#he's such a Romantic. but all he does is sublimate. go ahead and grab your boyfriend's face it's fine i'll stop making fun of you

[beliscary]

pov you're terence finalfantasy

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #448

Top Ten Moments in The Secret of Monkey Island

This week was one of those weeks where I had a list all ready to go, and then I discovered something that made me throw the whole lot in the bin and write something new in a hurry. And the thing that I discovered is that it is, approximately, the 30th birthday of my favourite videogame of all time, The Secret of Monkey Island.

When I was a kid, I’d go round my cousins’ house and play on their Spectrum or their C64. I played the usual 8-bit hits of the era; Dizzy, Ghostbusters, Skool Daze, that really weird and probably insanely offensive Spitting Image beat-em-up… then I got my Amiga around Christmas 1990, and I figured games would be more-or-less the same but with more colours. I was wrong.

I got two games in short succession that utterly changed my appreciation for the medium: Lemmings and Monkey Island. The first was funny, inventive, colourful and characterful; a fiendishly difficult puzzler that nevertheless made you want to come back for more, because you just fell in love with the Lemmings themselves. It was like nothing I’d seen before, and felt impossible. Monkey Island, on the other hand, was not only better, not only more my cup of tea gameplay wise, but just blew the doors of my perception of what games were and what they could do. It was like an interactive movie before that was even a term; a living cartoon where you were the main character. A funny, wordy, witty adventure story, full of gags and references that I didn’t quite get but that I knew were smart and humorous (and there was lots of daft humour in there that I did get, too). It wasn’t just a case of being able to talk to people – I’d done that in stuff like Skool Daze – but the ability to solve problems, to divine solutions; to work out that you can drug dogs by smearing meat with dubious petals. And even when do did something like that, the game was irreverent enough to put a disclaimer on screen assuring you that the dogs were only sleeping. It broke the fourth wall, and I was only just old enough to understand what that meant in narrative terms; this was a game about gaming, about stories and adventures. It was filled with movie references (George Lucas even makes a cameo!). It inspired me to write into Amiga Power for help with a particular puzzle, and they printed my letter, but by the time it came out about three months had passed and I’d solved the puzzle on my own.

Monkey Island was the first game that I loved as much as the cartoons I watched or the comics I read; Guybrush and Elaine and LeChuck and the rest were the first gaming characters that I took to my heart in the same way as Bumblebee, Garfield, or Peter Venkman. I’ve said it before, but I’m not sure I’d love games the same way if I’d never played Monkey Island. It certainly changed the types of games I wanted to play; even though I’ve enjoyed my fair share of platformers, racing games, and shooters, it’s always the slower-paced narrative games that I come back to, the Fables and Mass Effects and Deus Exes of this world (even faster-paced games like Halo, Gears and Half-Life still grab me with their stories, as daft as they may sometimes be). Basically, Monkey Island made me a sucker for a dialogue tree.

Monkey Island was my gateway to a whole host of other LucasArts adventure games; Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis, Sam & Max Hit the Road, Day of the Tentacle, Grim Fandango… Ron Gilbert and Tim Schafer were among the first names of games creators that I ever knew (probably the very first, in all honesty, was Peter Molyneux – I am British after all). It was a window into a much larger world, one filled with choice, consequence, non-sequiturs, and rubber chickens with pullies in the middle.

Anyway, to celebrate Monkey Island, here are my Top Ten moments from the game. See you next year for the Monkey Island 2 list.

How to Get Ahead in Navigating: I’ve gone about it before, but this simple, daft joke – swapping a guide book for an actual navigator’s head – blew my mind as a kid. It forced me to think differently about puzzles and comedy and how to approach the game. For little old me, it was a revelation, and just desperately funny.

How Appropriate, You Fight Like a Cow: a discussion of Monkey can’t be had without talking about the innovative swordfights; a wholly successful attempt to replicate the verbal parrying of a classic Hollywood swordfight, the insult-riposte dynamic also reinforced the puzzle mechanics of the game. Sublime.

Order Hint Book: Monkey Island was the first adventure game I played, so I didn’t realise at the time how innovative its gameplay was, because you could never get hopelessly, game-ruiningly stuck, and nor could you die. Except at one point, when you drown, but even that is a hilarious gag that is easily avoidable. The control verbs changing from things like “Pick Up” to “Decompose” is just tremendous.

Use Staple Remover on Tremendous, Dangerous-Looking Yak: Monkey plays fast and loose with game conventions, sending itself up in the process; the moment when Guybrush enters a room and is hidden from view, undergoing a series of preposterous and expensive-sounding adventures, which you only know about because you can read his actions in the sentence line as if you were still controlling him (“use… gopher repellent… on another gopher…”), is a phenomenal piece of comedy stagecraft, a game parodying games parodying itself, using its own architecture to tell a joke (as well as being a play on the whole “noises off” style of gag in the first place).

