#and some other miscellaneous fellows lol anyway

[piyo13sdoodles]

part 2 of my at the feet of the sun-themes inktobers! part 1 is here. yes, there are two 17s because i screwed up my dates, it's fine, we're not worrying about it

[noddytheornithopod]

Started playing Jedi: Survivor! Gonna post miscellaneous thoughts I’m having as I play through it. For reference, I’m also playing on Story Mode (I just want to be safe cuz I have no idea what will be thrown at me lol).

And of course, if it wasn’t obvious, spoilers under the cut.

So we begin with Cal being “captured” and taken to this Pau’an senator (the same one as in the first teaser). He seems to be like a big shot... or at least is hoping to become one, since he’s hoping to gain the Emperor’s favour by saying he caught a Jedi. It’s really just a ruse (the cops holding Cal are actually fellow rebels working for Saw Gerrera), and well soon stuff gets crazy.

Probably the most notable issue so far is framerate? Like, for reference, I’m playing on PS5 and am using Performance Mode (it would be pointless to do anything else since my TV only has a max 1080p resolution). It’s not exactly bad, like it definitely isn’t the nightmare that PC players seem to be experiencing, but I find that especially between the transitions between gameplay and cutscenes it can get kinda choppy. I get why the cutscenes have a lower framerate, it’s so they look more cinematic, and honestly I’m more than fine with that, but the transitions and even a few gameplay moments feel slow.

Also maybe it’s just because I already know how Fallen Order played and I’m also on Story difficulty, but I think the opening level dragged out a bit too long? It makes sense it’s an easy and simple level, but eh, who finds tutorial sections fun anyway, lol.

On the other hand, being in the Coruscant underworld was a pretty cool opening setting. There’s a lot of narrative parallels to Fallen Order already, and there’s parts of Coruscant that actually remind me of Bracca in some ways. Many parts looked a bit dark, but IDK if that’s just my TV or what, but that aside it all looked cool.

Nerd moment: the first enemies you fight being the patrol troopers from Solo was fun. What’s more fun than killing stormtroopers? Killing COP stormtroopers.

Bode seems cool, I guess. I do feel like them emphasising the monetary involvement he’s working with Saw for is gonna come into play later on though, like if someone offers him more to pay for him and his kid he could pull something on Cal. Also they introduced the buddy AI system, which lets you tell your friend to do certain things, and command them to help you in fights. IDK how effective it will be (especially on Story mode where so far I’m cutting through Stormtroopers like nothing lol), but it’s still cool to have your pal show up and fuck with some enemies.

Cal’s already got some fun quips, but I’m also interested to see he already seems darker. Like, when they eventually capture the senator, he basically makes a death threat, but what really stood out to me was when you learn the confusion power. Like, he literally says something like “I don’t think Cere told me to use it like that”. And like... that line only made me think of Ezra at the start of Season 3 of Rebels even more than already recalling Ezra puppet that walker off that base. Two Jedi who feel like they need to do more to stop the Empire and Dark Side, but are flirting with darker tactics to get there.

So Ninth Sister returns. The way she talks almost makes it sound like she’s some recurring enemy Cal keeps running into. KESTIIIIIISSSSSSSSS!!!!! But yeah she’s the first boss (which feels a lot like the first Trilla fight on Bracca, speaking of which another parallel has Cal pull a Trilla on one of the gunships surrounding them). Cal... fucking decapitates her. It’s an interesting moment to me, another sign he’s darker of course, but I’m getting a lot of different feelings here. Like on one hand, he doesn’t seem to relish it at all, even trying to reach out to her, even calling her Masana Tide, her original name before she turned dark. But on the other... he’s like “I’ll set you free” and decides who must live or die. Like sure, Masana wouldn’t listen to him, she’s just full of rage and pain, but still, playing executioner like that was still a dark moment to me.

I should also mention the lightsabre stances, because the boss is where you first lean dual blade. So far... I’ve barely used single blade, lol. I’m fine using double and dual blade for now, honestly. IDK how it is on harder difficulties, but I think they compliment each other nicely. Double blade for crowd control and more defensive fights, and dual blade when I feel like being more offensive. Also, nerd brain just thinks it’s neat to have a sabrestaff you split and put back together.

Controls are mostly similar, there’s some slight changes here and there, I’ll get used to them with time probably. Force powers still work as expected. I’m a monster that loves using confusion to make enemies fight each other, lol. It IS cool that it can’t work on all enemies though, like purge troopers are immune since they’d obviously be trained to resist mind tricks, some creatures you can’t seem to affect I guess because they’re just too weird or whatever, and you can’t use it on droids because they’re not organic. Making Bedlam Raiders kill their own droid underlings they’re in charge of is funny.

Oh yeah, Koboh. Only gotten up to Greez’s cantina and I just stopped right after I found the part we need for the Mantis, but it already feels massive. Interesting scenery too, like it reminds me of a savannah in like Australia or even Africa. Also, I’m guessing the bogling population came from the Mantis stowaways in Fallen Order, lol.

The minimap is much more helpful actually. Still a bit complex, but there’s a lot more notified to tell you where you can go and even traces where you’ve come from, and it helps give clearer directions on where to progress too. It’s not so easy like say Lego Skywalker Saga where the default just lets you follow markers that tell you exactly where to go, you still need to look around sometimes to find how to progress or solve a puzzle, but for someone like me who can get stuck for pretty stupid reasons, it is handy to have these extra hints.

So the scene with Cal and BD looking at old footage they had of the crew together was definitely sentimental. It seems to be around or soon after Fallen Order since the characters still have their looks from that game, but it’s nice to see the times they spent together, and you can tell how much Cal misses them all even if they all parted ways.

On the other hand... we got TWO Greez salt jokes within the span of a few minutes. They KNOW and they really want to remind us, lol. First, one of the videos displayed has Greez say to Merrin say something like “too much salt is bad for you”, which well, yeah, the irony is obvious. There’s also what used to be the Mantis’ terrarium now holding some old belongings, and one of them was Greez and salt related, I think it was his salt shaker? But yes, salty Greez fans, you will not be disappointed.

The locals at Koboh seem interesting enough so far. Little frog due and big Klaud dude! Rayvis had an... interesting first impression. Like at first he’s all shouty and dramatic to the point where I found it a bit much, but after Cal kills his enforcer, he actually starts acting more honourable and subdued? Hard to read guy, I guess. Sounds like he’s building to something, though I have no idea why harassing people on some Outer Rim world is necessary for that. Like, the people in the bar talk like they just show up and cause trouble because they can. Cal stepping in to defend the frog dude was cool though, nice reminder that at heart he’s still a Jedi even if I have... questions about some of his new tactics, lol.

Greez reunion! Was a pretty sweet moment, honestly. And there’s also a sassy droid at the bar who co-runs the place (I think their name was Monk?). Greez is rightfully concerned about Cal though, like Cal misses the crew but it sounds like his own obsession with fighting the Empire was a key factor in what caused the rifts to form in the first place. Something definitely seemed to happen with Cere especially, like when Cal talks about Merrin Greez is like “actually I was asking if you’ve spoken to Cere”. Cal does lose it for a moment, too. He feels like because he might be one of the only Jedi left, he has to shoulder that responsibility to fight the Empire. It’s kind of like the opposite to Obi-Wan’s situation - right around this time, Obi-Wan has given up hope and thinks it’s pointless to do anything, while Cal is so into the fight it seems like it’s consuming him. Like, Greez made this room for Cal to chill in even for a bit, but Cal’s all GOTTA GET ON THE MOVE. Also, for more parallels, a callback to the sleep talking scene, lol.

Anyway, stuck underground and Cal noticed something weird, I’ll get to it later and we’ll see what else happens!

[sqarletsworldlesswandering]

Hello there fellow Worldless Fan!

Got any fun headcanons or theories?

Hello hello! (Gosh y'all are so welcoming, I love it-)

Hrmmmmmm. I don't have a ton of headcanons (yet), but I can certainly come up with a few, lol. Mostly for the personality of our beloved duo.

Edda:

Strikes me as the more "professional" of the two (I mean, look at her idle-). However, this is more true early in the game, while we're still chasing Aven.

That said, when actually revving for a fight, she's more akin to a chihuahua in my head. Smol, but Will Fight You. Also true early on, and just takes on a more chaotic undertone as you progress and she has someone to Protect.

She has impulse control, and half the time knows something is a bad idea, but will do it anyway if she's riled up enough. This also tempers out a (very) little bit, and shifts from "I'm gonna do it anyway" to "Let's see if I can scare the living daylights out of Aven."

Has a serious playful streak, once she get's comfortable. Especially when dashing hither and thon and sprinting across water (Aven refuses to accept any challenges to a race after getting fooled once). I like to think this surfaces after merging with Aven, and that beforehand she was too focused on being "professional" to indulge. Aven gets her to chill a bit.

Aven:

The more casual, even-keel of the two, but early on also a bit chaotic compared to Edda's markedly militant undertones.

Also the more playful by default. He seems like he would have a good sense of humor.

That said, I also envision him as being a little more reserved up-front, given that after the initial awakening, he opts to run rather than fight. I always pictured that as a mix of fear, calculation, and reservation, with emphasis on the reservation since something very new just happened, and he needs to process that before he tries fighting the other participant in that.

(Edda: "He asked for no pickles.")

I also envision him as the rest of Edda's impulse control when her inner chihuahua wins out. This is also the part where he develops grey hairs every time she decides scaring him with a stunt would be fun.

