#'but out of the simple fact that these might not be compatible with your shit in really serious ways'

[confinesofmy]

linux is kind of cool i guess but right now i'm dealing with a situation where i might have to factory reset my steam deck because i wanted to change the colour of my taskbar

[inkblooming]

The conflict inherent to Stoliz is a feature, not a bug.

To preface: these are two demons who want to be together. That really isn't in question. They keep pictures of each other on their phones, help each other out when it comes to what's important (their daughters), and save each other's asses. Stolas thinks Blitzø's jokes are the height of comedy, and Blitzø has in Stolas someone who appreciates his fascinating attempts at humor; this, more than anything else, speaks to a base compatibility.

Why aren't they together is the question, and, happily, it leads to an interesting answer! If you're holding your couple apart, there should be good reasons for that. Nothing turns one off a couple like forced conflict. If conflict is convoluted, one can start questioning: why are these characters so incompetent? If they can't figure out something so simple how can we expect them to navigate an established relationship? Stoliz, well... they have so much shit to navigate I really can't blame them for fucking it up.

Yes, there's the external pressures. Striker is a reflection of it; he highlights the class divide between Blitzø and Stolas every time he comes on screen. Something Blitzø is deeply aware of and Stolas is coming to realize.

There's also major personality characteristics that mesh so poorly one might want to bang their head against the wall. Luckily, these characteristics are actually things that Blitzø and Stolas need to grow out of to be more functional for themselves. The fact that it will lead to them being capable of holding a relationship together is a sweet consequence of the fact, and, if I dare say so, damn good writing.

Stolas is a character who is haunted by inaction. He's passive and has been since childhood. His relationship with Stella is a reflection of that. It's not something to blame him for, but it doesn't serve him in getting what he needs. It makes him fairly miserable, in fact. The show isn't subtle about it; he needs happy pills to get through the day.

You can see this trait come out in his relationship with Blitzø when, confronted with his obligations, he hides behind a menu at Ozzie's to avoid dealing with the repercussions of standing up for himself and his wants. This is something he's been working on, and we can see it in his relationship with Stella: against his father's wishes and royal society, he demands a divorce and engages in a not-relationship with Blitzø. This puts him in active danger; Stella wants his head. Things with Octavia become more complicated. And yet: he needs to do it, in order to make life more than merely bearable for himself.

Stolas is also someone who is not great at reading other people's emotional states. His relationship conflicts with Octavia are a reflection of that. There are multiple episodes where he doesn't catch onto her sadness or dislike. But he always, always, apologies and attempts to empathize the second he is made aware of his ignorance. He loves very deeply and very much, and he wants what's best for those he cares about. Octavia is a teenager, so it's understandable that she has trouble conveying what she needs from her father as her family fractures around her. But this brings us to...

Blitzø. Because Blitzø struggles heavily with communicating his needs. Worse, he seems to only be semi-aware of what his needs are. He shies away from even acknowledging he has a thing for Stolas, because it would force him to acknowledge other things that are hard for him: that he's vulnerable, that he's hopeful, that he wants to try despite everything. He holds everything in, denying himself, until it bursts out or reveals itself in twisted up ways. Such as obsessing over Millie and Moxxie's loving relationship, something he can't bring himself to admit he wants, or his near breakdown in the car after Ozzie's, where he finally reveals parts of himself he's been holding separate from Stolas.

Blitzø also has severe self-worth issues and barricades his heart behind two tons of concrete. It's not something to blame him for, but it doesn't serve him in getting what he needs. He almost requires that Stolas be a towering figure incapable of getting hurt, someone who only wants to use him for sexual favors, because it confirms his worldview. The belief that he's not able to hold a loving relationship and that everything he touches is made a mess. We hear him tell Fizz that Stolas has been asking over him, trying to connect, but Blitzø in unwilling to consider positive meanings for any of it. He’s stuck inside his bubble of critical reflection.

Mid-way through season two, and we've reached a delicious crossroads. Stolas is aware, now, that their arrangement has been hurting Blitzø, because of his outburst after their date at Ozzie's. He's been reflecting on it ever since. We can glean this through his songs, and the way he's been looking into obtaining a crystal for Blitzø that will break-off their arrangement all throughout season two.

Neither of these two are good at being upfront and honest. Their text-log that's shown following Stolas' hospitalization is a lesson in writing miscommunication and fits their particular brands of communicative failure perfectly (it's a bit of a crime they're so blink-and-you-miss-it). They've been avoiding the very real break in their relationship following Ozzie's... until. Now. Soon. Stolas is going to give Blitzø the crystal. And it’s going to be a hard tilt into something real that frankly they very likely are not ready for.

It’s prime drama. It’s necessary tension. And it’s compelling as fuck. Both characters are sketched out nicely, and it tickles to see them bump up against each other. It's because they're both so fully realized, with their own individual flaws, that they're able to have this conflict. I love them for those flaws. I love them because it’s a struggle to get on the same page. It does not come naturally, and yet they keep trying because they’re pulled to each other. Mwah. The effort, the mutual effort, they have to put in makes it more special.

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2009): Killing Adventure

Br1: Killing Adventure

Main author(s): Ruba

Release date: September 5th, 2009 (database upload)

Version(s) played: ???

Required port compatibility: ZDoom

Levels: 32 (30 + 2 standard)

Killing Adventure… confuses me. At first glance, it looks like a typical 1994 slop made by a twat who has more farts in his head than brain matter. But something tells me there is more to it than it shows. It might actually be self-aware Troll WAD made to piss people off.

Is it true though? From what I’ve heard about its author, he was definitely a troll in the community. But I must play this WAD to be entirely sure about it, so let’s get into it.

Starting with me, feeling like WADs from the mid-90s’ looked better than Killing Adventure. I do realize that the maps were done like this on purpose, but it doesn’t change the fact that they look overly basic, stale, dull, and other synonyms of the word boring.

I liked the music, though. At least half of it feels relaxing to listen to (MAP11 might have the best track), although, there are also tracks that are more blood-pumping.

I hope you like patience because this WAD will test it. Although the maps are simple and I don’t think you will get lost playing them, almost all of the maps seem to feature one, rather small square/rectangle/whatever-shaped area that constantly repeats itself and has the same roster of enemies in (probably) almost every single one of them. You might feel like you are running in circles.

Thankfully, there are maps that create shortcuts after reaching a key or some other important place. That’s always nice in a WAD.

Some of the maps tend to be more interesting than others. Jail for instance will kill all enemies in cages when you reach the end of it, so, if you want to, you can spice it up by ignoring everything on your path (except barrels of course) and just run to the exit.

Hundred Demon Fortress (I’m slightly changing titles to be written correctly) is basically a pun to the fact, that you fight one hundred Pinkies in the area next to the start.

Death Row Ultima, meanwhile, makes you choose the correct switch to open the door with Romero’s head, otherwise, it sends an Arch-vile squadron on your ass. Still a better ending for the WAD than another Icon of Shit.

There are also maps that use Keens either in the form of secret-hunting or just stagnating your progress until you kill all of them, with Column Shift Punch Halls being the biggest example of the mechanic related to them.

Also, three of the maps from this WAD use fans’ favorite – chess-moving floor filth.

vomit noises

sigh

I don’t think it’s worth talking about how funny this WAD is since it’s yet another case of LUL SOS RANDUMP crap that most of the Mockaward winners at this point did.

I’m gonna say it now, but Killing Adventure feels like Mock 2 lite. I only watched MtPain’s April Fools’ review on the latter, but I felt like the WAD was making fun of many elements that appeared in the Doom maps back then (hell, even now), focusing on one thing per map. This WAD, as I said earlier, most of the time is the same thing with one, small area repeating itself ad nauseam. Its joke, at best, became stale after MAP11. And I’m surprised that I managed to properly play these maps twice without falling asleep.

Most of the time, the WAD was rather easy, but there were moments when it got hard (not for a good reason of course). Arch-viles on Grey and Easy smell of lots of bullshit (I got lucky on my second try), and Pyramidal Hell might look like hell, but if you know how to get to the exit, you can just grab an invun and run there (secret exit is behind the regular one).

And, uhm… I think that’s it. Killing Adventure tries to be funny, yet now that I think about it, it fails to deliver on that. It fails as regular WAD, a joke WAD, and it’s basically a worse version of Mock 2 on every level. You might get a chuckle out of it when you play it the first time, but after that, there is nothing to laugh at.

Let’s hope that’s the last poor-quality WAD from 2009. Luckily, the next Doom map on the list promises something better.

Don’t read my next review if you are afraid of clowns.

[evesaintyves]

I really disagree with the post about Teddy. You really think he’d be mad at his parents for not staying at home while all their friends and fellow Order members go and give their lives for the future of their world? Especially when he grows up around Harry and the rest. Children fought and died but they shouldn’t have because they had him? I actually hate the whole Lupin asking Tonks to stay at home. They met as part of the Order, and she was an auror. Becoming a mother doesn’t change that.

hi anon! i'm sorry you felt you had to send this anonymously, because i'd be happy to have this conversation with you in a way that isn't quite so one-sided.

first, let me make something clear: i'm fine with whatever your take on Teddy Lupin's psychology is. i am 100% not interested in pinning down some kind of absolute truth about Teddy, Tonks, Lupin, or any other character. i think that's a limiting approach to writing about people. human behavior is a complex, multifactorial, emergent process that's sometimes difficult to predict or explain. this is one reason why i rarely post or talk about "headcanons" - i'm open to the idea of multiple, even contradictory, interpretations that are equally valid, equally compatible with the information available in canon.

my interest in is storytelling. i want to read and write stories about what it's like to be a person. all these characters - especially remadora and teddy, about whom there is limited and sometimes unreliable information in canon - are full of possibilities and opportunities for extrapolating what we do know about them into a story about what being human was like for them.

being angry with your parents for doing things they thought were entirely justifiable at the time is, for many people, an aspect of the human condition.

but let's talk specifics. the truth is that we don't know, canonically, how teddy lupin feels about being orphaned. to me, that means it's fair game for all kinds of interpretations. now, i did not write the original post (gonna tag @jilylicious to chime in on this if they want since it's their work and i'm sure they have their own ideas) but i'd like to address your points and tell you why i think it's a perfectly valid interpretation of Teddy and his relationship with his parents' memory.

You really think he’d be mad at his parents for not staying at home while all their friends and fellow Order members go and give their lives for the future of their world?

sure, why not? Teddy isn't a Remadora fan on tumblr, he isn't necessarily familiar with and sympathetic to his parents' story in the way we are. he's a kid who has to come to terms with the fact that his parents left him with his grandma as a tiny baby and went to fight in a battle that killed them. that's fucking unfair to him. he's allowed to feel all kinds of ways about that.

what do we think an abstract concept like "the future of their world" means to teddy? as a young child, probably not much, right? the capacity to even understand something like that - as a vague abstraction mostly concerning the well-being of a bunch of other people - probably wouldn't even develop in teddy until at least around the time he went to hogwarts (and i am not about to make this shit even longer by citing child development theories, but you're welcome to look it up). meanwhile, his whole childhood, he's dealing with the consequences of his parents' choice, forming an identity that includes "my parents left me with my grandmother one night so they could fight in a war and never came back," and probably developing all kind of feelings about that, right? abandonment, whatever the circumstances and mechanics behind it, is hard on kids and has knock-on effects that can be lifelong: issues with trust and attachment to other people, feelings of worthlessness, fear of intimacy and commitment. those things can be forged in early childhood and it's not as simple as being talked out of them with some explanation of why it had to be that way.

is Teddy's life actually even better than if his parents hadn't gone off to die? maybe. Teddy might or might not feel that it is. we don't really have any evidence that Lupin and Tonks's participation in the battle had much of an effect on the outcome. one or both of them might have stayed home and the battle might have been won anyway and he'd be chilling with them right now. the idea of his life if the battle had been lost is another abstraction based on political and social developments that mostly happened before he was born. understandable for young Teddy, and even adult Teddy, not to really grasp all the could-have-beens there. even with the war won, Teddy may have grown up experiencing the social stigma of being the child of a famous werewolf who's not even around to help him through it. reasonable and okay to be angry about that, and understandable to still resent your parents for putting you in that situation even if you agree that it had to be that way.

i would argue that, however childlike, irrational, or self-absorbed Teddy's early feelings about his own trauma are, they're probably going to inform his ideas about his parents for a long time. like, have you come to a rational, all-perspectives understanding of all the ideas you developed in childhood? about your earliest sense that life was unfair? i don't think everyone does, at least not without a lot of difficult work. maybe he comes to a fuller understanding later in life. maybe he decides that he agrees that it had to happen but he is still plagued by this anger and hurt that won't be argued with. i think this is a pretty relatable idea. things can be true but not feel true. things can make sense but you're still sad and mad about them.

Especially when he grows up around Harry and the rest.

he does grow up around Harry! and Harry lost his parents too, so maybe he's in a unique position to counsel teddy about that - but Harry's situation is markedly different from Teddy's, isn't it?

Harry's parents went into hiding as a family to protect him. they didn't leave him with a relative in a safe house and carry on with their Order duties. James didn't send Lily into hiding with Harry while he kept fighting. the fact that they stood their ground together and died there to protect him is central not just to Harry's story but to the entire HP universe.

how might Teddy feel about the differences between their two stories? maybe fine. maybe it wouldn't even occur to him. maybe he'd feel cheated and abandoned by his parents who left him and went off to fight instead - yes, Teddy was one reason they felt they had to fight, but might Teddy not see it as them going to lay their lives down for Harry and for a cause? imagine how that might inform the way he feels about Harry. Teddy isn't required, especially as a kid, to think about this in a way that we feel is rational or sympathetic to his parents.

even if Harry does his best to present the story to Teddy in a way that's sympathetic to Teddy and his parents, Harry probably isn't the only source from which Teddy is going to hear this stuff. it's gonna be in history books, periodicals, fictionalized retellings, everyone's personal Where Were You On May 2nd story - and those accounts are likely to frame what happened as a bunch of people dying for Harry Potter and the fate of the wizarding world. not Teddy being able to live a happier life. that might be difficult for a kid to grapple with, no?

finally, Harry didn't raise Teddy. Andromeda Tonks did. how do you imagine SHE feels about what Teddy's parents did? what Lupin did? she might very well have seen leaving to fight in the battle as another attempt by Lupin to go redeem himself with a hero's death instead of facing his responsibility for Tonks and Teddy (and, honestly, i think that's a possibility worth exploring in fiction about Lupin and his motivations). how might that have filtered down to Teddy and his understanding of his parents? Andromeda is grieving while she raises her orphaned grandbaby, and i bet she has her own anger and resentment and despair to deal with there - that's understandable whether you agree with her conclusions or not. it's not hard to imagine Teddy overhearing some bitter asides from Andromeda, or picking up on the tension when she answers his questions about his parents.

Children fought and died but they shouldn’t have because they had him?

i mean, you're not going to catch me arguing that children should have died instead of Lupin and Tonks. i have mixed feelings about the choice they made that could be its own whole long post, but they're irrelevant here.

Teddy doesn't have to feel that way to be mad that his parents left him to go die. he also doesn't really have to give a shit about those long-dead children - another possibly hard-to-understand abstraction. he doesn't even have to think his parents should have stayed in order to be justifiably angry that they left! even if Teddy agrees they had no choice he can still be fucking pissed off at them! the dissonance between these ideas is probably pretty distressing, in fact!

feelings are like that sometimes. relationships with parents are like that sometimes. grief and feelings of abandonment don't always listen to logical arguments. that's what makes this take interesting and relatable, to me. being a person is fucking messy as shit. i'm sure there's an interesting story to be told about Teddy... being fine with his parents' deaths or whatever, but it's not any more representative of the spectrum of human emotions and trauma responses than the ideas the OP wrote about Teddy.

I actually hate the whole Lupin asking Tonks to stay at home. They met as part of the Order, and she was an auror. Becoming a mother doesn’t change that.

i think that's valid! i totally understand it. i think the way the situation was written reveals a lot about JKR's ideas about gender roles and parenting. i have different ideas about those things, which is at least partially down to the generation i belong to and my status as a queer person and a non-parent. i also really like interpretations of Tonks as a soldier who's as committed to the cause as any of her male contemporaries.

but this is one of those times where, you know, there isn't necessarily a wrong answer. just to play the devils advocate, i could argue that Lupin asking Tonks to stay makes as much sense in-universe as any alternative interpretation: we're we're talking about two people in a pretty heteronormatively-written universe set in the 1990s. Lupin was born in the 60s and might have had the same kind of internalized sexist background noise as, you know, everybody else. Tonks already, canonically, put her career on the line by marrying Lupin and having his baby. they've both been hiding from the fighting for most of her pregnancy. (which, if you want to go down a rabbit hole, might be another reason for Teddy not to understand their choice - it was okay to abstain from the world-bettering while he was a fetus but once he was born they changed their minds?) if one of them is going to stay and be the surviving parent of a three-week-old baby i guess it might as well be the one that's breastfeeding him. we don't get to see a lot of Tonks being an auror and resistance fighter or hear a lot of her feelings about it in canon, especially after Teddy is conceived. whatever we may surmise about her identity as an auror vs her identity as a mother and all the other factors that would play into how that situation went down - it's just surmising, it's subjective interpretation, and there are so many different storytelling paths to follow from it!

maybe you should write an AU where that conversation goes down differently, or a post-war Tonks-in-wizard-heaven monologue about how she felt about it, or just a gritty breakdown of how it might have actually happened in the light of your thoughts about Tonks's character! if you disagree with all of my conjecture here, maybe you should write a deep dive into Teddy's process of grieving and understanding his parents! fascinating! this is what i mean when i say it's not about the truth, it's about storytelling: there is so much more art and wonder and discovery in exploring all these possibilities than in haggling over which possibility is Correct.