Ask Me About Loom: like I say, I’d never played an adventure game before; I’d never heard of any LucasArts (sorry, Lucasfilm Games) titles, apart from maybe Maniac Mansion. So the bloke in the SCUMM Bar with his “Ask me about LOOM” badge, who launches into an intense sales spiel when you speak to him, didn’t make sense at first. But when it clicked, the very idea of a pirate in this game directly referencing another game was fourth-wall-breaking hilarious genius; happening right near the start of the game lets you know what you’re in for.

The Rock: when you get to Monkey Island, there’s a puzzle where you need to use a makeshift seesaw to catapult a boulder onto a tree (or something). If you line it up wrong, you can sink your own ship (and presumably drown your mutinous crew). The first time I played the game, this is what I did; there’s another great gag where castaway Herman Toothrot turns out to have a ship of his own. But the second time I played through, I didn’t sink my ship, and sailed back with my original crew. This blew my mind; whilst obviously not at Warren Spector levels of emergent game design, the fact that you could actually change what happened, to have a different experience to another player, was phenomenal, and another one of those watershed gaming moments for me.

Men of Low Moral Fibre (Pirates): the trio of loitering pirates are funny in and of themselves, with their breath mints and Pieces o’ Eight and minutes from a PTA meeting. But what I always found really funny was that they are literally called “Men of Low Moral Fibre (Pirates)”; that’s what it says in the sentence line when you hover your cursor over them (an aside: Monkey Island and Lemmings probably taught me how to use a mouse). Again it was the game using the structure of a game to tell a joke.

Rescuing Otis: this is what promoted me to write into Amiga Power back in the day: how the heck do you rescue Otis from the jail?! There are delightful red herrings regarding files and whatnot, but the eventual solution – juggling acidic grog from mug to mug as you make your way through the town to eventually pour it on his lock – was a rare moment of fast-paced tension in a relatively slow game. Solving it on my own made me feel so clever at a tender age. And it’s funny! So great!

A Rubber Chicken with a Pulley in the Middle: ah, my beloved rubber chicken. Found early on in the game and used in a couple of puzzles, I don’t think I quite grasped the silly brilliance of it; as a kid you’re just more accepting of the surreal. Why does a rubber chicken have a pulley? It’s basically just so you can zip-line across a chasm; it’s a wholly functional, boring plot device. But it’s also a rubber chicken. It’s sublime comic genius. And then you cook it! Madness!

The Voodoo Root: I’ve not even mentioned The Ghost Pirate LeChuck yet (if I’m honest his best “moments” are in the sequel) but the finale of the game, when you’ve distilled your Voodoo Root and you’re dispatching ghosts left right and centre, brilliantly marries an epic adventure action sequence with the point-and-click structure of the game itself. But then you fight LeChuck and he boots you around the island, until finally you crash land on a soft drinks dispenser, and finally defeat him with… a can of root beer. Cue fireworks and a strangely romantic ending. Is it as good as the ending of Monkey 2? No, but nothing is. Literally nothing, in the history of the universe.

Wow, there we are. I never had room for the dance steps, the recipe, finding the treasure, defeating the Sword Master, or Stan. Stan! I didn’t have room for Stan! See, that’s how good the game is; I barely mentioned one of the greatest gaming villains of all time, and I didn’t even get round to one of the medium’s funniest supporting characters. Blimey.

Man, I love The Secret of Monkey Island. Ron and the rest of you guys: you done good. Thanks for the memories.

[monoguk]

laggard . second

Why can’t I get enough of you, baby girl?

FEATURING - jeon jungkook CATEGORY - mature . drama WORD COUNT - 6000+

PARTS - first . second . last

Behind closed lids, you envisioned a peaceful lieu where red roses and blue forget-me-nots flourished prosperously along an endless field of pretty dreams.

Then the scene shifts to a memory, an oh so beautiful memory, of contented sighs and passionate moans, of soft caresses and laggardly rough thrusts, of indecipherable words whispered onto naked skins and silent messages sent through hungry intertwined lips.

White follows right after, and it was then that you realize the lazy ray of morning light was softly nudging you awake as though saying, it’s time to come back to reality, dear.

Your groggy mind reminisces swiftly of the last thoughts that invaded your mind - a memory or a dream? - not noticing the gentle weight restricting your actions.

When you fully awake from slumber, you finally notice the flesh touching your own naked skin and when you turned to determine who was holding you down, you wondered if you were actually really awake.

Because he was ethereal, in between the thin line distinguishing reality from beauty. Because, with his eyelids closed and his mouth slightly parted to emit deep exhales, he was an angel - the same human angel you constantly fell for. Like a dream that was just too real to be true.

