you. His body presses close against your back, and a surge of arousal courses through you.

You turn the bike on, and it roars to life. With a swift movement, you speed through the empty, rain-soaked streets back to your apartment. His arms wrap securely around your torso, and it feels nice. His head rests against your shoulder, and you catch a whiff of his scent—like fresh cotton on a summer's breeze, something you haven’t smelled in a long time. You long for it.

It doesn’t take long to reach your apartment. You turn off the bike, parking it out of sight from prying eyes. He gets off first, then you remove the helmet and jump down. Neither of you speaks as you walk up the stairs to your first-floor apartment. You quickly unlock the door and push into your dark space. The lights are off, and the place is messy with clothes strewn about, but you don't care. The apartment is a tiny one-bedroom, an open space where the kitchen, living room, and bedroom blend together. It’s small, but it’s home.

“Welcome,” you whisper, closing the door behind you, sealing both of you in a cocoon of secrecy and danger.

The tension between you feels thick as you make your way inside, heading straight to your desk and rummaging for the flash drive you’ve hidden. The man’s eyes follow your every move as you open a drawer and pull out the drive, smirking as you wave it in the air. “This has more information on it that I think you’ll need.”

He stalks closer, his smirk widening. In the minimal light, he seems even more predatory than before. The look in his eyes suggests he wants to devour you right then and there.

“What’s in it for you?” he asks, standing mere millimeters from you, your noses almost touching. His warm breath fans your ear and neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Take me with you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes roam your body, lingering on your eyes, cheeks, nose, lips, and collarbone.

“Hmm,” he hums, his hands landing on your hips. You feel the warmth of his fingers through your leather pants.

Your breath quickens, and you feel like you’re crumbling beneath his stare, utterly aroused for this man whose name you still don’t know. The mixture of arousal and adrenaline makes you feel almost high.

You close the gap between you and kiss him. It’s quick and needy, and he responds immediately, pressing his body hungrily into yours, his fingers digging into the bare skin of your waist above your pants. His lips are soft, but his moves are hard and hungry.

He moves his lips to your ear, kissing and licking it, then trailing down to your neck. He marks it with his teeth, eliciting a needy moan from you. The world outside your darkened apartment fades away, leaving only the desperate, electric connection between you.

“You’re really something,” he pants into your ear, his breath sending tingles down your spine and all the way to your core. “I want to taste you, and I don’t even know your name.”

You chuckle, the sound strained and laden with lust. “It’s Y/N,” you manage between pants. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Jimin,” he murmurs, his tongue tracing your neck before biting gently.

Fuck.

“I want you, Jimin,” you groan as he pulls back slightly, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“But we don’t have much time,” you say breathlessly, the urgency of your situation seeping into your voice. “The New World Order will be looking for me soon.” You fumble with your pants, dragging them and your panties down to expose yourself to the cool air of the apartment.

In one fluid motion, Jimin drops to his knees, looking up at you with a teasing lick of his lips. “No worries, I can be quick.” Without another word, he dives in, his mouth sealing around your wet heat.

You gasp his name, your legs turning to jelly as your hands find purchase in his pink locks. His tongue is relentless, strong and skilled as it laps over your clit and teases your entrance. The obscene noises he makes against you only heighten your arousal, your breathing growing shallow as you lose yourself in the sensation.

Your back meets the wall, and you do your best to hold yourself up as he devours you from the floor. His mouth works you expertly, sucking and licking, driving you closer to the edge. The coil in your stomach tightens, your body trembling with the impending climax.

Jimin grunts into your cunt, his teeth grazing your clit, and the world shatters around you. He sucks hard, creating a perfect seal around your sensitive nub, and the coil in your stomach snaps. You come undone on his tongue, panting furiously as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Even as you orgasm, he doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing its assault, his nose pressing against your clit. You grab his hair, trying to pull him away as your sensitivity peaks, but he holds you there, pushing you to the brink of overstimulation and back into the abyss of pleasure.

His face glistens with your slick, and you think he looks beautiful, so you grab his sharp jaw and pull him up for a kiss. You don’t care that you taste yourself on his plush lips.

You break away and say, “I really want to return the favor,” your hands toying with his pants as you brush against his already erect dick.

He pushes your hand away gently. “It’s okay. You said to be quick, so you can do that another time.” He kisses you again, trailing down to the other side of your neck, then up to the shell of your ear. “I really just want to fuck you now.”

You’re drenched, dripping with arousal. His words render you speechless; you bite your bottom lip and nod, anticipation coursing through you.

The sound of his zipper sends a thrill down your spine as he opens his pants. He drags his boxers down, and his cock springs free. It’s thick and of an average length, and the sight makes you salivate. You wish you had time to take him into your mouth, but that’s a pleasure for another time, like he promised.

The head of his cock is red, with a bead of precum at the tip. It looks beautiful, and your pussy clenches around the emptiness, eager to be filled. You can’t wait to have him stretch you, it’s been so long since you’ve had sex. It’s honestly been years, and as you realize this, you think he should have prepared you more. But you don’t get to mull over it for long; you feel the tip of his cock against your folds, and in one fluid motion, he pushes inside you.

You moan his name as he grabs both of your legs and wraps them around his waist, driving himself deeper into you. You feel so fucking full, it’s delicious.

“Fuck. I forgot about a condom,” he pants, slamming you hard against the wall. He stays inside for a moment before beginning a relentless rhythm of thrusts.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, “I’m clean, and I can’t get pregnant.”

He just grunts in your ear, then starts nibbling on it. The pace he sets is quick, hard, and dirty—unforgiving. But you don’t mind; you're pressed for time anyway. The pleasure is intense, and the way he growls into your ear makes the knot form in your stomach again.

“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he growls, thrusting hard and deep. “You wanted this right from the start, didn’t you?” His voice is low, dangerously so, making you even wetter because he’s so right.

“Such a fucking slut for cock,” he pants, his tongue trailing along your neck. “No one in this godforsaken city to satisfy your needy pussy.”

You clench around him, your hands gripping his shoulders, fingers digging into the back of his sparkly jacket.

“Fuck. You’re so tight,” he groans, his hips working overtime to pleasure you, and your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Are you gonna come?” he asks, a wicked glint in his eyes.

You moan in response, releasing a wave of liquid around his cock, making the glide even smoother.

“Fuck. You’re gorgeous,” he says, licking your neck again. “I’m gonna come too.”

With a rapid burst of thrusts, he spills his warm seed inside your still-pulsating pussy. For a moment, you rest your foreheads together, panting for air. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he hungrily kisses your lips.

You feel a mixture of your essences trailing out of you, pooling on the floor or your panties—you don’t really care.

As you struggle to steady your breathing and rapid heartbeat, a pounding on your door shatters the moment. It's not gentle—it’s hard and oppressive, sending a terrible shiver down your spine. The New World Order. Your mind turns razor-sharp, senses heightened. Jimin quickly softens inside you, then pulls out, your legs falling to the floor, dripping semen as he pulls up his pants and grabs his gun and the hard drive.

You do the same, hastily pulling up your pants as the banging continues. The door handle rattles, but it doesn't open. Thank fuck you locked it.

“We have to leave,” you pant, your heart in your throat. You fumble for your phone, then throw it into your room—you don’t need it; they can track you with that.

“No shit,” he grunts, running a hand through his disheveled pink hair.

“We gotta jump out the window,” you say, fear in your eyes. You know it’s only a matter of time before they break down the door.

You grab Jimin’s hand and pull him to the window beside your bed. Thankful that you live on the first floor, you make the jump first, landing on the dirty ground. Jimin follows, landing more gracefully. You hear the brute force of the door breaking, and you startle, fear coursing through you. But Jimin is quick, pulling you to his bike, shoving his helmet onto your head. He straddles the bike, and without much thought, you climb on behind him.

You lean against him, feeling the rapid beating of your heart. He turns on the bike, and you hear shouting and gunshots from your apartment as Jimin speeds down the rain-soaked streets. You lay your head against his back, closing your eyes against the chaos behind you.

Jimin parks his bike in front of the Whalien 52 headquarters, and you dismount first, removing the helmet and handing it to him. He follows suit, and you both stride into the building. It’s well past midnight now, and as you walk into the headquarters with Jimin, all eyes turn toward you. The tension in the room is palpable; they’ve likely been anxiously awaiting his safe return.

“Hi,” he says casually, plopping onto the couch with a soft thud.

“Who’s this?” Taehyung strides up, pointing at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, that’s Y/N. The woman who got in my way last time,” Jimin shrugs as if this is information everyone should already know.

“So you decided to take her home?” Taehyung asks in disbelief.

“I helped him gain extra information. And I want out of the New World Order,” you say, crossing your arms, not flinching under their scrutinizing stares.

“You’re the enemy though,” Yoongi joins the conversation, his voice strained with a cough.

“She really isn’t. Do you even know how much she’s risked just by coming here?” Jimin retorts, defending you without fully understanding why. He knows you can defend yourself just fine.

“I have a target on my back now. So I want to help you guys. Make things right in the world. That’s what you want to do, right?” you ask, scanning the open living room space.

The room falls silent, the weight of your words sinking in. The dim, flickering lights cast long shadows, amplifying the room’s tension. Each member of the group seems to wrestle with their thoughts, eyes flicking between you and Jimin. Finally, Seokjin steps forward, his gaze steady and thoughtful.

Seokjin approaches Jimin with an intense gaze. “Did you get all the data?”

Jimin nods silently and hands over both the USB drive and the flash drive you gave him in your apartment. Seokjin’s eyes light up with a rare glimmer of hope as he takes the hardware and retreats to his makeshift lab.

You slump down beside Jimin, exhaustion finally catching up with you. Jungkook steps forward, extending a hand. “Welcome to Whalien52, Y/N.”

You shake his hand, offering a tired smile, then lean back against Jimin. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you both allow yourselves a moment of rest. But Jimin’s mind races with concern. How quickly will the New World Order track you down? Did they follow you here?

Time becomes a blur in the dimly lit room. You drift off to sleep on Jimin’s shoulder, and his eyelids grow heavy as well. Just as he’s about to succumb to slumber, Seokjin bursts into the room, a triumphant smile lighting up his face.

“I’ve sequenced a cure from the data,” he announces, his voice brimming with joy. “And treatments for various cancers too.”

The room erupts in cheers and laughter, a collective sigh of relief and celebration filling the air.

“I’m preparing the cure for Yoongi and Bora now,” Seokjin adds, his pride evident.

Jimin feels a surge of relief and accomplishment. They’ve finally done it. You’ve secured the cure for cancer. Now Yoongi and Bora can be saved. And perhaps, just perhaps, they can save the rest of civilization. But first, they have to deal with the looming threat of the New World Order. 

The battle is far from over.

It’s been a few days, and the absence of the New World Order’s presence is unnerving. You expected them to chase you and Jimin out of the city, but they haven’t. This silence feels ominous, a dark cloud hanging over your newfound sanctuary.

You’ve settled into the daily routines of Whalien52, where hope and caution dance a tense waltz. Seokjin tirelessly crafts cures and treatments. Yoongi and Bora, the first recipients, show promising signs of recovery, their improvements a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty. The group celebrates these small victories, buzzing with a cautious optimism that almost feels too good to be true.

In these days of uneasy peace, you’ve found roles within the group. Namjoon introduced you to his intricate tech—ingenious weapons and machines designed for survival. Taehyung showed you around the small town that Whalien52 calls home. On the horizon, the Capital looms like a dark sentinel, a constant reminder of the lurking threat.

Despite the calm surface, the air is thick with anxiety. The lack of action from the New World Order feels wrong. Yoongi polishes weapons with a grim focus, and you’ve all had tense conversations about the impending attack you’re sure is coming. Jungkook echoes your concerns, insisting on readiness.

Hoseok monitors the New World Order’s communications, but all he gets is an unsettling silence. This lack of intel twists your stomach into knots. Each passing day, the tension ratchets up. The quiet eats at you, turning every creak and rustle into a potential threat.

Weeks pass, and the tension in the headquarters is palpable. You’re all on edge, constantly looking over your shoulders. Every sound is magnified, each one making you jump, hearts racing with the fear that the New World Order has finally come for you.

