#i took an edible and im doing amazing

[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

The internet: Mixing alcohol with your meds will increase dizziness, drowsiness, confusion, and difficulty concentrating

The internet: Mixing weed with your meds will increase dizziness, drowsiness, confusion, and difficulty concentrating

The internet: Mixing alcohol and weed together will increase dizziness, drowsiness, confusion, and difficulty concentrating

Me: I'm sure this will be fine

[turnaboutwright]

finally had a day off after 6 days of work in a row and tbh all i slept so so good last night and all this morning then took and hour long shower and ate and my body just feels like jelly and im more relaxed than i’ve been in a long time might even fall asleep again

[writebackatya]

ITS ME IM FIRST are there any moments from your writing inspired by something that happened to you personally??

This is why you're one of the best people in the fandom, thanks!

And yeah, there are some actually

Let's start with Indi-Quack!

So in Under the Influence of Gandra Dee!, Fenton has to sober up for his m'ma after unknowingly vaping a bunch of weed. Something similar happened to me. No, I did not need get high on accident but I did have to sober up fast one time for a parent that was coming home

It was back when I still lived at my dad's house, I had just gotten out of a long day of working retail pharmacy and supposedly had the house for the evening. So yeah I wanted to get high that night. After getting out of work I went out and bought some stuffed nachos for my dinner/high snack and then went back home to get high. In the process of doing so, I get a warning text from my brother who was letting me know that he and dad were coming home. I wouldn't say I was super high, but it was enough to be a concerned and the worry just increased so I was pretty high. Quickly googled different ways to sober up from a high as I Febreezed the room and went with a cold shower. I think it somewhat did the trick, I felt more alert but also pretty awful but that's because I'm not one who takes cold showers that often

I basically felt the way I wrote how Fenton felt after he took that cold shower to sober up, less high than before but in-between this state of high and sober, not fun. Luckily my dad was none the wiser, but my stuffed nachos got cold. :(

I think I did write in the notes of Stuck in the Middle with DEW! about an experience I had with an edible, might as well give out so more deets on that. So that someone I mentioned, was actually a sibling of mine; it was back in college when we were all home for the holidays (ha-ha) she was staying the week with her husband (great guy btw) and yeah they're both stoners too. Anyway, a surprise Christmas present from her was a weed brownie. And it was good, like no joke, my siblings are amazing chefs. But she told me not to eat the whole thing in one go because she put a lot in there. So I ate half of it. Big mistake

Okay. So my bedroom was basically in the basement floor and usally the area I got high in back then, and I kid you not that one moment I was in my bedroom on my bed and the next I was in the living room (which was one floor up) lying on the floor in the middle of a conversation with that sibling who was checking up on me. That was a great high, I'm pretty sure I saw every title card for every Arthur episode I've ever watched in my mind that night

Last Indi-Quack! related one comes from What'd I Miss?!, after I wrote the scene where Gandra tells Della about one time she was high at F.O.W.L. and she could not for the life of her understand what Bradford was saying to her and winged her response and got away it was similar to two other experiences I had

So during the summertime me and another sibling thought we'd have the house for the afternoon to ourselves and you will not believe what happens next. We got high and were going to go chill in the pool. Well we got high in the kitchen and then we heard something that sounded like a car door being opened, I investigate, I see that my dad, step-mom, and half-sister arrive home, I tell my sibling, they don't believe me because this would totally be something I would lie about to just fuck with them, i assure them that it is not and quickly start spraying the room and opening all the windows, they put away the bong, we retreat to the backyard, and just wait

So long story short, they came to the backyard and talked to us and we kept a straight face. But at one point my step-mom goes to something in the backyard and asks me a question about it that I still don't know was. And after having her repeat the question twice I just responded with "Yeah, it seems to be working fine" and got away with it

And while no, I did not get high at work but one year when I was working 2nd shift on Christmas I did smoke like hours before I had to go into work, just a little, honestly just a bowl. And by the time it was for me to go to work, I honestly felt fine. It wasn't till I got to my job and started working that I was giggling, so I was teensy bit high, but I am GREAT at my job so I just played some jazzy Christmas tunes and went to work. Luckily I was by myself for those first few hours of work tho

Now let's talk about stuff more wholesome, two of the Home for the Holidays! stories hit close to home for me, When Siblings Reunite! and It's All Downhill from Here!

The former is basically how it feels to be reunited with my siblings over the holidays but with the Ducks so it's way more cooler and the sledding one is based on sledding with my cousins on Christmas which is literally my favorite thing to do with them when we did do it

The last one I'll share comes from Let's All Go to the Movies! where Dewey is bothering Gandra at the Fight Fighters cabinet (you're welcome, Gravity Falls fans!)

Now look, Dewey is my favorite triplet because I was 100% most like him when I was that age but waaaaaaaaayyy less cool. And looking back now, I probably annoyed waaaaay more people than I thought I did when ever I wouldn't stop bothering people because I was interested in them or just wanted to talk to them about whatever was going through my mind at the time. And yeah, sometimes those people would snap. Not totally lose their cool, but just snap at me in a way made the message clear to me that I was being a nuisance to them at the moment

And look, nowadays I can be quite the snarky person when I'm in a bad mood so I also relate to Gandra here. Just being somewhere you don't really want to be, being with someone who is at a social level where you're not at now while prying into your personal life that you don't really wanna discuss right now.

But here on tumblr with mutuals, never an issue

[trashiewrites]

All the HCs I’ve done but ALEJANDRO EDITION!!

All the head cannons ive done but our favorite Mexican man. Cause TBH who doesn’t love his goofy ass.

ALSO YES I AM ALIVE!! I have a lot of request and work has been killing me lately! So if you have a request you sent im still doing them i swear! Enjoy!!

Relationship:

+CAN AND WILL SERENADE YOUUU

+won your heart with his guitar. That is just the truth. You try to lie and say something more romantic.

+He gets offended that you think it wasn't romantic.

+Honestly, he's when he isn't working, HES A PUPPY! He's so happy to be around you and wants to get up and do things with you.

+It is not uncommon to see you two roaming the streets of Las Almas till dusk because he honestly wants to.

+HE MAKES THE BEST FOOD HAND DOWN!! IF YOU WANNA DATE A MAN FOR HIS COOKING YOU CAN NOT AND I REPEAT C A N N O T BEAT ALEJANDRO

+If you aren't a fan of Mexican food, he's okay with it. He would usually make you a separate meal cause you aren't stopping him from his Carnita Enchiladas.

+His family (if he does have any) Is very kind to you! If you don't speak Spanish, they try their best to speak English and you try to talk as much as Alejandro teaches you.

+Going through your daily chores doing Spanish lessons with him

+ Legit, your number one fan! in everything, no matter what. 

Sick

:+You wanna know the best thing about Mexican/ Hispanic foods? THERE IS A LOT OF SOUP!!!

+SOUP IS NEVER JUST BORING CHICKEN NOODLES! THIS MAN MAKES IT ALL; FIDEO, MENUDO, CALDO DE QUESO! AKA surprise soup every day.

+ Takes over all the chores in the house. All of them

+ *INSERT DEAFENING VOLUME SPANISH MUSIC* You already know he's doing more dancing than actually cleaning.

+ Vix... If you know, you know...

+He's not entirely against medicine, but let's say he's wary about it... Won't stop you from doing it tho. It's more of a personal thing. 

+ About him getting sick, "Si no te estás muriendo, estás bien." If you aren't dying, you're fine.

+You often argue with him over this mentality because he gets really bad sometimes. I mean he needs to go to the hospital before because of it

.+AKA Good luck trying to keep this puto in place. That will be the biggest challenge

. Christmas:

+1st day of November, He gives no fucks.

+Prob took out the tree the day after Halloween.

+you get new ornaments every single year, this year you found one from a series you like. Mister over here got a T-Rex with some skis.

+ He's not particularly too religious but he does have religious-based decorations. You know the usual, baby Jesus and the three wise men. You may have given some new decorations to the Virgin Mary you may not have.

 +He does go to church Christmas morning with his family. He always asks you if you want to come and if you don't that's okay with him.

 +There's a cookout at his family's place that lasts a bit, nothing too crazy! Lots of dancing, live music and of course, great food.

+THE REAL KICKER IS THE PARTY ALEJANDRO TAKES YOU TO WITH HIS SQUAD. Ooooh, THAT PLACE IS LIVELY!

+yall both drank so much you blacked out. Luckily you didn't drive home that night. Rudy did, but you wouldn't know that till later.

Wedding:

+The wedding was in Las Almas, no doubt. At least it would be tough to convince him for it to be anywhere else.

+if you had to pick anywhere if you didn't want a church wedding, then it would be in the woods nearby. Nice and scenic!

+He spent whatever to have it look the way you wanted. Any expense as long as he deemed it reasonable.

+The ceremony itself was amazing! Mystical and beautiful, felt as if you were in your little fairy tale.  AND TO BE MARRIED TO ALEJANDRO! oh, honey, you were in tears.

+Yall already know who his best man is. 100% Rudy, and if they could make it, Soup and Ghost.

+ The reception after was WILD! Not perfect though. 

+paid for a custom cake and umm... it arrived... a little lopsided but that's okay! A little melted too but it's okay, still edible!

+He slammed your face into your slice of cake. Soon after met with the same fate. Cake faced, he acted shocked and offended.

+didn't get absolutely shitfaced at your own wedding surprisingly. Everyone who was a guest, except the designated driver, got hammered. 

+overall 9.5/10 would marry again.

[psychedelicmadness666]

My favorite drugs

1. LSD

2. Ketamine

3. Marijuana

4. Xanax

5. DXM

LSD have done 6 times and it was fucking awesome and scary because it enhanced my schizophrenia but fuck me was it fun. Listening to the Beatles (Sgt. Peppers), Pink Floyd (Piper at the Gates of Dawn and entirety of the Dark Side of the Moon)Daft Punk's Discovery, the Bomberman Hero OST, Fatboy Slim's You've Come a Long Way, Baby on loop for 3 hours while cleaning my car watching the mountains melt and make weird shapes, some songs of Outkast, and Tyler, the Creator after coming down off the acid. I even drove to Salt Lake City while high on acid at 1 in the morning while coming down on acid. Don't do this. it's cool but stupidly dangerous. I'm a fucking retard for it. I LOVE LISTENING TO Santana's Black Magic Woman and their live performance of Woodstock just so I can feel Carlos Santana's wackiness on the guitar while coming up on the acid. I'll miss my psychedelic experiences :(

2. Ketamine is FUCKING crazy. It feels like you are in an alien spaceship while being disintegrated into small atoms. 90 mg of IM ketamine was INTENSE and made me flip balls. Listening to music is just a weird sound. Everything sounds robotic and slow. Listen to Around the World by Daft Punk and it doesn't sound the same while on ketamine. I don't even recall how much times I tried ketamine. A therapist recommended me it and I did the ketamine therapy. They give you a pair of headphones and a room to chillax in there. I didn't even have a therapist being there. Just me, myself and I. Amazing but then I started hearing voices after when it wore off. I started hallucinating screaming of a woman being kidnapped by Ted Bundy. I had to stop taking it afterwards. So, long fucking story short I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder.

3. Marijuana. Ah, the sweet mary jane. I am a huge fucking pothead. I love it but hate it at the same time. I waste money on it but I love feeling alright until the high waves of paranoia and delusions come by. I heard the screaming again and the same delusion of someone being in trouble. This time I thought someone was getting raped because I heard "PLEASE STOP" and crying. It was crazy. The edibles fucked me over. I took like 50 mg of edible gummies and then constant hits of the dab cart. I had delusions about the Chinese government trying to invade my data and communicated with me through a microchip installed. Also, I would get extreme anxiety. But for some reason I would smoke a shit ton because my art would look cool on it. Also, food on it. Amazing. I could eat a pizza.

4. Xanax. Kills the anxiety. I'm a nervous person. I feel sober, NOT. I hate that feeling, only to want more. Munching like mf like mj. I guess that's about it.

5. DXM. I hate this shit but I have tried other drugs like Adderall, Vicodin, Kloponin, Alcohol, Nicotine, Codeine, and LSA. I hate them all. The most being Adderall. Nothing but anxiety, restlessness, and loss of appetite. DXM was somewhat fun. I tried it twice. Everything just feels so fucking weird and fast. I felt like a robot. My body was leaving its soul. 5/10.

Don't do drugs. If you do, do MaryJane and LSD. Make sure not to have the schizo or bipolar.

[hopelessromanticstrawberry]

obscure memories

when we watched scarface together, u me and ur friend, it was like a cocaine game. every time this or that snort a line. then it became a competition bc coke was ur drug of choice, and i wasn’t even paying attention just lost in the sauce bc we had so much blow it didn’t matter. then my palms started sweating like crazy, i was shaking, i felt my breathing switch to manual and my heart palpitated so loudly it echoed against my skull. i tapped out first and sat trying to focus on the movie while quietly wondering if i was about to overdose, id just gone line after line after line without stopping to let it hit. it was terrifying and exhilarating. I thought after about people who get addicted to the feeling of almost dying.

triple pressed 6mg xanax. your roommate gave it to me as a way of asking if it was cool to take u to the casino 2 hours away. I was supposed to be sober-ish, xans weren’t really allowed atm bc I had almost OD’d at a party and took like 8 when no one was watching me. I got so excited, tried to play it cool, but he knew I was feening. You looked pissed off but tucked me in and put on Blue Planet as I started to get high. Drifting off was so peaceful and blissful. I woke up hours later when you got home, I was still high and when you crawled into bed it was so warm and felt so safe. I smiled like an idiot and passed out again.

The first time I tried cocaine I was 19. The plug came over, it was super lowkey and felt like I was intruding but he was really gentle spirited despite how scary he looked. You let me snort coke right from the brick, it was to date the purest blow I’ve ever had and nothing will ever compare to it. I was instantly euphoric and horny to the point I could’ve had a girls gone wild moment I didn’t even care. You had a rule to not fuck on drugs so we didn’t but I wanted to so badly I could barely act normal, it was almost embarrassing. I was numb for hours, tingly and happy… like a straight shot of serotonin right to the brain. Funny how in less than a month we were doing blow again to go grocery shopping

The first time I smoked weed I was between 2 of my guy friends smoking me up for the first time, ironically both of them were trying to court me. I was supposed to go to the other guys house but something came up and I was bitching about wanting to smoke to the other one, he says fuck it come over right now and we can smoke. I remember hitting the bowl and it was instantly like the rising feeling of being at the top of a roller coaster. I was immediately giggling about everything. We sorta hangout and I can’t stand to look at him because he’s honestly scaring me while I’m high, but everything else is amazing. He had these bricks at the front door and I dumped out a cup of water on it “as a joke”, honestly he got pissed and it was really confusing for me when I was stoned. I went home with bloodshot eyes late late at night, avoided my parents and went upstairs put my headphones on went to sleep. It was a school night but I didn’t come home till late most nights anyways. We started smoking every day after school and I’d smoke with my neighbor otw to school. Another friend brought edibles in and shared them with the lunch table. It was unfortunate because if I hadn’t gone and smoked at that guys house I wouldn’t have been r*ped by him later on, I wouldn’t have been his girlfriend. I made the wrong choice smoking with him so often and letting him learn how to manipulate me. The second I gave in I lost all my power. Could have avoided so much mental illness if I’d never moved in with him.

Painkillers… so weirdly the first times I got high on pain pills I was only 12 or 13, I was still at the age where I played sims on the family computer for hours… I was on my period and it was so severe (and they are so severe) my dad gave me Tramadol, im allergic to all nsaids except Tylenol so he really did me a solid there. I didn’t really react in any type of weird way but zoned into the games happy and chillin, my period cramps came back 35 minutes later but I was still a little litty. I ended up taking a nap on the guest bed with my cat. Later I’d do them a few more times but as an adult, my dad was addicted so it was a mental block where I was actually nervous to take them as an adult. I remember taking Vicodin and Percocet in the summer at your friends house, I always wanted to get more after and you always told me no. I don’t have strong recollections of what happened when I was high maybe I nodded, but I liked the euphoria I felt so at ease and like I understood the world. I felt childlike wonder again. We watched all 3 Austin Powers movies smoking blunts to the face high as fuck, I was so giggly and happy and felt so good. I literally at one point thought “ I get it dad this shits awesome “ I looked at u guys and loved u guys, felt like u were the best friends I’d ever have in that moment. Everything was fuzzy and bright, colors were so vivid, I felt fuzzy n warm inside … I loved it sm

[asclepias0819]

do i kin post or do i not bother my lovely cool mutuals O_o

[scolpimpisdiary]

Bucci Gang Cooking HeadCannons!!

Bruno Bucciarati🤐

I can definitely imagine him being able to prepare a lot of traditional Italian dishes. Bruno may be busy but he’s a detail oriented man, and you could see it in the way he prepares his food

Like I mean, VERY well made

I can literally imagine his Italian ancestors guiding him while he’s cooking

(William Zeppeli? Jkjk)

*snaps fingers*“Hey Baby! You forgot to add the salt”

OKAY IM DONE

If he’s close enough to Y/N he’d probably make their favorite dishes and bring it to them whenever they’re down. I don’t see him bragging about his cooking tho or bringing it up often

plus I feel like he’d be better at making savory foods rather then sweets for some reason idk

“I know I can be a bit busy, but I hope you enjoy this, Y/N. I made it just for you”

Guido Mista💥

Let’s be honest this man has probably never touched a cooking pan in his life

I think Mista would probably try to avoid anything involving making food, he feels like its time consuming and probably either orders takeout or just eats at the Bucci gang restaurant

(I forgot the name of the restaurant bye)

I could see Mista only ever cooking if he has a crush on Y/N and wants to help them cook in order to get closer to them

(He’d probably mess up halfway though)

“Mista, the cake recipe called for four eggs!”

“Four is bad luck, don’t you know that Y/N? That’s why I only put two!”

Leone Abbacchio 🫖

Strangely enough I feel like he’d be really good at making desserts

Like REALLY good

I could imagine him with a cute lil skull apron on making different types of cakes and sweets in his spare time, macarons, cookies, pies, cupcakes etc

He’d probably be too shy to actually share this with anyone tho, unless Y/N basically begs or forces him to do it

I also don’t see him making a lot of fried food idk 😭

“But you cook so good!! Can you please help me make *insert favorite dessert item here*? It’s my favorite!”