Upon further realization - rationality working when sleep has left your system - , you knew what your mind had projected in the subconscious world was an actual event: an event that occurred just a few hours prior, when the young night aged into the late hours of evening and eventually into the gradual entrance of dawn; when innocence turned adulterated with a single swooping kiss.

He, just like always, called you over with two simple, meaningless, words and you normally complied to his orders. Outside his door, you paused in your hurry to reach him faster to calm your heart - you did not know whether it was aching and breaking in pieces or was thrumming dangerously behind your rib cage - and it surprised you to find him crouched down by a sofa that met the entry door of his residential unit unlike usually meeting him in his dimly lit studio. No words were exchanged - not that there should be any - when he swiftly rushes towards you and had you locked between the wall and his hungry physique. His mouth ravished yours as his hands desperately roamed your clothed state. The night turned into a lot more surprises when he carried you into his room - the room you always woke up to after a sexual rendezvous in his studio - and you never got to question why he chose to fuck you in that particular room for the first time when his ministrations distracted you away from sanity.

It didn’t help that the soft morning light glowed perfectly on Jungkook’s whole self and that it showed you a softer image of this man. Your heart calmly beat faster, your feelings brewed strongly inside of you, oxytocin infiltrating your whole system. For you fell completely for him, this innocence the missing puzzle in your confused emotions. However, you were uncertain - rejoice or despair?

As though the world was trying to worsen your state, the heat of the light intensified thus waking this ethereal boy. You tried to pry your eyes away, tried to pretend you were still asleep, but you wanted to capture the moment he opens his eyes and how much more beautiful he could get for you were certain this would be the last time you would encounter an opportunity like this. After all, Jeon Jungkook would never let any other of his fuck buddies stay over, ever.

Your breath hitches on your throat, as you recorded mentally the way his right eye squints open first before the left one. His hold on your waist tightens as he groans and yawns. His eyes shuts close when his body moves to stretch awake his sleeping muscles. In that moment, raw and child-like, he was still sublimely aesthetic.

Your breathing grows ragged, dreading the moment that this short beauty would come to an end when realizations are thought by the beautiful being. You wished the way his eyelids flutter open goes slow motion, but then he goes ahead and stares straight at your widened orbs and your world comes to a cliche pause.

You imagined that he would furrow his brows, regretting to have tired you too much last night that prompted you two to immediately lay down to sleep in his bed sheets. You imagined that he would have retracted his soft embrace on you, expected that his pretty lips would spit out vile and piercing words that went something along you’re awake. you can go now’.

But it doesn’t happen, and you hoped he would have done what you were expecting instead of -

“Good morning,” he smiles - so rare, so different, as though it was meant only for you - “Mind making us coffee?”

You should be ecstatic, that he was not pushing you away, that he was opening up to you, but his widening smile pulverized your broken heart even more. What would happen after this lazy morning bubble pops?

Nonetheless, you act accordingly and nodded, whispering that you didn’t mind. You made a move to scoot away from him, pretending to not notice the faint way his fingers drummed onto your naked hips, until you were sat up and had your body fully exposed at him.

Jungkook lays back down, properly tucking his hands behind his head, and bluntly checked you out in all your pretty naked glory. When your legs made a rustling sound as you moved to stand up, before his gaze melts you completely, he reaches his hand down on the ground, fingers blindly searching for any garment. Fortunately, he grabs hold of his white button-up shirt - the same shirt you always had on you when you wake up. “Wear this, I’ll be in the kitchen after washing up.”

Uncomfortably, you button-up the shirt, fingers shaking because why was he still staring at you? When you’ve finished, you went to search for your underwear as Jungkook began to stand up from the bed and trudge towards the bathroom inside his room. Before you went, you sneaked a peek inside, ingraining in your mind the image of him, butt-naked, and cutely ruffling his messy bed hair. Still, you found him as attractive as ever. Still, you thought these feelings weren’t healthy for you.

Speaking of healthy, Jungkook was anything but. Because all his cupboards harbored were canned goods, kimchi in jars, packed junk foods, beer bottles, a pack of loaves of bread and packets of instant coffee. Sure, they were plenty, but they were artificially made for fast eating. His refrigerator didn’t even contain homemade side dishes.

Still, you moved without a complain, putting two loaves into the bread toaster and turning on the water boiler. You took a mug and a packet of instant coffee mix before emptying the content into the ceramic mug.

You were waiting for the water to boil, the toaster done when you heard it release the loaves from it’s heated embrace, when you heard soft padding of footsteps approach where you are. You knew who they belonged to, yet you continued to stare at the boiling appliance.

To your relief, Jungkook did not make his way to where you were, though deep inside you wished he would have hugged you like what people described in overly romantic sweet flicks during a morning after one stays over.

You would have wanted the silence to prolong, until you finished serving him breakfast and until you would flee away from his abode, but - “You’re not eating?”

