#Why is there a dome around the notes and shit now

[wizardgame100]

Haven't seen you post in a while. Hope you're doing good

D'aw t'ank ya Anon ✨

I've been pretty dead online as a whole due to actually trying to adult and such

Adulting is hard and tiring <- This user's back just crunched so loud

But I'm here! I may not post much, but I missed you guys

[laferocia]

Mike Patton and the "piadina gate"

CHAPTER 1: THE WAR.

Bologna, 2004.

Mike is in Bologna with the Fantomas. Bologna is located in Emilia Romagna, and one of the typical foods of the region is called Piadina (or piada, colloquially). It's a kind of flatbread filled with cheese and cold cuts (but not only that) and is also sold as street food because it's easy to carry. There was probably a piadina truck around there somewhere.

Min 0:11: Oh! Mi può portare una piadina con la salsiccia? Per favore? Adesso, qua! Mi senti? Oh! Can you bring me a piadina with sausage? Please? Right now, here! Can you hear me?

*dal pubblico: ragazzo 1: una birra! Ragazzo 2: Sei un grande!* *From the audience: Guy 1: a beer! Guy 2: You're awesome!*

Mike: Ok una piada normale, non importa, e una birretta. Okay, just a regular piadina, no problem, and a little beer (Probably the piadina truck didn't have sausage, and they only had the classic piadina with squaquerone cheese and prosciutto di Parma)

*dal pubblico: una birra! Un litro!* *From the audience: a beer! One liter!*

Mike: Ma che buongustai! What gourmets! (LOL I can't get why he said that)

Min 0:47: Siete stronzi! Sì voi, in bianco! Sto parlando a voi! You guys are jerks! Yes, you in white! I'm talking to you! (I'll digress on the term 'Stronzo': in Italian, it literally means 'piece of shit,' but it's less harsh. It's still an insult, make no mistake. However, one of our characteristics is that we have a rich vocabulary of insults and vulgarity, and we insult each other most of the time, so Mike fits right in, LOL).

CHAPTER 2: THE PEACE.

min 0:10: Bella Bologna!: Mike is off to a great start with typical Italian expressions. "Bella" is a kind of greeting, it was widely used by Italian rappers and roughly means "everything's good, all good." It's not directly translatable, as in Italian, "bella" means "beautiful."

Forsa ragassi!: This guy is a true legend. "Forza ragazzi" means "come on, be brave!" but it's an exhortation that we use in a thousand situations. Mike pronounces the 's' and 'z' in the typical Emilian and Romagnol way, as if they were all sibilant 's' sounds. It's something that only a native speaker would be able to do and perceive because it exists only in spoken Italian.

min 0:39: una bella piadina romagnola piena di merda! A lovely Romagnola piadina filled with shit!

min 0:50: È vero che voi chiamate Bologna "la grassa"?: Is it true that you guys call Bologna "the fat one"? ("Bologna the Fat" due to its delicious and hearty cuisine. In Italy, we have nicknames for some of the major cities. Rome is "the Eternal City," Naples is "the City of 500 Domes," and so on. Bologna boasts at least two more nicknames: "the Learned one" (because the first European university was founded here in 1088) and "the Red one" (for its red roofs and walls and, later on, for its political tradition closely aligned with the left).

min 0:56: Allora siete tutti ciccioni? So, are you all chubby? (The crowd of spectators said in unison "yes")

min 1:02: E infatti pensavo così, eh, perché ho visto un ciccionissimo di "Turisti per caso", aquì. E poi c'è Maurizio Costanzo là. And, in fact, I was thinking that way, you know, because I saw a really chubby guy from "Turisti per caso" here. And then there's Maurizio Costanzo over there. (Many years ago, there was a TV show called "Turisti per caso," hosted by a husband and wife. He, Patrizio Roversi, was indeed a bit on the heavier side. However, it's worth noting that Mike might sometimes mix up gender, so he could have been referring to her, Syusy Blady, who was also a bit on the heavier side at that time. Maurizio Costanzo was an important and famous Italian journalist who was known also for being overweight. However, I must clarify that Costanzo probably wasn't really at the concert LOL. BTW, Mike said "aquì" and it's spanish, in italian is "qui").

min 03:12: The piadina vendor gets on stage and brings Mike a piadina and beer.

min 04:10: Grazie di nuovo, ci vediamo alla prossima! Stamme bene, ciao! Thank you again, see you next time, take care, bye! ("Stamme bene" is indeed in Roman dialect. Who knows, maybe he was already close to ZU band, LOL. To make it grammatically correct it should be "Statemi bene" cos "stammi" is singular).

Mike and the piadina vendor hug each other.

[plasma-veracity]

[ Video starts with Veracity immediately on frame, information embedded on the video itself showing that this was the latest of over 50 entries.

There's some shuffling of documents behind the camera and Veracity immediately scowls. The place of the session seems to be different as well, instead of the inside of the dome they seem to be in an outdoor area, although it is still surrounded by a wall with gaps too narrow for Veracity to be able to escape through.

"Very well, Veracity. I hope that you have been feeling better since last time."

Veracity rolls his eyes, petting the nearby tauros instead of responding.

"I've heard that you have been helping around with some chores and activities, and I see that you also have a new friend now."

The other person says, making Veracity scoff.

"More like he snuck into my place without permission and is now living on it rent free." he says, although he doesn't say it with the usual venom in his voice.

"I see. Apologies for the inconvenience, we still haven't found the reason as to why they ended up here."

"Of course not, like you didn't find the reason as to why I get teleported to the middle of nowhere."

"Yes. I can see how that can become annoying." the sound of writting can be picked up from behind the camera. "But we should leave that to the investigators. Now, is there something that you want to share with me?"

"Well gee, I don't know. Is there, Doctor Chamomile?"

Mindhealer Chamomile sighs, but recovers quickly seeminly already used to Veracity's foul mood. "You are very difficult to deal with, you know? Then again, I could simply skim through that little blog of yours and pull my own conclusions from there."

Veracity glares at him and sits straighter, crossing his arms.

"Very well, do it then." he challenges.

Chamomile writes something and hums in thought.

"You have posted a couple of times about Halloween, lately." says Chamomile, making Vera quirk up an eyebrow. "It seems like you dislike it a lot. Anytime anyone asked you about it you would say something among the line of 'it is stupid' or 'it is a lame holiday' and something similar, except for one instance."

Chamomile stayed silent, prompting Veracity to speak up this time.

"And?"

"You said— and probably don't remember it —'I want a normal chocolate cake with a normal candle to make a stupid wish on', fun choice of words too." Says Chamomile.

Veracity stays silent for a while, furrowing his eyebrows and avoiding eye contact. Eventually he sighs.

"... I'm not. Entirely sure if it's true or not...." he says, frustration clear in his voice.

"Mhm, I expected as much," notes Chamomile. "Can you tell what triggered that response? A word you read? The tone in which you perceived it?"

Veracity at first ignores the question, but his expression changes from annoyance to concentration as he seems to ponder on it.

"... Not sure. Maybe... No. It's stupid."

"I'd still like to hear it," Mindhealer Chamomile says, trying to be encouraging. "If you want to share, that is."

Veracity sighs, shifting on his seat.

"... Maybe... when someone mentioned ghosts." he says.

Mindhealer Chamomile can be heard writting something down. "What is it about ghosts that troubles you?"

Vera blows a raspberry, sinking back into his heat and looking somewhere to the side, mostly avoiding eye contact.

"I dunno. They're creepy, they stalk. You can't shoot them or throw a punch at them. Several can just fucking hijack your body and/or mind. The pokemon devil is a ghost type. People letting the little basttards misbehave because it's funny or they're pranksters or they're harmless and similar dumb shit. Maybe none of these. Maybe all of them."

He ends that little rant and sighs, massaging his temple. "I just don't like them."

Chamomile makes a humming sound. "Have you been having headaches?"

Veracity groans "Yeah, sort of."

"Has your medicine ran out?"

"Normal medicine won't help." he says "This is... something else."

"Something else?" Chamomile asks, now sounding intrigued. "Can you elaborate on it?"

Vera shakes his head. "I can't remember. It's like... Something was taken out, and was hastily replaced with something else. Something less elaborate. Something important? I can't recall, I mean— I'm not supossed to recall what it was. But I am meant to know that something was tampered with but I cannot for the life of me remember why. Everyone in this dimension would just get a vague feeling of something being off but I don't—"

"Sorry sorry." Chamomile interrupts him mid sentence. "Did you just say— dimension?"

The question visibly catches Veracity off. He blinks twice and his eyes lose focus as his hand slowly covers his mouth.

"Am I from a different dimension?"

He quietly mutters. More hasty writting can be heard in the background and the camera is grabbed by Chamomile, losing focus on Vera.

"I think— This is enough for today."

The video cuts as he starts to say someething else, missing it entirely. ]

[dream-beyond-the-fantasy]

Prompt-oween Day 26

@occreatorexchange

Prompt: Your OC gets lost on a walk in the woods, has a few scares, and is rescued by their partner or a friend.

Fandom: The Sarah Jane Adventures/Doctor Who

Characters: OC Molly Yates, Luke Smith, Clyde Langer, Sarah Jane Smith, Maria Jackson, minor appearance by Kaagh

Rating: T

Word Count: 1353

Notes: This will end up being five scenes in my adaptation of "The Last Sontaran" from Series 2 of The Sarah Jane Adventures when I get around to writing more of The Molly Yates Chronicles.

Tagging @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @cecexwrites @themaradwrites @arrthurpendragon

After hearing about Alan’s job offer and that Maria might move, Molly ran out of the building.  It hurt too much.  She’s already been left by her mother.  She couldn’t bear the thought of being left behind by her best friend.

Molly wipes away her tears.  “I know I’m being selfish,” she admits to herself.  She wants what is best for Alan and Maria.  She does.  But that lonely girl who hates change threatens to lash out.  Just like when Dad moved them to London.  Molly can also admit that a part of her is jealous that the Jacksons are going to be living in America and see Washington DC.  She had never seen her nation’s capital because it was on the other side of the country.  Unless one counts flying over it.

She needs to focus on finding Luke and Clyde.  And Professor Skinner, of course.  Right now, she doesn’t care about Sarah Jane’s warning about the woods.  Anything to get her mind off the possibility of her best friend leaving.

***

Molly finds the boys.  It was hard not to with all the noise they were making, sticks snapping under their feet and Clyde’s mouth.

“I hate woods.  The city is civilization.  This is The Land That Time Forgot.”   

“Good, I found you.”

They jump.  “What are you doing here?” Clyde asks.

Molly shrugs.  “Wanted to help.  Lucy’s asleep, so not much to do in there.”  She doesn’t want to tell them the real reason.  It’s not her place.  And it would make it more real.

They buy it.  Luke begins to speak.  “So, why didn’t we just stay on the edge, like you said?”

“Because Clyde is known for his honesty,” Molly snarks, rolling her eyes.  “I mean, Luke, it’s like you said.  Clyde wants to be Lucy’s hero because he fancies her.”

Clyde narrows his eyes.  He’s about to protest when they hear the snap of a twig.  As all three of them were standing still, they knew it wasn’t one of them.  They glance around.

“What was that?” Clyde asks.

“Maybe it was Professor Skinner,” Luke suggests.

Molly isn’t so sure.

“I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end,” admits Clyde.

You’re not the only one, Molly thinks.

“It’s strange.  So can I,” Luke concurs.

“It’s not strange, Luke,” Molly tells him.  “It’s a completely normal reaction.  We’re aware that we’re being watched and possibly in danger.”  Her eyes scan the woods, looking for anything out of place.

“Well, I’m one hundred percent creeped out to the max,” Clyde tells them.

“Or it could be the result of an electrostatic field,” Luke reasons.  “There’s something here, guys.  Right here.”

A chill goes down Molly’s spine.  She whirls around.

“Where?”

Something lands a few feet in front of her with a loud thump, causing a cloud of dirt to fly into the air.  That’s when the boys turn.

“Guys, there it is.”

It’s not completely invisible.  Molly can make out a humanoid shape.

“Maybe it can’t see us.”

Molly holds back the urge to roll her eyes at Clyde.  “He’s staring at us, you idiot.”

As Clyde wonders why the invisible being hasn’t attacked them yet, Molly sees it tilt its head.

“It’s studying us.”

No shit, Luke, Molly mentally bites back.

Then the alien turns off its cloaking device.  It’s covered in blue armor with a dome-like helmet, that reminds Molly of Juggernaut from the X-Men comics.  He cocks his gun at them.

“We gonna run now?” Molly yells.

They run for their lives.

***

Molly trips over a downed tree, falling into a dip into the underbrush.  Luke stops to help her up.  Clyde looks behind them.  The alien is still in pursuit.  They can hear him coming.  Molly waves Luke off.  She’s bruised but fine.

We need to hide, she mouths.  Down here.

The trio scramble under the branches of dead trees.  They cover their mouths.  As scared and tired as they are, they know they need to keep quiet.  They can’t let him find them.  They watch as their alien pursuer ventures past them, going further into the woods.  Clyde sneaks out from their hiding spot.

Gone, he mouths.

Luke and Molly join him.  They try to head back the way they came.

***

After walking through the woods for a while, Luke speaks up.  “This is wrong.  We didn’t come this way.”

Molly didn’t know.  They had gotten so turned around just trying to stay alive.

Clyde spots a path.  “We follow that.  It’s bound to lead to the road.  Come on.”  Before he could take another step, Clyde slams into something.  He falls onto the ground.  “What was that?”