“Alright fine Y/N, but you owe me one..”

“I can’t believe I got dragged into this shit..”

Narancia Ghirga🎶

Most likely sees cooking as a way to experiment and have fun rather than actually sustain himself.

Prefers to make his own “recipes” but also enjoys following different ones

One of the first volunteers to help Y/N with a recipe, not only because he likes them but also because he genuinely enjoys the process of it

Minus the dishes, which would unfortunately be left up to Y/N to clean

He probably makes a lot of weird food combinations as well

I could imagine him proudly showing off his bizarre recipes to Y/N

Maybe even making them try it? Idk

“C’mon Y/N! It took me ages to come up with this, doesn’t it look yummy?”

“Uh..yes, it does! Just let me..uh..go to the bathroom..real quick”

Pannacotta Fugo😡

Oh Fugo..

Poor lil Fugo..

He’d probably have the hardest time making recipes. I could see him ragequitting giving up in the middle of a recipe and just scraping it

He would follow the recipe halfway but

I feel like he’d overanalyze everything, which makes him fail

“Oh, the recipe says to add only 1 tsp of baking powder, but what happens if I just..”

Either that or he’ll get frustrated which causes him to mess up even more

It’d probably take a lot of convincing from Y/N to have him help them with a recipe

Otherwise Fugo would try to avoid bringing up cooking at all costs

“Fine, I’ll help! But don’t come crying when it tastes like shit!”

Giorno Giovanna🐞

My favorite Jojo ngl

I feel like GioGio would be able to cook, but not that well

Like, I could imagine him being able to scrap things together or make edible meals, but I don’t see him being an amazing cook

He’s similar to Mista in the fact that he probably feels that it’s a waste of time at first, but as he got more experienced he started enjoying it more

Before becoming a Don, he’d either do the former or just eat out at a restaurant

After becoming a Don, Giorno probably has people make food for him tbh

GioGio would still be open to helping Y/N with meals though, mainly if they were S/Os

I could also see Don/older Giorno at least trying to learn how to be a better cook if he had the time

“Tesora/Tesoro, am I doing it right? I tried following the steps like you did, but it still looks quite strange”

“It’s okay! It looks fine so far, just keep whisking”

“You know, I’m actually starting to enjoy this.. I never thought I would before. We need to do this more often”

“Really?”

“Of course, mi amore”

[1kook]

EXPLORER

jjk x female reader

FOR GCN’S ❝ 23 | JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY PROJECT ❞ ! Alien AU | “I want to have your last name!” | “I like when you do that, it makes me crazy.”

summary; Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.  warnings; smut in the forms of cunnilingus, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, anal, tit play, and all that jazz bc surprise its tentacle porn rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous; FLUFF, strangers to friends to lovers, curious alien kook, there’s a saber tooth tiger mention, virginity is a social construct, they both have skewed perceptions of sex and love, and idk what else word count; 17.8k

notes; someone said once “all u ever do is write college aus 😃” and i was like lol true but i was also a virgo and was like “i’ll prove u wrong” and next thing i knew i was writing a 17k alien au clap for me lads

special thanks to; my savior and editor rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who very politely tells me when im making up words n also when shit doesn't make sense but lets me make stupid final decisions that will come back to bite me in the ass<3 and also my gf yeji @suqakoo​ who watched me crash and burn about ten times while writing this monstrosity of  fic and just laughed her support amazes me<3

BEFORE READING SEE HERE; body marks, under eye marks, sixam that i stole from the sims 4 

He comes with the sole purpose of populating this uncharted territory with his seed. 

Jungkook has been on many missions abroad. He’s visited about every planet in Sector 76 before this, the largest collection of neighboring galaxies known to exist. And because of that, he likes to think he’s well educated in extraterrestrial affairs, quite knowledgeable in the barbaric ways of the foreigners. They see, they mate. Pretty simple. 

For the past couple years, as leading field researcher of Sixam, Jungkook has been exclusively studying every creature he comes across. He enjoys cataloging their habits, their mating cycles, and the unique culture they develop, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not. 

Granted, he’s never been on a mission like this. 

This type of mission has never been his. 

When the great planet of Sixam wishes to settle colonies of new species— Sixamian bred with whatever other species that have deemed suitable —they usually task people like Namjoon or Seokjin, both high ranking generals of the Sixamian Intergalactic Corp. with a near immaculate genetic makeup. Their genotypes carry strong traits, and are oftentimes most reflected in their phenotypes as well. Beings like Namjoon or Jin are the epitome of what it means to be Sixamian, which is why Jungkook is surprised when they ask him to place his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7 of the Via Láctea solar system, otherwise known as ‘Earth.’

It wasn’t that Jungkook had major self image issues, nor did he think he was particularly bad to look at. In fact, Jungkook thinks he’s pretty amazing. Of course he doesn’t compare to Namjoon or Jin, but quite frankly, the comparison is skewed by the fact he works in a different field than them. You cannot compare black holes to asteroid belts; in a similar fashion, you cannot compare military generals to scientific researchers. 

Anyway, Jungkook has never been to Planet 43 Z-7, but some of his coworkers have. They all claim it is a beautiful place, filled to the brim with life and culture never before seen. 

Frankly, Jungkook doesn’t believe it. 

He’s seen hundreds of planets, thousands of species, so he hardly feels amazed anymore. There is nothing enjoyable about other planets when he comes from Sixam, quite possibly the most intellectually advanced one in the universe. And he says this having met Yoongi of Planet 732 T-1, another being near immaculate in terms of cognitive abilities.

But not as perfect as Sixamians. 

Hoseok says Planet 43 Z-7 has all sorts of unique artifacts, like these edible arrangements called ‘hot dogs’ you eat between two pieces of raised yeast. Planet 43 Z-7 has been unmarked for eons now, but is a popular hideout for rebelling Sixamians during their early years. Jungkook was never one of those types, but he has a handful of friends who were. 

Needless to say, Jungkook isn’t looking forward to his mission. He asks Namjoon and Jin for tips on how to approach the reproductive members in the species, if there’s any protocol he needs to follow, but they simply laugh it off. They’ve both had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring some of the most beautiful creatures in the universe, so Jungkook’s incompetence must be a sight to see. 

Airship handler Jimin is the last face he sees on Sixam. He’s as relaxed as ever, strapping Jungkook into his travel pod like this is just another one of his research trips and not his first ever population operation. He pats his shoulder once, tells him to bring him back something called a ‘Nintendo DS’ that his partner Taehyung has been begging for since the last time they went to Planet 43 Z-7, but Jungkook has no idea what that is. 

And then he’s off. 

Jungkook has long since grown comfortable with the emptiness of space, a desolate feeling that oddly made him feel at home. But, as he hurtles towards his destination, there’s a newfound sense of anxiety that consumes him at the thought of this unknown planet— this ‘Earth’ that his fellow Sixamian friends speak so highly about. 

He lands in a field. Well, ‘lands’ is a bit of a stretch; his pod comes to a stop a few feet above Planet 43 Z-7’s surface, hovering over the natural flora that seems to grow in abundance in this part of the planet. It’s… dirty, compared to the sleek skyscrapers and glowing structures of Sixam. 

He steps out tentatively, the vegetation crunching beneath the boots of his skintight spacesuit. The folks back at Sixam had told him that whatever the residents of this planet breathed in was compatible with Sixamians, but he still hesitates to click off his helmet. 

The planet is quiet, save for the quiet chirping of some creature underground. The AI on his helmet pulls up the information before his very eyes, the advanced technology quickly tapping into wherever it was these beings stored their information. A mole cricket, he reads, first documented by a researcher about two hundred human years back. Very annoying. 

His pod seals itself shut again, presumably heading back into orbit until Jungkook calls for it again. With it gone, he’s faced with the vast nothingness of Planet 43 Z-7, just grass and trees with very few things in between. He’s beginning to suspect Jimin might have sent him to the wrong coordinates, a void space on the planet with nothing but vegetation for miles. 

Part of him is frustrated, beyond annoyed that he cannot even complete the one thing he came to do if there is no being in sight. But another part, the part of him that had been nervous to even accept this mission, feels grateful. Well, there was no use complaining about it now, he thinks. He pulls up his virtual journal, ready to catalogue every bit of vegetation he can set his eyes on. 

After a while, his helmet becomes stuffy, the digital screen that plays over the glass piece fogging up with his breath. So Jungkook takes his chances and clicks it off, the sudden wash of oxygen filling his lungs quickly. It’s fresh and moist? It smells like his laboratories back on Sixam, the ones that took years of countless trips around the universe and meticulous gardening to cultivate. Yet here on Planet 43 Z-7, this type of phenomenon is common, and apparently, ignored by its residents. 

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure, he supposes. 

He’s scanning a peculiar organism, reddish and dome-shaped, when he hears the first crack of a twig. Immediately, his defenses rise. Jungkook was by no means a skilled warrior, but most Sixamians fared better than other creatures in the universe. Save for the few barbarian, primitive species they’ve encountered, 9/10 times any wild encounter was in their favor. 

His eyes scan over the perimeter of the field, scanning, scanning, scanning— until he spots two, huge, glowing yellow eyes from distance. His eyes widen, flicking on the retractable blaster from his wrist and pointing it at the creature. 

It’s bigger than him, with eyes that look over only a short distance before gradually dying down. He wonders if that’s the scope of its field of vision, crouching down along the vegetation. He creeps closer, rounds the bright beams until he can see the creature’s side, an oddly shaped thing, almost like a shell. It has wheels, he realizes, mentally jotting down the fact this species is advanced enough to develop such technology on their own. 

Right as he’s beginning to lower his wrist, deciding this metal creature posed no threat from its lack of movement, something smaller moves around it, carrying a compact version of those glowing eyes. 

Jungkook panics, wildly clicking through the modes on his wrists. He jumps from his blaster to the thermal detector, and the smaller creature that moves around the metal beast has a heat signature he’s never seen before, warmth that begins at its core but doesn’t drop drastically as it fans out. And then he’s switching to his electroscope and is startled to see that the smaller creature even carries an electric charge beneath its outer membrane. 

This is terrifying, he thinks to himself, wondering why his friends back home had decided to trick him into believing Planet 43 Z-7 was remotely safe. 

Before Jungkook can act rashly and accidentally kill that terrifying creature, he’s blindly stepping into a hole in the ground, a dip in the field. An uncontrollable yelp tears itself from his throat at the roll of his ankle. 

Immediately, the yellow eye is upon him, flickering over his kneeling form in the vegetation. Jungkook freezes, caught in the all-seeing rays of the yellow eye. He wonders if this is the end, the end of an undoubtedly legendary run, as the creature slowly approaches. 

Its figure is shrouded, the blinding eye turning them into just a silhouette that closes in on Jungkook fairly quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he never stepped out of his pod, when the beam flickers off. 

“Hello?” a hesitant voice calls out, and then he’s met with you. 

You had always believed holding out until marriage would come as an advantage. You played it safe your entire life, always did what you were told. You had grown up in a relatively traditional household, always following the rules like a good kid. Your parents said no dating until seventeen? You waited until seventeen. Your health classes in school said practice abstinence? You practiced abstinence. 

Following the rules was what got you into a prestigious university. Following the rules is what got you your first, quite admirable, job. Following the rules is what had gotten you into your first serious relationship with your boyfriend, who became your fiancé, who would become the man to cheat on you three nights before your wedding. 

Being a virgin— that symbol of purity —was supposed to make you desirable to men, you thought. It was supposed to protect you from bad experiences, keep you perfectly polished until the time came. You had many a friend who had engaged in sex at a young age, experienced mind blowing sex that would never be topped, even by their own future husbands. You had saved yourself from disappointment by saving yourself in general. 

Except that concept, that meticulously followed tradition, was what ultimately drove your fiancé away.

Three days. 

Three days before you would marry and lose that treasured thing you had been carrying around for the past twenty-five years, flushed clean down the drain all because he couldn’t wait any longer. He had managed four years with you, four memorable years where he had religiously told you he loved you every chance he got, regardless of your lack of sex life. Just to blow it for some barely legal chick at a bar. 

Needless to say, you were done. Absolutely finished with him and your friends who claimed they “weren’t surprised” only after the fact, or your parents who had urged you to try again. You were done with this saving and waiting all for a man who ultimately did you dirty. You needed to get away from it all, and the only way to do that was to leave the city all together. 

Your parents were uncomfortable with the idea. They said it was too brash a decision to give up after one try. But your whole future had been riding on this one try, and to have it completely ripped away from you crushed not only your hope but your pride. 

On the other hand, your grandmother and her lifelong experiences with men understood you just perfectly. She was old, living in a retirement home near your parents’ home in one of your city’s many suburbs. There was a house out in the countryside, about a two-hour drive from the city. She had grown up there, and even though she hadn’t lived there in years, she simply couldn’t bring herself to sell it off. So she gave it to you. 

It was a cute little thing, a stereotypical farmhouse surrounded by miles and miles of nothingness. Well, your neighbors were about half a mile off on either side, but who was walking half a mile for a cup of sugar? No one. 

You loved it. 

It was peace and quiet, long days of focusing on yourself and your tiny garden outback. There was no societal pressure to act right, or forced ideologies to make yourself the ‘perfect woman.’ It was just you and a stray cat that visited now and then, spending day after day reading and writing, working from home. 

The trips into the city were far and few between. There was a general store close to your house, nestled into a quaint little town you visited every so often. And the mailmen still had to make their stops through here, so everything was practically at your fingertips. The only thing you had to do in the city was drop by the main branch office of your job. Your work had mostly been over a computer before, so moving to work at home was rather easy. However, there was still the occasional board meeting to sit through. 

So here you were, three months into your new living situation and on your way back home from the city. The evening sun is beating down hot on your yellow Beetle. You were in desperate need for a check up, but you kept pushing it off and telling yourself tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It seems tomorrow should have been today, because by the time the sun is setting, home is still another thirty minutes away and the temperature gauge is climbing to unhealthy levels. 

The Beetle pushes for another two minutes before wheezing to a stop in the middle of nowhere, your angry slaps against the dashboard doing nothing to revive it. With a muttered curse, you switch the car off. The front lights remain on even as you round the dead car, angrily kicking the tire with your heel. It doesn’t budge. 

You sigh, sinking down to your knees beside the opened door you came out of. The nearest mechanic was still a forty minutes’ drive from here, and you doubt anyone is still open. The con of small towns is that most of the businesses close after sunset. One glance at your phone lets you know it’s way too late to call anyone for help. You contemplate just walking to your house, but it’s dark and far, and your heels were only meant to be worn for an hour or two during your meeting. Not for an entire transcontinental trek back home. 

Sighing, you decide your best bet is tinkering around yourself. You weren’t a total idiot, so you hope whatever is wrong with your car is something you can fix on your own. You shoot back up to your feet, patting the blood back into your face as you round the car. 

There’s nothing but you and the Beetle for miles on end— or so you think. 

Just as you flicker your flashlight over the expanse of grass, there’s a startled shout that scares the living daylights out of you, flashlight fumbling in your hand in your haste to see what it was. 

Great, so not only were you stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your heels to carry you to safety, but now there was also a man out there, hiding in the tall grass like a voyeur. 

It’s a terrible idea, but you approach him anyway. There’s a huddled figure, a gleam of a bizarre outfit that has you shaking in your heels as you step closer to the edge of the road. And when you finally get close enough, the light shining over their figure, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at. 

“Hello?” you call out, and are met with the most violet eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

Jungkook thinks you are an odd creature. 

To begin with, you carry an electrical charge at your fingertips but are unable to revive your rickety metal ride with said touch. It is undoubtedly a trait he does not remember cataloguing in any other species before yours; it might rival the Sixamians’ aura sensing abilities, the little triangular markings beneath their eyes that allowed them to alter another’s emotions. Electricity beneath surface, he mentally notes for the nth time that night. 

The inside of your vehicle is disgustingly mediocre, a mixture of old clogs and pipes he’s only seen in ancient Sixamian textbooks. Still, they’re devastatingly easy to figure out. One simple twist of a lid later and your car is revving back to life. You squeal and clap, clacking around on the frankly terrifying footwear you call heels that are practically knives as stilts. 

Amazing, you cry, moving like a mini tornado around him. You don’t seem the least bit phased by his appearance, despite the initial shock you’d gotten when you first made eye contact. Actually, Jungkook thinks you might be the quickest extraterrestrial being to accept his existence as fact. He has to wonder what exactly goes on here that has these Humans, as Jimin has called them, so desensitized to the appearance of otherworldly figures such as himself. 

You invite him into your moving death trap, not the least bit concerned with the chest piece of armor he removes and tosses into the seats behind him. Jungkook has been in a lot of near death situations, and somehow your manner of driving this metal box marks high on the list. 

“My home,” you tell him when you finally pull up to a tiny shack of a house. It’s about the same size as his personal lab back on Sixam, so he wonders just which one of you is being deluded by the size. The car engine shuts off with a practiced flick of your wrist, and then you’re making your way up the front steps without sparing him a glance. 

“Lovely,” he says at the entrance. He moves to travel deeper inside, but you warn him to remove his shoes. He does, hesitantly, bare feet padding along the wooden floors behind you. “Forgive me,” he apologizes, watching you bumble around a small space with a standing cooler and heat box. “I haven’t asked your name.”

You hum, tugging out two cups from a hanging cabinet. You fill them with a white substance, followed by a light brown powder that almost makes you sneeze, before shoving them into the heat box that begins suspiciously counting down. “__ ___,” you offer. 

Jungkook frowns. “You have two names?” he asks skeptically. In Sixam, rarely anyone had two names. “Are you a government official?” 

You laugh. “No, but I do work for an office. I have one name, and then my last name,” you explain. 

This only perplexes him more. “A last name?” he repeats. “What is the purpose of this last name?” 

