#roseate desire got to me

[sowedspicebush]

I.have nothing to say to defend myself.

[throughpatchesofviolet]

✨️✨️✨️ requesting sherry facts pls and thank you :3 <3

Sherry facts coming right up!!

✨ If she appeared in canon, Sherry would (currently) have ten Identities--sorted as follows:

- R. Corp Commander ~ 000 - Rosespanner Workshop Fixer ~ 000 - Seven Association South Section 4 Director ~ 000 - Night Awl Right-Hand (Walpurgisnacht ID) ~ 000 - T. Corp Class 3 Collection Staff ~ 000 - Zwei Association South Section 5 ~ 00 - Cinq Association West Section 3 ~ 00 - Öufi Association South Section 3 ~ 00 - Devyat' Association North Section 3 ~ 00 - LCB Sinner ~ 0

I think it's amusing she has so many Association IDs, especially since she's critical of them in her LCB ID--she does lend a hand when certain Associations request her service, but she isn't fond of them.

✨ Since I'm talking about what she'd have in-game, I also want to share the finalized list of Sherry's (current) E.G.O!

- Default (Currently Unnamed) ~ ZAYIN - Lasso ~ TETH - Bygone Days ~ TETH - Pursuance ~ HE - AEDD ~ HE - Frost Splinter (Walpurgisnacht E.G.O) ~ HE - Everlasting ~ WAW

✨ Sherry does appear in a handful of Mirror Worlds as an NPC of sorts--notably in the Pequod and MultiCrack Mirror Worlds, where she works as an innkeeper and a Workshop Fixer, respectively.

However, in some Mirror Worlds, she appears as a manifestation of one of her E.G.O--for example, Lasso!Sherry appears in the same Mirror World as Wild Hunt!Heathcliff.

[tokyo-chainsaw-dragon2]

i wanna know what having rough sex w raiden is like...i carnally desire him so bad its insane

╭────────༺⚡༻────────╮

I will say that having rough sex with MGS2!Raiden is quite the violent ride.

A/N: This did take longer though since I was fighting writer's block for the past 5 days.

Requested by: Anon

Pairing: MGS2!Raiden X Fem!Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓���� 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟓𝟐���

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+ MDNI, rough sex, unprotected sex, praising kink, dirty talk, masturbation

╰────────༺⚡༻────────╯

Raiden wasn't the type to get rough with you at first, but after a few intimacy sessions in bed, in the shower, and on the living room couch, he started getting rough with you.

He would start off slow with rough kisses here and there before pinning you to the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't escape. You've never seen him get rough with you, only the other way around, but this was definitely an experience for you.

You saw his cock just dying to bulge out of his pants and you whimpered at the sight of it. You reached out your hand to release Raiden's dick, but he grabbed your wrist and kept it held down above your head.

"Ah, ah, ah, don't try and do that with me. You know damn well that you have to wait", he said firmly, tightening the grip on your wrists, which he now had both in the one hand. Raiden allowed his other hand to fiddle around with your pants, stripping you down before himself.

Once your shirt hit the floor, Raiden started giving you hickeys all over your body. Biting your neck, shoulders, and thighs, he couldn't help but notice you panting and begging for his cock. He smirks to himself as he listens to the pleasant sounds coming out of your mouth.

"Raiden, please... Please, let me..." you desperately begged. You couldn't stand him biting you any longer, "...let me have your cock... Ngh..."

"Ready to have your brains fucked out raw then?" he stated, seemingly knowing that it got your attention. You vigorously nodded in response, still reeling back from all the hickeys that made you insane. You even felt your own pussy just dying for his godly cock. Raiden mischievously grinned, starting back up again with the rough kissing.

As he was kissing and trying to distract you, he took off his boxers and freed his dying cock before grinding it up against your folds. You then felt something warm slide into you, choking you up with a burning sellout that felt so pleasant and heavenly. You moaned, feeling Raiden's dick squirm around inside. He let out a howl, feeling the compression of your cunt; it felt so good, so sweltering—Raiden felt like he was in the same fever dream as you were.

"Oh yeah... Fuck, Y/N, you feel so magnificent.... Dammit...", he muttered in between kisses before pounding into you. He did it with such force that all you could do was stay at angle and groan from the pleasure, giving up all possible resistance and authorizing Raiden to control and use you.

The intensity of it all was soon too much to bear—you couldn't stop yourself from cumming. You let out an ear piecing, primitive screech, constricting around him and vibrating as you orgasmed. Raiden did the same, submerging himself balls-deep inside you, griping down with his teeth hard on your shoulder in an attempt to keep himself hushed.

With a low groan, he pulled out. He snatched you up and carted you off to the bathroom. "Bath time, love." He whispered, kissing your roseate cheek. "And then maybe, round two."

[projectmoon-smash-or-pass]

propaganda:

✅️ "as Tumblrs token straight male, let me tell you why Hong Lu is the hottest Project Moon boy. Nay, the hottest Project Moon character. First off, it's established early on in Canto V that Hong Lu's family put him through extensive physical training so if you're smashing him, he'll probably be able to keep it up HOURS longer than you can. Second off, he's nice and has a sense of humor and has long hair. Third off, he has Roseate Desire as an E.G.O so he won't make fun of whatever kinks or fetishes you have because that'd be friendly fire. We've even got Dimension Shredder for the flesh fans. There's also several signs that there's something wrong with him meaning YOU get to fix him! He's basically flawless. The only issue is that his family based on the only relative we see probably won't approve because lets be honest here the demographic of people who'd read this blog and rich people has almost no overlap, but if what I've heard about Wuthering Heights is true, Limbus Heathcliff might back you up on this one."

❓ "i think the sex would be great but he would constantly be going like "wow! golly!" and you just have to be ready for that."

✅️ "smash hong lu and we both have a great time but when hes not looking i steal his wallet and gender"

✅️ "a wise man once said that hong lu made his sexuality take a 45 degree turn and you know what. no matter how goofy as hell he is i am still fucking him"

✅️ "Hong Lu is the most perfect character there is. I love him. I'd press smash 200 times for him"

✅️ "i need to cum inside hong lu and call him pretty"

✅️ "my partner says "he is so attractive i would like to study him under a microscope smash dmash immediately please one chance hong lu ill do anythign pPLEASE" he doesnt even play this game"

[lu-is-not-ok]

I think the egos are supposed to be a way to kind of psychoanalyze the sinners; what do you think it means for Hong Lu to have Roseate Desire?

Ok so. Here's the thing about analyzing Hong Lu based on Roseate Desire. A Sinner having a specific E.G.O is one thing. A Sinner sharing an E.G.O with someone else while also showing distinct difference between each other is another.

Under cut because I got rambly again.

First of all, Pink Shoes is an abberration of Red Shoes, which is an abnormality that exploits one's primal desires.

Pink shoes appears to be similarly exploiting desires, according to the in-battle event, though not much is known about Pink Shoes as an abnormality, as all Abno Logs are more focused on its wearers rather than the abnormality itself (reasonably enough, I doubt the Sinners would have a reason to worry about the shoes specifically when they're being beaten to shit by ribbons and people wearing those shoes).

Based on the fact that Hong Lu shares the E.G.O with Ishmael, we can deduce that that is exactly what Roseate Desire signifies, that a Sinner using it is in some way bound (literally in this case) by their desires. With Ishmael it's implied to be the same compulsion that drives her to search for "That bastard" that is still alive, as her Roseate Desire attack very implicitly mimics that of Snagharpoon.

This is actually the first interesting thing I want to note. While for both Hong Lu and Ishmael the weapons they use in Roseate Desire are unique, there is a notable difference to How they are used.

With Ishmael, the anchor and shield are used almost exactly like the weapons we see her use in her base E.G.O.

With Hong Lu however, not only are his clawed gauntlets not resembling of anything else he uses in either E.G.Os nor IDs, they aren't even used as weapons by him.

Which, actually, brings me to my next point. Ishmael, even when corroded, is very notably In Control of Roseate Desire's ribbons. She's using them to swing the anchor around, and pulling on them to do damage. Though swaying, she's standing on her own two feet.

Notably, this is the opposite of how the ribbons treat Hong Lu. His attack animations are notably stilted, with almost doll-like movements, making it unclear if he's the one controlling the ribbons, or if the ribbons are controlling him. Add to that how his idle pose is reminiscent of a puppet, and it becomes very clear how this E.G.O further ties back to Hong Lu's themes of freedom, or lack thereof.

You could say this is further reflected in what Sin Resources the E.G.Os use. While both of them use a lot of Lust, it's notable that Ishmael's uses Wrath, a Sin associated with direct action, while Hong Lu's uses Envy, a Sin more so associated with reacting to the actions of others.

Some other small details that I'd like to note that aren't like. Major factors. But still corroberate what my final verdict is:

The amount of the pink tint singifying Pink Shoes's control over its posessee is noticeably larger on Hong Lu than on Ishmael, in both Awakening and Corrosion sprites.

Ishmael's Awakening dialogue line very explicitly has her trying to resist the Pink Shoes, with a tone of voice that is similar to her usual, while her Corroded one has seemingly given in into the temptation and completely changed how she sounds. Notably, Hong Lu has the same tone of voice across both his dialogue lines for this E.G.O, is already seemingly taken over in his Awakening line, and his Corroded line sounds more like something the shoes themselves would say rather than what someone taken over by them would.

An interesting design detail for this E.G.O is that, in both the illustration and Corroded sprites, Ishmael and Hong Lu have a different part of their face covered, that imo is symbolizing something. Ishmael has one of her eyes covered up, tying back to her one-track obsession that the Pink Shoes are exploiting by seemingly blinding her to everything that isn't her desire. Hong Lu, on the other hand, has his mouth covered up, fitting with his seeming lack of his own will when using this E.G.O.

So uh, my final Verdict? If it were just Hong Lu that had Roseate Desire, I would say that he's easily controlled by his own whims and say that we can't get a better read on him than that because we don't have enough information about him.

HOWEVER! This isn't the case. In fact, being able to compare his Roseate Desire to Ishmael's completely changes the context here. The desires that are controlling him aren't his own, they're what other people want of him. That's why he's moving like a puppet, that's why his version uses Envy, that's why his Corroded sprite has a covered up mouth and has him speak for the Shoes themselves.

Hong Lu's Roseate Desire implies he's the type to buckle and follow whatever other people tell him to do. Which, well, isn't that far off from what we know about him. Hell, even Kurokumo Hong Lu, who very explicitly does not like to follow orders, still notably follows them anyway and is said to be good at doing so when push comes to shove.

It all ties back to Hong Lu's themes of freedom and control over his life, doesn't it?

[movedraptor5913]

To throw my hat in the ring for anyone who wants tips on Mirror Dungeon 2 Hard Mode, this is what I've got. It's mostly anecdotal, so take it as you will:

Starter Buffs

Technically unnecessary, but in the way that airbags are "technically unnecessary" for a car to run. It'll go fine for a while, but you won't like it when something hits you.

Your mileage may vary on what to pick up in terms of buffs, but you will want buffs. My first two runs in Hard Mode were with +3 offense and +2 defense, since I wanted to maximize my clash power. Second run also had +1 max speed, which was nice to have, but it wasn't game changing from what I've noticed.

Starters

In both runs I've done so far, I used Rabbit Heathcliff, Tingtang Gang Leader Hong Lu, LCCB Ishmael, L Corp Faust and Rosespanner Meursault.

Rabbit Heath is just good, period. Tingtang HL is good at mopping up low health enemies and can clash with Shank (or Mutilate, in a pinch). L Corp Faust is a glass cannon that can clash well enough with Deep Cuts and Opportunistic Slash, though not as well as the other Sinners. LCCB Ish and Rose Salt can both clash well. Ish can inflict a few different useful debuffs, although you might need EGO gifts to get better mileage out of them. The weakest link of this bunch is definitely Meursault, but both he and Ish share the job of "getting punched in the gut and not folding in half".

You're gonna want to bring a unit or two that can tank, which most versions of Meursault can do well enough. You *will not* be able to win every clash, so you might as well have someone who can brace for the hit with Guard or Protection. Dodge still does well, but some enemies later on can attack higher than your dodge can cover. Best you can hope for is dodging most of a multi-coin attack in these cases.

Try to make sure your units are at least lvl 30 T3 before taking them in. Offense/Defense Level affects clash power, remember.

(Partly because I don't have the starting Cost boost and partly due to personal preference, I don't like running N Sinclair in the Mirror Dungeon. N Sinclair doesn't feel suited for the environment's sanity retention mechanic. That being said, a lot of people use him here anyway because he hits like a train.)

EGO

Having a wider variety of options for big hits will serve you well in not stressing over which big hit to use resources for. You'll also want to use them with discretion during standard fights, so you don't have to worry about having resources in fights you need them for.

Bodysack and Land of Illusion serve their usual roles as cheap big hit and good AoE respectively. Snagharpoon was useful for its different targeting priority in normal fights, which let me take some pressure off of units that would've been hit unopposed otherwise. Chains of Others and Representation Emitter were my panic buttons. If something was hitting too hard, I'd use Chains. If I lacked SP for clashing, I used Emitter.

The EGOs I've ended up using the most besides base ones were Roseate Desire (Hong Lu T2), Legerdemain (Gregor T3), Screwloose Wallop (Meursault T2), and Hex Nail (Faust T3). Ardor Blossom Star, Fluid Sac and Pursuance were also equipped, but they didn't see use in any meaningful capacity. Run one did also feature a fair bit of Sunshower (Outis T3) after she joined as my seventh member.

Pickup Characters

0 and 00 characters are free, so you're gonna learn to use them. Even if you don't care about anyone besides your core team, pick up some freebies for support passives.

Run one had a good start in terms of Cost, so I was able to pick up G Corp Gregor and Seven Outis early on. I didn't think to pick up any other characters until Floor 5, where I picked up base Rodion, Mariachi Sinclair and Seven Yi Sang.

Run two started with Faust and Meursault almost biting it at the end of the Floor 1 boss fight, so I picked up Mariachi Sinclair, Seven Yi Sang and Rosespanner Gregor for the team. Support from the other Sinners came later on, but Yi Sang and Meursault traded places on the team depending on the need until Meursault got healed. (In retrospect, why did I put El Jefe on my team? I didn't even remember he had Sinking at the time)

EGO Gifts

Your run's success wont hinge on getting the best EGO gifts but making the best of the options you're presented with.

You'll want to cover three bases: healing, EGO generation and damage. The specifics don't matter quite as much but try to shore up where your team feels like it's lacking, if possible. Just be smart about how you spend your Cost. A rest and a gift can be equally important.

That being said, Nebulizer has been shockingly useful for me. 4 turns/uses of crit chance on units that hit like trucks but otherwise have no crits can be quite nice if it activates. Phlebotomy Pack and Homeward have also been nice pickups when they appeared.

Some Strats I Have

Play smarter than Win Rate. It's utterly useless in focus fights and only helpful as a guide in harder normal fights. If you've played for a while, this isn't a new idea.

2. A lot of your clashes will be Neutral or worse. There are two things I look for in these: "Is my best roll worse than their best roll?" and "Is their worst roll worse than my one coin?"

If your best attack roll is worse than their best attack roll, it might be worth it to use a defense skill instead. This is especially so in human fights, as losing the clash will give the enemy higher SP, which makes further clashes riskier. Alternatively, use an EGO, if you feel it's necessary to.

Related to the above, EGOs can still lose clashes and there's not much that can be done about your odds in these situations, so keep your sanity high (or low, if you like to live dangerously) and hope for the best.

If your one coin on a multi-coin skill is better than their worst roll, it might be worthwhile to go through with the clash. This is especially true in Abnormality fights, where it's a flat 50/50 for each coin they have. (If your skill only has one coin to begin with, see the first bullet point.)

3. You can use unit speed to delay clashed attacks in focused battles. If you have multiple units that can redirect an attack and the slower unit doesn't have worse success chance, you can use the slower unit to clash to get free damage in early and potentially stagger the enemy before the clash happens.

4. If you don't like how a fight is turning out, you can withdraw from the fight before the result shows up to act like that fight didn't happen.

How my runs went

Run one had two speed bumps: Fairy Gentleman and Kromer. Fairy Gentleman took a while to fight because I didn't know the fight's mechanics. The two previous times I've fought him in normal conditions, I steamrolled him before any effects could really build up. I still don't know how he works besides "don't get everyone boosted" because he gets a clash buff against units who have morale boost.