Slightly, you turned your head to acknowledge him, but you made sure your eyes wouldn’t meet his. Still, calmly, you replied, “I don’t drink coffee in the morning.”

“Then at least eat bread.” His voice, so deep yet so innocent, had your heart clenching painfully because - why was he so nice to you? “You know, before you go to work.”

Upon the last word, you remembered of your agendas for today. It definitely did not involve eating breakfast with the one person you were painfully falling for - though this scenario had been in your fantasies for a while. Then, you remembered that your workplace was strict and did not like timing-in late employees. When you glanced at the wall clock, turning your head back to search for it but still avoiding meeting Jungkook’s figure, you concluded that you were awfully late. You decided that you would just call-in sick instead, and maybe use the remainder of the day in trying to organize your thoughts and your feelings.

“Shit,” you mumbled, still carefully putting an ample amount of hot water onto the mug. When you’ve delivered it to him, you put on an act and said - “I have to go, Jungkook. I’m running late. Goodb-”

Your words halted, especially when a crunchy toast was shoved up into your mouth, courtesy of the only other person with you. “It’s not like you’ll lose anything with running late because of breakfast. You’ll just gain work hours for today.”

Jungkook did not know of your workplace policy, nor of your plans for today, and it wouldn’t hurt that you would keep it from him. What does he care anyway if you do miss work?

You should have refused, left as coldly as your relationship with him has always been. He continued to stare at you, his eyes guarded just as much as it was carefree. Yet, the void of his irises managed to make you comply, gingerly taking the piece of bread away from your mouth before you took small bites out of it.

You two ate in silence, situated across each other with the marble kitchen counter separating you two. The crunch of the toast and the sips Jungkook took invaded the silence in his unit, yet you still found the sound calming though your heart was drowned and lost in the raging waves of your sea of emotion.

Half-way through your bread, you could feel his gaze return to your figure, and you still feigned that you could tell he was looking. “Not a fan of bread spreads?”

You wondered, momentarily, if 'bread spread’ was even a word, then you answered with a shake of your head. “Not all the time, but I do like strawberry jams.”

It wasn’t like he needed that information, you scolded yourself, but you willed your outer appearance to remain nonchalant, as if what you shared was not a valuable piece of your personality.

You heard him standing up from his stool, and instinctively you watched his preceding actions.

Jungkook rounded the kitchen island, passing by you from your back to reach through his cupboards, searching from one cabinet to another until - “Here, strawberry jam.”

He handed you a serving spoon as well, and politely you accepted.

You wished he would go back to sitting across from you, where the kitchen island prevented your heart from going on a rampage that happened whenever he was near, but the heavens did not heed your call because Jungkook just did the opposite and leaned on the counter just beside you.

He did not speak after that, just stood beside you while you put a large scoop of jam onto your remaining bread. From under your lashes, you noticed that his coffee cup was emptied and the crumbs off the toast dusted along the circumference of the bottom of the mug. If he was done, shouldn’t he be doing the things he needed to do instead of -

“Hey, you got something here.”

You turned your head to face him and the last thing you saw was the close up image if his infamous smirk before sparks filled your vision.

His lips were warm, naturally and probably because the coffee he drank was steaming, against yours. Yet yours was sweet, intensified by the artificial sugar of the strawberry jam, against his and suddenly the different taste on each of your lips was the perfect recipe.

Your chest was hurting, but you didn’t dare push away, not when Jungkook cupped your jaw and pulled you closer - closer until all space between was occupied; just as close as when he fucks you into oblivion in his studio.

It was when you opted to rest your hand, that was not holding onto your sandwich, on top of Jungkook’s chest did you take note that he was shirtless and the thought alone had you whimpering because Jeon Jungkook in his raw form was the most beautiful you’ve ever seen.

Just like always, simple lip-lock was brief, and it would quickly escalate to ravishing lips with a single lick on your lips by Jungkook.

Hungrily, you pressed closer to his mouth, addicted by taste of black coffee that lingered on your lips courtesy of Jungkook. Your hand disregarded the toast on the counter so that you could reach up and tug on his hair.

With a soft hold on his strands, you signaled that you wanted him to tilt his head and to your surprise he complied asking you back for a favor to jump onto his waist. When you did, he moves minutely, just until he had you sitting atop the counter and you hear the sound of glass moving along a surface which you conclude as Jungkook pushing the jar away for more space for you.

Jungkook’s hand went to caress your exposed thighs, going further until it settled on the juncture of your thigh and your leg. And, with a force you figured he obviously harbored because of his muscle-ly physique, he pulled you closer although you knew you two had been close enough since he began to kiss you.

Your heads tilt simultaneously - lips begging to lock rougher, deeper, longer - until Jungkook - of all people - began to feed your mouth with his groans and moans and, you could have swore it was, his whimpers; almost as if he had been a traveler quenching his thirst with everything that was you.