Both Edda and Aven have their aggressive streaks, but where Edda has the aforementioned chihuahua vibes, Aven is more of a porcupine/cactus - he prickles at you, and glares at you, but would also like to deter you from starting the fight if he can, and if he can't, he ain't instigating.

Less of a personality note, but that scarf of his is somehow immune to water (joking off of how in-game it continues to flap underwater, and doesn't get soggy and weighed down), and Edda is jealous. (I would like to think that at least once she snags the end of it to use as an umbrella.)

Some other miscellaneous stuff:

Aven would 100% braid Edda's hair if she lets him (which she might, later on).

As much of a fuss as he makes of it, he doesn't actually mind her using his scarf as an umbrella (even though it doesn't work very well).

Aven is the one who likes taking time to explore, and encourages Edda to slow down and enjoy things (I base this largely off of how Edda has faster movement).

The fight with Angel? Yeah, Aven ends up taking back-seat for that one, and not even because he wanted to, but because Edda has found a Groove and he's not sure he wants to interfere with it.

A similar notion is true of fighting Demon, if for...different reasons. (Basing that both on the angst potential, and on the fact that I pretty much only used Aven for evasive maneuvers and fire in that fight.)

Anyways, that got long-

I will add more as more comes to me, and knowing me it will eventually, lol. Hope you enjoy the headcanons!

[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.

[carcinized]

Hey hey hey I don’t have Tumblr BUT I saw your post about C!Tubbo dissociation headcanons and here I am, asking for them. And possibly more C!Tubbo headcanons. Preferably angsty. Just. Any of them. Please. Thank you.

oh, a fellow starved c!tubbo enthusiast. hello there, i do have some headcannons to spare luckily, hope you enjoy!! mostly this is the dissociation ones but i have some miscellaneous ones & songs at the end for you :]

so obviously uhhh tw for dissociation/depersonalisation/derealisation in this post!!! also going to put them under the cut bc this is long lmao

oh and disclaimer: this is very much based off my own experiences with (near constant) chronic dissociation so it might be different from other experiences!! yeah.

oh ALSO this is disorganized and probably missing stuff because i am going through a bad bout of spaciness as of right now, so apologies if anything is confusing, feel free to ask for clarification!

idk background timeline stuff so it fits into the story

at first he didn’t even realize he felt disconnected from things. it started off as a coping mechanism during combat and felt so similar to the feeling of being “in the zone” he’d known before that he didn’t question it

after a bit, it spread from only being there during battle to during conflict in general. still, he didn’t mind it—it actually made arguments more bearable because they felt almost secondhand.

eventually he came to use it as a crutch so much that it became constant.

that was when he started wanting it to go away.

and then because i can’t bear to give my precious c!tubbo constant dissociation he probably gets breaks from it sometimes idk lmao

his experiences:

gaps in memory

auditory processing issues

lots of depersonalisation and not recognizing himself in the mirror (which is even more fun/terrifying if you add in shapeshifter headcannons)

a lot of the time he feels like his actions aren’t his, which helped him to feel less bad doing morally ambiguous things (spying, exiling tommy, hunting technoblade, etc)

after it all he was left with near constant dissociation almost all the time.

it nearly always feels like the world is secondhand to him and he has no control/impact (ironic considering the power he has, and he knows that, but)

often wonders if he is dreaming and just waiting to wake up from a coma he’d gotten from one of his many battles.

when things get really bad he wishes he could just wake up from it.

often doesn’t recognize his hands looking down at them, especially with the burns he has now. they’re not his hands, right? but they are. they’re his hands. huh.

uhhh examples of where it could have been shown in plot if you squint lol

for example, that famous clip of him dancing while wilbur and tommy argue in the background would be a physical representation of him zoning out (dissociating) to get out of/away from an argument.

the whole yes man thing could have either been an auditory processing issue where he replied yes to wilbur without hearing what wilbur had asked OR a gap in memory where he didn’t remember telling tommy the opposite

he pulled away for like 5 months into snowchester and talked to hardly anyone but his husband and son. dissociation is hard to interact with people during because you feel so isolated for so many reasons—sometimes you feel you’re the only real thing there, sometimes it feels there’s a glass wall between you and everything else that IS real. and even ignoring that, most people can’t relate to feeling that way, leaving you even more alone. he could have pulled away because it was too much too keep going through that (i did that don’t recommend it tubbo JSJD)

miscellaneous headcannons that i don’t see very often:

after winning a battle, his instinct is to play a disc and look out at the sunset because that’s what he and tommy always did (see his lore yesterday (june 18th)—he did it with ranboo despite tommy not being there)

i’m rather fond of my original-l’manberg-citizens-consider-haircuts-and-fixing-up-appearances-affectionate-because-wilbur-did-it headcannon so i’ll add that here—basically wilbur gave everyone military cuts and new suits and everything. and while that was just for war, it was also because he cared about all of them. ever since, they all considered fixing up someone’s appearance an act of love.

tubbo refused to let anyone cut his hair after the red festival, not trusting anyone. he would probably let ranboo do it now, only he’s rather attached to the way it hides his burns and some of his horns and keeps him warm in the freezing snow.

he builds walls like how tommy builds cobblestone towers—a reflex, a coping mechanism, a habit. he built the l’manberg walls and ever since the defense has been second nature, whether for the best or the worst.

ive been waiting forever to share these i have way too many. i pass the hours staring out the window listening to misterwives and imagining c!tubbo animatics to it and now i have a chance to share them oh my god

so without further ado,

c!tubbo animatics i have in my head:

whywhywhy by misterwives: ok this one isn’t chalked out but it has him vibes

alone by misterwives: just him and ranboo. figuring things out. helping each other heal. i legitimately have an entire animatic in my head to this lyric by lyric and could make a fucking storyboard for it if only i could draw. if anyone wants me to write out lyric by lyric what it WOULD be though feel free to send an ask aHAHHAHAHA

over the rainbow by misterwives: a montage of c!tubbo just. finally going apeshit. that would be so cathartic alright and it’s such a badass song he deserves it

it’s my turn by misterwives: pretty much any times that tubbo finally got to do something back at someone who wronged him—the butcher army going after technoblade, him yelling at quackity about borders saying “well don’t i get to put my foot down too?” the lyrics “i know you’ve got your version of the story, i’m sick of saying sorry, i’m sick of always having to explain” during his spy arc PLEASE he had to justify everything he did and the “are you happier?” comment and schlatt breathing down his neck aAAAA give my boy a break (also the instrumental uses a lemon demon-type sound which makes me think of ranboo so i love imagining a cool bee dup building the outpost montage there snhshagahffn)

find my way home by misterwives: idk the vibes just fit man

oxygen by misterwives: hhhrnggg clingy duo angst oW

i did say i spend a lot of my time listening to misterwives and daydreaming c!tubbo animatics didn’t i?

anyways yeah. here’s some c!tubbo content to help us poor starved c!tubbo enthusiasts :’D also misterwives propaganda go listen to them female led band with a fucking badass lead singer with banger songs and incredible vocals and lyrics ANYWAY

[satanssmutcorner]

Smutty Blog Introduction

Hello fellow earthlings! I’ve been debating for a while now on whether or not to become more active on this platform. Given the short nature (ish) of the content here, it seems like a good option given that I’m currently quite busy with Uni and other life stuff in general, but still feel that writer’s itch and wish to write down thoughts and ideas to explore some creative avenues. Now, for that to happen, I’m more than happy to take requests, given that I’m a part of quite a few fandoms. I’ll also add the characters I’d be willing to write for, so you guys get an idea as to what to expect.

That being said, this is a blog largely dedicated to all the smutty fics I come up with, so it’ll mostly be one-shots, drabbles, headcannons, NSWF alphabets, etc. I reserve the right to not write certain stuff because, well, I might not be into it (this includes underage stuff and noncon, straight off the bat, sorry, that’s just how it is). Other than that, please feel free to send me an ask of a request. Under the cut are a list of characters I’ll happily write for since I’ve watched/binged the show and have plenty of inspo for them. If you can’t find something to your liking, please shoot me a message anyway an we’ll see if we can work something out.

Actors/Celebrities

Actors I’d consider writing preferences, imagines or one-shots for, and any other characters they might have played in movies (as well as scouring the internet for pictures and mood-boards):

Ralph Fiennes,

Christoph Waltz,

Willem Dafoe,

Jason Isaacs,

Alan Rickman,

Iain Glenn,

Stephen Lang,

Charles Dance,

Robert Carlyle

David Thewlies

Cliff Simon

Javier Bardem

Bill Nighy

Tim Roth

Joe Mantegna

Hugh Laurie

William Fitchner

Michael McEalhatton

Timothy Dalton

Michael Sheen

Robert Sean Leonard

Claes Bang

Goran Visnjic

Oded Fehr

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

J.R. Bourne

Sebastian Roche

Jack Davenport

Colin Firth

Mark Strong

Henry Ian Cusick

Aiden Gillen

Alexander Skarsgard

Stephen Moyet

Mads Mikkelsen

David Tennant

Sci-Fi

Stargate (Atlantis, Universe and SG1) Characters:  SG1: Jack O’Neill, Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, Ba’al, Cameron Mitchel, Vala Mal Doran, General Landry,  Selmak/Jacob Carter, Martouf) Atlantis: John Shepherd, Teyla Ammagen, Todd the Wraith, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett)  Universe: Nicholas Rush, Cl. Everett Young, Tamara Johansen, Camille Wray, Chloe Armstrong, David Telford, Varro, Ginn, Simeon, Amanda Perry, Commander Kiva)

The 100  Charaters: Clarke Griffin, Marcus Kane, Octavia Blake, Lexa, Echo, Raven Reyes, Roan) 

Star Trek (For now only Discovery and a few of the main characters from the older series such as TNG, Enterprise, etc) Characters: James T Kirk, Uhura, Spock, Scotty, Leonard McCoy, Jean-Luc Picard, Data, Odo, Worf, Jonathan Archer, Paul Stamets, Saru, Gabriel Lorca, Phillipa Georgiou, Sylvia Tilly, Sarek, Leland.