The final fight with Kromer on the other hand, was resolved by dumping EGO into every clash I wasn't confident in. I had picked up Rusty Coin earlier on Floor 5, so while both fights took 7 turns, Kromer's took far less brainpower.

Run two was a bit more scuffed with some unlucky RNG early on that I decided to just work through instead of trying to min-max. Besides my questionable decision to bring El Jefe as my 6, the run wasn't very eventful. Floor 4 was So That No One Will Cry and Floor 5 was Shock Centipede. The talisman doll wasn't an issue because I didn't run enough debuffs I cared about for the debuff sharing to be an issue. The centipede was just calculated risk with clashes while keeping sanity up. As long as you have good sanity, you're more likely to succeed on EGO clashes. Pair this with the clash delay tactic and life gets easier.

Anyway, thanks for reading if you made it this far. I've had a good time with MD2 Hard Mode so far. I keep hearing how bad the fish and the statue are to fight, so I'm hoping I can encounter them on my next run to see how well my team holds up.

[limbusrailway]

✨ and 📖 for the Limbus ask meme! Saw that you also like classic lit :]

✨️ - I have a soft spot for Pursuance Meursault!! I wish I had a Lantern Gregor as well but he will come home some day :3 Though if I am to be candid and cave to my friends' loving callouts. Pink Shoes... I-I think everyone likes the Roseate Desire set though... Right?

📖 - HM okay time to go down the list! I hope to read all of them someday but obviously the varied lengths and different copyright statuses and languages of the works makes it a little bit of a quest. I shall go in order!

I have a translation of Yi Sang's book sitting ready to go on my laptop but haven't started quite yet.

I have both Marlowe's and Goethe's Fausts as physical copies and am slowly making my way through (I expect Goethe to go faster because Marlowe writes in Shakespearean English so it can get tricky).

I know the basics of Quixote's but have yet to get my hands on a copy. Hopefully soon! I know it is LONG though so we shall see.

No idea where to find Hell Screen (Ryoshuu) but I sincerely hope I'll be able to read it untranslated someday, as I'm learning JP.

Read The Stranger earlier this year, before I knew about the game actually! Meursault is my blorbo in all forms. I still sometimes lose it over excerpts from the novel with friends.

HONG LU IS ANOTHER LONG ONE I HAVE NOT TOUCHED I probably can't read it untranslated but I have friends that are native Chinese speakers so when I get to it I'm hoping they'll be able to help point out translation nuances.

Wuthering Heights is sitting on my shelf it's another I haven't gotten to quite yet. I have a reason though that being that my favorite joke about it is less funny if I know what happens. That being that obviously the only thing that happens in Wuthering Heights is that the Heights are Wuthing.

I tried to read Moby Dick when I was like 7 it did not stick lmao. We shall remedy this shortly. Call me Fishmael. I did enjoy losing it seeing an entire shelf of ONLY different editions of Moby Dick at a bookstore recently though.

I am presently reading Crime and Punishment :D gods there is so much monologuing (I love it)

EMIL SINCLAIR EMIL SINCLAIR MY BELOVED YOU HOMOSEXUAL YOU GENIUS um in any case I read Demian around 2 months ago I have not stopped thinking since my discord status is a Demian reference I constantly talk to people about it it has inspired me to fucking go for living my life

Tried reading The Odyssey when I was like 12 got a third of the way through was distracted by Athena's anime eyes and slow pacing I am confident I won't have a choice in reading this eventually, might do The Illiad first though to be safe.

I read Metamorphosis in a single night in a feral stupor I just remembered Gregor trying to open a door with his mouth and started crying.

I have too many words and too many emotions and every time I remember another thing that got adapted into the Cantos I fucking lose it

[t0kyo-l1ghts]

it just dawned on me that never once did I share anything regarding my Limbus OCs, cause I wanted to have everything ready - including their art - by the time I posted them, but I'm kind of impatient, so I'll just talk about one of them: Victor Frankenstein. I have a couple good drawings of him so I might attach those in a follow up cause I have most of them on my phone. ANYWAYS, let's get this bread

Victor Frankenstein

Peculiars: Solitary, Paranoid

Weapon: Galvanism (Modified Stun Baton Staff)

Associated Colour: #6B8778 "Rot Green"

Affiliation: Limbus Company

Occupation: LCB Sinner

Literary Source: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Associated Sins: Pride, Wrath, Gloom

Base EGO: Never-Ending Hubris

He joins LCB after the creation of the monster, who, in true project moon fashion, is a little bit more fucked up than the source material, as instead of just standing there Menacingly he actually attacks Victor on sight, breaking his jaw really badly. He gets an operation where he's given a prosthetic and is picked up by Vergilius shortly after.

His base EGO art, Never-Ending Hubris, depicts him in his collage dorm wearing the LCB Sinner pyjamas/prison outfits stitching the monster together- who is obscured by a white sheet. There's a couple of mementos like the medal with his mother's picture in it, a family photo, and a seperate picture of Elizabeth etc. The EGO itself would involve him having those electroshock thingies yk the ones doctor's use to revive a patient and him freaking tf out thinking the monster is still out there

The abnormalities I would kin assign to him are Shock Centipede (AEDD), Wayward Passenger (Dimension Shredder), Alleyway Watchdog (Telepole) and perhaps Pink Shoes (Roseate Desire).

His canto I imagine would take place after William and Justine's death, where Victor has a mental breakdown cause he knows he could have done something about Justine's verdict, but probably wouldn't have actually said anything to protect his own pride - much like in the novel. The Sinners try to find the culprit and eventually encounter the monster, who named himself Adam, and this is where we get a mashup of both Victor and Adam's backstory, where we're show the events as they happen simultaneously, though I've yet to think of an ending for it. Maybe they manage to "defeat" Adam, giving Victor the semblance of closure for delivering justice for both his little brother and adopted sister, and sarajinae plays. Idrk tbh, probably.

So far this is all I have for my funny guy, glad I finally got this out of my system tbh, have a nice rest of your day

[animalpetcel]

Hell Yeah!

So, my first Railway clear was done in 148 turns. Not bad, but I did want that 120 turns banner (esp bc there's nothing to do as we wait for the event)

So I maxed Shi-Ish, LFaust and Liu Meursault bc those were the the ones who were only levels 20-22. And then I maxed uptied Ebony Stem, Hex Nail and Ledgermain while also pushing Ish's Roseate Desire to level 2 for the passives. Lastly, I finally got a friend that had WDon with the Telepole EGO, and tried again

AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT

I def won't go lower then this lol. Now time to get to farming for the event EGOs coming up (also I can get a Don EGO, finally!)

(Also lots of help goes to the PM discord I am in. Everyone gave me lots of tips and what the idea turn count for each stage was)

[i-belong-in-a-retirement-home]

"How about, just one kiss?"

A little ficlet for a vaguely a/b/o Inukag fanfic I got floating around my failing braincells. Wrote it at 3 am in my notes app, so obviously not beta read.

Basically, Kagome gets drunk at a party, and decides to start coming on to InuYasha. InuYasha is trying to fight the urge to comply to her every whim.

CONTENTS INCLUDE: implied drinking, suggestive language

"Bite me" she slurred, liquor heavy on her breath.

Goosebumps prickled on his neck, "What?!" 

"Oh? You didn't hear me?" She leaned towards him, "I said, BITE ME!"

Scent flooded his nose, overwhelming his senses, as she drunkenly swayed forward. Her chest pressed against his in her unbalanced state. His face flushed, and not from any sort of beverage. From the low cut of her shirt, he could see, well, everything. Between sights and smells, his inhibitions were quickly leaving him. Since her skin was so close, her delicate, honey-laden scent was wreaking havoc in his brain.

So quickly, grabbing hold of her shoulders, Inuyasha shoved the drunk girl' body away from his own. Probably harsher than he meant to.

"Oh!" She squeaked, "Playing rough~ I like that!"

He chuckled nervously, "No, I-"

She placed a finger on his lips. "Shush, I knoowww," she slurred, yet again, "I was-- the one!" She shot her hands up, in a cheerleader fashion.

She started to fall backwards, and he rushed forward to catch her. Her raised arms fell limp on his shoulders. Again, she leaned up against him, swaying gently. Fingers found the tie that held up his hair and released it. Silver strands flowed across his face and torso. 

Her eyes lit up, enchanted by the way he looked at hers. Amber eyes searching, begging, yearning for her. He wet his lips. They looked so firm. His arms held her. They felt so steady. Koga had never looked like this. The poor boy was trembling, and from the way he supported her, she trembled right along with him. Now was the moment.

She stretched to her tiptoes, warm breath breezing past his ear. Hands begged to move. Her shirt had ridden up, right where his devious hands held her. The gentle flesh was cool to the touch, twitching against his own skin. He hungered for more, to feel more of her. More of the silk she called skin. To feel her heart race just under it. To taste her supple flesh. 

"InuYasha, I know."

Her silken voice sent shivers down his spine, sowing betrayal in every cell.

"I know what I did to you~" she giggled gently.

"I'm not quite certain i know what you mean," he managed to fumble, quickly succumbing to her advances.

 For what felt like centuries, he had longed for this moment. For her to acknowledge him. And here she was, throwing herself on him. But it wasn't right. The foul stench of liquor tainted what should have been the most beautiful moment of his life.

"Shushush!! It's okay, don't be nervous!"

In her drunken state, she clearly knew nothing of his thoughts.

"I heard, there is a solution in the case of our situation." Her breath was hot on his neck, sending tingles down his spine. "If you bite me, you know, it can let me, smell you. I could, feel how you do." She giggled, pausing between almost every word, the alcohol interfering with her thoughts.

He knew what she meant though. The method of bite was centuries old. As a Beta, she was not privy to all the scents and desires brought on by the mind of an Alpha. But if he bit her, for a period of time, she could experience it all.

But no matter how he wanted to, how glorious it would be for her to know. His body ached and begged him to fulfill her desires. But his brain knew that there was no way to know if it was her, or the alcohol speaking.

"That brings, me back, to my original point. You should bite me!" She said, a sudden burst of excitement lighting her roseated features. "I think, it's a great idea!"

"Kagome, this isn't a good- I- it's not-" he stuttered. Again, she rose up on her tiptoes, swaying slightly, caramel eyes focused on his lips.

He swallowed dryly, every bit of moisture gone as she continued to lean in. Her scent flowing heavier than he had ever experienced, clouding his mind. Desperate for some clarity, Inuyasha tried to pull his hands away from her back, to put some space between them. However, she quickly closed the gap, restless hands finding place on his hips.

"Kagome, seriously, this isn't- I won't do-" He needed to find anyway to side track her. "Wait! What about- about Koga!"

"Koga and I are on a break! You don't have to worry about him!" She assured InuYasha

One little white lie never hurt anyone. At least that's what the several beers and two shots told her. She had to know what he felt. The way his eyes darted about. From her lips, to her eyes. His nerves delighted her.

Oh. Shit. He had completely forgotten about Koga. That jackass would kill him for sure. But once again, the power of her scent began to cloud his judgement. That glorious scent of honey and cherries eroded nearly any logical part of his brain away.

"How about, just one kiss?"

[andromedako]

can i say top 5 ego in limbus

YESSSS ok.

tie between ishy's roseate desire and ardor blossom star. both of them r so good to me. a little biased towards roseate desire tho bc i saved up for that one

aedd heathcliff. i just got him but ohhh my god this one is so fun. the batshit insane laugh.

telepole quixote. i love her corrosion SO much. u go girl!!!

hex nail faust. i just love this one in general. lol

lantern gregor. this one has grown on me and i cant rlly explain why i like this one but i just do. theres smth abt this. ALSO HIS CORROSION IS.... IT SCARED ME THE FIRST TIME I SAW IT.

[lespritdekin]

enslaving appetence.

the man dressed in white was an enigma, but his revolting desire to possess you for all of his eternity wasn't. na jaemin was the devil's entity in human form, and he scorched you in the burning flames of your nightmares.

pairingㅡ yandere!jaemin x fem!reader

other charactersㅡ best friend and crush!jeno

genreㅡ yandere!au

warningsㅡ madman!jaemin, stalking, obsession, unhealthy possessiveness, mentions of sexual preferences, breach of privacy, implied physical abuse, use of a baseball bat.

song recㅡ she will be loved by maroon 5

disclaimerㅡ as far as my miniscule intelligence could muster, i may have posted this piece on wattpad a year ago or two under the name 'neo alternative plots' or alike. with that explanation, please don't react to the oneㅡshot's presence here on tumblr negatively. this also isn't proofread.

You watched as the pink decorations of the ceiling mimicked your nose, the happy smile on your face getting greeted by an excited Roseanne. You embraced her dressed her figure as she did your own, the gentle noise of the lullabies of her favorite songs supplemented her girlish saturnalia.

You observed your environment and smiled widely, this was the theme you wanted when you were sixteen, and you're happy your best friend got to live her dreams.

You were scooping in a small bowl of punch to drink and munch on as all of you were at the backyard of Roseanne's home, a film on going about your female companion's life story to where she is now. As you were about to pull a slice of lasagna from the tray, a large figure dressed in white shadowed your hand.

You looked up to see a gorgeous brunette with dark, tantalizing eyes, his pretty lips in a small lopsided smile. You unconsciously swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled your hand away from him, apologizing for the things you've never done wrong.

❝I don't accept apologies from gentle faces, princess.❞ A lethargic smirk made its way to his devastatingly breathtaking face, the air escaping your nose suddenly asking for entrance.

❝Although, I'd love to see you rotten.❞ The leathery substance of his inky voice held your throat captive in its seat, the inching hand on your own tiny one made your skin crawl. Your eyes trembled from their sockets, the humidity of his lips turning your skin cold.

What did he want to turn you in?

R-Rotten?

❝P-please,❞ You squeaked, his eyes turning darker, duller, more disheartening. ❝Let go of me.❞ The nimble appendages around yours tightened their grip, the male forced a smile. You yanked your hand away, and a broad back made its way to greet your mousy nerves. Your cheek touched the soft fabric of his lavender pullover, and you immediately acknowledged the scent.

❝Respect the girl's privacy, man.❞ Jeno grumbled from his strong stance, the sardonic, hateful laugh of the man with midnight eyes eyeing your best friend's hand on yours, the way your fingers clutched at Jeno and not at him.

❝Pretty boy came to pretty girl's rescue, how romantic.❞ The white silk of his fit tuxedo adjusted, his hand running up the thick strands of his brown hair. His head hung down, but his eyes bulged forward. Your hands scrambled to find substance of relief when his feet came closer and closer, his abyssmal orbs boring right into your savior.

❝Better watch out for the Madman if you want your skin unscathed.❞ The silence of his voice caused you to wince, and you hid your face on Jeno's back, his hand instinctively holding your arm. The odd chap turned away, went on his heel, and disappeared into the party. You held your head, Jeno turning immediately to hold you close to him.

❝You're alright, [Name]. You're safe.❞ Tears blurred your vision and you cried, large thumbs swiping them away. Jeno didn't need to ask what you needed to have, wanted to hold, he was there through it all, and he's seen you in lights other people haven't, seen you burned and drowned and survived.

❝I'll take you home.❞ Jeno excused the both of you, telling the birthday girl that you needed to leave. Rosie embraced you and wished for your well-being before you left. Jeno never let go of your hand, you've been staring at it for the entire while. The male looks down at you, an apologetic smile on his face.

❝I'll hold your hand, don't worry. The parking lot's only a few blocks away, I'll keeping you close.❞ You didn't give him a response, continuing to walk along side him.

You sat inside the front seat and held your phone with trembling hands, your best friend turning on the heater for you. He kissed your head before driving away from the parking lot, wanting to play the first song of your favorite playlist whenever you're feeling down.

❝Dㅡdo you mind?❞ You softly asked Jeno, his eyes suddenly turning into crescent moons when he looked at you. ❝Go on.❞ You turned your phone of and browsed through the screen, pressing onto the first song of a dozen. Your nose had turned red from crying, and the only way you could ease it away was by listening to your favorite songs.

Jeno caught a glimpse of your face once the tune reverberated within the vehicle. He sighed, absolutely despised when male after male molest you. You weren't a toy to play with, you needed care, love and guidance, some things he's always done to you for so long.

You felt revolting. You felt like your world was crippling, distorting, shattering, just as you were finally alright again, just as you were finally read to be happy again. Your fingers shivered despite the ongoing heat of the car. Your best friend took notice and held your hand in his again, your heart almost ‎skipping another beat.