Edit: read the original anon's very thoughtful responses here:

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

[elminx]

Astrology 102: Synastry

Synastry is the study of how any two (or more) individual's natal horoscopes interact with and affect one another. This is where (in my opinion) a lot of the meat of astrology lies since we don't exist in a vacuum but are, instead, always under the influence of those that raised us and those with which we share our closest relationships as adults.

There are a couple of base principles that you need to have mastered before synastry will mean anything to you: the signs, the planets, and the aspects. Without this basic framework (what I am calling Astrology 101 here), you will not be able to synthesize the elements needed to understand how we work with and against our others. Synastry is more than Sun Sign Compatibility This is the biggest issue that I find with a lot of modern American astrology in general - you (and your Others) are more than just your Sun sign. All books that focus exclusively on Sun Sign synastry are, to some degree, complete horse shit. You can learn a lot through them about how each sign interacts with one another - but - you are more than your Sun Sign. At the most basic level, you are (up to*) THREE signs that all hold potentially equal weight in your personality: your Sun Sign, Your Moon Sign, and your Rising Sign (aka the Ascendant). So, you read a book that says Taurus** gets along with other earth signs and water signs best. Cool, this is true (to a degree - that is definitely oversimplified but bear with me here). But what if your Moon is in Aries? Aries may not like the earth and water signs nearly as much as Taurus does - in fact - Aries is naturally at odds with (aka square) to one earth sign: Capricorn and one water sign: Cancer. (I'm a double Taurus - Sun and Ascendant) Indeed, the opposite is also true. An Aries is going to get along with fire and air signs most easily. But Taurus doesn't like fire and air signs as much as Aries and is naturally at odds (again square) to one fire sign: Leo and one air sign: Aquarius. So in this case, the astrological native (me) if likely to get along somewhat well is some earth signs (Taurus and Virgo), some water signs (Pisces and Scorpio), some fire signs (Aries and Sagittarius), and some air signs (Gemini and Libra) but get along less well, on average with Cancer, Leo, Capricorn, and Aquarius. You can presume from this information that I might favor the earth and water signs on this list due to my double Taurus Sun and Ascendant.

But Wait, There's More!

Again, keeping with myself as an example: does this play out in real life that way?

Sorta...

Truthfully, I favor earth, water, and air signs mostly and have more issues with fire signs on average. I find myself much more comfortable with somebody who has a fire moon sign than a fire sun sign. I actually have a large number of people in my life with Cancer and Leo in their charts and although I find these people challenging at times, I enjoy the challenge. (I tend to appreciate Capricorn and Aquarius less though I am learning to like those challenges, too.) Some people like complicated relationships and some people don't. This is something that can sometimes be spotted in the natal horoscope but also has a lot to do with how that person was raised, their life story, and personal traumas. You cannot tell for sure if somebody likes challenging or simple relationships without asking them. If you don't have a lot of personal awareness, you may not truly be aware if YOU like challenging or simple relationships.

A quick astrological rule of thumb though: the more complicated the personal natal chart, the more chances that the person will pursue challenging relationships. It is believed that we do this because we seek to understand ourselves through others and people with complicated charts have more to understand about themselves. More about that later. What Makes a Simple Chart Vs. A Complicated Chart

I will write a post about this on its own but here are a few key things to look for.

A person who has the Sun, Moon, and Ascendant all in compatible elements (earth and water - or - air and fire) is more simple in the sense that their lights all agree on what type of people they would feel most comfortable interacting with.

A person who has the Sun, Moon, and Ascendant in non-compatible elements will be inherently more complicated as they will need to fulfill the differing needs of these lights.

To a lesser degree, the elements of the other personal planets (Mercury, Venus, and Mars) have an impact on the type of people you will be most comfortable with as well

Aspects play a role in the complexity of a chart. Conjunctions, sextiles, and trines are considered easier in that they (most often) share compatible elements. Squares, semi-sextiles, and inconjunctions are more complicated as they (most often) share less compatible elements.

Though oppositions share compatible elements, they are considered complicated aspects.

The more complicated aspects have in your chart, the more complicated your chart will be and the inverse goes for the easier aspects.

Synastry between two people is the study of the way that the two persons' individual charts interact in aspect with one another

Now that we have a base sense of how the individual natal chart might cause us to seek out easy or more complicated relationships, we need to define what is a more easy or complicated relationship. This is done by sign, as I touched on above, but it is also done by aspect. The art of synastry is comparing the natal charts of two or more individuals. Just as you would in a personal horoscope, you look at the aspect (to the degree) between each planet in one person's natal chart and each planet in the other person's natal chart. For basic synastry, we will focus primarily on the Rising Sign and the personal planets as these make up our "personality". The lights (Sun, Moon, and Ascendant) are weighted more heavily here but one should not discount the elements and aspects involving Mercury, Venus, and Mars. Two individuals with compatible Mercury signs (Mercury trine Mercury is the perfect example here) may be able to talk through conflicts that arise through their other planets in a way that individuals with incompatible Mercury signs cannot. Synastry is big picture thinking - it involves synthesizing all of the individual aspects experienced between two individuals and seeing the overall picture.

Depending on the type of relationship, different aspects will indicate compatibility or not I'm not going to go into the specifics of all of this here as this is complicated and involves years of study. But, to keep it extremely simple: if you work with somebody being able to communicate with them (Mercury) and the ability to sync work cycles (Mars) will likely be the most important to have a good working relationship. If you live with somebody, how they feel most comfortable (the Moon) and how they react when they are stressed out (Venus and Mars) will show a lot of whether you are comfortable sharing a space with somebody long term. Intimacy, both sexual and emotional, involves a combination of the Moon, Venus, and Mars or Mercury if you want to talk about it.

I could and should write a post entirely about this at some point. The closer a relationship you have with somebody, the more that the overall synastry between you two matters.

For a casual feel-good friendship or occasional work relationship - one or two feel-good aspects between two individuals can keep the relationship running smoothly. On the other hand, if you live with an individual, you may need to have a lot of overall chart compatibility so that you will stay in alignment with one another. You would likewise need to have a better overall synastry with a close work partner that you work with on a daily or weekly basis. Big "R" relationships will work in a similar way: a simple hookup or short term fling can be sustained for a time off of one or two favorable aspects (Venus conjunct Mars, for instance) but a marriage may need to have multiple strong aspects (likely easy and complicated) to work for the long haul.

Lastly

Sometimes Synastry Doesn't Matter

If somebody doesn't want to like you - for whatever reason - synastry doesn't count for shit. I've learned this the hard way. The person I know who hates me the most has the best synastry with my chart that I have ever seen. I'm not kidding. We should be besties forever by the numbers.

Instead, she finds me endlessly threatening. She has been waging a psychological war against me basically since the day that we met.

If somebody isn't interested, good astrology doesn't mean shit.

* theoretically your Sun, Moon, and Ascendant could all fall in the same sign **I am going to use myself as an example since it is the chart with which I am the most familiar

Do you like my work?   You can support me by Buying Me a Ko-Fi or Commission Me to write a natal report for you.

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[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.

[jaskiersvalley]

Hair of the Dog

The problem with having a goat as a pet was that Eskel had a goat as a pet. It was usually wonderful, Lil Bleater was a menace and Eskel loved her for it. Alas, some days she was a little more than he bargained for. Visiting Geralt on the farm was always a delight, it was one of the few places Bleats could explore without a leash and Eskel knew she was safe.

All in all it was a great day, a rarity for the whole extended family to get together. Geralt had Yennefer and Jaskier with him, they were playing pass the parcel with Ciri, except whenever they unwrapped her, it was always a dirty nappy rather than a fun treat under her layers. How Eskel ended up with a family where both his brothers had two partners was a mystery, it was perhaps why he was still a bachelor with only Lil Bleater as his companion, Lambert and Geralt had soaked up all the appeal for themselves and left none for Eskel.

"Where are the Gremlins?" Eskel asked, looking around. The Gremlins were also known as Lambert, Aiden and Cahir. One at a time and they were manageable but the three together wreaked unknown havoc and destroyed an alarming number of clothes between them. If they ever wore safety pins through clothes, Eskel knew it wasn't for aesthetics at all.

"Last I heard they were heading for the barn. Cahir was going to see whether the new pony is ready to be worked yet." Somehow Geralt sounded resigned and they all knew that while the trio might have looked at the gelding, they were most definitely going to be making out or more in one of the empty stalls.

Rolling his eyes, Eskel nodded. "I'm not risking that. Tell them I said goodbye and that Lambert still owes me a drink next week, will you?" He clicked his tongue and watched as Lil Bleater blatantly ignored him in favour of hopping over puddles. Just because she was having too much fun and still full of energy despite a whole day of charging around didn't mean she got to keep going. Resigned to his fate of chasing his goat in order to get her home, Eskel lumbered off, trying to look like he wasn't approaching her with intent. Needless to say, it didn't work. With expert ease Lil Bleater avoided him, bounding just out of reach. Even worse, he brothers were watching and Eskel wanted to growl at them that they might as well help if they were going to watch. Thankfully he managed to grab his wayward goat, only for her to protest in the worst possible way, she threw herself onto the ground. Normally Eskel wouldn't mind but she chose to roll in a puddle, her white fur soaking in the muddy water and staining it.

"Well shit."

Dripping goat firmly leashed, Eskel stared at her. She watched him unrepentantly for a moment before trying to nibble at her leash. Eskel had learned the hard way that he needed a metal chain leash for her, nothing else survived her incessant chomping. There was no way he could take her home like that, and hosing her down wasn't going to be much good as she's just drip more water in the car and make it smell even more of wet goat.

Thankfully he always had a towel or two in the boot so Eskel could pat her mildly dry but the puddle hadn't been simple mud and water, only heightening the stench. Thinking about his poor tub, Eskel knew he wouldn't be able to give Bleats a bath. The one time he had tried, he'd needed to buy a new shower curtain and invest in some repairs to the tub. Little goat hooves were not compatible with his bathroom. Stashing her in her travel crate, Eskel pulled his phone out and searched for possible solutions. The most sensible was a pet groomer, alas the three numbers he tried all refused to deal with a goat. Some days Eskel cursed himself for not having a more traditional pet.

"You trying to get a groomer?" Cahir sidled up to him, eyes glinting with the promise of mischief.

"Yeah, but it's not like anyone wants to bathe a goat." Not that Eskel was bitter. He didn't expect Cahir to laugh.

"You just haven't asked the right one. Come on, I'll introduce you to someone who'll help. Just follow my bike."

It was easier said than done. While Eskel had heard stories from Lambert about the strange love affair Cahir had with his bike, it was a whole different thing to see it. Having witnessed it, Eskel had to wonder whether there were four in that relationship rather than three as he'd originally thought.

Hair of the Dog looked like a bit of a shithole if Eskel was honest. It was out in a small industrial park near a village, wooden cladding faded and looking in desperate need of a paint. Helmet under his arm, Cahir barged in without a care for the sign that declared the place closed.

"Scales!" He hollered, impatiently holding the door open for Eskel. "Got you a client."

Not quite knowing what to expect, Eskel's eyes widened when a man larger than him appeared, scowling at Cahir.

"What did I tell you about my opening hours? And fucking hell what is that stench?"

Cahir leaned against the wall with a shit eating grin and gestured towards Eskel and Lil Bleater knowingly.

"That's a goat." It was possibly the dumbest thing anyone could have said.

"No, I'm a human called Eskel," Eskel shot back, a little irked.

The laugh was warm and genuine as the owner of the grooming parlour caught on. "Letho. Who's your stinky companion?"

Somehow Eskel found himself charmed by the fact Letho didn't baulk at the fact he was being presented with a goat. He even invited Eskel to stay and watch the whole process of washing and drying his pet. What struck Eskel was how gentle he was through it all, talking to Bleats as much as he talked to Eskel.

"Wouldn't have clocked you as a dog groomer," Eskel admitted while Lil Bleater was enjoying her second rinse.

"Didn't peg you as a goat owner."

"Touche. You like dogs?" Which was a ridiculous thing to ask, given that Letho's work involved a lot of dogs and possibly a few cats. However, Letho shook his head.

"They're alright. But I wouldn't own one."

"Cats?"

"Guess again."

Eskel squinted at Letho. "I can't really say I can picture you with a parrot."

Another laugh and Eskel found himself quite fond of the raw honesty in it. He waited patiently for an answer though.

"Tell you what-" Letho suggested, "-let me finish up with my last client and then I can show you, if you're interested. It's a snake."

"I only inspect trouser snakes on third date," Eskel said, peering around. "If I had known you'd had other clients, I would have happily waited."

The spray of water was playfully turned on him, barely missing him. "It's you, you numpty. I'm closed on Tuesdays, that's admin day." A soft flush spread across Eskel's cheeks at that and Letho continued, "If I put Gully down my trousers, I don't think she'd ever forgive me. And I don't think she'd fit. She's a reticulated python."

"As long as she doesn't eat Bleats, I think we're good." Eskel had no idea about snakes but, given the size of Letho, he could imagine him with a large snake, no pun intended.

In the silence that fell on them, Eskel looked around again with a frown. "Did Cahir go?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, quite thrilled at the prospect of having a fluffy goat stepping out of the dryer soon, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.

"You owe me a drink. Maybe two. We told you you'll like him."

Groaning, Letho threw the note away but not before Eskel saw.

"That sounded ominous."

"The Three Fucketeers have been trying to set me up for a while. I resisted. Guess they win."

Grinning, Eskel shrugged. "They don't have to know that, do they?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.ion out no matter how hidden. Which led Eskel to the conclusion that if he couldn't beat them, they could join them. It was very unlikely they'd want graphic details so, with great confidence, Eskel met Letho's rather large snake. And he met Gully too.

[rurpleplayssims]

Zoey didn't like the way he'd rolled his eyes at her and she also hated how rationally calm he was. She hated how calm he was, she'd been expecting him to run out of the door as soon as Madeleine had been in her arms, but instead she'd been surprised by his mature reaction.

Was she the childish one?

"You don't have to be mean, y'know" she muttered.

Tyler barked a half laugh at her, he was fed up her childishness and this was why he'd doubted Althea's assurances that Zoey was able to see the wider picture outside her own feelings.

"Me, mean?! You looked in a mirror and seen how you've treated me recently?!" He told her, arms crossed and scowling at her.

"How we've both treated ourselves? Why do you keep trying to stir up a fight? I was being perfectly kind and polite and you have to add poison to the mix!"

"That's not true!" Zoey yelped, colour flooding to her cheeks.

Dammit girl, how can you keep messing this up?!

He was right but she didn't want to let him know that. Time and time again she'd tried to be the mature one but the truth was they were as bad as each other.

Something inside her always wanted to fight Tyler, was it because she blamed him in some degree?

Or was she projecting her own anger at him instead of herself?

"Cut the shit Zoey, now what did you want to discuss or did you want to speak to me privately so you could tell the others I started the fight?"

"You do start the fights!" she protested.

"In every aspect of our relationship, you always want to play the victim card" he muttered. "But we're both to blame and I'm fed up with discussing it all the time!"

Zoey huffed.

Tyler continued. "And the simple fact that you cannot take a simple compliment tells me all I need to know! You still want me Zoey."

Zoey gasped in shock "Wha-?!"

Tyler nodded but he looked unhappy, not bragging as he spoke.

"I still care a great deal for you too Zoey, even with all the pain that's happened between us. It's still all far too raw and I'm not sure things will ever be the same between us. And it's not because you fell pregnant, it's how we both handled things badly.

"I want to be there for Madeleine, as that was what you requested. I don't think we should ever get together, as you said when you broke us up.

"We aren't compatible, not matter how hot I think you are."

Zoey shook her head in disbelief, outraged at what Tyler was suggesting. She didn't want to be with him! How could he suggest something so...so ridiculous!

She didn't think he was hot...anymore!

Tyler closed his eyes sadly for a second before he spoke. "I'm going to say bye to Madeleine and the others, and I'll head back home."

Zoey had moved away before he'd even opened his mouth.

He heard approaching footsteps behind him and something told him before he saw, that it was Althea.

"I tried" he said, feeling broken inside.

He was trying his best, he really was. Zoey was just making things so fucking difficult!

"I know" Althea said kindly and he heard the mild annoyance in her tone that was aimed at her roommate which was confirmed with her next words. "I might just agree with you on this one."