Battlestar Galactica Characters: Admiral William Adama, Dr. Gaius Baltar, Nr. 6, Boomer, Starbuck.

Terra Nova Characters: Nathaniel Taylor, lol.

Westworld Characters: William/The man in Black, Delores, Mave.

Fantasy

Harry Potter Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Rufus Scrimgeour, Minerva McGonagall.

Games of Thrones Characters: Jorah Mormont, Tywin Lannister, Petyr Baelish, Roose Bolton, Khal Drogo, Daenerys Targaryen, Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Eddard Stark, Oberyn Martell, Bronn

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina Characters: Zelda Spellman, Faustus Blackwood, Madam Satan

Supernatural Characters:  John Winchester, Ruby, Crowley, Lucifer, Balthazar, Naomi.

True Blood Characters: Eric Northman, Russel Edgington, William Compton, Jessica Hamby, Sam Merlotte, Alcide Herveaux, Pam.

Vampire Diaries Characters: Stefan Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert, Katherine, Elijah Mikaelson, Mikael, Alaric Saltzman, Bonnie.

Reign Characters: Mary Stuart, Sebastian, Kenna, Stephan Narcisse, King Henry II, Gideon Blackburn, Aloysius Castelroy.

The OA Characters: Prairie, Hunter Aloysius Percy (HAP).

Penny Dreadful Characters: Malcolm Murray, Vanessa Ives, Ethan Chandler, Brona Croft, Dorian Gray, Victor Frankenstein, Dracula, Dr. Henry Jekyll.

Grimm Characters: Nick Burkhardt, Juliette Silverton, Captain Sean Renard.

Miscellaneous

Aquaman Characters: Nuidis Vulko, Arthur Curry, King Nereus.

Hannibal Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Dr. Alana Bloom.

Kingsman Characters: Merlin, Harry Hart, Lancelot, Whiskey.

The Lighthouse Characters: Thomas Wake

Pirates of the Carribean Characters: Hector Barbossa, Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swan, James Norrington, Armando Zalasar

Spiderman Characters: Norman Osborn

John Wick Characters: Marcus, Viggo Tarasov, Winston

[staytheb]

Scenery

Pairing: SF9′s Youngbin x OC [Seul] || TBZ’s Sangyeon x OC [Yeon] ] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 3,453 Summary: Seul and Yeon are having a female-only bonding time before attending to their respective bosses after the outing.

Warning: none... i’m pretty sure.

hello! it’s been awhile hasn’t it? had writer’s block but eventually found some inspiration and came up with this. anyways, this is the Office Life with Yeon and Seul which i’ll make a separate post soon as it’ll get crowded later if i continued writing for these pairs lol but yeah, i think that’s about it. so happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Yeon held a large leaf in hand whereas Seul held the clear umbrella over them with one hand as the sisters looked at one another with smiles on their faces to which they posed for the so-called candid shot in request of their mother and soon-to-be stepmother.

"Ooh, lovely, girls!"

Narae exclaimed as she proudly took the picture of her two daughters before looking over at her ex-husband's fiancee.

"Don't you think, Sanghee?"

"Yes, Narae. They're quite lovely."

Sanghee then glanced at Jangmi in her arms.

"Right, Jangmi? Mommy and Auntie Yeonnie looked pretty, huh?"

"Pretty! Pretty!" Jangmi cooed with a laugh as Sanghee continued speaking.

"That's right. You can't tell that they were annoyed with us at all throughout the day."

Jangmi agreed with a happy-go-lucky attitude as the older women chuckled leaving the younger two to eyed them a bit annoyed. Of course Jangmi had no clue what was going on besides knowing that she was having a grand time.

"Obviously." Yeon curtly responded while fingering the plant between her index finger and thumb before handing it to Jangmi.

"When y'all wanted to talk about the future of our soon-to-siblings, I didn't expect to be out here at Dream Forest having a grandmother-mother-daughter-granddaughter-auntie-niece whatever bonding time."

"Yeah," Seul agreed while handing the clear umbrella to her daughter as Sanghee set her down as the little one ran about them.

"Although I don't really mind, but we haven't even talked much. Just sight-seeing."

"If we did that, then we knew that Yeon wouldn't come." Sanghee explained with a knowing look.

"Um, yeah."

Yeon shot them a pointed look.

"I wouldn't even be wearing this dress if it was my choice."

"But you look so beautiful, my daughter." Narae cooed. "I can't imagine how you'll look at the wedding for Sanghee and Kisuk soon."

"Or for yours and Yongin." Sanghee added with a similar attitude.

Both women gushed at the idea of their weddings, but also that the other three would be a part of it. Yeon's face scrunched at both possibilities being very likely soon as Seul shoulder her with a mischievous look.

"Yeah, two events where you'll have to be all dressed up."

"Ugh. Don't remind me. I still have to go dress shopping for Sanghee's engagement party."

"Yeah, you still have several weeks before then." Sanghee smiled as Yeon sighed tiredly.

"But I still have to get dressed up."

"Oh, you'll live." Narae told her eldest daughter before taking another photo with a grin.

Narae took a few more of her  granddaughter.

"No wonder you get that from her." Yeon remarked to Seul as the younger sister chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways," Seul changed the topic, "What else is on the agenda for today?"

"Nothing really." Narae answered with Sanghee nodding.

"Yeah. We mainly just wanted to get away for a few hours."

"Seriously?"

Yeon was not amused.

"We could've gone literally anywhere outside of Seoul for a better scene."

"Well, technically, it was more for the two of you then us." Narae explained with a sheepish look. "Sanghee mentioned some incidents at work and we both agreed that the two of you needed some relaxation in your schedule."

Sanghee held up a hand in her defense.

"To be truthful, it was just our idea. Kisuk is still unaware that the two of you work at EDAM since the both of you have applied under an alias."

"Okay, but y'all still could've just told us that, too." Seul said with a firm tone. "It's not like we're three."

"That's quite true." Narae agreed before shooting her daughters a knowing look. "But the same goes for the two of you when applying for a job outside either family's workplaces. You could've just rejected the positions we had aligned for you."

"Nah, Dad would've forced us either way."

Seul remarked as Sanghee nodded knowing that was the truth.

"Yes, that's true. Kisuk seems like the type."

Narae changed the subject a second later.

"Yes, he very much is. Anyways, let's get lunch on our way back home. Jangmi you're hungry, right?"

"Yeah! Food! Let's go!"

Jangmi charged on ahead as the umbrella and leaf in each hand moved about her in motion while the quartet followed suit with smiles on their faces. The quintet enjoyed a nice meal at a nearby restaurant while discussing Sanghee's engagement party as well as the future of the newborns. After that both Narae and Sanghee went about their own day leaving the trio to return home after stopping by a bakery along the day.

"Can Auntie have some of your milk bread?"

Yeon asked her niece while placing her hand near the said dessert.

"No."

Jangmi declined with a giggle as she moved the treat away from Yeon's reach.

"Are you three, too?"

Seul questioned her sister with Yeon frowning.

"Um, yeah I am because that was mine before your daughter wanted to trade because she didn't like the mango yogurt."

"Then you should've just ordered her the same thing than let her decide."

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted Jangmi to decide for herself since she liked how the drink looked."

Yeon went back to eating the yogurt while watching her niece happily tear apart the milk bun. Seul scoffed with a knowing smile.

"Sucks for you."

Yeon ignored her as Seul answered a call that came shortly after.

"Hello?"

Seul immediately muted the call while facing her sister.

"Um, it's my boss. I'll be back."

Seul patted her daughter's head.

"Mommy got a call, okay. Be good for Auntie Yeonnie, okay?"

"Otay!"

Jangmi responded cheerfully as Seul cast the two a smile before standing and walking out of the shop. Yeon watched her sister before facing her niece.

"If auntie buys another one, then you won't take that one, right?"

"No."

Jangmi giggled while chewing a piece of the condensed milk bread as Yeon knew that her niece was lying, but smiled anyways.

"Hey," Came Seul's voice as she returned, "I have to run some errands for my boss. Will you be able to watch Jangmi alone?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Do what you gotta do." Yeon told her sister.

"Thanks."

Seul patted her daughter's head.

"Mommy gotta work. Be good for Auntie Yeonnie until I'm done. Okay?"

"Otay. Love you."

Jangmi puckered her lips as Seul leaned closer for a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, and Mommy loves you, too."

Seul returned the same gestured before leaving with the umbrella that Yeon handed to her.