Everyone is exhausted, sleep deprived and on edge, each day a relentless battle against the looming threat of the New World Order. You long for an end to this tense limbo, for the chance to truly rest.

Yoongi’s condition has worsened, and Seokjin’s latest research scatters your fragile hopes. “This isn’t a cure,” he admits, deflated. “It’s just a temporary fix, a treatment.”

Yoongi coughs weakly but manages a smile, hugging his girlfriend Bora tightly. “But it helps,” he says softly. “A cure was always a dream. There’s never been a real cure for cancer, and maybe there never will be.”

Bora kisses his forehead, her eyes glistening with determination. “The treatment is helping,” she insists, caressing his cheeks. “Maybe Seokjin can alter it, make it better, stronger?” She turns to Seokjin, who nods, already lost in thought, considering how to enhance the treatment. You all want to help, driven by a fierce collective will to save Yoongi.

You walk over to Jimin, giving him a soft kiss, seeking a moment of solace. Suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot shatters the room. Bora screams in pain, and chaos erupts. You all drop to the floor, hearts pounding in sheer panic. For a moment, there’s an eerie silence, broken only by Bora’s agonized cries. You can’t see her or Yoongi, shielded by the couch.

Frantically, you search for Jimin, and his hand finds yours, squeezing tightly. The connection is a lifeline, a brief reassurance amidst the terror.

More gunshots pierce the air, and you hold your breath, praying Bora is alright. Your heart races, the reality sinking in: the New World Order is here, ready to kill you all.

With steely resolve, you clench your free hand, feeling the cold metal of your holstered gun against your thigh. 

It’s time. 

Time to make a stand. 

Time to fight back.

You look at Jimin, your eyes wide with panic as your heart pounds in your ears. He army crawls to your weapon stash, grabbing an arsenal: a rifle he slides over to Yoongi, a gun for himself, and his sword, which he straps on while still lying on the floor. Jungkook, with his tattooed hand, clutches a rifle down his length of his body. You scan the room for Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

Bora’s screams have diminished to grunts of pain. Yoongi drags her towards Seokjin’s room, leaving a trail of blood. An eerie silence falls as you watch them. You hear Yoongi's voice from Seokjin’s room, explaining that Bora’s wound is a flesh wound, pleading for Seokjin to take care of her. Yoongi crawls back into the living room.

“Is Bora okay?” you ask, sweat beading on your hairline, your breathing quick and shallow.

“Yeah. Seokjin’s got her. Namjoon, Tae, and Hobi are in there too,” Yoongi grits his teeth, his face pale with anger.

Jungkook crawls over to join you, “I guess it’s the New World Order knocking down our doors.”

“We have to fight back. Or die trying,” Yoongi spits, his anger palpable. “I’m sick and tired of them. We need to overthrow them,” he says, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. You’re all on high alert, fighting for your lives.

The door bursts open, a harsh light from outside flooding in as heavy boots stomp on the floor. You count six people by the rhythm of their steps and then a seventh, moving slowly and deliberately. Ominous, and just by the sound of the boots, you know who it is—the leader.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as your fingers curl around the trigger of your gun. The footsteps grow louder, the moment drawing closer. You roll onto your back, raising your gun for the inevitable confrontation.

Suddenly, you’re yanked by your legs, sliding across the floor with a yell, losing your grip on Jimin’s hand. The leader looms over you, a shadow of dread, as you prepare to fight for your life.

“Well, well. What have we here? Y/N. Nice to see you,” the man sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. You don’t know his name, but you remember him all too well—the leader of the New World Order, the man who had last spoken to you in his office after Jimin’s initial attempt to steal information from your former employer.

You gulp, pointing your gun at him.

He tuts dismissively, “You know that’s useless,” and with a swift kick, he sends your gun skidding across the floor.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” he hisses, his hands casually resting in his pockets while his men, guns trained on you, stand menacingly behind him.

“What you’re doing is sick,” you fume, anger bubbling within you.

Suddenly, Jimin rises, his gun aimed directly at the man before you.

Recognition flickers in the leader’s eyes, “Ah,” he chuckles darkly, “so this is the man you left me for.”

Jimin grunts, “Hands off her.”

“Protective, huh?” he laughs, a cold, mechanical sound that sends chills down your spine.

Your eyes dart between Jimin and the leader, anxiety tightening your chest. You don’t know who will be quicker on the trigger. You hold your breath, terrified for Jimin’s safety. Your heart pounds so loudly it nearly deafens you.

A gunshot echoes through the room, followed by a heavy thud. Your heart sinks as you see the leader still standing. Fear grips you, paralyzing you from turning around to check on Jimin. You feel a scream or a sob rising in your throat, maybe both.

Then, you hear the sound of someone standing up and Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, “You are one sick bastard. Keeping vital information to yourself, letting people die of cancer and radiation.” His voice is thick with anger and disdain.

The leader turns his attention to Yoongi and chuckles again, a sound you’ve come to loathe. “Only the elite deserve to live. I don’t mind letting people die to create the perfect world.”

You scoff, the revelation of his twisted ideology making you nauseous. The horror of being part of such a sick scheme churns in your stomach.

As you try to glance over your shoulder to see Jimin, one of the leader’s men grabs you, yanking you into a sitting position. Panic surges through you, but determination hardens your resolve. It’s time to fight back, no matter the cost.

Finally, you spot Jimin lying on the floor. There’s no blood, thankfully, and his hand is giving you a thumbs up. Relief floods your body, momentarily pushing back the fear.

“You are so sick,” Yoongi spits, his voice a raw edge. “You killed so many people, for what? Utopia?”

Your old boss nods, chuckling darkly. “Too much freedom breeds murder and chaos. I needed a clean slate,” he shrugs, strolling past you towards Yoongi, who keeps his rifle trained on him. “People need order. Someone to follow. When the weak and poor have died off, I’ll guide the rest into a New World Order.”

Yoongi spits on the floor, “Over my fucking dead body.” His index finger twitches towards the trigger, his stance solid and ready. 

You stop breathing.

Yoongi fires, but your old boss is faster, landing a shot in Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi hisses, dropping the rifle to the floor.

“I told you it’s useless,” your old boss sneers, chuckling. “Next time I’ll aim for the head.”

Time stretches and warps as he paces the room, taking stock of you all. You’re at a standstill, trapped in the crosshairs of his malevolent gaze. Jimin remains prone, waiting for an opportunity. Yoongi grunts in pain, clutching his wounded shoulder. Jungkook lies still, eyes flicking between you and the leader. 

It feels like game over. 

You’re all going to die.

Your old boss paces slowly, chuckling, reveling in your predicament. “I wonder who I should kill first…” he muses, dragging out the words as he turns towards you. “Your boyfriend, maybe? How do you feel about watching him die?”

Your heart pounds wildly. 

You struggle against the grip of the man holding you by your hair, pain searing through your scalp, but the thought of Jimin’s death is unbearable.

The leader strides towards Jimin, raising his gun. Your breath catches in your throat, terror gripping you as you watch. You scream with all the force in your lungs, a primal sound tearing through the air as you close your eyes, bracing for the worst.

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

The sound of three gunshots fills your ears, and you scream even louder, tears streaming down your cheeks as you call out your lover’s name. More gunshots follow, and the man holding your hair lets go, dropping you to the wooden floor with a heavy thud. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to blink them away, desperate to find Jimin.

But you don’t see him.

Panic surges through you. Where is he?

Your gaze shifts, and you see your old boss, his head snapped back from a point-blank shot, blood pooling beneath him. You gasp, turning your head just in time to see familiar lace-up boots moving purposefully across the room. Chaos reigns. Bora stands in the hallway, a rifle trained on the lifeless body of your boss. She was the one who shot him?

Jimin moves through the room like a lethal dancer, his katana slicing through enemies with precision. Jungkook is on his feet too, methodically picking off the men from the New World Order. Amid the chaos, you see Bora approach Yoongi, who is clutching his shoulder.

“Are you okay, babe?” she asks, her voice strained but determined as she examines his injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pants, noting the bandage on her thigh, stained with blood. “You should lie down.”

“I could say the same to you,” she chuckles, raising her rifle to take aim at another man.

How many are down now? You scan the room, counting seven bodies sprawled on the floor.

“Is it over?” Seokjin calls out, peeking from his room down the hall.

“I think so,” Jungkook replies, clapping his hands together, trying to shake off the tension.

The room falls into a tense silence, the aftermath of the battle settling over you like a shroud. You push yourself up, your body aching and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Jimin meets your gaze, and you feel a flicker of hope amidst the wreckage. 

For now, you’ve survived.

You rush over to Jimin, pulling him into a tight embrace, relief flooding through you. “I’m okay, babe,” he murmurs, kissing you softly. Thank God.

“We need to take the fight to their headquarters. They’ll be coming for us anyway. Better to surprise them,” Yoongi declares, his voice grim.

“Don’t you think they’d anticipate that?” Jungkook counters, eyeing Yoongi critically. “And you’re in no condition to fight, hyung.”

“The fuck I’m not. It’s just my shoulder. I’m fine,” Yoongi pants, picking up his rifle.

“Let’s go,” Bora interjects from behind Yoongi, her voice determined.

Yoongi spins around, his mouth agape. “You’re staying, babe. Your leg—”

“This is as much my fight as it is yours, and Seokjin patched me up,” she retorts, her stern look brooking no argument. Yoongi deflates, conceding to her resolve.

You all huddle together, gathering weapons for the imminent battle. Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin stay back, while the rest of you head outside to your vehicles.

You and Jimin mount his bike, while Jungkook, Yoongi, and Bora take the car. Jimin hands you a helmet, then puts on his own before revving the engine. The bike purrs to life, and with a roar, he accelerates toward the Capital, Jungkook and the others following in the car.

The journey is a blur, the rain pouring down in relentless sheets as you navigate the desolate streets. The Capital looms ahead, a monolithic reminder of the oppressive regime you’re up against. You skid to a stop in front of the New World Order headquarters, jumping off the bike with Jimin close behind. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Bora emerge from the car, weapons in hand, steely determination etched on their faces.

The rain-soaked mud reflects the harsh glow of neon lights, casting eerie shadows as you steel yourselves for the fight. The headquarters stands ominously before you, a fortress of tyranny that has caused so much suffering. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around your gun.

It’s time to end this.

“Follow me. The building is massive,” you say, leading the way into your old workplace. Navigating the familiar lower floors is swift; they’re almost deserted. Jimin dances with his katana, each swing mesmerizing, cutting down any opposition with ease. 

Clearing the lower levels quickly, you ascend the stairs, banging open doors and moving through the less familiar upper halls. The men from the New World Order fall easily; many surrender, unwilling to defend a crumbling regime. 

Finally, you reach the top floor, the office of your now-dead boss. Stepping inside, you look out through the tall windows overlooking the city. 

“What do we do now?” you ask, your voice echoing in the silence. 

The horizon flickers with a strange yellow glow. 

Jimin, his katana sheathed on his back, joins you. “Is that the sun?” he asks, his eyes following yours.

“I think it is,” Bora says, intertwining her fingers with Yoongi’s.

“Now that the New World Order is gone,” Yoongi muses, “won’t another group try to take its place?”

“Maybe,” you respond, lost in thought.

Jungkook chuckles beside you. “We’ll make sure no one does. All information will be free and accessible.”

“Aren’t we just like the New World Order then?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Jungkook replies firmly. “We’ll let people live freely, with no ‘order’ imposed.”

You all hum in agreement, turning your gaze to the horizon. For the first time in a long while, the oppressive clouds of the Capital part, slowly revealing the sun. The relentless rain stops, and you feel the air shift—this is a new beginning.