Luke feels the back of his neck.  “I can feel the hair on the back of my neck again.  There’s something here that’s cloaked.”

Molly looks at Luke.  “Could be his spaceship.”

Luke feels the air in front of him.  They see a shimmer.  Clyde stands up and feels around the same area.  As they touch the invisible wall, it ripples like the surface of water.

“Uh, maybe we should go find Sarah Jane now and tell her?” Molly points out.

Luke nods.  “You’re right.”  He takes out his phone.

***

As luck would have it, Clyde was right.  They made it to the road.  As the reception was a bit non-existent in the woods of Goblin’s Copse, Luke had to wait until they reached the road to call his mother.  Molly is exhausted.  The adrenaline has left her.  She finally feels the pain of the cuts, scrapes, and bruises she received while being chased.  She sits down by the side of the road, while the boys stay standing.

It wasn’t much longer before Sarah Jane’s car came roaring up to them.  The car screeches to a stop in front of them.  Molly can feel the anger pouring off Sarah Jane before she even gets out of the car.  It makes her stomach churn, much like those moments when she can feel how angry and disappointed her dad gets at her sometimes.  Clyde flinches as Sarah Jane slams the car door closed.

“I thought I told you two to stay out of the woods,” Sarah Jane barks at the boys.

“I know,” Luke says.  “But you didn’t really think we would.”

Clyde shoots him a look.  Molly closes her eyes.  Idiot.

Sarah Jane sighs.  “No, of course not.  That’s why I’m angry.  Angry at myself.”  Something about that statement didn’t ring quite true to Molly, but she didn’t have much time to ponder it.  Sarah Jane turns to her.  “And you, young lady, what were you thinking?  You left without a word to me or Maria.  You had us worried.  Then you go off in the woods with the boys.  I expected them to disobey me like that.  But you?”

Hot tears start forming in Molly’s eyes.  She couldn’t bear to look at Sarah Jane anymore.  The churning in her stomach got worse.   She tunes out as Sarah Jane asks the boys what they found.

Maria lags behind as Luke and Clyde start leading Sarah Jane into the woods.  She walks up to Molly, holding her hand out.  “Can I help you up?”

Molly just looks at her, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Maria can’t take it.  “Please, just talk to me.  I know this isn’t what we want.  I don’t want to leave either.  But I want what’s best for my dad.  Can’t you be excited for me?  Sarah Jane isn’t that angry with the boys.  She’s angry at me.  I can’t have you angry at me too!”

Molly wipes away her tears.  With her free hand, she takes Maria’s.  “I’m not angry at you.  I’m angry at the situation.  I understand wanting what makes your dad happy, even if it sucks for you.”

Maria gives her a small smile.  It’s a start.  She helps Molly up.  “Thank you.”

Molly pulls her to the woods.  “Thank me later.  Come on.  We’ve got to catch up with them.  There was an alien chasing us out here.  I think we found his ship.”

[thetavolution]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

Rebecca "Bex" McQuoid

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character?  (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act? She'd be in the Nautiloid crash region. Odds are Tav wouldn't see her on the ship. She would recognize Tav from the ship though. I should note that she's a Mephistopheles Tiefling Bard.

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav? She's a bard so of course they would. I think Wyll would be a good sport about it if you recruit him first. He'd probably be excited about someone being able to play some old song he longs to hear again. Lae'zel would consider her unnecessary. Shadowheart would be apathetic, but curious. Astarion would already decide she's probably going to be very annoying. (He's right.)

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions? Astarion: "Why are the murderous ones so hot? That's weird, right? Or am I the weird one? I mean... as long as he doesn't kill us, I don't mind him." Gale: "He is pretty charming. In a nerdy, will tell you everything about his special interest kind of way. I like that about him." Karlach: "Holy shit, she could crush my head with her thighs. I think I love her." Lae'zel: "I'd say maybe think twice on recruiting this one, but I realize I'm in no place to judge anybody here. But still... maybe watch out for her." Shadowheart: "Secretive, isn't she? But hey, she has every right to be. It's just very unnerving when you're relying on each other to survive." Wyll: "You sure he's not too good for us? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have him around. I just don't know if we're the kind of company he'd like to keep. Well, I should say me. I don't know I'm the company he'd like to keep." Minthara: "Ha! We seriously got the Murder Mommy on our side? I won't complain, but I will be keeping one eye open while I sleep." (You can only do the good route for her to stick around with Minthara.) Halsin: "Gods, did you see the size of him? I already feel safer with him around.... You think he's single? Put in a good word for me, eh?" Minsc: "There's not much going on in that dome, is there? He's awfully sweet though. And I love his little space hamster." Jaheira: "So, we're traveling with a legend now, eh? I've never heard of her, but I'm already impressed. We got one hell of a team here, don't we?"

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval? She acts irreverent, but she's drawn to good deeds. It won't be hard to get her approval. She also likes someone who has a good sense of humor. If you do something funny, she'll approve. I.E. Drawing on Vlaakith's face.

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions? She would leave if you kill the tieflings. She is one, after all. She's also got a good heart for all her bluster.

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed?  What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light? I have to keep this one a biiit quiet. I honestly think it would mirror her secret from @thebonnevillegame too closely. (Once season 1 is out of the show, I can reveal more.)

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes? Her side quest would involve some people from her past and some loose ends she has to tie up. It's hard to get into, but it would lead Tav into the dark underbelly of the city. Bex has a dark past they learn a little too much about. It can change Tav's opinion of her or they can believe she's trying to better her life.

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again? Stay: "You sure? You never know when you'll need some good old fashioned bardic inspiration." If you tell her yes, I'm sure: "Alright. I'll be here when you need me." Come: "It's showtime, folks!"

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight? Generally, she tries to avoid escalating conflicts, especially among her allies.

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game? There are some people from her past that you can run into. Some of them have a good rapport with her while others don't. The ones she has a bad relationship with can be particularly nasty to her. Bex takes their insults on the chin, but Tav is free to be more offended on her behalf. (It's up to the player.) Some of the other companions are more likely to be angry when she's slighted, especially if she's on good terms with everyone.

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)  Bex has a lot of stories from her strange life. She's been all over Faerûn and she's encountered a lot of people. Some stories are too spoiler heavy. There are plenty that are stories about "some guy" she knew one time though. I.E. She knew a guy who was almost killed by harpies. Wait, sorry, strike the maybe. He was killed by harpies.

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor? "You had the dream, too? Hm. I want to believe them. It'd be a lot easier knowing we could trust them. Let's keep our guard up though. Something feels off."

How do they advise the player character on Raphael? "I wouldn't trust a devil. Do what you want, but you better expect shit to go sideways if you make a deal with him."

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character? She would be concerned, but surprisingly okay with it. "As long as it all stays consensual, I don't have a problem with it. It's kinda hot in a weird way. Does that make me kind of fucked up to say?"

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them? "Whoa! I had no idea you were into this sort of thing. Not that I'm judging."

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power? "Full offense, but that was disgusting. How do you feel though? You're not feeling like you're about to sprout tentacles or anything, right? You look... normal."

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently? If you side with the goblins, she will leave and not come back.

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party? She'd be drinking and probably flirting with one of the other NPCs. She also flirts with the Tav.

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?  She's a little jealous if she has high approval, but she's not mean about it. Lae'zel: "Really? No offense to her! It's nothing against her or you. I just... didn't think she'd be interested. Have a good night, champ. Don't let her bruise you up too badly." Astarion: "I don't blame you for going for him. If he was interested in me, I'd be on him like government money on a bad idea." Shadowheart: "Oh. She's cute. Seems a bit prickly though. I didn't expect her to go for anybody. I'm pleasantly surprised on your behalf." You can also spend the night with Bex pretty early on.

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander? "What the Hells?! I have had you back since day one and this is how you thank me. Fuck me! (sighs) Gods, you're lucky you have those puppy dog eyes. Otherwise I might actually stay mad. You ass. Pull that shit again, you won't be so lucky though!"

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar? "Huh. You know, I knew a guy once that liked to eat spiders. This is feels kind of normal in comparison." When Tav licks it a second time. "Okay, now you're making it weird."

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown? When she first sees him, "Dribbles the Clown, huh? I knew a guy once who pretended to be a clown. Turned out he was just a run-of-the-mill serial killer. Who would have guessed, huh?" When Tav tells her to go up, "Ha! Good one... Wait, you seriously want me to go up there?" After Tav says Go on, Bex: "Oh, you bastard. You're going to enjoy this aren't you?"

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin?  How is Orin's deception revealed?  How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal? Yes, Orin would imitate her. She would let Bex have a mental breakdown involving something from her past, but it would be wildly out of character. It's hard to give specifics at this moment. When Bex is rescued, she'd probably simply say, "How do I keep ending up in situations like this? Thanks, I appreciate you saving my hide." She's a little too used to this kind of shit.

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn? Ascending: "This feels wrong.... I already miss old Astarion." Sparing Spawn: "I think we did the right thing. Or we just got a ton of people killed. It could go either way at this point. We'll see."

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer?  Can they offer to become one themselves?  Does their reaction change if they’re romanced?  She'd offer herself up based on how high her approval is. She's honest but accepting if Tav changes. "If it wasn't you under there, I'd be running for the hills. You somehow add some charm to it. No matter what you look like, it's still you." She wouldn't leave you if you became a mind flayer.

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them? "I'm glad you felt like you could confide in me. I'm scared out of my mind, don't get me wrong, but thank you for trusting me. I'm here for you, come hell or high water."

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira? "Gods... I get it. Bards are annoying, I should know, I am one. But I feel like there were other options than this!"

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2? She's one of the weirdly understanding ones. She'd help tie you and keep you company until you came back to your senses. "You think you're the first person to want me dead? (laughs) Listen, you can't get rid of me that easily. Whatever this is, we're getting through it together. Got it?"

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them? Yes, she is. There's nothing super special about romancing her. You just have to get high approval. She's one of the easier people to romance.

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough? She'd make a move if her approval is high enough. She also takes rejection well if you decide to move on from her.

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option? She's never been in a poly relationship before, but she's enthusiastic about trying it.

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party? Yes, you can sleep with her right off the bat at the party. You can also chose a more platonic/non-sexual option.

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take? In her case, I think there would be just one path.

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them? She's salty as hell, but respects it. She'll insult Lae'zel, Astarion, and Shadowheart if Tav picks them over her. She can't bring herself to insult Karlach, Gale, Wyll, or Halsin though. She tries, but ultimately gives up. Halsin is "too nice to hate... and too hot." Wyll is "a perfect prince charming" and she can't compete with that. And Karlach is just "awesome" so she gets it.

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test?  "Listen. Think. When is she most comfortable?" 1. In her tent 2. In the kitchen ★ 3. In her bedroom in Baldur's Gate 4. Out on the open road "Fear sits in the soul of all - to tame it, we must name it. Bex - what is her deepest fear?" 1. Decorative wine stoppers 2. Snakes 3. Running out of time ★ 4. Being trapped or confined ★ "Life is full of victory and loss. You cannot have one without the other. What is Bex's greatest failure?" 1. Losing so much of her life to stupid mistakes ★ 2. Getting captured by mind flayers 3. Not catching that serial killer clown

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin? She would never judge anyone for wanting that man. She'd just ask if you'll consider sharing next time.

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor?  Haarlep? She's less happy about Mizora and Haarlep due to their less trustworthy nature. It's less about being "cheated on" and more about "Really? Them?" The Emperor she has mixed feelings about. She's not happy about it though.

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no? She definitely would. Happily so.

What are Tav’s plans for the future?  Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in? She would be coy. She'd hope Tav would pop the question. She asks them to marry her in a more round-about "No, it's really you're idea" sort of way. She's too scared to be direct out of fear of rejection. If you outright reject her, she'll accept it, but obviously be near tears.

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au! I can't share some of what I want to because of spoilers. Some day I can say more! But not today.

[superiorjello]

So I just watched the first two episodes of "Midnight Museum"

It's a Thai Drama, kinda spooky, the first couple episodes are up on YouTube on the GMMTV channel for free so if you're curious, that's where it is.

My first reaction to the content is that this is YURGEN LEIGHTNER'S ASSISTANT: THE SHOW for any of you TMA fans out there. This dude Katha has a museum full of haunted shit. Enter Dome: freshly laid-off barista given an edgy bleeding-cowboys-esque font business card by the mysterious Katha. Now he gets to go work with ghosts or some shit!

...

Heres just my straight up reactions. SPOILERS NOW

...

Okay, this "orders coffee but doesn't drink the coffee" motherfucker is pulling some edgelord shit.

Dude! Why you gotta beat up an old man like that? EDGELORD DOESNT EVEN HELP? AND YOU'LL STILL TAKE THE JOB OFFER EVEN THOUGH THIS DUDE WOULDN'T HELP AN OLD MAN BEING BEATEN?

Okay sure, but he will beat up some thugs for Dome.

Now let's just drag you into the weird ass museum and not explain anything myself, the butler can do it.

IS THIS OTHER EMPLOYEE CHICK REAL? She says she's not a ghost but like... there are other options that are still spooky.

So can Dome like... hear haunted shit real good? Is he being specifically targeted for some reason? ...And now he's haunted by some fetal position slenderman-looking motherfucker, okay AND NOW EVERYTHING IS RED

YOU KNOW, THIS IS WHY WE DONT STORE ALL THE HAUNTED THINGS IN ONE PLACE

Not sure what was up with all that typewriter and wedding stuff but okay. Where did this woman come from? Unsure. Nice to meet you June-

Aaaaaand now coffee shop thug is back for more! THIS IS WHY WE DONT STORE ALL THE HAUNTED THINGS IN ONE PLACE, YURGENsorry KATHA.