He brought you to your flat and made sure that your roommates were home. He gave you a towel after knocking on the door for permission, seeing your newly washed face gave him feathers inside. You were so adorable like that. You dried your face and changed into a pair of thick pink pajamas, your thoroughly scrubbed hand rivaling the feminine color.

You assisted Jeno on the way to the door after he made sure all of your windows and doors were locked and snug. You laughed at him softly after the occurrence of a male touching you like a predator temporarily left your mind as you see Jeno with roseate adorning his cheeks.

You look up at him with red eyes, already wrapping your arms around him. ❝I could kiss you right now.❞ He muttered, holding your cheek. ❝But, I don't have your consent, and your roommates are probably awake.❞ You giggled wholeheartedly, causing him to heave a sigh despite chuckling.

❝[Name], your parents might hate me!❞ He whined, but you continued to laugh, you didn't give a damn if he brought you to a stage and kissed you in front of a crowd, you didn't care if he kissed you in a family reunion.

❝You two are so annoying!❞ Someone screamed from two bedrooms down, the both of you and Jeno genuinely laughing. Despite allowing his submission to appear, his hands never left your back protectively, and you felt safer than a baby getting taken care of an entire village.

He held you in his arms one last time before walking through the doorway, closing the door after him. You leaned your back on the smooth wood and slid down, keeping your squeals at minimum. Your person of interest of almost a year held you like you were the most delicate thing in the world, kissed your hair, made you feel special, and wanted your parent's approval of everything.

You went back to your room and screamed into the pillows, your hand waiting for the phone to ding. You eventually turned drowsy, but you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, but they were futile. You went downstairs and had three glasses of water, all chugging them down in one go.You washed your face in the kitchen sink and washed your glass and was about to return, not until one of your favorite songs played through the speakers from your room.

Your eyes trembled, and so did your hands.

You immediately hid inside a bottom cabinet, covering your mouth with your hands.Your roommates never entered your room strictly without your word, and they disliked your odd taste in music for them to play your speaker and one of your favored songs. Just before you could foolishly land your foot over the creaking wood of the stairwell, the screeching noise of your room opened, heavy, aching boots gripped the silence of the flat, and you almost pissed yourself.

You covered your ears, the sound of another thumping object frightening you. He desired nothing but to daunt you, turn you into a demented marionette, just like him.

Beauty queen of only eighteen

She had some trouble with herself

He was always there to help her

She always belonged to someone else

Each nerve in your body stiffened and your teeth clattered, you assume your hair stood in all directions, and you're certain your heartbeat's abormally thumping inside your chest. You need Jeno, but your phone's in your room, you could call or run for your roommates, but he'd already be there, appendages wrapped prettily around your neck.

And indeed, he was awaiting for your arrival of submission.

I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door

I've had you so many times, but somehow, I want more

The deafening dollops of burning rubber on wood ceased sound, but the certain reverberating outcries of polished wood on rusty ones had you inching closer to the corner of an enclosure that barely fit you, and your mind was running wild. He could feel it, your idiotic heartbeat grumbling inside an unprotected fence, something he can break so easily.

❝I don't mind spending everyday out on the corner in the pouring rain.❞

Your eyes shot up, the accostumed voice in your ears, the silent, demanding whispers, the glacial, dispassionate delivery of a monster, and you've only heard it once. He smirked, tracing the dimly lit crevices from the street lamps standing tall on the fronts of the floor, the thin glass of the windows making him believe how pathetic you were, how much of a feeble-minded whore you were.

Look for the girl with a broken smile

Ask her if she wants to stay a while

You hear footsteps again, aggressive, menacing, resounding, and he was so close, so near of getting his hands on you, taking what was never his. You enclosed your fingers and bit your knuckle, closing your eyes shut. Tears encaptured the pink-stained skin of your plump, delicate cheeks. He could materialize the trembling clatter of your teeth, the perspiration in between your chest, and the reverberating drift of your clenching pussy.

And she will be loved

❝She will be loved.❞

[projectmoon-smash-or-pass]

propaganda:

✅ "Its been a long week Ishmael... Pass the Yuri"

✅️ "the one of the most infamous names in the entire project moon fandom is solely defined by how much he simps for ishmael. there is absolutely no escape. i got my friend into limbus because of how hot ishmael was and it because the profile of his private twitter account. there is absolutely no debate. i would let her slam me into a fishing pond, hit me over the head with a glass bottle, throw me against a chair, ANYTHING"

✅️ "i downloaded limbus because i saw her molar boatworks id + immediately had a HUGE yuri moment. i needed her in my life. i want to bury myself in her hairrr. i want to fuck her. i want her to fuck meeeeee !!!!!"

✅️ (image below)

✅️ "im just saying that when liu ishmael dropped the entirety of limbus twitter and a few outliers went batshit over her voice"

❌ "too much hair :("

✅️ "Ok like. She worked with the pequod for quite some time, she's gotta be pretty muscled and scarred(Obvious plus). Plus it'd give experience and knowledge tying knots(as if Roseate Desires wasn't enough bondage fuel for Ishmael). Also very frequently headcanoned as trans so imagine if you will, ginger trans sailor woman who could tie you up so perfectly and rail you even better. 120% smash

(Though if I'm being perfectly honest I am horribly biased. Ishmael made me trans my gender and realize I liked women. I'm getting a tattoo of her sinner icon in like a week. I'm cosplaying her in a few months. So take my words with a hefty grain of salt)"

✅️ "counterpoint to the too much hair ishmael propoganda, first of all, how dare you, and second, her hair is half the appeal. you can play with it. i bet its so soft. you can bury your face in it. also, it's beautiful. ishmael <3"

✅️ "to quote a tweet i saw "im gonna suck her dick until she’s groaning like a beached whale" (they wrote it for captain ishmael but shush)"

✅️ "i thought her sloshing id was "sploshing" instead and i got so wet i made a new ocean"

[ticklefits]

would love to see a bit of promptis from you 👀 just two guys being Stupid! we love that for them. if u need smth specific but not too specific uhhhhh Tickle Fight!!! -tickleraptorss

promptis + rock paper scissors (:< | @tickleraptorss ♥

☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆

“You’ve lost two times already, Prompto. You know what happens if you lose the third time.” Noctis’ smug expression curls butterfly wings within the pit of his boyfriend’s stomach, the aforementioned blond attempting to sway his nerves calm and boast faux confidence despite his predicament. 

“Third time’s the charm, babe! That’s what they always say!” He retorts, much too happy - go - lucky for the prince to believe he isn’t nervous. 

“Better hope that Lady Luck’s smilin’ down on ya’ then.” 

Prompto grants Noctis a determined smile ( hopes he doesn’t notice the bead of sweat that cascades down the side of his temple ) and with a nod from the other, their fists raise to chest level for the third time, pumping with a simultaneous count of: 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Prompto’s blood runs cold. He observes in disbelief, lips slightly agape, at Noctis’ scissors to his paper; he’s been defeated. 

“Hah! What was that you were saying about third time’s the charm, huh?”

“I⎯⎯! B-Best two out of three!” 

“Too late for that.”

Prompto shivers as anticipation runs over the freckled surface of his skin like he’d been dipped under an autumn river. Slowly, he begins to rise from his seat in the chair, as if Noctis wasn’t going to notice his feeble attempt to flee. Before Prompto even moves an inch away from the table, Noctis bolts up, slings each limb around his waist and tugs him in close for a hug. 

Prompto’s no fool though. He already begins to squirm and wriggle in his prince’s embrace, giggles bubbling up from his throat and cheeks painting a roseate hue.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” Noctis almost sounds like he’s sighing, tonality amused as ever.

“Yehet!” Prompto protests, still wiggling about, but they both recognize how half - hearted it is and that the goal isn’t to truly get away, but to provide an illusion of the desire to all the same. 

“Yet.” Noctis parrots him, and without any semblance of a warning, slides both of his hands to his love’s sides to dig gentle scribbles into the clothed flesh. “Now, I am.”

Prompto squeals upon contact, his sides ranking damn high on his personal chart of ticklishness and Noctis knows this well. His giggles heighten in volume and pitch, knees already buckling under the sensations.

“NohOHOho⎯! Y⎯⎯You cheheheated sohomehohohow!” The blond squeaks out, pressing his palms against Noctis’ wrists, but making no real motion to signal for him to stop. 

Noctis gasps dramatically, as if what Prompto just said was incredibly offensive. 

“How would I cheat at rock, paper, scissors? It’s literally a game of chance.”

“Nohoho it’s nohoHOT! It’s⎯⎯ahAHA⎯⎯it’s a m-mihihind gahahame!”

“Mind game? Pfft, yeah, whatever. No mind trickery here. I can’t believe you just called me a cheater at rock, paper, scissors; I think I oughta teach you to be nicer.”

With that statement, spidering fingers advance towards Prompto’s hips, a recognized death spot of his, one that’s got Prompto sweating as Noctis inches closer and closer. 

“Noho! Nononono, nAHAht thehehere!” 

Just before Noctis touches down, one of Prompto’s arms rears back after releasing his boyfriend’s wrists, settling on a random patch of covered skin that just happened to be slightly below Noctis’ rib. He delivers desperate squeezes to the area, which prove more than enough to cause the prince to yelp out loud and loosen his grip on Prompto. 

“Ahah!” Prompto cries victoriously, circulating quickly on his heels to face Noctis, even with the other’s arms still somewhat around his waist, and prods all over the area at, below, and above his ribs. 

“H-Hey!” Noctis sputters, completely taken aback by this new situation, with Prompto having turned the tables. He opposes the laughter that burns warm in his chest, skin tingling with those familiar ticklish pulses that he’ll deny as much as he can until it becomes too much. 

“All’s fair in love and tickle war, your highness!” It’s Prompto’s turn to don a pompous grin, relishing in the sweet vendetta of dancing his fingers along the grooves between his boyfriend’s ribs. 

It’s only after he holds his laughter back for what seems like forever and the entirety of his visage colors a stark crimson, that Noctis finally begins to break down into soft, stubborn giggles, squirming even more than Prompto was minutes ago. 

“Ehehe, sometimes I forget just how ticklish you are, Noct.~ It’s so cute, watchin’ the prince of Lucis crumble into giggles.” 

“Sh⎯Shuhut uhuhup⎯!” He manages between another yelp when Prompto’s nimble digits squeeze at his sides and just above his hips. He isn’t about to just let Prompto dominate the scene however; not when this was supposed to be a punishment for HIM losing at the game that HE suggested. 

With a refreshed resolve, Noctis takes advantage of the fact that his hands still lay atop Prompto’s sides and swiftly, he slides them down to the other’s hips and drills his fingers into the sensitive area. 

A shriek pierces the air and before either of them realize it, they're on the floor of their hotel room, Noctis hovering over Prompto. The royal seizes the opportunity presented to him and straddles his partner, knees on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t bother binding Prompto’s arms, because as soon as Noctis zeros in on his hips again, Prompto is rendered human jelly. 

He screams again, the sound immediately dissolving into helpless, loud, pitchy laughter, full-bodied and music to Noctis’ ears. Prompto may have gotten the upper hand for a bit there, but Noctis just knows his body much too well at this point. 

“Now we know who the REAL cheater is.” Noctis taunts, smirking something close to dangerous at the gunslinger writhing underneath him. “Gotta give you due props for tryin’ though.”

Prompto could hardly hear what Noctis said above all of his howling laughter, much less grant him a coherent response. At some point, when his boyfriend began alternating between squeezing song beats and scribbling random shapes into his hips, is when he’d had enough. 

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes and his voice was slowly growing hoarse, but Prompto finally managed a weak: “I-I’m sohohohorry!”

Upon notice of the apology, Noctis slowed his assault down to a complete halt, lifting his fingers from Prompto’s body and leaning down to settle a kiss from his temple to his lips. He smiled down at the love of his life, a thin sheet of sweat glistening along his red stained skin, bringing out fawn and chestnut shades of his freckles even more. A silly, tired, beautiful smile lit up his features and Noctis felt compelled to indulge into another kiss. 

“And you called me cute..” He mumbles fondly, sliding up and off of Prompto, taking the blond with him off of the ground. “C’mon, time for a nap.” 

“Mm.. Noct, it’s 3pm..”

“And?”

“Iggy’s gonna get mad if we nap ‘cause then we’re gonna be up all night.”

“What Specs doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s off with Gladio and Iris doing some shopping, they’ll be gone for hours.”

Prompto rubs at his eyes, his mouth cracking open on a yawn and ending on a small giggle when Noctis hops onto the bed and opens his arms for him, urging Prompto to settle up against him. “Fine, fine.. How could I possibly refuse my prince?” He yawns once again, gladly accepting the invitation into waiting arms and drifting off almost immediately to slumber.

[bymoonchild]

Sugarplum Elegy (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, FWB!AU, Soundcloud singer!AU, Idiots to Lovers!AU Warnings | Explicit language, hopeless and helpless pining, constipated feelings, lots of smut, rimming, cum-eating, spitting, blowjob, fingering, classroom sex, Jungkook is emotionally constipated but wbk  Summary | You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while.

Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

Word count | 17.9k

There’s no greater testament to love than love itself – the sheer vulnerability of being bound to someone emotionally and physically, and the aching process that bleeds into infinity. To love in every sense of the word is to offer your entire heart and place it on someone's bare hands, despite knowing that they might crush it in front of your very eyes.

Maybe love is like a dandelion, pretty during the summer mornings, but upon a huge gust of wind, its petals will be blown away, leaving its heart barren, abandoned. Given your past relationships, forming a fresh new ache and vulnerability for yet another person frightens the fuck out of you.

So when you wake up to a Jeon Jungkook beside you, lulled by the quiet sound of his breathing, your heart fizzles in your chest. It’s a no-strings-attached agreement that you two have decided on at the beginning of the year, but it’s still a feeling you can’t quite get accustomed to, especially when the first thing you see in the morning is his peaceful sleeping face, unless he’s spooning you, in which his warm breath will tickle the back of your nape. It’s weird because it feels nice, feels so right.

It's been six months since you two started the whole fuckbuddy agreement, yet you still can't get used to how warm Jungkook is, always so warm, as if the sun has chiselled its way into every single pore of your body, softening and melting your sharp edges. While his body still sends zaps down your spine, your mind registers that you’ve grown to adore the heat of his body when your cold feet always find themselves tangled together with his under the sheets.

He’s not much of a morning person, but sometimes, you’d wake up to him staring at you, caressing every detail of your face with his eyes, sunlight glittering golden in them, and smiling like a fool (an adorable one at that) at your groggy and sleepy self, as though your crusty morning face turns him on because it often leads to the continuation of the previous night’s copulation before scrambling to class.

You know no bounds nor depth with Jeon Jungkook. If anything, you’ve concluded that you’ve never met a person quite like him before, like the cosmos has moved for this concurrence to be possible.

Each new day brings a discovery about your fuckbuddy which keeps you on your toes, but nothing can ever beat the dorky Jungkook who becomes a freak in the sheets as he pounds mercilessly into you or pulls your hair as he buries himself deep inside the hilt of your throat. Nothing beats the feeling of having his warm body pressed up against yours as he whispers sweet nothings that caress and fan against your skin like invisible marks that will always be there, burning from deep within.

You hear Jungkook humming softly from behind you, comfortably settled on your bed while you’re hacking away at your laptop, rushing to finish your paper. You normally can’t work with noise or with another person in the room, but his humming falls quite pleasantly on your ears.

“Bub, you almost done?”

You turn around and spot Jungkook in only a pair of sweatpants, flaunting the ripples of his toned chest and abdomen. You have no idea why he even bothers wearing pants when you both know that he’s going to take off them later.

“Getting a little impatient, Pingu?”

A little pout plays on his lips, “No, it’s just that… You’ve been at it for hours and I’m kind of sleepy.”

“O-Oh, have you been you waiting for me? Why don’t you get ready first?”

“Actually, I thought we could, you know, just sleep tonight,” he smiles sheepishly, the curve of his cheek squished from where he is lying down on his pillow.

“You mean like…?”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

You don’t reply, merely shrugging your shoulders, but the bags under your eyes are an easy giveaway.

“Then hurry finish your work and get your ass here. My arms are kind of lonely here and it’s cold.”

You can’t deny that Jungkook looks so gorgeous, so tempting, waiting for you with that familiar tender gleam in his eyes as he pats down at the empty spot beside him.

“You’re cold? But you’re literally my personal heater,” you laugh, tinges of amusement dancing in your orbs, as you relent, slipping under the sheets beside him.