→ Taglist: @jeonsbabygirlsworld @11thenightwemet11 @haru-jiminn → Disclaimer: the photo of kitty gang Jimin is a concert photo by a fansite, and I’ve been trying to reverse google search the image to find the fansite/photographer, but without luck. I can see on the original that the fansite name is something along the lines of ‘CelestialYM9999’ but that show on results on google either. If you know the fansite, please let me know so I can credit properly (my photography brain really wants to give proper credit). → Author’s note(2): what do you think? Please let me know! A big shoutout and thank you to @manipulatedstars for having the idea to make Jungkook run a survivalist camp 🥳💜 Now, I can’t wait to write something that isn’t action— back to my sappy romance writing! I think one of the mermaid fics is next on my list ✨

[pupyuj]

→ “dress.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— you thought it was about time that you gift yujin a special present, especially after all she has done for you and given to you...

word count: 8.7k.

dynamic: dom!sugar mommy!ahn yujin x sub!sugar baby!reader.

content warnings: smut, use of strap-on, cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, overstimulation, edging, praise kink, mommy kink, degradation, spanking, spitting.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: THIS ONE TOOK FOREVERRRR i'm glad to be finally letting it fly 🤓

gift giving had to be your favorite love language. it’s the way your friends’ face lit up whenever they receive something they like from you. their smile, the way they would immediately hug you — it made your heart feel full. sure, the money you used was barely yours but technically, you did have to ‘work’ to get said money. your friends never questioned how you could easily buy them expensive jewelry and clothes at the drop of the hat and you were thankful, because you haven’t got the slightest idea as to how to explain to them that you have a sugar mommy.

and that it’s the very same sugar mommy that you ditched movie night with them for. instead of snuggling with your friends in a pillow fort watching bad 90’s movies, you were sitting at a lavish five-star restaurant that served exquisite french cuisine. and the pretty woman staring intently at you right across the table, wearing a loose suit that looked way too good on her? ahn yujin.

older, mature, clever, and roguishly handsome as much as she is beautiful, ahn yujin was simply an irresistible woman. she was charming, and had given you butterflies in a way nobody ever has when she first approached you with her offer—the offer—so naturally, you couldn’t say no. not that you wanted to say no to her anyway. just look at her!

she smiled once you met her eyes, “you didn’t have to doll yourself up for a simple dinner.” she said, taking note of the branded clothes that you wore. her gifts. you looked down at your food bashfully. was it obvious that you poured way too much effort into your appearance? you did spend at least an hour and a half getting ready for this meeting.

“we haven’t seen each other in a while. i wanted to look good for you.” you confessed, blushing.

“well, you look beautiful,” yujin says as she reached for your hand across the table. you muttered a small ‘thank you’, gently squeezing her hand. “although, had i known that you would do all this just for me, i would have picked you right up from your door instead of letting you take a taxi.”

you shook your head, “you just got off work, and i live on the other side of the city. i didn’t want to tire you out, mo— yujin.” you cleared your throat, hoping that the guests in the nearby tables did not catch on to your slip up. yujin definitely did, seeing the smirk that appeared on her face.

nevertheless, yujin pretends she didn’t hear it. she merely leans back on her seat and crosses her arms, “i guess not. we have a long night ahead of us, don’t we?” she asked. you stared at the suggestive look in her eyes, already feeling your core buzzing from anticipation.

you smiled innocently at her, “indeed.” you agreed, taking a sip of your water.

you couldn’t wait until she takes you to her home.

and just like that, the night went by quickly. after dinner, the two of you decided to take a walk in a park, where you rested quietly on a bench, talking about what each of you had been up to weeks before. the entire time at the park, you couldn’t get over the way yujin’s dark eyes just pierced through you, more than eager to take you home, but she was too much of a gentlewoman to interrupt you while talking.

and of course, when the air got significantly colder, the night finally, finally started. the ride back to yujin’s house (her mansion, actually) was pleasantly quiet with only the soft tunes of the radio filling the silence in the air. yujin had her hand on your thigh, gently caressing your skin with her thumb and totally ignoring the way you occasionally squeezed your thighs together to calm that feeling in your core. towards the end of the ride, you couldn’t resist taking yujin’s hand and kissing it. she quite liked that.

you got some texts from your friends. they were asking if you got home safely from wherever you went and if you had fun, but you really couldn’t be bothered to reply when yujin’s lips were on your neck.

“did you miss me, baby?” she asked between kisses. you were on her lap, trying your hardest not to grind your core on her now exposed thigh because she was taking an excruciatingly long time touching you. it was irritating, but it always started out like this.

frustratingly slow, but so very worth it.

“ye—mhm… yes, mommy.. very much.”

she was leaving marks all over your skin; from your neck, to your collarbone, to your shoulders. she was usually more careful with that whole thing, but after not seeing you for weeks, she couldn’t help herself.

you turned your head to give yujin better access, not at all caring about the questions that might come from people once they see her work. conveniently enough, your phone buzzes. someone was calling.

“hm? who’s riki?” yujin whispered against your skin, glaring at the caller id on your phone.

“a friend… just a friend, mommy.”

“boy?” yujin asked, dark eyes looking up at you.

you nodded, “b-but he’s nothing. he’s not important.” did it hurt you to say that? a lot, yes. did it hurt turning off your phone, ignoring your friend’s call, and kicking it off the bed? oh, yeah. but it made yujin smile, it made her happy. and because of that, you decided that you didn’t care that it hurt.

“i’m all yours, mommy. nothing to worry about.” you reassured her, cupping her cheeks and putting your lips on hers. she returns the kiss, gripping you by the waist and pulling you closer to her. she brushes her tongue along your lips and you open your mouth obediently, moaning at the taste of her tongue.

on yujin’s crotch sat a strap, it was thicker than an average one and colored blue — your favorite. but you didn’t dare to make any movements towards it. as much as you wanted your mommy to pound you, you knew better than to be impatient and test her patience. you knew that yujin would give you anything you want anyway, you just had to wait.

yujin hiked your skirt up to your waist, her other hand making its way up to your thigh and then stopping at your soaked lingerie. she keeps on kissing you and even though your lungs burned for air, you kept the same energy for her. you didn’t want to disappoint her so early in the act.

you felt yujin’s fingers circling your clit gently. too gently.

you broke the kiss, gasping for air. “mmhm… mommyy…” you couldn’t help but whine.

“i know, baby. just be a good girl, m’kay?” yujin smiles at you, a clear message saying that you will be teased like hell tonight. you whined again, shaking your head, but you couldn’t do anything about it. it’s not like you could just push her down on the bed and ride her strap yourself. that would result in a punishment much more painful than being pounded out of your mind, which was being ignored.

“take this off,” yujin said, tugging at your top. obediently, you pulled the clothing over your head, revealing the thin bra that you wore just for yujin. she smiles when she realized your intent. “such a sweet girl. i missed you.” she kisses you again, much more softer this time.

yujin had been gone for a business trip weeks ago and even when she got home, she couldn’t meet up with you due to her busy schedule. and of course, yours as well. you had to suffice with sending her photos and videos of yourself. very rarely did she call you but when she did, you would end the night with your hand inside your shorts, touching yourself while yujin instructed you. none of it was really enough for you, though. even when you came several times during those calls, all you wanted was for yujin to come home and take care of you herself. it was actually a miracle that you managed to hold yourself back from immediately pouncing on her when she took you to her house tonight.

‘my poor mommy,’ you thought to yourself as you threaded yujin’s hair with your fingers while she kissed you. you felt her hands groping your tits and then move to your back to unclasp your bra. as soon as it was off, yujin starts playing with your nipples using her thumbs, smiling in satisfaction when you moaned into her mouth. ‘having to deal with those stupid men from her company for weeks on end.’

‘i’m gonna be really good for her. she deserves that much.’ you decided, throwing your head back in pleasure when yujin captures one of your hard nipples with her warm mouth. she pinches and pulls on the other one with her fingers which only made you tug on her hair a bit and whine. god, you were drenched. and horny to the point where you might just cum from yujin sucking on your breasts. just how much longer was she going to keep you waiting? you just wanted her to fill your holes already.

yujin flicks your hard bud with her tongue, and you grip her hair just a little tighter. yujin releases your nipple with a pop, and immediately repeats the same actions to the other one. one of yujin’s hands slips inside your lingerie and starts massaging your folds, while her other arm kept you close. fuck, it felt embarrassing moaning so loudly when she was barely doing anything but it was so hard keeping any sounds contained inside of you. yujin just made you feel too good.

“are you gonna cum just from this? huh?” yujin asked after a while, looking up at you with a smile. you could only whimper in reply, eyes a bit teary from the desperation. “you’re such a slut. you missed me that much? you’re not gonna wait for mommy’s cock?”

“nn-no… no, i’ll wait… ahh— i’ll wait for mommy…” you promised. she was challenging you. yujin knew from the way you closed your eyes tightly that you were trying your very hardest not to cum. your pride absolutely refused to allow you to, anyway.

yujin grins, “that’s my girl.” she places a kiss on your chest and pulls her hand out of your panties. you pouted, knowing it really will take a while before yujin fills you up. yujin notices this and pats your thigh, “don’t be sad, baby. we’re getting there. come on. on your knees.”

you kneeled down on the carpeted floor in front of her. your face was right in front of her strap, and then it hit you.

yujin chuckles at the way your eyes lit up, “i guess you know what to do, right? i can’t go inside you unless this is all wet.” yujin presses the tip of her strap against your lips and without wasting another second, you took it inside your mouth and started working. you already looked like a desperate whore, why not take it all the way? your eyes flickered up to meet yujin’s, and she was in the process of unbuttoning the white dress shirt she was wearing.

good god was ahn yujin’s body gorgeous. from her round, soft breasts to her perfectly sculpted abs… your clit throbbed just looking at her.

“baby, all of it.” yujin puts a hand on top of your head and pushes your mouth further down on her plastic cock. your hands clutched the bedsheets as you gagged from the size. “look at you sucking it off like it’s the real thing…” yujin says while chuckling. you could care less about how stupid this was — you’d do anything as long as it means getting fucked by yujin faster.

once she was satisfied, yujin pulled your head off the strap by your hair. “i have to admit… this little ‘riki’ boy got me worried about what you might have been doing while i was gone.” she said, pulling your hair down by the back of your head so you’re completely looking up at her.

you shook your head frantically, immediately knowing what she was implying. “no, no, mommy. i would never.”

“really? you’re telling me that you didn’t go around the city looking for someone to fill up that slutty little hole of yours while mommy was at work?” yujin tightens her grip. you could tell she was actually upset by the way her eyes showed zero signs of playfulness. she wasn’t teasing you this time.

“i didn’t. please—” you hissed at the pain. “please believe me. i belong to you, mommy. i promise. i promise.”

why would she even assume that you would even think of letting someone else touch you? even if other people got that chance, which is very fucking unlikely, they wouldn’t be able to make you feel good. nobody knows your body the way yujin does. no one else compares, it’s that simple.

“do you mean that?” yujin asked, her voice now taking on a more softer tone.

“every word.” there was simply no other answer.

yujin grabs your jaw with her free hand, “open up.” and so you do. you opened up your mouth, thinking that yujin was going to use your throat herself but instead, she leans close to your face, and she spits inside your mouth.

yujin quickly closes your jaw with her hand before you could even think of spitting it out, “swallow.” she demands harshly. of course, you had no other choice but to do what she says. you do what you were told, keeping eye contact to prove a point. yujin smiles in satisfaction and pats your cheek, once again happy.

again, you would do anything for yujin.

she lets go of your hair and starts petting your head, “you’ve been a really good girl tonight… wanna get your reward?” she asked.

you perked up, “yes… yes, please.”

yujin nodded her head towards bed and you immediately got up from the floor. your heart was beating erratically. finally. she was finally going to fuck you out of your mind.

you sat on the bed across from yujin, looking up at her. she tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “you know your safe words, right?” she asked. you nodded, leaning into her touch. of course, despite everything that led up to this moment, yujin will still try to take care of you as much as she could. it makes your heart swell with something. you don’t exactly know what. and do you even want to know?

“tell me.” yujin said, running her thumb across your bottom lip.

“wait,” yujin hums, urging you to continue. “and no more. or i could tap out.”