"Madeleine was looking at you just now" Althea added encouragingly.

Tyler felt his heart warm as he looked at his daughter in her arms.

"I'll admit that you were right on one thing" Tyler said as he turned around and gave his daughter a cuddle.

"I'm pleased I met Madeleine, and I think I might just do anything for her...except being with her mother."

Are you quite sure on that Tyler? Going by your wants, you do want her mother... Although I disapprove of this relationship now!

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Mission // Spencer Reid x Reader

Sooooo this was SUPPOSE to be a blurb for @andiebeaword BUT it ended up being much longer than that, my bad.

Summary - Spencer and Reader must act like a married couple at a party in order to get information on a hitman. They may do more than needed to prove being a married couple.

Word count - 2.7k

Prompts - "If we die, I'm going to kill you." ~~~ "You have a dirty mind." ~~~ "These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." ~~~ "Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."

It was a well-known fact that I loved partnering with Spencer. We could always joke around and make eachother feel better, even when working the bad cases. But I feel like this was a little ridiculous.

"Are you shitting me?" The words slipped from my mouth so easily, which I immediatly regretted. Spencer gave me *the look* and elbowed my side.

"I'm sorry Y/n, you and Spencer are the two people who are the most compatible to seem like a couple, and we need hard proof before we arrest him." Hotch explained with his usual amount of enthusiasm.

None.

"Hotch, this guy is dangerous and we will be in there without vests, is what I believe y/n is trying to say." Spencer leaned back in his seat, flipping through the mans file.

"We will have sharp-shooters pointing through every window at him in case anything gets out of hand. This is non negotiable." And with that, he left.

"Well, clearly we have no choice." I stood from my seat, flattening my skirt. "I'm gonna go home and get an outfit ready. You aren't wearing that to the party either." I pointed to his outfit.

"What's wrong with my outfit?!" He scoffed, hugging his sweater vest.

"Okay, one, this isn't some dingy hole in the wall. And two, even if it was, you don't go to a nice party looking like someone who has 3 PhD's in the first place." The smirk on my lips grew wider as he feigned offense.

"Fine, I'll find something nicer to wear. I'll pick you up at 7 and tell the team to meet us there." I agreed and left the conference room a little grumpy, quickly making a bee line to the elevator before anyone could comment on my mood.

-

I stared at the 3 dresses in front of me. They were all the same style, but different colors.

White, yellow, and olive green.

I wasn't sure why I was having so much trouble picking a *color*. I always say that I dress for myself, which is what I was trying to do right now.

Right?

I totally wasn't thinking back to that conversation I had with Spencer a few weeks ago.

-

*"Y/n!" Emily looked at me with surprise. "You look so beautiful in white! Why don't you wear it more?" She was right, I never wore it. Me and Penelope were pretty known for wearing many colors, mine just had to be paired with a black skirt.*

*"I'm so clumsy." I laughed. "I live in constant fear that I'll spill coffee on it. Hence why I'm not holding a cup of joe."*

*"I agree with Emily, you look nice in white." Spencer chimed in. "You know the psychological meaning of white is purity, innocence, wholeness and completion. In color psychology, white is the color of new beginnings, of wiping the slate clean, so to speak." He then took a sip of his coffee.*

*"Yeah well I don't know about the innocent part." I giggled, looking to Emily who gave me a shrug and nod. Spencer choked a bit on his coffee. "You alright there Spence?" He saluted me and headed to his desk, which put me and Emily into a fit of giggles.*

-

I reluctantly grabbed the white one, silently hoping that I was less of a klutz tonight.

The satin dress slipped on me easily. It came down to about 2 or so inches above my knees and had thin straps. I paired it with some semi-transparent heels and called it a day. I put on a little heavier makeup to look the part. Foundation, winged eyeliner, blush, highlight, and mascara. Lastly, I tied my hair up in a simple straightened pony-tail.

By the time my indecisive ass was done choosing everything, it was nearly 7 and I knew that Spence would be early. My heels clicked as I walked on my wood floors, heading to the front door. Getting there just in time to hear a knock. I must have startled him by opening it so fast because he stumbled back a bit. He wore a nice white button up and tighter pants than usual, paired with nice black oxfords.

And then he just stood there.

I waved my hand in front of his face.

"Hi!" He shook his head a bit. "Hello there, back to Earth I see. Do you wanna come in and have a glass of water before this whole event, since you are," I leaned back into my doorway to look at the time. "12 minutes early?"

"Oh, yeah sure." I cleared the way so he could walk in. I shook the heels from my feet, taking me down at least three inches before stepping into the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses.

"Do you want ice?" I turned to him, he was sitting at my island. He just shook his head. "Okay." I laughed, putting ice in mine and just filling his with water. The glass clinked as it hit the island in front of him. "You're pretty quiet, are you okay?" The tips of his ears reddened.

"Yeah! I'm just a little nervous, you?" He swiftly brought the water to his lips, guzzling it down like he hadn't drank anything in days. He then stood up.

"Of course I'm nervous." I came around to his side of the counter and swooned into his arms. "But I'll have a great protector there." He smiled down at me with a shake of his head, standing me back up.

Now it's time to head out.

-

We pulled up to the location in Spencer's Volvo, which was incredibly nice to ride in. ~~and I would love to get use to riding in it~~.

"Okay, I have one thing to fix with your outfit." I turned to him before we exited the car. His eyes narrowed at this comment. I leaned forward and unbuttoned two buttons. "Now you look like your going to a party."

"Thank you expert. Stay in the car, I'm going to open your door, the bouncer works with him and we have to go all out on this act." He nodded his head at the bouncer a few yards away.

I wish this wasn't an act.

He opened the door, offering his hand. I took it with a gracious smile, interlacing our fingers. We walked up to the bouncer, who had an ipad with the guest list in hand. Penelope had hacked into their list and added our names, well fake names.

"Mr and Mrs. Adler." Spencer spoke as I leaned into his side. The man scrolled through the list, he tapped our names and opened the door.

It opened to a large room, filled with dozens of people. I leaned up on my tippy toes and whispered into Spencer's ear.

"If we die, I'm going to kill you." I pulled away with a smile, patting his shoulder. His Adam's apple bobbed while he gulped. "So, what's this guys networth, I mean he seems pretty damn rich to throw a party like this." He looked down at me quizzically. "I know you know what it is, I'm sure you have researched him extensively. So what is it?"

"6.2 million dollars." He recited, looking towards the crowd, scanning for the man in question.

"Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."

"Be careful what you say, someone might think we are suspicious." He pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my head.

This night is going to be agonizing. "There he is." We made our way to him slowly, stopping at small drink stations. Just as we were about to get to some seats near him, a server came up to us.

"Hello! Welcome. Would you guys like anything?" She handed Spencer a very small menu. I could see the slight confusion in his eyes. It was truly a weird thing to do at such a big party.

*Salad*

*Potato Soup*

*Fruit Bowl*

*Veggie Bowl*

"I'll have a salad, and the lady will have a fruit bowl." He pointed to the seats we were on our way to. "We will be over there. Thank you." He put his hand on the small of my back, leading us to the seats.

"How did you know I wanted a fruit bowl?"

"You bring some kind of fruit cup to work every day, I'm observant." Right as we were about to sit down, another couple took the seats, not even noticing that we were heading there.

"Well damn. I say we stand next to his table until our food gets here, then we go to the other corner of the room and observe, then we catch him making the deal." I led him to the space by the table. After just a few minutes of waiting, the young lady who took our orders he returned, holding a small bowl of salad and a fruit bowl.

"Have a good night!" She chimed, how can someone be so happy with so many people around?

We ventured to the other side of the room, I grabbed two glasses of champagne from another server on the way. I peered at Spencer over the skinny glass, he was staring at his salad.

"What, is there something wrong?"

"Why is there so much white stuff on it? It's not ranch, I know what ranch looks like." My giggle was muffled slightly by the glass.

"That's what she said." He raised one eyebrow. Then a look of realization came over his face.

"You have a dirty mind." He mixed together the salad to distribute the 'white stuff'. We subtly stared every once in a while over at the mans table.

His name was Anton Todd, but his customers called him Ton. He was someone who frequently assassinated people. He was a hitman to be exact. We had an outside source tell us that a new customer would be coming in to request business, so we could kill two birds with one stone.

So far the man we knew as Cole Kamargo had not come to ask for Antons *services* yet. We had been standing in this corner of the room for a while, just watching him. That's when I caught his eye.

His gaze was terrifying, it struck me right through my soul, and I just couldn't stop looking. He squinted at me, tilting his head. Spencer shook my shoulder.

"Y/n, stop staring at him." It was like being lost in someone's eyes in the worst way possible. I watched as he stood from the table, making his way over with a sour look on his face.

"Shit shit shit shit." I mumbled as he got closer.

"Shit is right. Do you trust me?" I kept my eyes on the man.

"Of course." He grabbed my hips, pushing me against the wall behind us and kissed me hard. He trailed his left hand up to the back of my neck, holding me there. I gasped in surprise, leading him to slip his tongue in my mouth. Meaning we were full on making out. I pushed my hands into his hair, gladly accepting the kiss and sighing into it. Suddenly, Spencer was pulled from me. And there he stood.

Anton.

"Tell your girl to stop fuckin' staring at me." He spat, glaring at me.

"Sorry sir, my wife has ADHD, she zones out frequently." He rushed to my side and pulled me into his side protectively. Anton rolled his eyes and left the area.

I looked up at Spencer, his cheeks were a deep shade of red, and he was touching his lips.

"Thank you. Also, you're a good kisser." I remarked, nudging his side a bit. He looked down at me with wide eyes. "What? Am I not allowed to compliment your kissing? It's good!" I laughed heartily, looping my arm into his.

"Ditto." A smile grew on his lips. I could get use to this. Spencer noticed an available seat near us, so he sat patting his lap.

"Excuse me?"

"Come sit on my lap!" He chuckled.

"I'm glad your getting use to the idea of me being your *wife*." I sat on his lap, leaning my head back onto his shoulder. My hands made their way to the heel of my foot, slightly slipping my shoe off. "These heels are from Satan I think." I rubbed at the sore skin.

"My tag is itchy." Spencer pulled at his collar, relieving the so called *itch*.

"These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." He turned his head to me, kissing my cheek.

"I'm sorry, I can put some neosporin on it when we get home. I mean, when we get-get you home." He stuttered, the tips of his ears once again turning an extravagant shade of red. I kissed his jaw.

"Thank you *baby*." We were then interrupted by a woman next to us.

"How long have you guys been married?" The lady leaned over the booth, a ring was clearly shown on her finger.

"8 years." I answered quickly, before Spencer could say a contradicting answer.

"Wow! You guys look so young to be together so long. How do you guys keep it so... so beautiful?" She tilted her head at the question.

"What do you mean?" I asked, reaching my hand into Spencer's hair and playing with it momentarily.

"You seem so in love. You act like teenagers, I don't think I've looked that in love with my husband since we first met." She huffed.

"You just have to find someone who's easy to love." He leaned his head on mine. "I've never had a doubt in my mind that she was the one." The words stuck with me, I felt like they would be embedded in my soul for eternity.

"I think I need to get a divorce." She sunk into the seat, I watched as her husband come back and sat with her, she gave him a weak smile.

"Okay, we need to leave this area before we become homewreckers." I whispered, pulling him to his feet and fleeing into another direction. "We must be amazing actors." I laughed nervously.

"Yeah, actors." He murmered, but before I could comment on it, I saw Cole making his way to Anton.

"Spencer! It's Cole!" I screeched quietly. We discreetly made our way near the table, quickly catching the conversation and relaying it to Hotch.

Cole spoke of the horrible things he wanted done to his wife, it made me sick.

"FBI, get on the ground!" I pulled my gun from the left holster that Spencer had for me. I couldn't exactly *hide* a gun on this white dress. Spencer pulled his gun as well.

"We have you surrounded by sharpshooters aimed and ready to fire, so I suggest that you comply." Morgan came in soon, cuffing the both of them and leading the men to cars.

We now remained outside, sitting on the stairs of the large building.

"I enjoyed being your husband for a night." Spencer laughed, nudging my shoulder.

"And I enjoyed being your wife." I played with the fake ring on my finger. "Okay. Fuck it. Did you mean any of the things you said in there?" The words spat from my mouth quickly.

"Like what?" His voice was shaky.

"Like, that you never had a doubt that I was the one. Or was that part of the act. I would totally understand if it was, you're an amazing actor if it was because it honestly had me believing-" He put his finger to my lips.

"Yes, I meant it."

"Thank God." I grabbed his jaw with both hands and brought him to my lips. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it. His hands ran up and down my back slowly.

"I wouldn't mind doing this every day." He remarked, gesturing between our lips.

"I wouldn't either pretty boy."

[bonsai62]

Part 1: The Compatibility between Pisces and Capricorn

Hello everyone! Today, since I am hella bored and have nothing to do this fine evening, I am going to talk about the relationship between our two boys; Yuji and Megumi and how much they represent their signs so much.

Before I get started, I am not going to talk about their sex life even though it’s kinda important if you are into astrology, however, for this case I won’t because both of them are minors. But if you want to read more about their comparability then be my guess and look at the underline links. I will provide links in the discussion so you can have a better understanding on how the signs are and use manga pages for you to visually see it.

Also, excuse my English. I am very bad at it! Even though it’s my first language I still have lots of errors in my writing!

Also beware of manga spoilers too!!

Let’s get started on this very long essay!

Traits of a Pisces: Itadori Yuji

Positive: Compassionate (top), empathetic (middle), & creative (bottom)

We also have: Warm/gentle, caring, intellectual, animal lover, and romantic

Here we have the positive side of a Pisces and let me tell you it screams Yuji so damn much. Yuji is such a compassionate guy. I don’t think I have never seen a character who is very compassionate like Yuji (I have but we are talking about Yuji here lol). He can empathize with a whole lot of people and no matter what the situation is he understands. Yuji doesn’t need to have the same experience as someone because he can feel and get in their head to make him understand what their going through. Which brings me to that he has a really high empathy level when it comes to people (I can relate a lot because I have the same thing). However, having a lot of empathy isn’t all that’s cracked up to be but I’ll talk about it soon.

A Pisces is also very creative and they love hobbies. One of Yuji’s favorite hobbies is, I have a feeling is sports but that just based on what his old school thought of him + the baseball game. Plus cooking! Cooking is an amazing hobby and it lets you get creative with your hands and skills! I like to imagine that he is the best cook throughout the school and loves to share with his classmates and have them rate his cooking lol! Cooking is also a relief of stress so I can also imagine him having a bad day and just ends up being in the kitchen.

Now....

Negative: Overly emotional (top), impressionable (bottom), closed off (middle)

I messed up the order lol

We also have: melancholy, lazy, stubborn, moodiness, etc

Yuji is a very emotional person. We have seen him at his best and at his worse. He is such an emotional person that he felt bad for killing Choso’s brothers. His emotions gets the best of him when Junpei died, Megumi was hurt, seeing what Sukuna has done in Shibuya, and Nanamin/Nobara getting destroyed by Mahito. It’s an unhealthy feeling because we’ve seen Yuji get distracted with his injured friends and him kinda fucking up on his fighting. Another unhealthy trait that Yuji had is not talking about himself. We’ve seen him not talk about his feelings and I mean personal deep feelings that’s always going to be in the back of his head. Like when Megumi knows that something happened to Yuji but Yuji simple doesn’t want to talk about and closes it. He doesn’t really like talking about himself and rather hear other people/helping other people rather than face his own demons. If he’s facing his own demons, he rather be doing it on his own.

I also want to point out that many people think that he gets over people’s death hella easily. No... that is not true whatsoever. The boy has been through so much trauma that eventually you just get so tired of crying about it and you don’t have the energy anymore, you eventually start telling yourself “it is what it is” or “what can I do now?”. Noabra is a perfect example. He didn’t need to cry because he had the biggest mental breakdown when it happened. So when he asked Megumi about her status... he just had to say “alright”.

In my theories... she is definitely alive. Again, Gege is playing half of you guys. She is gonna pop out in the next couple of chapters or even the one coming up next.

Another things that I find interesting in Yuji which according to the links I put, Pisces tend to trust people easily:

Ease of being cheated: A desire to see the best things in other people makes the Two Fish very impressionable individuals. They trust others without any suspicions and often suffer from their frivolity. Any pressure of stronger people is accepted as a command for them and they easily agree with them without any doubts.

For instant, Todo and Choso. Those two mf were about to kill him but they didn’t because of what Yuji’s mind fuck did (I know Gege sensei said that isn’t a theory but still it’s mind fuck lol) He instantly call Todo his best friend like I can hear Nobara (Big sis) twitching somewhere lol. Whenever I think of Yuji and Todo’s relationship, I think of Vinny and Paula D from Jersey Shore haha!

Any who, while trusting people isn’t a bad thing, you still don’t know what their intentions are and everything. It’s a very naive thing to do.

But I felt for Yuji and Choso... Yuji didn’t have much of a choice...

