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#❗slasher! jk thoughts
blueberryarchive · 14 days
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i want reader to call him again...please
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𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧!𝙟𝙠
previously on steph's house // later at the game...
tw: mentions of non-con
You've always heard men talk about having called at least once in their life to have sex on the phone. They usually called in groups, mutual support or stupidity, you didn't know which it was.
You knew you always wanted to know how those women could have such rich, soft and daring voices. Even when they laughed it seemed like a well-rehearsed choreography and at the end they said your name as if they knew you down to your bones. You wanted that gift, you would pay for that gift.
Now much more than ever. Or maybe you would like to know how to make another decision as daring as taking the phone from the living room again and hiding it in the bathroom at Steph's house. The girls sleeping upstairs. You should probably go back to bed.
How dare you? You have a boyfriend, for God's sake. And not only that, but with this idiot? You could feel Steph's gaze on the back of your neck, judging your finger to make the final turn.
555-5662
The buzzing is the same, the heavy lump in your throat is not. You knew what awaited you on the other side of the line, it was cruel and disgusting; but you were lying if you said you didn't need to listen a little more.
In the silent night, in the darkness of the chick-yellow bathroom, shame haunts you, warming your ears, your hands on the phone when the soft click was heard on the other side.
"Mm." Was his response, silence was yours. What the hell had you done, were you crazy?
"Fuck," he laughed lowly, "not you again."
"Do you really play?"
"I'm on the team, if that's what you want to know. But I don't think you're adding numbers to your phone bill to ask so much shit, am I wrong?"
You let your forehead cool on the tiles on the wall, is he wrong?
"God, if I had you in front of me…” Jungkook sighed and your heart skipped a beat.
"What?"
"I would force your mouth open to see if you learn to answer people when they talk to you."
"Do you always have music on when you sleep?"
"Are you always such an annoying cunt?"
Your chest burns, your eyes sting.
"You probably have a boyfriend, you all have a lapdog behind you so you don't get bored."
"Please. My boyfriend can kick your ass." You responded quickly, letting the burning spread like burning garbage.
"Are you, then?"
"What?"
"Are you so bored that you have to call the weirdo from college."
"I don't even know why they consider you weird."
This time the laughter was genuine, stupid popular girl, didn't know what she was getting into.
"You would have noticed a while ago if you were in front of me."
"Are you missing teeth or something?" You laughed, chewing on your nails.
"I'd have you bend over with your head on the ground while I split that pussy in two. You'll probably be crying and your little pussy bleeding from the dryness."
"What if I don't want to?" And you cursed yourself for having hesitated, your callgirl career looked even further away.
"Who said anything about wanting?"
And there it was, the heavy knot tied lower, down your stomach to your legs.
"That's illegal."
"Shut up and put your hand between your legs." He interrupted. The smell of detergent was so strong all of a sudden, you looked at your pathetic reflection in the sink mirror.
"You're sick."
"And you're an insignificant whore who calls me at 4 in the morning to listen to my voice and touch herself. Wanting me to tell her exactly what she wants." The stranger growled under his breath. "You're all so spoiled and pathetic, you disgust me."
"Fuck you." Your wet cheeks started to bother you.
Silence, his laughter was lethal, hoarse from hours of interrupted sleep.
"Don't let me find out who you are, callgirl. You gonna' regret it."
Your eyes opened, the darkness and silence were no longer your allies, they now seemed to engulf you. Click, the unbearable tone torturing your ear.
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blueberryarchive · 8 days
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The One Were Jungkook;
more slasher!jk
𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨; slasher, 80s, psychological horror
𝙩𝙬; non-con, somnophilia, horror, violence, blood
(thank you to @hoseokshobagi for helping me with this big mess, I love u, shut up)
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NY, 1985
The little ol' Brew House wasn't like the bar you went to with Jimin. It was so small that you could feel the sweat running down your back, the ghost of a hand or a glance behind you with every step. There was a sour smell of old, dried beer on the rustic green furniture and freshly disinfected vomit in the corner where Jungkook motioned for you to sit.