“good,” yujin brings your face up to her and kisses your lips briefly. “now flip over.” she whispered against your lips. obediently, you did as you were told. yujin held your ass up with one hand and lined up her strap across your dripping, gaping cunt with the other. without warning, yujin plunges half of the cock inside of you, making you grip the bedsheets and gasp loudly.

you turned your head slightly to look at her, and she was smirking down at you. “take it, darling.” was what yujin said before pushing her strap deeper inside of you. you choked out a moan, and buried your head on yujin’s pillow, muffling any other sounds that came out of your mouth. but yujin was quick to grab you hair and pull your head back up, “scream. i want to hear you.”

as yujin thrusted her strap inside of you, slowly but roughly, you didn’t try to hide the sounds that she brought out of you. god knows you both needed this. you’ve gone weeks too long feeling empty, but now yujin was here, really here. she filled you up so well too, always making sure to use the entire strap’s length to penetrate your sweet spots just right. looking at yujin, with her dress shirt open and her black hair a bit of a mess from how roughly she pounded into you… it was enough to send you over the edge but you wanted to enjoy yourself a little longer.

yujin spreads your cheeks, finally picking up her pace and bringing you closer to an early climax. but you refused to give in just like that. yujin hasn’t even gotten started yet, you knew she would be disappointed if you let go of yourself so early. so you held on, completely ignoring the tightening in your abdomen and continuing on taking everything yujin was giving you: from her thrusts, to her hair pulling, her scratchings, and the slaps to your ass.

“if i were given a choice.. shit, baby… i would’ve brought you along with me on that trip,” yujin grips your ass tightly. she was going to leave marks for sure. “you know how much i missed this tight pussy of yours? hm? it was hard—fuck—trying to get through the day without having you writhe under me…” yujin moves down and leans her mouth close to your ear, “i’m gonna ruin you over and over tonight, baby girl. okay?”

god, her words just drove you insane. you nodded your head desperately, “yes, y-yes, mommy..! i’m yours, i’m all yours…”

yujin visits the gym regularly to keep herself healthy. and of course, you would know that because you have, in fact, accompanied her on one of her workout days once and miraculously did not get caught when she fucked you in the locker room. so, basically, it was easy for yujin to manhandle you, especially when you were in such a vulnerable position. she makes sure you were down on your knees instead of just laying down, and whenever you were losing strength in your legs, she keeps you up. you looked at her again, begging her to let you lay down with a look in your eyes but she merely glares at you before continuing to fuck into you like you were a damn fleshlight.

you clutched the bedsheets with a death grip, feeling the familiar pressure in your stomach building up when the strap starts brushing against all of your good spots. yujin would never let you come that easily. but fuck, you didn’t know how long you can keep it up.

“m-mommy…? please… i ha—aghh… i have t-to…”

“no. be a good whore and wait until i tell you when you can.”

you wanted to talk back and get her riled up, but at this point in time, she might just deny you of your release completely.

yujin keeps on thrusting into you in the same, mildly fast pace for minutes on end. every time you were brought closer to your climax, she rips it away completely and ignores your whines. you knew she wanted to make this night last as much as you did but fuck, you didn’t realize she wanted it to drag on! you loved it, of course. yujin was having fun and that all she deserved after weeks and weeks of nothing but work, but on the other hand, you fucking hated it too because you just wanted to cum so bad…

and you really thought she was finally letting you when she hits the spot.

you grabbed onto one of the pillows for dear life, soaking it with your tears. you were so fucking close. you didn’t even know how you’ve managed to hold on until now. “please, mommy..! please, please, plea—”

but all it takes for yujin to shut all your hopes down was to say one simple word, “no.”

fuck. at this point, you didn’t know if you were still moaning from the pleasure, or if you were sobbing from the pain and yujin being stubborn. maybe both. but fuck, you were exhausted and truthfully, a bit scared to make yujin angry so you still. keep. holding on. and it inflated the fuck out of yujin’s ego because wow, the things you would willing go through for her…?

“my obedient little slut… you make mommy so happy,” yujin said. she leans forward, putting her hands down on the bed (one holding down your wrist and the other intertwined with your other hand), and speeds up her thrusts. “you’re really gonna do anything for me, huh?” she says, her hot breath on your ear.

you nodded, leaning against her, “everything, mommy… i’ll do everything…”

“that’s my girl. you always know the right things to say,” she lets go of your wrist and uses her hand to pull your hair back, then she forces you to turn your head and kisses you. she was getting faster, bringing you closer to the edge once again. this time, however, you weren’t going to let her play with you again. you started moving your hips so that you would be fucking yourself into her strap. you feared that yujin might get angry at this but you hear her laugh. “fuck. good girl.” she said and then slaps your ass.

finally, she allows you to lay down. yujin grabs your waist in a tight grip and started moving you. she loved the sight of your ass bouncing as she pounded into you, and the red marks that started to form was an added bonus too. she might come with you at this rate.

“mommy’s gonna make you come real good, okay?” yujin said, peppering your shoulder with kisses while you’re nodding mindlessly. you would agree with anything she asked you, you were completely out of your mind. focused on one thing only. yujin uses her one free hand (she was still holding yours with her other one. she knew it kept you grounded.) and slides two fingers inside your mouth. you sucked on them, moaning and gagging on her long digits before she pulls them out.

yujin reaches down your body, “stay still, baby.” she says before circling your clit with her fingers that were covered in your spit.

you were pretty sure you were hurting yujin with the way you held onto her hand impossibly tight. tears spilled out of your eyes as she kept on pleasuring your clit, making it even more difficult for you to keep your promise of not coming. shit, it was too much. she has never edged you for this long and this intensely before… as bad as that sounded, it brought you comfort and you would be smiling at the thought if you weren’t fucking crying because if anything, this just confirms that yujin really did miss you.

“mommy…! sto—oh, god…!!” you sobbed, shaking your head as you felt yourself slowly losing control. you could feel yujin grinning against your shoulder. what a dick, but you couldn’t say that.

“it’s okay, baby. now. come.” yujin nearly pulls the strap all the way off of your cunt before plunging it back in, hard and using its full length. at the same time, she pressed her fingers against your clit and really, that was all it took for you to finally let go. you came with a long moan, shaking as yujin continues to rub your clit, riding out your orgasm and truly just making it all last.

your cum was seemingly everywhere: on her strap, her fingers, trickling down your thighs, on the bedsheets… it was relieving for all of that pressure that was stuck in your abdomen to finally be gone. after a while, yujin cautiously pulls the strap out of you, takes it off of herself before throwing it on the floor. she was going to have to clean up the mess the two of you made tomorrow. but for now? you needed her in another way.

yujin completely takes off her dress shirt and her bra before she laid down on the empty space beside you, immediately cooping you up in her arms and kissing your damp forehead. you were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down, eyes dark and unfocused, and lips quivering.

yujin wipes the tears off of your cheeks and held you close, “you did a good job, baby. get some rest. i promise i’ll take care of you lots tomorrow.” unable to reply due to your voice completely just disappearing after you’ve used it to scream ‘mommy’ all night, you merely put your arm around yujin’s waist and rested your head on her chest. it was easy to fall asleep after that, with only yujin’s steady heartbeat accompanying you into your safe place.

the morning after, you woke up alone.

which wasn’t a rare occurrence. considering it was nearly ten in the morning, yujin should be sitting in her office miles away from her house right now. it was routine at this point: you wake up, yujin’s gone and all she has left you is a text message, maybe breakfast, and a hefty amount of money in your bank. so, imagine your surprise when you sat up, rubbing your eyes and wincing at the soreness that coursed throughout your body, and there was yujin entering the bedroom in a bathrobe, drying her wet hair with a towel.

“oh, good morning,” yujin says. she approaches the bed, brushing your hair away from your face. her hands were so gentle, greatly contrasting the way she completely ruined you with them the night before. yujin leans in and leaves a quick kiss on your forehead, and then she chuckles lightly at your dazed expression. “what’s wrong?” she asks, sitting on the bed.

“it’s just… rare to see you here…” you said, your voice hoarse.

“i called in. i promised i would take care of you, didn’t i?” yujin reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table and hands it over to you. yujin watches as you drank the contents of the glass… it was a simple action but for some reason, you got her heart beating louder and faster, and warmth spread in her chest when you smiled at her, saying a small ‘thank you’ before putting the glass back on the bedside table. in yujin’s opinion, you’ve never looked more beautiful than this: a bit exhausted, and very obviously fucked out but the morning glow looked so good on you.

yujin gently takes your chin in her hand and pulls you in, catching your lips in a soft kiss. something about this one felt different. it was in the way her lips quivered as it moved against yours, the way her eyes held nothing but adoration for you when she leaned back, the way she smiled shyly under your gaze, and the way she laughed softly when you gave in to your temptations and chased after her lips.

you spent a good few minutes, maybe even longer, kissing yujin. ocassionally sharing soft smiles, longing gazes, and quiet, short conversations before connecting your lips again.

“i got the bath ready for you. can you walk?” yujin asked after a while.

you nodded, “a little.” it was a lie. you could lay on the bed the entire day if you had a choice.

“you just want me to carry you there, don’t you?” yujin teased, bumping her nose into yours. you giggled, basically throwing yourself on yujin’s lap and lacing your arms around her neck. yujin was able to lift you up easily, and she took you to the lavish bathroom that she had in the house. it was the size of your room in your apartment.

“you can help yourself in my closet after you’re done,” yujin says after you’ve put both of your feet on the ground. she kisses you again, a bit deeper this time but it was quick. you could not express with enough words how addicting her lips were. “breakfast will be ready soon. i’ll be downstairs, okay?” and with that, yujin squeezes your hands before leaving, closing the door behind her.

did she have to be such a heartthrob?

needless to say, you got in the bathtub happy. and as you sat there, basking in the warm water and the sweet aroma of whatever soap yujin used, you started to think about all of the things yujin has done for you. of course, she makes sure you’re secured financially and that every meeting was worth your time, not to mention her randomly-timed and unnecessarily expensive gifts too. maybe it was time that you give back.

but what could a filthy rich and accomplished cfo of a distinguished company want more in life? yujin has it all: looks, brains, a handsome car, a big mansion, the cutest pair of dimples of ever, and a doll she could play with whenever she pleases.

then, it hit you.

“that’s perfect!” you muttered to yourself after putting your idea together in your head.

after your bath, you made your way back to yujin’s bedroom and opened up her massive walk-in closet. there was an array of clothes tailored specifically for yujin, and some she bought for herself taht you imagine costs more than your entire life. but, you headed straight for a drawer filled with her t-shirts. all of them were just as expensive as the dress shirts and the blazers, but yujin allows you to wear them because she knew how much you liked them.

you decided to wear your favorite one: a grey oversized tee embroidered with shooting stars in front. you paired it up with some random jean shorts you kept in one of the drawers and rushed downstairs. you smelled entirely like yujin, you loved it, and you knew she would too.

when you reached the kitchen, yujin, now fully clothed, had just finished preparing your coffee. you reached out for her arm and pulled her into you, “mommy, you like pretty things, right?” you asked with a grin.

yujin turns around and pulls you into her embrace, her hands resting on your hips, “why do you think i chose you, baby?” you swore your heart grew several sizes. you smiled up at her and then put your hands behind her neck, gently pushing her head down and catching her lips in a searing kiss. when yujin’s hands once again sneak underneath your shirt, the next few things that happened became a blur but one thing was for sure… you were going to take care of her next time.

“i’ve noticed something about you recently, (y/n).” your friend, wonyoung, suddenly said as the two of you browsed through a collection of expensive dresses at an outlet mall. her girlfriend, and your roommate, jiwon was elsewhere with your other roommate seonwoo and the friend that you ignored when you were with yujin, riki.

“what, do i have a pimple or something?” you asked, touching your face subconsciously.

“no,” wonyoung takes your hands off of your face with a laugh. “you’ve been looking… happier. not that you were ever depressed or anything but these days you’re glowing, you’re confident, and… you smile a lot more. specifically when you’re on your phone.” and of course wonyoung sees all that. as close as you were with jiwon, it was her girlfriend manages to read you like a book.

“what can i say? i love cookie run.” you joked, barely dodging the gentle slap on your shoulder that came from wonyoung.

“i’m serious, (y/n)-ah! are you dating someone?”

weeks ago, you would have denied her in a heartbeat with a reasonable enough excuse but now you don’t exactly know how to respond to that question. because after that meeting with yujin, the two of you have only gotten closer… and sweeter. you talk to each other in texts and not just send dirty photos, videos, or sexts. and the three previous meetings you’ve had, they have been so fun.

of course, the night always ended with you under yujin, but even the sex seemed to mean something more now.

wonyoung grabs your collar and opens up your jacket, and there she sees fresh hickies and bite marks across your neck and chest. “i knew it!” she gasped, bouncing on her feet and she excitedly hits your arm.