Episode 2 time

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS HIS FAULT YOU WERE THERE WHEN HE DROPPED THE CARD AND YOU NEVER EXPLAINED ITS IMPORTANCE OF CHECKED HE STILL HAD IT

These thieves are so dumb.

I still don't trust this girl is just another employee.

Have I mentioned that the thieves are SO SO dumb?

I also love how the effects are just good enough to be fun to watch, just bad enough to not be scary.

DOME FOUND SLEEP PARALYSIS SLENDERMAN

And he just GOES BACK TO "not a ghost" GIRL AND ASKS FOR MORE HELP AND DOESNT ASK ABOUT SLEEP PARALYSIS SLENDERMAN AT ALL???

Love the way snakebite thief's face splits open. And his snek tongue. It's just great. No notes.

Katha and butler are just standing around humming and hawing over the lost shit. What great security there was for all this super haunted shit you had.

How long of a drive IS IT? DOME starts biking in daylight and it's NIGHT by the time he gets there.

Dome, seeing blood spatter: time to follow it with a phone light and NO WEAPON

no, we'll use the PHONE AS A WEAPON AND NOW HAVE NO LIGHT EITHER

WHY are you helping your old barista coworker? He's a dick.

All the haunted thieves look perfect really, no notes. Spider dude has EYES ON HIS CHEEKS

WHATS UP WITH SLEEP PARALYSIS SLENDERMAN???

Okay, Katha took a poisoned bite to the shoulder and a dagger to the gut for Dome. He's gained some points. But he's on THIN fucking ice.

WHY CAN DOME SEND THINGS TO THE SHADOW REALM? Are those people gone forever now? Will their families never even get a body? Will they be left guessing about their loved ones disappearance?Love those dark eyes tho.

So Katha is immortal so long as he's in the museum, huh? What was all that shit about not sacrificing himself for other people from the butler? It seems like he's the prime target FOR it.

I still wanna know what's up with the ghost girl. And also sleep paralysis slenderman.

[theculturedmarxist]

Having read the below article in Scientific American, I have to confess it actually addresses many good points. It drives home the facts that endlessly growing consumption (capitalism, essentially) is unsustainable and a declining human population would help solve many of our greatest challenges.

It also goes on to note that we (read: our leadership and ourselves) have to get our shit together on a number of fronts, including putting human rights square in the center of the overall solution of reducing population growth, consumption, etc.

But here’s the problem: our world is run by a bunch of greedy, thoughtless wealthy elites who don’t see us as human, who don’t give the slightest fuck about us. The politicians are just puppets they manipulate.

We keep asking things like why has COVID been allowed to run rampant? While many of us have surmised the answer – the mass culling of us proles – here we have it now laid out in a major publication, in Scientific America. The authors don’t point fingers, but I’m happy to do so.

COVID was a gift to the Davos crowd (the billionaires, essentially). They’re perfectly aware of how dangerous SARS-CoV-2 is, and they’re also perfectly aware of how transmission can be prevented. And even those who aren’t in the Davos league but are rich enough know better send their kids to Davos-safe schools (e.g., Ashish Jha and Rochelle Walensky).

But the oligarchs tell us – the proles, the worker bees, the expendables – through their bought and paid for politicians and media outlets that it’s just a cold, just the flu, nothing to worry about! Masks are bad. Vax and relax! Or don’t vax at all. It’s all good. You do you!

Just like from the movie “They Live,” our purpose in life is to breed, to work, to consume, to enrich the billionaire class, and maybe create a few more Davos scions who are seen as sufficiently morally bankrupt as to be worthy of elevation.

“But how long can mass disablement and death go on before even the Davos elite are impacted?”

Good question. I don’t have a specific answer, but let’s consider: there are currently around 3,000 billionaires (depending on which source you read) in the entire world who’ve amassed over $12 TRILLION in wealth. And remember, that’s only what those 3,000 or so individuals have in their pockets, it says nothing about additional assets – and power – they may directly or indirectly control, including politicians across the globe.

That 3,000 works out to about 0.0000375% of the world’s population; I figure it’s likely more like 100 to 500 families, as some of the billionaires are in the same family groups. Even if you added in the 56 million or so millionaires globally, that’s only 0.7% or so of the population. And let’s face it: in the eyes of the billionaires, the millionaires are just higher-ranked proles, nothing more. Even our wealthiest politicians are nothing more than boot-licking kapos to the billionaires.

So, do you think the billionaires and their families NEED anywhere close to 8 billion people to build their yachts, service and fly their private jets, or – when the climate becomes so extreme we proles are dying by the millions – to raise their atmosphere-controlled gilded domes and ivory towers? Of course not. Somehow, I’m sure they’ll have the “human resources” they require.

I doubt the super wealthy want to live in cages, though, even gilded ones. They must realize how the endless human growth and consumption that has made them wealthy beyond dreams is also poisoning their world (yes, to them it’s “their” world, not ours). Granted, some won’t give a damn and want to do the ultimate YOLO in their own lifetimes. Others, like Musk, think they’ll find salvation on Mars; I suspect he and his followers will be badly disappointed. Still others, I suspect, would like to salvage this planet. They don’t want to live in a shithole any more than we do.

To do so, however, billions of proles globally must die. Yes, billions. But this is a difficult problem to solve. While war could do it (and would make a LOT of money in the process), war is messy, has a great deal of uncertainty (you don’t want someone blowing up any of YOUR yachts or mansions!), and the only way to kill billions in a reasonable amount of time is the generous use of nuclear weapons, which are *really* messy.

Starvation can help, but typically works only on impoverished countries: most of the problems (e.g., climate catastrophe, pollution, etc.) beyond raw “surplus population,” as Scrooge might say, are actually created by the wealthy countries, and starvation isn’t going to work on them. The same with water: while some countries in the northern hemisphere (the rich) are going to suffer under the coming water shortages, they won’t suffer enough. A few million dying here or there simply won’t do.

What about…a plague? A pandemic? Hmm. Now that has some possibilities. We’ve had several major human depopulation events stemming from plagues in the past. You could argue that SARS-CoV-2 doesn’t have a high enough fatality rate to really “do the job” (and I’m not being glib as I write these awful things: I believe this is the cold calculus the Davos elite are using to compute our fates). That would be true, perhaps, if we only take into account deaths from acute infections – a few tens of millions in three years is hardly a dent, after all!

On the other hand, mass disablement leading to latent sudden death, infections by other pathogens due to compromised immune systems, premature death, the collapse of health care services leading to more deaths, plunging life expectancy among the proles…now we’re talking!

And yet, one set of problems remains: how to get people to embrace mass infection, disablement, and death when viral transmission can be broken fairly easily? If people were properly informed about the virus, the pandemic could be brought under control with a proper layered strategy enabled globally, which would cut the party short.

How to get past this conundrum?

That’s an easy one: lie to the proles! Terminate collection and distribution of the data showing what the virus is doing. Demonize or outright prohibit masking and other mitigations, along with the people promoting them or trying to get the proles to see the truth. Demonize vaccination for one demographic, and make it difficult to get vaccinated/boosted with vaccines that already do little to prevent infection, transmission, and long COVID for another. Have the billionaire-owned politicians and media outlets censor information about the pandemic except to say it’s over, COVID is no worse than a cold or the flu, vax and relax. Live your best life! YOLO!

This is what they’ve done, and on a global scale. SARS-CoV-2 may not be THE solution…but it could go a long wy. Consider where we’ll be in 10 or 20 years with multiple infections per year if we don’t globally try to stop it: hundreds of millions, and quite possibly billions, will die of the sequelae or other infections, if not from the acute infections themselves, or being left to die after being disabled, or “humanely euthanized.”

Even climate change: could that be intentional? The rich and shameless know it’s real and what’s causing it (us, primarily from using fossil fuels), but they’re doing nothing to change course. Why?

A workable theory is that they WANT it to happen, because it will likely kill hundreds of millions, perhaps billions, in a matter of decades. There will still be habitable, even nice, places left, and that’s where the billionaires will have us proles build their new ivory towers.

But what about supply chain disruptions? Grain and food shortages? Water? Fuel? Energy? Surely the “big issues” are going to disrupt the rich and shameless as millions or billions die, right? Right?

No, they’re not. Remember, these are people who buy blue water yachts on a whim, often have multiple personal helicopters and private jets, plop down millions of dollars for a warehouse full of fancy cars, have mansions on every continent but Antarctica, and enjoy a lifestyle that most of us literally can’t even imagine. They see themselves as lords and act like it.

Do you think ANY of the things that affect our survival are going to affect the Davos elite? Don’t be foolish: they simply buy their way to the front of the line for anything and everything they want. When it comes to it, they’ll have their own personal armies just like feudal lords of old. There’s no “competing” with this demographic: they take what they want, when they want. They don’t even see us as real people. The only value we provide in their world is whatever we can do for them. And right now, the vast majority of us are nothing but useless eaters in their eyes and just need to die, the faster, the better.

But what about productivity? If too many of us die, won’t we stop making them rich? Again, literally billions of us could die and there would be plenty of proles to keep them in comfort: they control the system, they control the dynamics, and they’ll rearrange things to suit their needs. When you own all the assets that are worth owning (that’s called “privatization,” folks), the nature of “income” and wealth change, and the rest of us be damned.

That’s what it really boils down to: this small group of people (and those who are really pulling the levers are no doubt only a small subset of this group of 3,000 or so) have damned the rest of us to suffering and death. They have embraced SARS-CoV-2 and likely climate change as at least part of the solution to planetary overpopulation. They’re driving this agenda, which is a long-term one, home through their influence over and ownership of our leaders, media, and various proxies who have been waging a war of information to convince us that mass infection is good, that mass disablement and death are normal, that there’s no reason to worry about climate change. Everything’s going to be okay. For them, at least.

Finally, if you think this is limited to one party or another, or one segment of the political spectrum, you’d be sorely mistaken. The Davos crowd aren’t liberals or conservatives. As I said earlier, they see themselves as lords unto themselves, and we are here only to serve them.

[bradenthompson]

Allegiant (2016) notes

Time for the epic* conclusion**, cinephiles, and what a ride it's been. We began with the totally fine and otherwise unremarkable Divergent (2014) before hitting the road like a ramp for Insurgent (2015). We're on an uphill trajectory, the stakes have never been more lukewarm, I just noticed Beatrice's tattoo is supposed to be birds, let's waste zero time and finish*** this.

>there's a factoid about this movie we cannot ignore. In going with the unhealthy body standard set by the Harry Potter movies, this final act, like Hunger Games and Twilight before it, was poised to be split in twain, ideally finished with the all new title Ascendant. However, a middling box office reception (because it couldn't have been critical reception), poor cast retention, and YA cinema fatigue (seems to be the only movie fatigue that actually happened) led to the hilarious conclusion of this conclusion being decisively inconclusive for no reason. Or I assume it's inconclusive. Maybe they pivoted the design at the 11th hour, maybe they didn't.

>I cannot deny this situation the comedy. I don't even remember this movie coming out, and until five minutes ago I thought it was a 2017 joint. Unfortunately my external critical eye stopped working around 2017, I'm a Divergenthead (Divergite? Divergoid?) due to the funny, and I will not look down on this movie unless I think I have to. We're looking at the last innocent movie of it's era. Never again can we return to inexpressive dystopian regimes and the hot young people standing opposed. And what a shame we cannot

>glitchy splash logos are back, IDC is gone and their ugly logo is not missed

>the city walls looks very vaultable. I don't remember any rule against citizens leaving. Imagining the entire faction society said "nah I heard it's boring, my legs are tired, I got like a bunch of shit to do, I'm not going out there."

>Detecting some... Randian notes? Presumably, the outside world created The Faction Society of NIMH for the purposes of indirectly breeding Divergents, people who possess all five desirable qualities in a person/leader. This throws my allegorical take out the window. Turns out, no, this isn't supposed to represent teenagers entering adult society because then what's all this supposed to imply? "Rules feel arbitrary and unfair; young people forced to conform to one of a few unfulfilling positions in life. Except the few nonconformists who forge their own path. And this is because the Rothschilds grew them in a biosphere specifically to turn out like this."

>was about to ask "who's giving all these perfect haircuts" but as Insurgent demonstrated people can just do this with zero experience

>Beatrice and Four love kissing on the edges of buildings, I've noticed.

>movie letting me feel no shame in calling Four's mom a creep. Now she's the authority villain now! Beatrice may still yet dropkick a woman in a pantsuit

>Beatrice having no issue walking around in public spaces for the lady that's basically Myers-Briggs Jesus

>lol Ansel's in jail

>injection count: 1

>ADR is ADRing

>Four's mom has risen to the rank of ultraleader on basically nothing. She led a factionless company, okay, but why are the factionfolk kowtowing to factionless scum in the first place? Not a lot of time passes between movies, and yet

>legacy characters get hung up like basketball jerseys in these films. Dauntless leader gets domed bc he's already served three movies as auxiliary B character. Enjoy retirement, buddy

>pounding my desk chanting for Ansel to die. srry im with Four's mom on this one

>"you went to war with Jeanine..." she did? I remember her popping Kwinslet like she was Jack Ruby, wouldn't call that one a War.