I would like to know what changed Yuji’s mind into staying with Choso. I’m curious how Yuji “trusted” being with Choso after everything that went down. Yuji is a very forgiving character too (minus Mahito). But now, I think we can see that Choso has no bad intentions towards Yuji because he “might” be his brother. And their so cute too!!

On to our other boy!

Traits of a Capricorn: Megumi Fushiguro

Positive: Resourcefulness (top), discipline/patient (middle: also thank @pantherbeamish for the photos!), and reliability (bottom)

We also have: Responsibility, loyalty, diligence, team player, etc

Megumi is a very interesting character. Whenever I see him I get more interested in him. He is exactly what you would describe a Capricorn. We have seen Megumi be resourceful when it comes understanding how curse energy works thanks to him. He is very detailed when it comes to explaining and also a very patient man when Yuji, who doesn’t know jack shit about the Jujutsu world. Never, not once, does Megumi call Yuji an idiot for not knowing all these things. That’s what makes him amazing because if it were other Shonen mangas, the “rival” would’ve called Yuji an idiot. The only time Megumi ever calls Yuji an idiot is when Yuji literally does or says something stupid. To me, that is normal and not being a dick about it because we all know that if we had a friend like Yuji we would’ve stared at him like “why are you like this...”

It’s me... I’m a lot like Yuji lol

But no, he is very patient and tries to explain everything to Yuji as best as he can. I have this thing where almost everyone relies on Megumi a lot because he’s a serious guy + very responsible with his tasks. We see Maki trusting Megumi too. Like the time when Megumi was hyping Yuji up saying he can beat everyone in the Kyoto school if they didn’t use curse energy (something like that lol). Yuji also can confirm himself that Megumi is very reliable. He mentioned it while back at the prison because both sibling duo thought they were lost.

Negative: Sensitivity (top), seriousness (middle), reservation (bottom)

We also have: Unforgiving, criticism, suspicion, pickiness, etc

Just like Yuji, we have seen Megumi’s negative side a lot but it’s simply because he’s sensitive and thinks logically. Sometimes, I also feel like he thinks through his heart as well but that’s just me. That is where the sensitivity comes along. Megumi is hella sensitive he doesn’t need to show it because you can feel it.

In the article:

Sensitivity: It is better not to offend Capricorns who are very sensitive people. They can’t stand being laughed at and remain serious in public but feel badly deeply in their souls. Even a minor joke can result in resentment from their side!

In many, many occasions we have seen everyone fucking around or getting on Megumi’s nerves, especially in our recent Jujustroll where Gojo is saying a bunch of nonsense and embarrassing tf out of Megumi. His seriousness gets in the way and that’s what makes him sensitive.

On the side note: I also wanted to add something. As I was reading a few articles, some mentioned that Capricorns are... bland. Please, Capricorns!! No me ataques! I just find it interesting that someone, like Todo, who thinks Megumi is boring. Todo honestly thought he was boring since he first asked him what was his type and while Megumi gave us the best answer, Todo expected something more fun. But no, it was boring. Also, Megumi lives a simple life. Now, I’m not saying that Megumi is boring because as a matter of fact I like how simple he is. He likes to keep things neutral. Personally, on his activities he is considered “bland” and honestly, I can see why but I would still go out my way to enjoy it with him if I was his significant other lol I also feel like he has a good sense of style in fashion. I’m saying that judging from the official arts + “Lost In Paradise” because in that ED Megumi be looking like a bowl of fruits. A bowl of snacks lmao!

But, anyways! Megumi is also reserved to himself. He does not like talking about himself at all (hon hon does that sound like someone?). He doesn’t open up to a lot of people but I kinda feel like he does with Gojo but that’s just because Gojo raised him and he just knows when Megumi is feeling a certain way. Also, I bet Gojo just knows when Megumi is having a bad day too. We witnessed him just being in his own bubble in the current arc that is happened in the anime. Yuji and Nobara calls him out about him being so reserved to himself. He does eventually tells them what is going on, but it takes a lot for a Capricorn to open up and it’s totally understandable. I feel as if you want a Capricorn to open up, you have to let them give you time for them to get to know you. Give them your intentions and put in the effort to make them trust you.

Now in to the fun part!!

1. Trust:

Positive:

Articles 1: They will often understand each other well enough to respect their relationship and keep it clear of dishonesty

I’m a use this imagine again btw because this speaks their relationship clearly

I think what I truly love about their relationship and love the idea of them being an endgame is the trust that they have for one another(even though someone is gonna die). They barely knew each other for 2 months and their chemistry is off the mf charts.

The picture above isn’t just them having an eye opening moment but the fact that they trust each other to save one another.

Megumi had saved Yuji so many time

Yuji had also saved Megumi so many times

Tbh, when I was thinking about Megumi coming in to save Yuji from Yuuta and Naoya, I thought it would be the same as when Yuji saved Megumi and Maki from Hanami, but we got something better. We got to see Megumi never doubting Yuji and always making sure that he gives him as many chances as he gives. I hope that sparks a realization for Yuji because sometimes I always felt that he doesn’t really acknowledges Megumi doing a whole lotta things for Yuji. I’m still complaining about it because if he can say “thank you, best friend” to Todo or “thank you, Kugisaki, for letting me know that I am not alone” to Nobara, then he should definitely see how much Megumi gives a fuck about him.

I expect a “thank for being by my side and never doubting me” for Megumi.

Articles 2: Pisces, who prefers to hand off important decision-making to dominant Capricorn, feeds into the goat’s need to be in control. On the flip side, Capricorn trusts Pisces to attend to its emotional needs—something that can be very difficult to allow at first.

This is interesting because a lot of the time Megumi is always making the plans and the choices. I feel like Yuji tends to rely on Megumi a lot because Yuji respects the way Megumi thinks (I’m not saying he doesn’t do that with anyone either).

Another thing is that:

“Capricorn trust Pisces to attend to its emotional needs-something that can be very difficult to allow at first”

I want to use Yuji asking Yuuta to kill him if Sukuna comes out especially for Megumi’s sake as an example of “emotional needs” because we see that Yuji does not want to be anywhere near Megumi because of Sukuna. In Yuji’s emotional state, he would rather have Yuuta kill him than Megumi. A lot of people also have this head canon that the reason why he asked Yuuta to kill him instead of Megumi is because Megumi already has a lot on his plate or something. I forgot the theory lol

But... I have a feeling that Megumi is gonna end up killing Yuji at the end because it should be him...

But yes,

Let’s see where things end with the current event that is happening now.

But unfortunately, I have to stop right here because Tumblr only allows 10 images in one post. Tragic!

I do hope you guys enjoy and please comment if I’m missing anything with them! Let’s hope I won’t take long with part 2 because I’m hella busy at times! Overall, tell me what you guys think!

[ha-hatdog]

tsukishima kei hcs

- dating someone shy

huehue i'm guessing you wanted tsukishima from haikyuu. this salty four eyes has a special place in my heart. hope you enjoy

requested by @fierte-verte : Hello! Can I request a shy reader dating Tsukishimatsu headcanon? Thank you so much!

__

you are a simple shy high school girl attending karasuno. nothing special. maybe except for the fact you get nervous every time someone calls for you and stutters even when being asked simple questions such as directions

never once have you stepped outside without a blush on your face. always timid, always shy, always nervous, always stuttering, but ever so kind and gentle and helpful. that was you

an angel is what you are to all people you have met. pure baby angel

so how the fuck did this salty frenchfry win you over?

you two were the complete opposite ＝asshole, and not asshole

but that didn't stop tsukishima from liking you. to him, you were more than just a background. you were like him, doing what you were told and letting others get the light of glory

tsukishima was sure you were going you reject his confession because everyone made him out as nothing but an asshole but he was pleasantly surprised when you accepted his feelings through your blush and stammering

turns out being shy had its perks, one of them being able to observe what kind of person is someone just from looking and you know that tsukishima might be mean from time to time but he's nothing like the evil person everyone told you he was

and then bam, this chaotic couple has formed. not really chaotic but people think so because again, supposedly not compatible. people still doesn't why you're dating him but as if tsukimishima cares what they think

he only cares about what you think. but still - how does a shy and kind girl and a salty lamppost date? well, we'll see right now

you were tsukishima's main source of moral. whenever he find himself in a row with another student - kageyama tobio - you were always the one to calm him down. he unwillingly does, and more unwillingly apologizes if you asked him to

you'll have to force his head and back down to a bow for him to apologize. what's more impressive is that you were able to reach his head to make what with the height difference

you think it was yamaguchi who was tsukishima's source of moral? this sweet boi can be, sure, but majority of the time he'll probably egg him without noticing

you are now also yamaguchi's source of moral

tsukishima knows how shy you are and may use that to tease you

he'll kiss you out of there to see you blush

he'll hug you from behind to hear you stammer

tsukimishima finds it cute when you get flustered from just the simplest actions of affections so he does it frequently

he has no idea he has become the most affectionate between the two of you in the relationship with his much he wants to hug and kiss you

but that doesn't mean you don't get your times to embarass him (you end up embarassed too but at least tsukishima was too)

like when he returned in the court after wakatoshi hurt his pinky finger in their match against shiratorizawa and he blocked one of those powerful spikes

you ran up to tsukishima after the match and hugged him and telling him you were proud of him. tsukishima was about to tease you when you pulled him down for a kiss

tsukishima just kinda . . . stopped working

everyone in the team was staring. yamaguchi was chuckling, nishinoya and tanaka crying tears of joy (both for tsukishima and their win), and the freak duo wondering why they were kissing in the middle of the hallway

when you pulled away, both of you were equally red and you ran away, embarassed like did you seriously kiss tsukishima in front of his teammates?

you felt like you were having a fever when tsukishima told you his brother was there too

tsukishima takes initiative in talking. what does that mean? you two have a conversation quite fine. the problem was the situations like buying something from the mall or market and you're too shy to talk to the cashiers

tsukishima will do it for you. ask about the price, where it was made - everything he asks on your behalf

but tsukishima cannot allow you to stay shy and reclusive

he'll encourage you to speak up or answer in classes. sometimes he'll have you buy something for the two of you at the convenience store so you'll learn how to interact properly with strangers

he feels bad when you come back to him like you were about to cry but you need to improve yourself and tsukishima will try to help with that

sometimes when a person really wants to talk to you, tsukishima will pretend not to see you asking for help because again, you can't be shy forever

tsukishima is a helpful boyfriend but he knows when he's crossing the line

for the longest time, he did not bring you to see the team until you were forced to go to the gym because tsukishima forgot his water bottle

when you entered, head down and body shaking from nervousness, everyone was confused. who were you?

when you asked for tsukishima, it all clicked to them

"TSUKISHIMA IS THIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND"

nishinoya and tanaka were the ones to immediately run to you, wanting to know everything about your relationship

tsukishima knows how overwhelmed you get when meeting new people, and you'll probably pass out or something if he allowed energetic and prying nishinoya and tanaka to meet you without supervision

so he intervened, pulling you out of the way before they could jump at you

"nishinoya-san, tanaka-san, please don't jump on my girlfriend. she's shy"

tsukishima saw you trembling as you hid behind him and threatened asked for the two seconds years to apologize for scaring you

they profusely did

you met everyone in the team, tsukishima by your side. he introduced all of them to you and they greeted you

tsukishima was about to tell them your name but to his surprise, you did yourself

he was so proud of you but he won't tell you that. he'll just pat your head after the unforseen meet and greet

he doesn't force you to watch his games because he knows how awkward and stiff you are with crowds

but if you do come to his games, he is very happy and grateful

you never cheer in his games, just clap when karasuno scoresn. but there was one time when they won and you screamed in a cheer the loudest and everyone was staring at you

blushy blush. you cover your face

don't worry, tsukishima liked that you did that. there's nothing to be shy about cheering on your boyfriend and his team

he takes hie cuddling with you slow. he feels you stiffens every time he wraps his arms around you

his heart will melt when you begin to get cozy in his cuddle

"why do you always want to cuddle with me?"

"because you like it"

don't believe him, he loves it too

when someone bullies you for your shyness, trust me, they won't go home without their pride stepped on

tsukishima knows well you are sometimes insecure with your shyness and like hell some douchebags are going to pull you down

"of course you can't tell that in front of me so you have to target my girlfriend"

"i understand. cowards lean more to people they think they're above of. you don't have to explain anything to me"

"can't you speak proper japanese? i expected this from kageyama but i guess there are more stupid people than him"

they're on his shit list for eternity

one thing tsukishima hated about your shyness is that you can't say what you wanted to say

when he isn't paying attention to you much, you stay quiet

girls flirting with him and you're uncomfortable? you stay quiet

you wanna learn volleyball from him? you're quiet

he urges you to tell him everything because he wants to know what you're thinking

it'll take time but you'll slowly begin telling him about everything

those times he sometimes doesn't pay attention to you much? they're no more

and those girls that keep flirting with him? they backed off after tsukishima shooed them off with a "go away, you're annoying me and my girlfriend"

you wanna learn volleyball? you're better at receiving than him now (you tease him about that)

he playfully teases you when he gives you his jacket. it's a sight to see when you're flushed red, eyes averted, wearing a jacket a little too big for you

yeah, he blushes too

he knows you want more friends so despite himself, he encouraged you to befriend kageyama and hinata

those two are annoying shits

but he knows for a fact these two will be a good influence you and will never leave you be

he watches you try your best to converse with kageyama and hinata and a small smile slowly appears on his lips as the blush on your cheeks fades away and you grow more comfortable with them

and when you laughed when kageyama and hinata fights? his heart-

"you're so invested with y/n it's cute"

"shut up yamaguchi"

but it was the truth

you're his source of moral? well he is your source of confidence

he will always be there to tell you that there is nothing to be shy of. you used to miss a lot of great things but with tsukishima in the picture, you're beginning to experience more

tsukishima is an impatient prick but as you were his girlfriend, he grew to be more patient

he was patient when you're struggling to tell him something

patient when you want to talk to someone but too shy at first

patient with your first kiss

patient with everything

all in all, you two bring out the best of each other

[max1461]

Just read Scott Alexander’s post on “conflict theorists” vs. “mistake theorists” and, hmm. I have several thoughts. First, to summarize the concept for anyone who hasn’t seen it before: Alexander links to a reddit post by user u/no_bear_so_low, who originated the idea, saying

There is a way of carving up politics in which there are two basic political meta-theories, that is to say theories about why different political ideologies and political conflict exist. The first theory is that political disagreements exist because politics is complex and people make mistakes, if we all understood the evidence better, we’d agree on a great deal more. We’ll call this the mistake theory of politics. For the mistake theorist, politics is not a zero-sum game, but a matter of growing the pie so there is more for everyone. The second theory is that political disagreements reflect differences in interests which are largely irreconcilable. We’ll call this the conflict theory of politics. According to the conflict theory of politics, politics is full of zero-sum games.

u/no_bear_so_low claims that both the far left and far right are more amenable to conflict theory than liberals are, who lean more towards mistake theory. Alexander seems to agree, though in his own post he’s speaking mainly about Marxists in particular. He summarizes the concept as follows:

To massively oversimplify:

Mistake theorists treat politics as science, engineering, or medicine. The State is diseased. We’re all doctors, standing around arguing over the best diagnosis and cure. Some of us have good ideas, others have bad ideas that wouldn’t help, or that would cause too many side effects.

Conflict theorists treat politics as war. Different blocs with different interests are forever fighting to determine whether the State exists to enrich the Elites or to help the People.

In addition, Alexander subdivides the categories further into “hard” and “soft” versions:

Consider a further distinction between easy and hard mistake theorists. Easy mistake theorists think that all our problems come from very stupid people making very simple mistakes; dumb people deny the evidence about global warming; smart people don’t. Hard mistake theorists think that the questions involved are really complicated and require more evidence than we’ve been able to collect so far [...]

Maybe there’s a further distinction between easy and hard conflict theorists. Easy conflict theorists think that all our problems come from cartoon-villain caricatures wanting very evil things; bad people want to kill brown people and steal their oil, good people want world peace and tolerance. Hard conflict theorists think that our problems come from clashes between differing but comprehensible worldviews.

So what do I think about all this?

Well, it seems to me that this framework is (a) a fairly reasonable descriptive dichotomy, in the sense that, yes, a lot of people do genuinely seem to fall into one of these two camps, and (b) a horrible dichotomy on which to base any prescriptions about political meta-theory, in that these are both awful (and obviously wrong) ways to think about the world. Now, Alexander doesn’t explicitly give any such prescriptions, but he does describe SCC as “hard mistake theorist central”, and generally speaks of mistake theory in approving terms, while speaking of conflict theory in disapproving ones. I think this is bad.

At a base level, my problem with both these “theories” is that they’re, in some sense, just too optimistic.