“wonyoung, you cannot be undressing me like that in public and while being taken by my best friend!” you said, swatting her hands away and covering yourself up again. oh yeah, apparently, yujin being careless with how she marked you was an added bonus in this level of your relationship.

'relationship'? you don’t even know anymore.

“tell me about her right now, (y/n)! does she go to our school? or some other university? older? younger? taller? i need to know! is she hot??” wonyoung was shaking you back and forth. the two of you have gotten several glances and looks from the other customers since wonyoung made no effort to lower her voice. nobody can blame wonyoung for getting excited though, you never really indulge yourself in romantic relationships since you had a lot to worry about. school, your family back at your hometown, money, rent… in fact, even before yujin, you’ve never let anybody make it past the first date.

you always thought it would be a waste of time, and that you’d rather put your energy into making yourself happy by tackling your hundred-or-so problems. turns out you can have both. and yujin made you realize that.

huh.

“w-we’re not dating, we’re just…” you sighed, blushing at the mere thought of yujin. this was weird. “it’s complicated, wonyoung. i don’t want to talk about it.”

the taller girl was smarter than that, however, and after staring at you for a good minute or two, she grins. “oh, it’s that kind of relationship.” she teased, nudging your arm while wiggling her eyebrows. you rolled your eyes. as pretty as she was, wonyoung can be so annoying. “wait… you’re shopping for her, aren’t you? oh my god, (y/n), you whore.” wonyoung slaps your arm, giggling.

you bowed profusely at the poor mother with a child who walked past as wonyoung said those words, and glared at your friend, “do not tell jiwon and the boys about this. they’ll have a heart attack.”

wonyoung scoffs, “they can’t just gatekeep you forever! sooner or later, they’re gonna have to accept that you’ll eventually claim your destiny as some sexy rich woman’s living fleshlight.” you kicked her in the shin, but it didn’t affect her whatsoever. god, you wished you brought jiwon along with you instead of her. at least jiwon wouldn’t even think to ask about your sex life!

“is she sexy and rich?” wonyoung asked. she was never going to leave alone, wasn’t she?

with a deep sigh you answered, “emphasis on rich. bigger emphasis on sexy.”

wonyoung squeals, suddenly grabs your arm and drags you away to some other section of the store, “you’re seeing her again soon, aren’t you? i have the perfect dress for you!” well, at least she’s helping. and when you looked in the mirror wearing the sleek and shiny black dress that barely left anything to the imagination, you can’t help but be as excited about this next meeting as wonyoung… perhaps even more.

“you are so going to get fucked out.”

“there are children in this fitting room, wonyoung. please—”

that night, after jiwon and wonyoung, as well as seonwoo, have tucked in for the night, you decided to call yujin, staring deeply at the dress that hung in front of your closet.

“hi, baby. it’s pretty late. do you need something?”

you ran your hand down the dress, feeling its silky material. you could just imagine yujin completely ruining you in it, and of course the thought gets you wet almost immediately.

“just wondering if i could come over sooner than we planned?”

you heard yujin laugh from the other end, “you miss me already?”

“i always do, mommy.”

“really?” you bit your lip, knowing full well what yujin was going to make you do next. you quickly pulled off your shorts, looking at your soaked panties and cringing at how much of a desperate slut you were. but how could you ever resist? especially when yujin says, “show me how much you miss me, darling.”

she was going to drive you mad.

well, three days later, you found herself standing in front of the gates of yujin’s mansion, clad in that black dress and holding a paper bag with cake in it.

yujin had mentioned that she has gotten busy again, but totally agreed on letting you come over and allowing you to do whatever you want in the house before she finishes off what she was doing and joins you. but you had a plan in mind, one that doesn’t require yujin to leave her office, or her chair at all. as for the cake, well, yujin loved caramel cakes so you just thought it would be a nice gesture. especially after you heard how tired she has been leading up to this day.

no, it will not be incorporated into whatever you will be doing with her today… but maybe in the future.

you were forcibly taken away from your head when the gates slid open. you entered and headed straight for the front doors, a duplicate of yujin’s house key ready in your hand. upon entering the mansion, you took off your jacket and hung it in the coat rack by the door before heading straight upstairs where you know yujin would be holed up at. a few ways away from her massive bedroom was her office, and you’ve spent as much of your time there as you do in yujin’s bedroom. mostly because that was where yujin did a lot of her work when she wasn’t in the actual company building, meaning that she would be pissed off more than she was happy, meaning that you would be bent over her desk getting fucked to oblivion as a means to reduce yujin’s stress.

you knocked softly on the door, but there wasn’t a response right away. you were about to knock again when you hear yujin’s muffled shouting, possibly over the phone with one of her annoying coworkers or seniors. a frown makes its way to your face when you heard yujin curse sharply under her breath, then a soft ‘thud’, and yujin speaking more quietly but still scarily.

you wanted your surprise to be perfect, so you stood still in front of the door, waiting until yujin has at least calmed down a bit. but perhaps it was a bad time? maybe you shouldn’t have asked to come over ahead of what was originally planned… yujin sets them up for a reason, after all. maybe this was the reason. she is a businesswoman through and through, and now you were afraid that maybe you were just being a nuisance.

yujin clicks her tongue sharply again, and then she was raising her voice once more. you could hear her footsteps as she paced around her office — frantic, heavy, and angry. then, you heard another ‘thud’, and that was when you decided that you needed to be here. for her.

finally, you knocked. a little more loudly than the last time.

“(y/n)?”

her voice was soft. your heart skipped a beat.

“y-yes. it’s me.”

oh, you were so whipped.

“it’s open. come in.”

you pushed the door open and it turns out that yujin had her back turned from the door, facing her bookshelf with her hand on her hip and her other hand still holding her phone close to her ear. she doesn’t look at you when you came in, probably hasn’t even realized it.

“who is…? she’s none of your business. don’t change the subject. focus, and do your fucking job,” yujin moves her free hand to massage her temple. she taps her foot on the carpeted floor, growing increasingly impatient once again. “if i hear anything about you mistreating my assistant in my absence again, i swear to god you’re going to regret choosing to work for this company. leave rei alone.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at the mention of yujin’s assistant. you’ve met her before. she was always the first one to greet you and talk to you kindly whenever you used to visit yujin at the building. she kept you company when yujin was in meetings, the ones that didn’t require for her to attend too, anyway. at first, you were jealous of her. she got to spend a lot of time with yujin and back then, you thought that maybe they had something together… but it turns out that they have been friends for a long time, and their relationship have always been, and always will be, platonic.

plus, rei recently told you that she was ‘rooting for you and yujin’. so yeah, somebody is going to lose an arm if you find out that they ever messed with her.

“feel free to not contact me for the rest of the week.”

yujin ends the call before the person on the other end could respond. you watched as she sighed deeply, took a few breaths in, and finally regained her composure.

“sorry you had to hear all that. they’re driving me crazy.”

you gently placed the bag on the couch and approached yujin, who was still massaging her temples. you grabbed her wrists and turned her around slowly, and immediately, she hugged you, burying her face on the crook of your neck and tightly wrapping her arms around your waist. you pat her back softly, your other hand combing through her hair before you pushed her back. you cupped yujin’s cheeks in your hands and stared deeply into her troubled eyes.

“are you okay?” you asked. yujin nods wordlessly and leans down to kiss you, which you allow her to. your kisses have turned into something else too. they’re more gentle, slow, and loving. even during the heat of a moment, you feel nothing but your growing feelings as yujin kisses you. you could only hope that she felt it too.

it takes a while for yujin to pull away. when she did, you head was hazy and you were gasping for breath, but you sufficed a satisfied smile when you saw the look on yujin’s face as she scanned your outfit from head to toe. yujin bites her lower lip as she checked you out shamelessly, even taking a step back to get a better view of your look. “for me?” she says, moving her hands to your hips and squeezing your gently.

“it’s always for you, mommy. you should know that by now,” you took note of yujin’s casual attire too. the oversized blue and white striped button-up and some simple white shorts and yet you would let her absolutely ruin you until sunrise. maybe it was the first three buttons being undone, or the half-up ponytail, or simply just yujin that made her so fucking sexy. “do you like it?” you asked.

yujin smirks, she cannot stop looking at you up and down, “you’ll find out.”

merely minutes later, you were sitting on top of yujin’s desk, moaning into her mouth as she kisses you hungrily while one of her hands is in between your thighs, pressing against your throbbing clit through your wet panties. as for yujin’s other hand, it was behind you, taking a hold of the zipper on your dress and pulling it down. you were so glad wonyoung bullied you into not wearing a bra—

(“(y/n), nobody wears a bra in a strapless dress. screw security, let the woman fuck you without interruptions!”

“wait, what?”

“oh shit. hey, baby! jiwon.. uh, long story…”)

—because it was easy for yujin to just lean down and catch one of your now exposed nipples in her mouth. while she did that, you opened up your legs a bit more and started grinding yourself on yujin’s hand, desperate for more but as always, not really having the patience for it.

yujin pinches your clit through your panties and you moan loudly, arching your back a little and pushing yujin’s head further on your chest. it only made you grind on her hand faster, and yujin grins while she looks up at you, loving the desperate look on your face. it felt too hot in here. and not the kind of hot that increased your libido, but the one that fucking irritated you. you tug on yujin’s shirt, “mommy… take it off, please…” you begged. you wanted to feel her skin against you… now that’s the kind of hot you could get behind.

“aw, well. anything for my princess.”

you could’ve come right there.

yujin starts unbuttoning her shirt, looking straight at you as she did so. you helped her pull it off her body and threw it on the ground, and then you pulled her back into you. you put one hand on her toned stomach—oh fuck, those abs—and leaned in, putting your lips on her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and a few marks here and there. yujin slides her hands underneath your dress and pulls down your black, lacy underwear before letting it fall to the ground, directly laying on top of her shirt.

you continued on kissing yujin’s neck, relishing in the sounds of her quiet moans. ocassionally, you looked up to find her smiling down at you and during those moments, you share a quick kiss before going back to marking her up.

you were yujin’s, yes. but the world has to know that yujin was yours.

yujin probably noticed your intent, hearing her chuckle before grabbing your face and making you look up at her, “i’m not going anywhere, baby. i belong to you as much as you belong to me.” she whispered against your lips.

ahn yujin belongs to you.

you.

yeah, you were going to think about that all day.

yujin takes a seat on her chair, then she puts her hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart, giving herself a full view of your dripping pussy. you one of her hands and brought it up to your lips, giving it a kiss. “go ahead and make your day better, mommy.”

yujin glances up at you and smiles, a genuine smile, “it already did the moment i saw you.” she keeps your hands intertwined, and you stare at each other for a good minute.

that was where you realized that wow…

you were pretty fucking in love with yujin.

you had time to freak out about this revelation later, because when yujin's lips make contact with your folds, your mind goes elsewhere. your free hand goes to the back of yujin's neck, pushing her in further. fuck, if yujin was going to do two things great, it's using her hands and mouth on you. every lick, every touch, every single one, always had your head spinning, had you begging for more. and more yujin always gave you.

she is your sugar mommy, what else is she good for otherwise?

yujin reaches between your thighs and parts your folds with her fingers, giving your pussy one long lick before catching your clit with her lips. you gripped her shoulder tightly, throwing your head back and moaning when suddenly, yujin inserts two fingers inside of you and starts moving them in and out.

it was a reasonable pace but the feeling of both her mouth and fingers on your pussy was too good that she had your legs shaking already.

“mmhm.. fuck…! more, mommy.. more, please…”

you wrapped your legs around yujin's neck and pulled her face impossibly closer to your cunt. she moans at the flavor of your juices on her tongue, feeling like she could probably eat you out all day if she wanted. you were her favorite taste, and there was nothing better than yujin getting a well-deserved meal after dealing with the annoying fucks in her company. (save for rei, bless her heart.)

yujin was grateful for you, and through this, she gets to express just how much.