You shrug, and the heat box beeps loudly. Jungkook twitches, ready to aim his blaster once more but you calm the beeping box with a gentle click that has the front opening, the most heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. Oh Jungkook definitely needed to take that back. Much to his surprise, you hand him one of the handled cups, the sweet smell making his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Well,” you say, seemingly unaware of the way you just changed Jungkook’s entire life. “I have my name, and then I have my family’s name. Like, to show we’re in the same group, kinda,” you explain. “And it also helps sort of differentiate you from other people with the same first name.” You settle down on a seat in front of the counter, carefully blowing across the liquid contents of the mug. Jungkook doesn’t get why until he tries to take a sip and the liquid scalds his tongue. You laugh. “Gotta cool it down, silly.” 

He feels silly. In fact, he feels beyond embarrassed that someone who is not a Sixamian is looking at him with the same eyes you look at an infant with. He has a strong need to reinforce his superiority over you. 

“Well I am Jungkook,” he announces proudly. “Jungkook of Sixam. The only Jungkook of Sixam, because we do not believe in sharing something as intimate as our names with another,” he huffs. You scoff, a genuine look of amusement crossing your features that Jungkook simply does not understand. 

It’s with a practiced grace that you set your cup down on the counter, face coming to a rest in in the palm of your hand as you watch him talk over himself about the intricacies of Sixamian names, and how each one is carefully selected at one’s first celebration to honor the first long year of life they overcame. That look on your face, that disgustingly entertained expression does not melt away, even when Jungkook hastily calls your people imbeciles to your face. 

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, staring deep into the contents of your hot cocoa, as you had called it when offering him a second cup, as if you don’t seem to disagree in the slightest. “Humans are like that. 

There’s a quality to your voice, a rather melancholy tone that curls around your words that stops Jungkook’s tirade against your race for a moment. There’s a look in your eyes, hollow and alone, that he cannot place. He wonders if it’s from past experiences or from a shared Human trauma. Either way, he does not understand. 

It’s with a shake of your head that you look up at him again, sweet smile back on your features. “Humans are selfish creatures, Jungkook,” you say. 

He is not sure if he believes you. 

Jungkook has traveled to many parts of the universe, has visited places your tiny Human brain may never comprehend. Yet he has not always received this treatment. There have been missions where he has been picked on and abused for his curiosity, rudely ejected back into the vast emptiness of space just because he wanted to know more, learn more. Not every planet welcomes him with a soft smile and a warm place to stay. 

Despite the initial unimpressed confusion he felt upon entering Planet 43 Z-7, there is something about the quirk of your lips and gentle tapping of your fingers that intrigues him. 

Huh, he thinks, subconsciously cataloguing your mannerisms in his head. He will write about this later. 

You let Jungkook sleep in your quarters, a small area with a mattress that he sinks into with delight. There’s a change of clothing you set out on the edge of the bed, a rather shabby set that matches yours. He is reluctant to peel away his bodysuit, even more so when he realizes he is standing naked on a foreign planet with a very strange creature clattering around downstairs. He hurries into the clothes. 

You peek your head into the room later on, carefully flicking off the lights as he settles onto the mattress. Jungkook is beyond tired, body fatigued from hurtling thousands of light years through space in such a short amount of time. The abundance of breathable oxygen is still something his body has to grow accustomed to. Your voice is soft as you whisper out a goodnight farewell that he can only sleepily mumble back. 

Jungkook is quite literally the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. Well, person is a stretch considering you’re not entirely sure what he is, or where he’s from. When you found him, sadly crouched in the middle of nowhere, you wanted to convince yourself he was some random college boy lost on his way to a costume convention. But he’s not. His big purple irises are oddly bright, practically luminescent, and that’s definitely not something one could achieve through stage makeup. And he’s not a college student either, despite how youthful he looks, but a foreign being at least three times your age. 

Or so he says. 

Honestly, you’re torn between wanting to write him off a nutjob or believing he is this highly intelligent extraterrestrial being. In the case he is the latter, you find it odd that of all the planets in your solar system— a whopping eight, maybe nine —he chose crappy old Earth to visit. 

Jungkook moves like a fine tuned instrument, graceful limbs wandering around your home and backyard the next morning. His little head piece, a unique accessory that wraps around the base of his skull like a microphone headset or something, seems to keep him in constant communication with his fellow brethren so long as he wears it. So he wears it all the time. 

Still, you’re able to differentiate between his messages back home and his mindless mumbles. Those usually happen more often than not, soft muttering as he inspects your garden, vivid descriptions of the plainest things like an onion. 

“Lemonade’s ready,” you call, stepping into your backyard. Jungkook peers over your rosemaries like a bunny, wide eyes scanning the pitcher you set out on your back porch’s table. Carefully, he steps around your meticulous rows of vegetables. He’s wearing the clothes you lent him last night, a pair of shorts and a shirt your brother had left when he visited a few weeks ago. They fit him nicely, shorts just shy of his knees. 

“This is lemond-aid?” he asks quizzically, tentative hands reaching for the quickly perspiring glass. He has unique markings that begin at his hands, twisting and curling carefully around his arms. They’re gold in the sunlight, contrasting softly against his relatively peachy skin. There’s a matching set on his knees that wrap over and around his thighs, beneath his shorts. He looks every bit the celestial being, yet here he is marveling over the lemon slice balanced on the rim of his glass. 

“Lemonade,” you correct, sitting down on your rocking chair. Your floppy sun hat protects you from the brutal rays of the sun, practically scorching in this summer heat. It reminds you of the honeymoon you were supposed to take a few months back. You stomp out the memory. 

Jungkook takes tentative sips, stopping every few seconds to smack his lips at the taste. Then, suddenly, he’s plopping down on the wooden planks of your porch criss-cross applesauce. The bracelet-like contraption he had removed from his suit is sitting on his wrist by itself, with Jungkook rapidly tapping some unseeable button on it until a blue hologram appears between the two of you. 

“Woah,” you gasp, the projection flawless and stable. Jungkook gets to work tapping at it, unrecognizable symbols appearing on the screen. His glass of lemonade is by his knee, ice tinkling inside. 

“Lemond-aide,” he repeats, mouth moving awkwardly around the world. He glances at you for confirmation. You shake your head. Frustrated, he scoots up beside you, pressed against your leg like a puppy. “Say it,” he commands, tapping at his screen once. 

You clear your throat. “Uh, lemonade?” you offer. Jungkook nods, clicks something else, and then your voice is repeating itself back to the two of you. He looks for your approval once more. “Perfect,” you nod, slightly bashful to hear your own voice played back like that. 

Content with your approval, he gets back to work, clicking and typing wildly at the screen until it’s filled to the brim with those strange symbols. When he’s done, he says his name and date into the same recording device and shuts off his hologram. “It is an interesting thing,” he says quietly, bare feet swinging over the edge of the porch. “A sweet drink procured from a tangy fruit.” 

You nod, can’t stop the smile that consumes your features at his childlike wonder. You know it’s not his fault that such simple things astound him, but there’s something about Jungkook’s genuine curiosity and snarky tongue that make you feel young again. Like a teenager in her prime, sitting with a silly high school boy. Not a woman sitting on the cusp of thirty, alone and untrusting of the world. 

“What are hot dogs?” Jungkook cuts in abruptly, turning to face you with those purple eyes of his. You can’t help it; you laugh. 

“I have some in the fridge,” you answer, leaving your rocking chair and him on the porch. Jungkook doesn’t sit still for long, quietly trailing behind you inside the house. The stray cat is here today, slinking around your ankles as you scour the fridge for the hot dogs. It’s a perfect day for a barbecue, you think, with hot dogs and lemonade. 

The cat wanders over towards Jungkook, sniffing at his ankles before nuzzling against him too. “You also have smilodon on your planet,” he comments. “You are comfortable with such murderous beasts in your home?”

You furrow your brows. “It’s just a cat,” you shrug, leaning down to pick up the furry baby. He purrs against your chest while Jungkook glares at it. 

“Have you taken its teeth for your own?” he asks. 

“What?” you laugh. “He has all his teeth.” 

Jungkook frowns. “No, his unusually large canines,” he explains, mimics two giant fangs with his fingers. “Is this a kitten of a smilodon?” You have no idea what he’s saying at this point, rubbing the cat’s back gently as Jungkook talks over himself. He does that a lot, you realize, ramble about facts you would otherwise see as of little importance. 

The afternoon is spent grilling hot dogs, Jungkook carefully trailing the cat he has taken to calling Smilodon. You watch from the grill as he follows the cat around the garden, gently shooing it off when it gets too close to your broccoli plants. He’s cute, you think, watching him maneuver around your plants with the grace of a trained dancer. 

He absolutely adores the hot dogs, spending another twenty minutes typing out one of those funky journal entries into the computer in his wristband. He asks about the Nintendo DS, something that makes you laugh boisterously at the absurdity of the question. 

When it gets dark outside, he stands in one place and stares up at the sky, rendered motionless at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, but he loves hot cocoa. He settles in to watch the nightly news with you, every five minutes filled with an abundance of questions about your planet— which he refers to by a unique set of numbers and letters you’ve never heard before —and what you like to do. Every tidbit of information is documented in his wristband. 

He sleeps on the couch this time, feeling shameful to have pulled you away from such an amazing mattress. He says goodnight shyly from the bottom of the stairs, followed by a tentative wave he saw you give the mailman that morning. You say it back and fall asleep, the alien in your living room not making a peep. 

Thus a whole week passes with Jungkook of Sixam.

On the seventh day of his stay, Jungkook is woken up by the quiet beeping of his headpiece. It’s Chief Kim Namjoon, calling to ask how his population operation of Planet 43 Z-7 is going. Jungkook stills, the quiet chirping of the birds outside your window filling in the space. The water is running somewhere inside your house, signaling your conscious state. 

His answers are quick and sharp, nervous laughter falling from his lips as he rushes to end the call with Namjoon. He manages to do so just as you appear in the living room, skin nice and dewy from your morning shower, eyes still showing signs of your peaceful slumber. 

“Good morning,” you rasp quietly, a soft ruffle of his hair as you pass by Jungkook on your way to the kitchen. His face feels warm, under eye markings surely glowing a vivid red at the gesture you have gradually ingrained into him, one that makes his heart rev up like an engine preparing to shoot off millions of light years into the distance. 

Jungkook enters the kitchen behind you, your pet smilodon greeting the two of you with a gentle head butt against his ankles that is unlike any other smilodon he has encountered before. He sits at the counter as you work on breakfast, the faint scent of your cucumber body scrub wafting by with every turn you make in the small kitchen. 

And then he’s thinking. 

There are a few crucial bits of information that Jungkook has come to realize over the past week, some of which he hears directly from you, others he picks up from watching your ancient projection in the living room. 

One: of the variety of human genders that exist on Earth, you are one that seems to carry the specific set of bodily structures necessary for reproduction. He’s inspected you carefully the last few days, watching the way you move and carry yourself, just to ensure such is true. By finding you right away, Jungkook was halfway to his goal of settling his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7. 

Two: unlike most humans of Planet 43 Z-7, your body seems oddly… preserved, to say the least. He knows you are familiar with their reproductive rituals as he’s watched a few of said rituals on the projection box in your living room with you. They were very normalized among your people, with almost every broadcast including at least one mention of them every day. Despite that, your body shows no significant reaction to the scenes, and one sneaky scan of your vitals shows Jungkook that you have yet to participate in this ritual yourself. 

Lastly, Jungkook has come to the terrible, godawful conclusion that he does not wish to rope you into breeding with him for the sake of Sixam’s colonialist ways. There’s something about you and your people that does not deserve to be seized by Jungkook and his people. A sort of untouched quality of the progression of your species.

As the oldest and most advanced planet in quite possibly the entire universe, Sixam holds significant power over everyone else. Their higher order brains have helped many a planet follow the right path in attaining the same level of perfection. They were saviors of some sort, touching every planet they visited with the finger of a god. While there were certainly some Sixamians who did not believe in this way of life, of stretching their hold across entire galaxies, others did. 

Jungkook had always fallen in the middle. He had no particular desire to reign over the planets he visited, because his interests had always laid with the existence of the individuals on said planets. He was a researcher, not a military official like Namjoon or Jin. But he has to admit that time and again his research has procured the same results; while there were certainly other planets where the beings were more beautiful or the landscape more stunning than that of Sixam, there was not a single planet that matched their advanced mental capabilities. 

Until now. 

Your civilization moved in a rather fluid way, always changing and never settling. There were eras he learned about on TV, revolutions where one invention rose to prominence, where one sub-race rose to power. Even now, a simple scan through your news broadcasts leaves Jungkook curious. For the first time in a long time, his countless journal entries of information do not lead him to a plausible conclusion. Would you make it right and settle your disputes? Or would this endless fighting, sometimes carried out passively and through words, other times with the use of advanced weaponry, continue until the end of time? Jungkook didn’t know. 

And it was wrong of him to ask you to carry the burden of introducing an entirely new species— a Human and Sixamian at once —for the sole belief that it would somehow “fix” your planet. For the sake of your people, it was best if Jungkook just bugged off. 

And yet, the soft scent of your body lotion, the gentle brush of your hands against his scalp, the delicate way his name rolls off your lips like you’re tasting it for the first time, they all make his heart beat unnaturally fast beneath his skin. They make him yearn for a feeling, an emotion, he cannot quite describe. 

He was in trouble. 

Ovulation creeps up on you early into the next week. 

You hadn’t been too focused on it this time around, mostly just worried about your period and how awkward it would feel around Jungkook of Sixam. Preoccupied with stockpiling pads and finding your heat pad, you forget about the few days before the period. The time where your libido rages like an animal that has been poked at one too many times. 

The realization dawns on you slowly. Jungkook is sitting on the couch, avidly watching a documentary on ancient civilizations. He’s got one hand in a bowl of popcorn you set out for him, another mindlessly toying with a stray thread on a throw pillow. It’s when he looks at you with those big purple eyes, lips pouty and pink, that something distinctly carnal flickers on inside of you. 

You ignore it. You wrap those feelings in a box and shove it deep into the recesses of your mind. 

But Jungkook was devastatingly handsome, that much you’d known from the moment you saw him. When he’s not in the sun, those Sixamian markings wrap around his body in charcoal streaks, peeking out from the hem of whatever clothes you find for him everyday. For the most part, he’s been running through the pack of plain shirts you picked up from the general store, and the same two pairs of shorts on rotation. His body is artfully toned, thighs big and bulging, but waist small and tapered. His lower lip is the juiciest pink color you’ve ever seen, plush and soft, framing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair is jet black, part favoring one side more than the other. 

His hands are firm on the rare occasion he touches you; on your hips when you stumble around the kitchen, on your shoulder when he’s pointing out a particular constellation to you. Jungkook’s presence slowly begins driving you to insanity. 

The worst thing is, you cannot tell if his curiosity comes from your status as a potential partner or his overall interests in your species. You want to convince yourself that he is just as interested in your body as an individual as you are his, but those hopes are dashed with every question he asks. Where does the sink drain? Where does the chocolate powder come from? How far is the nearest government official? 

So you calm your thoughts, push them away with the same practiced ease you’ve mastered from a young age. Your purity remains untainted by others, only teased in the shower when Jungkook is wandering around outside. Then and only then do you offer yourself a reprieve, press your fingers down between your thighs and wonder what it is like to have someone else there. 

You picture two purple eyes peering up at you from below, a pink tongue carefully licking against your puffy folds until you’re shaking. How well endowed was a Sixamian? You didn’t know, but you imagine them to be quite big if the subtle shifts you catch of Jungkook every now and then are any sign. 

One finger wiggles past the tight ring of muscle surrounding your hole, the intrusion makes your knees buck. You sink along the shower wall, huffing and puffing as your fingers dance along your swollen clit, thumb swirling hurried circles around the bud until you’re cumming, body spasming from the force.

The water rains down on you, washes your shameful acts down the drain. Vaguely, you wonder if Jungkook is still outside or if the heat drove him into your air conditioned home. Did he hear you? For all his curiosity, you’re certain there are some aspects of the human experience that Jungkook did not want to see. His roommate/caretaker/only-human-friend masturbating was probably one of them.  

It has been years since your fantasies included any other man, faithfully revolving around your ex-fiancé until the very end. It is scary how quickly the mere idea of Jungkook riles you up, how that violet gaze is enough to tear you apart. 

When you resurface in the living room, the house is still. The only sounds are that of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the occasional creaking of the pipes. Jungkook is still outside, you sigh in relief, catching his fluffy head of hair bounding across the front yard with Smilodon on his heels. When he turns, you catch his eyes and he pauses. He offers you that same cute wave he learned last week, gentle smile gracing his features. 

It’s the soft curve of his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners, that make the rapid thumping in your chest settle. You raise your hand, waving back through the window. All was well. 

For now. 

The next morning brings with it an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Namjoon calls him again in the morning, and this time Jungkook cannot skirt around the truth. He hurriedly tells his friend of his findings, of the beautiful society that flourishes on Planet 43 Z-7, and the never-ending personalities he has the chance of encountering. There is an author fansign, you told him, of a book he thoroughly enjoyed taking place next week. There is a woman in town who can fix any technology sent her way. There is a group of children who pass by and sell you food, these flattened things called Girls Cout Cook Ease. There is so much to see and so much to learn that it has Jungkook unconsciously projecting his excitement via his under eye markings. 

You come downstairs mid-call, smiley and ditzy. You were normally a bubbly person, but this much excitement can’t possibly be yours. It’s the sign Jungkook needs to settle down, but Namjoon offers him one too. 

Much to his chagrin, he warns Jungkook against getting too comfortable, tells him to finish his operation and scram as quickly as possible. The Higher Sixamian Court does not take kindly to Sixamians becoming enamored with other planets, especially if they are as advanced as Jungkook claims them to be. He’s rushing out information, begging Jungkook to finish or abandon his mission, anything but stay too long, and before Jungkook can respond, their comms are abruptly shut off. 

He’s left blankly staring at your coffee table, Namjoon’s caution ringing loudly in his ears. 

After the effects of his accidental influence wear off on you, you shake yourself awake, confusedly glancing around the place before shrugging it off. “Morning,” you say, the same as ever, patting his head softly. Jungkook watches you begin your daily routine, the kettle running on the stove as you get to work preparing his hot cocoa. 