Chuckling softly, he leans in and ensures that there’s as little space between your bodies as possible from head to toe, until the tip of his nose is brushing against yours. He playfully throws a leg over yours, pressing the strong cleave of his chest up against you and his body heat immediately engulfs you, sated and warm.

You feel like there’s a fire in you, made of soft, satin embers.

You smile, looking up at Jungkook’s pretty visage. Your night lamp casts a dim shadow on his face that insinuates his long, feather-like eyelashes, brushing the bone of his structured cheeks. He holds back smiling like the fool he is, busy drinking in the sight of you and the closeness of you, but that roseate flush that blooms over his face betrays his heart’s desire, spreading across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Pretty.

If stars could take human form, they’d look a lot like Jungkook.

“Want to hear a bed pun that Jin-hyung bombed on us today?”

You hum in response.

“Never mind,” he shrugs, his eyes starting to crinkle up at the corners “It’s kind of sheety.”

“I fucking hate you!” You let out a whole-hearted laugh, doubling over to shove a pillow at Jungkook’s chest, “Don’t know why I put up with your dumb ass.”

“You love my dick!”

And Jungkook is one hundred per cent correct.

He likes to sleep naked, which is something you don’t have a problem with. At least he has the decency to throw on a pair of briefs, but it doesn’t particularly help cover with his morning woods.

You’re about to leave for class, but something uncontrollable and searing stabs at your belly when your eyes land on his taut, golden stomach, the faint line of hair trailing south towards the Calvin Klein imprint and the noticeable boner pressing against it.

As the soft light filters in through your curtains, casting shadows on the gentle slopes of Jungkook's face, a tempting idea pops into your mind and you drop your bag onto the floor, crawling right back into bed.

Jungkook is a guy who adores surprises and you’re someone who likes catering to his interests, though what you adore most is catching him totally off-guard and watching him writhe helplessly under you, for all the times you woke up to him in between your thighs. You find joy in taking care of him as your mouth takes the reigns, slobbery and messy with saliva dribbling down your chin.

Pushing the quilt away off the bed, your eyes take their time to map his body, before your fingers start to trace down the line of hair leading towards his clothed cock. You lean forward to press a kiss to the muscular ridges of his taut abdomen, and then down his happy trail, before slowly mouthing over his bulge and lastly, to his toned, honeyed thighs.

Fuck, you love his thighs – in fact, you've spent too many nights thinking about riding them and keening out loud when he makes your fantasies come true.

His cock springs free when you tug his briefs down and its stiffness almost hits you in the face. He's as rigid as always, tip angry and glossy with arousal and veins prominent in his shaft and you take a few seconds to admire the veins that artistically run up his length like rivers along a woodland. You love his dick, nobody has stroke game like Jungkook and you’ve never been more exhilarated when condoms were thrown out of the picture after you two agreed to be exclusive.

When you wrap your hand around his dick, the soft skin feels like velvet, enticing you to press an open-mouthed kiss to the tip. Body still weighted from sleep, Jungkook's breath involuntarily hitches when you settle in a slow rhythm, hand wrapping around the base of his dick, moving it in tandem with the bobbing of your head.

Slowly, he begins to stir awake at your ministrations, hand bringing up to rub his eyes unconsciously. When he manages to peel his eyes apart and looks down at you through the tops of his eyes, with his dick in your mouth, he groans loudly.

“Morning, Pingu.”

Coyly, you duck your head, running your tongue along the side of Jungkook’s shaft, keeping a firm grip around the base. When you return to the tip, you suckle hard with your lips, lapping over the slit feverishly. You relish the weight of his warm dick in your mouth and it’s when Jungkook starts to pant heavily with eyes rolled all the way back, his muscles straining as he rolls his hips upwards for more that you know you’ve succeeded.

“Fuck,” he knots his fingers through the dark tufts of your hair in pleasure, “I’d kill to wake up to this every day.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day.”

Leaning backwards, you pull Jungkook’s legs up higher and spread open them. You give his ass a little slap before further spreading his asscheeks and he jumps in shock when you spit obscenely into his ass.

Right after you got into the agreement, you two discussed each other’s kinks. You’ve always thought rimming was hot and Jungkook was eager to experiment with you, saying that it’s literally every guy’s dream come true to have his ass eaten out.

Your first lick is a broad strip from his perineum to his entrance, stopping there to suckle lightly at his rim. The contact sends trembles to course throughout Jungkook’s body and he gasps out shamelessly, closing his thighs instinctively and trapping your head between them. When your tongue laps at his tight, little tunnel, pressing little kisses to his rim, he arches his back out of his reaction, eyes clouded with lust.

You can’t help but tighten your fingers around his ass, kneading it greedily as drool and spit drip from the corner of your lips. At this, his mouth falls open in soundless moans, soft whimpers drawn from the back of his throat, muscles rippling beneath his skin.

Jungkook tastes better than you remember, though the only thing you can focus on is how helpless he is writhing underneath you and the protrusion of his arm veins as he clutches the sheets firmly from the interminable sensation.

You see his hand reach out for his dick that's throbbing between his thighs, aching for any kind of friction. The darkness in his eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of your gut.

"Touch yourself and you can say goodbye to coming,” you slap his hand away.

He throws his head in frustration, eyes shut and lips red and parted, "But–"

"Let me help you."

A growl is ready at the back of his throat when you lightly scrape your teeth on his rim, spit dripping down your chin, trailing past his balls and down to your bedsheet. Laundry Senpai would be out for a field day.

While your tongue continues to lick at his rim, back to his balls and then to the very tip of his dick, your right hand finds itself wrapped around the thick girth of his dick, finally giving it some attention. You begin to milk him, stroking him again and again and helping him to chase his orgasm. Perched on either side of your face, Jungkook feels his legs grow weak as you continue to jerk him off, revelling in each wanton sigh and moan that slips from your lips.

Out of pleasure or lack of control, you don’t oppose when his hips start to rut against your face as he chases his high. Instead, you slacken your jaw and lap at his puckered hole faster, prodding at his entrance with the tip of your tongue, knowing that he isn’t going to last much longer.

When Jungkook finally comes, you lap at his cock thirstily, taking in every drop of cum. He looks so fucked out, chest heaving up and down as globs of white cover your lips and chin, but you continue to lick the cum, swirling around his head. You gaze up at Jungkook and sees that lower lip is slightly swollen from where he’d been biting down on it, slightly red, and you desperately yearn to feel the soft and warm skin beneath the pad of your finger.

He pats your hair with a dreamy smile and your heart stutters at the way his eyes crinkle so prettily no matter how gently he’s smiling.

Your room is suspended in a beautiful haze, the morning air sitting like a blanket around you two, alongside the sounds of your breathing.

“Cute,” you whisper, pressing little kisses along the length of his dick.

Heat ruptures across Jungkook’s face, a visible flush radiating on his rounded, apple cheeks, and works its way to the bridge of his nose.

“You did not just call my dick cute,” he raggedly inhales.

“Shit, I gotta run – have class in like,” you ignore his complaint, checking your watch, “Fuck, 20 minutes.”

“Hey, take it back! My dick is not cute,” he puffs, folding his arms.

“Dude, I legit just woke you up with a blowjob and this is the thanks I get.”

“Just kidding…” He smiles sheepishly, taking your hand into his, “So I’ll see you tonight? We’re having dinner at the new Italian place, right?”

“Of course, can’t wait to watch you have an overdose of cheese.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully, but the glint in his eyes screams that he can’t wait.

“Anyways, you better get up – you’re going to be late for your 11am.”

“I’m skipping,” his lips curl up into a smirk and even in his sleepy state, he still knows how to be a brat, “Gotta help Yoongi-hyung with something.”

"You're up to something no good, huh?”

With a sparkle in his eye, he smiles, "That I am."

You chuckle and press your hand against Jungkook’s cheek, fingers brushing against the scar on his cheekbone, intending to pinch his cheek, but he beats you to it and quickly turns his face into the curve of your palm. He then presses a kiss to it, painting his smile against the wrinkles of your skin and your heart ricochets in your chest.

“I—See you, Pingu.”

Another sleepy bunny smile adorns the stretch of his lips, “See you later.”

You don’t realise that you’ve been carrying a smile on your face ever since you left your apartment until your friend Jiyoon breaks you out of your trance by telling you that you look like a clown. Waking up to Jungkook by your side is such a domestic concept and honestly, that should intimidate you. Instead, all you feel is a blooming of butterflies in your stomach.

There are several traits and abilities of Jungkook’s that he prides himself on. He’s intelligent in a lot of ways and in some ways not. He’s socially aware and knows when to be quiet or loud. Yet, he has always assumed an air of detachment and aloofness, making people and sometimes even himself believe that he has an extra layer of skin, invisible and almost impenetrable.

He is, nevertheless, just a little shier with his words and doesn’t open up easily. Even when he does, he still walks on seashells around his closest of friends. He can’t help it – it’s just his nature and who he is. However, people who know him should know that he’s all bark and no bite. He’s much softer than he looks – and his heart is fragile and afraid.

Admittedly, he is a hopeless romantic at heart although the pursuit of pure, unconditional love is found dead in a ditch and he will rather die than admit that he still believes that he’ll hear bells when he crosses path with his soulmate.

Now with you in the picture, he really doesn’t know anymore. It’s unclear how this arrangement started, it��s a nebulous concurrence of fate… alongside the need to fulfil sexual desires with no strings attached.

You two met at a school event through Yoongi, your friend who’s a music production major and also the campus radio DJ, and while the three of you hung out a couple of times, you’ve never really established a friendship with him.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment where it all started – how you fell into each other like this, how you grew to become addicted to the crash of his body against yours, fitting into the little crooks of each other’s life. It worked so well the first time that the second time was kind of a given and soon, both of you came to some sort of unspoken agreement that the next time you come into contact would result in both tangled in bed.

So there isn’t such an exact moment when things unavoidably shifted in your life and trying to find the exact moment that unchained everything would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s just that you can’t quite remember sex feeling so good with anyone else.

Still, you wouldn’t count on him being entirely transparent with you.

He’s still an enigma, never quite settling, and consequently, neither could your so-called agreement. The line has blurred far too much for comprehension. But it’s simply the beautiful contradictions that make Jungkook so Jungkook, someone you may never quite understand, but desperately want to, from somewhere deep in your bones. All you know is that your heart somehow lurches whenever he’s near, that his gaze still makes you shy especially when you’re under him at his mercy, and that re-watching (yet) another Marvel film with him on your bed brings comfort to your heart.

It’s not fair how Jungkook can make you feel like you’re six feet under what you assume must be somewhere between lust and adoration, when he says the dumbest of things like, “96% of guys masturbate.”

“Then what about the other 4%?”

He deadpans with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “The other 4% don’t have hands.”

You throw a pillow at his smug face, but even if he says the dumbest things, you like to listen to the timbre of his voice, how it rolls over the vowels like honey smothering biscuits. You should hate the way he makes you bare your neck so easily, makes you quiver and tremble at the slightest touch, yet your stomach still coils no matter how hard you try to push away the hummingbird heart residing in your chest.

“I don’t know why I even tolerate you.”

“Thanks, love you too.”

Questionable words like these have been thrown around casually, the harrowing weight often settling uneasily in both of your stomachs. Too many unspoken words fill the air and they’ve been lingering in the air for some time now. While it’s undeniable that you two share something, where feelings are mutually understood without having to say much, life isn’t a bed of roses and things will happen when the universe wants them to.

“Noted with thanks.”

Staying over wasn’t initially part of the deal in fear of jeopardising the friendly arrangement, but as time goes by, when sex becomes a daily thing and Jungkook starts coming over more often and later in the night, breaching the fuck buddy etiquette starts to matter less.

The dick appointments are always at your place because he proclaims that he loves your bed and it’s ten folds comfier than his. You can’t seem to fathom why because you find his bed equally comfortable to sleep on and it probably smells much nicer than yours, mixed with the brew of his musky scent and peach shampoo.

Now, almost half of the things in your apartment belong to him including his favourite fabric softener, just because he can. He makes sure that he’s over every Friday at least to do laundry and has even persuaded you to entrust all laundry duties. Friends with benefits etiquette? Not in this household.

You smile at the toothbrush holder, before picking out yours, which has its place next to Jungkook’s red one. It’s just moments like these where you know that he’s undoubtedly carved himself a rightful space in your life like there was a space reserved just for him. Becoming a constant beyond the late-night dick appointments and one of your best friends, someone you text and exchange dank memes with on a daily basis. Someone you trust.

You adapt to him quickly, and he accepts you unconditionally. In an odd way, it’s like he’s always meant to be by your side. It’s like the cosmos knew. And slowly, it’s as if he’s never gone and the mutual fear of overstaying your welcome or the fear of letting yourself get too comfortable with each other has dissipated. Now, it gets harder not to think about how his cologne tends to rub off on you even hours after sex and it gets harder to ignore the mixture of scents that lingers in your room.

Stepping out of the shower, you hum quietly to yourself and see Jungkook engrossed in playing a game on his phone. When you continue to hum, Jungkook drops his phone and stares at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-What are you singing?”

You chuckle, “Whoa, was I that bad?”

His face is a chiaroscuro, the right side illuminated from the lamplight, the left in soft shadow. But there’s something indescribable about his expression that you can’t seem to decipher as he stares at you guardedly.  

“N-No! I’m just ¬– what song is that?”

“It’s Euphoria,” you dismiss him casually, “By GCF. He’s a new Soundcloud singer whom I just discovered the other day. Heard of him before?”

“E-Er, no?”

“What’s with your reaction?”

“N-Nothing! I-It’s a nice song I guess.”

You beam, “Yeah, I think he just started his singing career, but I really like his voice. Makes me feel all soft inside.”

“Soft, huh?” A teasing smirk inches its way onto the edges of Jungkook’s lips, “I thought you only like listening to rap music.”

“Geez, can’t I have a diverse taste in music?”

“No.”

“Bitch,” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, “Remind me to send you some of his music.”

“I-It’s fine… I can just search it up myself.”

You grab your phone, ready to unlock it, “No wait, let me just play his song—”

Whatever you’re about to say is lost when Jungkook reaches for you and cuts you off with a kiss. Heat sinks low in your belly when he catches your lower lip and tugs at it roughly. He rests his hands onto the tapers of your waist, before going south to cup over the curve of your ass, causing you to drop your phone on the bed. A deep spike of pleasure pulses in his abdomen when your eyes widen, a soft sound passing through your lips that only he has the privilege of hearing.

That night, the sex is a little different.

Jungkook roams languid kisses everywhere – your lips, jaw, the column down your throat, clavicles and down the valley of your breasts and you let him trace love notes all over your skin.

It’s a feeling that you two are used to. The sound of his pants being unzipped as he unravels you, your tongue feeling heavy with his. The crescent marks of your nails on Jungkook’s back as he thrusts into you with unbridled ardour, never losing eye contact with you. The breathy praises on your skin till it’s almost scalding, like pure propulsions of energy looping into stellar spaces, burnished suns flaring radiant.

Jungkook coaxes sounds out of your mouth like he’s tugging at your heartstrings, drawing out symphonies and melodies trapped beneath your tongue, until the room echoes with a mixture of curses and moans, until there’s nothing but Jungkook and only him on your mind.

You don’t fall asleep immediately that night.

While Jungkook’s face is tucked into his pillow, lips slightly parted, and breaths calm and soft against your sheets, you comb your fingers through his hair, liking how his locks feel soft like rose petals between your fingers.

When dawn arrives and slowly paints the world a pale rose and the noise of the city is muted outside, you bury your face into the dips of his shoulder blades as your mind continues to swirl, absorbing Jungkook and everything about him. How he smells like the smell of clean linen and peach, a light musk that sits heavy and familiar, how you can’t shake the phantom smell of Jungkook’s cologne on your skin.

In all honesty, it hurts. You’ve never felt this susceptible to someone’s gaze or touch and it fills you with nothing but with further want for him.  

Friends with benefits aren’t meant to be like this. They aren’t supposed to have such tenderness laced into every touch. But the thing is, you’re well aware that you don’t just treat Jungkook as just a fuckbuddy, not when your body reacts to his touches like this, not when static seems to build beneath your bones every time he smiles at you with stars coruscating in his eyes.  

There are times you’ve thought about how maybe, just maybe he feels something different about you, like the way you feel about him, but you’re probably projecting your own feelings onto him, so you dismiss it without further thought.

You could make a home in the hollow of his hold. But for now, you’d just let the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest lull you to sleep.