>literally just pick her up and put her in a dumpster. There are no factions, she has no power

>"what if there's nothing out there" "i can live with that if you're with me, but I can't live without trying" ... she can live with there being no outside world, on the condition Four is still there... but she can't live unless she checks if there's an outside world... can live if Four's her boyfriend... can't live if she doesn't go outside... why is this confusing me

>I've developed a fondness for the Divergent series' nonspecific set design. Everything's just generally dilapidated. Destroyed city, big holes in the concrete, it all looks like the queue for a theme park ride but ykw I'm always happy to see physical sets.

>lmao holy shit. Miles Teller does not give a shit. Literally cannot be paid to care. Good for him, my number 1 series parasite.

>injection count: 2

>I'm to understand they could totally camouflage Ansel by making him wear anything other than blue, right?

>dig this series', like, ontological villains. Whatever the heroes are trying to do at any moment, Mohawk Man will try to stop them. Literally whatever they got goin on

>this wall climbing scene'd be a great level in the video game that doesn't exist

>and now Tori has also left the series. Hardly knew ye. Feeling more confident in the prediction that Ansel's gonna bite it

>shut up, Ansel

>breaking my soft screencap rule bc I don't wanna rob anyone of Ansel Posture Dot Png:

>outside world looks like the venus levels from Destiny 1 but Chicago is mostly intact lol

>Four's teeth are so white

>outside world technology is so fuckin stupid looking

>Miles Teller just said Gadzooks

>Beatrice still only wearing the vest, now that's breathable

>these future guys are so extra for no reason "place your arm inside the tube" "hey so im naked and scared, can I at least know what it's gonna do" "arm, tube, now"

>okay so check this: Beatrice & Co. just landed at the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, and have just received the faction skinny--so pretty much what happened was genetic modification evolved to the point that it beget a caste system, which in turn led to global war which wiped out most the rest of the planet. However, the Bureau took all the unmodified people and placed them in Chicago under the faction society, in the attempt to breed a holistically perfect person? And that person is Beatrice? I think that person may be Beatrice, but someone should talk to her about all the murder

>shut up Ansel

>I don't mean to typecast but Bill Skarsgård's a villain, yeah

>Jeff Daniels here to deliver Beatrice the god damn news

>ooh ooh ooh ooh, my theory on Divergents from the first post was CORRECT, dingdingding, I win the money. Will elaborate on this in a bit

>HOMEWRECKER

>"our surveillance technology's incredible; it'll be like you're right there. Physically. On the sets we've already built. On the locations we've already secured. State of the art shit, Ansel."

>shut up Ansel

>I'm sorry, but did Veronica get bored of Beatrice or something? We're spending a lot of time with Four, who's best serving as Trophy Boyfriend to Action Girl Psycho. I thought by book three she'd have a grip on this but now we're sending Four on solo projects and keeping Beatrice locked in an office. Odd format for the final book

>no notes on Miles Teller just cockroaching his way through this franchise, I hope he's somehow the leader of Chicago by the end

>we're an hour in and it's felt like three. The first movie spent most of its time in a big warehouse and felt like less of a slog than this

>amused by Jeff Daniels' passing interest in the status of Beatrice and Four's relationship. Friendly man at the pub vibe

>Four just shot a man in the penis. Not really any other way of interpreting that

>always a fan of movies that use that classic punching foley. Ones that're like hitting a watermelon with a bat

>Jeff Daniels just said the word Allegiant like a noun but idk what he's referring to

>Skarsgård Innocent! cool

>you've never seen someone not give a shit like Miles Teller doesn't give a shit in this movie. If his character isn't like this in the book, that's an indictment of the book

>Ansel looks right at home in a gaming chair. He's got dumb streamer face

>Four's mom ain't in no war with nobody. Every large-scale conflict in this movie has the manpower of a chessboard, just the mom and Octavia spencer standing on opposite sides with nine extras each

>oh yeah. Four's got a dad

>we've got more serum, guys. Series has upgraded from injections to neurotoxin, tho

>Four's military friend: "here, take these guns. I'm on your guys' side." Beatrice: "k thanks, I literally don't know who you are"

>the yelling ADR is so funny, dude

>if Miles Teller has 100 fans I'm one of them, etc etc

>i'm a stuntmen pretending to be shot connoisseur and this movie's checking all the boxes

>Beatrice and Four love smooching with exactly one other person in the room

>gotta add another screenshot. I call this piece: "Mother-Son reconciliation while Miles Teller just twiddles with his hands in the background"

>good on the movie to deliver on all those big fans sticking out of the buildings. Wasn't just nonsensical design

>"Don't breathe in the gas!" oh, smart, why did I think of that

>really thought they was gonna pop Miles Teller but he lives another day

>one can nullify the dangers of the amnesia gas by just being quick about it

>shut up Ansel

>they should announce a continuation of this series, get everyone going "ah they're finally gonna make Ascendant" but no it's me delivering the Miles Teller solo film

>ten minutes of credits???

.......................(that's me inhaling) okay, I liked that one less than the previous two. Going off the movie's wikipedia page, I have that feeling in common with the cast. Not a new take but splitting this thing in twain was a demonstrably bad idea. Instead just worked to prove the lack of direction for this Epic Final Installment. I can find enjoyment in watching a stick float down a river, so I'm not a good person to ask wrt pertinent YA criticism, but I'm glad I got Miles Teller. Real MVP of this series.

NEXT UP... more YA. I'm in a mood.

[deathxwalkerxx]

Death Walker

Pairings: WandaNat x fem!reader

Warnings: uh shit folks i can’t remember the warnings. 

Summary: you’re on the run from your past. You’ve never had a chance at a normal life. But what happens when you run into a certain redhead? Will you stop running, or will you have to leave her behind?

A/N: Sorry that this is so late, panda’s!! work and life has been hectic!! 

part 26

Chapter 27

You began to pace the dark space now after hearing what Nyx had told you. Sure it made sense, and you wouldn’t deny that, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Okay, you need to explain a little more for me.” You say while Natasha and Wanda were sitting on the bed looking at you pacing back and forth. The both of them couldn’t help but find the image to be rather adorable, considering you were wearing your sushi pajamas that they had picked out for you. It did make Wanda wonder if Nyx even found them remotely intimidating considering you were in your sushi pajamas, Natasha was wearing her black silk pajamas, with white domes on them and shorts, and Wanda? Well she was wearing your cotton shorts and one of Natasha’s t-shirts. You all really didn’t look like gods right now. 

Nyx nods her head at your words and you stop pacing as you stand before her now, looking at the Goddess in front of you. “Why now? Why this life that we all get to be together? Why couldn’t we be together in our other lives?” Of course she explained that one of you didn’t find the others. You just couldn’t understand why. “When I said that the Fates didn’t like us interfering I did mean that. Though it didn’t stop some of us from interfering with your lives. The other God’s became terrified of your futures of the power you all will possess. So some took it upon themselves to make sure all three of you didn’t come together. So they killed one of you, every time that you were reincarnated.”  Nyx says and Natasha finds herself curious. “Which one did they kill? Whatever one of us they could get their hands on?” She asks now, as Wanda was moving herself closer to Natasha, not wanting to hear the answer really.

To learn that one of the girls that you love more than anything was murdered because of something that was out of your control? Who would want to sit there and listen to that? She understood the curiosity though, and she couldn’t deny that she herself was curious about the answer, even if she didn’t want to hear it. “They couldn’t touch you, due to you being my daughter that would cause a world of problems. They couldn’t touch Wanda, despite you not being a God your powers are still something to not trifle with.” Nyx says and you could feel a shiver running down your spine as you sit down next to Natasha now. “So they kill Tasha? In every life that she lives?” You ask, though you all knew the answer. “She was hard to find, very skilled in what she does. But she was never a match for a God. She was their easy prey.” Nyx says, and you could feel your own blood boiling while watching red wisps circling around the dark area.

“She isn’t some animal to hunt.” You spat, while Natasha was wrapping an arm around your shoulders now, pulling you in close while Wanda did the same to Natasha. “I agree, and we weren’t supposed to interfere, but again they were worried you’d wipe us all out. So they took precautions, and Natasha was the easy target.” Nyx says which has your hands turning to fists while you sit there listening to her. You didn’t think for a second that Natasha was an easy target. She knew how to fight and how to take care of herself, knew how to disappear if she really wanted to. “It’s okay, detka.” Natasha whispers in your ear. “To a God, I would be an easy target.” She whispers to you now, her lips pressing to your temple doing her best to calm you down, while you just sit there staring at your mother. “Don’t get me wrong, Natasha will become very powerful when your souls come together.” Nyx says, noting the anger in your eyes as you stare at her. 

“How do we do that?” Wanda asks now, trying her best to detour the conversation in another direction, since tension seems to be rising. “You’re already doing it, by loving one another, and letting that love blossom between all three of you.” Nyx says to you before she was shimmering once more, and you took that as she needed to go. “This will be the last time we see each other, until you become who you’re truly meant to become.” And with that she was gone, and you were all back in the compound. Your nerves were still wired and you found yourself pacing the room once more, while Natasha and Wanda sat there watching you. “Don’t you want to come back to bed, detka?” Natasha asks you while her and Wanda crawled back into bed, sitting up in it while still watching you pacing back and forth. “I think I need to go for a run.” You murmur before you begin to get dressed, which has Natasha and Wanda come over to you and wrap their arms around you now. “You sure, baby? You don’t want to sit in bed and talk about what just happened?” Wanda asks you now, though you were shaking your head, pressing your lips to her temple and then to Natasha’s. “No. I just need to go for a run, I just feel wired.” You say to them both, before you were pulling away from them so you could continue to get dressed.

Natasha looks to Wanda and she nods her head before pressing a kiss to her lips, smiling against them now. “I’ll come with you, Y/N/N. I could use a run.” Natasha says as she begins to get dressed also, while Wanda places a robe over herself. “I’ll make sure there is some water out for you both when you get back, and something to eat before you head to bed with me. Don’t run for too long though. It is late, and if I remember correctly, someone wanted to move out of the compound.” Wanda says while she was smiling at you before coming over to place a kiss to your lips. Of course the both of them were worried about you, you’d just met your mother and then got told you won’t see her again until you all become God’s, and she didn’t exactly tell you how long that was going to be. But if you needed to run to clear your head they would allow that, but they knew you’d need to talk about what had just happened, and what you were thinking and feeling, they wanted to be here for you.

So you and Natasha took off running and Natasha didn’t press you, she let you go at your pace, and if you wanted to run in silence then she was going to let you run in silence. She watched as you ran away from the compound a bit, toward the treeline, and then you just stopped. She stopped a few feet behind you, calling out to Wanda in her head, in which the other redhead came out quickly to Natasha’s side, before they both heard that scream that echoed around the trees. It didn’t take them long to reach you, to hold onto you. “We’re here, love. We’re here.” Wanda whispers to you as Natasha’s lips were pressing to your temple as you clung onto the both of them now. You don’t remember coming back indoors, let alone sitting down on the couch with Natasha and Wanda beside you. “I don’t like that they killed one of you, just to stop us from being together.” You say finally as your eyes were cast down at your hands that were in your lap right now. “I don’t like how they think they can play with our lives like that, and think they can get away with it.” You say to them, and they could hear how angry you were about it.

“I don’t like it either, detka. But now that we’re all together we can make sure that they don’t interfere with our lives again. Wanda, you seem to be an expert in these God’s, do you have any idea how we can stop that from happening?” Natasha asks her, as she was pulling your head to rest on her shoulder now, Natasha’s lips pressing to your forehead while Wanda’s fingers ran through your hair. “I think as long as we don’t say their names, they won’t know we’re talking about them. A God like them gets their powers from people talking about them and worshiping them.” Wanda says as you let out a deep breath. “I want them to pay. For taking Natasha’s life for god knows how long. I want them to hurt how they’ve made her hurt. They brought this on themselves you know? They didn’t want us to go after them, maybe they shouldn’t have gone after Nat first.” You say as Wanda and Natasha wrapped you up in a hug both of them pressing their lips to your head. 

“Are you saying you want to go after these God’s?” Wanda asks you now, while they still had you wrapped up in the hug, and you were nodding your head. “If they get wind of us being together, we won’t be able to stop them from hurting Natasha. Not until our souls come together.” You tell them both now, knowing full well, if any of them decide to take a look into what you three were up to in your lives and saw how close you all were to becoming what they were afraid of you becoming then they would be coming after you all, and you didn’t want them touching Natasha. You knew that Wanda wouldn’t want them touching her either. “Then we should probably make sure our souls are connected finally.” Natasha says as she was pulling back to look at your face and Wanda’s, her lips then pressing to yours making you whimper softly against hers. “We all know one way where we could truly connect. “ She whispers against your lips, sending shivers down your spine while you feel Wanda’s hands traveling over your body, making you sigh deeply as you all seem to start getting lost in each other. The magic between you all was beautiful, and it had your head spinning as you were getting lost in the both of them. You weren’t sure why you had been so afraid of having the both of them touching you, but you weren’t going to be so scared anymore. 