Gingerly, his other hand went to quickly unbutton the shirt covering you as he whispers you are so fucking sexy in my clothes. His compliments inflates you ego thus causing a wake of goosebumps in your flesh.

All your thoughts about running away from Jungkook, and all the feelings you’ve finally organized regarding him, flew out of the window of your mind as he completely intoxicated your sanity with his addicting … everything.

Some times pass by, with you two just kissing and groaning and moaning, until you two eventually pulled apart with a loud pop! - saliva connecting your tongues - and haggard breathing.

Jungkook whispers an almost inaudible 'fuck’ before he growls and dives for your neck. And though he’s bruised it too much last night, he still searches for little spots he hasn’t marked yet while you oblige by tilting your head and giving him more access.

Your breath hitches when cool air hits your skin as Jungkook slowly pushes the piece of cloth you were skimpily wearing until he completely strips it off you. His mouth sucks along your jawline, moving along a ragged and an unpatterned movement, before it descends steadily towards your collarbones - lower, lower, lower.

His fingers play the hem of your underwear - stained from the wetness you emitted from last night and stained once again with the arousal Jungkook was inflicting upon you at the moment - while he breathlessly takes one of your mounds into his mouth, directly aiming for the little pert nub in the center of your pinkish areola that had you writhing when he teases it with his teeth and presses the other with his skillful thumb.

Your moan in the form of a high-pitched whine reaches his ears, provoking another growl to escape his constricted throat, a lump caused the lust that is building up in his system because - “Why can’t I get enough of you, baby girl?”

His other hand, unbeknownst to you, went ahead and slips your underwear from your legs until he has scrunched that piece of clothing and was lost somewhere on the floor. Harshly, as you were still accustomed to, he cups your heating arousal and, to his delight, you were absolutely soaked. “I haven’t even done anything yet. Fuck, so hot.”

You wanted to whisper, in his ears that were directly in front of your parted mouth, that this was all for him. Instead, a choked gasp escapes your lips followed by a broken sigh. “Jung… Kook~”

Amidst his hazed mentality - drowned in the tides of lust with you as his tempting mermaid - he makes haste to pull his boxer down just until his semi-hard member springs freely from it’s thin constraint. You felt the way his rigid and warm flesh slaps your thigh although it was hard to focus on one thing when Jungkook continues to inflict pleasure on different parts of your body - your needy arousal with his fingers languidly massaging both lips, your elongated nipples with his heavenly sucking and skillful pressing, your aching heart with simply just him and the things he is doing to you.

He slides you closer, you naked butt kissing the smooth surface of the marble kitchen counter, until your bare stomachs sandwiches the hardness he harbors.

“I just fucked you hard last night, why?” He grits out, but you couldn’t make out his words because you overpowered his voice with a pleasured shriek when he quickly, yet carefully, scrubs and spreads the wetness along the length of your entrance including your hidden clit.

Immediately, he stops fingering you and replaces the pleasurable act with something more intensified: humping his flushed cock along your exposed folds. You reflexively reacted to his gesture with rubbing up against him just as sloppily as his pace was.

Unknowingly, you arched your body - clit finding direct contact with the hard surface of his sex - and regained your sitting position only to -

“Fuck…” Jungkook moans, louder than you’ve ever heard from him, because “Your fucking sitting on my dick. Fuck, feels so good.”

His voice almost reaches the lowest octave, melodious tones from his every syllable hitting your whole sensitive body just a little too much than expected, the effect he has on you showing off with you sliding along his length as you trapped it between your folds and the flat surface of the counter you were placed on.

Then, Jungkook whines and the mere sound eggs you on to dominate over him. So, you quickened your pace, giving you the pleasure you needed just as much as he did.

“More,” it was faint, but with Jungkook resting his forehead atop yours and his eyes shut close with the overwhelming satisfying feelings you inflicted upon him, you caught on to his words - his begging.

“Louder, Jungkook…” You ordered, licking your lips with the small surge of dominance running along your veins and ending up lubricating your dripping entrance. Still, you moved nimbly, roughly, just the way you both enjoyed so much.

You feel his hand run down across your shoulders until he has a soft grip on your wrist. Carefully, he moves your hand towards where your other hand is before he grips on both wrists as though he was binding you with his mere - though a little bit herculean - strength. Meanwhile his other hand situates itself somewhere near your tail bone, fingers digging on both cheeks of you plump ass. Then, he says, “Please,”

You’ve always known that Jungkook had this natural ability to have everyone bowing down to his feet with his mere gaze - so powerful and loud. But, in this moment, he gazes at you with defeat and desperation, yet he’s even more powerful than ever before. His frantic carob irises lingers on yours, speaking a thousand words; some you understood, some you had no idea of. “I want to fuck you. Please.”