I agree, for example, with the hard mistake theorist sentiment that the world is full of extremely challenging technical problems, that these problems can be the source of real human suffering, and that the only way to address these problems is through data collection and empirical analysis and hard technical work. And I agree that this will often produce unintuitive conclusions, that run against people’s gut sense of what the right policy might look like. I agree that the state is diseased. I do not agree that “[w]e’re all doctors, standing around arguing over the best diagnosis and cure.” People, it turns out, often do have genuinely different and irreconcilable values, and genuinely do envision different ideal worlds. In addition to that fairly mundane observation, there genuinely are a lot of bad actors, who are just in the game for their own benefit. The world is full of grifters, schemers, and petty (or not so petty) tyrants; on an empirical level that’s just not something you can deny.

On the other hand, I agree with the easy conflict theorist sentiment that, e.g., “bad people want to kill brown people and steal their oil.” There’s plenty of pretty immediate proof of that to be found if you look into the history of colonialism¹, or the slave trade, or US foreign election interference in the twentieth century. Actually, just so I’m not pissing anybody off by only mentioning “western” examples, I’ll include the Khmer Rouge and the Holodomor and comfort women and uh, you get the picture. For god’s sake, the Nazis really existed, and yeah, they really believed all that Nazi shit. In retrospect they may seem like implausibly evil cartoon villains, but in fact they were real flesh and blood humans, just like the rest of us. You think that was just a one-off?

And on a much more mundane note, sometimes (actually, very very often), ordinary people just have incompatible ethical axioms. Sometimes people have genuinely different values, and there are no rational means to sort out which value-set to choose. I suspect this is at least part of the reason for the rationalist community’s skew towards mistake theorizers, in that their favored intellectual tool has more-or-less nothing to offer when it comes to selecting your values (=ethical axioms, =terminal goals, etc). I mean, of course rationality is good for diagnosing contradictions in your value set, but it can’t tell you how to resolve those contradictions. That’s the domain of intuition, empathy, and aesthetics, were data cannot light your way.

However, I do not agree with the conflict theorists’ underlying sentiment that if “the good people” were just in charge, everything would be better. After all, there are all those pesky technical problems with unintuitive solutions getting in the way, requiring all kinds of expertise and thorough empirical study and uh, plenty of them might not even be solvable.² This is a huge deal. It’s incredibly easy to have the best of intentions and still make horrible mistakes by virtue of just... happening to have the facts wrong. Not through malice, or self-interest, or even some nicely-explainable sociological bias like white fragility or whatever. Just because problems are hard, and sometime you will fail to solve them. Even when people’s lives and livelihoods are at stake.

Here’s a handy latex-formatted table for your comprehending pleasure:

lol, we live there.

So this all sounds a bit pessimistic and, well, I suppose it is. I think we have a responsibility to acknowledge the gravity of our situation. We could, conceivably, live in a world that was structured according to either the conflict theorist’s vision or the mistake theorist’s vision, but we don’t. We live in a much scarier world, and if we don’t face that terrifying reality head-on, we’re not going to be able to overcome it.

Now, in general, I’d say I spend a lot of my internet-argument-energy-allowance trying to persuade [what I perceive to be] overly conflict-theorizing leftists in the direction of a greater recognition of the genuine technical difficulty of the problems we face. It's probably worth making a separate post about why I think a “denial of unintuitive solutions” is so common on the left, but I’ll just mention here that I think it relates to what I once jokingly called the “Humanistic gaze”. That is, the bias to view everything quite narrowly through the lens of the humanities, and to view all problems as fundamentally sociological in nature. When the world is constructed entirely by humans and human social relations, there’s a level at which nothing can be unintuitive. After all, an intersubjective world must ultimately be grounded in subjective experience, and subjective experience is literally made of intuition.

I usually don’t spend much time pursuing the dual activity (trying to argue liberals out of [what I perceive to be] an overly mistake-theorizing perspective). This is largely because, well, I think the optimistic assumption that mistake theorists make —that most people have basically compatible goals, and that relatively few people are working out of abject self-interest or hatred or whatever— is so obviously false that it doesn’t warrant as much genuine critique as it warrants responding with memes about US war crimes. The principal of charity is best extended to ideas, not people or institutions. You can take the neocons’ arguments seriously without extending charity to the neocons as agents.

The post concludes with Alexander writing

But overall I’m less sure of myself than before and think this deserves more treatment as a hard case that needs to be argued in more specific situations. Certainly “everyone in government is already a good person, and just has to be convinced of the right facts” is looking less plausible these days.

And uh, yeah. Indeed.

So, in conclusion: is politics medicine, or is it war? No, it’s politics.

There are disagreements, and conflicts of interest, and coalition building, and policy-wonkery, and logistics. There is, as with anything involving the state, the implicit threat of violence. (That’s where the state’s power comes from, remember? Whether it’s their power to tax, or their power to enforce individual property rights to begin with. Their power to regulate or build infrastructure or legally construct corporate personhood or whatever. There’s more than a bit of game theory involved, sure, but the rules of the game are set through the armory.) Every scholarly technocrat with double-blind peer reviewed policy suggestions still ultimately just decides who the guns get pointed at, if at several layers of abstraction. Every righteous people’s vanguard is still bound by the mathematics of production and the dynamics of a chaotic world. There are no easy solution, not conceptually easy nor practically easy. And unless we recognize that on a very deep level, we have no chance of fixing anything.

[1] I’d quote my go-to example here, of the truly ghastly stories relayed to linguist R. M. Dixon by the Dyirbal people of Australia about their subjugation at the hands of white settlers, but unfortunately I don’t have his book with me at the moment. Also this post would require several additional trigger warnings.

[2] I mean, after all, there are only countably many Turing machines, and the set of all languages with finitely many symbols has cardinality 2^(aleph_0)!

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2006): TurboCharged ARCADE!

Let’s finish the Bronze League of 2006 with another Mockaward winner, shall we?

Br2 Br3: TurboCharged ARCADE!

Main author(s): Xaser Acheron

Release date: November 18th, 2006 (database upload)

Version played:

Required port compatibility: ZDoom

Levels: 8

As I said in my previous review, there is a second Mockaward winner from 2006. And unlike How Not To Be Seen, this is actually a proper Doom WAD... sort of.

TurboCharged ARCADE is a collection of eight experimental maps, each testing different aspects of using ZDoom features. All spiced up with some vulgar humor, fitting its times.

Now, Xaser was a guy who helped with mapping for the first ZDoom Community Map Project take along with some scripting in its second version, so why won’t take a look at what he created when he was brainstorming, huh?

Let’s start with obvious first - none of the maps look really good. Most of these look really basic, outdated even by 2006. I can, however, somewhat forgive that since these maps are (as I said earlier) experimental, so their look wasn’t a priority.

The music was fine to listen to. Nothing ear-grating.

Also most of the time, this collection is unfairly cheap. You would think that firing twice as fast and carrying 1.5 times more ammo will make it easier but here’s the problem – you are not the only one on coke! The demons are on coke too; being twice as fast along with their projectiles being twice as fast too. The only way to actually play these maps without ripping your hair out is either with God mode enabled or on the easiest difficulty setting AKA I'm too young to die. Never though such a day will come, when I’ll be forced to play on the easiest difficulty level in Doom.

Now, you might be asking: Why I didn’t talk about how you play these levels? Hell, why didn’t I show anything at all? Simple - it’s because each of these maps is so unique (even if janky) that it’s worth more to talk about these individually.

I’ll start with the fact that you can play all of these maps in any order from the menu (still Pistol-starting though). Not to mention how each one of these ends with you dying and receiving a funny intermission screen at the end.

As for the maps themselves, here is what you need to know about them:

At Home - You are in your very tiny house and your task is to exit it while walking very slowly.

Go To Hell! – You end up in Hell and you have to kill monsters in tight areas to reach a teleporter at the end.

Prison R[[SOAP DROPPING]]! – You are surrounded by devilish goats behind prison bars in a tight corridor and you have to press two switches before squashing them into the red paste.

You are Pablo Picasso – You have to paint a human by stepping on a canvas. To make it harder, there are invisible walls that force you to take a very linear path while Imps are bombarding you. Probably my favorite map of this WAD.

Here is a tip: it’s easier to do this with strafing instead of turning.

Battleshit – You are playing Battleship with a Cyberdemon (which has only one tile). After winning, you fight him with the Plasma Gun.

Go Eat Shit, Sherlock! – After killing Sherlock Holmes, you are forced to finish his latest murder case; filled with unskippable cutscenes that don’t allow you to move (at least they are somewhat funny and don’t feel like they drag out). Also at the end, you must kill 38 demons.

The Matrix Has You – You basically blow the shit up in a bastardized version of Matrix. There are two sections where you are forced to play in bullet-time and at the end you fight the Agent (which might be easier than the rest of the map). Also, there is a secret with a Super Shotgun that you can’t carry after fighting in the office building.

I'm H[[YOUTUBE]] – You are fighting Mr. Adolf [[HEMMORROIDS]] himself, now in a form of a cube. This map is also the worst one when it comes to bullshit moments; especially at the final area, where the boss heals himself at a ridiculous speed, to the point where he can end up softlocked with healing so fast that nothing stops him when he is dying.

While I still think that How Not To Be Seen is still funnier due to me having more of a blast from Monty Python rather than randomness out of the mid-2000s this collection offers, I think it was still funnier than the previous Mockaward winners.

And that’s basically all I have to say about TurboCharged ARCADE. I wouldn’t call this set of maps good, but at least it was interesting to see what could be done with ZDoom by 2006.

And since I’m done with all of the bronze WADs, it would finally be time to choose which WAD should be promoted to the Revenant Awards without all WADs winning by default.

See you next time.

Bye.

[cutebutstillsingle]

Why love & romance is never a “It’s either a fuck yes or fuck no” situation

There are a lot of guys who subscribe to the idea that when it comes to love and romance, it either has to be a “fuck yes” or it’s a “fuck no”; and there is no other way to operate.  This whole framework for decision-making, and whole idea came from Mark Manson.  And I’m here to warn people that when it comes specifically to love and romance, you have to learn to operate in the gray zone if you want to see yourself last in relationships. 

First of all, most people don’t realize that the goal of relationships is to actually try to make them last as long as humanly possible.  So if you’re inclined to ‘fuck no’ everyone, you will fail in relationship over and over and over. 

"fuck yes or fuck no" mind frame can be a dangerous framework to operate from because...

"fuck yes or fuck no" mind frame can be a dangerous framework to operate from because it can actually incline you to say “fuck no” to a lot of truly wonderful or fun romantic opportunities that could become a 'fuck yes' down the road.

 Life is not black and white; and love is most certainly never black and white. Even your dreamiest partner will never be a "fuck yes" 100% of the time.  And in today’s emotionally-devoid, cut-throat, ‘protect my peace at all costs or else’ social culture, we love to live in this fantasy that everything has to be a “fuck yes” all the damn time, or else that person is not worthy enough to be a part of one’s elite, sacred, velvet rope existence. When in fact, there are couples out there who got cheated on and still decide to come back together and make it work. 

The only real  ‘fuck yes/ fuck no’ where love is concerned is that either ‘fuck yes’, this relationship is still going, or ‘fuck no’, it’s not.  

And it would amaze you how simple that truth is, and yet how hard it is for people to understand.  Therefore, a lot of people can’t seem to navigate their way into the success lane of love and relationships. Again, relationship success IS in fact a  “black/white”.  Either you’re successful at relationships, or you’re not.  And that’s a hard but necessary pill to swallow. There is no gray zone of romantic success-- people either have a successful, thriving, growing one, or they don’t. 

In my case, it took saying 'no' to my ex to realize in less than 24 hours that I may have been mistaken-- in actuality, dumping him made me realize he could totally become my ‘absolutely, I think I could walk to the ends of the earth with this man if he felt the same way. But I went and erroneously believed this "it has to be a hard core fuck yes or it’s a fuck no" lie.  

Not that I’ll ever know for sure, but it’s possible I might have fucked up one of the best relationship of my life by saying 'fuck no' to my ex.  And now this is a memory that may very well haunt me for the rest of my life, no joke, because of that perpetual uncertainty. 

 It’s been almost a year and I am still not over this man. I’m actually terrified that I will never be over him because I never got clear answers. I’m frankly always afraid no one will ever come close to making me feel how I felt with him both because of the unique qualities he possessed which I adored; and because he left in this narcissistic way of never making it clear how he felt about me back.  He just had this vague “I regret not giving us another chance” half-assed answer to rejecting my pleas to talk and try to work shit out.  If that’s not a mind fuck I don’t know what is. 

Sometimes you will meet someone in your lifetime to whom literally no one compares.  There may be no one else who possesses their unique pairings of positive qualities that you happen to adore and admire; and which allowed the two of you to thrive before one of you fucked it all up and ended the relationship somehow.  Only time will tell if that turns out to be a blessing in disguise, and what is really meant for you. 

But sometimes you're not just making it up in your head that no one compares-- no one actually brings to the table what that person brought to the table. No one has the vibe they did. No one else has that ideal pairing of qualities that you longed for in a partner, which they had. No one else makes you feel like you're home the way they did. Some people in this world are rare AF.  And sometimes you can’t appreciate it until you realize there aren’t a lot of other  “fuck yes’s” out there like them.  But if they reject you with a “fuck no”, were any of your conclusions about this person even real? Or were they all projections coming from your ability to love? 

On the flip side of rejection examples, I have two friends who are now happily married with two kids. In the process of their engagement, the now-wife told her now-husband "I need a year to truly know if you're the one for me". They separated for a full year, dated other people, and at the end of that year, they came back together and knew beyond the shadow of a doubt they were meant for each other. 

THE TAKE HOME... 

You have to learn how to be your own decision-making calibration, instead of letting Mark Manson, or any one else, tell you how to develop and design your decision-making compass. Don't believe every piece of romance advice you read just b/c it's dramatic, and written by someone popular. 

Most importantly, you must learn to exist in life’s,  and especially in love’s gray zones. There are actually few things in this world that are a true 'fuck yes' / 'fuck no' situation. And really, the only real fuck yes/ fuck no’s when it comes down to it is  a) “is this relationship still going?” and b) your decision-making. By which I mean to say that when you commit to any decision, especially if it is a decision in love or romance, there will be no undoings.  

The moment you make that decision, it’s an automatic "fuck yes, I'm committing to this decision, I'm taking the leap, and whatever follows follows, whatever dies, dies”; alongside “the world now says ‘fuck no’ to everything you didn’t say yes to, and there will be no undoing that, either.   

The decision is the real fuck yes/ fuck no.  

When you say 'fuck no' to love, that decision is going to haunt you every damn day of the rest of your life until you get another opportunity and maybe if you’re lucky, you replace the love of your life you said fuck no to years ago. 

So when it comes to fuck yes/ fuck no, always say ‘fuck yes’ to love. You’ll be better off for it. And also know that love is created between two people who have the right compatibility, chemistry, and willingness to work and hold onto love together. So the only other biggest ‘fuck yes’ besides the decision, is when two people both decide to say ‘fuck yes, I agree to hold onto this love for as long as I can, through the good, the bad, and the ugly’.  That’s how people succeed in relationships. 

[gguksgalaxy]

Bare Necessities | JJK

“When you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to Disneyland out of all places. Luckily, Jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. Or is it…”

This is part of the BTS Smut Club summer collaboration; Setback. ›› Genre: Smut / Fluff ›› Rating: 18+ explicit sex ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 11.8k Warnings Include: Mentions of anxiety and being stressed, plus a talk about consent. Sexual content: sex, blowjob, deepthroating, handjob, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, riding, barebacking (wrap it up guys! they are taking precautions), creampie, minor cumplay, dirty talk, switch!Jk. A/N: These tags make it sound so nasty lol, it’s rlly sweet I promise :((

Normally, you ease your feelings of anxiety by finding a way to tightly hold on to your boyfriend. Now, as you sit in the car stuck in the worst traffic you’ve ever been in, you have to opt for holding his hand. Jungkook lets you play with his fingers, only pulling away to shift gears.

His hand is warm, and his soft voice accompanies the gentle tunes that the radio is playing right now. You wish you could relax, but you’re already so on edge that every little shock of the car makes you want to yelp.

“Can’t you just tell me where we are going?” you whine for the sixth time. To be precise, you’d asked for a relaxing vacation. Jungkook keeping the destination a surprise was not relaxing. Nor was the fact that he’d forgotten his phone charger and that you were now stuck in traffic because you had to go back home and get it. “Please Jungkook.”

He sighs deeply, fingers squeezing yours. “We’re going to Disneyland.”

Abruptly, you drop his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t  think I heard you right. Did you say Disneyland?”

He smiles, a sight that you adore more than anything. However, right now as you ponder over the thought of having to spend your relaxing vacation in Disneyland, you don’t find yourself returning the gesture.

“Yeah, Disneyland, that’s what I said.”

You zip your mouth shut, pursing your lips and opting to stare out the window. Jungkook knows you. He should know you’re not a fan of theme parks or anything crowded like that. On the contrary, you hate it. You said relaxing, not seriously nerve wracking, but you don’t know how to tell him this without coming across as a total bitch.

He must’ve spent a lot of money to get the tickets, and from how excited he was the entire morning you know that he’s hyped about going. You just wish you’d feel the same.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, grabbing your hand and jostling it.