[you] [16:35] hello are you open for business today [16:36] i would like to make a dick appointment

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:36] hi yes, welcum [16:36] we have a slot from 8pm all the way till 9am the next morning [16:37] we provide dinner too. any preference?

[you] [16:37] i would like some nuggets with a Dick on the side [16:37] mega upsize for the Dick please  

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:37] Large size it is. okie dokies your reservation has been confirmed [16:37] n.e ways, want to hear a joke about my dick? [16:37] nevermind, it’s too long

[you] [16:38] sorry can i cancel my appointment? i don’t remember asking for a lame willy  

Jungkook always delivers and you’re not just talking about nuggets, bubble tea, and his Big Dick on the side. He always delivers, whether it’s his promises or fleeting remarks that you don’t even remember him saying. After months of being physically intimate with him, you learn that Jungkook is everything you thought he would be, and at the same time so much more and it piques your curiosity.

You want to learn more about him, unravel him from inside and out, until you are confidently acquainted with the exact colour of his eyes, the sound of his laughter, and the little antics that just make him so charming and endearingly dorky – everything that makes him Jeon Jungkook.

“Strawberry milk tea for me, 100% sugar because why not, and a green milk tea with pearls, 30% sugar for my lady.”

Static gathers at your fingertips as Jungkook’s fingers brush against yours when he hands you your drink.

You ignore his attempt to flirt, “You remember my order?”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly and regrets immediately, “I-I mean, it’s a simple order… Pretty sure my one braincell can at least remember it.”

Smiling softly, you pull him into an embrace, while he rests his chin on the top of your head, taking advantage of the extra centimetres in height he has on you.

The light coming from your bed lamp allows the brush of his lashes to be shadowed onto the perfectly sculpted apples of his cheeks. From where you’re standing, you swear you can see a little blush making camp on his cheeks and you’re smacked once again with heavy realisation that your fuckbuddy is unbelievably ethereal.

Not that you aren’t already aware of it, but Jungkook staring at you with such bright adoration in his eyes, the light scar etched on his cheek, which screams to be smooched, and the small mole on the side of his neck that has become your favourite spot to kiss, is really something else.

“Fucking date me already, bro,” you mutter under your breath as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

His warm eyes bore imploringly at you and you tense up almost immediately, feeling hot like there is a fire deep in your bones, washing your senses away. The thought of him agreeing to your casual tease crosses your mind as a fleeting thought, but it dies when Jungkook just brushes it off with a chuckle.  

“Only if you pay me.”

“You fucking wish.”

A reciprocal laugh escapes from Jungkook’s lips, but he thinks his heart has just done a pirouette at the sight of your smile.  

“So how was your day?” He whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear even though it doesn’t fall, just because he just likes touching you, because he wants to be near you all the time, ��Hope it was as nice as my ass.”

You scoff, but there’s an amused smile on your face, “I actually don’t know if you’re being truly genuine or sarcastic.”

“Well, it depends on whether you think my ass is nice or not.”

“Hmm… Well, it’s not that nice as Taehyung’s… I’ll give it a 6 or 7.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook gasps out loud dramatically, “Right in front of my salad? Take that back! You’re not allowed to talk about my friend’s ass in front of me.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I… You just can’t! That’s just… the bro code!” He shakes his head furiously and the little pout starts to form on his lips doesn’t escape your notice.

“That literally doesn’t make sense.”

“Bub... Do you really think his ass is better than mine?”

Despite the crude nature of his question, there’s a certain softness laced in his voice. He clutches your palm, his thumb idly gliding up and down the back of your palm so tenderly that it has the tips of your ears warming.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you jealous right now?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Well, I mean Taehyung does have nice fingers too, but I like yours more.”

“O-Oh, okay,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to rub circles into your palm silently.

A laugh leaves your lips as you pad over, “Dumbass. When I say that you have nice fingers, it means that I want them. In me.”

You’re grinning at him and he feels like his heart has grown fists because his sternum feels like it’s being battered.

“Fuck, your mouth is a sin.”

“You love it though,” you whisper sultrily, before placing your hand dangerously near his crotch and then dragging a finger over the length of his cock through his pants.

“Hell yeah I do.”

It’s whispered, barely louder than a breath and it’s more of a confession than Jungkook ever wants to admit.

Leaning in, his breath brushes over your bottom lip as he curls an arm around your neck to pull you closer. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours before he plants a kiss on your lips.

Your lips continue to dance over each other, heart skipping a beat whenever Jungkook sucks on your bottom lip. It’s a soft kiss, but also a hard fall, like plummeting a million miles an hour through time and space to land straight in the middle of heaven, the gates opening to reveal a beautifully blossoming feeling of unparalleled warmth and joy.

Maybe it’s against Jungkook’s better judgement when he presses another chaste kiss to the space between your eyes. Maybe that in itself is a very poor decision, because his feelings suddenly threaten to consume him completely.

Because in the deep tresses of his mind, he thinks he can hear bells ringing.

You can’t breathe, hands fisted in the front of Jungkook’s shirt, dizzy, lightheaded and hot all over. His teeth scrape over your bottom lip, which nearly makes your knees give out, and you barely have time to draw in a ragged breath before he greedily dives into the sensitive part of your neck for more. You tilt your head back, giving him free rein, and grip his bare shoulders so hard that you know it’ll leave red marks on his skin. You strangely like the idea of that.

He begins to nibble the pulse beneath your jaw fervently, eyelashes fluttering against the hinge of your jaw, till he sees a bruise beginning to blossom, his hand sneaking up your skirt. You try to break away from the pursuit of his kisses, but Jungkook is undeterred, planting kisses and nibbles down your jaw and to your breasts, prompting the smouldering lust crackling over your skin to only intensify.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, his eyes rest on your features as you hover over him. Your fingers reach out to grab at the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them so that they pool around his ankles, before taking his dick in your hands.

You’re about to wrap your lips around the head of his cock when Jungkook cuts you off.

“Wait, how do you know that Taehyung’s fingers are nice? Do you stare at them?”

Your actions come to a halt and you let out a loud sigh in annoyance to mask the way your chest fills with so much fondness that it oozes out of every crevice of your body at Jungkook’s confused expression with his big doe eyes.

“Jeon Jungkook, I’m literally about to suck your dick. Does it really matter?”

Something cracks in his demeanour and he snaps after that. You can’t even remember how many times you fuck that night. Right after you suck Jungkook off, he’s hitched you up and pressed you up against the wall and fucked you rough and fast, just the way both of you like it. The second time is slower and less frantic. He’s stripped you of your clothes and thrown you onto the bed and pounded into you, slow and deep, until you’re keening and begging for more.

By the end of the night, you’re sore in so many places, with bruises painted all over your body like an artwork, and Jungkook is knocked out cold next to you, a heavy arm draped across your waist. As you relish in his warmth and weight beside you, the heightened thrum of your pulse continues to be cognisant at the under of your jaw, screaming in the distance.  

Three weeks into discovering GCF’s music, it’s become your life goal to never shut up about him. For someone who is a sworn rap fanatic (which is how you became friends with Yoongi because god, his taste in music is superior and he himself spits fire with no mercy), you’ve strangely become obsessed with GCF’s poignant music and his thematic exploration of love. It’s come to a point where you have every single one of his songs downloaded onto your phone and you visit his Soundcloud page every day without fail to check if he’s uploaded a new track or replied to comments.

There’s just something about his voice that manages to worm its way directly into your chest, where it’s festered into something so captivating that you can’t help but feel a meadowsweet summer warmth clamouring around your heart with giddiness on its heels. His voice has a certain sweetness, a softness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listen to him with your eyes closed.

You’re just a teensy bit butthurt that he hasn’t responded to your comment from last week – your really long and sweet comment about how much you could listen to him sing forever.

It also doesn’t help that Jungkook isn’t supportive of your fangirl antics and he proves it once again with the judgmental look he’s shooting you from your desk, while busying himself with a bowl of cereal at 2am. You’re unsure whether you should be the one judging him but then again, he is Jeon Jungkook after all.

"Why can’t you crush on an idol? You don’t even know how this dude looks like.”

You frown, pressing your lips together, “Stop being a hater. Isn’t that just the beauty of an underground artist?”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook replies with an air of nonchalance, “Okay, but what if he’s a serial killer? Or a 50-year-old creep?”

“Chill dude, he said somewhere that he’s a college kid. That’s why he takes quite long to put out new releases.”

“He said that?”

“I think I read it somewhere in the comments,” you shrug, stealing another mouthful of Jungkook’s cereal just because you can, “Why?”

He ignores your question and snatches back the spoon in faux irritation, “So what else do you know about him?”

You shrug, staring at him a moment longer, “Nothing much, except for the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with someone because his songs are fucking sad and romantic, but you know what? I absolutely dig that aesthetic.”

Jungkook feels like his soul is being looked into, and for a moment there, he genuinely thinks that you’re tricking him into admitting the truth. It scares him to think that he might have been transparent and vulnerable with his feelings. But even if you suspect anything, if you’ve noticed any sort of hints in the way Jungkook acts or the things he says, you don’t show it.

“He is?” He manages to squeak out, eyes glued on his now empty bowl.

“What’s with you questioning everything about him?”

“Nothing… It’s just… this guy seems dodgy. He doesn’t even sing that well. And what does GCF even stand for? Greatest common factor?”

“Oh my god, shut your nerdy trap!” You gasp, mouth agape, “And who are you to say that? You can’t even sing!”

You hit him with your pillow, but Jungkook, being the all-rounded guy he is, deftly catches it with a tight smile, “Remember that time when you tried singing to Justin Bieber – I swear I thought my mirrors were about to shatter!”

This only prompts an eyeroll from him as he’s brought back to the memory of him purposely screeching at the top of his lungs when you blasted Justin Bieber.

He doesn’t like lying to you, but he hasn’t quite decided on how he wanted to break the news to you. Does he simply just confess to you one day about him GCF all along? That all his songs are about you? That the person he’s hopelessly in love with… is you?

He doesn’t know, but he knows that he’s fine with whatever he has with you now. It’s an easy habit, the way you immediately scooch over to your side of the bed to make room for Jungkook. It’s just as much of a habit the way he immediately throws an arm over your waist, sturdy chest against the small of your back and legs entangled for extra heat The cuddle fest resumes, but when Jungkook presses his nose against the exposed skin at the base of your neck and sighs quietly, you realise that something’s off.

“You okay, Pingu?”

“Mmm fine.”

Your eyes are patient, fond, as you turn over to trail your fingers down his face, over the apple of his cheek and the corner of his mouth, brushing gingerly over his lower lip.

“Want to talk about it?”

Closing his eyes, he sighs, “Nah, it’s okay.”

He could not be content with the joyful contemplation of your eyes and your golden heart. Not even for a second could he let this love dwell upon his senses– because he knows he’s going to let you down at the end of the day.

The apartment falls quiet. Within the moment of silence that falls between you two, you think about how you two have shared so many silences, the quiet and steady presence of unwavering and unconditional support – that you no longer feel the need to fill them up with conversation. So you allow yourself to enjoy his sweet presence, the peachy smell of his shampoo, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“What are you thinking about, Pingu?”

There’s a beat of a pause that lingers between you, the gleam in the caramel of his eyes sparkling with something akin to lust as he attacks your neck with a violent raspberry to your neck.

“You.”

Your heart leaps at your throat and you feel warmth simmering under your skin, sitting high on your cheeks.

“What about me?” You ask, skimming your fingertip down Jungkook’s chest.

Shivering slightly at the contact, the smallest of smirks inches into the corner of his mouth, “The number of bad things I want to do to you.”

Your lips curl up, resembling his as you whisper breathily into his ear, “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

“Hmm?”

Your eyes are filled with mirth, a little sinister, mostly playful, inviting him to inch closer and you reach for the crook of his neck, lips coming into contact with his sensitive spot that you’re very familiar with. He moans when he feels the light suck of your teeth and the curve of your evil grin forming against his skin.

“How much I want you to do those bad things to me.”

And Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest, his head spinning at the propinquity, the intimacy of it all, and the love in his chest blossoming and spreading throughout his body.

Jungkook is well aware of the fact that he is indeed an idiot. Him and feelings? An irreconcilable combination. He’s accepted this. While he’s decent in his grades and talented in many areas, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with you. His hands have minds of their own whenever you’re near and his mind goes short-circuit. Especially when he sees you with a dude he doesn’t recognise at the study lounge.

Something heavy and uncomfortable settles in the pit of his stomach at the sight. He’s always been mildly aware that you have a life outside of catering to his every whim, but this is the first time he’s been slapped in the face by the fact.

Squinting his eyes, he realises that you’re sharing your earpiece with the unidentified dude and he becomes super vigilant of your little mannerisms – how your face is lit up as you’re laughing and how your shoulders are brushing against the dude’s too much to his liking.

You’re always smiling when you’re with him. He’s not quite sure he’s seen the expression slip from your face, laced in the curve of your mouth and the crinkles of your eyes. It's another little detail, just one from his burgeoning list of things that he finds attractive about you. He wonders if he could be the only reason for your smile. He wants to be, desperately wants to, but he’s not sure if he’s capable of doing so. And he’s angry at himself for not believing that he can do so. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t tie you down, maybe you’d be better off with some other dude.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so selfish.

But he wants to be. When it comes to you, he wants to be selfish. He feels like he’s in a trance, fallen straight into the web you’ve woven around him, and he can’t get out because something in him turns green.

“Pingu!”

You beam at the boy standing awkwardly across the room, totally forgetting to keep your cool when your eyes land on his outfit. You have to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looks in his usual black button-down and dark jeans, the wide planes of his chest and the strong curves of the muscles in his arms.

When he walks over, his cologne wafts through the air and you have to will yourself not to have any dirty thoughts from how well his button-down stretches across his shoulders.

“Hey babe.”

Jungkook’s eyes zero in on your face, vaguely fleeting to the boy’s beside you, and shoots him a quiet seething glare when his eyes land on the proximity of your shoulders. For a split moment, he looks down at your phone and sees that you’re on GCF’s Soundcloud page – listening to his newest single, “Nothing Like Us” and his heart pummels to his stomach, softening a little.

“Boyfriend?” The guy perks up beside you, wariness evident in his tone.

You gently slap him on the shoulder in laughter, “Oh, we’re not together—”

“Yes, we are. Let’s go, bub.”

“Pin—”

Jungkook doesn’t wait up, grabbing your things and shoving them in your bag like you’re in a mad rush. It’s impossible for him to think straight. His mind has become an unrecognisable labyrinth that he has difficulty navigating, sent into a turmoil.

As he pulls you out of the lounge, fingers firmly intertwined with yours, warmth encapsulates your heart and cheeks, like sunlight melting on your skin in molten gold.

“I texted you,” he begins quietly, focusing on the ground and everywhere, except on your face as you desperately search for his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t see. Was busy doing work with Minhyuk.”

At once, Jungkook’s vision flares red, glinting in the smooth obsidian of his eyes, “Don’t say his name.”

“W-What?”

He doesn’t answer and continues to tug you through the hallway.

“J-Jungkook? Where are we going?”

Realisation hits you when he brings you to an empty classroom – you recognise it as the old classroom that nobody ever uses – and a chill runs down your spine when the sound of the door being locked echoes throughout the room.

He pushes you against the wall, hands perched next to your head and you can't stop staring at his biceps, revelling in the way his arms flex whenever he moves.

“Strip,” he orders sternly, nipping at the lobe of your ear.

“H-Here?”

Jungkook has shared his kinks with you and you’ve never pegged him to be one for classroom sex, though you’ve got to admit that you’re turned on as well at the idea of a desperate, quick fuck in a classroom. Something so raw and visceral about it that sends a hot rush of arousal through you.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he quirks his brow and smirks, reaching to unbuckle his belt.  

“Pingu—”

His lips purse before a chuckle leaves him, breathy sound meeting a restless tongue, as he runs it over his lips, “Did I stutter?”

The glint in his eye is dangerous like he has a primal need to claim. It makes you feel even more like a prey put on display, all weak in the knees for him when he slowly traces the dips and curves of your face – your eyelashes that’s fluttering with every breath, that tiny mole below your right eye, and your rosy pink lips. His eyes continue to trail down to the marks painted all over your neck and he feels a strum of possessiveness and satisfaction swell in his chest, knowing that he’s the rightful artist of such masterpiece.

He unbuttons your shirt and tugs it over your head, almost ripping it in the process but refrains himself from doing so at the thought of you screaming at him afterwards.

He plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lips and your mouths move in perfect synchronisation, practiced and perfect, but still sloppy with desire, a little too loud, a little too heated. There’s a tangible frantic hunger in the way Jungkook kisses you, a desperate need in how his hands roughly clutch at your waist, like he’s trying to steal the air from your lungs.

“All mine,” he whispers, teeth finding the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh. When he tugs at it, it burns an inferno into your chest, imprinting your so deepest desires to the edge of your mind.

“Oh god,” you sob into Jungkook’s mouth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing closer, kissing you through the ache in your jaw, through the ache between your legs.

He doesn’t hesitate to hitch you up and you wind your legs around his waist, sweeping your tongue across his lips. This is far from romance, miles away, but it feels so romantic when it’s this raw and aggressive, tasting so much like teeth and sweat, lips working in precise vigour.

It’s almost impossible to pull away and when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together. You watch Jungkook’s swollen lips glisten with your own saliva alongside the flecks of gold in his eyes and the very sight sends an electrifying heat down to your arousal.

There's something about kissing Jungkook, the mere act of having his chest pressed against yours and arms wrapped around you that feels natural and right, like you’ve been doing this for years.

When you slot one of your thighs between Jungkook’s and rock your hips forward, he takes this time to trail soft kisses down the column of your throat. Your breath catches in your throat when Jungkook sucks at the underside of your jaw, where your pulse is at and lets his lips linger, mouth leaving the warmth of an invisible mark that makes you rightfully his, even if just for a second.

He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, before trailing his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m going to ruin you. Going to fuck your brains out till you can only remember my name.”

His words prompt a gasp to escape your lips and he uses this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, coaxing another moan from you when he explores the inside of your mouth with his tongue and you let him, wanting him to explore every nook and cranny of your cavern.

“Going to fuck you silly, babe. Just the way we like it.”

It’s the deep timbre of his voice, almost a growl, that sends electricity to course through your veins, making you feel so fucking alive. It’s the way Jungkook’s shoulders barricade your leaner frame, which makes you feel so weak in comparison and dots your body with goosebumps, remembering the time he shoved you against the janitor closet and left a lovely bruise on your lower back and reminded you of the sheer force of his hips even days after.

“On your knees.”

And you comply wordlessly, sinking onto your knees as your hands find themselves holding onto his thighs for support.

He’s so fucking hot with the radiant flush on his face, hair sweaty and dripping onto his neck, shirt clinging like an extra layer of skin. Jeans tight around his thighs and oh, he’s saliently hard.

He tugs his jeans down impatiently, which land with a thud, and you watch with fascination as his thick, angry cock springs up and slaps onto his abdomen, precum already pearling at the tip.

“Open up, love,” he commands.

Before you can even touch his cock, he bends down to meet your eyes. Patting your head, he puckers his lips and spits, coating your tongue with his saliva in one sharp shot. You gasp at his sudden action but swallow, wanting to taste your wetness mixed in with his. His tongue twists against yours as he buries his fingers in between the silky strands of your hair, tugging it backwards, leaving you whimpering with desire.

“You like that, baby?” Jungkook whispers against your lips.

You can only moan again, unable to form coherent sentences, especially when he breaks away and slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum there, and then on your tongue before guiding himself to the cavern of your hot mouth.

He curses underneath his breath when you stick out the flat of your tongue to lick around the slit, before kissing the head softly and smearing your lips with his precum.

Desperation peaks hot in the air around you two. This must be what it feels like to be on fire, so consumed by flames of desire. You peak up at him through your eyelashes and you watch as Jungkook’s eyes flash with something so carnal that it makes you want to take his dick deeper. You feel like you might just combust into ashes.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning in a slow rhythm, swiping your tongue out as you savour the bitterness of it and sucking hard. Jungkook’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing at the wet heat of your mouth. Your hands reach forward to cup his balls, massaging them while you continue to suck around his head, eyes peeking upward every so often.

“Going to fuck your throat now, babe. Open wider for me, okay?”

You hum in response, before pulling away from his dick and return to slide back down again till you feel it hit the back of your throat. Jungkook reaches down and threads his fingers into your hair, right down to the base of your scalp. When he pulls tight, your lashes flutter, a breathy noise that sounds a lot like a moan spilling out of your swollen lips.

Jungkook pulls out slightly and you know what’s about to come. Using your mouth with no regards, he incessantly shoves his cock down your throat, satisfied by the disgusting gurgling sounds coming out of you. Your affirmation reeks of desperation, rolling out in ecstatic waves and ripples.

His mind is growing hazy, the sharpness dulling and the only thing he can think about is how good you feel around him. Fuck, no one chokes and slobbers on cock the way you do.

His hips continue to jerk faster desperately, catching and sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, until his dick is buried warmly and snuggly at the back of your throat and the curved point of your nose is pressed against his pubic hair. In his mind, he thinks your mouth looks so fucking pretty stuffed with his cock.

You gag once again, tears forming at the edge of your tears, and it sparks something in Jungkook’s stomach. He wants to take you into bed, eat you out for hours and makes you orgasm till your vision goes black, till you know nothing but him and only him. But you’re not in your room and in fact in an abandoned classroom and as much as he wants to please you, he knows that the table isn’t the most comfortable. With that, he yanks you off him, which comes with a light ‘pop’ and a thread of drivel stretches from your lower lip to the crown of his shaft. You whimper at the loss of his dick, tears trickling down the high flush on your cheeks, and even then, he still thinks you look the prettiest.

Jungkook can barely get his fingers around himself, stroking once, twice, before he comes in thick spurts across your lips and chin.

Reaching behind, he gets a handful of your ass and easily hoists you up on top of the teacher’s desk. There’s a slap to the junction between your ass and your left thigh, the meaty flesh reddening and as much as it hurts, you love it when he’s rough with you. 

For a second, the world is black and then your shirts are tossed on the floor after much pulling and tugging, your bare chest heaving as you try to retrieve the breath that Jungkook seems to have stolen straight from your lungs.

He’s got you lying flat on the teacher’s desk before him, your skirt and underwear hanging carelessly around one of your ankles. His thumb darts right over your nipple, before he drags his tongue over it, sucking on it lightly and circling around it while he kneads the other with his palm and tweaks the bud between his knuckles. But what really sets you off is when he grinds the solid girth of his cock over your glistening centre teasingly. 

“Please don’t tease...” 

As your thighs engulf around him, he leans forward, letting his nose nuzzle at the apex of your cunt, where the scent of your sex is so strong.

You can’t see the lower of his face or mouth, only his nose and tendrils of hair stuck on his forehead, but you can definitely it as his tongue circles around your clit, trailing a fat stripe up your folds playfully and sucking at your wetness. A string of curses fall from your mouth, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen, and a sense of satisfaction hits him square in the chest when he hears his own name in the mix.

He relishes in the shaky gasp he coaxes out of you again when his teeth scrape lightly against the nub before the pearl a harsh suck. There’s nothing sweet or soft about the way he’s eating you out, but that doesn’t stop you from squeezing your thighs in between his head.

It’s a tidal wave, causing even more wetness to pool between your thighs when you feel a finger teasing at your entrance. He rubs you a few times more before easing the digit in, while his tongue continues to flick at your clit lazily as you throw your head back, hitting the desk lightly in the process but it feels so fucking euphoric. His finger is thick, so fucking long and thick and your tightness gladly invites the chafe of his finger, relishing in the way he makes you feel so full. 

“Fuck yeah, so good,” your fingers find themselves tugging in the tufts of his hair, weaving through his hair to push him closer to where you want him to be. Every stroke of his finger sends your cunt into a hot ocean of fuzziness and when he presses his nose flat against your mound, your hips rise off the table, a rampant fire fusing in your abdomen. Your brain is fogged with nothing but utter desire to have his dick right inside you. He doesn’t let up, inserting another finger, curling them against your wall and proceeding to fuck you raw, fast and rough.

“You’re so needy,” he smirks at how pliant you are, how much you crave for him.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke and he pulls out before you can come. You don’t even have time to protest when he grabs his dick and gives it a few pumps, before lining himself in front of your cunt.

The velvet tip first circles around your clit, the feeling sending bolts of sparks through your abdomen and there’s a deep rumble that falls past Jungkook’s lips when he finally pushes his head into your cunt that makes you immediately clench around his shaft, bringing the inklings of stars behind his eyes.

He restrains himself for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn before you wriggle your hips the slightest bit and he knows it’s okay to continue. And then without warning, Jungkook rocks his hips forward, causing you to gag out loud, as his hips continue to roll up, drowning you in a white-hot heat. You keen shamelessly, loving the thickness and girth buried inside you to the hilt.

“Can’t believe the tightest pussy is mine.”

He wants to close his eyes and lose himself in this in the heat of your bodies, but he doesn’t want to look away. There's a shine on your cheeks and the expression on your face is caught in a euphoric bliss that Jungkook feels electric in his blood, the air between you two charged and alive.

“All mine.”

It’s been months since the two of you started this – this downward spiral into a mess of feelings that could never quite be spoken out loud, but understood nonetheless. But sex is always so good and you two are always so needy, so desperate, like you could never get enough of each other. And after all these months you’re supposed to be used to his thickness, you’re supposed to be used to the way his cock buries way too deep inside you, but you always feel like it’s the first time – your every nerve ending is alive and electric beneath your skin, receptive to each of Jungkook’s touches and sounds.

You can feel every drag of Jungkook’s cock inside you, every curve and line sliding against your walls, hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has left you babbling nonsense and drool dripping down your chin.

“Whose cunt is this?” His voice is dangerously gentle, but he’s looking into your eyes with eyes that are hooded and sharp by blazed arousal, the usual comets in them diminished and hidden behind the otherwise darkness of his irises, framed prettily by wispy lashes.

Your teeth sink down on the flesh of your bottom lip, red and bloodied in your attempt to somehow distract you from the overbearing stretch his cock tugs at your walls.

“Y-Yours!”

“Whose?” A low groan rumbles from deep in his throat, the sound bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

He knows how to pry everything from you. How to get you to scream, shake from pleasure, how to get you to claw at his back like an animal and you love that about him.

“Yours, Jungkook. All yours.”

Finally, desire ricochets through his abdomen and the last tendrils of his noisy thoughts drift away, leaving him floating, the only sensation he knows at that moment is pleasure and the feeling of being inside you. He’s so out of breath when you rake angry red lines down his back in return, but he doesn’t mind. 

He wants all the scratches and bruises from you. He wants it all and he wants it hard.

Propping himself on his forearms so they frame your face, he brings up his foot to rest on the table leverage and pushes two fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck my fingers, yeah? You’re doing so good for me, bub. So good.”

You don’t protest, almost submissive under him, eyes obsidian and clouded with lust, sucking his fingers and revelling in the weight and fit of them in your mouth

At the crude sight of you, Jungkook pulls out of your cunt almost all the way, before slamming back into you with sickening precision, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge to act on his feelings and give you the best fuck you’d ever have. A choked moan is drawn from both of you as his length drags against your walls, hitting a spot deep inside you that has your back arching off the table, keening shamelessly as wet squelches and constant snapping of your skins resound the room.

He continues to pound harder into you, driving you into a delirious, babbling mess. Perhaps it’s the angle, but the way his hips snap into you, ploughing into that same sensitive spot over and over and over again, has you clutching desperately at his nape for stability.

You look so good like this. So soft beneath him. So close to him with your pretty tits snug against his chest that it feels like your heartbeats are in sync, falling into an echo of one beat together.

The desk whines under the weight and motion, but he continues pounding into you, bodies rocking to meet each other. Each rock of his hips sends you closer over the edge, the tip of his girth hitting just the cushion of your cervix, bodies rocking to meet each other.

His head dips, capturing your nipple and suckling gently before he nips at it, taking it between his teeth and pulling gently. The moan that tears from your throat is more than desperate and needy as he continues to grab onto your breast for support. 

Having been your sexual partner for months, he knows when it’s getting too much for you. He can tell by the way your eyes quiver and start to roll back and his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours as a way to help you relax as he rocks you through your orgasm, toned thighs and balls hitting against the backs of yours.

“Fuck, give it to me Jungkook. Please!”

A fizzle akin to a firecracker trails down to your legs and you fall back onto your elbow, your other hand firmly interlocked with Jungkook’s as he hike your leg over his shoulder and fucks you with the same vigour, feeling the weight of his cock inside you and his balls, heavy and full slapping against you. You keen at the new angle, feeling so full of him, and when you come, your entire body shakes and Jungkook holds you through it all, whispering love notes into your hair, against the shell of your ear, thumb tracing circles on your hip, soothing and reassuring.

He soon follows, spilling spurts of his warm cum inside you, harder than he ever has, your warmth a comfortable stroke to the ridges of his dick. For a few seconds, all he sees is the murky red of the inside of his eyelids. You’re still pulsing around him, clamping his dick with your warm walls, breath like staccato in your throat while he sucks at your neck, both instinctually trying to stake a claim for the best fuck ever.

The silence between you two is refreshing as you take a moment to catch your breaths.

Jungkook watches as your chest heaves with each breath, looking properly wrecked with a glazed look in your eyes. When he pulls out of you from oversensitivity, his eyes are fixated on his cum that’s dribbling out of you and he registers that nothing could be more enticing and beautiful than seeing your rosy pink pussy swollen and painted with his seed. He wants to come inside you all day. It boggles his mind, how close and intimate he yearns to be with you, how he has surrendered his heart to you on a silver platter.

He raises a hand to your neck, fingers brushing lightly on the florid bruises, his touch soft and longing.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers in a saccharine tone, corners of his pretty lips curving upwards into a grin, “All for me.”

You blush fervently at the sudden change in demeanour, still reeling from all the feelings coursing through you. Jungkook’s back to being the soft, doe-eye bean that you adore.

“And you’re like a dog. So fluffy.”

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips pout out like a fish.

Shoving your hand away, he scrunches up his nose and breaks into a blinding smile, the warmth spreading down to his toes, “Can’t believe you’re calling me a dog after I just had my dick in you. Way to ruin the mood.”

“Can’t believe you dragged me into a classroom because you got jealous.”

The flush on Jungkook’s face only darkens and he’s forced into quiet submission, shaking his head and muttering a quiet fuck you, but he doesn’t deny it.

“Wear this, your shirt looks ruined.”

Jungkook hands his sweater over and you take it gratefully, pulling it on, and for a moment, you let himself take a deep breath, the spell-binding musk of his cologne making you feel warm and safe. You find yourself slipping again into that safe, content state that you always feel whenever you’re with him. And just like this, you’re back to falling into Jungkook and the galaxies collapsed into the coracles of his eyes.

“So, when are you planning on telling her?”

Jungkook hates how straightforward Yoongi is sometimes with no patience for bullshit.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping low.

“Kid, you know you can’t hide this from her forever. It would be easier if she wasn’t a fan, but she’s obsessed with you and your other alias.”

“I didn’t think she was going to find me… All I wanted was to post my music somewhere. I didn’t think this far.”

“Kook, she’s in love with GCF, your songs, your lyrics – I think she deserves to know.”

Jungkook shakes his head profusely, “It’s not that easy, hyung. When she finds out that all the songs are about her, I’m fucked.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“I just… When she finds out that I’m hopelessly in love with her, she’s going to hate me and whatever we have is going to be ruined.”

Yoongi shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling, praying to god for strength to pull through. He doesn’t know how to deal with his idiot friend and his equally idiot of a crush. It’s pretty common knowledge that Jungkook has a crush on you – if his intense aflame yearning for you could even be labelled as a crush – so big that he has dedicated his entire underground singing career to you in secret. But it’s also common knowledge that Jungkook is dumb – living in his own little bubble with his deteriorating one braincell.

“You think too lowly of yourself, kid.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, distracted by the notification that flashes on his phone.

[you] [14:56] listen to this!!! i love his cover

His heart falls. He is confused. He is beyond confused – he is conflicted, stupefied, disoriented and madly disturbed and even that is an understatement. He feels like he’s falling like a feeble autumn leaf from the gust of wind into a bottomless pit.

Drowning in a whirlpool of emotions he doesn’t even know he had the capability of feeling.

A smothered voice at the back of his mind starts to question your relationship. You two have shared so many words, so many late nights spent talking to each other even when you’re too tired to keep your eyes open, so many afternoons spent laughing over one braincell moments and food and so many instances unravelling each other physically and emotionally.  