His pleads causes a shiver to run down your spine; his quivering strength sucks out all your remaining power; his tip caresses your folds softly - although both of you were very much properly lubricated - then he slowly enters, but-

“Jungkook, there’s no-” you panic, witnessing another change in him that gets your hopes higher. But, no, you didn’t need more perfect expectations, only for disappointments to hurt more than rejection did.

“Raw. I want it raw. I need to feel you raw.” He was gritting yet he was not. He was dominant, yet he was not. He was desperate, but you wouldn’t believe his facade - all brought up by the illusion of lust and attraction.

Nonetheless, you gave in to his request, raising yourself up to let Jungkook move his hips and the hardness the stood proudly in the center. The hand on the edge of your tailbone glides across your skin until it firmly situates itself on your hips. Meanwhile, your hands were still constrained on your back with Jungkook’s mere grip.

Birds chirp from outside the windows, signalling the entrance of a late morning. Faintly, the sun’s rays reach to where you both were situated at, but it’s warmth could not compare to the hotness you felt from utter arousal.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, head tilting down to bury itself on the crook of your neck, as he teasingly prods your folds with his angry red tip.

He mumbles a few more words, syllables you couldn’t catch on because it was a little bit too inaudible, but you figured Jungkook was just cursing a bit more.

Technically, your presumptions were true. How can he not vocalize his pleasure when the quiet moans that spilled from your tempting lips spurred him on, caused his erection to twitch.

For a moment, everything came to a pause with Jungkook just about to enter your sex and the sounds of your heavy panting disrupting the silence in Jungkook’s living quarters. The place faintly began to smell like sex, but the scent of strong coffee infiltrated your scent the most, or maybe it was just Jungkook who was so close to you and when you gave in to your urges to sniff at him, you almost moaned because - he does smell like bittersweet coffee. Suddenly, you think coffee in the morning isn’t so bad.

Jungkook took this time to compose himself, though not totally calming his carnal desires because he had so much in store for you. When he regained much of his sanity, he began to slowly move.

Laggardly, he enters you; the same pace he’s been doing since that day in his studio. You revel in the feeling of his uneven, hard flesh entering you - so deliciously, so perfectly - causing you to emit a broken, satisfied, sigh.

He hisses, something about you still being so tight around him despite the things he’s done to it the evening before. He fits snugly into you, slipping in easily with the overflow of arousal serving as lubricant.

The stretch his thickness inflicted upon your tight walls was uncomfortable just as it was perfectly pleasurable. Your hips lift up to give him more access in entering you, while he eventually pushes you down along the length of his member until he was completely buried inside of your warm tightness.

Jungkook’s sense goes haywire, with the variety of temperatures hitting different parts of his nakedness - the sunray on his bare back, the slick hotness of your wrist and your back against his palm, the coolness of every other part of his body saved from the harsh punishment of the heated sun, the cold surface of the marble countertop against his tight balls, and - how could he ever forget - the most pleasurable wetness of your vaginal walls tightly and directly hugging his sex.

Without any further warning, he pulls back before slamming into you rather harshly, the slap that went with his thrust mingling perfectly with your strangled moaning and his manly whimpering.

He repeats the process, slowly pulling out till the very tip of his angry, red rod, before quickly thrust in, hard.

In the back of your mind, as he continues to thrust into you - words like 'so much better raw’ escaping his mouth each and every time - you remember of the adventures you two went to on his sheets the previous nights. You pretended to not notice the way he kept you closer than ever before; how he took his time - him, the ever-impatient Jeon Jungkook, song producer extraordinaire - indulging in every action he could - wanted - to do to you. Everything done under your consent although you obviously gave in without a fight. He handled you delicately in his arms as he stretched you more with his deliciously inhumane thrusts, made sure you still felt pleasure despite the oversensitivity occurring after an ever-satisfying climax.

This time, in his neat kitchen, illuminated by the bright rays of morning, he holds you the same - delicate, soft, caring. And, it makes you wonder, how his nimble fingers - calloused from his constant fumbling in his mixer table - could have ever given you too much emotion with faint caresses.

Or maybe this was just you being biased, rationality blinded by the utter attraction you had on Jeon Jungkook.

“Jungkook~ More~” your voice, breathy, whiny, high-pitched. You cringed at how desperate you sounded, compared yourself to the million of girls he had moaning at him the same way, ordering and using him for sexual purposes. But you couldn’t help yourself; not when having him fuck you without a condom feels so much better, so intimate.

No. “Beg for me, baby girl.” Jungkook picks up his pace. But, no, you wouldn’t use him just for sex, although your connection with him practically revolved around these adulterated acts. And, no, you didn’t want to keep your hopes up because this was as far as your relationship with Jungkook could get - just one from his favorite fuck buddies.