“How did we manage to end up in the kitchen?” You hear Wanda breathlessly say beside you, making you and Natasha chuckle softly. “I don’t know, but damn I don’t know why I was holding out on that for so long.” You mumble against Wanda’s shoulder, while Natasha had her head in the crook of Wanda’s neck, breathing her in deeply. “Why were you holding out?” Wanda asks you now, turning her head to look at you, as you were all trying to catch your breath. You shrug softly before curling yourself more against Wanda, your fingers gliding up and down Natasha’s arm. “I didn’t want you both seeing the scars.” You admit softly now, not wanting to look them both in the eyes as you say this. “We don’t care about the scars, baby girl. We love you, no matter what your skin is littered in.” Natasha says to you as she was leaning over Wanda so she could press a kiss to your lips. “We should really move, before anyone decides to come in here.” You say as you untangle yourself from the both of them now, and move toward the bedroom both your girls follow suit. You all climbed into bed with each other, relishing in the other, before sleep had taken you all. Before you all drifted off to sleep, you felt that pull, you could feel your girls without even focusing on trying to. They could feel you too, Natasha could hear your thoughts, could feel your heart beating with hers and Wanda’s. It was a beautiful feeling that you were all witnessing together, though what was going to happen tomorrow was a different story.

[fish-king]

Tips for transmasc folks:

Hair salons are your nemesis. Don't trust them. Barbershops, and specifically locally owned ones will be your friend. Reason being that they are far more likely to go "Aight cool" when you ask for a short haircut. See 2 for what to ask for specifically.

For super short hair your best bet is the fade. Fades come in all kinds of styles and lengths though, so note two things first: Where do you want the fade to start, and do you want the start of the fade to be skin. A low skin fade is my go to because I am fabulously gay, but you might want that frat boy look so go off king. Buzz cuts are ofc a choice, if you wanna rock a chrome dome you can, otherwise I can suggest the high and tight since if you walk around like you have a giant dick people will assume you're just a short guy in the military ngl.

Shampoo, plot twist all guys shampoo sucks ass and that's why you should get some. Its cheap, will make your hair weird as shit to style, and has esoteric nonsense instead of a scent. Do avoid the 2 in 1 but the everybody 5 in 1 is somehow alright. Don't eat the shampoo tho, it doesn't taste good.

Mustache and beard, congrats you can grow facial hair. Now shave it regularly for the first couple of months so it grows in evenly and not like a middle schoolers lip caterpillar. Plus, there is a learning curve to men's razors and avoiding razor burn/bumps.

Shaving the face, if you keep getting shaving bumps from shaving, try a different shaving cream or no shaving cream. Make sure you wet the blade and rinse it after every couple of passes though as it will eventually start getting jammed full of your manly™️ face hair. I recommend hot water so that any bacteria your face may have also die.

Face wash, depending on if you have T or not this one's hit or miss. Second puberty is a bitch for acne so wash regularly, and wash your pillowcase at least once a week to keep your skin clear.

Shaving everywhere else: Debatably not needed, but seriously do shave your armpits unless you don't sweat a lot. Just because you're a man doesn't mean you get to smell like shit. Make sure you pass this along to every other man as well because it's a real problem. [Your armpit hair will trap your stank down there and cause extra sweating, so please, just shave that one bit even if you don't shave anywhere else.]

Makeup: eyeshadow still looks hot on everyone apparently, so go off with whatever tbh.

Be sure to overly explain everything so people know you're a man [Sarcastic here but I mean, mansplaining can help you pass if that's your dice]

Lastly, get really into some kind of sport. I suggest MMA because regardless of your sexual preference you can watch two hot people punch each other for several minutes while shirtless so it's the best sport by default.

And that's my 10 shitty tips for being a man. Now watch as I ignore all of them to go be a woman.

I have no advice for packing aside from use softer materials since otherwise it'll look like you have a boner. Unless you're going for that, then just avoid melting it by sitting in the sun too long.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 11: In Which I Finally Go To A Good Aquarium

There has been, as any of the particularly astute fan of my blog may also have noted, a distinct and troubling lack of zoo visits on this journey. This wasn't for lack of trying, or the development of a concern for animal welfare that now outweighed the thrill of getting to go “look! A cheetah! …why's he so sad?”, no. The simple reason for the lack of fauna on this trip (apart from a fish, who are shit) was down to the placement of these zoos and how incredibly difficult they had been to get to, all being located, as they were, miles and effing miles outside of the city limits.

Granada, however, offered…if not a full, proper zoo, at least a reasonable facsimile in the form of the science park. 

The science park was, as the name suggests a compound that housed a bunch of scientific exhibits (even though the ‘science’ on display appeared to be limited, mostly to the science of stuff gently spinning.

Look at that sucker go

As well as a biodome (a big tropical room that was to serve as this trip’s zoo replacement) a small bird of prey sanctuary, a butterfly house, a museum or three, astronomy gardens and a waffle house, probably. I'm not sure about the last one, but there were loads of cafes and one of them probably did serve waffles. So that's where I went. The park, not the cafe. I had a packed lunch.

I went online and checked out tickets. They were reasonably priced, however, as with the Alhambra the day previous, the Biodome needed a pre-allocated time slot to be booked before you could visit and there appeared to be none left. Was this going to be my first zoo-less vagrancy?

…no. It wasn't. I went to the science park and asked to go into the zoo bit, in person and they said yes and even Gave me a time-slot only five minutes after my arrival, so hah.

Initially, I found myself quite annoyed by the concept of having a specific time at which I had to visit the Biodome and even more annoyed by the subsequent time limit they had placed on being allowed to enjoy it. One hour, to be precise. The Nazis. Regardless, I accepted my fate, listened to the relevant rules and regulations that one was to adhere to during a visit to the dome - one of which was not to bring any food in. I chuckled and agreed, quietly zipping my bag up which contained an entire, full loaf of bread which I had forgotten to remove from it in the morning and stepped inside.

As it turned out, being given an allotted time was more of a blessing than a curse as, though it did add a slight pressure to see the entire thing in the apportioned temporal limits, it also had the very pleasing effect of putting me amongst a small group of quiet and well behaved other visitors for my visit, rather than a pulsing mass of stupid flesh, as previous, other, worse institutions has allowed. I didn't have to swim through dullards to see a single thing and it was right good.

The Biodome itself was genuinely pretty good. It started with the third aquarium of my trip

Great.

But that was fine because it was definitely the best of them all

With the notable exception of this big boi

And wound slowly from the aquatic exhibits into a big hot room with all crocodiles and birds and monkeys in it and it was lovely. Far too warm, to be honest, but I can forgive that of a single room that houses both lemurs

Yes.

And otters

Yes-er.

I milled around a little, watching an otter try to crack a rock open on its tummy using another, different rock for ages and ages, before slowly ambling out, having spend 55 minutes there. A comfortable five before I would officially be a criminal (although quite what they could do if I decided to stay longer wasn't clear.)

Worth noting, too, that 55 minutes was the same length of time I spent at the Seville aquarium but the experience was one third of the price and ten times as good. Fuck you Seville aquarium and also Ryanair.

The park was due to close early today, it being a Sunday and also the winter, so I did rather feel like I had to squeeze the rest of my visit of the really quite substantial park into a shorter time than I would have liked. I had a look, first, at an exhibit of disappointingly professional taxidermy 

What's the point if their eye-sockets aren't even exploding...

Before I ambled outside into the very pleasant weather of the outdoorsy parts, where I caught the tail end of an exotic bird flight display, which I did not understand a single word of but which I imagine were to the effects of “birds are brilliant!”, then had a quick gawk at the butterfly house which I didn't enjoy very much owing to the sheer density of people in it and the fact that butterflies, while pretty, are still just gross insects that fly at your face purely to intimidate you.

I darted to the astronomy garden to have a look at some sundials and absolutely delighted in watching the other visitors trying to take pictures of them, but all uniformly stood in positions from which their shadows completely obscured those cast by the dial

Idet.

And even quickly managed a tertiary look around a big standard exhibit on the human body

Yeah, I'm made of veins; tell me something I don't know...

Before closing time loomed and I felt it prudent to leave. I'd only been there about three hours, but honestly could have spent another two there, easily - another three would have been silly - and I had a really very nice time in the process. It was unlikely that I wouldn't, to be honest, given that the science park combined literally everything I like to do on these trips into one single low-priced compound; a natural history museum with a bit of a zoo attached; a lovely warm park to have a walk around it and - if I had had the time - even a big tall observation tower that I could have gone up and pretended I was an angry god from

Also it had giants ants.

However good it was, though, it was now closed while the hour remained reasonably early. I walked, then, to a nearby park to enjoy a late lunch on a bench, andfollowed by a full and comprehensive exploration of the park itself which was pleasant if not exactly thrilling.

Wahoo.

I made the thirty minute walk back to my last night at the hostel, determined not to nap only to - to literally no one's surprise but my own - fall asleep for an hour upon returning. I made a quick excursion to the nearby Carrefour, which I had visited every single day I had been here and twice on one of them, and bought some absolutely foul microwavable carbonara which I ate.unhappily in a crowded mess hall before returning to bed having had, other than the very last part of it, really quite a nice day. 

I promise I'll get assaulted by another donkey or something soon.

[sara-scribbles]

hiya! could i have a request where leona and his femso meets their future twin children lev and lavica (both names mean lion lol). maybe they meet the savanaclaw members?

Papa Leona

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Leona Kingscholar/F!Reader Other Characters: Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl, Grim Word Count: 1,458 Note: I tweaked a bit where they meet Jack and Ruggie only. Hope you don't mind. Warnings: None

---------

Leona isn’t sure what woke him up at first. His mind is still fuzzy from sleep as he stares up at the glass dome of the botanical gardens. Ears twitching, he finally picks up on two distinct voices. There’s rustling as one of the brushes shake.

“Are you sure he’s here?” one voice asks.

“Yeah! Mama said he always napped in the garden. He should be around…here!”

Suddenly two faces pop up just in front of where Leona is lounging. He glares at the two kids as they stare at him wide eyed. He can already feel a headache coming on at the thought of being bothered by brats.

However the words out of one brat’s mouth almost stops his heart. “Papa!”

The two kids launch themselves at Leona. He chokes as one headbutts him in the stomach. “What the fuck!”

“Oooohhhh! Papa said a bad word!” the other brat says, eyes wide.

Pulling the kids off, Leona stands up so he can glower down at them. “Who are you brats!?”

“I’m Lev and this is my sister, Lavica,” the boy answers. He grins widely, revealing a missing front tooth.

The girl, Lavica, tugs at Leona’s tail causing him to growl and snatch it away. “Papa, where’s mama?”

“Like hell if I know. And stop calling me papa!” Glaring at the two, Leona decides to leave. He won’t be getting any sleep with two brats around.

However as he walks, they follow after him. “Papa, are you gonna show us around your school?”

“Papa, you're walking too fast! Can you carry me?”

“What’s that statue, papa?”

“Pa-”

Turning suddenly, he snarls, “Will you two stop following me and calling me papa?! Scram!” Lips wobble and eyes start becoming teary, and Leona panics. “Fuck! Don’t cry!!” He doesn’t know how to comfort children, but he definitely doesn’t like when they cry.

“P-papa’s so m-mean!” Lavica cries. Large tears fall from their faces as their wails echo in the open.

“Shit…!” He looks around frantically.

“Huh? Isn’t that Leona?” A familiar gruff voice catches his attention. Jack and Ruggie happen to come upon a strange sight. Two small children crying while Leona looks about to have a conniption.

“Man, Leona, I know you don’t like kids, but did ya have’ta make them cry? Shishishishi!” Ruggie is more amused than concerned at the sight.

Running his hands through his hair, he grumbles, “Shut up. These brats came out of nowhere and keep followin’ me.”

The boy sniffs as his tears lessen once he notices the two. “U-uncle Ruggie?”

The girl also brightens up. “Uncle Jack!?” Just as quickly as they started crying, they’re now hugging both boys.

“What the???” Jack doesn’t know if he should shake the kid clinging to his legs or not.

Ruggie isn’t in any better position as Lavica is wiping her snot-covered face on his shirt. “Hey! Not the shirt! Ugh…another wash…”

“Why are they calling us uncle?” Jack asks. He picks the boy up by the back of his shirt. The boy hangs in the air like a rag doll while smiling widely.

“Cause you’re our uncles!” the boy explains unhelpfully.

“Wow even now papa has uncle Ruggie doing his work,” Lavica comments, poking at the laundry bag the hyena is carrying.

“Papa?” Looking between the two kids and Leona, they start to piece the scene together.. 

Jack looks scandalized. “Y-you’re a dad?!”

“Shishishi! I didn’t know you had kids, Leona. Does (y/n) know?” Ruggie’s holding his stomach as the lion gives him a withering look.

“They ain’t mine, obviously!” He crosses his arms though he’s relieved they aren’t crying anymore.

“They kinda do look like you, now that I’m looking,” Jack comments as he observes the two, who are busy going through Ruggie’s other bag filled with snacks from Sam’s shop.

They both look almost like a smaller version of Leona except the eyes. They don’t have his vibrant greens, which Jack attributes to whoever their mom might be.

“(Y/N)? You mean mama? We wanna see mama!” Both kids are suddenly staring at Ruggie with starry eyes.

“Where’s mama?” the boy asks, grabbing onto the hem of Ruggie’s shirt.

“I g-guess we figured who the m-mom is…” Jack awkwardly scratches his head as Leona looks ready to pass out.

“Uhhh, Leona, I think they really want to see (y/n).” The children continue to cling to him, making it difficult to move.

They turn to Leona with large, pleading eyes. Eyes that he recognized as yours the moment he saw the brats, but hr tried to ignore it. “Please, papa! We wanna see mama too! Promise we’ll go home after.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “Fine. We’ll go to Ramshackle to see the herbivore.” Anything to get these kids to leave.

It’s an entire affair getting them from the courtyard to the dorm. They have a tendency to wander off, and Leona has to wrangle them back. Ruggie tags along just to see what happens. Jack follows with some concern.