“ah— yujin…!”

has she ever told you how much she loved it when you said her name? sure, 'mommy' hits all the right places and that is the name you both agreed to when this all first started, but you saying her name was rare. and whenever you did, yujin feels warm inside. it was in your voice, the way you said it, how yujin knew that even something as simple as saying her name came directly from your heart.

as yujin looked up, head still in between your legs, she realized just how good it felt to be with you. besides the sex, you were good company and you knew yujin in a way some of her closest friends don’t.

ahn yujin has come to the conclusion that she was so sickeningly in love with you.

well, this realization gave yujin adrenaline somehow and she starts sucking on your clit, flicking the bud and moaning at the way you dug your nails on her nape.

“mommyy…! shit shitshitshit… i’m close, i’m coming…!”

you grabbed the edge of the desk with one hand as you fell apart on yujin's tongue. you’d think she’d be done. that’s how it usually was. come once and hard, and scene. but something was in the air today, apparently.

as you come undone, yujin finally lets go of your hand and uses both of hers to hold your hips down while she continues sucking on your sensitive clit. and holy fuck was she relentless. she dipped her tongue inside of your hole, making you writhe and scratch her back.

fuck, this felt good. even though it was more than you handle considering that you just came, you found yourself rolling your hips towards yujin’s face, wanting even more of what she wants to give you. she was completely entranced by your taste, blinded by pleasure and the only thing in her mind being you.

yujin presses her tongue flat against your clit before nibbling on it, sending you near the edge once again. she needed to make you come again. she has to have your juices completely cover her mouth and face again. that’s how thankful she was for your company and comfort.

she loves you, and this shows how much.

this time, you held onto her head when you came, gripping and tugging at her hair. your legs shook as yujin diligently lapped up your cum, feeling your ears burn at the sound of her savoring the taste. god, you were exhausted… although you wouldn’t mind if something takes over yujin and does it all over again, all day.

“mommy… thank you, thank you…” you managed to say.

yujin finished up her work and scoops you up in her arms, having you settle on her lap. your favorite place. “i should be thanking you, baby. you really did make my day better.” yujin said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

looking at her smiling softly at you, something pushes you to say a few words. “i love you.” …out loud, apparently. it was supposed to be a thought!

the complete surprise on yujin’s face scares you, but merely seconds later, she cradles you closer. giggling and… is she blushing? who knew the ahn yujin could be so… adorable?!

“i love you too,” yujin kisses your nose, and presses her forehead against yours. “a lot.”

who knew a few words could make you feel like flying?

for the next few minutes, the two of you stayed cuddled up in her chair. occasionally, sharing kisses and lingering touches in each other’s bodies. it wasn’t until yujin was kissing down your neck when you were reminded that you were still, in fact, clothed.

you sighed, “i should probably take this off before my friend berates me for ruining it…”

however, yujin shakes her head. “no, keep it on,” there was not a single sexual intent in her eyes, nor her words. she kisses you on the cheek, and stares at you in complete adoration and, now, love. “i love this dress on you.”

[darlingdekarios]

until the stars leave.

RATING: m for canon themes — LENGTH: 4,782 — Rolan x Tav [reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, set shortly after the final fight, fluff, somewhat unspoken admission of feelings, first kiss, cuddles because they both earned them, brief indecent thoughts

when the celebrations are through a harsh realization sets in - with your companions returning home or answering to their new purpose and the city in ruin, you are alone with no where to go. as you wander in the night, your mind recalls a certain sentiment that was extended.

Your heart had decided what it wanted before your mind had the chance to catch up, and your feet had carried you to the location you were drawn to - really, to the one place you felt was an option for you at the moment. At least, it was the safest and most comfortable option for you at a time like this, and the one you felt confident wouldn't turn you away.

Entering the main doors was hardly difficult - you'd picked up enough lock picking skills along the way to make quick work of the lock, slipping inside into the darkness around what walls and books remained and releasing a sigh of relief. The stairs you had to climb were familiar - a comfort in some way, at least.

What would happen when you stumbled through the portal? In all likelihood at this hour you'd enter the Tower to remain alone for several hours yet, until its new inhabitants woke for the new day. It didn't matter - you'd happily sleep amongst the books propped against the wall knowing you'd get through the night without any surprises.

But that wasn't quite fate's plan.

"Tav?"

Could his voice be considered a surprise when he was the Master of the Tower you'd snuck into? Could it be considering sneaking when you technically had an invitation - albeit not one specifically for tonight?

"Oh, hells," fell from your lips in surprise nonetheless, scrambling backward and into a stack of books until you fell flat on your ass. Your face burned as your mind wrapped itself around the situation, huffing out a deep breath as you fought your way on pained bones and muscles to your feet again.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, rising from where he sat atop a throne made of books to walk closer to you, meeting you where the ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the two of you. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's…fine," you breathed out again, reaching upward to remove your headwear and view him completely unobstructed. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him - the bruises from Lorroakan had faded more since you'd seen him in-person last, something that brought a light smile to your face. It was easier to focus on the freckles that decorated his skin when you weren't distracted by hatred for his former "teacher." “Cal said I had a room here…anytime. And well, I don't quite think he meant at this hour but…”

“Of course you do, there's no question about that in the slightest," his expression was still perplexed, eyebrows furrowed together with one slightly raised as he continued to await any answer you were willing to provide.

Not that you'd intended it, but his careful - and clearly caring - scrutiny made your eyes start to water, one of your shaking hands quickly lifting to wipe away a tear just as it fell. Your voice was meek but you tried to maintain the level of sass and confidence he was used to hearing from you - as you spoke, you were certain it was hardly a convincing performance.

"Only if you don't mind, Master of Ramazith Tower."

He tried to smile his signature grin but his mind focused too hard on you using such a title for him, his cheeks burning several shades of red darker. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze quickly to re-center himself, though it was probably a laughable effort.

"Are you alright?" his voice was just as gentle as you'd needed it to be, your appreciation growing with each word. "You don't even look like you've been healed an-"

“I am…alone. My family is scattered to return to their lives and I'm…"

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, this level of vulnerability and amount of sharing with the Wizard Tiefling entirely new - territory much better explored with a clearer mind and healthier body. Inwardly you worried even that was too much emotion between the two of you for the type of relationship - if you could even call it that - the two of you had maintained up to now.

Another surprise for the night - his eyes were only incredibly understanding as he shakes his head in your direction, dispelling your feelings in the politest way possible.

“You're not alone. Obviously."

There was that agitation in his voice you knew had nothing to do with you. Rolan, complicated man as he was and growing more so by the day it seemed, was not one to share his feelings, few exceptions being made throughout his hardened life. But the truth was undeniable in that single word - four syllables that told you everything you needed to feel more at peace tonight in knowing you were wrong.

You have me.

It was silent - it was all you needed.

Your lip began to quiver again as another tear fell, but this time it was his hand raising to catch it on your cheek, his hands soft and warm and delicate in all the ways you'd dreamed they would be…far more times you were willing to admit. He hadn't thought about the movement before it was carried out, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it, savoring the way your head seemed to lean toward his touch more.

When was the last time you'd been touched in comfort…in need? Had it been just as long as it had for him? He found it was hard to pull his hand away from the softness your cheek presented beneath his thumb.

“You’ve been through quite a lot recently,” he removed his hand as he spoke again and you immediately wished he'd return it, that you could continue to memorize the feeling. You focused your attention instead on his eyes, falling even harder as you gazed into his eyes. You found only honesty met you in those yellow flames. “You’ve always been here for us…for me. My home - and everything in it - is yours. For as long as you need it."

"I didn't help you to be owed a favor," you reminded, always the one to ensure everyone around you knew they owed you nothing. "Thank you."

"Only you could just save the world and feel you're not owed anything," there was a subtle laugh to his voice that you were happy to hear - that you were certain you'd never been gifted with before and eager to hear much more in the future. "When's the last time you ate?"

Just the word made your stomach growl - it'd been a while, that much was clear.

"We donated our leftover supplies," your answer was hardly a real answer and yet that told him exactly what he needed to know - whatever the truth was it was completely unsatisfactory. He sighed in response, shaking his head slightly as he reached upward to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly in frustration - it only meant he cared.

"Unsurprising," he breathed out, returning his gaze to yours again when he removed his hand from his face. His tone offered no chance of argument. "I'll show you to a bath, and I'll find something for you to eat and wear while you're in-"

His tone offered no chance of argument, yes - but that still wouldn't stop you from trying.

"I'd be okay not eating. You don't need to go out of your way."

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head again, though you could see the hints of amusement at your usual heroic antics flickering in his eyes. You'd starve if it meant you didn't inconvenience someone else. He was hardly going to let that happen, and he was more than willing to repeat himself to you after the interruption - but likely only just the once.

"I'll show you to a bath, and then I'll find something for you to wear and something for you to eat," his tone was more assertive now, dominant - you couldn't deny the way it made your mouth go slightly dry and your palms sweat. "Take your boots off at least, I can't have you tracking…whatever it is on them all over the Tower."

You nodded in agreement knowing he wouldn't agree to anything else now that his mind was made up, beginning to lower yourself down to the ground. Your weary bones were struggling from fatigue and you ended up falling into a heap on the floor instead. He was quick to follow you, dropping to his knees at a speed you knew would result in a bruise, one of his arms coming out to support you.

You thanked him by looking at him like he'd answered a prayer, an expression he'd refer back to frequently. For now, however, he was too focused on your condition to fully appreciate the sweet moment for as long as it deserved.

"Gods," he spat, clearly not in your direction whatsoever - as if he could ever truly feel that anger at you. "I suppose none of your friends could perform healing."

"It seemed selfish to ask at a time like-"

"Just…stop," he sighed out again, waving his free hand in the air to dismiss your piss poor explanation - unwilling to hear the excuse he knew was reasonable and yet didn't bring him comfort. "There is such a thing as being too heroic. I hope the next time you're faced with saving the world you remember that."

"I hope there isn't a next time."

The confession came fast and took him by surprise - he offered an understanding nod and the briefest rub to your lower back where he still held you. He began to remove your armor, gently pushing your hands away when you tried to help. Any amount of relaxation he could offer you now he would without being asked, if he knew it was acceptable.

"Why are you awake at this hour, anyway?"

Your voice was soft and much less upset as you just watched him care for you, trying to navigate the conversation away from yourself. His eyes flickered up into yours again as he worked the laces on your sides free, fingers brushing over the thin fabric covering your sides gently.

You were touch starved and it was hard to ignore - in the way that every cell in your brain was screaming with the desire to hold his hand. You were hopeful the conversation could distract you before you made your desires known.

"I have a lot on my mind," he confessed, placing what had covered your torso to the side. You could see the conflict in his eyes returning and growing, whatever his mind had trailed to as he came up with an answer disturbing the peace that had fallen over the two of you. "I'd like things to be normal for a long time, whatever normal looks like now, but…"

It was your turn to nod in understanding as he removed your gauntlets, fingers lightly brushing against your arm as the skin was exposed. Goosebumps raised where his fingers touched, a fact that he didn't miss. He wondered briefly if it was the reaction he'd get from any part of your body he touched.

"But? Something else worth sharing?"

He had to lie…

"I'm afraid not."

But unfortunately he wasn't very good at it.

"If it's from your mind, it's worth sharing."

Such a compliment took him off guard momentarily, his eyes widening with genuine surprise as he allowed them to soak in, hoping he'd remember how that sentence sounded from your lips forever. It was impossible to lie when faced with the weakness of his intellect being appreciated, especially when it was by you.

"I worried it would be a long time before I got to see you again."

With his confession of the truth both of your faces heated up - his face turning shades of red that only seemed to make him glow. It made both of you feel silly, this giddiness which neither of you were particularly good at hiding at the moment. He helped you to your feet again as you made a mental note of the subtle flick to the tip of his tail.

Being a little bashful wouldn't stop you from flirting with him altogether. It was far too tempting to tease him just a little more.

"So that's what keeps the Wizard of Ramazith's Tower awake at night," your tone was light and playful and he was thankful you were able to diffuse the tension with your personality. He wasn't certain if his efforts to flirt had ever been even remotely successful in the past with others, but he was becoming increasingly hopeful they might work with you.

"It's what was keeping me awake tonight. Who's to say what tomorrow will bring?"