“Please,” he would have given more to you anyway without having you beg, but something about your quiet moans - so innocent, but is really not - had him craving to hear more of it, had him comparing all the songs he produced to the grandness of your mere moaning.

He then heaves you up with the hand the returns to your tailbone - because the edge of the counter was digging uncomfortably on your skin. And, with the new angle and position he has made, Jungkook made no haste in thrusting into you, hard.

His bare hips slaps onto the flesh of your ass and inner thighs accompanied by the sound of loud, continuous slapping and short, vibrating 'ahh!’s.

Jungkook constantly cursed, words of a sailor being imprinted on the flesh of your sweaty neck, because damn, you feel so good. I could fuck you all day. fuck condoms, i’ll fuck you raw from now on. Unconsciously, as the knots in his abdomen twists uncomfortably in a pleasurable way and as he feels the skin housing his testes tightens, the hand that bound your arms behind you had its fingers spreading out to fill the spaces between your fingers in random finger-intervals. He grips onto them tightly, looking for support for - So close. I’m so close,.

Then, amidst the dirty way you both moaned as your sexes rubbed, separated, united, he says your name - but you didn’t catch onto the way he moans it out in broken syllables because - just at the same time you let a drawled-out moan escape your lips. Pants mingle with your strangled gasps and whines as you feel your walls clamp around him so perfectly, free from the latex material of the trusty condom.

And with the raw tightness that came with your release, Jungkook’s actions ceases because of the narrow pathway his member had to tackle despite the intensified lubrication from you. Nonetheless, he works you up to oversensitivity and himself up until he - “Fuck!”

Just in time, he pulls away from the wet and warm tightness of your cunt only to release his white hot load on your contracting stomach. Some flows down and drips onto the countertop, but it didn’t bother Jungkook at all because “I need more,” before he release your hands, wraps you around his waist, carries you away, and kiss you hungrily even as he settles you down back in his bed.

The seconds tick by that morning, the projection of the sun’s rays changing it’s orientation as the time shifts too. But, the empty coffee cup and the slightly eaten strawberry jam sandwich continued to lay atop the marble kitchen counter, untouched and unmoving, while you and Jungkook dynamically move about in his room, pheromones all over the place and secret feelings delivered but not seen.

jeon jungkook sent you a message

come here. come here come here come here. come here. come here

You didn’t want to check your inbox; you tried so hard to avoid opening a particular text conversation. But, it was hard to resist, after a week of abstinence, this is what greets you.

It would have been better if those texts were sent continuously in that day - or if you were just back reading to your previous conversations with just him asking you to come to him - you decided to check out his messages, but Jungkook sent you one text a day - same content, random times of delivery.

You figured he was yet to send you another one sometime that day, but before you could build up your expectations, you closed your phone and continued to check yourself on the mirror - perfect eyeliner, striking red lipstick, tight-but-not-too-tight black dress that leaves so much to the imagination, the phone in your peach handbag vibrating.

For a moment, you hoped it was Jungkook finally having enough of you ignoring him and decided to vocally speak with you, but the name that appeared on your screen was of a different man’s; your date for tonight.

You’ve never once considered trying to date somebody else while you had this adulterated affair with a well-known music producer - who had no problem with fucking with a ton of other chicks - but you knew it was time to move on from Jungkook because everything he was doing had you falling more for him. You couldn’t have that; you’ve had enough heartbreak whenever you do hear him shamelessly pleasure and receive pleasure from another fuck-buddy.

“Hey,” you softly greet. This man was nice. Works at a company that gives well-off paychecks. Currently studying for his doctor’s degree because there’s no harm in wanting to gain higher education. A very attractive bachelor. And, a recommendation from a mutual friend - you should try dating him. he’s perfect for you!. But then again, you thought once that whatever you and Jungkook had was already perfect.

The man speaks, voice so calming and so deep. And though his mere speaking makes your heart sway just a little bit, you couldn’t block thoughts of Jungkook away from your mind. Nonetheless, you patiently listened to the man on the phone say, “I’m just turning the corner. I’ll be there in 5.”

You say a silent 'okay’ before you hung up. Taking one last look in the mirror, noticing of the pastel lilacs that painted your neck a week ago have disappeared completely, you breathed in deeply before you went to meet your date.

It was unexpected, but then again he wouldn’t be Jeon Jungkook if he was predictable.

There you were, actually enjoying your time getting to know more of your date over fancy wine in a fancy restaurant he insisted to take you to, when suddenly a figure stops beside your seated self before it was pulling you harshly away from the table.

It took you a few stumbles - because you were wearing high heels, for goodness sake - until you recognized that - “Jungkook?!”

But, he didn’t respond to your surprised outburst. He didn’t even slow down when you informed him to because it was hard walking in your heels - and they were brand new too. He didn’t look back at you and never even spared you a glance when he starts turning to familiar streets until you both reach a familiar building.