Thankfully, the front door is open, and they let themselves in. Grim is the first one they see, and the two kids immediately run over to him. “Uncle Grim!”

“Mwaaa!? Whose snot nosed kids are these?” the gray cat exclaims as they try to hug him. He’s unsuccessful in avoiding their hands and ends up being hugged by both.

“Apparently Leona and (y/n)’s kids.” Ruggie sets down his bundles. “Where is (y/n)?”

“(Y/N) has kids!?” His eyes widen and his voice goes up a few octaves.

“I have what?” You had heard the commotion and decided to check it out. However seeing Grim being squeezed by two children with lion ears while Ruggie, Jack and Leona watch is not what you expect.

Your boyfriend sighs. “These brats insist they’re our kids.”

Eyebrows flying up, you survey said kids. “Uhh… Really?”

Letting go of Grim, the two dash over and wrap their arms around your legs. “Mama! We wanted to see you and Papa when you were at NRC!”

“Yeah! So Lev had an idea to use the time artifact. But we gotta go back soon,” the girl explained, her little tail drooping a bit.

“Time artifact?” You glance over at the three beastmen, but they look as clueless as you. “R-right, well I guess you two should head back before you get into trouble.”

Pouting, they let you go before hugging Leona once more. “Bye papa!

“Bye uncle Jack, uncle Ruggie and uncle Grim!” Each gets one last hug before Lev pulls out a golden pocket watch. Holding hands he twists the dial and a bright gold light fills the room. Once the light vanishes, they’re gone.

“Um… did that just happen?” you ask in confused disbelief.

“Yup. Looks like you and Leona get busy. Shishishishi!” While Ruggie has a good laugh, you glance over to a very quiet lion.

“Are you doing okay?” His face is completely blank. You’re worried that the encounter may have broken him.

“...” Rubbing his temples he shakes his head. “Those brats gave me a headache.” Grabbing your hand, he tugs you upstairs.

“Leona?” You follow.

“Hush, herbivore. I need a nap.” Chuckling, you allow him to drag you to your room. It seems the revelation sent a bit of a shock through Leona. Nothing a good nap can’t fix.

---------

Sometime in the future…

“Mama! Papa!”

Two small bodies jump on the bed, causing the other two occupants to rouse. “Lev? Lavica?” You roll over to meet the excited gaze of your kids. Leona grumbles something unintelligible but keeps his eyes closed. “What’s going on? It’s a bit early to be up.”

Holding open your arms, the two burrow into your embrace. “Nothing! We just missed you,” Lev says with a smile.

“Yeah! We missed you and papa.” Lavica nods before curling herself into a ball like her brother.

Smoothing down their wild hair, you gaze fondly at the two. “I miss you both all the time. Let’s sleep a bit more. Papa’s still tired.”

“Okay!” they chime in unison.

Much like their father, they fall asleep quickly. You’re dozing back to sleep when you feel Leona’s arms snake around your waist. “Did you put the watch back?” he asks, grumbling.

There’s a pause before they both answer together, “Yes, papa!”

He buries his face in your back with a sigh. “What watch?” you ask, curious now.

You can feel him smirking. He chuckles. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, herbivore.”

Before you can poke more into the topic, Leona’s asleep. Still tired from being woken up early, your brain’s not functioning enough to figure out at the moment. Lulled by the warmth of the bodies and the even breathing, you fall back asleep.

[ignitedbynatsu]

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Sting

A/N: Final-fucking-ly. excuse my language. You have no idea how long I’ve been playing with this idea in my head and just not being able to write it out. It was horrible. I hope you like it! I’ll try to post some more stuff the upcoming week but I can’t promise anything since everything is a bit overwhelming lately. Thank you for all the love and support! Don’t hesitate to drop me a request as well or just come and say hi 🥰

Warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel like you’re overdramatic), swearing, wounds

Genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Rogue

☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀

"Is that really all you got, Yukino" you taunted the girl as a smug look was plastered on your face. The celestial mage was panting heavily in front of you. She had come to you a couple of weeks ago to learn how to wield a sword since she felt useless in a battle when she didn't have her keys. You happily agreed to it, seeing it as an opportunity to train more.

She charged at you, holding the diamond sword you made earlier diagonally in front of her face, ready to strike but at the same ready to block any attack that comes her way, just like you taught her.

You swiftly moved away, spinning on your feet in the progress as you slowly formed diamond armour around your body. You wanted to practise closer combat without your sword, which is why you were so focused on your defence. You knew you wouldn't always be able to rely on your sword skills, so this was the perfect moment to practice. 

Nobody doubted for a second the fact that you were an excellent swordswoman,it was the exact reason why Yukino came to you in the first place. But you could get overconfident, resulting in you slacking your moves and getting careless, and that's exactly what happened

Your back was still facing the celestial mage as you took your time, presuming she wouldn't be able to recover that quickly after you swept her feet from underneath her. But you were wrong, resulting in Yukino getting a direct hit on you. Unbeknownst to her, she hit you in your blind spot which was right in between shoulder blades. It was the spot where your armour was the weakest.

You fell forward, immediately forming a dome made out of diamond around you in an attempt to shield you from any following attempts.

 Yukino gasped at your reaction, knowing you only made that move when you were hurt badly "(Y/N)! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

You let the shield crumble down again, making you visible to your friend. Placing a knee on the ground and pushing yourself up, you winced at the burning sensation. "It's fine, I was careless. It's not your fault"

Your reassuring words didn't ease the worry that was swimming through Yukino's mind "I'll go get some stuff to clean it up"

"No, it's fine, I'll go get it myself in a bit." You stopped the girl from running away as you stood up straight in an attempt to show her you were fine "you are progressing really fast"

"It's all thanks to you. Are you sure you don't need me to check up on your wound?" She offered again.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Maybe I'll try roping Sting into pampering me. That way he'd at least has done something useful today" you attempted to joke to make the younger mage feel better, and it was a success as a small chuckled left her lips. "Let's go back shall we"

Once back, the stinging sensation had still not died down. In fact, it only got worse.

"Sting" you whined as you leaned your head against your boyfriend's shoulder.

He chuckled at your childishness as he turned to look at you "yes, my love?"

"I got badly hurt during training with Yukino" you pouted "can you take a look at it?"

A chuckle left his lips once again "sure drama queen, where is it?"

"I'm not being a drama queen" you stepped away from him, the pout was still evident on your face but this time it was paired with your scrunched eyebrows.

"Of course you're not" sarcasm dripping from the words that just left his mouth.

"What do mean by that?" Your lips were now tightly pressed together, forming a straight line. You were now standing directly in front of him with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Remember that time you thought Rogue got kidnapped while he just overslept?" Sting explained, but you were quick to defend yourself "in my defence, Rogue had never once overslept."

"Fine, what about that time I twisted my ankle and thought I had broken it for sure" the crease between your eyebrows deepened as he kept listing situations "or that time you thought some guy was harassing Minerva while they were just out on a date?"

"I was just worried" you mumbled as you recalled more encounters where you were indeed overdramatic.

  "All I'm saying is, you tend to enlarge things. That's why I'm pretty sure that it's only a scratch, after all, Yukino just learned how to handle a sword. There's no way she could've hit you, the best swordswoman of our guild, that hard. But if you want I could still look at the wittle wound" he cooed at you, unknowingly worsening your mood.

"No. It's fine. I'm probably just being overdramatic again" the coldness that was latched to your words, send shivers down the guild master's spine, but before he could even muster an apology, you had turned on your heels and left to go home.

That night when Sting came home, he apologized and told you he didn't mean to make you feel that way. However, his words felt shallow, leaving nothing but an empty promise to be better.

The following days, the burning sensation only got worse, but you kept telling yourself that it was nothing. It was probably only a scratch just like Sting said.

Ignoring the pain, you kept going on about your days like normal. You kept making mental notes to not get swallowed by the worry for your guildmates and blow everything out of proportion. You absolutely did not want to be known as the girl who cried wolf.

Nobody seemed to notice, at least, so you thought. The boy in the shadows that liked observing more than talking to people noticed every small change from the moment Sting called you overdramatic.

It's why he wasn't surprised when Sting called him one morning, panic coated every word he spoke "Rogue! (Y/N) isn't waking up! I don't know what happened! Shit! Rogue! Help! What do I do?"

"Get her to the hospital as soon as possible, I'll meet you there" he replied in a much calmer voice. He knew he'd make matters only worse if he'd let his own worry shine through.

Sting had successfully brought you to the hospital in under ten minutes, Rogue shortly arrived after you two.

"I don't know what happened... She seemed fine yesterday…" Sting trailed off as the twin dragon slayers were seated next to your hospital bed.

"Did she really though?" Rogue sighed which earned him a questioning look from the blonde " (Y/N) hasn't been herself for almost a week"

"What do you mean? She seems perfectly normal to me?" Sting's gaze averted from his friend to you as he tried to recall any odd behaviour, but nothing came to mind.

A heavy sigh left the raven-haired mage again "ever since you called her overdramatic, she's been acting more distant, being less expressive. I think you hit a nerve when you said those words"

Sting was quick to defend himself "it can't be that. I apologized that night, and she told me it was nothing, that she didn't care"

"Whatever you say" he mumbled as he noticed your hand twitching.

Sting quickly grasped that same hand and waited patiently for you to open yours, while anticipation filled his. "I'll go get a doctor"

Rogue re-entered with a doctor sooner after, once you were fully awake " Ah, miss (L/N) good to see you awake"

You nodded your head awkwardly before she continued "you had a nasty looking cut between your shoulder blades, were you aware of that?"

"Yes," you mumbled as you fiddled with your finger, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.

The doctor sighed as she put the clipboard down "there was an infection spreading from that wound due to pieces of diamond stuck in it. Had you waited any longer, you would have died. Why didn't you come sooner"

You felt incredibly small as all eyes were looking at you, waiting for you to respond "I didn't think it was that bad. I didn't want to seem overdramatic"

As soon as the last word rolled off your tongue, Sting's eyes grew wide in realization. Rogue was right. "We'll give you a moment"

"(Y/N)" you refused to meet his eyes, even when he grabbed your hand to stop you from fiddling, so he tried again but with a more stern tone this time "(Y/N) look at me"

You did as he requested and wished you could sink into the darkness as Rogue could right there and then. The hurt and disappointment that were swimming in his eyes made your gut wrench as you never intended to upset him "why didn't you say anything?"

"You said that I was being a drama queen and that there was probably nothing to be worried about, so I assumed that it was just that, me being my overdramatic self" you explained, your eyes averting again to your fingers that were now intertwined with Sting.

"I thought I told you I didn't mean that" he frowned at the fact that you didn't even dare to look at him.

"But you were right!" You explained fed up as frustration tears started to form in the corner of your eyes "I am overdramatic. I blow everything out of proportion. I am just a burden that brings unnecessary stress into everyone's lives"

"Okay stop that. First of all, you are not a burden, nobody thinks that so stop it. Second of all, I am really really sorry that I made you doubt yourself. You're not overdramatic, well maybe a little, but it's not a bad thing. It shows how much you care about all of us. I'd rather have you blow things out of proportion than minimalize it and have bad things happen like this" he explained.

"You really think so?" You ask, your watery eyes finally meeting his.

"I know so. I am so sorry for making you feel so insecure about yourself. That was never my intention, please forgive me" he pleaded.

"I forgive you, I'm sorry for not saying anything sooner about the wound" you reply as you kissed his hand.

"It's alright. Now get some rest, my love. I'll be here when you wake up"

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 5]     [FINAL]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, restraints, blindfolds, daddy!kink, dirty talk, sex toys, using panties as a gag, forced orgasms, squirting! 🥴💕oMG YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WTF 😭😭😭 I just wanna say thank you so much for all the love and support you all have given me while writing Caffeine and Until I Met You I really cannot believe any of this… It’s crazy to me that you guys liked this fratboy wonwoo au so much… I really appreciate it! And expect some spin off chapters in the future! I already have 3 planned ☠️ Also, I mention it all the time but I never expect any of my fics to get this much love so every time I’m just shocked 😭 literally sitting here blushing just thinking about it 😭😭💕dfsdffds Also this is almost 4500 words so… strap in 😎🥴 Enjoy the last chapter, inbox roundup tmr and I love you so so so so much 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 COMPLETE

Wonwoo stares at himself in the mirror, lips pursed and brows furrowed.

“I don’t know.”

Mingyu and Minghao both sigh; the latter throwing his arms up in defeat when Wonwoo grimaces in the mirror’s reflection. “Hyung, you haven’t liked anything we dressed you in. Why don’t you trust us?”

Mingyu places his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders - squeezing the padding in the blazer as he meets the older male’s stare in the mirror.

“This is a date, right?”

“I mean… Yeah? I guess?” Wonwoo mumbles, a little bit shy. “I just don’t want her to think I’m trying too hard. I’m not trying to propose to her, you know. Just trying to get in the foot in the door towards the right direction.”

Minghao steps forward, sighing and shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s true. But also… Isn’t think your first, real, official date with her? Don’t you want it to be special?”

This time Wonwoo laughs at the pair's dramatics - already shrugging off the blazer as Mingyu’s hands fall from his shoulders.

“God, the two of you make it seem like I’ve never dated a day in my life.”

“Hyung, aren’t you also kind of acting like that yourself? You asked us to help you dress for it in the first place.”

A crimson flush paints Wonwoo’s cheeks at Mingyu’s words; lips pressing into a firm line as he avoids their shit eating grins.

Goddamn it.

“Whatever, just show me other outfits you guys have.”