"Okay, so it's just you and me, MiMi. What do you wanna do after this?"

~~~~~~~

"Thank you for taking care of this errand on short notice, Ms. Lee. I really appreciate it."

Youngbin thanked Seul with a grateful smile as she brought him the Milkis cake from Tous Les Jours for a business function at the Four Seasons Hotel. He noticed her attire with a slight frown as the pair met at the front desk.

"I didn't pull you away from a previous engagement, did I? You didn't get caught in the rain either, I hope."

Seul shook her head.

"Oh, no. You didn't and the rain was very light out, but you're welcome, Mr. Kim. Luckily, I was nearby after an outing with family."

She vaguely informed him as she knew that Youkyoung was supposed to have ordered the cake and have it deliver beforehand, but no order was made and it left Seul to scramble at the last minute on her boss' behalf. Youngbin was unable to get a hold of his secretary as well.

"Oh, okay. That's good to hear."

Seul cast him a small smile.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Kim?"

"No. I should be fine now. Thank you, Ms. Lee."

He looked about him before returning his gaze onto his personal assistant.

"Hopefully Ms. Seo will arrive and I won't have to bother you too much."

"Well, I am your personal assistant and it is my job to take care of errands and other miscellaneous things that Ms. Seo is unable to."

"Yes, very true. Well, Ms. Lee, have a wonderful evening."

"And the same to you, Mr. Kim."

Seul cast him one more polite smile before turning away. Her attention soon drifted to another part of the lobby upon recalling Sanghee wanted to have her engagement here at the same hotel. The hall was large and consisted of an indoor pool along with an amazing view. This piqued Seul's curiosity as she entered.

"Wow, this is really pretty."

She said to no one in particular as she moved closer to view the outside better, but avoided being close to the pool itself as she didn't have spare clothes to change into if she did get fully wet.

"No wonder Sanghee wants her party here. This will definitely be beautiful at night."

There were other guests of the hotel and of the business function scattered about in the room as well.

"Whoa, Yiseul Park, is that you I see looking so lovely right now?" Dawon said with a surprised teasing tone in seeing his friend and fellow colleague.

"What are you doing here?"

Seul turned and made a face at him using her real name.

"It's Seul Lee, remember?"

"Oh, right. Work-related. You and Yeon both. My bad."

Dawon chuckled as he neared.

"I thought you were on a family outing. Why are you working?"

"Youkyoung didn't bring the cake for your boss and I had to do it."

"He's your boss, too."

"Mmhmm. Anyways, why are you wandering around? Shouldn't you be mingling with the others and assisting Mr. Kim and what not?"

"The talk gets boring over the years and they have really long speeches that really makes no sense to which I don't have to listen in on as that's Youngbin's job. Anyways, I'm also trying to avoid a certain someone at the moment and do not want to meet their boss. By the way, you looked good in that dress."

"Thanks. You're not so shabby in your own get-up."

Dawon made a face.

"It's gets stuffy at times, but I can't wait until this is over and I could get out of this."

Just as Seul was gonna comment she was suddenly bumped from behind and stumbled into the pool.

"Yiseul!" Dawon called for her while turning to face the person that caused it.

"Seriously, Yuri?"

"It was an accident. It's not like I purposely did it."

Yuri countered. She was the person he was trying to avoid

"Right and the fact that you didn't  fall in either."

"I righted myself before I could."

Dawon ignored her.

"Yiseul!"

Seul resurfaced as she tread water to stay afloat while making sure all of her belongings didn't float away. Dawon called his friend's name and she waddle on over to him.

"I got you."

Seul reached for Dawon's outstretched hand as he pulled her closer to the edge of the pool. She coughed up the water as she breathed in air until her breathing returned to normal.

"What just happened?"

She looked at her friend as he motioned with his head towards Yuri.

"She happened."

"Who's she?"

"The one I mentioned earlier."

"I see."

Before Dawon could help Seul get out of the pool, Yuri pulled him away.

"C'mon. My boss is looking for you."

"Let go. I have other things to worry about."

"But she wants y-"

"I don't care."

"Dawon. It's fine. Just go before something else happens."

Seul told him as she managed to lift herself out of the pool and sat beside it.

"But-"

"I'm fine. Really."

"See, she's fine."

Dawon's jaw tightened as he looked at his friend. Seul gave him a nod that she was fine.

"C'mon, Dawon, let's go."

Yuri urged as she continued to pull on Dawon's arm. He shook her hold off of him with an annoyed look while casting his friend a worried look.

"Just call or message me when you get home. Okay?"

"I will."

"Alright, then. Take care."

"You, too."

Dawon cast Seul another concerned look before turning around and walking off. Yuri followed after him and tried to hold his hand, but he shook her hand away. Seul sighed wondering if the other woman thought she was competition, but recalled that she was the younger sister of Yuna. Seul scoffed at the idea that Yuri still clung to Dawn even after school when she knew that he would never like her back like that. Seul dismissed the thought as she wrung out her hair and dress with an even deeper sigh. Despite the whole dress being white she was glad that it wasn't see-through. She needed to dry off soon before returning home. Just as she stood up and had turned around, Youngbin was there with a towel for her.

"Are you cold?"

She eyed him weirdly not taking the towel.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Not that long."

He continued to hold the towel for her to take. She tentatively took it.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She placed it around her shoulders and noticed that he was still standing with her with no cake in hand.

"Shouldn't you get to the event?"

"Just some speeches going on that I just have to make sure to check in every now and then."

"Mmhmm. Well, thanks again. Where do I return the towel?"

Seul had removed the towel from around her as she used it to dry off the rest of her.

"Oh, they have a hamper at the changing room over there."

Youngbin pointed to the other side of the room that had a small area that disappeared around the corner.

"Okay, thanks."

Seul was about to walk off, but Youngbin stopped her.

"Hey, wait."

She watched as her boss began removing his suit jacket.

"Um, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, but instead draped the fabric over her shoulders. He cast her a cheeky smile as he secure the jacket upon her.

"You can return it the next time you see me."

"Bu-"

"Sorry, gotta go. It's in your care for the time being."

Youngbin rushed off with a playful smile as Seul was left staring after him with furrowed eyebrows. She sighed, but nuzzled into the warm clothing.

"He's so weird. I'll see him the day after tomorrow."

Seul didn't ponder on it for long as she returned the towel, made a call to her sister using the front desk's phone, and drove to meet them as Jangmi wanted to go shopping.

~~~~~~~

"Okay, MiMi. Mommy needs new clothes. Let's find her some."

Yeon informed her niece once they were on the fourth floor of the Shinsegae Department Store and had entered Lucky Chouette.

"Why?"

Jangmi asked while holding her aunt's hand as Yeon lead the both of them around.

"Something happened when she left. Let's pick something Mommy would like."

"Otay!"

Yeon received the call from Seul after she had explained what had occurred. Yeon thought it was stupid on how that played out, but told her sister that she was lucky she was in Myeongdong. Now here she was looking for something that Seul could wear for the mean time until they all got home. Yeon remembered her niece still had the plant from earlier and wondered why she hadn't tossed it.

"Jangmi. Why are you still holding the plant?"

"Because it's nice."

"I know, but it's becoming dried up. Let's toss it, yeah?"

"No. Auntie gave it to me."

"I know, but it'll ruin the other things here."

Jangmi frowned.

"But, it's so pretty."

Yeon reasoned with the child.

"Nex time, Auntie will give you something else, okay?"

Jangmi beamed as she handed her aunt the plant.

"Otay. Promise."

"Thank you and yes."

Jangmi giggled as she wandered a bit to choose something for her mother to wear as Yeon sighed with a smile. She knew her niece liked the piece of nature, but she really didn't want the toddler to spread it throughout the store and cause the staff to be inconvenienced. Yeon placed the plant inside her bag before focusing her attention on something for Seul to wear. Yeon had chosen a few pieces of clothing when she heard her niece called for her.

"Yes, MiMi?"

Yeon glanced at Jangmi and noticed that a little boy was with her. She kneel to be at eye-level with a concerned look.

"Hi. Jangmi, who's your friend?"

"This is Howon. He lost his uncle."

She introduced the other toddler as Howon held back tears, but still sniffled.

"Oh. Well, hi, Howon."

She glanced about her and wondered if the boy's uncle was still in the store or something. Yeon stood again to scout for the boy's uncle, but there were only other females walking about. She kneel to Howon's eye-level again.

"Um, where was the last time you saw your uncle?"

"I don't know."

The boy replied and Yeon wondered how she was supposed to find his family member.

"Okay. Let's go to the front and see if we can find your uncle, Howon."

Yeon decided to head to the front to purchase the clothes while informing the staff of what had occurred. Just when Yeon was informing the boy of his new situation, Howon became upset. In the end she left her contact with the staff while Yeoon took both children to Vecchia e Nuovo which was a restaurant and bakery on the same floor as Lucky Chouette. Both children were hungry and Yeon thought it would be better if they were still in the same area for the uncle to find his nephew. After ordering Yeon messaged Seul about the situation and a moment later her boss' name popped up calling.

"Hello, Mr. Lee?"

Yeon answered with a confused tone.

"Uh, yes. I'm Yiyeon Park. How do you know that? Oh, uh yes, he's with me."

Yeon glanced at Howon learning that he was the nephew of Sangyeon.

"Um, we're at Vecchia e Nuovo. Uh, yes, we've already ordered."

The pair were too engrossed with the menu as they made a game out of it to listen in on Yeon's conversation.

"Yes we're on the fourth level. Ah, yes. See you soon."

Yeon ended the call while looking over at Howon.

"Howon, you're uncle will b-"

"Uncle!"

Howon exclaimed upon seeing Sangyeon entered the restaurant a moment later. Yeon's gaze went to the male as she watched the pair soon hug while her boss informed his nephew that he shouldn't have wandered and all that other stuff. Sangyeon's attention went to his secretary.

"Thank you for watching him, Ms. Lee."

"Um, you're welcome, Mr. Lee."

"Hi."

Jangmi greeted Sangyeon with a smile upon remembering him.

"Hi, to you, too."

Sangyeon greeted in a softer tone than he did Yeon.

"Did you and Howon become good friends?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah, Jangmi gave me this."