He continues to drag you, up the stairs - though this time he does slow down - and until he had you inside his living quarters, the door slamming shut as soon as you two were both inside.

“What was that?”

His apartment was dim, save for the faint light that came from the lamppost out in the streets, but none of you made a move to at least turn out the lights. Despite the calmness in his tone, you couldn’t help but feel fear; something about his question seemed odd, seemed angry.

“I don’t-”

“You were out on a date, weren’t you?”

You gasp as he traps you to the door and it was the first time you notice the lividness in his carob irises.

For a moment, you were mesmerized, still finding the furiousness so beautiful when associated with him. But your feelings turn to confusion until you began to burst as well - “Yes, I was. What is it to you, Jungkook?”

“You were avoiding me, for a week.” He gritted out, his hands silently situating themselves on either side of your face - trapping you just until he gets answers from you. “Is that man the reason why you were too busy to meet up with me?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, because - “No. I just met him three days ago. Anyways, it’s none of your business who I acquaint with. Whoever I want to date is none of your business.”

The way you spat out your words had him freezing, but it was too dark for you to notice. All you could see was pure anger radiating off of Jungkook as he says, “It is my business. I can’t have any diseases from the girls i mess up with. What if you caught them because your new man isn’t clean?”.

Saying it was an insult was an understatement; Jungkook had gone too low. He didn’t even know the man he was oh-so-confidently degrading. Furthermore, he was degrading you. “Fuck you, I am not your whore. And, I am wary of the people i associate with. Stop judging people, Jungkook.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m judging him.”

“You just classified me among your girls. Don’t think I wasn’t listening carefully.” You stood straighter, hands fisting and shaking in the sudden surge of anger rushing through your veins. “It’s not like I’ll be fucking you forever. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to find a stable relationship.”

He didn’t need to know that, you cursed inwardly, but there was nothing more you could do to take back what you said. However, your statement was replied by the familiar silence of his apartment unit.

“What… Do you mean?” You thought your heard his voice croak, but you weren’t having such thoughts raise up your expectations. “I give you awesome sex all the time. Isn’t that stable enough for you?”

You scoff, because, how much of a jerk could he get? “For your information, it’s not, Jungkook. Yeah, it’s amazing and all, but being stable means being exclusive. And if you think exclusive is focusing on other girls too, then you should redefine your dictionary. I can’t expect that from you ever, can I?”

His lips move, the faint light causing his wet lips to glisten, but you didn’t hear whatever he said - if he even said anything. Another silence stretched through the entryway, until Jungkook spoke again. “So, you’re leaving? Just like that? A warning would have been nice.”

His tone was sarcastic, and you miss the way his eyes turn melancholic.

Carelessly, you retort, “I don’t have to tell you anything. Why would I have to ask permission from you? I’m just one of your whores anyways.”

You leave hints here and there, but every time he replies, your heart breaks. He couldn’t understand you, obviously meaning that Jungkook kept with his rules - no strings attached.

When a passing light enter the unit - probably the headlights of a car from outside - , you momentarily see the panic painting Jungkook’s face. You didn’t want to believe it, but when your vision adjusts to the darkness, you confirm that you were not seeing things.

Softly, you raise a hand up to his jaws. He flinches, but he sags when you begin to cup his cheek. Slowly, you tugged his face closer, just until there was a teasing distance between your parted lips. “Why are you so bothered, Jungkook? Tell me.” as if to say: Kiss me.

You observes as his gaze turns hazy, fighting against temptation to stare at your lips. You felt that his actions were no illusions of your love-induced mind. “Tell me.”

Your breath smelled like freshly squeezed grape wine, but all he could remember was that your mouth would always taste sweet no matter what. He should not have leaned in too close, not when he was still in his furious state. Nonetheless, you calmed him down in less than a second and all he wanted to do was -“I…”

You wake up, beautifully as the sun’s rays tickled your exposed skin.

The sheets ruffle up as you throw the covers and stretch sleep away from you.

You dream of red roses, blue forget-me-nots, pretty dreams and beautiful memories.

Then, you dream of musical notes and song compositions, of lyrics and arguments. “Good morning, love.”

You peek behind you, immediately finding a figure beside your side of the bed - black hair ruffled messily and morning smile so *ethereal*. “Good morning.”

He sits up, languidly, laggardly, lazily, until he wraps arms around you and cuddles with you. He kisses your clothed shoulders, lips lingering longer than usual before he rests his cheeks with his eyes facing you. “If it weren’t for your friend, I wouldn’t be waking up to you looking so beautiful in the morning, love.”

You dream of eyes void of emotion, of a body pulling away from you, of five years ago when he says - “I don’t need you. Go ahead and date guys, see if I care.”

“I’m glad too, Namjoon.”

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