For a moment he wonders what it’s like to be like this, to live like this. Free from the standards of Sixam as you go about your morning. There is no drive in you to conquer everyone, no overwhelming need to ‘fix’ those around you. You exist by yourself in this tiny house outside the city, like a moon always circling but never interacting. He knows you have your own circumstances that drove you here, issues where you suffered that same grueling past of people forcing ideas and beliefs upon you as Jungkook. But now you’re here, housing an extraterrestrial being such as himself without any payment. 

He wants to be like you. 

He wanders over towards the kitchen, returning your sleepy smile when you catch his gaze. Jungkook likes this. He enjoys seeing you in the morning, still trailed by the remnants of sleep, with skin tender to the touch. The smell of cocoa filling his nostrils, the chirp of the birds outside your window. He likes Smilodon and the mailman, and the woman half a mile from here who brought you peaches the other day. 

Most importantly, Jungkook likes you. 

Not as a breeding partner or convenient hostess, but as a person. Your laughter makes him feel warm inside, like he is genuinely appreciated as is. You’re gentle with your words, and even more so with your touch; hands pat his head, hold his arm when he stumbles too close to the garden. 

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

He wants to remain beside you. 

It’s a little stuffy inside your house today, a problem you solve by cracking open the kitchen window. A nice breeze flows over the two of you, pushing the scent of the cocoa and your coffee his way. But a sweeter one follows, something thick and earthy that rolls off of you in waves. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ward off those sounds he heard from you just yesterday afternoon. 

Those whiny sounds, airy whimpers that had drifted down from upstairs. A wet squelch that had registered a little too loudly to his superior ears. It had haunted him last night on the couch, made Jungkook twist and turn until the fuzzy image of you relieving yourself went away. 

Jungkook wanted to help with that too. He wanted to put his hands and his mouth in places you needed him most, pleasure you like you deserved. 

But how could he tell you all this and more? Did he even have the right as an invader to profess his infatuation to you? This Planet 43 Z-7, this Earth, was filled to the brim with interesting things, yet you remained at the very top of Jungkook’s list. He couldn’t leave, not now, but he couldn’t stay either. His entire presence in itself was a ploy to spread his seed, a fact you continued to be unaware of. 

Namjoon’s words bounce around his brain, twist and wrap around him until he’s shakily reaching for his mug. He couldn’t stay here any longer under this false pretense. He couldn’t lie to you another day, another second more. He was tired of being a sheep. It’s with this conflicting resolve that he commands himself to confess this to you at once. 

So he spills it all out to you. 

From the complex history of the Sixamians to his assignment of this mission. You listen quietly as you munch through breakfast, nodding along to each new point he brings up that changes the story. He tells you about the population mission, about how he was sent here to spread his superior genes over the land, but how he’s let that sit on the back burner while you taught him all sorts of new things. If you are unimpressed with Jungkook and Sixam, you don’t show it. 

“So you came to... breed?” you ask when he has finished, hands neatly folded on your lap. Breakfast is finished, plate scraped clean. 

Jungkook nods shamefully. “I was asked to contribute to the reconstruction of Planet 43 Z-7,” he says, repeating the practiced reasoning every Sixamian has heard at least once in their life. But in front of you, it makes him cringe. 

The grandfather clock in the hallway clicks along quietly, the soundtrack to Jungkook’s desperate read of you. Your eyes are focused on the plate before you, lost in thought at the abundance of information he has just thrown on you. He could easily switch his influential abilities back on, brighten your mood like he has been taught to do with countless other species since the beginning of time. But it feels wrong to subject you to that, to strip you of your emotions, even if it would save him the discomfort. 

Instead he sits in silence. 

Jungkook waits patiently, even though every fiber in his being is telling him to get up and make a run for it. Escape before he can see a look of disgust aimed his way. But he has come to value your opinions as equal to his, and the thought of leaving you by yourself does not sit well with him. So he waits. 

It takes a few minutes of contemplation before you grace him with an answer, nervously rubbing your hands over your thighs. “I understand, Jungkook,” you exhale tightly. “But I don’t think I’m the partner you are looking for.”

“No! I was not— It was not my intention,” he stammers, waving his hands all over the place in his hurry to explain. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I do not wish to force such a burden on you, __,” he manages, “I would not do that to you.”

He is about to pat himself on the back for his save, when suddenly the corners of your lips take a sharp drop. “Oh, I see,” you mutter, arms self consciously wrapping around your frame. “So you don’t see me as a suitable partner?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your drawn conclusion. “No,” he chokes, and your frown deepens. “I mean, yes, I do see you as a viable partner to engage in reproductive activities,” and now he’s spiraling, the surprised look on your face only fueling his pea-brained ramblings, “I just—I assumed you did not enjoy that? 

His excuse sounds so unbelievably weak even to his own ears. 

“What made you think that?” you ask. At the rate this conversation is going, Jungkook fears his brain will soon fry itself out. 

His mind is a spinning mess, like the inside of a vacuum that rumbles and turns with each new thought that enters. What was he supposed to say? That he’s heard you in your most intimate moments, moments where you hid from him? Or that he’s done countless scans on your body when you weren’t looking and came to the same result every time; that result being that you have never been touched by another before? And what was he supposed to draw from these conclusions if not that you abhorred such intimacy?  

“I-I heard… you,” Jungkook admits quietly. “And, I felt your emotions. They were nervous.” He does not need his thermal detector to feel the heat that floods your face. “I did not want to impose on such a fragile moment,” he continues. “And I apologize if my actions have made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you wave off, pressing the back of your knuckles to your cheeks. “I apologize for doing something so inappropriate with you in my house.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Do you not enjoy participating in sexual activities, __?” he asks curiously. 

You gulp loudly, obviously startled by his question. Which part of it, Jungkook doesn’t know. He nudges your knee with his, urging you to answer. A shaky exhale, and then you’re rambling. “I-No, I do,” you rush out, avidly avoiding his gaze. “I, um, I just have never, uh, been with anyone.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Is that why your reproductive areas are strangely well preserved for a being your age? I was beginning to wonder about the complexities of Human reproduction after meeting you, __. Is there a certain tradition one must follow to copulate with you?” 

“No, no,” you rush to correct. Jungkook has obviously said something that upset you, because when you speak again your aura is tainted with the hints of irritation. “Tradition is stupid,” you explain slowly, a sense of heartache consuming him at your rather lonely figure. He is beside you, yet feels a thousand light years away from your heart. “I was just a fool.”

His gaze softens, carefully placing a hand on your knee comfortingly. He doesn’t have to say anything more, just let you know he isn’t far at all, and you understand. You lean against his shoulder, the same sad look in your eyes. The grandfather clock ticks on in the hallway, in sync with the slow rhythm of your heart. Jungkook places a kiss to the crown of your head. 

The day drags on. 

Your morning chores are finished quickly with Jungkook at your side. He obsesses over the plants and plays with Smilodon. You make apple juice today with the fruits that fall from the tree out front. Jungkook enjoys it, but not as much as lemonade. Still, it gets its own entry in his log. 

He asks more questions about your world, straying away from the ones he had last week that seemed to exclusively revolve around the fauna and flora. Now, he is interested in your Human way of life. The TV confuses him, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between dramas and news stations. So you explain as best you can for him. 

His main issue lies in his inability to comprehend the constant strife within your planet, especially when you explain to him topics like poverty or homelessness. Sixam is nothing like Earth, he says, because everyone on Sixam is looked after and taken care of as deemed appropriate. There is no division of classes because deep down, every Sixamian acknowledges they are superior to the rest of the universe. It sounds like a utopia to you, but you’ve read enough books to know how those usually turn out. 

That fact intrigues Jungkook as well. How Humans can be aware of so many altering concepts and beliefs, yet desensitized to all. He doesn’t get it, and explaining the concept of fiction existing on a separate plane only confuses him more. 

Eventually you bring it back to tradition, somehow, that dreaded word you’ve come to abhor. Jungkook enjoys learning about your culture and your way of life, little things you do here and there. But as most things do in your life, the conversation circles back around to your failed marriage. 

“Ah,” Jungkook says. “So it is tradition to save your first reproductive act for the one you ‘marry’?” You nod, toes tucked up into the couch. It’s a little before sunset now, the orange hue of the outdoors leaking into your living room. “And then you take their last name? That is very confusing, __. I thought this last name identified you to your fellow Human, how can you so easily change it around?” 

You laugh. “It's complicated,” you offer. Jungkook chuckles as well, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information you provided him with today. 

Jungkook nods pensively but you doubt he understands. “I see,” he mumbles, fingertip tapping against the armrest he’s leaning against. It’s a tell tale sign that he desperately wants to document what you’ve said in his supercomputer bracelet but is holding back for the sake of this moment. You think it’s rather sweet. “So copulation does not always secure you a partner.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “People have different drives,” you say. “Some of them want love and some just want sex.”

“And you?” he asks suddenly, big purple eyes swirling with entire galaxies. “What would you like?” 

A lot of things, you think, but when it comes down to it, when Jungkook asks you with his pretty eyes and pouty lips, you can’t find the right words. “Both,” is your measly reply. “What about you?” 

He seems just as thrown off by your question as you, eyes widening as he leans back. The living room is bathed in warm splashes of color, the last of the sun’s rays painting Jungkook in a rather romantic light. You can’t look away. “I too would like both,” he admits, idly tracing the tip of his finger along the markings that decorate the tops of his knees. “This notion of attraction beyond the physical realm is not common in Sixam,” he answers. “Sixam is very… strict about what a relationship entails. 

You set your mug down on the side table, shuffling around until your toes poke his hip, arm thrown over the back of the couch. “How so?” you ask. 

Jungkook’s lips push out into a frown. “The Higher Sixamian Court has long since ruled that mating rituals between citizens are strictly limited to those that will produce the most immaculate genome,” he says, as if that is just another simple, everyday fact of life. It is for him, but not for you. 

“So, are you like… assigned?” you press, suddenly wondering how a being as curious and sentimental as Jungkook has survived so long in a place like Sixam. “And like, do you raise kids together?”

“Until the end of their first era,” Jungkook supplies, as if that makes the slightest bit of sense. “And sort of. Sixam is not that oppressive,” he jokes, but there is something about his eyes missing their usual glow that tips you off. “I have yet to copulate for reproductive purposes.”

You pause. “But you have for… fun purposes?” 

Jungkook looks at you seriously. And then, ever so slowly, the little marks beneath the corners of his eyes, the little triangles that usually flare blue, fade into a lovely pink shade. “I-“ he stammers, obviously flustered by your question. “I have.”

Your mouth parts into a little o. “With other Sixamians? Or….” Jungkook flushes, nods meekly. His expression seems off, like it isn’t a particular fond memory he carries. “Was it bad or something?” 

He sighs. “It is… very lacking. Nothing like the scenes depicted in your projection box.” He nods towards the TV, you barely contain a giggle at its name. You reach for your mug instead. “There is no,” he waves a hand in front of his face. The last rays of sun catch on his hand and turn his charcoal  markings a pretty gold. “No expressions of adoration beyond what is necessary. And I do not particularly enjoy that.” 

You nod understandingly. “You're soft,” you tease, watch his little triangles light up again at your words. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “so am I.”

He says nothing, just stares blankly out the front window as the sun disappears behind the horizons, leaving thousands of glittering lights in its wake. Not man made but natural; right. “I think your last name is lovely,” he suddenly announces. You chuckle against the lip of your mug, but Jungkook doesn’t find it amusing. He turns to you with that sparkling purple gaze, like you’ve hung those stars outside yourself. “There is no other __ ___ like you.”

Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the coffee steam rising from the mug or Jungkook’s unexpected reassurance. It makes your heart tender, sends a shock through your system that leaves your body buzzing. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, covering the palm he rests over the couch with yours. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ovulation ends, but your blossoming feelings for Jungkook do not go away. 

The next morning his comms remain shut off. Jungkook has never had his communications back home cut off, save for the time in his first era where he brashly spoke out against his superior in a lab. He was young and had much to learn, took too many risks and didn’t consider the consequences. He guesses he hasn’t grown much since then as he watches you tend to your garden. 

“Smilodon urinated in the closet,” he announces, witnessing the smile slowly slip off your features. He lets you revel in your annoyance for exactly two seconds before following with the phrase he heard on your box the other day. “Just kidding! You are being prank’d. 

Your frown is nothing like the expression the program’s contests exhibited following their supposed pranking. “Jungkook, that’s not funny,” you huff and his heart sinks. A soft snort. “Okay, maybe a little,” you concede with a terribly contained smile. 

He bounds over, kneels down beside you, and begins pulling the overgrown weeds out with you. “I saw it on the projection box the other day,” he explains excitedly, tossing the weeds into the bag between you two. “I did not know such pleasure could be received from silly broadcasts like that.” You nod, say something about all kinds of dumb shows existing before a pout taints your lips. “What's wrong?” 

A long sigh from you. “I think the sun isn’t reaching these,” you tell him, lifting the stem of a sad looking tomato plant. It’s the closest one to the house, often covered by the house’s shadow when the sun shines best. “They’re sad.”

He tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Sad?” he repeats, reaching for his wristband before he can stop to think. If his extensive journaling reads right, your planet’s vegetation follows similar patterns to that of another’s, requiring allotted amounts of sunlight and water to flourish. “How can it be sad?” 

Caught up in his notes, he doesn’t realize you’ve migrated to the other side of the garden now, dutifully picking out more weeds. “Well, it looks sad doesn’t it?” Jungkook glances back again. The tomato stalk is significantly droopy and malformed, smaller than its brethren who sit only a few inches away in direct sunlight. It’s colors are dulled and almost… sad. Huh. How peculiar. 

He chances one glance back at you, deems you far enough, and then channels the entirety of his energy towards the tomato plant. It wiggles a few times, kind of like it’s dancing, before you’re calling his name from the other side. “What’re you doing?” you ask, hand on your hip. Jungkook stills. 

“Um,” he drawls. The plant returns to its sulky state. 

Garbage bag full of weeds, you pass by him with a shake of your head. “Don’t do anything weird to my plants, silly,” you chide. Jungkook huffs, follows behind to take the bag off your hands. You thank him, join him for his walk around the house until he tosses the bag into the garbage can out front. Before he can retort and engage you in a playful argument regarding his superior abilities, you’re crouching down by the spigot out front. It’s making a weird hissing noise that has Jungkook frowning as he walks over. 

Right as he approaches, you make the amateur mistake of turning the handle, water spewing out from the gap between the spigot’s mouth and where it’s supposed to meet the hose. You screech, and Jungkook can’t shut it off fast enough. 

In the end, both of you are drenched. 

“Ugh,” you groan as you walk around the house to the unlocked back door. Jungkook trudges behind, just a teensy bit annoyed by the mud that quickly stains his rubber sandals. “This is so annoying!” you complain loudly, shaking yourself off like Smilodon when it accidentally fell into the sink the other day. “Ruined my day.”

At that Jungkook frowns. He does not want your day to be ruined, especially not by some faulty spigot outside. You were too good for such emotions, too perfect in his eyes. Sadness and the like did not suit you; they had no place ruining your beautiful features. You’re huffily patting yourself down at the back porch now, distress prominent on your features as you most likely consider the second load of laundry you will have to do today. 

The tomato stalk glances at him sadly from the ground, and before Jungkook can stop himself, he’s breathing in deeply and pushing his generally relaxed attitude onto you. You can be mad later, but right now Jungkook doesn’t want to see you sad. It’s effective immediately, your gloominess quickly fading away. You breathe in deeply, eyes falling shut, and when you open them again you’re offering him the most gentle smile he has ever seen. 

And a soaked through shirt that highlights the shape of your red undergarments. Jungkook’s eyes widen, unconsciously flicking down to the sight you present him with, and a different emotion floods his senses. 

It’s quite possibly his biggest mistake. Because while he can easily look away, it takes longer for those emotions to fade, and soon they’re being reflected on you. 

“Wow,” you exhale, shaking your head in confusion because these aren’t your emotions— you probably know they’re his. Jungkook feels terrible instantly. 

“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, scrambling up the steps to guide you inside. Simultaneously, he’s shutting down his influential abilities, scolding himself for slipping up with you like this. You most certainly did not want to feel this way around Jungkook, yet here he was quite literally projecting onto you. “Please, let’s go inside.” 

You nod, jolt when his hand touches the small of your back as he guides you in. “Oh,” you gasp, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to force himself from making the situation worse, from thinking thoughts you would not approve of. “Why— what's happening?” you ask in a breathy tone, lingering by the staircase Jungkook tries to push you up. 

He sighs. “I— I was trying to brighten your mood,” he admits, metaphorical ears pressed against his head like when Smilodon gets scolded for knocking down a plant. “And, um. There was— the, um, sight of your undergarments distracted me for a moment.” You glance down and seemingly become aware for the first time that your bright red bra is on display, shyly covering yourself with your arms. 

“Distracted?” you mumble softly, leaning against the banister of the stairs. Your skin is radiating more heat than Jungkook ever recalls, face demurely turned down towards the floor. He could have sworn he stopped projecting minutes again— why were you still behaving like this? Did he break you? Did he exude more energy than he meant to, accidentally extend the length of the emotions? “I’ll go upstairs now,” you announce quietly, touch his arm almost sensually as you pass by. 

Your skin is warm, that heavenly scent that Jungkook craved rolling off in waves— but he was certain he’d stopped himself before anything became too overwhelming. Were his emotions stronger than he had fooled himself into believing? There was no way he had felt or looked as riled up when he accidentally influenced you. So where exactly were these emotions coming from? What exactly was making you behave this way even after he’d withdrawn his influence? Could it be...

Jungkook watches with wide eyes, almost certain that your behavior, though sparked by his initial slip up, was entirely your own at this point. 

There was a lot of weight behind that. 

The water turns on upstairs, and he has to strain his ears, still his breathing, just for a hint of your sounds. But they’re there, quiet successors to the louder moans you’d let out the other day. They make him shiver, melt against the staircase as his cock twitches in his pants. His body comes alive, something distinctly carnal twitching beneath his skin, blossoming out at the base of his spine. 

And still, as he grinds his hand into his palm, it is not merely the sight of your red undergarments that render Jungkook useless. No, the ghost of your smile at his poorly executed prank follows, brands itself into the inside of his eyelids as he slowly falls apart. 