Wonwoo tells you to meet him in front of the library at 10AM.

‘It’s somewhere familiar.’ He says.

You’d rolled your eyes but agreed - already standing in front of the familiar doors ten minutes earlier than your agreed meeting time.

Part of you was extremely giddy and excited and the other parts of you were nervous and anxious at what Wonwoo had planned for today.

‘Did you have any suggestions for our date?’

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek as he sends you the text - palms clammy as he sighs.

‘You should ask for her opinion, hyung. Let her know you value her!’ Mingyu had said.

Wonwoo knows that.

But he blames being away from home a little too long for his airheadedness about it all. Tells himself it’s because he was gone for so long that he doesn’t really know how to act anymore.

Deep down inside, Wonwoo knows it’s really just because you make his heart do backflips when you smile at him and he just never knows how to respond except by shooting you an awkward tight lipped smile of his own.

He’ll call you beautiful all day long and praise you until you beg him to stop but something about the candid moments in between the pleasure that are the moments that make him feel like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again.

But Wonwoo wouldn’t quite admit that to you right now.

‘What would your ideal date be, Wonwoo?’

He runs late by ten minutes.

Soft curses spill from his lips the entire time he jogs over - the flower bouquet in his clammy hand getting crushed slightly at the death grip he has on it.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m late!”

Wonwoo rambles on about how Minghao wouldn’t stop chasing him with a bottle of hairspray but your shaking pupils can only focus on the poor bouquet of flowers being throttled in the midst of Wonwoo’s animated retelling.

“A--are those for m-me?” You whisper; cutting him off as his eyes flit down to his hand.

“O-oh, um, yes, f-for you…” He passes you the bouquet - a shy smile on his face when you take it from his hands.

He’d picked them out himself after deciding on his own that he wanted to do something special for you. 

Wanted it to mean something important.

“A dried flower bouquet?”

Wonwoo smiles sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.

Was it too cheesy?

“They’re already dried so they’ll technically last forever now.”

You’re glad, for once, that you can manage to hold in the scream that almost escapes you when you look up to Wonwoo’s bespectacled face.

“O-oh… Thank you, Wonwoo.”

You want to learn about Wonwoo.

What he likes and dislikes and what he likes to do in his free time. You have a vague idea of it all, but you want to hear it from him directly. 

You want him to turn to you and openly talk to you like you’ve been lovers for much longer.

He holds your hand as he guides you through the museum, but he’s oddly quiet and aloof when you try to pull him into conversations.

“Wonwoo, I--”

“Hey look, it’s a Hannah Höch piece. She’s one of the artists that pioneered that collaging thing Mingyu likes to do.” You lose him again as he reads off a biography off the wall and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his back.

You’d ask him over lunch.

The two of you spend a good few hours at the museum.

Although, admittedly, you spend more of that time following Wonwoo around as he silently admires the pieces instead of talking to you.

But by the time lunch is rolling around, he walks you over to a small hole in the wall cafe; flowers adorning the entrance and large windows letting in the sunlight as the two of you sit in a small nook away from most of the other customers.

“So, I--”

“Wonwoo, can I ask you a question?”

He tilts his head in mild confusion at your perplexed tone. “Sure?”

It takes a few seconds of you opening and closing your mouth, unsure of where to start before you sigh.

“So… is this a date?”

Wonwoo scratches the back of his head, ears and cheeks hot as you stare back at him. “I just–I want to understand where we are, Wonwoo. Or what we are, I guess.”

There’s a sigh on his lips and out of nervousness, all he can do is readjust his glasses for the third time.

“I told you I was bad at this.”

He was nervous the entire time the two of you were at the museum and he didn’t know how to let you know so he just didn’t. 

He was hoping that he would’ve had the confidence like he usually did. 

“I’m sorry, I know, I--I should’ve tried talking but god, you make me so fucking nervous?” He laughs at his own shyness as he runs a free hand through his hair, fully messing up the styling that Minghao had painstakingly done.

“I make you nervous?”

Oh god.

“I--yeah. You really do.” He smiles genuinely at you before his shy eyes focus on the cup of coffee in front of himself. “I know it’s hard to believe, all things considered, but you really do and sometimes I don’t know how to handle myself so I just… Don’t. And I know it’s not fair and I’m super fucking aware I do it too, I just--I can be bad at words sometimes, I guess.”

You try to keep your cool as you nod; lips easing into a soft smile as you stare at Wonwoo dreamily.

You make him nervous.

Letting it go for now, you stir your drink; thinking of ways to get Wonwoo to be more talkative but not in a nervous, panicked way.

“Hey, why don’t you tell me about your semester abroad?”

That manages to do the trick as Wonwoo spends the rest of the lunch portion of your date telling you various anecdotes of his trip.

And you learn that other than the long lectures and midday naps, his eyes light up at the stories he tells you about when they were actually at the archeological dig sites.

“It was so interesting to see remnants of what used to roam the earth before we did and to see little artifacts of old cities. I could’ve spent all day out there just excavating.”

“D’you think you’ll go again if you get the chance?”

Wonwoo squeezes your hand as the two of you walk out of the little cafe - already heading towards the last destination that he’d picked out.

“It’d be nice to.” He grins cheekily at you. “But maybe next time we could go together?”

You end up having to take a taxi to get to the final location.

‘It’d be too far to walk for you, pretty baby~’ Wonwoo had cooed.

The car stops after about 35 minutes and while he pays the fare, you step out to read the sign in front of the large domed building.

‘Planetarium.’

“You okay, baby?”

“Hmm? Y-yeah! I’m just… Wow, I don’t think I’ve been here in… ever.” You laugh awkwardly as Wonwoo places a gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I thought it’d be nice and quiet. We could just... Enjoy each others’ company. And talk. Finally.”

The two of you are quiet when you walk in but Wonwoo tells the receptionist that he’s booked a private room which makes your cheeks warm up.

He’d definitely gone the extra mile.

The two of you are led to a smaller room - just enough to fit ten or so people except it’s only you and Wonwoo once the receptionist shuts the door and leaves you be.

“Shall we?” You nod as you take a seat in one of the recliners; setting your things down into the seat next to you as Wonwoo takes the seat on your other side. The two of you get comfortable as you stare up into the projected night sky - only the buzzing of the projectors in the small room filling up the silence as you start to relax.

Wonwoo reaches for your hand in the darkness and you feel yourself jolt in surprise when he tugs you a little closer to himself.

“Have you ever heard the story of the sun and moon?”

“Hmm? Which one? Aren’t there a lot?”

He closes his eyes, sighing softly as he relaxes in the darkness.

“It’s that old story about how the Sun loved the Moon so much that he died for her every night so that she could breathe. He thought she was so beautiful when she’d glow but the Moon knew their fates were decided in different paths. So the Sun would see her in passing, short glimpses, right before he disappeared beyond the horizon. It’s a romantic story about sacrifice and star crossed lovers.”

“Is that what we are?”

Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh; eyes forming crescents as his glasses slide down his nose bridge.

“No, I think our story is much more fortunate than that.”

Black is Wonwoo’s favorite color.

“A-ah, hold on…!”

He likes to take naps when he’s not working or in his classes and sometimes spends his time playing PC games with his frat brothers until 3 in the morning.

“Wo--Wonwoo!”

He doesn’t have a ton of hobbies but he’s been thinking about videography lately since Mingyu’s brought it up.

“Baby, h-hold on, I’m gonna drop you if you don’t stop flailing!”

And he’s already thinking about taking a film class next semester and maybe quitting his job at the library to focus.

He tells you his favorite hyung is Seungcheol, ‘because he buys food all the time’ and his favorite dongsaeng is Seokmin, ‘because he cries easily so you know his heart is always in the right place.’

“Okay, finally!”

Wonwoo all but kicks the door to his room open, carrying you inside before he kicks it shut.

He lays you down gently on the bed as you giggle; a gentle smile on his face when he lays down next to you.

“I don’t know why you wanted to carry me up the entire flight of stairs but thank you.”

“Think of it as my sun sacrificing for your moon.”

You roll your eyes at his sudden cheesiness and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself rolling onto your side and immediately reaching for Wonwoo’s face as you tug him into a heated kiss.

“Mmph!”

He’s taken by surprise at first but quickly melts into it himself; eyes closing and hands reaching for your body when you start to roll on top of him.

His lips are soft and his kisses slow - the taste of coffee lingering on his lips and tongue when your lips part for him.

You’re reminded of his soft and gentle touches from a few days prior when you moan against his mouth and he’s quick to thread a hand through your hair before he flips your positions so that you’re underneath him instead.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

He kisses you on the lips one more time before he pulls away and takes his glasses off.

“I have one more thing for you to conclude our date.”

“Oh? A gift?”

“You can say that…”

He gets up from the bed and walks over to his closet - fetching a small box that he brings back to the bed as you sit up on your elbows.

“Wait, you’re not actually proposing, are you? On the first date?” Snorting, he takes the lid off and empties the contents of the box onto the bed.

“Depends. There’s definitely a cock ring in this pile somewhere.”

‘You can use anything in this box on me tonight. I wanna give you the freedom.’

“You look… wow.”

You try your best to not go over the top with the toys but you couldn’t help yourself when you reached for the blindfold and the set of handcuffs; shaky fingers helping Wonwoo get into position against the headboard before you had locked the handcuffs into place and wrapped the blindfold around his head.

“Everything you dreamed about, baby? Having me at your mercy?” He smirks and even through the blindfold, you already know his eyes are smoldering and staring holes into you as you sit on his thighs.

“Maybe we should switch off every now and again ‘cause you look really good like this, Wonwoo…”

“Hah, well, let’s see how well you do, hmm, princess? Maybe if you do a good job, I might let you.”

Gulping, your eyes flit down his half naked body and yours before you reach for one more thing from the box; turning it on and letting it buzz to life as Wonwoo tenses up slightly.

He holds his breath and anticipates it but he’s still not as prepared as he thinks when you press the vibrator against his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Oh--s-shit!”

The sensations feel even stronger with his eyes covered by the blindfold and his arms bound above his head and no matter how much he wants to tug against his restraints, he knows he can’t do anything.

Your mouth is agape at the way Wonwoo squirms underneath you and for a moment, you wonder if this is what he sees when you’re the one squirming underneath him.

“You’re not usually this sensitive… daddy~”

The teasing lilt in your voice has Wonwoo clenching his jaw before he huffs. “Daddy’s not used to being the one tied up, sweetheart.”

He opens his mouth to comment again, only a soft moan floating past his lips as he thrusts up against the vibrator. You don’t do anything other than hold it against his clothed cock but it’s enough for him to want to give in and switch places with you already - even though it’s only been minutes since you started.

Wonwoo tells himself control is something he needs to learn how to manage.

You can’t help but touch yourself while you hold the toy against him; biting your lip to hold in your noises when you gently run your fingers over your clothed mound.

“Sweetheart…”

“Y-yes, daddy?”

Grinning, Wonwoo can already tell by the shakiness of your voice that you’re affected too and he can’t help but want his hands roaming all over your skin.

“You should have all your fun now while you can~”

Gulping, you heed the warning in his voice as you set the vibrator to its highest setting, causing Wonwoo to let out a broken cry as the vibrations make his entire body tremble and try to shy away from the toy.

“G--god, fuh--fuck, ngh…”

His moans have your pussy clenching around emptiness and your fingertips only press harder into the wet patch of your panties at the way he tugs against his restraints.

“D-daddy… I--Can I sit on your cock now? I can’t w-wait any longer, you look so good…”

“O-oh? Watching daddy being a little bit submissive got your panties all wet, huh, princess? Are you wet enough to take daddy’s cock already?”

“Mmhmm…”

You turn off the toy and pull it away from him, watching his body go slack before you shimmy off of his lap to take off your panties.

A grin etches itself onto your face as you hold the wet material in your hands. “Daddy? Do you wanna know how wet I am?”

You can see Wonwoo’s brows furrow from above the blindfold but he nods once, lips parted slightly as he catches his breath. Goosebumps are all over his skin and he can feel you starting to grind down onto his clothed cock as your wetness soaks into the material of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, sweetheart, I--mmph!”

Giggling, you stuff the fabric between his parted lips - muffling anything he was going to say after as you grind down onto him harder. “Mmh, daddy you’re so hard… ‘m gonna make myself cum on your cock now, okay~?”

Only what you can assume are muffled curse words fall from his lips when you scoot back down to his thighs, tugging his boxer briefs down before wrapping a hand around his cock.

You lean over and let saliva drip from your mouth to the head of his cock - smearing the spit and his precum up and down his shaft as you prolong his teasing before giving himself, and yourself, what you both really want.

“Daddy, I wish you could see yourself right now~ I can tell how much you wanna feel my cute ‘lil pussy wrapped around your cock… Squeezing you and making you feel good too~”

Wonwoo can only groan around the fabric, hips thrusting up into your palm.

“And I’m so wet now too… But daddy always gets me sooo wet…” You shimmy back up his body, positioning his cock at your entrance before you start to sink down slowly. “A-ah, sliding into my hot ‘lil cunt like you w-were made for me, daddy…”

The amount of expletives Wonwoo’s screamed into the soaked material is uncountable at this point, but he says a mental prayer thanking the powers up above when he’s finally fully seated in your warmth - cock already curving deliciously into your g-spot as you mewl.

“Mmh, I could cum like this… Your cock is s-so big it’s already filling me up s-so good and--and touching all the p-places inside me that make me w-wanna cum…”

You grind atop his lap, swiveling your hips before removing your bra and tossing it off to the side. “Ngh… daddy…” Your hands roam your skin, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples as you whimper and clench down onto Wonwoo’s cock harder.