Howon held the leaf that Yeon had put away earlier. She couldn't resist the pair when they begged to see and play with it.

"Yeah, it's a token from something earlier today."

Yeon shot Sangyeon a small smile hoping he wouldn't probed further.

"I see. Did you say thank you?"

"Mmhmm."

Soon the staff brought out their meal and Yeon suggested for Sangyeon to join them so that Howon could eat before leaving.

"I want to sit next to auntie." Howon stated as he moved to sit next to Yeon.

"You don't want to sit next to me?" Sangyeon asked.

"Nope."

"But I want to sit next to auntie." Jangmi whined as she stood off to the side.

"You can sit next to uncle." Howon suggested, but Jangmi frowned.

"No."

This caused Sangyeon to slightly pout as he played along with the kids.

"No one wants to sit next to me?"

The pair shook their heads as Yeon stifled a laugh which caused her boss to glance at her. Upon seeing his supposed hurt look Yeon couldn't help but let the words flow on out from her mouth.

"Are you jealous?"

"Not at all." He replied nonchalantly while composing himself.

"I see."

Eventually, Yeon managed to get Howon to sit with his uncle leaving Jangmi to sit beside her. It wasn't that bad as the quartet ate and talk for a while before Seul messaged her sister. Yeon decided to cut their meal short after informing Sangyeon about the situation with her sister. The four bid one another goodbyes before parting. Yeon hoped that her boss wouldn't ask about her real name and just let things be, but she received a messaged later that day with him asking if he should address her with Park instead of Lee. Yeon didn't respond and would deal with it on Monday.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Sorry if this could be a little annoying, but can I ask for you to explain all your days?? Like I know you guys do “Side character Sundays” or stuff like that, but I haven’t been here long enough to know any other days. And also explain any other events you guys do here? (I can’t find like a post explaining any of these :( )I’m very confused lol but thanks for all your work anyway, I enjoy all of them thoroughly!

You’re not annoying in the slightest sweetheart! ^_^ Miscellaneous Monday - Fluff, smut, angst, random characters, alphabets... absolutely anything we fancy. Monday is our day to relax and write what we’re in the mood to write! Thotty Tuesday - This is our smut day! Any light smut will be posted on this day. Woeful Wednesday - Our angst day. This is my least favourite day as it brings ALL the tears. But it really showcases how beautifully my fellow Mods write as they’re always bringing people to tears. Touching Thursday - To soften the agony from Wednesday, this is the day of fluff. All things cute, fluffy, romantic and loving. Freaky Friday - This is another smut day, but this is for the more intense stuff. The really kinky shit. You guys have filthy minds and this day will showcase it! Side Character Saturday - Our day dedicated to those without a route. As long as they are female or non binary, we’ll happily include them!Sporadic Sunday - Much like Monday, it’s another day for the Mods to write what they feel like writing without restraint. I hope that has cleared some things up for you! ^_^- Mod Viv

[ketchupfriesandfireguys]

First of all, I love your blog, bless this blog. Anyway, what kind of headcanons do you have for Grillby? One of mine's is that he can speak but it's very difficult to understand if you're not used to it (and Sans being one of those people that easily understands him--)

I love your blog too; your art is fantastic and I always try to put all your Sansby content I can onto this blog~

Firstly, I love your speech headcanon - I like that a lot, and it explains why he has translators in his restaurant, and why Sans seems to perfectly understand him without the need for his translator bird monster sitting at the bar!  It also makes his relationship with Sans real special, which I am ALL for!

I wrote out Grillby’s literal entire backstory here, but if you’re looking for just headcanons, skip to the last bit under the cut!

I’m going to separate this into sections because I love Grillby and spend too much time thinking about him, lol.  But here are all my headcanons!  Enjoy!

EARLY LIFE

Thanks to @sushinfood and his fantastic voice acting clips (which can be found here, at @sushistreams​, if you’re interested!), I share the headcanon that Grillby was not born, but summoned, in order to train up and fight in the war against humanity.  He did start out young, and he was at first extremely reluctant to fight in the war - he spent a lot of time training to fight, but was prone to tiring easily and becoming overwhelmed with the future responsibility to fight in an inevitable war.

In between intense training sessions, Grillby was taught by Gerson (the shopkeep in Waterfall) and King Asgore how to cook, as a method of diverting any fears he had into a constructive - as opposed to a destructive - manner.  And since then, he had always wanted to open a restaurant one day, after the war had passed, to keep up the morale of his comrades and friends, and to help his people (and himself) heal.  He also wore fake glasses at this time because he thought they made him look older and more mature.  (They didn’t.)

THE WAR

Grillby was deeply affected by his time as a soldier in the war.  Before the war, he was very talkative and could even be kind of goofy sometimes, similar to the way Papyrus jokes around in-game at times.  Smart jokes and passing comments that take a moment to digest before you have to turn away and snicker to yourself.  He was quite popular as well, being friends with a wide range of monsters - including but not limited to the king and queen, the royal scientist, and most of his fellow soldiers.

One monster in particular he was extremely close to was Sans’ mother, Arial, who was the previous leader of the Royal Guard.  Through a series of very unfortunate events, she perished in the war before Sans was born, and Gaster, Sans’ birth father, managed to save his newborn son.  (That’s a whole crazy story in itself that makes like -500% sense, but just roll with it for now.)

Losing Arial, the leader and front line general in the war, took its toll on the entire Royal Guard, and monsters were forced to retreat shortly after that, losing over half of their entire population - they retreated under the mountain and were sealed there, and the war concluded.

EARLY UNDERGROUND

Grillby, once underground, realized he could actually pursue his early dreams to open a restaurant - it took him a very long time to scrape up the money to do so, but he managed to get enough help to get a small, shabby bar set up in Snowdin.  (As for why he chose Snowdin of all places, he wanted to bring some warmth to such a cold part of the Underground.)  It was many years before it was actually running, let alone at all a popular hangout.

After this rough and straining transition, Grillby had a sharp shift in personality due to a severely negative morale of monsterkind as a whole, and was quite negative while not in his restaurant.  He dressed less formally, and while not on the clock, would smoke outside his restaurant.  (I like to think this was sort of a punk phase, and he may or may not have owned a motorcycle.  Might’ve styled his flames into a ponytail.  Definitely fought with the Canine Unit of the Royal Guard.)

MEETING SANS

Grillby met Sans during this not-punk-phase, during a smoke break.  He was not very keen on speaking with many other monsters (unless, of course, he was picking a fight, as noted above), and he mainly spoke in sign language after the war.  Sans, also knowing sign language, introduced himself, and quickly set up a tab at the restaurant, immediately getting on Grillby’s nerves.  Sans kept the tab open, even if just by 1G, in an attempt to rather smugly get to know Grillby a little more...intimately.

They started out as a sort of flirty “we’re not dating, what are you talking about” sort of couple.  Many of Grillby’s regulars took bets on whether or not they would ever actually date, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, Sans stood up on his stool after having probably one ketchup bottle too many and leaned over the counter and stole a smooch from the then-absolutely-flustered-bartender.

DATING SANS

They dated for a while during this time, even if the relationship was more physical than emotional at first.  As they began spending more time with each other, though, they learned more about one another - Grillby began to speak with Sans without signing, and Sans learned to listen a little harder.  Grillby grew to be a lot more formal as his restaurant grew much more successful over the years.

The two of them stayed in a steady relationship for a long time, until Sans suddenly stopped showing during the day, and only came at night, to either get handsy with him or to pass out miserably after getting absolutely wasted.  This, as one would expect, did not fly well with Grillby.

Grillby was the one who broke things off with Sans, but it was only after a lot of rather passive aggressive fighting that they actually did anything about their wreck of a relationship.  Sans didn’t take it very well, as he was dealing with resets at this time and was in a pretty deep depressive state, and Grillby was angry for a while - the kind of quiet angry that just sort of burns in your gut with a constant ache.

AFTERMATH

After the resets stopped, and monsters managed to get to the surface and stay there, Grillby was the very first monster to fully integrate with humans, because he (of course) had to open up a new restaurant.  Monster currency was worth a lot of human currency, and he could open up a nicer place than he ever could have dreamed of while in the Underground.  And, of course, Sans was one of his first customers there too.

They were tense at first, but there were eventual apologies, and they became extremely close after they were finally freaking honest with each other, who would’ve thought?  They began dating again after that, and they’re super dumb and flirty and punny with each other today!

MISCELLANEOUS HEADCANONS

Grillby lives not with Sans, but with Fuku - who is simultaneously like a younger sister and like a therapy dog to him.  Though, Grillby does stay over with Sans very often, and vice versa.

Grillby suffers from PTSD from his time serving in the war, and because of this, he is afraid of thunder and lightning.  Whenever it storms, Sans teleports over to his place and helps Grillby through it.

Grillby will do extremely un-Grillby-ish things, but only if he’s alone with Sans.  (Ex - screaming profanity after whacking his shin on something, telling the occasional Extremely Dirty/Inappropriate Joke, ugly laughing at something that really isn’t all that funny, etc.)

No one believes Sans when he says Grillby does these things.  Absolutely nobody.

Grillby is actually his last name!  His first name is Kindle.

He hates it.

Sans teases him about it all the time.

Grillby’s flames get brighter with stronger happy or angry emotions, and more dim with sad or upset emotions.

He used to cry a lot when he was younger, but he has sort of learned to repress emotions as he got older.  Sans hates this, despite doing this same exact thing himself.

Despite this, he does have big emotions sometimes!  Sans is usually not there to witness them, unless they come in the form of a panic attack.