Was it your own emotions that had made you like that? he wonders, sinking to his knees in the hallway. If you came down right now, you’d certainly catch him. But Jungkook can still hear your muffled cries from upstairs, and furthermore, Jungkook wanted desperately for you to catch him. He knows you won’t, but the idea makes him shiver, has him coming in his bottoms shamefully. 

“What the,” he huffs, sweat trailing down his forehead. His brain replays that look in your eyes. That emotion you displayed that, although it may have been planted by him, was taken by you and magnified. Had you been just as excited by the sight of Jungkook’s wet body as he had yours? And if such was the case, was your attraction to him limited to the physical realm?

He doesn’t want to delude himself, but your words from the other day ring loudly in his ears. Soft, you had called him, for wanting something both physically and emotionally intimate. But you were the same, or so you claimed. 

Was it so wrong for Jungkook to think that ideology applied now?

That night you join Jungkook outside for his routine stargazing. He sits on the porch while you sit on your rocking chair, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jungkook retells his adventures across the universe. 

Space is bigger than you thought, with a culture far more complex than Earth’s. It makes you wonder how Jungkook, who has quite literally seen it all, can become so enamored with this place. There’s bigger and better somewhere out there; planets that won’t force terrible traditions on him or task him into ungodly missions. Yet he lingers here, in this quiet space between your garden and your house, head on your lap. 

His hair is soft, almost like silk, and he enjoys having it touched. “I do not wish to leave,” he admits quietly, empty mug long since set aside. You hum, encourage him to elaborate. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7.” 

You snort. “No way,” you say, trace your hand down his jawline. Jungkook says nothing of your wandering hands, skin warm to the touch. Some of his markings decorate his neck, curl around the pale skin in perfectly symmetrical swoops. They creep beneath the hem of his shirt, and you wonder what they look like down there. 

You flush those thoughts away, that afternoon’s events still fresh in your mind. From your understanding of the events, Jungkook had been excited at the sight of your body, so he obviously had to hold some attraction towards you. But how much of that was purely physical and how much was emotional? 

“I want to have your last name,” he announces suddenly. You choke, breath caught in your throat from the randomness of the statement. Your reaction makes Jungkook pull away from your touch, stare at you with wide eyes like you do him. 

“I— what?” you stammer, having gained back your composure. Or at least some of it. “Jungkook, I don’t think you know what that means.”

He frowns, shuffles around until he’s facing you, and lays his head across your lap again. This time, those purple eyes that dance with nebulas and stardust zero in on you. His hair tickles your bare thighs, makes you unconsciously press them together when his warm breath fans across your skin. “You amaze me,” he murmurs, eyes glazed. “I have never seen a being like you, who lives so far off from society, thrive in their own bubble— is it too much for me to want to live like you? Be with you?”

“Huh?” you ask, ever so eloquently. 

Jungkook smiles, turns his face to hide it against you. Pink lips brush against your skin, your hands unconsciously shooting into his hair to guide him away. When his head rolls back, he’s got this rather melancholy look on his face. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7,” he says again, “and I am looking right at her.” 

Your face burns. 

Heart hammering in your chest, palms sweaty, you don’t know what to say. He looks at you with that vibrant gaze, drinks you in like you’re the finest of wines and your heart absolutely cannot handle it. Your brain fumbles for a response but by then Jungkook is standing up, head tilted downwards cutely as he observes you. One hand in his, thumb gently swiping over your knuckles. “I would like to show you every expression of adoration possible, __,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back inside. 

You stay outside, turning his words inside and out, backwards and forwards, until you deduce that Jungkook of Sixam most definitely harbored the same feelings for you as you did for him. It’s odd, because it is exactly what you want but the idea scares you to death. The last time you let a man into your life under a similar guise you ended up wasting years of your life, clinging to this grand finale you never got. And now this foreign being was proclaiming his feelings for you, possibly propositioning you for the same thing. 

Did you want Jungkook? Yes, undoubtedly yes. He was free from the shackles of tradition that had held you down so long, didn’t believe in this twisted notion of your body being “sacred.” He was a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone you’ve ever met before (although part of that was due to his alien heritage).

However, he was not free of flaws, and perhaps that is what entices you more.

Jungkook, though he looked and spoke like the perfect man, was a being of his own, with struggles of his own. He too had his own handful of painful memories, toxic ideologies that followed him around. But Jungkook was willing to learn, to change. And you admired him for it. 

Tip-toeing back inside, you find the house shrouded in darkness. The steady tick of the grandfather clock lessens the rapid beating of your heart. Jungkook is sitting on the living room couch, legs pulled to his chest. Muscle memory has you reaching out for the top of his head like always, ready to pat his fluffy hair as if you hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes outside doing just that. He turns around just as your fingers touch his soft strands, purple eyes meeting yours. You trace your hand down the side of his face, knuckles brushing over his cheekbones; he puckers his lips, bestows a second tender smooch against you. 

“I like when you do that,” he says, voice unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent house. As he speaks, he shifts to the side, arm thrown over the back of the couch to look at you completely. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip and he gulps. “Makes me crazy.” 

You chuckle, releasing him to round the couch. Jungkook’s got this sweet smile on his face, hand outstretched for you. When you take it, he tugs you onto the couch, flush beside him. Your thigh is practically thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You heart flutters and you can no longer look him in the eye. 

But that’s okay because Jungkook can. He ducks down, dark hair tickling your skin as his breath ghosts over your lips. “May I?” he asks softly, nose bumping against yours. “May I have the honor of pleasuring you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, answering with a tiny nod that makes his lower lip brush against yours teasingly. “I-If I am suitable,” you mumble, tingles spreading all over your body. 

Jungkook smiles, pretty and bright, as he turns his head to slot your mouths together. “No,” he says, “if I am suitable. You are more than enough.” Lips brush against yours, shaky breath meets yours, and then he’s kissing you. Slow yet suave, carefully molding against you as if he is afraid of breaking you. His lips are like two soft pillows, moving against yours in a practiced rhythm that makes you tremble against him. Every bit the measly virgin, but Jungkook likes you just so. 

He pulls away with a pop, his figure shadowed by the darkness of the room. But his eyes, purple irises, glow brightly. Like two pools of cosmic dust swirling around his dark pupils. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before, but you hardly saw Jungkook in the dark anyway. He hides them too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in again. 

The second time, there’s a faint flick of his tongue against your bottom lip. The action makes you gasp quietly, lips parting for a fraction of a second. But Jungkook is quick, slips his tongue past your lips. It’s lewd; his breath mingles with yours, tongue pushing against yours. Slick and dirty, spit traveling between your two mouths, but Jungkook makes sure you’re okay, sinfully wrapping his lips around your tongue when you get too brave. A moan escapes you, fingers squeezing around his. 

Jungkook squeezes back, pushes forward until you’re pressed against the back cushions of the couch. “This okay?” he husks, low-lidded eyes meeting yours when he pulls away. You nod, words caught in your throat. Jungkook’s gaze lasers in on your mouth, and he seems to have an internal debate before eventually pulling away to kiss your neck. 

You tilt your head back, choppy exhales creeping out from between your lips as he kisses down the column of your neck, untangling his hand from yours to press against your hip instead. It’s with a devastatingly slow speed that he eventually slinks away, finds himself kneeling between you on the floor with hands dancing over the tops of your thighs. Your heart is beating a thousand miles in your chest, threatening to rip itself right out when he meets your eyes a second time. 

He pushes your legs apart, not once looking away as he gently encourages you to raise one. Lips pressed against your knee, slowly trailing down the skin of your thigh. Your hand squeezes at the couch cushions. Jungkook pulls a startled yelp from you when he tugs at the backs of your knees, makes you slump down the couch with your legs perfectly spread out for him, feet flat on the floor. Then he’s back to kissing you, languidly pressing smooch after smooch against your scorching skin until he’s reaching the apex of your thighs, stilling once to look your way. 

“Go ahead,” you choke out, hands clutched over your chest, as if that’ll keep your heart from up and running away. Jungkook takes your admission and moves on, puckered lips meeting your mound through your clothing. It’s the first time you’ve ever had someone else so close to your most sensitive areas, and rightly so, you whimper. 

“Shh,” he soothes, thumb pressing against your hip as he carefully hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. You’re quivering like a leaf, lower lip bitten raw between your teeth as you watch him move between your legs. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” Jungkook murmurs. 

Another press of his mouth against you, this time right over where your bud hides, and the sensation makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your shorts, take your underwear with them when he begins pulling them down your hips. You push yourself up briefly, let him slide them down your legs and bare yourself to him for the first time. 

Your cheeks flood with warmth, hands unconsciously reaching to pull your shirt down, but Jungkook catches you. Fingers tangle with yours, warm breath fanning over your slick folds. Unconsciously, you tense up at his proximity, the stark realization that this was the moment you had waited for for a good chunk of your life suddenly hitting you. Jungkook seems to notice you crawl inside your head, drawing you back with a squeeze around your hand, luminous eyes meeting yours. 

“If you need me to stop, I will,” he reassures you.

The blood is rushing to your ears, his words nearly lost in the madness. “Aren’t you scared?” you ask quietly, voice wobbly, holding his hands so tightly you’re surprised he doesn’t complain.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Would you like to know how I feel?”

Hesitantly, you nod. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, but the little triangle markings beneath his eyes begin to glow. Like fireflies in the dark, two little lights that intensify as he exhales.

And then, suddenly, you’re flooded with a new wave of emotions, similar to yours but not. They feel like yours, but are distinctly his, make you arch against the cushions with a soft groan. 

At the forefront, lust that swarms your senses and makes your body melt into the couch beneath you. It makes you shiver, nipples peaked beneath your top as his feelings and their intensity grow on you. It feels like drowning, like swallowing a thick and sticky substance that lingers in your throat and refuses to go away. It’s how he feels about you at this moment, so strongly it could drown him. 

So overwhelmed with that sensation alone, you almost don’t recognize the second emotion that Jungkook takes and pours into you. 

Warm and comforting, like being embraced by a thousand doves, kissed by a swarm of butterflies. It’s different from the first, doesn’t tap directly into your physical body, but wraps around your heart, creeps into your thoughts. Until you’re rolling your eyes back open and meeting his, the feeling so plainly spelled out across his features. 

Sheer and utter adoration. 

“Oh,” you breathe, face scorching to the touch following the emotions Jungkook’s just revealed to you. 

He grins, shy, and squeezes your hand. “What do you want to do?”

Biting your lip, you take initiative and hook your knee over his shoulder, the same way he had shown you just moments prior. “Please,” you murmur, “show me more.”

And Jungkook does.

A soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose running along your skin teasingly. And then he’s faced with your puffy lips, pink skin slick with arousal. Jungkook sighs softly, tilts his head as if he’s analyzing his next course of action, and then carefully places his mouth against you. 

“Mmmh,” you whimper, hips instinctively bucking into the touch, never having felt such intense pleasure before. Jungkook doesn’t mind as he languidly kisses your folds, eyes shut as he loses himself in the motions. The first swipe of his tongue makes you twitch, arms flailing but Jungkook holds them down, entwined fingers pressed against the couch. 

His tongue is an entity of its own, wet muscle pressing and licking at your most sensitive areas like it was made specifically for this. Never mind talking, Jungkook’s tongue was made to lap at your pussy like this. He licks a long stripe up from your quivering hole to your engorged clit, curling at the end as if you were nothing more but a sweet for him to mindlessly play with. 

Your muscles clench up, the leg thrown around his shoulder unconsciously pulling him closer until his nose is pressed flush against your clit. Jungkook breathes in deeply, moans softly but it sends earth-shattering vibrations up your core until you’re a whimpering mess. “O-Oh,” you cry, sweat clinging to your skin as Jungkook continues lapping at your folds. 

He releases one hand, uses it to push your other leg further away to properly slot himself against you. You take the opportunity to wildly reach for him, grabby hands lost in the silky waves on his head as you urge him closer to where you need him most. You’re not even sure where that is anymore, your clit or your entrance, but Jungkook switches between the two just fine. 

That warm tongue prods at your entrance, tip sinking inside just enough to make you gasp. It’s a new experience for you, someone’s tongue touching and stroking you there, and it feels like an entirely new door opens from that action alone. You whimper his name, dig your nails across his scalp like maybe he’ll grant you a reprieve and pull away. But you don’t really want that, and so you’re happy when he stays where he is. 

The hand that had rested against the juncture of your hip glides up, lays flat over your mound with his thumb idly swirling around your clit. The combination of his tongue breaching your hole and his fingers playing along your clit makes you spasm. “Wait,” you sob, the muscles in your thighs twitching as he licks away. “I-I’m gonna—“

An overpowering wave of relief floods your senses shortly before that last syllable can escape your lips; everything goes tight and then suddenly you’re on a cloud, cum spilling from your heat and onto his waiting tongue. Jungkook licks it all up, slurps loudly against your clit as the last waves of your orgasm run their course. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up your navel, t-shirt pushed away as he goes. 

When he reaches your face, you’re quite embarrassed to find the area around his mouth to be glistening with your juices. “You’re incredible,” he says, easygoing smile on his lips. But there’s something hard and heavy against you, snuggled between your thighs, that makes your face heat up all over again. 

You can’t find the words to respond, and lose the opportunity when Jungkook captures your lips with his again. He’s more assertive this time around, roughly pushing against you until you’re certain you’ll bruise. But it feels good, makes you wrap your hands around him as Jungkook grinds down against you. When he pulls away, he’s got this dark look on his face, out of place against such bright eyes. 

He says nothing as his hands creep up your waist, push your t-shirt and bra out of the way, until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. Experienced hands massage them thoroughly, roll the soft skin between his fingers. His mouth is against yours again, tongues pressed together; Jungkook groans and the sound shoots straight between your thighs. He pinches a nipple between his fingers and you whimper, break away from his kiss to hide your face against his shoulder.

His cock is heavy against your folds, the thick material of his pants slowly stimulating you again. The cotton brushes against you, most certainly picks up your wetness as it goes, and Jungkook lets it as he continues to grind down against you with his hands on your tits. Your hands tear their way down his back, fist the material of his shirt in your hands. “Off, off,” you plead, desperate to feel more of him against you.

Jungkook complies, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. You were right about his markings, dark swoops and circles that decorate his chest and abdomen before tapering down around his waist. Your mouth salivates at the sight, blindly reaching for your own clothes as if one look away will make him disappear. 

He doesn’t.

In fact, the removal of both your tops only makes Jungkook hungrier, completely abandoning your lips to suck your breast into his mouth instead. “Jungk— fuck,” you wail, slipping further down the couch as you lose yourself in Jungkook’s embrace. His teeth nibble at your swollen bud, roll the sensitive skin around before pulling off with a wet pop. 

Your breath jumps when he reaches behind you, corded arm locking around your waist as he repositions the two of you, unsatisfied with the previous position. He lifts you up with his undoubtedly superior strength, one palm beneath your thigh as he plops you down across the couch more comfortably, head neatly resting on a throw pillow. 

Your heart is in your throat, desperate to memorize the man before you, inked skin, lean and meaty, vibrant violet eyes that focus solely on you. Before he can join you on the couch, Jungkook steps away, tucks his thumbs into his waistband and swiftly removes them. His engorged cock, bigger than any you’ve seen in any erotic video— and that was saying a lot —springs up against his navel, flaming tip glaring right at you. Your pussy quivers at the sight. 

“Come here,” he husks out as he moves towards you. You welcome him with open arms, a soft groan of his name against his lips as he shoves his tongue past. His hands are everywhere now; one squeezes at your breast, hand molded to the flesh, while the other runs along the underside of your thigh, guides it over his waist. And another tickles around your navel, soft—

You shriek, eyes snapping open as you tug Jungkook over you as a shield. “What was that?” you heave, wide eyes roving over the dark living room, like maybe you’ll find Smilodon traversing the carpet and it was his silky tail that came too close. 

But Smilodon doesn’t usually appear at night, nor is there anything else in the living room with you and Jungkook. Your heart hammers in your chest, carefully meeting his dark gaze until something thin and distinctively alive appears over his shoulder. Another scream tears itself from your lips.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook shushes, pulls away to cup your face in his hands. “Forgive me,” he says tenderly, “we are so similar, I forget you do not possess extra arms.”

You pale. “E-Extra arms?” you choke, eyes focused on the thin ‘arm’ that slinks out from behind Jungkook, almost screeching again when a second one appears on the opposite side. And then a third, a fourth. 

It is no arm, but rather… a tentacle? Sans the weird suction cups. They’re thin little things, no thicker than his wrist, that dance behind him as if they have a mind of their own. They move as if suspended in water, soft lilac skin tenderly touching yours. You shiver, its smooth skin odd against your supple flesh. Jungkook relaxes, but draws them back anyway. “Forgive me,” he says again, taking your hand in his to press a peck against it. Your heart flutters at the gesture that was slowly driving you insane. “I shall keep them at bay.”

You nod shakily, but cannot deny the curiosity that picks at you when they slink back into the base of his spine, blend seamlessly against his skin. “What… what do they do?” you ask tentatively. 

Jungkook hums as he descends upon you, featherlight kisses against your shoulder and up your neck. “Hmm? They help me out,” he explains mindlessly, pulling you flush against his cock again. A moan tears itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you force yourself to focus on the moment again. 

But your hands unconsciously wander down his spine as he kisses you, circle the skin where your swear they had to have disappeared beneath, until Jungkook is pulling away with a confused expression on his face. “Would you like to see them again?” he asks quizzically, sweat forming along his hairline. 

You cannot play it off any longer; meekly, you nod. “I— they were interesting,” you admit in a quiet voice, nervously twiddling your fingers over your chest. 

Jungkook says nothing for a second, until he’s lightly chuckling and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Okay,” he concedes, and goes back to rolling his hips against yours. 

About to protest, the words are robbed from your throat when something soft and blunt tickles your thigh. “Oh,” you shudder, prevailing through the initial shock as Jungkook’s ‘arm’ slides around the diameter of your thigh to brush against your cunt. It’s silky and smooth, pushes against your lips until it’s emerging past them, slipping inside of you.

You gasp, head lolling backwards as the sensation gets to you. It feels the same as your fingers do when you’re in the shower, but it moves differently, gauging your reactions as it curls within your walls. Jungkook muffles a low chuckle against your chin, kisses spread over you until his tongue is back down your throat.