“Nod once if you wanna see me, daddy~ Or nod twice if you wanna talk to me~”

Wonwoo grits his teeth - you could really be evil when you wanted to.

But he nods once, sharply, to let you know he’s not happy he can’t have both. You laugh softly in return, leaning up to remove the silk ribbon from his eyes.

He blinks rapidly to adjust to the dimmed room, eyes on your naked body in a flash as you go back to teasing yourself.

“Do you like what you see, daddy?”

Wonwoo gulps, this time nodding shakily as he watches you pinch your nipples and cup your breasts. “Bet you wanna touch me too, huh, daddy?” He narrows his eyes - silently telling you to watch yourself.

“Hmm… s’not as fun when daddy doesn’t talk to me too~”

You smile at him teasingly before you reach over to pull the wet material from between Wonwoo’s lips and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chuckling - quietly yet enough to make you shiver.

“Hah, gotta hand it to you, princess...”

He doesn’t say anything more which makes you nervous so instead, you start bouncing on his lap, fingertips on your clit as you chase your pleasure.

This won’t last much longer, you think, I gotta take what I can get.

Soft mewls spill from your lips as you maintain eye contact with him and the way he just stares at you is enough to make you cry out.

“D-daddy, d--don’t, ah, look at m-me like that…”

“Like what, princess?”

You pinch your clit, eyes clamping shut when he shifts slightly underneath you.

A choked sob bubbles up your throat when you throw your head back and the pleasure washes over you - your orgasm hitting you hard as you swivel your hips faster.

“Oho, my pretty ‘lil princess is already cumming~ Your hot ‘lil cunt is sucking my cock in deeper while you cum… Don’t you want daddy to fuck you good and hard? Feel my cock fucking you so deep you feel it in your stomach?”

“O-oh, god, daddy…!” Your thighs shake as you rub quicker circles on your clit - milking your orgasm for what it’s worth before you would give back the control to Wonwoo.

“Or maybe daddy should fuck you slow… Let you feel every inch of me when I’m sliding in and out of your pretty ‘lil cunt… Make you beg for me and crave me so fuckin’ bad, just like you did to me?”

His laugh is cruel and makes you whimper; orgasm ebbing away as your fingers slow down and your hips come to a stop.

Gulping, you know the second the locks click on the handcuffs that Wonwoo would most likely make you pay for all your teasing.

But you fish for the keys lost in the bedsheets - shaky, sticky fingers reaching above the silent male underneath you as you start to undo the locks keeping him bound to the bed.

And it doesn’t take long.

“Ah…!”

Wonwoo does the rest of the work himself, tugging himself free and maneuvering you swiftly until you’re on your back; the air knocked out of your lungs at how quickly he moved.

“Daddy, I--”

The words die on your tongue when Wonwoo pushes your legs up to your chest, not even bothering to rid himself of his boxer briefs when he sinks his cock back into you.

In this position, Wonwoo holds all the control; cock slamming into your sensitive cunt as garbled noises fall from your lips.

“D--daddy, ‘m se--sensitive… ngh…”

Your cunt is like a vice grip around his cock as he snaps his hips hard and fast - this time chasing his own pleasure after all your teasing.

In all honesty, he would’ve cum if you kept the vibrator on his body any longer and he mentallly reminds himself to not let you know how easily it affected him.

“I know you’re sensitive, princess~ Which is why you’re gonna cum for me again.”

Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, rubbing quick circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb as you scream out his name.

“Oh--oh, god! Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo!”

“That’s right. Fuckin’ scream my name, princess. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y--You! Daddy! Fuck, ah, I--I can’t, I can’t, I--mmh!”

Wonwoo already starts to feel your body tense up with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock tapping your g-spot.

“You can and you will, princess.” He mutters, eyes focused on your face that contorts in absolute bliss. “Daddy wants to feel you cumming on his cock while he fucks you nice and deep. You take me so well, princess~ Fuckin’ taking all of me in your cute ‘lil cunt.”

Tears blur your vision as the pleasure starts to wash over you a second time - nothing leaving your lips except for an alternation of ‘Wonwoo’ and ‘daddy’ as your legs shake and toes curl.

“Fuck, princess…!”

Wonwoo’s cock is forced out of you as you cum hard; squirting all over his lower half as you cry out and convulse against the sheets.

The ringing in your ears is enough to block out anything he seems to say but he’s quick to wrap a hand around his cock and tap your swollen clit as he works you through your second high.

“Aww, my good ‘lil princess is so cute when she’s squirting all over daddy~ Making a big mess, too~” Your body jolts with each tap of his cock head against your clit and it only prolongs your orgasm as you thrash against his sheets.

“Da---daddy… I, hic, ‘m sor--sorry…”

When Wonwoo feels your body start to relax after a few tense minutes, he takes in your glowing form underneath him; thighs slicked with wetness and bed sheets soaked and crumpled underneath your bodies.

In a moment of gentleness, he lets your quivering legs down, fingertips massaging your tired body as he leans over you.

His lips are ghosting across your cheek as you open your teary eyes, soft cries still on your lips when he wipes at your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You okay, princess?”

“Mm…”

“You wanna stop now? We can if you want.” His voice is barely above a whisper and the softness of it makes your body feel warm and sated when he kisses you gently. He repeats this a few more times as you catch your breath; leaving feather-light kisses all over your face as you mewl.

“You didn’t cum yet though, daddy…”

“I know, s’okay.” He smiles against your lips, “I want what you want… ‘Cause I really like you. And I’d really like to go on more dates with you, princess. And I wanna be able to tell everyone that I really like you too. And show you off to them and make them jealous that you’re mine. If you’ll let me. And learn with me.”

You giggle tiredly into his kiss, hazy eyes meeting his own.

You were happy.

And Wonwoo was too.

“Wanna start by grabbing me a glass of water from downstairs then, daddy?”

“Anything for you, my moon.”

“Does that really work?”

“What do you mean?”

“The ‘holding a cup to the door’ thing. Can you hear them?” Mingyu purses his lips at Minghao’s question.

“Not… really. Kinda just muffles it more.”

Jeonghan passes by the two currently hunched over each other in front of Wonwoo’s door; an incredulous look on his face.

“Why are the two of you listening in on them fucking? Fucking weirdos.”

Mingyu and Minghao both turn to look at the older male, lips pursed into a firm line “We’re not listening to them fucking, hyung. We’re trying to hear their conversation.”

Jeonghan laughs as he shakes his head.

“There’s absolutely no valuable conversation going on if she’s screaming ‘daddy’ so loud that Seungcheol is texting me about it from his bedroom. You should leave before Wonwoo finds out and decides to make rugs out of the two of you.”

“Ugh… Yes, hyung.”

💕

[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.

[persimmonteas]

happy railentine’s day

written for Citrus Dome server’s Lover Day collab, check out the other pieces

Word count: ~1.5k words

Pairing: denki x f!reader

Genre: soulmate mark AU (but quirks still exist), fluff and smut

CWs/tags: light electrocution, nipple play, bathroom sex, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, my editing, established relationship, dom!denki, (1) spank, praise kink

Notes: art by @annypuff, also a request for @donteathecake that devolved uwu, shoutout to @m00ns0ng​ for spitballing ideas w/ me

How it started: 

“Why are we in this sketchy ass bar for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Because nobody in their right mind would come here for Valentine’s Day. And what better way to avoid my lovely soulmate?” You retort as you take a sip of the lukewarm beer sitting in front of you. 

“I thought you didn’t have one?” Your fellow single coworker cocks an eyebrow at you. 

You grimace, pulling up your sleeve. “I do. I just like to pretend tattoo shops will take my money and laser it off.”  

Your coworker’s confusion drops the second they see your mark. “Wow, your soulmate is, uh, something, huh?” 

You release a long-suffering sigh and roll your sleeve back down. 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” You level your coworker with a deadpan expression and throw back the rest of your beer. 

A body bumps into you and when he turns to you, you freeze in horror as the words you’ve been dreading to hear spill out of his mouth. 

“Happy railentine’s day! Sorry for bumping into you. Do you want a beer? Oh, are you ok?” The blonde man waves a hand in front of your face. He looks at your coworker, who is in a similar state of shock. 

“What— why in the absolute fuck,” you hear yourself say and the admittedly pretty blonde man’s eyes widen. 

He points at you and you feel like you’ve been forcibly pulled into the spiderman meme. 

“You! You’re my soulmate!” He excitedly looks like he’s about to hug you and you almost reflexively attempt to dodge it. “Wait, I gotta tell my friends where I went but I’ll be right back!”

You groan as you slam your head into your hands. 

“Hey, he seems nice.” Your coworker shrugs. 

“Can I get a refund?” you mumble. “I cannot believe this is real. This is my life. Everybody else gets shit like I’ve been waiting for you all my life or you’re my stars and sun.” 

“He’s really cute though. I’mma go but you should talk to him! Maybe you can have a happy railentine’s day.” Your coworker cackles as they get up to leave.

How it’s going:

“Happy railentine’s day, baby,” Denki beams at you and kisses your nose. 

You suppress a laugh. 

“How many people can say their soulmark words every year?” With a cheeky grin, he wraps his arms around you. At that, you smack him.

“The people who have normal soulmark words!! There are plenty of them,” you counter as you pour out two beers. 

“Yeah, but none of them have you,” Denki says as he drops kisses on your shoulder. 

“I thought railentine’s day was for railing not sweet words,” you joke back. Every Valentine’s Day feels like your first encounter—just with better beer. He did indeed end up railing you in the bathroom of the bar after your titillating conversation about your soulmark. 

“I was joking. It was a joke! Please love me.” “Well, it’s on my fucking body so—”

“Well. I can be too.” 

You can’t bring yourself to feel any shame about your soulmark anymore with how you gushed around his cock that day.

Denki shocking you while kissing your shoulder startles you out of your reminiscing. 

“My bad, baby. You just know how to light me up.” You giggle as he presses an apology kiss to your pulse point. 

“C’mon, let’s go celebrate railentine’s day.” You grab his hand and drag him to the bathroom. 

You can feel the stars in Denki’s eyes as he follows you. “This is why I love you,” he rasps as he backs you up against the counter. 

“Brings back memories, huh?” His hands palm your ass, kneading as he kisses you. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum, entangling your hands into his hair. A rough pull forces a hiss out of him. 

“Rude. I remember being much more in charge that time,” he pouts, caging you in between his toned arms and pulling off your shirt. He tosses it somewhere and immediately drags his hands over your hardening nipples. 

“I’m certainly not stopping you, babe,” you tease.  

Your voice wavers when Denki lowers his head to suck on your nipples, his hold on your hips almost bruising. With a half-lidded gaze, he skims his fingers over the trails of saliva he left on your tits, softly shocking your sensitized nipples. 

“Fuck, Kami!” you toss your head back. From the curve of your neck to your glistening tits to how you’re soaked through your sleep shorts and panties, Denki can’t decide where he wants to keep his gaze. 

“Nuh huh,” he disagrees with a hard pull of your nipples. “What’s my name, love?” 

“Daddy, please fuck me.” You give Denki your best pleading face. 

As much as Denki would love to say he can hold out on you, the truth is he’s totally whipped. He knows it. You know it. You watch your boyfriend cave as he starts rushing to tug off clothes.

“Now, this is really starting to feel like a flashback,” Denki chuckles as he cups your throat and chin, forcing you to look into the mirror. With a shove, he forces you to drop your elbows onto the counter, arching your back towards him. 

You lean into his touch as he glides his pretty hands all over your body. 

Whimpers pour out of your mouth when he slides two fingers inside you without resistance.

“Your pussy is sopping wet,” he remarks with far too much nonchalance, working you open and dragging his fingers over your slit to pinch at your clit. “Keep those legs spread open for me. Good girl.” 

Denki loves watching you in the mirror. Your mussed hair, bright eyes and heaving chest is one of his favorite sights. 

You watch him suck his fingers clean of your taste and moan, desperate to have him inside of you. In an attempt to speed him up, you wiggle your ass at him. 

Denki smacks your ass cheek with enough force that you just know it’ll bruise tomorrow. He soothes the sting with a caress. 

“So impatient. You want to cum on a fat cock that badly, huh?” He taunts, gliding his cock over your cunt. You bite back a bratty comment and get on your tiptoes and part your legs, spreading yourself open more.

Denki groans at the sight and stops teasing with a slide inside of you, tweaking one of your nipples in his hand. Your warm walls clenching down on his thick cock elicits a moan from both of you. 

He babbles about how you’re such a good girl for daddy. How you’re so tight and how he loves splitting you open. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god, ’m going to cum,” you pant, grinding against him, feeling the telltale warmth of your orgasm approaching. Your pussy clamping down on him makes Denki lean more weight against you, pressing you into the counter, as he fucks you harder.

“I love cumming over your cock, daddy,” you encourage with a whine. Your pussy is still twitching from your orgasm aftershocks. 

Denki buries himself with a deep thrust and spills his cum inside of you with a gasp. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. I’m so glad I went to that seedy bar that one day.” He kisses the back of your neck and pulls out, hauling himself off of you. Denki grabs you before you buckle to the ground. 

“Oh my god, Kami. Me too.”

You stumble over to the shower, groping to find the knob. 

“Are you good?” He watches with an amused expression. 

You wave a hand at him. “Yeah, can you go grab beer? I think we deserve shower beers.” 

“God, I love you.”