Frisk calls him “Uncle Grillby” and won’t leave until he’s picked them up and given them a hug and held them on his hip for a minute or two.  Frisk has Grillby absolutely wrapped around their little finger.

On that same note, Grillby usually doesn’t particularly love children.  Frisk is a definite exception to that rule.

Grillby does need his glasses to see - it wasn’t from any particular incident or anything, though, he just needed them as he got older.

Grillby doesn’t have any teeth!

Despite being a chef, Grillby does not eat normal foods.  He tends to eat things that would kindle a fire!

He eats herbs during the holidays to make his restaurant smell like cinnamon or nutmeg.

If he is shirtless, you can see his soul through his body!

OKAY I’M DONE THANK YOU FOR READING

[1kook]

wong yukhei x female reader 


Summary: You can’t even begin to describe the disappointment that blossoms in your chest when someone rattles the doorknob and Yukhei startles, successfully ending your heavy make-out. 


This shit is smut y'all!!!!!!! 5.6k words of it!!!!
Hey this my first fic for the nct folks so please excuse any oc things I’m a lil rusty when it comes to xreader fic lol whoops 

Unlike high school, college was absolutely kicking your ass. Between the near constant deadlines and the awkward sleeping schedules, university life was completely unlike the easy ride you’d experienced during high school. Though you’d come from a large public school and had the pleasure of graduating with over two hundred other students, your university’s population was tripled. 

The population made it increasingly difficult to maneuver from building to building, and was even more troublesome when you’d have to attend your large lectures every Wednesday afternoon. The hall was ginormous to say the least, with rows of benches that went up for what seemed like forever. Though you’d thus far been blessed with a seat near the front of the board, you figured sooner or later you’d have to take the stumble of shame towards the very back of the hall. 

Unfortunately for you, that time came sooner than you’d like. It was already towards the end of the second semester, your hectic life as a college freshman was coming to an end, and you yearned to finally be freed from the awkwardness of being, well, a freshman. You still had to endure the last few weeks of second semester, which would surely be another challenge in itself. Being a freshman meant that literally any upperclassmen had superiority over you, and for the most part, weren’t very concerned with noobs like you anyway. Which is how you found yourself climbing towards the very back of the lecture hall, five minutes late, and extremely flustered. 

You prided yourself in recognizing a good handful of your classmates, especially those who often saved you a seat, or would be willing to move their stuff for you to pass by if you asked. For some reason though, that wasn’t really coming in clutch for you today, and the further back you went, the more upperclassmen you encountered, none of which you knew well enough to scoot by. By the time you found an accessible seat, you were already at the very last row. There was hardly anyone towards the back of the hall, save for a few stragglers whose only concern was receiving their weekly attendance points. 

Among those was Yukhei, a handsome upperclassmen you’d often seen at many of the frat barbecues, laughing obnoxiously loud. He was there, idly swiping through his phone, dyed fringe flopping over his forehead. He was undoubtedly attractive, and you’d like to convince yourself he was some hoodlum wasting his parents’ money away at college, but the results posted outside the hall clearly showcased him as some genius, who nearly always ranked in the top ten percent. Yukhei was smart as hell, and he was only a year older than you. You’d seen him many times, but you doubted he knew or even heard of you. 

You uneasily set your stuff down, and though you were at the very edge of the bench, with easy access to the aisle, you felt suffocated by Yukhei’s strong presence. He was every bit the dapper young man, sharp edged yet soft. He was seemingly unaware of your presence, long fingers tapping a beat on the edge of the table. It wasn’t until you clicked your pen that his attention flickered towards you, big eyes giving your a brief once over, and you had to contain a full body shiver at that. 

Yukhei was by no means some notorious womanizer, and you’d rarely heard of him sleeping around (you doubted he was completely pure, though), yet the absolute machismo he radiated was unlike any you’d ever experienced before. 

He blinked at you, as if he was completely unaware of the effect he had on women. By the way his doe eyes twinkled, though, you started to believe maybe he was blind to the effects he had on people like you. 

“Hey,” he said after a beat of silence, lips pulling into a taut smirk. It was by no means cocky, as it felt rather friendly. 

You were so distracted by the pull of those pink lips, that his greeting didn’t immediately register in your mind. “Hi,” you belatedly responded, the lecture in front of you long forgotten, pen halfway towards your notebook.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” he offhandedly mentioned, and you were mesmerized by the sight of his long fingers toying with his phone on the table. “I’m Yukhei,” he said, and someone in the row in front of you shushed him. 

The flush that formed on his cheeks was a complete surprise, as was the way his doe eyes rounded comically. You couldn’t stop the soft huff of laughter that left your lips, further startling him. You glanced at the row in front of you, before leaning in just the slightest bit and quietly saying, “I’m ____.” 

The whole time, he was staring at you as if you were revealing your deepest secret, lips quirked up in the cutest way. “Are you new?” He murmured, leaning in as well. 

You snorted, and quickly clapped a hand over your mouth, much to Yukhei’s amusement. “Why would I transfer with two weeks left?” You replied, and you couldn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes at your clever reply. He shrugged, and hummed a weird noise that sounded a lot like i don’t know. 

Your professor said something then, finally drawing your attention back to the lecture at hand. You shifted your attention back to the presentation, furiously jotting down the notes you’d missed, and after a while, Yukhei’s presence slipped to the back of your mind. 

It wasn’t until the end of class, when you’d began shoving your notebooks back into your bag that he’d caught your attention again. “Well it was nice meeting you, new girl,” he teased, sliding out of the bench after you. You laughed, quickly bidding goodbye, and though your stomach felt tingly from his presence, the whole encounter completely slipped from your mind by the time evening rolled around. 

-

The next time you see Yukhei is across the crowded cafeteria. You’re sitting with your friends between classes, contentedly chewing away at your lunch, when a loud ruckus catches half of the cafeteria’s attention, including yours. 

It was a group of young men fooling around near the Starbucks stand, obnoxiously joking around with each other as they awaited their drinks. You recognized most of them the way you usually did: from parties and other miscellaneous events. It was the usual crowd of handsome guys, and for a moment you wondered if Yukhei was acquainted with these fellows. 

Your question was quickly answered when you spotted light brown fringe peeking out of the white cap of a giant. He was clad in more comfortable clothes this time, a plain white tee with the front tucked into some Adidas pants. The stripes that ran down the sides of his legs made him seem almost unexplainably long, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from tracing down his figure. 

You were so engrossed in the act that you failed to notice how much closer him and his pack had wandered towards you. They were even louder now, with Yukhei’s laughter ringing above it all. He was attractive even then, you couldn’t help but think. 

It was probably that last thought that caused your slow reaction when he caught your eye. His eyes twinkled beneath the brim of his cap, and his raised one big hand up to wave at you, which you easily reciprocated. His lips quirked up into that cute smile again, so infectious you had to return it. 

His friend said something you couldn’t catch then, and the smile that consumed his face would’ve been quite the sight if he hadn’t shyly ducked his head down, the hand waving at you going to rub at the nape of his neck. 

Cute, you thought. 

-

The third time you see Yukhei is in class again. 

You’re on time this week, and manage to snag your usual seat at the front with your buddies, when he walks through the door. Your eyes instantly latch onto his figure, and, as if sensing it, he catches you. He graces you with one of those half smirk, half smiles again, and much to your surprise he saunters straight over towards you and your friends. 

“Hey,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the table top in front of you. 

“Hi,” you say, and his eyes flicker from you to your friends for a moment, before leaning onto the edge of the desk, pink tongue darting across his lips. He catches your gaze.

“My guys and I are having a party this weekend,” he mentions, and you lean forward, eyes tracing over his soft facial features. “You should come,” he says, and for a moment, he seems almost shy. Then as if remembering you’re not alone, he glances up towards your friends. “All of you, I mean.”

You roll your lips in, trying to repress the smile that so desperately wants to take over, and answer with a sure nod. 

Yukhei’s smile gets impossibly wider, and he knocks his knuckles against the table one more time, before slowly stalking backwards. “Cool, great, awesome,” he says, and you nearly snort when he adds, “snazzy.” 

-

The next time you see Yukhei is kind of planned, but not really. You have to admit, Yukhei’s house throws some of the best parties on campus, and the fact that his brothers are all respectable guys who actually take school seriously is just another plus. Like usual, the lot is packed when you and your friends arrive a little past ten thirty. There’s people spilling out onto the front porch, and some dilly-dalliers even strewn across the lawn. You maneuver your way into the house and are immediately bombarded by colorful lights and the strong stench of weed. Though you don’t mind it, the extremity of the scent is enough to give you a second-hand high that you didn’t really plan for. You’ve been cross-faded before, and truthfully, it’s a little too much for you. 

You settle on watching an intense match of beer bong in the main living room, leaning against the fire place and conversing with other girls also immersed in the game. The cheers for the game are loud and rambunctious, typical of a college party, and you soon find yourself absorbed in your role as a partygoer. There’s drinks being handed out, and you don’t hesitate to down multiple red cups right away. The pleasant feel of alcohol swimming through your veins like a soft persuasion to let loose. 

And you do. 

You’re next up for beer pong, excited in a way only parties make you feel, when a hand clasps around your wrist. You whirl around, and nearly crash into Yukhei, who’s all giggly and ditzy from partying. “Hey,” he yells over the music, and you can’t help the giggle that spills through your lips at his customary greeting. 

“Hi,” you shout back, lips brushing dangerously close to his neck, which smells of so much alcohol and sweat, you’d be disgusted if you didn’t smell the same. Someone yells at you to return for the game, but Yukhei waves them off, whisking you towards the staircase, where he pushes another drink into your hand. 