“Feels good?” he asks, hot mouth against yours. You nod jerkily, hands digging into his biceps. Another appendage tickles around your waist, dips into your navel and makes you giggle. It’s a sound that’s frankly out of place amongst your moans and whimpers, but it makes Jungkook smile. It eventually moves away, continuing its soft caresses elsewhere. 

The one that plays in your pussy has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, jaw slack. Perfect for Jungkook who pushes and prods until his saliva is dripping down your throat, catching in the corners of your lips. It impossibly fattens inside of you, makes you choke just as a different one dances around your neck. “I— I,” you stutter, boneless beneath him as the soft tip traces around the column of your neck tenderly, lovingly. 

There’s so many different areas to focus on: one rubs comfortingly beneath your breast, while another fucks into your cunt. The contrast has your head spinning, unsure of where to look. 

There’s something about the one inside of you that makes you feel so sticky and wet, more so than before. Like it’s oozing something out, making the glide against your walls smoother than before. It makes your body tingle, sends a feeling down your spine that you’re almost certain isn’t normal. 

At the same time, there’s a brush along your thigh again, a tight coil around the flesh of your skin tightly that encourages your legs apart. More room for Jungkook to squeeze in. It wraps around you, slithers past its sibling and prods against your ass. Your heart skips a beat, buck into Jungkook’s embrace as it slips between your cheeks— you gasp. It releases that same substance that makes everything so wet. You tremble at the touch, body already so overwhelmed. 

Your attention is snatched away before anything can happen, Jungkook tugging you closer until the ridges of his cock are running along your folds, each push sending his goddamn tentacle deeper inside of you. You moan, hands shakily traversing his skin until you’re cupping his face in your palms. “More,” you hoarsely whisper, dazed eyes meeting his. “Please.”

Jungkook nods, presses one more kiss against your lips before shuffling around. The appendage inside of you swiftly recoils, has you shivering from the way it slips out of you so easily. As it finally emerges from your folds, you find it’s slick with cum and something slightly pink, sparkly and wet as if it’s got precum of its own. The sight amazes you, makes you want to touch it. Before you can, it’s moving again. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t go away, doesn’t return to hide within Jungkook’s body, but wraps around his cock tightly. Purple tendril against engorged skin, makes him sigh at the squeeze. 

He holds the base of his cock, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he regards you with an unrecognizable look. One hand on your thigh, fingers gripping tightly even before he’s done anything. “Tell me you want this,” he exhales, “please?” 

You nod hurriedly, hands reaching for his hips to urge him closer. “Want this,” you assure him, quiver when the head of his cock presses against your folds. Bigger than your fingers, bigger than that damned appendage, and it was going inside of you. “Want this so bad,” you whimper, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. A squeeze around your breasts, a flick against your nipples. It’s not Jungkook’s hands, and that fact makes you shiver. 

They curl around your breasts, frame the mounds gently before the flatted tips meet your nipples, tease them with featherlight nudge. 

Eased by the certainty of your words, Jungkook relaxes. He places a hand on your hip, the other still holding his cock as he lines himself up with your throbbing entrance. You’re so wet, dripping in your own cum and whatever that tentacle released, thighs slippery and shiny. The anticipation in your chest swells, pushes against your rib cage until you’re afraid it’ll break. The little markings beneath his eyes flash and suddenly it’s gone, replaced with a sense of comfort that only doubles when he flashes you a tiny smile.

The first press of his cock makes your back arch, has you knocking every throw pillow off the couch as he slowly eases his way in. “Oh god—“ you sob, the sudden intrusion being questioned by every muscle in your body. Immediately, two of his tentacles snap forward, release their soft grip on your neck and their wrap around your breasts to caress up your sides, smooth ends practically kissing your skin with their soft nudges. 

They by no means lessen the pain, but their butterfly touches are a nice distraction that tickles your skin, makes you whimper softly as Jungkook slowly sinks into you. 

Jungkook ducks over you, tip of his nose against yours. “Breathe for me,” he instructs, even though his breath is labored against yours. One appendage cups your cheek, curls softly around your ear to hold your head still— you feel so spoiled with all the attention. You make an effort, breathe in swiftly through your nose as Jungkook pushes in deeper.

Slowly, the discomfort fades away. It melts and in its wake you’re left with a dull numbing sensation that starts in your toes and magnifies as it reaches your ears. It grows until the weight of his cock inside of you has you drooling, eyes unfocused as you watch Jungkook push himself to the hilt, the ridges of the tentacle wrapped around his cock making you jolt with every push. 

At the same time as his cock thrusts inside of you, a sneaky little thing continues it’s dance between your cheeks, pokes and kisses at your hole like it’s testing you. It is, really, because you've never had anything up your ass before— up until a few moments ago, you had barely had anything in your pussy. 

This was your first time, yet two seperate holes were begging to be filled, clenching tightly at Jungkook kisses along your chest, hands wound beneath the small of your back. The playful tentacle near your behind does just that— plays until you gently reach back for it, trembling hands giving it the go ahead it needs to finally plunge itself within you. Like an excited little being, it flutters against your hand a soft, kiss-like press against your palm before returning to its favored spot. 

It chooses the perfect moment to press in, takes advantage of Jungkook’s first few slow thrusts to slip its way inside. A loud moan tears itself from your throat, and Jungkook joins along. “I-I’m sorry,” he pants, mouth against yours. “I-I just want to feel you.”

You shake him off, body twitching from the utter fullness you felt, the weight in between your folds and your ass that moves in opposing strokes. His cock, wrapped in those bulging ridges, pushes in just as the tentacle in your rear pulls out, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper and sob. 

It feels good, amazing even, and you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook’s lips slot against yours, slow and lazy as he lets your body grow familiar with the stretch. He kisses you until the cat-like grip you have on his shoulders weakens, replaced with wandering hands that trail down his spine. The base of his spine where his protrusions appear is unique, makes him buck against you when you wrap your hands around one appendage.

“S-Sensitive,” he says as an apology, never mind the fact you want him desperately to fuck into you like that again. You voice such thoughts and Jungkook groans against your skin. “Really?” He chokes out, “I can move?”

One nod and then he’s off, for real this time. 

He’s slow at first, like he’s hesitant about hurting you, but you tuck one leg around him, pull him closer until he’s forced deeper inside of you, and from there everything is a downward spiral. You forget Jungkook of Sixam is superior for more than just one reason, harsh reminder given in the strong snap of his hips that would have otherwise sent you flying off the couch if that same strength wasn’t channeled into the arms he held you with. 

You reach for his hair, desperate to feel that comforting silk between your fingers, but then there’s something wrapping around your wrists. It pins your hands down, twists around your wrists twice before snaking up and curling along your fingers. Like it wants to hold your hand, wants to fill the spaces for Jungkook. The thought makes you burn, insides a boiling mess as he fucks into you, hands held down above your head.

“Jungkook,” you sob, squirming in his hold. It’s like whenever you move, there’s something there, holding you down or fucking you senseless. He responds with a grunt, roughly thrusting into you over and over until all you can manage is a series of hiccups. 

The ridges around his cock, the added thickness lended to him by his extra appendage, has every shove past your lips sending tingles like an ascending xylophone shooting throughout your body. The rhythmic stretches make you huff like a dog against him, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed. 

At the same time as he delivers killer grind after grind, another arm, the one that had been left out of the fray, slithers around your chest, looping twice around your frame and caging your breasts between them. Like bondage, except it’s Jungkook’s own body holding you down. 

You don’t think about the absurdity of it too much, couldn’t anyway. Your brain is a scrambled mess of Jungkook’s lips and incandescent eyes, lost in the purple galaxies and stars he holds, slowly slipping away from reality with each brutal thrust he gives. His name tumbles from your lips, and yours from his. He holds you like you’ll slip away, sweaty skin pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of his hips.

The thick appendage buried within your ass makes you squirm. It’s a tight fit, one you don’t get too stuck on because for every reprieve from its maniac thrusts you are met with the equally ferocious slam of Jungkook’s cock. So it stays in the back of your mind, this curling tentacle that stretches the tight rim of your ass apart. 

You were stuffed to the brim, eyes rolling back as you struggled to keep up. A soft brush along your jawline makes you gasp, before your mouth is tentatively filled with something soft and pulsing. Oh, you would die, you think, mindlessly sucking around the tentacle squeezed between your lips. It fattens in your mouth, pushes roughly against your tongue in rhythm with Jungkook’s cock. You cough, gag even, but it doesn’t move away. It drips a thick substance down your throat, disgustingly sweet. 

“Please, please,” he pants, quiet and lost among your own higher-pitched moans. Your leg hikes itself further up, accidentally brushes at the base of where two of his tentacles protrude, and Jungkook jolts against you. His cock presses so deep into your walls, you swear you feel him kiss your cervix. “__,” he pants, tongue lapping at the skin of your neck, picking up the sweat and replacing it with his thick saliva. “Be mine, please.”

Your heart pounds with the beat of a marching band's pace, loud thundering that competes against the slapping of Jungkook’s skin against yours. You whimper around the weight in your mouth, the idea he places in your head only fueling that lifelong dream of yours. Your grip around the appendages that hold your wrists down tightens, its faint heartbeat-like pulse felt between your fingers. 

“Let me be yours,” Jungkook moans, pulls out once only to slam his cock past your folds, hold himself there as your brain scrambles to rewire itself. As he says this, your mouth is freed, saliva and that sticky wet substance sloppily splattering across your lips and chin at the rather harsh exit. “And you will be mine.”

“Yes, yes!” you choke, dribbling drool down your chin.

It ends too soon.

Jungkook reaches a hand down, thumb feeling for your clit, but he’s pressed so tightly against you, it takes a second before the rough pad makes contact. That simple swipe, one half circle, is enough to make you unravel. “J-Jungkook,” you wail, biting down against his shoulder, “I’m—“

Your orgasm swallows you whole, his tentacle in your ass joining alongside you. It bursts inside of you, makes your ass leak with cum when it finally pulls out. 

“I’ve got you,” he shudders, stills when your pussy clenches down around him, creamy pleasure dripping down around his cock. Your cries fill the air, body falling slack against the couch as you struggle to recover. Your head is a foggy mess, clouded by the slow snap of Jungkook’s hips as he reaches his arousal. Each push against your folds feels even more intense now, overstimulated walls fluttering wildly around him as his cock slips in. 

His body stiffens and he swiftly pulls out, every ridge of his cock sucked back by your pussy, and when he finally frees himself— from your clenching walls and his tightly-gripping tentacle—he spills over your abdomen. Sticky and pink, like the strawberry lube you keep in your drawer, except its come out of Jungkook as a result of your rump in the sheets. 

As quickly as his body locked up, it slumps just as fast, heavy muscles and long limbs crashing down over you before you can react. 

“Jungkook—“

The sun shines in through the front window, wakes him from his slumber slowly and then all at once. He accidentally shifts into a patch of sunshine, the blinding light irritating his eyes until Jungkook is forced awake. His body aches but has never felt better, a weird sense of relaxation flooding his senses. For a moment, he is confused.

Eyes scan over the room, purple irises carefully calculating every bit of information until he catches sight of Smilodon’s furry tail and the memories of last night come swarming back in. He sits up quickly, whirling around for any glimpse of you, only to find you’re nowhere in sigh—

“Morning.” A small hand atop of his head, fingers stroking against his scalp. Instantly, Jungkook melts into the touch. 

You walk past him and into the kitchen, where you get to work making the usual breakfast for you and Jungkook. He watches you from the couch, naked beneath the blanket you’ve so graciously covered him with. The sun leaks into the kitchen, paints you in soft shades of orange as you amble around the area. 

The scent of hot cocoa fills the air, calling him to the space behind you after he dresses. “Good morning,” he says shyly, presses a kiss against your shoulder. Hesitantly, he lets his hands slide around your waist, lock over your navel. You don’t push him away, simply pat the side of his head as Jungkook snuggles into you. 

You don’t speak about last night and neither does he. You eat eggs for breakfast and Jungkook playfully knocks his foot against yours beneath the table. “Don’t play footsies with me,” you laugh. Jungkook quite likes footsies. 

Morning chores are skipped, pushed off in favor of sitting in front of the couch. You sit beside him, flush against his side, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. The projection box tells him about the weather, says something about a stock market, but other than that, it is relatively quiet. 

There is no mission to complete, no tradition to uphold. It is just Jungkook in this new and not as scary world. The mailman always visits, and Smilodon shows his face every now and then. It is a routine he adores, but not as much as the Human at his side.

He doesn’t remember taking his headpiece off until it beeps from its spot on the coffee table, three distinctive chirps that signal an incoming call from the Higher Sixamian Court.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[izzy-b-hands]

I survived

It took half the last edible caramel I have

There was... so much more but to sum up in a few key moments:

-my uncle ditching for an hour before we were going to open gifts to go DUI test ppl his co-workers arrested tonight. He talked abt it gleefully, saying it didn't matter what they blew on the machine, no one was going home. I resisted the urge to ask him how he'd feel if he was in that situation, bc he thinks he's gods gift and presumes he'll never do anything he personally would dislike others doing. sure. whatever asshole

-My 16 yr old cousin watching my grandma open up one of those massage gun things (like the one they made a spectacle of at Thanksgiving) and shouting that she doesn't have to come moan in their living room anymore (she has chronic pain in multiple spots, so she was making noises but like. it's ur grandma bro can u pls not)

-the 18 and 21 year going off on each other during present opening over just. nothing. the way one opened a gift, the way she laughed, anything. Then cut to two seconds later and them gossiping abt their fellow CNAs like they love each other. Wouldn't mind the sisterly whatever the fuck that all is, but god they can scream so loud.

-my uncle finding out the 21 year old had a sip of margarita my grandma made for her and my aunt to share earlier in the day, and immediately losing his shit telling her as his daughter she will not fucking drink, ever. I personally find she's a 21 year old adult who can make that choice herself, but ya know. He likes parenting now that she's an adult and doesn't need as much, my aunt took care of a lot of the hard shit for him years earlier.

-my mum getting mad that only I tried the appetizer she made and brought, and when my grandparents said hey there's just a lot of food leave us a tray to try for leftovers, she instead gave most of them to me and begrudgingly left a tray for them. I wanted to cry, my grandma looked so hurt. Not that I'm not very grateful for the extras for myself but like. It didn't have to go down like that either.

-mum's bf had us leave as soon as presents were done bc he (understandably lmaooo) can't stand being around our family for long for a good few reasons (kids swear, are too loud, act entitled, fight most of the night, complain abt & critique their gifts tho that actually only happened once or twice tonight.) I both wanted to leave and didn't. Wanted to stay and have another small plate and talk to Grandma and Grandpa while the kids checked out their new stuff. But also, still not feeling amazing and definitely v overwhelmed like. I have maybe two spoons left to get myself showered and some more food in me, then im mucking around on here and just. yeah. idk. lots of weird conflicting family feelings.

However all that said, i am grateful I had family to visit, that the food I managed to eat was delicious, and that they were very kind in the presents they got me. I just wish it could be a little less of the above and my earlier posts sometimes.

Im gonna go slump on the bathroom tile for a bit and cry i think. then back to reblogging pirates and stuff

[rivetgoth]

trip report from last night did a new drug for tha first time ✌

omfg i tried molly 4 the first time last night and it was a mess. i kno molly isnt really a consistent single type of drug so idk wtf i got but like, it was from a batch a lot ov people i know had already taken and had good reports, so idk. anyway i took it like an hr before we left for the club hoping it would hit shortly after i was there and instead like, 2 hours in i was feeling basically nothing but a little antsy, a little anxious, sorta in my own head, nothing much else though. so i had a drink (just 1 !! being responsible with the molly/alcohol overlap i promise) to calm my nerves and was feeling better but mostly just normal buzzed at the club... we danced a little but the music was NOT that good and the dancefloor was NOT popping, it was empty as fuck tbh. then a big group of friends got there and literally two and a half hours after taking the pill... it HIT out of NOWHERE as i was trying to say hi to them, my heart started slamming in my chest and i felt so delirious, i felt like i was going to die tbh and i KNOW drugs enough to know that im not, literally like a bunch other ppl i know have taken this batch of pills they are safe and it was just me freaking out but my heart felt out of control, angel was reassuring me that my heartbeat sounded fine but i was panicking like when i took too many edibles or shrooms lol 😭 so i was having this stupid panic attack in slow motion at the club while trying to act normal enough to socialize...

everything just felt really chaotic and too much. like the music wasnt good but it was so damn loud, i didnt know anybody except my immediate friend circle and it felt simultaneously too crowded and surrounded but also like there was nothing to do, nobody was being super sociable there, i just felt so insane i felt so out of control i wanted to keep moving but i also wanted to lie down and i couldnt talk or communicate well with people, me and angel went to the bathroom so i could try to calm down and i just kept repeating that i felt like i was going crazy........ finally i just told her i wanted to go because i couldnt handle it, it was just too much, i was getting paranoid during every conversation and i just wanted to sit down somewhere... the bouncers were being really really rude about ins and outs and kept demanding to know why we were leaving and what we wanted from the car, as if thats any of their business when we paid the fucking 25 dollar cover fee and were on the guest list loll stupid. we sat in the car and one of my bffs came out to chat with us for awhile, the bouncers gave him a little less shit because he explained he was coming out to check on us haha. it was so nice after that, just chilling in the car and talking. me and angel decided to go home early after that, it wasnt even midnight yet i dont think, we drove around and listened to music and it was sooo nice, i felt so much more in control and just felt so elated and euphoric... listening to skuppy and ministry and thrill kill kult and iamx and tr/st and male tears etc etc. once i was out of the club and in the car and then in my house with speakers on listening to music it felt amazing, totally euphoric like similar to the times ive taken fucking.. prescription opioids and shit, like wow, but my god @ how bad that shit hit at the club, one of the scarier drug experiences of my life initially 😭 such is the life of a goth club kid in his 20s ig lmaooo. the club was wack honestly it was wayyyyy too expensive, 25 cover fee plus 25 for each drink plus 8 dollars for water plus rude bouncers empty dance floors and boring music. waste of time but at least i got that experience outta the way, it was really fun to experience in hindsight. fear and loathing in los angeles.