You shake your head. “Nothing, just keep your eyes on the car in front of you please.”

It’s not that Jungkook can’t drive. It has more to do with the fact that you’re stuck in traffic and Jungkook’s attention span seems to be shortening by the minute.

The last time the two of you got stuck in traffic was about two years ago, when you’d barely started dating officially. He’d taken you out to meet his brother and somehow you’d ended up spending half your day on the road. The other half was spent on the side of the road because he’s hit the car in front of him when he’d stopped paying attention.

You’ve been dating for a little over two years now — two years and two months, to be precise — happily so. Jungkook means everything to you, even if he’s put you through some seriously scream-worthy situations. Though, if he hadn’t crashed his car that day he might not have asked you to be his girlfriend so early on. Truth it, you‘d do almost anything for Jungkook. However, you’re already in a bad mood today and you’re not sure if you’re willing to go to Disneyland for him.

Even if you’re glad for every second you get to spend with him, you’re bummed you’re going to have to share that with thousands of other people. He could’ve probably rented a secluded cabin somewhere for half the price.

“You’re upset.” Jungkook doesn’t phrase this as a question — he doesn’t have to. He takes a proper hold of your hand, fingers encasing yours completely. “Talk to me.”

You sigh. “What part of me asking for a relaxing vacation did you not understand?”

“What?” Jungkook looks at you briefly, this time with wide, concerned eyes. Upon the sight you feel the guilt settle in your chest.

“Kook, sweetheart, theme parks and relaxing don’t exactly go hand in hand in my mind.” You choose your words carefully, if anything you don’t  want to upset him. You‘re not mad, you’re just…stressed.

“Oh.” He falls silent, lips parted as traffic finally starts clearing up again. Jungkook drives in silence, eyes forward on the road with both hands on the wheel now. You know he’s mauling over his thoughts, not sure what to say.

Neither are you to be honest. You already feel so guilty for saying anything in the first place that you’re not sure if you can mend the impact of your words. He’s hurt and you want to comfort him, tell him it’s okay. However, it’s not okay, you’re not excited to go to Disneyland and you wish you could do something about it but you can’t.

You find yourself sitting curled up in the passenger seat, stomach twisting anxiously as Jungkook takes you to the planned destination. The mere thought of having to stand in line, go through masses of people to get food, and be surrounded by screaming kids and crowds the entire time was not helping your emotions. It’s not that you’re especially anxious in social settings, it’s just that you’re tired and this is your first weekend off in months. You just want to be along with your boyfriend, sleep, eat, relax, and maybe have sex — definitely cuddle.

After what feels like an eternity in awkward silence, Jungkook finally turns onto the parking lot. Not that it means you’ve arrived. No, it takes him at least thirty minutes to find the one free spot among the mass of cars.

Jungkook parks the car, taking a deep breath. “Do you want me to drive back home?” He gives you the same concerned look, a pout threatening to form on his lips. “I’m sorry that I didn’t think this through. If you want to go back and spend the weekend at home that’s fine with me too.”

You shake your head immediately, turning towards him and taking his hand from where it’s still grasping the wheel. “No, Kook. It’s just that I’m stressed and I — You spent a lot of money on this, and I know you meant well. So lets just go and try to make the best of it. Yeah?”

Jungkook’s eyes light up again at your words, nodding excitedly and exiting the car. Once you meet him by the trunk he catches you off guard with a bone-crushing hug. His arms wrap around your waist and you’re easily lifted off the ground. You squeal, but return the hug and giggle into his shoulder. Even now, when you truly feel like shit, Jungkook is able to alleviate your mood just a little.

Being with Jungkook didn’t come easy. At first you didn’t think you were compatible in the slightest. You never thought you’d ended up dating a highly energised boy with a strange combination of passions for working out, video games, and singing — in that order. Even if Jungkook is good at everything he does, there’s one thing that made him defy all odds and capture your heart. It’s the way he makes you feel at ease. All you need is a simple smile, or a good look at those big, sparkly eyes and you feel like you’ll be able to get through the day.

Now lets hope that you’ll get through three days in giant-playground hell.

It comes to no surprise to you that Jungkook managed to scrounge up enough money and get you a room in the most expensive hotel on the premise. It’s all soft pinks, blues and whites and you want to glare at him for even daring to spend this much money on you. What got into his pretty little head. There was no need for him to break the bank on a simple holiday. Sadly, your boyfriend is incapable of doing things half-assed.

“Come on.” Jungkook grabs your hand again, something that comforts you a little as you move through the people who stand in the lobby. It luckily didn’t take too long for him to get the key, and now you’re finally on your way to the room.

Due to the horrific traffic, you’ve lost most of your first day already and you just want to get into bed and snuggle up to him. If anything that might make you feel better about this entire situation. You want to cuddle with him and sleep in really late, order breakfast in bed. Maybe you can make this trip a little more relaxing that way.

You gasp when Jungkook gentlemanly opens the door for you. It’s massive, a four post bed standing against the wall — it even has little pink drapes. “Jungkook!” you gasp, both in surprise and slight annoyance.

“I know, it’s so pretty,” he states, ushering you inside.

Once there, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you. His lips are soft with the texture of his cherry lip balm, and you can’t help but smile a little. He seems eager, leaving the suitcase aside and holding you close as he smooths his lips over yours. Jungkook is warm, and you’re eased by the press of his chest against yours. The fabric of his thin sweater is supple beneath your fingers where your hands slide up his sides.

A tiny moans comes from you as he traces the seam of your lips with his tongue. You part them eagerly, meeting him in the middle with a deep sigh. Within seconds your lost in him, kissing in the middle of the room with your arms wrapped around his narrow waist. It’s romantic, the way he loves you like this. Jungkook is physical, more so than vocal or emotional, he speaks with his body and right now all he’s saying is that he loves you.

It’s when he tries to guide you to the bed that you stop. “Jungkook,” you whisper.

He looks at you with those big eyes that make you want to kiss all over his face.

“Can we just cuddle tonight?” You know Jungkook, how he thinks, feels, needs. He was probably already planning on having sex with you in that gigantic bed tonight — that, or he was trying to make up for ruining your ‘relaxing’ vacation. Regardless, you’re way too tightly strung to have sex right now. Maybe once you feel a little more calm.

He pouts a little as you step away to open the suitcase on the bed. You know it won’t last, his pouting, because he knows that you only say no when you mean it. Right now you’re not going to give in to his cute little face.

Jungkook watches your eyes move as you unpack some of your toiletries and set them down in the bathroom. He’s half naked when you get back, sweater discarded on a large chair by the window. His abs flex as he stretches and you throw him the shirt he usually wears to bed — you’re not going to let yourself get wooed by his body. Even if he looks delectable beneath his clothing, he knows as well as you do that cuddles come first.

He remains shirtless as he follows you into the bathroom, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you take off your makeup. There’s a slight hum in his chest as he nuzzles you hair, only to kiss down and and gently mouth at your neck. The feeling of his lips is tantalising, they’re so soft and supple. He knows exactly where to touch you, your shoulders leaning into his ministrations.

“Jungkook,” you try again, but he doesn’t seem to mind your ingenuine protest. He keeps kissing up and down your neck, tongue trailing your skin as he sucks lightly — it’s not firm enough to leave a mark, but it feels good still. So good that you can feel your body relax in his grasp. “Jungkook, stop,” you giggle as his kisses turn more into little nips.

He chuckles against your skin, setting you more upright again as he meets your gaze in the mirror. “Are you sure you don’t want serious stress-relief tonight?”

You playfully roll your eyes, turning to face him and holding him by the waist. Jungkook is always especially warm there, huggable and pliable. “Only if stress-relief means cuddles.”

“But baby,” he whines softly. “Isn’t sex like…a bare necessity?”

Stunned, you snort at his words. Even if you won’t deny that it’s a little funny, you can’t believe he just made a Disney pun about sex. He got you pretty good there. Sadly, his grade A joke doesn’t get him any further with you.

“You know what’s also a bare necessity?” you say before giving him a soft peck. “Having a relaxing shower with your girlfriend without getting handsy.”

Jungkook stares at you.

You grip his bare waist more firmly. “I’m just tired, and stressed, and all I want right now is to hold my boyfriend — for him to tell me it’s all going to be okay. Can we just do that for tonight?”

He nods now. It’s probably the excitement, or the guilt he must’ve been feeling. His eyes have changed, his posture straightening up. You can’t blame him for not realising how stressed you actually were, you’ve been hiding it pretty well. But when he pulls you into a hug you’re relieved he’s as understanding as he is.

Despite Jungkook’s incessant ability to whine to get his way, he will quit when you’re being serious. He knows you well enough, doesn’t walk on eggshells around you like lot of people do. Just because you get anxious easily doesn’t mean that you’re to be treated like a sensitive child. On the contrary, you want to live life to the fullest, and Jungkook’s helping you do that.

It’s nice, the way he kisses you gently as he undresses you further.

“Can you keep it in your pants?” you ask as you turn the water on. The shower is large, but you know you won’t be needing much room. As always, Jungkook likes to stick as closely by your side as humanly possible.

He raises his eyebrows. “Do you think I have no self-restraint?”

Mimicking him, you raise yours too.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he sighs. “I promise, no frisky business. Now please get in the shower I’m going to freeze.” He shivers audibly and visibly, the hairs on his arms standing up in the cold bathroom.

The water on the other hand is warm, and you immediately feel your muscles relax as you get under the stream. Jungkook follows you, pressing himself tightly against your back as you let the water cascade down your bodies. You hand him the soap, letting him lather you up slowly and thoroughly. He massages the knots in your back and shoulders, thumbs digging into the muscles that are still aching from the long car ride.

He knows not only you, but your body, and you let out a satisfied little moan as he rubs the back of your neck. In response, he chuckles, kissing your temple and continuing his massage.

“Kook, if you want you can massage me properly later. Let me wash your hair before we shrivel up.” You motion for him to turn around as you fetch his shampoo from the sink. It smells like orange and cloves, a calming scent that now reminds you of him. He’s always preferred more natural scents over the ones that are usually used in things like men’s deodorant. It’s not something he’ll admit to, but he often steals your deodorant because he thinks it smells better.

His hair is soft, a strawberry blonde now from where he’d dyed it cherry pink on a whim weeks ago. When he’d come home with his new hair your pillow cases had already been weeping, but you’d surprisingly grown to love it. For all the years you’ve known him, his hair colour has ranged mainly between dark, chocolate brown and black. Seeing him with pink was like a breath of fresh air, and blonde is doing just as well.

It takes a lot of care, to keep his hair soft despite the bleaching. So you thoroughly massage the strands and rinse them out. He loves it when you wash his hair, it calms him as much as it calms you. He’s grown silent beneath your touch and you’re afraid he might just fall asleep on you. Driving for over six hours definitely wore him out.

Jungkook silently returns the favour, turning you around and washing your hair with care. He even goes as far as to put conditioner in and brush out all the little knots. There’s a comfort in the silence between the two of you and you find your bad mood clearing up more and more.

Once clean, Jungkook insists on drying you off, and you giggle as he wraps you into this huge, pink, fluffy towel. “Are you feeling a little better?” he asks when you sit wrapped up on the closed toilet. Another little quirk of your boyfriend is that he has to completely dry his hair before he goes to bed, so you watch him quickly take the blowdryer and turn his hair into a mess. You get a good look of his back muscles as he does so.

“A little,” you hum. You’re still stressed — mentally at least. Your body however is ready for snuggles and sleep. “I’m going to get dressed, don’t overheat your hair.” When you pass him, you press a stray kiss into the cusp of his shoulder that now smells like oranges and cloves.

As usual, you wear on of Jungkook’s oversized t-shirts to bed. The fact that he wears tighter shirts to bed than he does when he goes outside has always been a mystery to you. Just another one of those little things you learnt to love about him. His shirt is huge on you, the white material soft and lightly scented from a recent wash.

Your heart flutters a little when he exits the large bathroom, his hair all fluffy and soft. It makes him look a lot younger than he is, though many people often take him to be older. Luckily, you’re aware that he usually acts younger, his pouting and whining attesting to that. You love him no less because of it, if anything it makes you love him more.

Jungkook is very attuned to the people around him, he’s observing and caring. Depending on the situation he can be more serious, or childish — definitely one of his strong suits. The one thing about Jungkook that you wish would change is how hard he could be on himself. Something that shines through now as he stares as you sitting on the edge of the large, canopy bed.

There’s an awkwardness in his steps as he pulls his shirt over his head, a hesitation to join you on the bed. You grasp his hand, pulling him to stand in front of you so you can look up at him.

“Jungkook, tell me what’s on your mind.” There’s callouses on his fingers that are rough against your palm as you hold his hands tightly, slightly swinging from side to side.

He sighs, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry.” There’s a little waver in his voice that you know all too well.

You stand up quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. He sinks into you, arms hugging you tightly around your waist — so tight you can barely breath for a moment. The slight nuzzle of his nose into your still damp hair hides the shakiness of his breath as he tried to hold himself in.

“It’s okay Jungkook,” you say as you run your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, “I just thought that coming here would make you feel better, because you’ve been so stressed the past months. I completely overlooked the fact that you wanted something actually relaxing. I just wanted to make you feel happy and I fucked up.”

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “Look at me.” He casts his eyes up and you’re glad to find them void of tears. “You didn’t fuck up. You tried your best, I know you did this for me and I should’ve been more appreciative. Lets just go out tomorrow and see how it goes.” You kiss his cheek, smiling gently at him.

Luckily, he eases up, returning your hug once more before catching you off guard by throwing you onto the large bed. You almost scream when you bounce on the soft mattress.

“If you throw me around one more time jungkook! I swear to God I will smack you!”

He laughs at your dramatic state, pulling the sheets from under you and quickly settling under them. Jungkook holds you as close as possible. Luckily for both of you, the air-conditioning in this room is good and you can comfortably settle into each other’s sides without sweating buckets. Not that that ever stops him, but it’s not something you’re particularly fond of.

His nose is pressed into your hair as you lay your head on his chest, right over where you can hear his heartbeat. He wraps his arms around you, fingers settling on your waist to make sure you can’t escape in the middle of the night. Sleeping like this is routine for you, even if you haven’t moved in together. Your apartment is usually your choice of home, and recently there’s been unfinished talks of the two of you living together — mostly in the form of fleeting comments and little jokes. But you really do think about moving in with him.

“Babe?” Jungkook whispers.

“Hmm?”

“Tomorrow, can you promise to give me control over the tickets and stuff? We can get a map and mark all the attractions we want to see first. We can get fast-passes and try to skip as many of the long lines as possible. Just let me take care of everything, okay? I promise I’ll look after you.” His voice is muffled by your hair and you seek out his hand to intertwine your fingers.

Giving Jungkook the control over the trip has you a little uneasy, only because you’re normally the one making sure everything runs smoothly. But, if you want to relax this might be the way to go about it. “Okay, I think I can do that.”

He tightens his fingers around yours, shifting into a more comfortable position. “If at any point you feel tired or stressed, we can just go back to the room. I want you to have fun, I don’t want this to drain you even more.”

You nod, pressing a small kiss to the skin just above his collar. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He settles into you, holds you and protects you from whatever may come. Like this you feel safest. Now you can relax and hope for sleep to find you. Nothing heals you more than being in Jungkook’s arms and you hope it’ll be enough to make you properly enjoy the next few days.

__________

The next morning you wake to an empty bed and you stretch your fingers over the spot where Jungkook was supposed to be. Waking up alone wasn’t how you planned to start this day. “Kookie,” you whine, still half asleep. There’s no reply that follows, and you turn onto your back with a huff. It’s not until his soft grunts reach your ear that you realise what’s going on. “Jungkook,” you deadpan. “Are you really doing sit-ups right now?”

“Yes.” His answer is short, the exertion clear in his voice.

You find him lying on the floor by the foot of the bed, exercising his stomach muscles — truly an unnecessary practice at this moment. His abs are great, they will not disappear if he decides to cut this nonsense and sleep in with you for once. “We’re on a holiday, can’t you like…rest for once?”

Jungkook collapses onto the floor, cheat heaving after completing his reps. He gives you a stern look. “I’ve explained you before that if I want to maintain strength and muscle mass I wi—“

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave him off, sitting up. “Just go shower, it’s already 9am.”

He laughs, bending over the bed on his way to come kiss you. His chest is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and you try to push him off when he starts kissing down your neck teasingly. He chuckles into your skin, your fingers trailing up his bare sides out of habit.

You know where this is going. After dating Jungkook for this long you know what makes him tick — post workout sex definitely being on his list of needs. It’s something you certainly had to get used to. With a hand carding through his hair you turn to kiss him him softly.

“Jungkook…”

He pouts. “But—“

“Oh please,” you chuckle. “I love you, I love having sex with you. You know that. But I’d rather not wear let you wear out before the day has even started.”

With a sigh, he plops down beside you. “But you’re going to be tired tonight, no?”

“Most likely.”