“I’m so glad you could come,” he shouts, and you see his lips move but you honestly don’t catch a single word that leaves his lips. You wanna blame the pounding bass for your sudden inability to hear him, but a voice in your head says you’d been to distracted just watching his cherried lips to pay attention.

You motion for him to repeat.

You’re not expecting for him to lean in close, lips pressed to the shell of your ear, “so glad you could make it, new girl,” he says, and you’re vaguely aware of the large hand pressed to the base of your spine. Your senses are slowly being pushed into maximum overdrive, so all you manage is a dumb nod. 

He leans away from you, but the feeling of Yukhei’s body leaning over you is already engraved into your mind, and you find yourself reaching a hand out to grasp at the front of his sleeveless shirt, pulling him closer. 

“You look hot,” you say, and he laughs hard against you, chest bumping yours. 

“Thanks,” he says, glances back towards the living room that seems to have become even more populated since you were there. “You look hot, too,” he returns, and you smirk. You unclasp your grip on his shirt, only to glide your palm over his neck, gently pressing your palm into the muscles there. 

Yukhei’s entire demeanor flickers then, and you catch him slipping, trying to remain as a composed gentlemen. He teeters dangerously on the edge between that and a rugged man whose only desire is to eat you up. His lip is caught between his teeth, and it takes him a hard gulp, but he eventually regains his composure, and flashes you a sweet smile. 

But the tiny flash you’d seen of his other persona is enough to catch your interest, and you can feel the heat forming in your core. The way his Adams apple had bobbed before you as he struggled to remain respectful replays in your head, over and over again. You give him a smile in return, and he seems sort of calm in your presence now. You almost feel bad for wanting to purposely rile him up. 

You lean forward, soothingly pressing your fingers into his neck. “Thanks for inviting me,” you murmur, and you’d be worried he didn’t hear you, but the way his eyes are laser focused on you assures you he did. Nonetheless, you take a challenging step closer, ghosting your lips over his ear in the same teasing way he’d done to you earlier. “Isn’t it hot in here?”

You feel him swallow beneath your fingertips, and that definitely sends another spark down south, feeling his muscles twitch. The little action is probably what seals the deal for you as you hear him stutter out a shaky agreement. You sigh a soft, “Yukhei.”

“Yes?” He breathes, and from the corner of your eye, you catch the way his hand hovers over your waist, fist clenching only to relax afterwards, his internal struggle still going on. 

“Where’s your room?” You ask, and press your chest to his. Your forwardness seems to be the deciding factor for him as well, and you feel his hand clasp onto your hip, fingers digging into your skin. 

“My roommate’s in there right now,” he huffs out, and you sigh in a teasing way, slowly peeling yourself away from him. His eyes are wide as you pull away, only fueling you further. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you la–” 

“We can go somewhere else,” he abruptly blurts out, eyes wide. You beam at him, your hand slowly drifting away from his neck and down his exposed biceps, lightly squeezing the muscle. 

“Show me.”

Yukhei wastes no time in tugging you up the stairs you’d been leaning against and down the subsequent upstairs hallway. There’s people littered all over the place, some couples languidly making out against the walls, while others spark up by the bathroom. He guides you towards the end of the hallway, where a tacky sign reading Jae’s Room adorns the wooden door. He glances behind you almost mischievously, like a little devil, and you wonder if he’ll look at you the same way. He tugs the door open, and ushers you inside, before shutting the door behind himself. 

The room is dark, and Yukhei wastes no time flicking on a lamp in the corner of the room, drowning the room in a soft golden hue. Yukhei looks even more handsome in the light, tan skin smooth like velvet. When his eyes meet yours, you feel inexplicably trapped by his gaze, and for the first time that night, your cheeks flush, forcing you to look away. 

Yukhei sees anyway, and saunters over, cheeky smile adorning his features. He wastes no time in catching your jaw between his fingers, slowly turning your face towards him. Your breath catches from his proximity, and you can’t help the small quiver that passes over you, brought on by the honeyed look in his eyes. He gently presses your lips together, too soft for some random college hook-up, that your knees almost buckle beneath you. 

His hands depart your face, and glide down your arms and across your waist, until the settle on the curve of your spine, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your skin. The music is more muted in the room, and you hear the quiet smack of your lips against his, and the soft noises you both make. 

Yukhei steps forward, and the backs of your knees meet the edge of the bed. He slowly eases you down, until you’re sitting and he’s leaning over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Your hands are tracing across his broad shoulders, moving towards the nape of his neck, and tugging at his hair. He releases a quiet moan at the action, and you quietly lock that way for safe keeping. 

If you’re being honest, Yukhei is doing all the right things. His hands press over your waist and your spread thighs, long fingers sending shivers throughout your body. His tongue is working wonders on you, pressing into all your sensitive areas, making you squirm. He’s so attractive, both in his physical appearance and his personality, that the wetness that forms between your legs is embarrassing. 

You can’t even begin to describe the disappointment that blossoms in your chest when someone rattles the doorknob and Yukhei startles, successfully ending your heavy make-out. 

You begin to wave them off, hand tracing over Yukhei’s jaw to guide him back to you, when Yukhei becomes jittery, quickly tugging you to your feet.

Surprisingly, whoever is outside the door hasn’t let up their efforts, and you begin to wonder who it is, when Yukhei suddenly pulls the closet door open, peeking inside it with wide eyes. 

You tilt your head at him in confusion, and are immediately graced with his goofy smile, though now it’s a little more anxious than before. “Um,” he says, eyes flickering between you and the door. “Get in?”

You blink. 

“What?”

Yukhei swallows, and you nearly lose focus of the situation at hand.

“Technically, we’re not supposed to be in each other’s rooms during frat parties,” he explains, nervously jiggling the closet’s doorknob back and forth.

“And I think Jaehyun’s trying to get in.”

You glance at the bedroom door, which has gone suspiciously quiet. Suddenly, the soft clink of a key being inserted rings throughout the room, startling even you into jumping into the dark of the closet. Yukhei nudges the clothing aside, allowing you enough space to sit on the floor, before promptly following. The closet door clicks shut right as the bedroom door jangles open. 

Sure enough, you assume it’s this Jaehyun fellow who’s entered. Surprisingly, he’s by himself, though he’s talking loudly. You logically deduce he’s on the phone, if the pauses between his outbursts are any indication. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, because if you had to sit through another couple fucking while you listened like some voyeur, you’d feel repulsed with yourself. Still, you’re trapped in the closet with Yukhei, who was only a few minutes away from having sex with you. Your cheeks flame. The closet light is off, though, and you’re also facing away from Yukhei, so your embarrassment won’t show.

You’re nestled between his long legs on the floor, and you can feel his hot breath fanning down your neck. One of his hands is pressed against the wall, while the other loosely grasps your shoulder, as if to keep you from shuffling around too much. You’re lucky the closet floor is carpeted, otherwise your behind would’ve started hurting the moment you’d sat down. At most, the carpeted floor grants you another five minutes of comfiness. 

However, Yukhei’s imminent threat of being caught in his frat brother’s room is temporarily gone, and you feel him relax behind you. As if the situation hits him, he releases a soft puff of laughter, and you pinch his thigh to keep him from laughing any louder. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, and then, “for making you do this.”

The situation screams Yukhei, and you can’t really complain, because you’d signed up specifically for Yukhei, so you just give your own quiet huff of acknowledgment. Though you had been so ready to get down and frisky with Yukhei just moments ago, your current plight is also quite endearing in a way you feel only Yukhei could make it be. 

However comfortable you are with him, your ass isn’t with the floor, and you soon start to feel the bruising ache set into your behind. 

You shift a little, hoping to find another position that will let you sit for a few more minutes. Jaehyun is still on the phone outside, talking animatedly with whoever, and you hope the conversation is nearing an end. 

You eventually find a somewhat comfortable position when you move back a little, and are able to stretch your knees out a little. You sigh contentedly, your back bumping into Yukhei’s chest. You’re closer now, and he knows it too, if the way he sets his chin on your shoulder is any indication. 

This position is kinda cute, you think, if you were in another setting. Maybe a picnic in the park, or on the couch during a movie. It’s a little shocking that you’re thinking of such situations with someone you’ve met only a handful of times, but Yukhei’s sweet, and somewhere in your chest, you hope this end-of-the-school-year fuck won’t just be a one time thing. 

Your thoughts are cut short when you shift back, and feel something poke against your ass. Yukhei sucks in a sudden breath, and you’re instantly aware of what just happened. Between your Yukhei induced daydreams and your constant shifting around, Yukhei was still in the mood, and the close proximity only heightened his arousal, which so kindly poked you in the behind as friendly reminder. 

Jaehyn’s voice is still ringing clearly through the door, and by the sounds of it, he’s nowhere near ending his phone call. 

Poor Yukhei must be suffering behind you, so aroused yet so trapped. The idea of him being so turned on, even in such a situation sort of sparks something in you as well, though. It doesn’t take long for the warmth between your legs to start up again, and your mind soon becomes hazy in the sort of cloud only sex puts you in. 

You shift back again, and you hear Yukhei exhale against your ear, the hand that had been resting on your shoulder pressing down, as if to warn you. You gently place a hand on one of the legs that encages you, running your fingers up and down to test the waters, and quietly coax him into some fun. 

When Yukhei doesn’t push you away, the idea nestles itself into your mind and stays there permanently. You carefully nudge Yukhei’s legs open a bit further, and he easily complies, allowing you to situate yourself even closer to his throbbing manhood. His hand falls away from your shoulder, only to press into your hip, as you slowly press back into him, his soft gasps only encouraging you further.