[denkineptune]

mha date headcanons- boys and girls :))

♡ request: “i love ur blog already, ur writing is so good!!! im so excited to see the content u’ll be posting !! :D since ur taking requests, how abt some date headcanons for the mha boys (or girls if u want!) ?” - @dianangels​ 

♡ thank you for letting me write girls aaa i chose to do some as first date hc. it was kinda hard to keep jirou’s gn because i wanted to reference wlw stereotypes but i succeeded in gender-neutral because i want everyone to be able to enjoy

♡ dedicating part of this to @anxious-botanist​ because she’s the one who inspired the momo cuddles hehe sorry it took so long

♡ fic details: headcanons, fluff, gender-neutral reader, 2nd pov

characters: kaminari, amajiki, jirou, ashido, yaoyorozu

kaminari- arcade

↠AR C ADE   DA T  E

↠you hear me??? arcade!! date!! ideal man, right here, someone claim him immediately or else i will be forced to take ownership

↠he’s super laid back and chill, pretty childish at heart. he only means the best, though, so i think an arcade is exactly what he would go for when taking you on a date! he doesn’t have a lot of money but still wants you to go home with something to remember the date by

↠he buys like $50 worth of tokens and splits it between the two of you, making sure that he tells you which games give the most tickets, because he’s definitely been here enough times to remember

↠his favorite game is either crossy roads or the big bass wheel- he loves crossy roads because of how cute the style is, but also there is impending stress and levels of  d o o m  as you progress further. big bass wheel is basically just gambling, and i think he’s yumeko jabami.

↠he hacks games to make you win sometimes,, his quirk is bascially designed to do this. it’s like he was born just to take you out on this arcade date. he uses his quirk to short circuit the game and trick the computer into giving you hundreds of tickets

↠he just wants to make you happy and see you smile!! there’s not a feeling quite like succeeding at something as silly as an arcade game, but there’s a certain pride to it that he loves seeing on your face. 

↠kaminari only does it a few times, since he knows that you should be earning your prizes ((not that you know when he does it, he’s really cheeky about it))

↠playyyy multiplayers with him! he loves DDR (dance dance revolution)- you do multiple rounds and are equally exhausted by the end of it akdflad you may not be good, and tbh neither is denki, but you still have fun, which is what matters

↠he also loves taking photobooth pictures, he puts on the most horrendous filters and does the dumbest poses, but it’s so adorable. he does the typical one smile, one “serious”, one silly face, one kith > <

↠kami gets cocky,,, it’s just how he is,, he gets overly confident whether or not he’s been on a winstreak

“heyy, y/n! look at my speedrun on this, i’m getting so many tickets, i’ll be able to get a house by the end of it!”

↠and then he CAN’T because he doesn’t get the jackpot eghgdhgeh

↠by the end of the day, you’ve spent hours at the arcade, laughing and screaming with denki as you terrorize the small children. yes, he’s that kind of guy

↠by “terrorize”, i don’t mean like a bully, but he’s unintentionally intimidating kids with his pockets overflowing with ticket chains, a crazed look on his face as he goes absolutely ham on the shooting games

↠there’s electricity coming off of him, kids sometimes have to dodge it when passing by

↠so anyways, by the end of the date, you’re basically being kicked out of the arcade, because, as kami puts it,

“we were here when it opened and i’ll be damned if we’re not here when it closes,”

↠between the two of you, you’ve aquired tens of thousands of tickets??? the employees probably hate y’all, they had to count those beasts of ticket rolls you’ve accumulated during the 10 hours the arcade was open

↠exactly 62,069 tickets (69 go brrr- kaminari’s brain), and you can basically buy the arcade with that currency

↠but here’s the thing: he lets you spend all of it. you heard me, all. of. it. he just wants to see you happy, and the best way he can think of to get a final glorious memory of your smile is to let you spend the tickets as you see fit, this generosity just to see you glowing as you walk out of the building, arms chock full of amazing junk

↠but of course, you’d feel bad if you spent all of it, especially since he was the one who took you out, so you offered him the half of the tickets that were won

“denki, you won most of these with your amAzINg gaming skills, it’s only fair you get to have something too,”

“my prize will be seeing you- your- your-- aw fuck, i forgot the line, it’ll come back to me, just give me a minute.”

↠he tried to be smooth and it failed, but you chuckled at the attempt, so all around, he considered it a success

↠denki gets a lot of dumb things that will probably end up being thrown away soon, but he also gets you a very soft bat stuffed animal that you should treasure and keep forever 

amajiki- a walk and picnic in a japanese garden

↠tamaki is very shy, very socially anxious. he’s the kind to wait for people to leave a section of a store before he goes there, purposely do his errands in the early morning to limit social interaction, and find any excuse to leave a situation. which, tbh, isn’t that all of us?

↠let’s be honest here, if it wasn’t y’alls first date, he’d probably not go anywhere. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t really care for anything too fancy

↠but he’s convinced himself that he needs to do something reasonably big for your first date to make sure you don’t regret your decision to go out with him. so instead of deciding to stay in, he goes somewhere that’s only slightly anxious for him, but where he still feels comfortable

↠so he’s decided on a japanese tsukiyama garden! these places are beautiful by design, not cheap but not too expensive, and people are obligated by rules to be quiet and keep their hands to themselves

↠nobody goes to a garden to socialize, in fact, i’d argue most people go just to look around, rest, and clear their heads. there’s usually not any screaming children, no quirk usage, no villains, it’s a little safe haven. 

↠bonus: there’s butterflies :))

↠it’s so peaceful, and he gets to focus on you instead of whatever loud noise is making him anxious

↠he brings a picnic basket filled with all your favorite foods, and his! he makes a show out of displaying what he can manifest with different snacks, making a point to eat edible seeds so he can produce flowers for you 🥺🥺🥺

↠you walk around the garden for a few hours, marveling at the decor and how well-maintained everything is. there’s a koi pond, hanging wisteria trees, and multiple gazebos that create a really comfortable and calm environment

↠speaking of koi ponds, amajiki offers to buy you food so you can feed the fish! you stand on a bridge above the pond, sharing the container with him. the sMILE on his face when he watches you throw the food is so pure i’m-

↠he’s the walking embodiment of “uwu”- his face is so calm and his eyes are shining and he can feel his heart swelling with love i am GOING to cry my eyes out 

↠but honestly, he wishes he could stay in this moment forever- you’re happy, he’s happy, and it feels like you two are the only people in the universe. right now, he doesn’t have to worry about school, villain attacks, his future, or anything that makes him anxious; all that he can see right now is how beautiful and at peace you look. he took you out today, and you’re enjoying yourself. this is one of the few things that makes him confident: knowing that he’s able to make you happy

↠tamaki is silently celebrating; you’ve had a good time and he didn’t freak out, so it’s the best possible scenario!

ashido- rollerskating! ((look at her she’s adorable the smile n the eyes aaa))

↠mina is a very energetic and bubbly person, its quite obvious if you’ve spent any amount of time around her

↠for your first date with her, she’d already have a location in mind!!

↠the atmosphere of rollerskating rinks is so electric, she can’t help but feel happy there, and she wants to experience that lovely feeling with you, too :))

↠you enter the rink, and mina is already borderline bouncing off the walls alskdfj

↠whether or not you’ve ever skated before, ashido is super cautious with you- multiple times she’s fallen on her butt while learning how to skate, so unless you’re a pro, she’s watching your every move to make sure you don’t get hurt

“y/n! please be careful- you’re not getting hurt on my watch!”

↠she jabs a thumb in her direction proudly, with the cutest bigass grin on her face awh 🥺🥺🥺she’s really enthusiastic about sharing one of her passions with you

“try to balance, alright? don’t put too much weight on your heel or toes, because then you’ll fall on your butt. here, take my hand and i’ll help you! hey, there you go, you’re doing great!”

↠she pays for everything and will WRESTLE you if you try to disagree aldkfa if you’re the type of person to pay for everything as well, y’all are going to have to fight; mina will not give up

↠ashido comes here a lot, so she’s friendly with all the employees, she has the uncanny ability to make friends wherever she goes ((i mean she’s friends with bakugou,, if she can do that,, she can do anything))

↠she takes one of your hands and backs onto the rink, watching for anyone behind her. once you’re balanced properly, she shows you how to move your feet so that the two of you are in sync

↠skating isn’t super hard to figure out, it’s mostly intuitive, so you’ll get the hang of it quite quickly!! maybe you’re not too fast, but it’s still fun, so it doesn’t matter

↠while you’re moving with care, making sure to focus on your footwork, mina will definitely take the chance to show off her skating skills! she’s moving like crazy, weaving around other people and nearly toppling them over but shh she’s trying to impress you and if i’m being honest??? she’s really fucking good aldkdf 

↠it’s obvious that she loves this hobby, and the fact that she likes you enough to share it with you on your first date is so adorable aaaa

↠mina’s really agile- you don’t know if that’s all the hero training or just something that comes naturally, but the way she moves makes skating look like the easiest goddamn thing in the world-

↠she’s such a romantic, she’s definitely put in a request for the dj to play your favorite song, no matter if it fits the mood or not

↠heavy rock? sure!! as long as you’re having fun, who cares about what other people think? super vulgar rap?? w h y  n o t ? !

↠she just has that extroverted, positive, charming energy that’s infectious

↠you can’t help but feel at ease around her, she’s a genuinely a great person, and what you think the epitome of a hero is

↠all ashido really wants here is to have fun with you- i mean she really likes you, and hopes that she’ll get to go on another date w/ you, so she’s doing everything in her power to woo u

↠and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working 🥺👉👈

jirou- hanging out in her room

↠kyouka jirou, being the more introverted person she is, wouldn’t really want to go somewhere super public, like mina would

↠i also believe that she’d want to be friends (or at least acquaintances) with you before asking you on a date- she’s easily annoyed by people, so i think that she’d need to be comfortable around you if she was to be romantically interested 

↠and you’ve ticked all these boxes! you understand her sarcastic, blunt personality, and find it pretty amusing. beyond all that, she’s kind and caring, and deep down, she aspires to be a hero for all the right reasons. who wouldn’t love her for that?

↠so for your first date with kyouka, i think she’d want to be somewhere quiet and intimate with you. she wouldn’t want any interruptions ((specifically from jammingyay, who enjoys butting his head in other peoples’ business))

↠the most comfortable place for her would be her room, since it’s really just an extension of her personality, and since you’re quite close, she’d be okay with letting you in her private space. she trusts you.

↠just two guys bein dudes 🤠 ((if you’re a girl, it’s just sappho and her friend--))

↠music is one of the biggest things in jirou’s life, and i think she’d want to share it with you. that is, if you’d let her :)) she has dozens of different instruments, so if you want to attempt to learn something, she’d be totally down!! 

↠please show her what kind of music you’re into! no matter what it is, she’ll listen to it. she wants to get to know what kind of person you are when you’re not around other people, and music is a great way to do that. even if you don’t have the same taste as her, she wouldn’t mind, since a) she’ll listen to pretty much anything, she’s not picky; and b) it’s something that you’re showing her, and that’s enough to make her happy

↠she’s not a very formal person, so i think she’d just want to talk to you and hang out. i’d think kyouka would be more of a fan of a gradual relationship, one that starts from friends and slowly evolves into more. and yes, as you can probably tell, i am a sucker for mutual pining and friends-to-lovers tropes-- im a simple hoe 😌

↠she’s super fun to hang out with!! her sense of humor is really snarky, she also enjoys talking shit about people she doesn’t like. if you’re not into that, she’s able to carry on conversation really well. there’s not a moment of awkward silence between you

↠jirou actually really likes talking shit about people hsahsh- as long as it’s someone that’s been mean in some way. she won’t say anything bad about someone who hasn’t done anything to deserve it. but if you’ve wronged her in some way, boy, do you have it COMING

↠by the end of it, i just know your cheeks hurt from laughing 

↠she’s just a really fun person to be around, she may not be the most bubbly person ever, but she’s super easy-going and cool ((jirou bias incoming ekejke))

↠i do think she’d try to sneak some kind of affection if she thinks you’d reciprocate- if you’re really getting along well, she might snake her hand into yours when you’re sitting on the bed, laughing

↠honestly you might not even notice until she stops, because your hand feels empty and cold without her like your heart aa

↠if she’s really into you?? might get a smol peck on the cheek 👉👈 please try to get a smol peck on the cheek, it’s very cute and she gets so flustered

↠she goes up to you as you’re about to leave her room, grabs your shoulder, turns you around, and gives you an adorable if not slightly aggressive smooch

↠then she reFUSES to acknowledge what she just did akdfld- she turns away, beet red, and is completely silent

↠meanwhile you’re probably laughing your ass off because wow she’s so cute

↠kudos if you give one back to her, baby is on the verge of exploding ejkdjf 

↠her heart just can’t handle what you’re doing to her

↠and despite what her appearance is, her heart is doing backflips- she’s whipped <33

momo: tea and c u d d l e s

↠she’s a very fancy person, obviously. yaoyorozu wants only the best for everyone she loves, and that, of course, includes you! she loves showing affection through giving things to others. her family status only magnifies this aspect of her personality, as being born into wealth gives her the means to spoil you rotten

↠and even though she’s bougie as all hell, she also somehow maintains an elegant and simple air about her. it’s impressive, really. it’s not like she tries to flex her money, it’s just a part of her life, and she enjoys using her privilege well

↠that being said, what’s more elegant and mature than going for tea? it’s a lovely pastime that momo would love to include you in! 

↠lowkey,, she’s a whole sugar momma dfkdjla im not even joking- she doesn’t try to be, but virtually everything she does shows how rich she is

↠you arrive at the tea room, and by god is it fancy. there’s multiple chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which is decorated with classic renaissance-style paintings. all the tables are set with white cloth, plates made of pure fine china, flowers and woven baskets set everywhere to create a cottagecore-like setting. the air about it is so sophisticated, from the patrons (wait is that a celebrity-) to the decorations

↠your face is kinda just,,, 😮,, because what in the world did momo get you into??

“momo, you’re so sweet, and this place is lovely, but don’t you think this is a bit much? not that i don’t absolutely appreciate it, it’s just that this seems really expensive, and i don’t want you to have to spend that much for just one date.”

↠she just chuckles, saying that it was “really nothing” (???? MISS GIRL???)

“don’t worry, y/n, this isn’t too much! i want to have fun today, and this place is so nice! let’s just find a table, alright?”

↠like, hunney, you’re so kind, but this is a LOT

↠but if you say so....

↠she looks at you with the most enthusiastic, wholesome eyes, and soon you’re following her like a puppy towards your table. the waiter sits you down, and leaves, giving you a moment to glaze over the menu to find a drink

↠and there’s so many types of teas, at least 30 on this page alone. you hadn’t even heard of half of these drinks, how would you know if you’d like them?

↠yaomomo seemed to notice your puzzlement, and said that you could get a pot of something simple, like jasmine green or earl grey, and she would get something fancier that you could try. why not?

↠a few minutes later, you’ve already adjusted to the sophisticated and intimidating environment, focusing only on the girl across from you, and how her eyes glittered with happiness

↠she orders a few normal tea foods, like scones with jam, lemon curd, and devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. the fanciest thing she buys, though, is a blooming tea that arrives in a clear pot. it has an open flower inside of it, which is what the tea is infused with. it’s nearly 16,100 yen for one pot, though, and while you protest its expense, momo reassures you that it’s no problem (you just learned not to say anything about money, as it wouldn’t stop yaoyorozu from spoiling you)

↠ngl, it’s so fun to pretend to be fancy for a few hours at a tea room !! you acted as if you were a member of high society, using stereotypes to exaggerate your actions. it made some people only slightly irritated, but hey, it got a laugh out of a pretty girl, so who’s the real winner? 

↠yaomomo taught you some classy etiquette that you should definitely use, it makes her so happy to think that you’re learning about new things while still enjoying your time with her

↠she makes really good conversation!! her intellect seeps through everything she says, anyone who talks to her would be able to tell that she’s extremely well-spoken and mature. momo is modest, and deflects a lot of the compliments you try to give her, so if you try to display your admiration for her, you’d probably need to be very specific about it. she doesn’t have the best self-image when it comes to her heroism and field work. spoken affection sometimes doesn’t get through to her, but you know what does? physical affection!

↠she loves cuddles, and will regularly take you back to her house after a date to cuddle in her bed. her mattress is legendary, and it’s comfortable as hell. there’s an abundance of pillows and the bed isn’t too soft or too firm, and it’s always somehow an amazing temperature???? mattresses are investments, and this was definitely a good one

↠momo loves the intimacy and trust of holding you, it allows her to escape from overthinking and only focus on you, her beautiful partner. she doesn’t care if she’s the big or little spoon, but her favorite kind of cuddling is when you’re on your back and she’s curled into your side, head tucked under your chin and hand on your chest

↠she can do this for hours, please let her. she feels safe with you, confident, because you’re choosing to spend time with her in this quiet moment instead of being off somewhere else.

↠in conclusion,,, 💕women 💕

-denkineptune

[etherrreal]

“sweet on you”

Pairing: osamu x gn!reader Genre: fluff WC: 1,168 Summary: you’re on a mission to confess to osamu and you’re hoping that he’ll get the hint with some tasty homemade desserts Warning: there are like 2 puns that are the worst, im so sorry. A/N: sooo, this came out longer than intended lol hope you don’t mind that I can’t write a drabble! but this idea just inspired me to much that I couldn’t help myself! -Luna

Mission "Confess-to-Osamu" began the day after the Inarizaki volleyball team won an intense game, the final set ending in a 32-30 win.

You had to stay up all night to do it, but you managed to make and decorate a dozen cookies shaped like volleyballs and one special cookie that resembled his jersey, the number 11 written carefully in chocolate-flavored icing. You wrapped them up in a cellophane bag, complete with a black ribbon tied into a neat bow.

You arrived at homeroom as early as possible, wanting to place the cookies on his desk and sit down to calm your nervous heart. From the back of the room, you watched as he strolled in 20 minutes later, sending you a wave and a tired smile. He dumped his bag on the floor before picking up the note you tucked under the bag of cookies that read:

'congratulations on your win! you played an amazing game, wish I could've celebrated with you :)'

His eyebrows scrunched as he racked his brain to try to figure out whose handwriting it could be. He shrugged when nothing came to mind, figuring it was just another gift from one of those fangirls who frequented his team’s volleyball matches. At the very least, it gave him something to rub in Atsumu’s face later.