"Sit down, don't move."
You climbed onto the cracked brown leather stool, your bare thighs sticking to it like Velcro. A band was playing Iron Man on the other side and it was so uncoordinated that it matched the people sitting there: middle-aged men in blue-collar jobs, women in black leather skirts and foreign students with little money, underworld poets and their upper class girlfriends living the fantasy of muses sitting one their boyfriend's thighs while they discussed Bob Dylan and Williams Burroughs. A green and brown amalgam of sweaty skin drinking warm beer and watered down whiskey.
You couldn't help but compare both places.
Sweaty Joe's was a bar just two corners from the university, it was bathed in colored lights and posters as old as the owners of the place themselves. Red leather sofas were distributed in the corners and those, for years, have belonged to the Maroon Knights players.
This is where you met Jimin, it was your first week and you and Bobby Joe decided to have a beer, you two were new, smiled candidly at each gentleman who offered you another drink. You had never done that in the small town where you came from.
Jimin was celebrating his first winter tournament, his crimson cheekbones and his elegant smile conquered your heart, he let you sleep in his room in the trailer where he lived with his four brothers. His hands never took yours without first asking you, never looked away. You fell asleep so quickly in that bed while the little snores of the quaterback kept you stable, safe.
At dawn, you couldn't even see his face, you spent a week avoiding the hallways where he frequented until you did what your mother did to apologize to people: you baked some cookies. Unfortunately, he was on a diet but he still accepted them, his younger brother would eat them all with pleasure, you offered him a kiss and he let himself go.
That afternoon you lost your virginity behind his secong-hand orange Pontiac, white cotton panties crumpled and drooled between your teeth as Jimin held your calves. You cried so much that he forgot to moan, but your boyfriend wiped away each tear with his wet tongue and his thumbs until his cum fell thickly onto your skirt and his uniform.
The second time was different. What you don't know is that you cooking for him lit a spark, a simple breeze in a dry forest and you were the summer sun. You were going to be his wife, he promised you, with drooping eyelids and your pelvis on top of a pillow, his hands guiding your ass until they collided with his waist.
“I'm going to make you mine, I'm going to buy you a house and a huge ring. Fuck—you’re going to have to stop me at some point because I’m going to get you pregnant every time you smile at me, love. Doesn't Ms. Park have a ring to it?" He growled grabbing your hair to pull you closer to his sweaty chest.
“What is that pretty head of yours thinking about, huh?” Jungkook snapped his fingers at you, placing a long mug of beer in front of you. The second cigarette of the afternoon dangled between his fingers as he waited for you to take a drink, his eyes darting from your chest to your hair. “I saw you look at the ring on your finger.”
“My boyfriend gave it to me a month ago.” You said fixing the thin silver ring, a promise desperate to be fulfilled.
“How very” The boy laughed, choking on the smoke, you held the beer and took a long drink.
You realized that men when they exist in a cloud of promises and anonymity are more fuckable, because now seeing the metalhead in front of you, you just wanted to hit him.
“I don't understand why you keep yapping when you're not here to hear me speak.”
“I didn't want us to move on to fucking so quickly, but if you can't wait, then we'll make a little something in the alley.” Seeing your face blush he laughed again. “I'm kidding, doll. Don’t be so rigid.”
With a whistle, Jeon effortlessly caught the eye of a man nearby. His muscles were noticeably defined, and he sported a pair of square glasses that added a touch of charm. Dressed in a casual plaid shirt, his hair styled like a military man. Spotting Jeon, his face lit up with recognition, and he quickly closed the distance between you.
“Kim, I thought you weren't coming to the meeting.” Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the man's slight tensing as his friend spoke, but without skipping a beat, his hand gently landed on his friend's shoulder.
"What do you mean?"
"You literally said-"
"No, I didn't. Gosh, give me a break."