An exasperated groan leaves his lips as he gets up from the bed to go shower. He gives you one doe-eyed look, a playful one that contradicts his previous actions — he’s not usually this cute in bed.

You chuckle again. “If all you wanted on this vacation was to have sex with me, you should’ve gone for a resort. We could’ve had sex all day long. You’re the one who chose to spend money on a theme park — money that I refuse to let go to waste.” As much as you still weren’t looking forward to being amongst a mass of people and noise, you know you’ll feel guilty afterwards if you don’t go. Maybe you can take Jungkook upon his ‘stress-relief’ offer tomorrow. You’re certain he has some tricks up his sleeve.

He narrows his eyes at you, knowing very well that you have a solid point. If anything he can decide to jerk off in the shower because you’re not caving to him right now. It’s the price he’ll have to pay for taking you to Disneyland. Not that he would ever actually get mad at you for saying no. He’s no stranger to the fact that his sex drive is much higher than yours. You’ve never taken his pouting and slight begging as any sort of pressure, he never intends it as such. It’s just what he does, with everything.

Jungkook showers while you braid your hair in the bathroom and you have to keep wiping the mirror to make sure you can properly see yourself. The room is filled with the sounds of Jungkook singing Bare Necessities way too perfectly in tune even with the water pelting down on him. He showers quickly, and dries off only to meet you fiddling with the backpack in the bedroom.

“Stop that,” he says, pressing his warm chest into your back. The bag is taken out of your hands. “This is mine for today. You get to carry around your phone and your wallet. That’s it.”

You want to object, but you know what you agreed to the night before. Still, you’re stressed. You wonder if this is a good idea — you wish you could just snuggle back into bed with him again. Maybe you should’ve let him keep kissing you.

“Hey.” He turns you around, brushing his lips over the tip of your nose. “It’s going to be okay. What was it that Timon said? Hakuna Matata?”

“I think it was Pumbaa who said that.” Your voice is a mumble that dies into his kiss. His lips are indulgent, sliding over yours in a practiced manner. It’s a gentle kiss, one that comes with his hands smoothing down your back and your eyes fluttering closed.

Jungkook giggles into your lips when you stumble back a little, and he holds you from falling. “I’m pretty sure it was Timon.”

“Was not!” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes.

The discussion goes on for a while, he isn’t sure enough of his statement to pull out his phone and google it. Jungkook gets dressed, you put on your makeup, and you’re out of the door still low key squabbling about who exactly said Hakuna Matata first. Truly, you’re certain that you’re right, but you let Jungkook argue with pursed lips and wide eyes just because it’s cute.

Once outside you’re immediately hit with a mass of people. There’s a gigantic line in front of the park that makes you want to crawl back into bed. You should’ve left earlier, before the lines. This was a sign of how long of a day today would be, and you haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Jungkook takes your hand, interlacing your fingers and pulling you close to his side. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and those loose, dark grey pants he’s been wearing a lot lately. They have those little pockets and belts on the legs that look really good on him. Though, you’re still impartial to his tight, ripped skinny jeans.

In line, you don’t talk much, you’re a little overwhelmed with the amount of people and Jungkook tries to reassure you that it’ll be calmer inside the park. Maybe you do have a bit of an issue with crowds, or it’s just because you’re already stressed. Whatever it may be, having your boyfriend by your side makes you feel a little more secure. He seems to be holding himself back a for your sake, normally he’d be jumping up and down in a situation like that. After all, he’s still a kid at heart.

The crowd does disperse a lot inside, and you walk around freely near the entrance area in search of some food. You opt for donuts and some hot chocolate, walking further down to find a calm place to sit. You’re amazed at how beautiful the park is — all bright colours and pretty building and you stop to stare at the big castle marking the centre. It’s tall, and you wonder if you can go up to the top.

Jungkook chuckles as you stop, hand still clasped around yours. “We can go there if you want.”

You look up at him. “We can ?”

He nods, both his hot chocolate and your bag of donuts in one hand. “Yeah, I think you can take the stairs to the top. Would probably be a good workout for your cute butt.”

“Jungkook!” you scowl. “We’re in public!”

He’s laughing, bright smile showing bunny teeth that earned him one of the nicknames you use for him — sparingly so. He doesn’t always like being called ‘bunny’, especially around his friends. It’s cute that he lets you call him that sometimes, it’s something that just sort of slipped in.

The same way that Jungkook manages to easily slip you off to one side of the park after you’ve finished eating your breakfast. You immediately find yourself standing in line for an attraction. It quickly becomes clear why he chose this one. The Buzz-Lightyear themed ride features a shooting aspect and boy foes he do a little victory wiggle when he beats you.

You‘re not sure if he intentionally chose this, but you find yourself way more focused on the ride than your stressed out feelings when you go for a rematch. With all your power and ability you try to do better, but Jungkook still beats you by far. So, he gets to choose the next ride. Conveniently, his choice is right next door.

With a gleeful grin he pulls you towards the dark building housing some sort of rollercoaster. Space…something? You’re not sure because as soon as you’re inside the dark passage way for the line he pulls you into his chest and kisses you. It’s full of smiles and lingering touches and you find yourself seeking support on his shoulders as he stands against the wall. Both your arms circle around his neck as he lightly sucks on your bottom lip. There’s tingles running up your spine as he parts your lips with his, a soft groan tumbling from his throat.

You’re soon interrupted by the sound of people coming through the hall you’re currently hiding in. Jungkook parts from you, quickly turning to guide you forward as if you weren’t just starting to make out right there. With flushed cheeks you reach the end of the line and Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear about almost getting caught just now.

Where he seems unbothered, you feel a little more uneasy about it. Though, you’re not sure if the pounding of your heart is because Jungkook kissed you out of nowhere like that, or wether it is because people almost caught you. The feeling of his lips on yours lingers and he gives you a knowing look, leaning in to peck your lips a few times in quick succession.

You find these — you’re not even sure what to call Jungkook catching you off guard like that almost every other place you go to. Kissing him like that feels a little risky, but you can’t deny that you struggle to focus on anything else but him when he kisses you. Like the way he folds his fingers over your hips, or how he slides them into your hair. The warm feeling of his lips and the slight tease of his tongue against yours. It’s toe-curling.

“Jungkook,” you chuckle as he kisses you by the carousel. “There’s kids here, stop this.” His hand hovers dangerously low on your back and you shove him with your shoulder. The laugh he lets out fills your chest with warmth and you make sure he doesn’t stray too far from your side.

By now you’re certain the shape of his fingers is moulded between yours. He makes sure to keep holding hands when you’re walking around at all times. It’s comforting as you follow him around the park. Luckily, you’ve already gotten to see the one attraction you marked on the map, the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad.

Now, you find yourself joining the line to the Teacups even if you’d just eaten a bunch of snacks. Jungkook pulls you to lean against his chest as you wait in the shade. You toy with one of his bracelets as he places his hands over your stomach, kissing the top of your head.

Someone suddenly pulls your boyfriend’s shirt, making both of you look down to find a little boy standing next to you with a Mickey Mouse shaped lollipop in his hands. “Don’t you know she has cooties?” the kid exclaims with wide eyes.

Both you and Jungkook laugh at the comment. “Well,” Jungkook starts, pecking your cheek. “I’m not afraid of her cooties.”

You step on his toe in warning, worried that he’s going to make this weird somehow. “Jungk—“

“Why not?” the kid questions as the mom takes his hand and shoots you an apologetic look. Both of you wave it off.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Jungkook lets go of you to get on his hunches in front of the boy. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her very much.”

You blush as his words as if he doesn’t tell you he loves you every single day. Yet, it’s still strange to hear it come out of his mouth like this to a stranger.

The boy stares at him in awe, little eyes wide and confused. “So you ‘re like Aladdin and princess Jasmine?!”

Jungkook smiles wide with a nod. “Yes, exactly like that. And one day,  you will find your princess too.”

At his words the kid immediately scrunches up his nose. “Ew, no! I don’t want a girlfriend!”

The conversation is sadly interrupted by the line moving on, and you find yourself laughing until your stomach hurts as Jungkook does his best to make your teacup spin as fast as possible. Both of you stumble over yourself when you exit, holding onto the rails and eachother white painful check from how wide you’re smiling.

Later, you find yourself slowly climbing up the countless flights of stairs in the castle. You said you wanted this, but the burning in your legs makes you regret your decision. Jungkook on the other hand seems fine, and you curse yourself for not going to the gym with him more often. The pain is worth it though, from the top balcony you can look out over the entire park.

Jungkook is holding you tightly to him and you turn to look up at him and seek out his lips. They’re sweet, and he seems a little taken aback that you’re the one kissing him this time. He responds with a small gasp followed by a sigh, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as the other rests over yours on the balustrade. This time however, the kiss lasts longer, both of you forgetting that you’re not alone. His tongue slips past your lips and you meet him halfway, kissing him with a slight smile. Your toes curl at the feeling, so full in your chest. Jungkook dips a little deeper, nose brushing against yours while you trail a hand up his back.

The second you hear someone clear their throat you stop, cheeks turning red and hiding your face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He  apologises under his breath, nosing into your hair while both of you calm down a little. Your chest is pressed against his and you force your stomach to stop fluttering in excitement.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Jungkook whispers in your ear.

You nod, following him down the stairs and finding yourself in a shop trying on various weird headbands. Most of them have Mickey Mouse ears in various colours, but you opt for the ones that are a plain black, checking yourself out in the mirror.

Jungkook has briefly left your side to go check out the t-shirts. His sudden whisper in your ear scares the living day-light out of you. “Please fuck me with those Mickey Ears on.”

You whirl around, relieved to see that nobody is near but you smack him in the chest anyways.

“Hey!” he yelps, rubbing his harmed peck.

“Jungkook! We’re in public, you need to stop trying to rile me up!” you squeal.

He frowns, stepping closer. “Is it working?” There’s a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows that indicates he’s joking but you still shoot him a glare. “Well, I for one think that I’ll be thinking about that kiss just now for a few days.”

Quickly, you cover his mouth with your hand. “Stop it!” It’s half-hearted, because you laugh while doing so. It’s the lick he gives to your palm that makes you retreat. You wipe his own spit on his shirt with a scowl.

Jungkook ends up buying you the ears, saying that they do actually look cute on you — not that you don’t believe him. It’s just that now you’re actually thinking about having sex with him while wearing them, which is not much of a pleasing thought. He really knows how to get you just annoyed enough to pout at him but never annoyed enough to get you angry. A magic line.

“So, where to now?” he asks, munching on a cookie.

“I know that it’s not here, but I want to go in that hotel thing.” You remember seeing it on the map when you were eating breakfast, and it looked really fun. Normally, you’re not one to go for scary rides, but that one looked interesting. That said, Jungkook will pull you to do anything so you’re gradually being forced out of your roller-coaster fear. He just needs to stop joking about taking you bungee jumping.

Eventually, Jungkook manages to navigate you back to the entrance and towards the other park where that ‘hotel thing’ is. Well, it doesn’t appear to be what you thought it’d be. You quickly find yourself holding onto your boyfriend’s arm as you are shoved into a tiny room with a bunch of other people.

“Don’t worry, it’s just part of the show,” Jungkook whispers into your ear as he strokes his fingers up and down your back. Meanwhile, your eyes can’t stop eyeing the screen on which an eerie video starts playing. It’s upon the loud crashing sound of thunder that you jump and Jungkook has to shield you from whatever is happening. Once you enter the next waiting aree, he’s laughing about it. Sadly, your heart Is still pounding and it takes him a few seconds to realise that you’re actually terrified.

His laughter quickly dies then, and he spends five minutes hugging you and trying to make sure you’re okay — even asking if you want to leave. To this, you shake your head. You’re determined to stay because you didn’t just go through all of that to just walk out. Jungkook holds your hand, all the way into the elevator.

He doesn’t let go once the ride goes up, and you squeeze his fingers when the ride suddenly free-falls thirteen stories. Your stomach lurches and tingles with the drop, a scream being forced out of your lungs followed by ecstatic laughter when the ride goes back up.

Once you exit, you’re giddy, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Jungkook follows you, catching you around the waist and crashing his lips to yousr for what seems like the hundredth time that day. However, this time it’s different. His lips are demanding, forceful on yours and you let him slip his tongue into your mouth to seek control. The way he suddenly moans into you has a shiver running up your spine.

His blonde hair is soft as you grip it, Jungkook not stopping. He keeps kissing you, swallowing all the little sounds you make as he nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip. Your fingers dig into the back of his neck, scratching lightly over his scalp. Your heart pounds and you feel like your floating. Both of you part with swollen lips and flushed cheeks — one look between the two of you is enough to know.

“Hotel room?” Jungkook asks, wiping a little smudge of lip balm from under your bottom lip. His are stained with the tint, and inviting sight.

You stare heaving chest, no longer paying attention to whoever might have just seen you make out with him. “Yeah.”

Now he’s excited, smile beaming and making butterflies erupt in your stomach. Jungkook and you all but sprint to the hotel room, rushing through the crowds, laughing and kissing on your way there. You stumble into the room, making out well before you get the door open.

Jungkook’s tongue slides into your mouth again and you keen, fingers digging into his shoulders. The door is shut, and the adrenaline finally starts to dissipate from your veins. Your heart steadies, the kiss slows, until the two of you are just lazily making out in the middle of the room. There’s little timid moans coming from his throat and you muffle them as you keep the kiss going. The same floating feeling appears again, gentle and steady as he holds you.

Kissing Jungkook has always been amazing. It’s something he does very passionately and tenderly. He’s able to tailor his kiss to the moment and right now, his kiss this is all you need to finally let the last bit of worry slip from your fingers. You realise — as he stops kissing you — that aside from your little breakdown in the Hollywood Tower Hotel, you’ve been having an amazing day. It’s been all smiles and laughter and just pure enjoyment. You haven’t even thought about work, or anything worrisome ever since you entered the park.

Is Jungkook’s strategy working?

He’s panting against your lips, forehead resting on yours. It seems as if words are lingering on his tongue but he’s unsure of how to say them — hesitating. He brushes his nose against yours.

“You okay?” you ask.

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, I just — I want to make sure you’re feeling okay.”

You frown, leaning back a little. “Yeah, I’m great, why are you asking all of a sudden?”

A sigh leaves his lips, fingers tightening around your waist. “I feel bad about whining for sex, and I don’t know if you want to right now or if I’m still overstepping.”

“Overstepping?” you repeat. “Jungkook, you were never overstepping baby.” You touch his cheek, making sure he keeps his gaze on you. With your hand in his you pull him to sit down on the bed. “Don’t worry about such things, I know you’d never to anything to pressure me. You stopped playing and whining as soon as I said I was serious. All is good bun.”

The same pout you are mentioning appears on his lips, slightly jutting out as his eyes widen in concern. “I just feel bad.”

“Well,” you say, swinging a leg over his and settling in his lap. “You don’t have to. I trust you to respect my boundaries but if you’re really worried about overstepping we can always be more explicit with consent.”

“How?”

Your fingers trace the collar of his white t-shirt, his hands settling firmly on your waist as you rest on his thighs. Jungkook awaits your words with parted lips, cheeks still tinted a slight pink. Every word you said was truthful, you didn’t think he would feel this way about his own actions. In your eyes, Jungkook’s soft begging is just a cute quirk, not a manipulative trick. Hell, he whines even when you do give in to him.

There is one solid way to make your point however. You slowly trail one hand down his chest to grip the waistband of his pants through his shirt. “Do you want me to suck you off, baby?”

His eyes widen, eyebrows raising to disappear under his light fringe. “Are you being serious?”

You let out a chuckle, breath fanning over his cheek as you lean in to his ear. “Very serious. I think you deserve a reward for taking care of me so well today.” Your fingers settle tighter around his waistband, fingers pushing the fabric of his shirt deeper. “But only if you want to.”

“Yes, please,” he begs almost, eyes fluttering closed as you place a soft kiss on his earlobe. Immediately, he turns more pliant upon you peppering soft kisses down his jawline and neck, soft sighs emanating through the room. The faint scent of orange and cloves still lingers on his skin from his showers, but it’s mixed with the faint smell of sweat and his perfume. It’s familiar, and almost comforting. He presses your chest to his, a tempered moan breaking his resolve as you properly settle over his crotch.

It’s never taken a lot of work to get him going, he’s as eager as always. Eager to please, and to be pleased. Jungkook is never static, never the same, and tonight you can feel his willingness to give you some of the reigns.

“Will you undress for me?” you ask, kissing back up to his cheek.

Jungkook looks at you, still coming back from wherever his mind had wandered as you kissed him. He shakes himself, licking his lips. “Wait, when you’ll give me a blowjob, do you mean…” he trails his words, too shy to speak what he’s thinking.

This is why you never worried about Jungkook crossing boundaries — you had a really long and hard talk about it when the two of you became more serious. Both of you were completely transparent about what you liked and disliked and neither of you ever went past that. When Jungkook gives you a doe-eyed look you know what he’s asking, and you’re willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, I do. So undress for me and lay back on the bed.”