He sat down, munching on one of the volleyball-shaped cookies, which he found delicious enough to eat two more of. You slapped your forehead, more annoyed at yourself rather than Osamu.

Okay, time to try something else.

You made a single-serve raspberry tart this time after you heard Osamu mention to his friends one day that he had a strong craving for one. Again, you arrived early to school, placing the note face down under the treat and spoon so none of your nosy classmates could read it as they walked by.

This time, you made sure to sign your initials at the end of the note, figuring that was the reason why it didn't click for him last time. However, knowing that he would immediately figure out that it was you had your palms sweaty and knees weak.

Osamu walked into homeroom, barely awake, but when he saw the dessert on his desk, his eyes shot open, face lighting up with interest. He looked up to greet you, but you were busy staring blankly at your textbook. The cookies from last time had been devoured before he even left school, though he did save the jersey cookie because he appreciated the effort put into it.

He lifted the tart to grab the note that was stuck underneath. It read:

'hope you liked the cookies from last time! I made a raspberry tart because you're just so sweet ♥'

When you peeked over to look at him, you noticed that there was confusion written all over his face, not knowing what the hell the letters at the bottom stood for. You heard him repeating word combinations that began with your initials to try to figure it out.

Your forehead hit the desk, baffled by how a man could be so cute but so stupid.

This was going to be it. You would place the slice of apple pie on his desk, he would read the note–with your whole name on it this time–and he would finally understand how much you liked him.

So, you went through the same process as before, setting it neatly on his desk with a folded note underneath.  There was no way that he could misconstrue anything this time.

Osamu was suspicious when he saw the sweet treat on his desk that morning. He reached for the note first, like always, to examine it.

'I hope you're not occu-pied this weekend ; want to go on a date with me?'

He knew that you would never be so blatant with your confession, not with your shy nature. Not when all it took was a simple wave from him to make you blush and look away. You'd most likely approach him in a less public setting to ask him out, or text him privately.

Which is why he assumed that this entire thing was just his brother pranking him with some store-bought pie. ‘Tsumu had teased him recently when he’d gushed about how cute you were before. He didn't put it past his brother to mess with him just because he kicked his ass in practice yesterday.

He sat down at his desk with a loud 'humph,' angrily digging into his pie that tasted just as good as the rest of his desserts he had received before.

Meanwhile, you were so frustrated that you swore you felt your soul leave your body.

You'd had enough. The stress of leaving Osamu desserts and waiting for him to figure out how much you liked him was too much. You were just going to have to be blunt and in his face with your confession.

Storming into class with a packaged cupcake in hand, you stopped right in front of his desk. He was taken aback by your sudden appearance.

"Oh, hey, (Y/N)," he greeted. "That's a good lookin' cupcake ya got there. Who's it for?"

You froze. You knew your newfound confidence could only last so long. Actually standing in front of his desk and looking into his eyes was very different from staring at yourself in the mirror as you rehearsed your lines.

Osamu watched as your mouth flapped open and closed, thinking about how you resembled a goldfish at that moment. Suddenly, you shoved the cupcake towards him, looking away shyly.

He barely heard you squeak out the words, "I like you."

He had never felt more stupid than he did in that moment. It finally dawned on him that it had been you the whole time, leaving him the edible gifts and little notes. It actually was your attempt at asking him out.

Osamu gently took the plastic container out of your hands, fingers brushing against yours. "I can't believe it was actually you. Thought it was my stupid brother prankin' me."

You failed to make eye contact with him despite chuckling at his assumption, instead toying with the buttons of your blazer.

They’re so adorable. He had to put you out of your misery. "Do ya still wanna go on that date with me? It's the least I can do for all the trouble I caused. Maybe I can cook for you this time?"

You nodded in response, feeling like you were going to combust at any moment.

"Great! We can walk home together, and I'll whip ya up something good to eat."

"Sounds good," you said once you found your voice. 

Your cheeks were no doubt on fire as you sat at your desk. You assumed that at any moment, you'd be waking up from this wonderful dream. There was no way you could predict that he'd reciprocate your feelings but now that you knew, you didn't think you'd ever stop smiling.

Written by: Luna

[moonlitmeeks]

𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 - 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐤

pairing; nina zenik x gn!reader

summary; you and nina try your hand at some spooky baking

warnings; food mentions

a/n; you'd never be able to tell im a baker from this i swear- also this is not proofread!! apologies if it seems a little ooc, hope you enjoy!! <33

“nina, love, i’m not too sure this is right.”

“trust me darling, i know what i’m doing.” nina murmured, wiping a smudge of icing from her face with the back of her hand, the pale mixture standing out beautifully against her rosy cheeks.

it smudged across her cheekbone stubbornly and you bit back a smile, properly wiping it away with a stray tea towel as she earnestly whisked together the ingredients.

your countless attempts of encouraging nina to slow down had been ignored, her vigorous mixing actually ensuring more icing ended up on the kitchen counter than in the bowl, but her eagerness was too cute to crush.

a broad smile was encased by her forever plush lips, whilst her face was flushed from the exertion and her hair was messily swept back; happiness was made for nina zenik.

halloween was slowly approaching. so it only seemed right to try your hand at baking some spooky treats to satisfy your girlfriend’s sweet tooth. it was supposed to be quick and easy, a simple afternoon of fun.

supposed to be.

the kitchen was nothing short of a chaotic mess, dishes overflowing in the sink and grainy puddles of sugar in trails surrounded you both. it would take a while to clean up, that was certain.

your attention was currently focused on a batch of vanilla cupcakes: simple yet delicious and fun to decorate in whichever way your hearts desired. the recipe book had assured you it was a perfect starting recipe for beginners, but judging by the mess you both had created, it may have slightly overestimated the level of talent the pair of you possessed.

nina scooped a generous amount of icing onto her forefinger and held it out to you with a raised eyebrow. pressing your finger to hers, you took a bit of the frosting and tasted it, allowuing the flavour to process for a moment.

god, did it taste amazing.

“saints nina, that’s heavenly.”

she beamed at your praise, allowing herself a taste before nodding in agreement.

“i am good, aren’t i?” she joked, placing the bowl onto the counter to think over her next move.

you floated around her, setting up bowls, food colouring, and piping bags so you could properly decorate your cakes and turn them into the masterpieces they were destined to be.

seconds later, bowls of deep green and orange shades sat before you, open and inviting you to use them in any way you wished to create your vision. this was definitely a pretentious and pompous way to put it, you realised, when you voiced this aloud to nina. yet, she was all too in love with the idea of splendour, and took on the tortured artist role perfectly.

all your attention was on the cupcakes in front of you. carefully, you piped on swirls of the frosting, sprinkling with some edible glitter and other decorations you had managed to get your hands on. nina hummed to herself as she worked, and you couldn’t help but join in with her, your vopices growing louder as the minutes passed.

“for saint’s sake!” jesper exclaimed, walking into the kitchen. “i love you both, but can you two keep it down?”

his eyes locked onto the cakes.

“cupcakes! they look good- ow!”

with his features contorted in betrayal, jesper nursed his hand to his chest, cradling it gently. nina simply shrugged, showing no remorse for smacking his hands away from your desserts.

“hands off jes, they’re ours.”

this isn't one of my favourite pieces ever, but i still thought it was quite cute, so i hope you do too!! reblogs/feedback is much appreciated <3

nina zenik taglist; @wlfstxr @cozyballofanxiety @lxncelot @ms-heartbreak-queen

halloween horrors masterlist !

six of crows masterlist !

[cluster-fandom]

Not the day for this

Atsumu, Oikawa, and Noya prank their S/O on a bad day

Warnings: Swearing, food/eating || hospital mention, knife mention, stitches mention, and getting a cut in Noya’s (nothing descriptive just the words themselves)

A/N: This is my first time writing for multiple characters! I enjoyed this a lot 

I was heavily inspired by @kybabi​ !! Go check them out if you haven’t before :)

Atsumu

• Today was not your day at all

• You had failed a test and got in an argument with your best friend

• So all you really wanted to do was come home to your boyfriend and relax

• Unfortunately Atsumu was not aware of how your day had been going

• You both liked to poke fun at each other and this time Atsumu had planned what he thought was an amazing prank

• He couldn’t wait for you to get home

You were driving home from university to your shared apartment with Atsumu. Between the frustration of scoring low a test you had studied so hard for and getting into a dumb fight with one of your best friends, you were ready to snap. The heat didn’t help anything either. At the very least you got to come home to Atsumu. The thought of being wrapped up in your boyfriends arms had kept you from lashing out at anyone that came in contact with you.

You two had been together for over a year and while he could be insufferable at times, you adored him. He was always making you laugh through his ridiculousness, and you were the same. But your favorite memories were when he looked at you with that lopsided grin and said that he loved you.

As you walked up to your front door you noticed it was slightly open.

‘Did Atsumu forget to close the door?’ You briefly wonder before going inside where it was cool.

“Ats-OH MY GOD!”

You were drenched in ice water and the bucket that had been sitting on the door clanked to the floor.

“HEY BABE I THOUGHT YOU COULD USE SOME COOLING OFF!” Atsumu grinned, finding his prank hilarious.

“FUCKING HELL ATSUMU THIS WAS NOT WHAT I NEEDED TODAY!” You yell as you shake your arms of water.

You shove past him towards the bathroom where you could get a towel and hairdryer.

“Wait wait wait! It was just a joke I’m sorry!” He’s fumbling over his words in confusion.

He follows you into the bathroom where you were shoving things out of the way to get your hairdryer out of the cabinet.

“Babe- I’m sorry I didn’t know you’d be mad!” He whines.

You ignore him as you try to (unsuccessfully) untangle the cord of your hairdryer.

“God-dammit-“ you mumble as you only end up getting it more tangled.

“Do you want me to hel-“

“NO ATSUMU IVE GOT IT!” You snap at him.

“Why are you so mad?” He’s genuinely confused. You’ve never been this mad at a prank before?? And this wasn’t even the worst one he’s done-

“I DONT KNOW MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM DRENCHED AND FREEZING FUCKING COLD? JUST- LEAVE ME ALONE RIGHT NOW!” You’re just done with everything and Atsumu can clearly tell he’s not making anything better at the moment so he retreats to the living room.

After you’ve dried your hair and changed into some dry clothes you went to you and Atsumu’s shared bedroom.

You were scrolling on your phone when there was a knock at the door.

Atsumu cautiously stepped into the room.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

You sighed and set your phone aside.

When you nodded, Atsumu sat on the bed in front of you.

“I’m sorry I upset you. The prank wasn’t funny,” he looked at you with guilty eyes.

“I’m not mad about the prank. I’ve just had a really bad day and it all piled up and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m sorry.”

You explained the events of your day and how you had wanted some quality time with him, and instead you had gotten an ice bath.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I never wanted to make you feel so bad. Let me make it up to you?” He pleaded. He gave you his biggest puppy dog eyes. (🥺)

Your heart melted and of course you said yes.

He perked up immediately, rushing out of the room. He came back with an armful of snacks and settled in next to you. He switched on your favorite movie and pulled you onto his lap.

“I love you so, so much baby,” he whispered into your hair. He leaned down to press a kiss into your cheek.

“And I love you,” you whispered back.

Oikawa

• You knew that with dating Oikawa, people would be jealous

• But his fangirls could get really bad sometimes

• Today they had been following you around saying how you weren’t pretty enough, smart enough for him

• It had gotten to you a little bit

• So you were ready to be home with your boyfriend away from others eyes

• Oikawa had no clue of this though and had devised, in his mind, a brilliant prank to get a rise out of you once you got home

You were finally home to your apartment with Oikawa. He had been on his phone when you walked in and greeted you with his signature grin. After a tight hug, he said he needed to go grab something in the bedroom.

You settled down on the couch letting your body relax on the plush cushions.

*bzzt bzzt*

You looked to see that Oikawa had left his phone behind. You were about to go back to resting, until you registered the name of the sender.

You bolted upright and grabbed the phone, hoping you had read it wrong.

#1 Fangirl 😉

You and Oikawa had been together for a year and you trusted him with your entire being. But seeing that name made fear pool in your stomach.

You didn’t dare to unlock his phone, despite knowing his password, for fear of what you might find.

Your thoughts were running a mile a minute as you entered your bedroom where Oikawa was in the closet.

Was there someone else? He wouldn’t do that to you right? He seemed so happy with you. He had never said he wasn’t satisfied with anything at all. Nothing had changed recently, so was something going on the whole time? Were his fangirls right?

That last question scared you the most.

“Love?” You called out.

Oikawa had a devilish smirk on his face. He knew that you would have seen the texts by now. He had come up with the prank a few days ago and was excited for you to get smart with him and call out the obvious.

“Yes?” He called back, not looking to you.

“Who’s number one fangirl?” You said, voice shaking. You didn’t know when your vision had started going blurry.

At the sound of your shaky voice, your boyfriend whipped around, eyes wide.

“Oh Angel, it’s nobody, it was all a prank I swear,” he pulled you to his chest, “I asked Iwa-Chan to help me, that’s who’s actually sending the texts.”

“S-so you’re not cheating on me?” You hiccup slightly and Oikawa’s heart aches he wipes away a stray tear. He mentally slaps himself for making you insecure.

“Never. I would never leave you for some other girl who just wants me for my looks. You love me for who I am and I am so, so grateful to have you,” he holds you tighter to him.

Once you’ve collected yourself, you tell him about all the things that had been said to you and how it had made you doubt if you were good enough for him. He quietly listened to you talk, holding you the entire time until you were finished.

He gently lifted your face up to meet his eyes. You noticed how his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed in a thin line.

“Y/N. I am so sorry that those people made you feel unworthy. I promise, you are more than I could have ever asked for. They won’t bother you again ok?” His voice was low, but still as gentle as ever. His eyes softened as he looked at you. He let his muscles relax and gave you a small smile.

Your heart felt full as you nodded.

“Okay, now why don’t we go to the couch and cuddle for a while. Let me show you how much I love you,” he gave your forehead a light kiss.

You smiled up at him.

“I love you Tōru.”

“I love you more, Angel.”

Nishinoya

• You were one inconvenience away from exploding

• You worked the customer service center at your malls department store (it hadn’t been your first choice but you needed money) and you had already had to deal with two Karens this morning

• The second one actually made your manager come down, who wasn’t happy about that

• So now you were at risk of losing your job

• Thankfully though you finally got to go on your lunch break

• You were excited because your boyfriend had time to spend it with you today

• You needed the pick me up and Noya’s naturally energetic personality never failed to do so

• Unfortunately, Nishinoya decided that today was the perfect day to execute his genius prank

You growled in annoyance as your keys got momentarily stuck in the lock to your apartment.

You had been yelled at three times today already. By two entitled middle aged women who wouldn’t listen to you no matter how many times you gave an explanation to them, and then by your manager who told you off for making him get involved with your “nonsense.”

You had been hanging on to your last shred of self control to not start screaming at your boss.

But you were home now and were more than ready to have a nice lunch with your boyfriend.

“Y/N! YOU’RE HOME!” You stumbled back as you were tackled in a hug.

“I made you lunch!” Noya grinned as he released you from his hold.

You giggled as he grabbed your hand to lead you to the kitchen.

Now, you loved Noya, but his cooking was, well, not edible sometimes. But he seemed to have gone pretty safe this time around.

There were two bowls of ramen with bread rolls on the side.

“Looks like someone was busy,” you tease. He rolls his eyes and motions for you to eat.

You were listening to Noya talk about his morning while you ate.

“And then I-“

“AH! HOT! HOT! HOT!” You were panting. The noodles were spicier than you could handle. You took a bite of the bread and nearly puked.

“Is- IS THAT MAYONNAISE?!?” You cough trying to get the awful tastes out your mouth. You rush to the fridge and down a glass of milk.

“Yū what the fuck?!” You say after catching your breath.

“What? I thought you said you wanted to expand your palette,” he’s wearing a smug grin.

You huff and get your things together to leave.

“Wait- don’t go!” He’s scrambling to catch up to you.

“I can’t do this today. I’ll see you after my shift,” you slam the door behind you as you leave.

You picked up a quick meal from the food court and find an empty table to eat at.

You had turned your phone off, not wanting to hear your notifications go off. The rest of your shift was uneventful thankfully, but you were still beyond irritated.

It was twenty minutes until the end of your shift when you turn your phone back on. You had about a dozen texts from Yū, which you were expecting, but you had a missed call from Tanaka from five minutes ago.

Confused, you called back.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Uh, so you see, Noya he- well he was trying to make something up to you? Anyways, he called me over to your place and I was helping him cook and he may have accidentally, umm, cut his finger pretty bad.”

“What?! Tanaka where are you right now?” You were already gathering your things and writing a note to your boss explaining your leave.

“The hospital,” he replied.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you rushed to your car.

You may have been driving way a little past the speed limit, but you were at the hospital in record time.

Thanks to the lady at the front desk, you found Yū quickly. You thanked Tanaka as he left the room, not wanting to stand around awkwardly.

“Yū! Are you okay? What were you even doing with a knife! Here let me see,” you grabbed his hand and looked it over.

His pointer and middle finger had been wrapped up in bandages, but the rest of his hand looked fine.

“They didn’t need stitches,” he said bashfully.

“Hmph you’re lucky,” you mumbled, “but why would you need to use a knife?” You searched his face. He looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I was trying to make you a nice dinner. I wanted to make it up to you for lunch,” he was uncharacteristically quiet.

You gently turned his face towards you, giving him a quick kiss. His face turned bright red and he sputtered incoherently for a minute.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was having a pretty bad morning and getting my tongue burnt off didn’t help. You’re still an amazing boyfriend though and I still love you,” you intertwined your hands with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled and leaned to touch his forehead to yours

“Does that mean we can have spicy ramen for dinner then?” He asked.

“Don’t push it.”

I hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is highly appreciated!

*I do not own Haikyuu!! or the characters only the story*

*Do not repost anywhere, all credits to me*