He truly questions himself – whether the weightless impossibility that he feels around you could be love. He’s never been in love, like really what is love? What’s the difference between liking and loving someone? Each emotion feels so vivid, from the calm to the happy to the quiet.

He’s not sure if he loves you, or he’s in love with you, but sometimes he thinks that he could be, when he feels the lingering sweetness of your heart on his tongue, tastes the heavy redness of want beneath your teeth, and yearns for the softness of your body when he’s in class.

You’re a faraway planet and Jungkook wishes to settle his arms into their orbit around you.

Still, he wouldn’t risk something so delicately special for a thought that comes and goes fleetingly, in stolen pockets of time when the sky shifts from muted geranium to deep violet.

Even if it is love he has for you, even if this love could be made for movie screens, Jungkook knows that it’ll leave both parties broken. He knows that you deserve better, more than a guy who secretly writes songs about you because he doesn’t have the courage to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his ears whenever his eyes land on you.

It doesn’t take a lot for you to realise that Jungkook has resided back into his shell. He’s been avoiding you for the last week and you kind of hate it when he gets like this, closed-off and hard to reach.

The thing about your relationship with Jungkook is that it’s a big nebula. While the two of you fuck around on a daily basis with supposedly no strings attached, Jungkook has also become one of your best friends.

As mischievous as he is charming, endearingly shy and heartbreakingly sweet, he’s just really nice to be with and it makes you falter, knowing how unconditionally Jungkook cares for you and vice versa. When you need someone to talk to, you often find yourself calling him, in which he’ll have no qualms about coming over, even at three in the morning.

This time, you fight the urge to call Jungkook again. The heavy want to hear his sweet, calming voice before you fall asleep is strictly romance territory, and you’re definitely not together with him, but you want to tell him about your day. The new movies you’ve watched, the songs that you’ve discovered, GCF’s new track that reminds you of him. You’ve been sending song recommendations to Jungkook. You want to share all the music you love with him, because they all remind you of him, because all the songs are about love, because they are all about how you feel for him.

But after much radio silence, you’re beginning to wonder if he even gives a shit about you. Deep down, you know that he does – he’s always been treating you a little differently, like you’re someone he holds dear to his heart. At least, when you’re together, just the two of you like this, he makes you feel as if you’re someone special and dear to him. And when another track of GCF plays in the background, you wonder: how nice would it be, if the lyrics reflect how Jungkook feels about you. Maybe this is how galaxies come into a pleasant, mutual collision.

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:34] you asleep?

You stare blankly at your phone, your instinct to pick it up and answer him immediately battles with the pettier side of yourself wanting to ignore him. The thought crosses your mind for only a second or two before you dismiss it.

[you] [2:35] nope

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:35] can i come over?

[you] [2:36] okie [2:36] i’ll leave the door unlocked for you

As the night transitions into a lighter grey and warmth sinks deep into their skin, Jungkook thinks that you look prettiest like this, sprawled across the mussed up sheets of your bed with the soft moonlight that makes the lilacs around your neck and chest gleam in gold.

“You’re staring,” you accuse, but your eyes crinkle up at the corners.

There’s a momentary hesitation flicker in Jungkook’s eyes and you part your mouth, ready to tease him even further, but your heart gets caught in your throat when he replies.

“How could I not?” He presses you closer to him, making sure there’s as little space between your bodies as he can possibly manage, “I could look at you all day.”

Everything feels a little hazier, a little gentler, a little warmer all at once and it’s not just due to the heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. It’s also due to the stars in Jungkook’s eyes that come to live, smiling at you with their pristine pearly teeth.

He’s always tender after sex – all soft touches and tender words. It’s always a fight between warm and soft and hot and hard when it comes to Jungkook. And it’s exactly this clashing dichotomy that makes you so attracted to him and the low voice coming from those lips that glisten with a pretty, rosy swell.

“Bub,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

He rests his hand in the dip of your side, fingertips gliding along the grooves of your ribs and raising goosebumps on your skin, as if his small touches are signals that he wants you within his reach, scared that you’ll leave.

“Yeah?”

His tone slips into something softer, “Can you… Can you smile for me?”

“What?”

You turn to look at him with a questioning look, but you’re greeted by the undeniable loneliness that overwhelms the monsoon of his obsidian eyes.

“Smile for me, bub.”

Your eyes narrow at his weird request, but eventually relent anyways, breaking into a soft smile as you run your fingers through his locks out of habit.

Jungkook feels his heart soar to an enchanting level of complete and utter rapture at the sight, feeling as light as he does heavy.

Upon his conflicted expression, the tilt of your lips fades into something more serious, “You okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just been a little off these few days. I kinda miss the old Pingu.”

“Sorry… I’m just stressed.”

“About?”

There’s a heavy silence in the moments following your question, hanging between you two.

Jungkook wants to tell you. That he’s currently putting up a full album with the help of Yoongi. He wants to tell you everything, confess to you that all his songs are about you, and he knew he was fucked when you found out about GCF because he never thought that his songs would reach you.

“About school stuff… Nothing important.”

Lies.

You could sense that he’s been wanting to tell you something for the longest time and you’re about to pursue it further, but upon seeing the hard rock expression on his face, you know better than to probe. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

“Okay,” you whisper back, so quietly it would have vanished in the wind and the distant noise of the city, “You have all my support, you know that right?”

Jungkook feels his skin tingle, especially when you slot your head into the crook of his neck, lips resting lightly against his pulse.

“I—” He opens his mouth, “Yeah I know.”

There’s a sheen in your eyes before the air leaves your body in a rush. You lift your hand to brush your fingers against Jungkook’s lips, before shuffling forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his right eye. You linger, breathing like a fresh spring against his face, and then pull back.

As your hands find the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt, you run your fingers over the buttons, curling into him and delicately ghosting over his skin that you yearn to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue, mark with your teeth and bruise with your nails.

He strokes up and down your side rhythmically, but doesn’t seem to have any motive behind the touch, so you let him despite the goosebumps forming on your skin and the zap of electricity that runs down your spine.

You stay like this for a long while. It feels right, somehow, like this is the universe's plan for you two. Soon, you fall asleep to the rise and fall of his chest, to his steady breaths, to his fingers intertwined with yours. And you know that when you wake up, Jungkook will be here right beside you, like always.

“You two are so domesticated, you know that right?”

You purse your lips at Jiyoon, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“You act like a couple,” she says matter-of-factly and continues at your dumbfounded expression, “Have you seen the way you two act around each other? You might think you’re just fuckbuddies, but dude… anyone can see that you two are fucking whipped for each other.”

You’re not oblivious. You know for one that you’re someone who will go all in on someone, give your 100 fucking per cent and have your heart dangling out on your sleeve just for the taking. You know what it means when your heart jackhammers whenever Jungkook smiles at you with the warmth of a summer day curved in it and when you get a little weak in the knees from his touch. You know what it means when your room smells a little different – when your mind only registers Jungkook’s smell and nobody else’s.

And you know what it means when Jungkook is the only who can affect you like this and he’s the only person who’s ever affected you like this.

The little instances of watching Netflix with Jungkook and doing homework together before fucking till the wee hours of the night – and just simply being together – have stuck with you as kind of romantic and domestic. He’d drop by your apartment at random times of the day, sometimes even before you’re back, already rummaging through your fridge, and you’d just shake your head at his barbarian behaviour and order takeout. These are few and far in between, but they’ve given you a glimpse of what things could be like.

With Jiyoon’s words settling heavily at the back of your mind, a tangle of what ifs and what could bes, you call Jungkook over that night and ask him to fuck you like he means it. You don’t miss the number of times he hesitates to ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t upon seeing your distressed face.

Your relationship with him, without actually having any resemblance of a relationship, is really starting to worry you. You don’t know what Jungkook’s thinking – you’ve never really known what thoughts rush through the waterfall in his mind, but he’s always doing these pseudo-romantic gestures that probably don’t mean anything and it’s scaring you. The way your body reacts to even the slightest touch from him is absolutely terrifying.

The way your body wants and it continues to want – it yearns to be intimately connected with him. Because your mind knows that nothing can ever top the feeling of him being inside you, especially when he eases two of fingers inside of you, sinking all the way down to the knuckles.

A shiver traverses your figure when he pulls out slightly, only to piston his fingers into you again mercilessly at your g-spot. But before he can sink you onto his dick, your stomach growls, as if announcing to the entire world that it has been waiting forever for this exact moment.

“Bub, you hungry?” He bites softly at your earlobe, chuckling lightly.  

“N-No—”

He stares at you with the celestials in his eyes and you know that he’s not simply asking for the sake of doing so, “What do you want to eat? I think we still have ramen left.”

Your heart skips at how he refers to the two of you as we. Technically, he’s not wrong, considering how he’s been getting the groceries for your apartment that don’t just include cereal and milk.

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath laboured and potent with lust. Beyond that, you see utter fondness in each of his little starry friends.  

“You’re seriously asking me what I want to eat when you have your fingers in my vagina? Jeon Jungkook, you are one rare breed.”

He scoffs, planting a kiss on your forehead, and when he pushes himself off the bed, you know that he’s abandoning whatever intention he has of getting off to make a run for the kitchen, “I’m just me.”

And right at this exact moment, you’re utterly defenceless to the slaughter that your heart endures.

“Yeah,” you mumble, gazing at the back of his adorable, round head, your words lingering in the heavy air, “You’re you.”

It’s been ages since you went over to Jungkook’s apartment and you thought it’d be nice to drop him a surprise visit since he hasn’t been coming over. He’s always kept an extra key under his rug (hashtag just Jungkook things) and you’ve conveniently let yourself in, knowing that he’s probably at home because he has Wednesdays off.

Upon entering his apartment, you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice wafting through the walls. You feel like you know the voice by heart. That voice… GCF?

Strange. While you’re an avid fan of the underground Soundcloud singer, you don’t recognise the song and you wonder if he has a new release that you don’t know about. You make a mental reminder to check out his Soundcloud page afterwards.  

“Pingu?” You call out, saunter towards his room that’s left slightly ajar. Easing the door open, you pop your head in and the sight hits you with a pang, drowning your heart in your chest.

“Jungkook…?”

At the sudden voice, the boy twists his head around almost immediately and shock crosses his face, his mouth dropping open slightly when he sees you standing at the door. He didn’t hear you calling for him and he sure didn’t expect you to show up at his apartment.

You stare blankly at his studio – equipment neatly spread across on his desk with a mic stand lowered to his face. You can vaguely make out the different equipment, having frequented Yoongi’s studio. Your eyes slowly shift to the rest of his room – his album covers pasted on his walls come into view and your chest tightens with a disconsolate, stifling feeling. His room looks so foreign as compared to the last time you were over.

How long has he been hiding this from you?

"You—you are…"

The sight of Jungkook’s face of shock (or is it guilt?) punches you straight in the gut. It's like the world's come down to the two of you again, just the two of you, at this moment.

“Bub…” He mumbles, finally finding his voice even though it's hard, especially with you staring at him straight in the face.

Suddenly, he’s hyper-aware of the deafening thud of his heartbeat, how his lungs seem to rattle behind his ribs and the unnerving churning in his stomach.

"That explains everything. Oh my god,” you gasp, “Oh my fucking god."

"I—"

You blink a couple of times, looking down at the floor before you slowly lift your eyes back to Jungkook’s again. You hold each other’s gaze for a few quiet seconds and he watches, almost in slow motion, how your lips part to his impending doom, hurt evident in your tone.

"You mean all this while, the Soundcloud singer that I’ve been gushing to you about was… you all along?"

He breaks his gaze from your face and mutters under his breath, “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Were you…” you mumble, voice tight, "Were you even planning to tell me at all?"

“Bub…”

"Yes or no?"

He casts his eyes to the ground, chin dropping to his chest, and remains silent.

The quiet plagues the room with heavy stagnancy, swallowing your bodies whole and caging them with its wings. Jungkook shuffles his feet in his seat, thinking about what he got himself into and sighs deeply.

"You wanted to continue to lie to me?"

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” he says, the words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, like the honey that trickled into his lungs from recording earlier has all hardened.

“So you wanted to, huh?” You close your jaw, the familiar stiff creaking adjusted to a sharp snap and you shut your eyes.

Jungkook’s chest rises with a shaky exhale, “I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

“All this time when I was talking about GCF and recommending his songs to you, I was actually talking about you? And you just let me?”

“It’s not like that, I—”

“Jungkook,” you exhale, a tremor laced in your words, “You know… You never want me to know anything about you. I tried so hard to get you to open up and I thought that maybe you’ve finally let me in. Maybe because I’m special to you. But I was wrong this whole time. You don’t trust me. You never did.”

There’s a crack in Jungkook’s armour. Something flickers across his features that look a lot like hurt and he begins to frown, brows pulling taut at the centre, “Maybe you pushed me too much! Why do I need to tell you everything? We’re not even together for fuck’s sake.”

Every syllable from Jungkook’s mouth sends a wave of searing coldness down your spine and echoes throughout the apartment. He closes his mouth instantly, regretting his brash words, and even more at the vacant expression on your face.

For moments and moments, the world seems to hang on a thin gossamer thread, suspended in static.

“Right,” you mutter dejectedly with a shattered expression, mouth parted and chest expanded with a breath that you haven’t let go of, “You’re right. We’re not.”

“I—”

“This was a mistake. Right from the very beginning. Don’t know why I tried. I should have known…”

The words ring in Jungkook’s ears before it's even properly out of your mouth.

“Known what?”

You shoot a glare at him and you hope that he can see the newfound contempt that you have for him blazing in your eyes. Your throat suddenly starts to ache, a ghost of tears already running down the breadth of your oesophagus, setting your entire body on fire.

“That you wouldn’t let me in. That you wouldn’t want my heart if I handed it to you on a silver platter. That I’m fucking stupid for thinking that you’ll actually like me back.”

“Wha—”

You don’t hear him out, turning on your heels. Maybe this is why he doesn’t like you coming over. Maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding you.

When you go to sleep alone that night, every single limb of yours feels heavy with exhaustion, aching with agony. Jungkook’s scent lingers stronger in your pillows and sheets, your mind only registering his scent and nobody else’s, and suddenly your bed feels a little too big, a little too empty.

"I’m not going to say I told you so, but I fucking told you so.”

Yoongi comes stomping into Jungkook’s room in a blaze of anger and indignation, lips pulled back in a snarl and eyes narrowed into slits.

Jungkook flinches at his tone, but looks up from his laptop like nothing's wrong. Nothing’s wrong, besides the headache pulsing between his temples and the fact that he has fucked things up with you beyond repair.

"She called me yesterday. Started crying on the phone.”

“She cried?” Jungkook winces, heart plummeting to the lowest pit of his stomach.  

“Yeah.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath, not knowing what else to say.

"You know, to be very honest, you guys make it seem like the world is ending."

"What—"

"It’s not that deep, you know? You write songs for her, she loves listening to them. You’re both in love with each other.”

"We’re not—"

"Don't give me that shit," Yoongi snaps, "You can keep denying, Kook. But I can tell from the way you look at her. The way you act when she’s around. It’s my first time seeing you like this… You’ve never acted like this with anyone.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, holds it, then exhales through his nose. Around him, everything is silent and still.

"And I think you very much know why you hid it from her in the first place.”

"I don’t.”

"You do."

Yoongi’s frown deepens, creasing the smooth skin between his eyebrows, "You’re scared that she’ll get disappointed knowing that you’re GCF all along. The guy who writes beautiful, romantic lyrics, the guy who sings his heart out. You’re scared that you’re not what she hoped you to be.”

Jungkook remains silent.

“But you know what’s ironic here? She’s in love with you. And she’ll love you even more when she realises that you’ve been writing songs about her. All for her.”

Loss comes entangled in love; insisting its way into little spaces in between skin and bone, and once inside, it seals the door and never leaves. It builds a home.

You should have known.

Stringless sex is easy until someone catches feelings – and what’s supposed to be casual and simple turns into something messy. You should have known that you were fucked from the get-go. The two of you have been warm bodies, seeking each other out after long nights and hard weeks, skin to skin, nothing but terrifying and intense, but so, so wonderful.

You should have known that someone like Jeon Jungkook would come whirling into your life, thrashing and maddening like the storm he is, would come sweeping you entirely off your feet, in his own little endearing Jungkook ways.

Endearing. Everything he does is endearing. Weirdly endearing, but still so, so endearing.