Hoseok looked in your direction with a hint of distrust, the creases on his face sharpening with each step you took. You walked closer, his eyes traced your body from head to toe, his initial skepticism fading away the moment he reached your side. Your little shorts and Wham! t-shirt hugged your curves tightly, clinging to your tits like a sculpture of marble.
"What's this?" Hoseok pointed at you and moved his fingers up and down.
"Come, I want to introduce you to my friend. We met in…" Jungkook's smile widened as he tilted his hand. “Well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you have to make a place for her in the club, wouldn't you gladly have one of the sweetest pieces of meat of the whole faculty on the team, eh?”
Jungkook looked in your direction again, he knew that the way he spoke caused tremendous disgust in you and he enjoyed it. “This is Hoseok, the president of the archery club. Greet him before he hates you for some reason.”
"Shut up." Hoseok's voice cut through the air as he extended his arm to shake yours, his calloused hand brushing against your skin. His sharp eyes studied your hands intently, examining every detail. "You got weird fingers."
"Is that how you give compliments to pretty girls?"
Hoseok let out a sigh, nonchalantly plucking the cigarette from Jungkook's mouth. With a subtle gesture, he motioned for his friend to approach while bringing the cigarette to his own lips.
“If you want to fuck one of the cheerleaders, find another way, I'm not going to put her in the club, dude.” His failed attempt at whispering, which was clearly intentional, didn't escape your ears.
“Do you think I have to fuck one of you to be part of your Disney Heroe theatre team?”
Hoseok's eyebrow arched, while leaning back against the bar stool. With a confident yet subtle sway, he adjusted his posture, his pelvis shifting ever so slightly, but still managing to catch your eye. A mischievous grin formed on one side of his lips, knowing full well of the effect he had on you. “And why the hell are you looking for me if you don't need me, Barbie?"
"I'm here to let you know that I'll be waiting for you in the green area on Monday at 3, expecting you to hand me a bow and arrow," You declared, a sweet smile playing on your lips like a precious jewel shimmering beneath a cloak of innocence as you deftly snatched the cigarette from between his parted lips. "And I hope you show up with a smile that could outshine the sun and a more decent cologne."
Hoseok scoffed with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by your little rebel talk as you took a drag from his stolen cigarette.
"You do realize you'll be the only woman in the group, right? The guys ain't going to like you, they tend to be very…"
"Terrified of women," Jeon chimed in, leaning against your shoulder.
"Exclusive," Hoseok added.
"They'll probably do a jerk-off circle if they see me in a skirt." You quipped, a sly smile playing on your lips.
The three of you looked at the cubicle where the a few memebers sat, all upper class kids who couldn't get into anything in their lives without Mommy opening the door for them first.
“Whatever, you're not even that hot, they'll live.”
You smiled, turning around on your stool to continue drinking your beer. “See you on Monday, four eyes.”
“Bye, Hobi-Bobby.” Jungkook rested his arm on the bar, his eyes positioned on your profile.
“Do you want to fuck now? I love women who know how to silence men, i'm already hard.”
"Why are you so fucking disgusting?"
"You're the one sitting next to me, you can go now." And he waited. You stayed there, speechless and waiting, too.
"Kim?"
"Who?"
“The dickhead called you Kim.”
“I don't know who that is, sweetheart.”
“Mm.” You nodded. You weren't too sure now. “Are you sure you're the one I talked to that night?”
"I promise you." Jungkook dragged his stool closer to your ear, the smell of nicotine and shaving cream was pleasant, manly. "Are those sugar tits as sweet as that voice of yours?"
“What time did I call you?” You ignored his nutty breath.
“Are you questioning me now?”
"Yeah."
His jaw tensed, biting the inside of his cheeks.
“I'm going to give you some advice, doll. If you want things to go well today, don't question me.”
You felt a rush cover your back, the beer felt colder on your fingers and you were more aware of his proximity. You were in his territory, you didn't know anyone there, you were screwed.