“___,” he murmurs, the way his voice wobbles music to your ears. You reach for his hands, hastily winding them around your body, until your pressing his palms against your breasts, urging him to return the sensations. Yukhei easily complies, with another soft whine of your name.

Though you’d definitely pegged Yukhei as a dominant man, one who was one hundred percent in control, the way he moulds under your touch is equally as satisfying. He does what you want him to, and accepts everything you give him. It’s different from what you’ve usually experienced, but you aren’t complaining. 

Just as you wrap up those thoughts, you feel the wet sensation of lips pressing against the juncture of your neck, and the gentle nips of teeth against your skin. You fight to hold back a gasp, barely managing to clasp a palm over your mouth. The sound quickly dissolves behind your palm, and you slowly begin to relax, raising a hand up to card your fingers through Yukhei’s hair.

You’re thrown for a loop again when one of Yukhei’s hands, which had been so diligently palming over your breast, snakes its way down your stomach, until his fingers are tracing over the seam of your jeans, right over your throbbing lips. The soft glide of his fingertips makes you jump, losing control over your own body. “Yukhei,” you breathe, quickly reaching down to grab at his palm, when he counters you, snatching your wrist away.

His chuckles are soft against your neck, and you can feel the smirk pressed against your damp skin. “So cute,” he murmurs, fingertips not once letting up their teasing onslaught. You bite down on your lip to keep from crying out, but your hips shift back and forth, thighs clamping down on his hand involuntarily. “Shh,” he hums, releasing your wrist only to press his fingers against your mouth. “Jaehyun hyung will hear you,” he warns you, and you nod, though your legs still quiver and your lower lip still trembles. 

The uncomfortable dampness between your legs is unbearable, but the fingers pressing against your clothed pussy are even worse. Yukhei traces a long finger up and down the area where he knows your lips meet, leaving your brain a muddled mess. “Please,” you murmur, your head slowly rolling back until it’s rested against his shoulder, and Yukhei, the absolute devil, laughs.

“I dunno,” he whispers, pressing his lips up your neck, until he’s kissing at your jaw. His hand, the one not currently occupied, snakes itself up your shirt, until he’s tracing his fingers along the cups of your bra. “Is it worth me getting in trouble?”

You gasp when his fingers finally find their way into your bra, and he rolls a pebbled nipple between his fingers. “Y-yukhei,” you pant, and your muscles twitch from all the stimulation he’s giving you. Your legs go to close again, but this time he grasps onto your thigh, and holds them open again. “Pretty please,” you beg, voice as wobbly as his was earlier, when he’d been under your control. 

It had been so much easier then, when you only needed to guide Yukhei around, and you knew exactly what was coming next. This other side of Yukhei, teasing you and playing with your pleasure, was dangerously delicious, and the wetness of your panties would vouch for that. 

“Mmm” he hums against your neck, releasing your nipple, only to grasp onto your jaw. His fingers encourage you to look over at him, and even though your drenched in complete darkness, Yukhei’s eyes looked impossibly darker. “Pretty please,” he repeats, lips ghosting over yours, and his grip stops you from leaning forward to kiss him. “I like that,” he murmured, right before he leaned down to kiss you again, his mouth hot, making the closet feel more and more like a sauna with every passing second. 

His tongue is rough against yours, quickly repressing any ideas to take over you might’ve had with a quick flick. If Yukhei’s previous actions turned you on, the amount of excitement he sparks in you now is ten times more intense. His long fingers continue to stroke over your core, stopping every now and then to palm over it. 

You can’t help the soft moan that leaves your lips. Yukhei bites down hard on your bottom lip, as if giving you both a warning and a punishment for being loud when one of his brothers is right outside. You’re stuttering breaths eventually draw him away, and you find yourself chasing after him, the hand knotted in his hair tugging him closer. 

Yukhei smirks, nudging your nose with his, until you’re dazedly staring up at him. “Beg,” he whispers, right as you feel the button on your jeans pop open. 

“Huh,” you murmur, attention zeroed in on his lips. 

“Beg,” he repeats, fingers crawling into your underwear, causing your breath to hitch again. “Because I still don’t know if I wanna get in trouble,” he adds, eyes momentarily flicking towards the door. 

“Please,” you murmur, pulling at his hair again, remembering the soft noise he’d made before the two of you had abruptly jumped into the closet earlier. He reacts the same way he had earlier, temporarily losing his focus, before he’s back on you, pressing kiss after kiss onto your skin, though his hand refuses to crawl any deeper into your underwear. 

“C’mon, princess,” he teases, biting down on your neck. You flinch, and he uses your vulnerable state to press a finger against your clit. You have to bite down the whine that catches in your throat, nearly curling in on yourself. “Say it again,” he whispers, “that cute little thing you said.”

Your mind is on a completely different plane, and you struggle to piece together what he wants. What had you said again? The alcohol that still thrums in your system isn’t much of a help either, and you nearly forgot that he wanted you to say something until he nips at your neck again, and your eyes roll back into your head. 

“Please,” you exhale, pressing a hand over his, the one that’s over your breast. He quickly grabs onto it, tangling your fingers together, and you continue your quest to figure him out. “Please, Yukhei,” you whimper. 

You can feel his lips break away from your skin, and you feel them as they start to move again, when you suddenly add, “pretty please,” fingers tightening in his hold. 

“There you go,” he breathes, before his fingers finally begin to toy with you, flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath your folds. You’re leaning against him even more now, head rolled onto his shoulder due to your inability to hold it up. “So cute,” he murmurs as he presses a soft kiss to the vein in your neck. 

His fingers are still hard at work, using the wetness you’d accumulated to spread all over you. “You’re so wet,” he chuckles, and you shiver at the sound, your body so sensitive to everything this boy does. “Don’t let Jaehyun hear you,” he murmurs, and you feel yourself nod. “Or else I’ll be mad,” he adds, and though he’s just teasing, the prospect of seeing him mad sends another jolt of adrenaline through your body. 

However, you’re still holding onto the hope that this isn’t a one time thing, and quietly file away the information for another time. 

“Yukhei,” you mewl, quiet and soft against his hair, your body giving another twitch when he presses a finger against your opening. “Make me come,” you sigh, calming yourself enough to spread your legs wider for him. “Pretty pretty please,” you tack on, fingers twitching from where they’re nestled inside his silky hair. 

“Of course, baby,” he responds, deep voice husky from all the whispering you’ve been doing. You feel a finger slowly submerging itself inside of you, pressing into you with a quiet squelching sound. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, and you nearly mewl. 

His finger presses in and out a few more times, and just when you’re gonna beg for another one, he beats you to it. His long fingers work fast, scissoring inside of you. And you find yourself writhing at his touch. 

“Please,” you whine, tugging at his hair. “Kiss me, Yukhei,” you say when he finally looks at you. He complies with your request, pressing his soft mouth against yours again, tongue prodding around like usual. 

It’s all too much by now, the tedious teasing he’d done for what felt like forever, the hot press of his mouth, and the delicious way he’d worked his fingers inside of you. You’re not sure if you’re turned on from just how talented this guy is with his fingers, or the fact you could get caught any second now. You guess both, and your attention temporarily flickers over towards the door, where you hear the soft lull of Jaehyun’s voice. 

As if sensing your attention drifting away, Yukhei curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. You gasp into his mouth, pressing yourself even closer to him. You pull your mouth away, and you open it and close it multiple times, like some floundering fish, legs shaking even more than they were a moment prior. 

Yukhei seems to get your message, and curls his fingers again. “It’s okay, ____,” he murmurs, and you feel that ridiculous smile pressed against your cheek again. You’d hit him if he wasn’t about to deliver the most exciting orgasm you’ve had in a while. “I got you, baby,” he breathes, fingers going into maximum overdrive inside of you, pulling in and out, curling at the perfect spot with each dive in. 

When you finally orgasm, your whole body shakes, legs clamping shut to keep his hand from moving. You find yourself pressing your intertwined hands to your mouth, as if trying to cover up the already silent scream that wants to leave you. Gradually, your body begins to relax, despite the heavy way your chest rises and falls. 

Your floating on cloud nine when you vaguely register the sound of a door shutting, and suddenly, all you hear is Yukhei’s breath against your ear. You slowly peel yourself away from Yukhei, suddenly aware of your soaked panties, and soiled jeans. 

Yukhei’s hand reaches up for the knob, still not saying a word, and you carefully peek out the small crack he opens. When you conclude there’s no one in the room anymore, you push the door open all the way, stumbling out of the closet like some drunkard. Which, you technically are. 

“Well,” you say, stretching your legs out as your eyes scan across the room once again. “That was fun.” 

“____,” you hear Yukhei sigh, and when you turn around, you catch sight of his disheveled appearance, still submerged in the partial darkness of the closet. His eyes are dangerously hooded, eyes dark like chocolate as they stare you down. He looks absolutely delectable in that situation, and the tent in the front of his pants sends another chill down your spine. “Don’t be rude,” he teases, sinful tongue peeking out to lick across his smirk. 

And well, you can’t be rude, really. 

-

The next time you see Yukhei, he’s tucked beneath the blanket beside you, one arm lounging across the dip in your spine, as you cuddle closer to him. 

- [ original post 2018 ] : is this proofread?? hell nah!!!! should i start taking requests now or something??? idk sis u tell me!!!!!

[ july 2020 update ] ; i added a tag on mobile that fucked up the post layout lol but now its fixed !