He’s the boy who eats cereal at 2am just because he’s hungry, the same dork who barges into your apartment at random times of the day to sleep on your bed and help you with your laundry, the boy who often drops his rice grains on his clothes and doesn’t hesitate to pick them up before shoving them back into his mouth. The boy who snacks on canned tuna directly from the can.

You shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve fallen for him. He’s always been there, ready to take your heart and it makes it so easy – too easy. Falling in love with him and having your heart torn apart by him is nothing like you’ve ever experienced, but it is so easy, like the first snowflake during winter, so light, so at peace, like destiny.  

Your heart soars through the clouds as you let the feeling complete you. It’s as if every inch of your body has been set aflame, but you strangely feel safe, letting yourself drown with his heart that pumps liquid gold through his veins.

Now the memories come flooding through your apartment floors like a movie scene. You think about his small mannerisms, the way he always listens to you, even when he doesn’t give two shits about the topic or looks disinterested, but he’s always listening quietly, and how he always seems to take care of the people around him in his own quiet ways. He cares and loves so fiercely and deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Getting used to Jungkook not being in your life proves to be way harder than it seems. You find yourself with tons of dead, empty hours that feel way too long and insufferable. It’s not the sex you miss, it’s more of the mere presence of him, his smile, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. It’s the way his chest would rise and fall peacefully beside you, the way he’d share his favourite songs and movies with you, something you’d only convinced him to start doing recently, and the way he would banter with you over the dumbest of things and then make it up to you later on.

No matter how much you tell yourself that you’re upset at him, it doesn’t stop you from getting your hopes up every time your phone buzzes, only to be disappointed when it’s everyone but the boy you yearn to see. If only you could get some closure, but you can’t even bring yourself to initiate a conversation because there’s really nothing to say. It’s impossible to ask for an explanation, because you two were never anything. There was no us, regardless of whatever your heart has fooled you into believing.

Yet, your heart knows one thing: you’ve fallen in love with Jungkook in the quietest and gentlest of ways, almost as gently as the way he strokes your palm with his thumb, as gently as the way he looks at you, so impossibly fond it makes hope flourish in your veins.

And when your phone buzzes that night, you realise that your heart has always been right.

[googie ☁️🍞] [23:48] hey bub i know you probably don’t want to talk to me [23:48] but i’m having my first public performance as GCF this sat and i hope you can come [23:50] i missed you. a lot. you have no idea [23:51] i’m sorry for everything [23:53] really sorry

It takes every ounce of courage in you to leave your apartment that day for the campus music festival. Acts from the various school clubs and student artists are invited to perform, but the highlight of the evening would be the official debut performance of GCF. You’ve even heard that there would be media present to report on it.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. He’s probably dying inside, never one for crowds and unwanted attention and you wonder what made him decide to reveal himself. Could it be because of you?

When it’s finally time for GCF’s appearance, Jungkook’s blood fizzles with the sheer energy exuding from every corner of the pit. He glances at the crowd and finds himself dying a little more inside at the sheer amount of people gawking at him, anticipating him, including you, who’s stood rooted to the ground amidst the roaring sea of people.

He finds himself doing a double-take, heart caught in his throat like he’s not quite sure what’s in front of him is real, because there you are, looking as pretty as ever, staring right at him, your eyes slowly widening when you realise that he’s staring right back at you.

When he locks eyes with you, fizzy warmth fills you like a flooded street, a devastating kind that crashes right through you and throws you off-guard. He manages a smile, but his lips have a nervous, crooked curve to them and you watch him tug at the hem of his shirt anxiously.

There’s a love song written for you coursing somewhere through Jungkook’s blood and he breaks into a passionate belt when you offer him a soft smile.

His heart sinks once again. He probably should not be thinking about kissing the pretty curve of your lips when he’s supposed to sing and he fears that he’ll forget his lyrics because you’re here. Right in front of him, waiting for him to spill his heart out.

You’re here.

And that’s all that matters.

You realise that you’ve been holding yourself together by a thin thread and it snaps the moment Jungkook sings to you, for you. He always has this funny way of making you feel so special, looking at you like you’re the only person to exist, even now, when you’re surrounded by an entire crowd. As you listen intently to the lyrics, painful vines start to curl around your throat and thorns prickle over your skin. 

He continues to sing, the air around you two like running pages, his voice capturing you in a daze. He has reigned in the flitter-flutter heartbeats, blowtorched the butterflies in his stomach until there’s nothing but ash left in his chest and it kind of hurts, but right now, he’s going to sing, because this is how he is going to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his chest.

The sky is painted with a violet flush hovering above the moon and the streets are quiet and aglow, pools of orange-yellow light being emitted from the lamp posts, distant sounds of the distant city echoing in the air. Everything around you is suspended in radiant city fog, soft in its vibrancy.

Not a word is exchanged between you two, with only the moonlight above your heads as the comfortable silence engulfs you in ellipses.

“Sing for me, Pingu.”

Jungkook’s gaze skims over your features in silent contemplation, “Bub…”

“Please?”

He doesn’t respond and you fear that he’s going to turn down your request, but then he starts singing softly and your heart gnaws at how pretty his voice in the darkness is.

Soft and crystalline, his voice hangs in the moonlight and drifts away with the stars, each word a drop of light, some of them whispered and some flawlessly held. His voice is huskier than you’d remember and its timbre sends shivers raking down your spine. You cannot emphasise how much better this is than listening to his songs on your earpiece.  

When he finishes singing, you ask, “Were you nervous just now?”

He chuckles, as if to ease the tension, “I was actually more nervous about you not showing up.”

“Pingu, of course I came,” you smile softly to yourself, “I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything and you did great – like you always do. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles back at you as gently as the pretty pink sky of a fading summertime day.

“Did you know that I started singing because of you?”

You freeze.

“W-What?”

“It’s quite obvious that all my songs are about you, silly.”

“I—”

“They’re everything that I feel towards you, but couldn’t tell you.”

Your eyes flicker across his visage – he’s biting his lips anxiously and your heart gnaws.  

“D-Did you know?” He slowly begins again, careful with his words, “That I like you?”

“No,” you admit, biting your bottom lip, “but I hoped.”

Jungkook’s eyes become soft crescents on his face and wordlessly inches forward to close the breath of space between you two, cupping your face in his hands like you’re the most delicate flower he’s ever touched. He doesn’t look away from your eyes searching your gaze silently and you watch as the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown.

If you went stargazing with him, it’d be pointless because you would spend the entire night staring at the little stars in his eyes and becoming acquainted with each of his starry friends.

“I knew though.”

The whisper is warm and enticing as the words are exhaled onto your lips, leaving trails of electricity to tingle on your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

“Huh?”

“I knew that I was going to love you.”

At his words, the press of skin to skin is nearly overwhelming. Under the moonlight, the hint of a blush glows effervescently on his cheeks.

“And too much. Far too much,” he adds, the curve of his lips soft.

Heat sits high on your cheeks as his words linger in your ears. It takes awhile for you to fully register his words, though petals are already wildly blossoming between your ribs. He makes you feel like you’ve got an entire universe in you just waiting to happen.

“Y-You love me?”

He nods.

“Listen,” he takes your hand into his, his voice soft, “I don’t know how to define myself without you anymore. You’ve been such a big part of my life and you’re the only person who has such an effect on me. I miss you like crazy when you’re not around and I knew something was up when I kept on wanting to see your face, wanting to see you smile for me and that’s when I knew it wasn’t just sex anymore. It was hardly just sex between us, even from the very start.”

The words come out in a messy tumble, and if you aren’t focusing on his voice, you probably wouldn’t have understood them. Still, the unexpected confession sends you into a mild state of delirium, mind racing a mile a minute.

“But you… You deserve to be loved loudly. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid, who isn’t always fucking up.”

“Pingu,” you begin, enjoying how his nickname rolls pleasantly off your tongue, “I’ve always wanted you from the start. And then things got really messy even though we aren’t together and even now, I’m still scared that I’ll ruin whatever we have.”

The sound of crickets echoes around you two, mixed with the faint rustling of leaves and the melody of a chilly autumn night. Muted in the back of your throat, softly lulling in the back of your mind, loudly screaming from the heart shapes in his eyes, you see love.

“But if you must know, my feelings for you are beyond this universe.”

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, tracing the lifelines of his palm, the deep crease that represents his mind, the curve of his heart, and the delicate vines that he carries with him.

“You love loudly, Pingu. You love me in every sense of the word in the gentlest and loudest of ways.”

And when he puts his hand on top of yours, it feels like your galaxies have collided and become yoked as one, his starry friends now orbiting your once solitary sun.  

“So…” He starts, rubbing his palm against the nape of his neck, “I was thinking…”

“Wow.”

He lets out a huge puff and attacks you with a fit of tickles, laughter shared in low pre-dawn voices.

“Oh my god, Pingu! Sorry, let me live!”

“You’re so annoying, but so adorable.”

“I could say the same about you.”

So I was thinking…” He repeats, his voice dropping to a soft dulcet whisper, “Hypothetically.”

You hum in response, relishing how Jungkook’s breath tickles warmly on the slope of your nose.

“Maybe we could go out…”

“Like right now? It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb,” he laughs again, a deep, throaty sound that you can feel under your skin and presses his body even closer to you. His laugh echoes throughout the night and into the city and echoes in your mid.

“As in we could go out for real,” he says slowly, “As boyfriend and girlfriend.”

A dusting of pink blooms on the peaks of his cheeks, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. It snakes furiously down his neck and he searches anxiously for your eyes, catching the light from the lamppost and they illuminate like filaments of copper, while his heart hammers against his chest.

“And maybe you would say yes.”

“Yeah?”

“And I could, you know,” he finds his fingers instinctively winding themselves in your soft strands, smoothing it down rhythmically, “Love you the way you deserve to be loved. Loudly and wholly.”

Your entire body shivers. Grabbing his hand, you smile, “And maybe… I can’t wait for you to do that.”

“Yeah?”

Under the moonlight, Jungkook’s wearing a sun of a smile on his face and there’s a lovely light that reaches his honey eyes whenever his lips stretch and his dimple deepens. Ethereal.

“Yeah.”

At the first brush of his lips, an inferno ignites. Heat blazes through your veins, rendering you molten as you sink into his kiss.

Kissing Jungkook is a lot like coming home. His kisses are as soft as sighs and giggly secrets whispered in the middle of the night; happy, private, comfortable, familiar. In a way, you feel like you’ve been doing this all whole life. And then Jungkook moves closer and traces his tongue over your bottom lip, warm and heavy. Hums spill past your lips each time your tongues brush and you feel a restless fire raging beneath your skin, a meadowsweet summer warmth blossoming in your chest as he swallows every hitch of your breath.

In and of itself, there’s no greater testament to love than love itself. For one, you love how Jungkook seems to always know what your heart wants even when you don’t say anything. You love how gentle his heartbeat is and how it’s become the sound of your universe. You love how he has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped and it loves fiercely and loudly and gently. You love how he’ll always be just there, in every sense and meaning of the word. You love how hearts will be broken and tears will be spilt, but even then, it’ll still be worth it. And you love how fully love wakes between the two of you and perhaps, it is entwined in him that you find absolution.

ta-dah!!!! this is yet another mammoth istg i want to try writing short fics but I Simply Can’t. sorry if the wait was rly long ;; i just want to say that i fucking love jungkook and writing this made me feel so soft for him once again. jungoo is the goodest boi who cares and loves so gently and loudly in his own dorky, endearing ways and i hope you feel the same while reading this! !!

i love the ending,, still waiting for the day i can use the last line for somebody that’s not jungkook because life be like that i just want someone to hold my hand lmao

i probably will disappear again bc i’m going to be taking up a (legit) leadership position in school and i can foresee myself being fking tired,,, but i have plans to start on a hobi postbreakup & volleyball au fic... i won’t promise when it’ll be out because i am horrible at deadlines

once again, thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ 

[belacedia-a]

In order to not be bombarded with annoying trivialities, Haru had to find a roundabout way of arranging her visit. Luckily for her, there were some within her sphere of acquaintances that wouldn’t bother asking questions if she simply asked: Can you help me get in contact with someone at the Varia?

She had been here before, so she knew what to expect, but it was still amazing to walk down the halls for a whole slew of reasons. When asked what her business was, she simply answered that she came to see Belphegor, just like the last time she visited. She had something to give to him. A quick glance inside the box she traveled with would reveal what she brought with her, and she got the clearance to proceed.

To say that traveling with the crown being nerve wracking was an understatement, given how expensive it must've been. She had put her brain through the wringer for the past--- how long has it been? Whichever the case, she’d been thinking very hard through a multitude of things, occasionally calling a few friends to ask cryptic questions in search for enlightenment. Of course, the girls swore to secrecy, so Haru didn’t have to worry about any unwanted rumors flying through the underground channels.

‘Well, it’ll be hard to stop anything from traveling soon, hm?’ Just as she thought this, someone had brought Belphegor to the room she was told to wait in. “Bel.” She greets him with a smile. It was just them two in the room, but Haru knew others were waiting outside the door for ‘just in case’ anything happened. It was all discussed previously, and she agreed to it. She’d feel more comfortable doing this elsewhere, but, this was a matter of being fair. In their previous encounters, Bel had come to her home ground, Namimori, so this time she had to visit him. The Varia could be considered his home ground, right?

She opens the box she’d been extremely careful with, pulling out a familiar crown he’d gifted her with on her birthday, handing it to him to take. “The last time didn’t count because nothing was official. Unless you’ve changed your mind since then, how do you feel about crowning me today as yours officially?” A playful smile flits across her features as she knows this is a very odd way of accepting someone’s affections, but she didn’t think he’d fault her for that. It takes no genius to understand the meaning of her actions, right? The saying may be 'third time's the charm,' but she thinks a second time is just as charming, thank you.

“Ah, if you don’t like that method, I guess I could just come right out and say: “If you didn’t get tired of waiting for me to give you an answer yet, I came all this way to say ‘Congratulations, you won, and my heart is yours!’ Which method do you like better?” Cue a playful giggle. Leave it to her to respond in unorthodox ways.

UNPROMPTED :  always accepting. @queenharumiura

Lustrous regalia hearkened back to his admission of desire suspended in limbo, the prince’s unapologetic craving for Haru Miura deferred to her final adjudication. Cool, regal eyes widened behind burnished golden veil, defined jaw slack, thin lips curved into a subtle gape.  “Mine?”  disbelief dripped from uneasy voice, testament to a child devoid of his mother’s affection, a teenager who never knew friendship, and a man with more cold bodies to his name than warm hearts.  “─Why?”  he whispered, fearful apprehension bleeding from terse inquiry, a single word which narrated the rigmarole of life plagued by solitude, starved for something he could never believe in.

Afraid to trust the kind smile she showed him when he strode into the tenebrous lounge, her glowing, roseate mien so painfully genuine that he became terrified of what she had come to tell him; that he was loved. It was jarring, the dulcet sincerity in her mellifluous voice was a thousand knives impaling his pounding chest; blade’s cool, naked edge tenderly kissing his heart exposed raw. Moist warmth pooled in the corners of his eyes and trickled down pale cheeks, lone wet droplet racing out into the open from ‘neath burnished golden veil, revealing itself bare.

Rivulets of liquid emotion streaked Belphegor’s frozen expression unhindered, until Haru noticed first, her reaction made him wince inwards, flattering shade of red immediately dusting the bridge of his arched nose and the top of pale cheeks. Frantically, he reached upwards to rub the mutinous tears from blurred vision with the back of his palm, displacing star-kissed bangs in the process and inadvertently revealing the twin pools of watery silver concealed behind the gilded curtain of hair. Two perfectly aligned eyes became visible, framed with long, thick lashes and defined brows, irises coloured a ghostly silver hue; a visage of eerie beauty.

“You─”  he began angrily, voice trembling, words jamming in the back of his throat, unable to find anything to say as broad shoulders shook faintly, booted feet planted firmly on the ground with one arm hanging limply at his side, the other furiously wiping unconcealed grey eyes.  “─Are not allowed to turn your back on me.”

Abstruse sentiment languished in the blistering rays of Haru’s simple honesty, loath lour betokening ugly insecurities writhing ‘neath unblemished pale skin; deign to share his weakness with another, lest they exploit the juvenile sensitivity which lurked behind a grinning mask, apathetic facade only true as long as no one could touch his heart. Terrified of misinterpreting her guileless smile, wary of giving himself away only to be discarded later; becoming just another failed lover of multiple for Haru Miura, but more irreplaceable pieces of himself given away to unforgettable people that did not love him in return.