Now he gives an eager nod as you slide off his lap. You turn your back on him, walking over to the suitcase to retrieve some stuff in cause you’d need it. It’s never certain how things are going to play out for the two of you, but you’re happy to see that Jungkook has listened to your request.

He’s sitting against the mass of pillows by the headboard, only wearing his boxers that fit snugly around his hips. There’s no denying his obvious arousal already straining against the light blue fabric. It gives you a sudden surge of pride, knowing that you can turn him on so easily.

The way his expectant gaze falls upon you makes you grow even bolder. You unbutton your jeans, slowly sliding them down your legs as he watches, no words spoken. There’s no rule for that, but you quickly learnt with him that he likes being obedient from time to time. It’s something you’d originally been hesitant about, but after one try you’d definitely learnt to love it.

Once you have discarded your jeans, you crawl over the bed, sliding your hand up his bake leg. You whisper his name, kissing up his stomach. He hums in reply, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as you keep going up and up and up until you reach his collarbone. There, you slightly sink in your teeth. “I said, undress. That means everything.”

He blushes all the way down to his chest as you speak softly into his skin. Under you, he shifts, quickly getting rid of his boxers and laying down more properly.

“Good, now relax for me baby.” With a hand on his chest you reassure him. You kiss back down his chest, mouth hovering briefly over his nipple to flick your tongue at it and watch him arch his back into it. The little gasp he lets out is like music to your ears.

By the time you’re done lavishing your mouth over his torso he is fully hard and waiting for your with squirming hips. You press him down, and he whines in the back of his throat as your fingers brush so close to where he needs you. Though, he knows you won’t go down on him until he lays still, so he obliges with your gesture.

“Please,” he begs as you suck on the skin right under his hip-bone. He marks so easily there, you can never resist to nibble a little firmer.

“You ready?” you ask, tracing a pattern with your tongue right beside the base of his member that lays hard on his stomach.

He nods again, eyes shut tightly, head buried in the pillows. “Yeah, please just — fuck.” He groans loudly, fist coming up between his teeth to stifle his sounds as soon as you put your tongue on him.

You lick up from base to tip, savouring the salty taste of him as you curve to tease right under the crown. It drives him insane — he’s very sensitive. The second you wrap your lips around his tip he bucks his hips into your mouth and you have to give him a warning pinch at his side. He stills with a whispered apology, trying to control his breathing as you put your mouth back on him.

He is hot, twitching as you swirl your tongue around him. Jungkook whines — a gorgeous sound that you know you’ll hear a lot more of tonight. There’s nothing that makes him come faster than your mouth sinking down on his cock and sucking hard. He loves it. This is why most of the time, blowjobs are reserved for quickies — or a very long drawn out session that has him coming more than once. Tonight, it’s the latter.

You sink down, hand steadying him as you stretch your jaw to accommodate his length. With your tongue flattened at the underside, you hollow out your cheeks and start a tight rhythm that has him moaning loudly before you even manage to take him all the way. His sounds are like a symphony, sweet and drawn out. You’re spurred on by it, taking a deep breath before letting him slip into your throat.

Jungkook’s the one who chokes, hand coming up to your hair to hold you down. You breathe steadily as you let him, looking up to find him still with eyes closed. To grab his attention you touch him, hand sliding up his stomach to brush over a nipple.

“Babe — shit.” His words die as soon as he sees you looking up at him with glazed-over eyes and his cock stuffed in your mouth.

You chuckle, vibrations sending him into a frenzy. There’s no need to draw this out, you know he won’t last long. So you set up a steady bobbing, lips closed tightly around him as you watch him intently. His eyes are set on you, unable to look away as you make sure to flick your tongue over his slit every time.

The second his stomach starts to tighten under your hand you know to choose for pace over depth. Tonight, giving him head is only a means to a further play, one of which the thought alone could arouse him.

That’s the other reason he’s already bowing off the bed in pleasure. He grumbles, hand sliding from your hair and whining that he’s close.

You slide off with an obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. The sight of him so lost is enough to make you want to touch yourself, but you know that you’ll get your fill. It’s just a little more waiting.

With a tight grip you stroke him just right, short little bursts right over his tip. He moans, back arching off the bed again and then, you stop.

Jungkook trashes, blonde hair sticking to his forehead, lips pulled into a tight line as he hovers on the edge.

“More,” he whimpers as he sinks back into the mattress, breathing ragged.

You follow his guidance, wrapping your hand back around him to take him that little bit further — giving him that extra push until he —

Jungkook’s hand flies up to your wrist, stopping you mid motion as he twitches. You stare, his cock jumps once, twice, until cum starts to dribble from his tip. His entire body shivers, fingers almost bruising around your wrist as he moans softly.

As he comes down from his ruined high you straighten up, sliding your absolutely soaked panties down your legs and sitting over his lap. Jungkook’s eyes snap open the second he feels you over him. His hands immediately flying up to your thighs, fingers digging in.

“Wait,” he pants, trembling as you wrap your fingers around the base of his member again.

You soothe him, stroking him once to get him to whimper with overstimulation. There’s a little pool of cum on his stomach and you trail a finger through it, spreading it over his skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers as you stroke him again. After his peak he remains half-hard. Ever since you accidentally ruined his orgasm once, he’s gotten more and more into it.

With a small kiss to his chest, you meet his eyes briefly and shift up to position him at your entrance. “You ready?”

Jungkook whines again, fingers digging deeper into your thighs. There’s going to be bruises tomorrow, but you can’t care. Each little movement of your hand causes him to twitch and brush against your core as he’s slowly growing fully hard again.

“Words Jungkook.”

“Yes — fuck — yes, please.”

There’s nothing else you need to hear, finally letting him slip inside. You’re so wet and aroused you barely feel the stretch of him as the head breaches you easily. Jungkook shivers, thighs trembling as you sink down slowly. This is still one of the first times you have sex without a condom, and you’re still not prepared for the feeling. It’s like you can feel ever little ridge and vein as he presses against your walls. You have to hold yourself steady on his chest. Getting an IUD was the best decision you ever made.

Jungkook trashes violently, stomach muscles tightening as he hisses when you clench down on him. You can’t help it, it feels so, so good. It’ s divine and you feel your entire body quivering as you sit up. He slides even deeper, a choked moan coming from you as he hits all the right spots.

“Wait,” he croaks when you go to move, fingers tight on your waist to keep you to him. “I feel like I’m going to come already — just please wait.”

You listen to his words, spreading your thighs to rest comfortably. He slides so deep you have to control your own pelvic muscles, but you manage to relax a little as he waits for his sensitivity to pass. His chest heaves so beautifully, muscles straining and covered in sweat. Jungkook trembles, hands attempting to hold you as still as possible.

There’s nothing that could’ve prepared you for how good this would feel, and having him still bask in the pleasure-pain of overstimulation under you is only adding to your arousal. You don’t think either of you are going to last long this way. With deep breaths you try to control yourself a little, hands soothingly rubbing his sides.

His breathing slowly evens out, and you draw a hesitant circle with your hips. He groans, but doesn’t stop you. You don’t move much, just a gentle back and forth of your hips that is enough to make both of you moan loudly. He’s so hard — you can feel every inch of him inside of you — it’s too good.

You take his hands from your waist, interlacing your fingers. This you use to steady yourself, hands leaning on his as you slowly start to move more and more. The slide is smooth, the friction just right, and at the angle you have he brushes over the bundle of nerves inside of you every time you sink down.

There’s something intimate about this moment that makes your heart swell. The way you’re holding hands, how his eyes keep skimming your body only to settle back onto yours. His pupils are dilated, almost completely black as he holds your gaze. Every single time you bottom out he falters a little, lips parting with a gasp.

“More,” he groans, straining his neck.

Sliding your thighs close to his body, you lift yourself until only the tip of him is inside. Then, you slam down, ass smacking against his thighs as you do so. You repeat, picking up a slow, hard pace that has him groaning deeper and deeper.

There’s a change in him, the locking of his jaw, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Jungkook’s brows furrow as he closes his eyes, grumbling something under his breath as you try your best to keep your rhythm despite the burning of your thighs. You’re growing tired even as your pleasure keeps building. You try to focus on him, the way he reacts to you, in order to stave off your own impending peak.

Jungkook lets go of one of your hands, gripping your ass firmly instead. He zones in on where he can see his dick disappearing between your folds, your thighs shaking from exertion. There’s an ease in pressure as he helps lift you — guiding you into a more smooth rhythm that has you almost collapsing forward. He knows the angles, knows where you like it best — more so than you do.

“Kook,” you whine.

“Can we switch?” he asks, voice deeper than before.

It’s not unusual for Jungkook to take a sudden change like this. To go from being absolutely wrecked underneath you, to fucking you hard in a few seconds. “You want to top?”

He gives you a firm look. It has you almost whimpering. “You feel so good bare like this,” he says. “I want to make you come.” His voice has morphed into a deep drawl, ruined from moaning and whining. You can feel the vibrations go straight to your core and when you clench you find yourself pathetically whimpering at the sensation.

You’re close, too close almost, and you know he must be too. The way he twitches inside of you is a tell-tale sign. There’s no way he couldn’t be, with how good it feels to have each other like this — intimate in the dirtiest way possible.

“Okay,” you breathe, taking your last bit of strength to slide off him slowly. Both of you hiss loudly when he slips out, cock slapping down onto his stomach. It’s wet, your juices having dripped all over him and your thighs.

Where you barely have any strength left, Jungkook helps you roll over and finally pull your shirt and bra off your body. You find yourself on your back, nestles comfortably against the pillows as he kisses you. That is what you missed, that little thing you needed to feel complete. His mouth, warm and familiar, kissing you deeply as one of his hands massages your thigh. A pathetic little sound comes out of your mouth as Jungkook reaches between you to grab himself and tease your folds with his tip. He keeps kissing you all the while he does so.

“Jungkook,” you moan, nails digging into his back and legs wrapping around his waist. “Just — yes.”

He slides home in one smooth trust, bottoming out and pausing with his hips pressed flush to yours. Your open-mouthed kiss has a soothing feeling that makes your mind swim easily. The way he feels inside of you, the slight stretch, it’s even better at this angle. That, combined with his tongue languidly gliding across yours — you’re seeing stars already. Little tingles dance over you skin.

“I love you,” Jungkook whispers against your mouth.

“I love you too.”

It’s as if he’s spurred on by the affection — suddenly moving with a new-found vigour. He goes steady, smooth and shallow. He makes absolutely sure to hit all the spots you need him to, circling his hips every time he bottom out. He doesn’t falter when you start clenching down on him not when his own moans start to pick up. Even when you whine his name he keeps on steadily. All he is focussed on right now is making the two of you come.

That delicious feeling pools in your stomach, climbing and climbing until it’s strung so tight you have to beg him for that little extra push. “Please, Jungkook.” You slip a hand between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit.

“No,” he almost growls where his head is hidden in the crook of your neck.

Withdrawing your hand immediately, you close your eyes tightly. He feels amazing, rubbing against your walls. Jungkook laps up the side of your neck, licking and sucking at random intervals. One of his hands finds yours, fingers intertwining beside your head. Your heart fluttering easily at the gesture.

Like this, you feel more connected than you ever have. With his face buried in your shoulder, hips and chest sliding against yours as both of you moan in chorus.

There’s a heavy feeling in your chest, one that adds to the one inside your core as you run your fingers through his hair.

He leans up to look at you, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure and lips red from kissing you. “I want you to come like this — fuck.” There it is, your own little crux. Like overstimulation for Jungkook, dirty talk is the one thing that will send you straight over the edge. “Want you to come from my cock only. Can you do that for me baby?”

You nod quickly, fingers brushing his cheek. “Kiss me.”

He does, lips moulding over yours as he increases his speed more and more. Your hand that isn’t intertwined with his, scratches down his back, coming to grab at his ass to spur him on. He presses his hips flush to yours, rolling motions making you feel his length entirely. How snug he is inside of you, the pressure of it — you can feel yourself tumbling towards your orgasm fast.

Jungkook keeps rutting into you, trying to hold himself back for you. You can feel it in the flex of his muscles, hear it in his strangled moans that are drowned out on your tongue. “Fuck, I’m so close,” he groans. “Come for me.” The consistent drag of his cock against your walls combined with those words falling so naturally from his lips are enough to send you over the edge.

You can’t even warn him on time. With a silent scream you fall apart around him, body shuddering as he presses his chest to yours. Jungkook holds you, grounds you, fucking you steadily through your orgasm.

The stars behind your eyes slowly disappear as Jungkook’s moans peak and he comes with a grunt inside your still twitching core. His hand tightens almost painfully around yours as he does so. You moan as soon as you feel him come — the sensation of him cum filling you up entirely new. It’s warm, and as he rides out his high you’re almost sent into overstimulation yourself.

He stops right as you whimper, still lodged deep inside of you — as is his cum. “Fuck.”

You let out a giddy sound, a wonderful feeling spreading through your body as you stroke his sweaty hair. Jungkook’s still half lying over you, legs tangled as he softens inside of you. “Baby,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the top of his head.

“Just a little longer,” he mumbles into your chest, mouth grazing your nipple. There’s no urgency, no purpose behind the gesture — Jungkook just gently kisses and sucks at your chest and neck as you both come down. It’s warm, snug, and you feel so full everywhere. Your fingers tremble, still holding his hand tightly over your other side.

He reaches his free hand down between your legs, spreading your sensitive folds where you’re still connected and sliding his fingers through the mess he finds there. There’s a gentle warning before he pulls out slowly. You hiss at the feeling — whimpering as soon as his cum starts to dribble out of you. Jungkook can’t stop looking at it, entranced by the sight of your pussy dripping with him.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he mumbles, fingers sliding over your folds to collect the mess and gently press it back inside of you. “We should’ve done this sooner.” In between the look of pure captivation and lust, there’s a sense of fondness as Jungkook gently toys with the mess between your legs. You’re still sensitive, and he’s wary of it, only slightly pressing inside of you.

You let him, basking in the feeling of him enjoying you so much. There’s love in his movement, care in his touch that smears over your thighs. “Kookie,” you whisper, grazing between his shoulders.

He looks up at you, eyes slowly softening as you both withdraw the veils of pleasure. “You okay?”

“I am. I just want to go clean up. ’S that okay?” You caress his cheek, stroking the smooth curve of his cheekbone. As he leans in to kiss your palm you smile, knowing that this is where you want to be for the rest of your life — in Jungkook’s arms.

Slowly, he helps you up, body tired from the entire day. As much as you both loved this new feeling — Jungkook coming inside of you — he still helps you diligently rinse yourself in the shower. You’ll probably get used to it, especially if he’s going to run you a bath every time you have sex now.

You find yourself sitting between his legs, head resting against his shoulder as he rubs soothing circles on your stomach. It’s peaceful, no words need to be said but you speak them anyways — because you want to. “I love you so much.”

As if startled by your confession, he stops his motions, taking a few beats to answer you. “I love you to. But — and don’t get me wrong — why are you saying it like that?”

To your own surprise, your throat constricts as you sit in the tub with him. He was so attentive, making sure that all your needs are met before he even considered sitting down with you. You’re certain not a lot of guys would do the same — you are lucky with him. He is one of a kind and you wish you could hold on to him forever. “Nevermind,” you whisper, holding the tears that sting in the corners of your eyes. From this angle, you’re sure he can’t see.

His lips glide over your shoulder. “No, it’s okay, you can tell me.”

A deep breath reveals how unsteady you are, and Jungkook looks up in concern at the tremble. “I just love you — a lot, and I want us to last. I want to have you in my life for a very long time.” You speak so silently you fear he might not have heard. “I think you are the most beautiful, gentle, and fun person I have ever had the chance of being with and you know me so well. You’re always here to take care of me. I enjoyed myself so much today, I didn’t even think about anything bad the entire time we were out. And I don’t want to loose that happiness you give me — I don’t want to lose you.” You’re rambling and Jungkook’s awfully silent, lips and nose pressed into your shoulder as he listens to your words. “Can you just…stay with me?”

“Where else would I go?” he asks, wavering voice giving away his emotions.

You shrug. “I don’t know. Away?”

He shakes his head, kissing your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere babe, I promise.” Jungkook cradles you closer, folding you against him as you lean to press your forehead to his temple. He lets you, fingers slipping between yours where they are home like you are home with him.

You don’t cry despite the lump in your throat, because you feel too happy to cry — too safe. The feeling of loving him — being loved by him — it’s overwhelming you so suddenly. It’s settled deep in your chest and you find yourself craving him closer even like this. “Move in with me?”

“Okay,” he answers, so easily that you’re stunned.

“Are you serious?” You ask wide-eyed, twisting to look at him properly.

Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes. “Yeah, I’ll talk to my landlord when we get back. I’ve been meaning to ask but I wasn’t sure if you were…ready to take that step yet.”

You shake your head at him vigorously, almost slipping in the tub when you lean up to kiss him. “I can’t wait to wake up next to you every day,” you mumble against his mouth.

His lips stretch into a smile, even feeling it is more than enough to make your heart flutter. “Me too.”

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