“Can you answer me just one thing and that's it?”
Jungkook moved closer and nodded, his pupils stabbing at your lips waiting for you to say something out of line so he would have an excuse to destroy you with.
“Why do people think you are weird?”
His sigh collided with your neck, a smile woven little by little; you could see stars in his eyes when he moved back. The raw desire to show you why.
He leaned close to your ear and whispered slowly, the urge to laugh drowned out by his words. Both his hands hiding his lips like a child. You swallowed as you finished listening, a long drink to finish the remaining beer.
He pulled out a new cigarette before your eyes met his again.
“So, in your room or mine?” He mumbled before lightning the tip.
“I'm- I think I'm going home.”
"Isn't your home in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, you silly little bun'?"
The man in front of you pouted, nodding with a dejected face when he saw you stand up, the large mug of beer hitting your trembling anatomy. You wanted to vomit, to shed your own skin to pieces, to vanish, to crawl along the road back home like a mass of nerves and to sleep in your bed until you forgot what this psychopath had just hummed in your ear in the middle of the crowd.
But what did you expect? Wasn't this what you were looking for?
That's why curiosity ends up being the cruelest animal feeling. It takes you to the cheese on top of the trap, it makes you look at the sun and go blind, it makes you run through the grass until you fall at the bottom of nowhere. Voices like Jungkook's end up taking you to a seedy bar, at the mercy of God if he is even allowed in these parts.
“Come on, I'll take the bike down for you, then.”
You grabbed your backpack and walked in front of Jeon, stares like needles digging into your shorts.
Outside, his arms stretched out to take the bicycle, as light as a feather.
“I would've take you to college but-”
“I think this is where our journey ends, Jungkook.” Your voice was firm, elegant. You knew when to say goodbye.
He remained silent, one last smile as a gift. "If you say so." His hands opened dramatically to show you the road.
You raised your leg until you sat down and accelerated down the street, the sun hiding on the horizon. You didn't know if it was the wind hitting your cheeks and eyes, but you felt the cold stream go down to your neck. You wanted the road to get shorter in front of you and suddenly you were crying like a lost child, the sharp exhale stinging your lungs, you took all the alleys you recognized and the ones you didn't and you looked around at the desolate sides of New York.
Hiding from the sun your skin grew cold and the sobs turned to murmurs praying that you would return alive to the arms of Steph or Bobby Joe.
But oh, how angelic you looked with the halo of Jungkook's car headlights on your back. A honk chilled your blood until you couldn't do anything but grip the handlebars until your knuckles turned white.
“I changed my mind, I'll take you.” His breathing was jagged, he was sweating deeply, swallowing hard to hide the psychosis.
“It won't be long now and my boyfriend is waiting for me.”
“Don't worry, just load the bike and I'll drop you off at his house.”
'No' was not an answer and you knew that, no one ever said no to her and if they did no woman managed to keep her tongue to say it.
"Roger that. Thank you, Jungkook, you are a gentleman.”
“Of course, get off the bike now.” "She muttered as she snatched the iron from your hands and threw it behind her vehicle.
The trip was lethargic, the music faltered in the car with each curve until you reached a neighborhood of white houses and yellowish lights, the crickets chirped in the safe silence of a suburb. You thought about getting out when the car stopped and screaming until your lungs vomited.
But of course when you arrived the garage door was open, the car slid across the smooth concrete without a sound.
“Do you mind if I look for a few things before I take you home?” His voice sounded so carefree that you almost believed you were going back to your dorm room. You shook your head as he went down to close the garage door, the darkness consuming your hope.
Your heart began to beat blood so fast that your hands began to try to open your door, Jungkook tilted his head at the noise until he saw your reflection in the side mirror.
"Why you do that? God, you’re so stupid.” Jungkook took your hair in his hands and without much effort dragged you out of the vehicle and onto the garage floor. His hand covered your mouth, his calloused and sweaty fingers undoing the button on your Levi's until they stuck to your ankles.