Your eyes flashed with surprise that Rolan was capable of flirting in such a way and found you could only smile, his heart fluttering at the sight. Behind him his tail twitched again, and he quickly moved to ensure you weren't catching onto the quirk. An arm gently slipped around your waist as he began to lead you to the bathroom where the promise of a relaxing bath waited for you. On the way, you still wanted to fill the silence.

"Are you going to tell Cal and Lia?" you questioned, realizing quickly you needed to clarify. Forming a concise question proved to be difficult when you were becoming intoxicated by the smell of him that was flooding your senses at this proximity. "That I'm here."

"Of course I am, but in the morning. Tonight you need to rest."

You nodded in agreement and remained at his mercy as you made your way to the destination he'd chosen for you. The bathtub filled before your eyes with a simple wave of his hand, a smug expression forming on his face as you looked on in wonder despite all you had seen in the recent weeks. Reaching for a shelf he walked beside the tub to empty several vials of herbs, once again waving his hand so some of the candles decorating the room flickered to life.

When he turned to face you he realized all that was left was for you to remove the rest of your clothes…the thought alone returned the blush to his face. This time, however, it was joined by several beads of sweat breaking out across his brow, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck as he nervously cleared his throat.

"I'll find you some clothes," he announced, trying to maintain the composure in his voice. "And food."

And like that he was gone, disappearing in a flash to remove himself from any further opportunity of indecent thought.

The bath alone did you wonders in returning your body to a somewhat lucid state, though you still stumbled when you raised yourself from the relaxing waters. A simple robe in a shade of blue he so regularly wore awaited you on the vanity, which you dressed into slowly to ensure you didn't have any accidents.

It felt odd to dress for the day and not cover yourself in as much powerful armor as possible - even odder not to grab a weapon. You were thankful for the oddity.

An illusionary duplicate of himself waited outside the bathroom door to direct you to your next location - you weren't surprised at all to find Rolan hadn't bothered with giving it much of a script beyond what was necessary. Still, you found your mind focused on all the power he was displaying - Rolan became more impressive by the day, more powerful and capable of caring for himself and his family.

How very lucky Cal and Lia were to have someone in their lives like him.

You found him in the kitchen, amused at the flustered expression on his face as he plated whatever he'd whipped together - for the two of you it seemed, judging by the matching plates in front of him. With a pop his mirror image disappeared and Rolan's head lifted to meet your gaze, both of you smiling just at being reunited again, though it'd hardly been long since you separated.

(In fact, this would become a trend for the two of you very soon - minutes would feel like hours, hours like days, days like eternity until soon you'd find being apart at all was unbearable. When that day came for the both of you, you would hardly be far from his side again.)

He'd made a simple meal for you - something he somewhat bashfully admitted he used to make for Cal and Lia when the three of them were growing up. As you ate together in comfortable silence you decided it was the best meal you'd ever been made, and one you would ask for again whenever you needed an excuse to see Rolan.

Not that you truly needed an excuse.

Thankfully, it was still dark when it was time to retire to bed for the night, something you were already hoping you could manage despite everything that was still on your mind. As he escorted you to the room you'd sleep in he offered a quick explanation knowing there was an argument to be had when he'd finished.

"You'll sleep in my room tonight, and I'll take the spare bed in Cal's room," his words were coming quick in the hopes that your exhausted mind would have trouble keeping up with them, intentions pure as he hoped you would just allow him to extend this kindness. "Tomorrow we'll be sure one of the other rooms is furnished to your liking."

"You don't need to go to all of this trouble for me."

The genuine offense that passed his features at your phrase was chased quickly by annoyance, his eyes narrowing again as he imparted his next words onto you.

"You've gone through far more for me. Please."

He opened the door and motioned you inside fluidly, following after you to light the fireplace with the wave of his hand, providing more light to the dark room. Even in the dim environment you could see his bed looked oh-so-inviting…despite the books that littered the top of it. Realizing the mess he rushed forward to begin moving them, shooting you a grateful look when you joined. A gentle brush of your hands together as you both reached for the last book caught both of you off-guard, his movements entirely freezing at the feeling of your skin against his again.

In the privacy of his bedroom, there was something about the touch that just felt more meaningful than anything that had come before it.

"Sorry about the mess," he quickly filled the silence with an apology before he got too lost in your hopeful eyes, before he thought too long on how exhausted you must be after everything. "You should be plenty comfortable here for the night."

You nodded in agreement and climbed into the bed, quietly moving to the opposite side and finding comfort in the first position you found yourself in. Taking in a deep breath you continued to gaze up at him, mind running through a million options as to what to do now and hoping he could see your desire written in your eyes.

Instead, he took a step back as if to leave.

"I'll see you later this afternoon, I hope, after you've gotten plenty of rest," his voice was quieter as he was conscious of you entering a relaxed state, truly hopeful it wouldn't be long before you were asleep. "Goodnight."

But as sweet as it was, it wasn't what you wanted.

"Wait," you called, reaching out to grab at his arm before he was too far away. He turned to look over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his features bringing a small smile to your own. A smile - a genuine smile. How very good it felt to do so without guilt again. "Stay…please? It's just…quiet. So quiet in my mind since the parasite is gone. I don't like feeling so…alone."

Thankfully, he'd never make you beg. He simply nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, breathing out deeply as he mentally talked himself into remaining calm - sleeping in a bed together was hardly something to get all worked up over.

"I suppose I will sleep much better knowing you are."

For as nervous as he now felt, he was thankful he was still managing to form coherent and articulate sentences. He was still living through the embarrassment of tripping over his words in front of you the first time you'd met.

"Then please.""

Eager to ensure you didn't have to repeat the plea again he only gave in to your desire, climbing into the bed next to you and trying not to feel overwhelmed by your scent flooding his senses. He stayed on his back for a moment deciding it was for the best as he decided exactly what he wanted to do - what the best way to continue the night was.

What didn't take much thought was the feeling that crackled in the air around the two of you, an undeniable mutual want drawing the two of you nearer. And yet, neither of you knew how to seize the moment that was presented to you, new worries taking root in your minds.

He was so thankful when you were the one to break the eilsnce.

"You said you worried it would be a long time since you saw me again."

"Yes, I did."

"Why did that worry you?"

"I suppose…"

His response trailed off as he elected to consider his words carefully, taking a moment to form them in his brain to ensure they were exactly what he wanted. No words - even magical ones - would ever be enough, and even if they were he was hardly the type of man willing to express them.

But for you? He'd do whatever h could manage.

"I suppose I am quite fond of you," he breathed out, admitting to himself inwardly that it did feel good to finally admit it aloud. "Though I find your heroics insufferable and wish desperately that you could practice a little more selfishnesses quite a bit more often, I…enjoy your company. I did not want to go long without it."

He was certain he'd chosen the right words when his eyes found your face again, greeted with the sight of complete and utter adoration. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him this way - it was instantly a sight he wanted to see forever.

"I was selfish…after the battle," you explained, biting at your lip nervously - a habit he found quite cute, no matter how many times he'd reprimand you in the future for it. "Everyone offered me a place beside them. I could be helping in so many places - I had so many choices."

He waited for you to continue your story, understanding that something like this may take extra time. If there was anyone that deserves it, it was you.

"I chose to stay in Baldur's Gate."

He could feel that you were burning beside him - your temperature had easily spiked. Were you embarrassed at such a confession? He hardly thought admitting to stay in the city warranted such a fuss, though he also wasn't going to be one to shut you down.

"No doubt you'll be detrimental to the city's rebuilding efforts."

"I intend to be, but that's not why I chose to stay," you offered a light smile and released a shaky breath before you continued with your confession to him, glad you could get it out now and that the suit hadn't died alongside you. "I chose to stay…for you, Rolan. To be near you. I wasn't ready to…to move on."

The realization washed over his face like a wave and he was very aware that he was burning now, unable to stop the smile that spread across his features - or the fact that he'd been moving closer throughout the lunch.

"It seems my worries were matched by your own."

He was mocking you playfully, in a way that only he was truly capable of. You adored when he was in a mood like this. If he was in the mood to flirt, you were more than happy to oblige.

"I'd love to not worry myself over you someday, Rolan."

"And I you," he agreed with a nod, his handsome smile still covering his features. It was lighthearted and peaceful yet serious and intense - you'd happily go mad trying to understand all the different sides to him. "Do you think that day will come?"

"Perhaps if we watch one another," you offered, knowing you had no intent of removing yourself from his side anytime soon if no one forced it. "Every day, to be safe."

Slow movement caught your vision from the corner of your eye as one of his hands reached up to cup your face in one hand, cutting what the conversation could've blossomed into short. Your joking expression melted away into serenity once again masked with bashfulness. You were nervous at what his next move was - you bit at your bottom lip to prove it. He adored seeing you behave so…smitten?…for him and couldn't resist the opportunity for more.

"I am so glad you are here," he breathed out deeply, unwilling to mask his thoughts from you anymore, feeling already that he'd wasted enough time. "That you chose this. That your decisions lead you here, to me. I wouldn't trade this moment for anything."

Your own hand joined his, laying atop his as your eyes fluttered shut. You held his hand against your face as you moved closer, propping yourself up on one elbow. When you were certain you'd be greeted with the exact sight you wanted you opened your eyes, taking in the sight of him gazing up at you patiently, waiting for whatever word you'd offer him next.

"You're quite a prize for saving the world.""

"And I haven't even thanked you properly," his thumb brushed across your bottom lip slowly, his hand then slipping to the back of your head to pull you downward, closer to him. Your faces were mere inches apart, the anticipation of a kiss waiting to be claimed growing by the second. "May I?"

It was a quick nod you offered that was barely finished before he was claiming your lips in his own. It was the sweetest, most delicate and heartfelt kiss you'd been given in your life thus far, all-consuming and addicting immediately. You pressed closer to him as you lost yourself in the kiss, singularly focused on how perfectly his lips moved with yours to the point his tail winding around one of your legs went fairly unnoticed.

The two of you only pulled away from air, both of you immediately breaking into a small fit of giggles, nuzzling your noses together in pure joy. As you laid your heads back down on the edges of your pillows so you could remain close you gazed upon one another with an adoration that could go unspoken for now - your shared devotion was perfectly clear. Your hands found each other between your bodies and he placed his atop yours in silence, enjoying the first true peaceful moment in so long for a moment, reminding himself it wasn't selfish to stop and appreciate you - particularly at this hour.

His tail released your leg to drape over your waist instead, pushing you closer to his form until you were burying your face in his neck. The warmth and his scent combined with how one of his arms also wrapped around you gently was lulling you to sleep before you'd even found the perfect position. Though really, any position with Rolan would be perfect in your mind.

"Goodnight, sweet hero."

You were already asleep, his hopeful sentence gone unheard by yours ears as the exhaustion finally overtook you and you succumbed to the comfort of resting beside him. Waving an arcane lock toward the door to ensure the two of you would go uninterrupted for as long as he could keep you in the bed.

The world and all its troubles could be forgotten awhile while the two of you found tranquility in your shared solitude - and neither of you would have it any other way.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[genderkoolaid]

The transandrophobia brainrot has hit tiktok hard. There's a sound going around right now that uses the T slur in a reclamatory way, but whenever a transmasc person uses the sound people lose their minds saying it's transmisogynistic for them to use that word. But when cis male drag queens use the audio it's a slay.

My answer to those people is Get Kate Bornstein'd:

Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.

^ From this interview

Four weeks ago, Bear posted a call for submissions on his blog. In the interests of keeping the call as open as possible, we agreed to include as many trans-identities as we knew, so we used the word "tranny." And that's where the activist shit hit the postmodern fan base. People have been pissed. Here's their argument: FTMs are co-opting a word that belongs to MTFs. The word "tranny" belongs to MTFs, reason those who were hurt by our use of the word, because it was a denigrating term reclaimed by MTFs—ergo, only MTFs could be known as trannies. I spoke with Bear, and we agree that’s wrong on several counts:

Tranny began as a uniting term amongst ourselves. Of course it’s going to be picked up and used as a denigrating term by mean people in the world. But even if we manage to get them to stop saying tranny like a thrown rock, mean people will come up with another word to wound us with. So, let’s get back to using tranny as a uniting term amongst ourselves. That would make Doris Fish very happy.