“It's only once, you have to reward me for the beer you had.” His voice burned in your ear along with the beating of your heart, a light hum of your soul trying to get away from your dirty body.
“Mm-” You groaned as you felt the fabric of his jeans mold between your ass. Moving was in vain, fighting a mere fantasy.
“Just a quickie and then I'll drop you off, don't be so rigid.”
Your body was puppeteered to the living room with dim lights, curved and modern furniture that someone paid great attention to match with the upholstery and the carpet that decorated the floor.
And your body was thrown to the edge of the pink couch, the metal underneath the cloth digging into your stomach, your ass in the air as you felt cold hands remove your underwear. Why weren't you moving? Why did you let this happen to you? What was your mom doing right now? You thought of her chubby body moving around her room while organizing her dresses.
Warm spit fell onto your pussy and you closed your eyes, the last tear creating a shadow on the corrugated carpet as Jungkook slid his cock around the entrance to wet the entire area. The phone rang five, six, ten times next to you. Beep.
Hello, you are calling the sweet home of Bee, Dr. Kim and Taehyung. We are on vacation in Florida, but when we arrive we will take your message. Bye bye!
Who were the animated voices humming on the phone and why was Jungkook's voice there? You looked at the stranger loosening his grip on the sudden crackling laughter coming from the small speaker on the phone.
"Fuck." The now stranger mumbled, holding your neck with his forearm.
"You got the wrong kid, callgirl." And your eyes opened like a full moon, you looked at the closed windows of the room. “Taehyung, you have ten to hide.”
"Shit." Taehyung whimpered behind you pushing your body to the ground, instinctively you grabbed his leg causing his body to fall to the ground next to yours.
If you were going to die today, you wouldn't do it alone.
"Five, six…"
“What the fuck are you doing, you fucking whore?! I will die if he finds me.” His reddened face dragged trying to take your sudden weight and strength off of him. It was useless. Black Sabbath began to play above the house, reverberating, like thousands of wasps between the walls. “I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please. Let me go."
Taehyung's head reached the kitchen when a worn military boot stopped his movements. The muddy sole of the boot collided with Taehyung's head, making it bounce again and again and again against the wood of the kitchen. It was a hollow, wet sound, more forceful with each blow.
You leaned your body back until you collided with the sofa, your nails anchored in the carpet.
"Sorry. I'm sorry, ple-” Taehyung tried to speak until the boot took the last hit and his jaw hung from his mouth like a toy. His eyes looked back with mercy. Run, he shouted to you with his bleeding eyes, run until you die but run. A broomstick passed through his mouth until his body bounced once more.
So still.
Drool was falling from the corners from having your mouth open for so long. Why didn't you run? Is it that the boot you were looking for so long? Was the cruelty of being curious true?
An excessively tall figure passed through the kitchen frame, avoiding Taehyung's lifeless body. Black was the first thing you saw, the dirty jeans, the leather jacket tied around his waist, the Motley Crue tank top pressing against his chest and shoulders. Sweat dripped from his mullet to his tattoos.
His face, soft and covered in red. His oval nose and thin lips, eyes like a dead deer. Metal surrounding the room like the choir of fallen angels.
It was him, it was Jungkook.
“Poor little thing.” He licked his lips as he held your chin so you were looking at him. “Look at you, so afraid of that fucking-” he growled under his breath, getting down to your level.
"Please do not kill me." You cried, the air was thick, like sulfur around him.
“I didn't promise you that in the call, baby. Did you forget already?"
His hands were delicate under your armpits until he lifted you up and took your body to the furniture sitting you on top of his wide thighs. Your body looking at the turned off television, the curved reflection showed the difference in size. You were a doll on top of that beast.
“Put your foot up.” He ordered as he grabbed your knee to help you put on your Levi's with the softness of a creature in feather hands. "Stop crying."
“I can't, I'm too scared, I want to go home.”
"Pity." Jungkook sighed, taking your underwear from his jeans, wet with some chemical. His tattooed fingers took the flimsy cotton to your nose. Bitter at first and then it burned in your lungs. “Don't try to fight it, it'll be worse for you, baby. Atta girl, just let go, inhale.” His voice was serious, unharmed, like an anesthetic just like the clorophorm. There was no harm in closing your eyes if you were in the great hands of a beast, a mammoth.
"I like you girls manageable, stupid." Was the last thing you heard, a smile grazing your neck.
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Your body rose without permission, abrupt. The pain was immeasurable.
“Jimin, she's up!” You heard a small voice in the corner of a familiar room, the sheets rough and thick.
The silhouette of Jimin's younger brother ran to the kitchen. The other two brothers approached the door, their blond heads peeking out. Jimin pushed them until he reached you.
“Hyung-”
“Shut the door, JP. I’m sick of you, just eat your fucking breakfast and get out of the house.” Jimin shouted, looking at his brothers out of the corner of his eye.
The slow footsteps receded and Jimin turned his attention to you.
“Love, no, don't cry. I'm here.”
His name fell from your lips desperately as you squeezed his face, consuming every detail so your body knew it was real and wouldn't squirm like a worm.
“Breathe with me, come on.”
You closed your eyes hugging your boyfriend's neck.
“Come on, I've prepared a hot bath for you in the twins' room.” You shook your head frantically without breaking away. “It's just to get the mud off your body, then we'll go back to bed.”
"Mud?"
“Minjun found you outside this morning, do you know where you were last night, who did this to you?”
You grabbed the sheets and uncovered your body, bruises covering your legs and stomach. The dried mud covering the sheets of Jimin's bed. A scream choked in your throat.
“Its okay, I can change the sheets. Don’t worry about that. Let's go champ, up.” Jimin patted your injured thigh so you would chain your legs around his abdomen. With a grunt, Jimin lifted you up and carried you to a makeshift tub of hot water.
The little beds were together on one side of the small room, a metal tub emanating sweet steam covering the walls of the room in a thin web of drops.
“Raise your arms.” Jimin kissed your neck gently, the nausea returning little by little but you just let your body melt in the arms of the only person who mattered. His eyes shone with the concern of a father, he undressed you as quickly as possible so that the bruises didn't have time to hurt. Reaching your shorts, he knelt in front of you and stared at your tired face.
“I shouldn't have gone to the bar last night.” He wavered his speech for a second as he slowly lowered the zipper.
“Shh.” Your hand fell into his messy hair, he was still wearing his pajamas, what time did Jungkook throw you in front of Jimin's trailer?
The silence became strange, different. You didn't understand Jimin's sudden furrowed eyebrows when he took off your Levi's.
“Minnie?”
“Motherf-” Jimin stood up and hit the wall hard. His body turned around until he was looking at the jeans on the floor again. “That's it, I'm calling Yoongi.”
"What? Yoongi, what for? Minnie, don't leave, please."
"Don't move!"
Your boyfriend disappeared from the room before you asked him what was happening. You sighed with a heavy heart as you walked in pain to the shots on the floor: a wide, slimy stain extended from front to back. The pants fell to the floor and you went to the mirror on the wall.
Your trembling finger curved until you felt the hole between your legs, the whitish and salty cum thread stretched from your entrance to your shocked face.
You don't remember Taehyung penetrating you. Was Jungkook such an animal that he came inside while you were passed out? How could he?
Tears gathered in your eyes as you laughed silently, the pain was unbearable around your waist and legs, pussy still numb and you could only remember the patterns on the carpet.
Cruel curiosity.
278 notes · View notes
blueberryarchive · 7 days
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︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑80'S SLASHER!JK (THE COLLECTION)︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑
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ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙊𝙉𝙀: Girls on Film
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙏𝙒𝙊: Chick-Yellow Bathroom
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀: Just a Game
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍: Cat-Killer Kuriosity
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙁𝙄𝙑𝙀: Qu'est-ce que c'est?