It's our first own language word for ourselves that has no medical-legacy. 

Even if (like gay) hate-filled people try to make tranny into a bad word, our most positive response is to own the word (a word invented by the queerest of the queer of their day). We have the opportunity to re-create tranny as a positive in the world.

Saying that FTMs can’t call themselves trannies eerily echoes the 1980s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word woman to identify myself, and the 1990s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word dyke. 

At one phase in the evolution of transpeople-as-tribe, it was the male-to-females who were visible and representative of trans to the rest of the world. They were the trannies. Today? Ironically true to the binary we’re in the process of shattering, the pendulum has swung so that it's now female-to-males who are the archetypal trannies of the day. The generation coming up beyond the next generation, i.e. my tribal grandchildren are the young boys who transition to young girls at the age of five or six. They’re the next trannies. None of us can own the word. We can only be grateful that our tribe is so much larger than we had thought it would be. How to come together—now that’s the job of the next generation of gender outlaws.

^ From Who You Calling A Tranny?

We've been having this debate forever and its been stupid forever.

And its an increasingly outdated debate. More people know about trans men&mascs than ever and there are plenty of TM&Ms who have been called tranny by transphobes who don't give a shit about this distinction. And not just people who have been mistaken for transfems, either, but men like Andrew Jonathan Blake-Newton and Saye Skye who were attacked by people who knew them. Do they have more or less of a right to say tranny than a trans girl whose never been called it by a transphobe? (Neither. Because no one owns this word.)

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 9

Here it is part 9!

Takes a peek at my writing doc. Yep uh, plot is beginning.

Also I've done the most recent Archon quest and uh, Wow.

I uh, didn't expect to cry that hard.

But very glad that my fic is still technically canon compliant. Literally counting down the versions till a lore drop breaks what I have built.

Warning for Spoilers up to Genshin Impact 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

Silver clouds float around lazily on a beautiful sparkling blue sky. 

From beyond the billow of misted water, a spark shines.

It glows brighter.

And faster.

It shoots down towards the sky, breaking the sea of clouds, leaving a gaping hole from where it burst through.

The spark becomes a star, flickering from blue to a brilliant gold, leaving trails of light as it descends towards Teyvat.

As it approaches, it shrinks, becoming smaller, but no less powerful.

A targeted stream of light, of energy.

It approaches a city, a harbor. 

You can feel the energy in the air, the hustle and bustle as humans galavant and frolic.

The sounds and smell of a festival, filled with raucous cheers and lively conversation.

The light ignores it all, heading straight towards a solitary figure.

A figure cloaked in brown and gold, strolling along the roads of this place.

A non human hiding in their midst.

They’re concealing their presence, but the light knows better. 

It can feel their raw power and strength.

This is the one they were looking for. 

It heads straight towards it, hitting their body with force, causing them to stumble in their tracks.

The light, no. The blessing burrows it’s way into this figure.

Mine

It purrs, settling inside their body, warming him from the inside, filling their body with power and energy. 

All Mine

~~~

Your eyes snap open as you jerk out of your trance.

Morax was still sitting there, quietly.

Observing you with those eyes.

Those calm arrogant eyes.

You hate them, you hate them so much.

“Do you remember now,” he asks.

You clench your fist, fingernails digging into your skin. 

You don’t want to believe him. On some level you still don’t.

However, you can’t deny that he has your power. 

That he was gifted with your power.

Blessed

But you don’t know why.

The unfortunate truth, something that Morax no doubt knows, is that you don’t have all your memories.

Azhdaha’s sacrifice gave you some of your powers back, but it’s far from what you used to have.

You remember a time when you were powerful.

When you created mountains and oceans.

When you could create living beings with a single touch.

Well, not a single touch, but you could still do it.

You remember an era of peace, of dragons.

But it’s all gone.

Destroyed.

All because of them.

But you don’t know how.

You don’t know why.

The anger and grief wells up in your chest. 

Your power responds accordingly, strumming under your skin, begging to be set free.

No,

You can’t.

Not now,

Not yet.

Later, you promise yourself.

Later, you will find out the truth and get your revenge.

~~~

“To the tales of the lyre, to the sweet dream of tonight!” A sweet melodious voice sang to the cheerful applause of the Angel’s Share patrons.

The teal figure bowed jauntily, waving his hat with a flourish.

Another successful night completed! 

The bard in question skipped over to the bar, offering its red headed owner his most charming smile. 

Alas his efforts were in vain as the Pyro wielder barely offered him a glance before going back to polishing glasses.

“Oh come on Master Diluc,” he weedled, offering his best puppy eyes. “Did my music not please your patrons ears, surely that deserves some complimentary beers”

“That’s exactly why I’m deducting some drinks from your tab,” He grumbled, “your unpaid tab, might I add.”

“In Angel’s Share I spend my time, in hopes of getting some dandelion wine,” he strummed, “Of varied notes, I sing so high, yet my sweet drink you so deny.”

“Let the bard drink,” Quinn cheered drunkenly, as did the rest of the tavern to Diluc’s chagrin.

The man tried to explain, only for the cheers and chants of the tavern to rise in volume, drowning his voice out. 

Mondstatians and their alcohol.

The tavern owner turned around with the most unimpressed face known to mankind.

Venit would be intimidated, but unfortunately for Diluc, he is not a man and has seen much much more unimpressed faces over the years.

The two stared each other down, one smug and the other exasperated, all the while the tavern’s chanting rose.

With a defeated sigh, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt pours the bard a glass of dandelion wine. 

The bard in question whoops in triumph. As does the rest of Angel’s Share as they celebrate his “Victory” with more drunken cheers and songs.

He knew the tavern owner wasn’t truly angry, exasperated and annoyed perhaps, but the man could never muster any real anger towards Venti.

A small bonus from him revealing his true identity of the Anemo Archon to him. 

For all his tough words against the Knights of Favonious, he was still a Mondstatder through and through. 

Whilst he did not have nearly as much presence in Mondstadt as the other nations did, and was proudly the weakest of them. The people of Mondstadt did not forget what he’s done for them and still recognize and worship him accordingly.

The wind spirit kicked his legs back and forth and he watched the redhead over the lip of his glass.

In terms of personality he really is nothing like his ancestor. Which makes sense of course, it’d be foolish to expect them to end up the same even though they have the same bloodline.

If anyone in Mondstadt were to have that title it would be the Acting Grandmaster.

Guiltily, he is glad that they differ.

To humans, gaining a vision is a great honor. Proof that their worth has been acknowledged by the gods.

He’s happy for them as well, whenever a Mondstater gains a vision.

But he won’t deny the seed of anxiety that sprouts in his heart as well.

Visions can make humans, gods among men.

But the world is made of more than just men. 

Humans may be many but are comparatively weak in the grand scheme of things.

Although, having numbers is its own form of strength.

Perhaps he isn’t giving humans enough credit. 

A lone human is weak, but a group of humans have a level of strength and fortitude that amazes even the gods.

He supposes that must be why the heavens protect them so.

Well, protect is a strong word.

They will do whatever it takes to ensure the continuation of humanity.

But they really won’t waste their time on individual humans.

Unless,

Well,

Visions are gifts for a reason.

Allogenes are rare, and are appropriately rewarded.

Not that visions are not a great boon.

He’s single handedly watched how visions save and change the lives of their wielders.

It’s simply what can come after.

It is extremely rare for an allogene to ascend to Celestia. That position is only reserved for the strongest of wills in all the lands.

Vanessa was one such will.

He knew it the moment he laid eyes on her. 

Her burning passion and desire to protect her people.

How could she not gain a vision, how could she not ascend.

It was why he stuck around, stayed by her side. 

Partially to ensure the safety of Mondstadt. 

Partially to see if there’s anything he could do to save her.

Not that there’s anything he could do, or dare do.

Her will was extraordinary during her life.

It's just beyonf that, that is the issue.

The gaze of Celestia is particularly strict when it comes to cases such as these. Any attempts to defy destiny will be met with swift retribution.

Celestia does love its retribution.

Any hint of disloyalty, or protest will be swiftly squashed.

There was always a bitter irony in his position as Archon.

He was strong enough to protect his people from gods and monsters and other humans.

But not Celestia.

Not one was strong enough to fight against Celestia, even the creator of this land fell to their lies and trickery.

He has no idea what the Tsaritsa could possibly be planning to think they stand a chance.

Perhaps that’s why she’s moving so quickly.

In hopes of finishing her plans before the Heavenly Principles awaken.

He wished her luck on that front.

Even though he may not have the courage to do the same.

He just wished she was less aggressive about it.

Honestly, she didn’t even bother asking him before sending Rosalyn to attack him.

In front of his own church no less.

Honestly the audacity

Although, to be fair, without that audacity she probably wouldn’t have dared to try going against Celesta. 

Her lack of contact with Celestia may have also played a role.

She is not a part of the original Seven after all.

Both he and Morax had visited Celestia firsthand upon their ascension to Archonhood.

It’s where they received their gnosis, their Archon robes and well.  

Where they’ve seen the true capabilities of Celestia.

Witnessed the lengths they’re willing to go to to squash any resistance.

On that front he understood Baal’s reasoning behind the Vision Hunt Decree.

While she may not have gone to Celestia herself and witnessed what the original seven did. He had no doubt that her sister passed on some warning to her before her death. 

It was smart.

If not ultimately misguided.

Sacrificing the few for the sake of the many.

Stifling a couple vision holders in exchange for the safety of her nation.

He understood the urge.

Disagreed with it, but understood it all the same.

The role of allogenes is essential to the survival of Teyvat.

Like it or not.

Without them, Teyvat would collapse.

Sacrificing the few for the many.

He despises it.

What Teyvat is built upon.

What it requires to function as it does now.

But he’s not strong enough to change any of it.

All he can do is wallow in the knowledge that Teyvat is-

The bard shakes his head vigorously to get rid of the path his thoughts are heading towards.

No,

Bad thoughts,

Not tonight,

Tonight is for fun.

Not, 

Well.

Anyways, he’s getting maudlin, that’s no good for such a festive night. 

He tips his glass back, emptying it of its contents.

The Dawn’s Winery quality is unparalleled.

As usual of course.

One of his pettier achievements to say the least.

When Morax announced his desire for Liyue to become the trading hub of Teyvat, and one of the most prosperous nations. Going on to monologue about how he will pave the way for business and prosperity using his contracts and all that blah blah blah.

Well, he couldn’t help but make fun of him about that, now could he.

Leading to Rex Lapis snapping back about how he can’t contribute anything to his nation beyond drunken songs.

Well jokes on him.

Mondstadt is now the nation of drunken songs. 

The best in fact.

Sure it could be considered a waste of time to change the water in Mondstadt specifically so that it would be the best for wine brewing.

But the wine industry is now one of Mondstadt's main sources of revenue.

It was a calculated business decision and completely not related to the grumbling of some winemakers about having to purify the water multiple times to get a good yield.

A familiar presence approaches, the wind whispers.

Venti perks up as he hears a familiar set of footsteps approach.

“Tone deaf Bard,” an excitable voice exclaimed. “I knew he’d be here.”

The bard in question swiveled around in his seat to face the Traveler and Paimon, pasting a cheerful smile on his face.

“Traveler, we meet again, why don’t you sit down, we can share a drink or ten.”

The golden haired teen rolled their eyes at his, admittedly cheesy rhyme.

“I need your help with something,”

Their voice is serious.

In all honesty he hasn’t seen them this serious since what happened with Dvalin.

Venti took a quick peek over at Master Diluc, still serving other customers, great!.

He quickly slipped out of his seat and followed the Traveler out of the Angel’s Share.

Once they’ve reached an appropriately secluded spot, they turned to him.

Paimon and the Traveler exchange glances.

This must be pretty serious for even Paimon to sober up like that.

“Venti,” they ask, “We need to ask you and Dvalin a favor.”

Me, and Dvalin?

What could-

“The creator of Teyvat is back.”

~~~

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I was thinking of doing something special for part 10, haven't really decided but I'll keep you guys posted.

Thanks so much for your kind words of encouragement.

You guys are the only reason I've gotten this far in the story so far.

As always my askbox is open, for any questions, theories, etc etc

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