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163 notes · View notes
blueberryarchive · 12 days
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𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧
more 80's slasher!jk
previously on steph's bathroom... // later on brew house...
Dazed and Confused echoed on the walls of the garage, the heat slowly dissipated with the canned beer that you swallowed in long gulps, the air polluted with the smell of pot. You were wearing high-waisted pants and a colorful blouse, bare feet. Robert Plant moaned in your ears as you drank another beer and damn, how good the hippies had it before, you thought.
A greased hand snaked up to your waist, squeezing so hard that you felt the beer return to your esophagus, the calloused fingers decorated with thick silver rings that ruminated over your breasts until connecting his fingers and nose with your neck, an indecent exhale taking in all the air in the room and with it your coherence.
"No, wait."
“Shh, for once in your life, fuck. Shut your stupid mouth." Rings covered your lips, a wet tongue trailing your jugular and the boiling smell of weed in his mouth.
You wanted to say his name, over and over again in that guitar solo. Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
And zaz! The garage was torn from your ears, the sun covered your body lying on the stands and you were no longer dressed like you were going to Woodstock, the backlight made your boyfriend's blonde hair and his red uniform shine.
“What the hell are you listening to? I have like fifteen minutes calling you.” His ethereal smile searched inside your backpack finding the small plastic box. “Led Zeppelin. That's new.” This time the laughter disappeared, putting on the headphones.
Your body sat up looking for a coherent explanation, Jimin laughed after listening for a few seconds.
“I didn't know you liked to hear men moan, you would have told me and I'd make you a whole album.” Your hand hit his chest and he laughed again.
"Shut up."
You both looked at each other when the laughter began to die with the summer wind, practice was over, the cheerleaders were leaving and the players were dissipating, going to look for their girlfriends or in groups to go to the bar near college. It was Friday and the vacations were approaching, you could see it in the smile of each student, in their quick walks, in the circles under your exhausted boyfriend's eyes.
"Hi, beautiful."
"Hi, handsome."
God was the only one who knew how you came to be with the Maroon Warriors' quarterback, with his sweaty hair stuck to his temple, his lips swollen from biting them, and the two small black spots on his cheek, singed against his laugh lines. Defined arms and thighs wide and hard like a horse's back.
"You like what you see?"
“If I could kneel in front of you right now, I would.”
Jimin raised his eyebrows at you, where did his silent little girl and infinitely aware of every word that came from her beloved lips go? But he couldn't lie that your words made him hard under his white pants.
His hand rose to the back of your head and brought your mouth to his. There was something so inherently bestial and delicious about the smell of sweat emanating from Jimin's uniform that he made you exhale sharply and stick your tongue into the equation.
“Mm.” Jimin frowned, opening his eyes a little to confirm that he was still kissing his girlfriend. “Are you hungry, doll?”
“I haven't seen you in two weeks, Minnie. What you' think?”
“I left you with your friends so you wouldn't get bored.”
“That sleepover was so long ago, I'm bored with them.” You moaned softly, your neck burning, someone was watching you.
“Do you want to have a sleepover with your boyfriend?” Jimin scoffed and you nodded, ignoring the joke.
Your hand removed the headphones from his ears and you chained your arms around his neck, your body throbbing with a brute force that wanted to move fast and careless, that looked for a way to drag your boyfriend to the bathrooms and strip him naked, fog the walls of the bath with your promiscuity, yours of something more viscous and thick.
“Park!” a voice shouted for the third time and Jimin broke your grotesque beatitude again.
“Fuck, I'm sick of this old man.” Jimin mumbled looking at his coach. “Sir, practice is over. Let me enjoy my girlfriend for a second.” He yelled but old Grant didn't care how much you both wanted each other.
Jimin looked into your eyes with frustration and then looked at his pants, the silhouette marked thickly along the zipper to his thigh. You smiled and gave another small kiss to his neck.
“Up up, champion.” You cheered, fluttering his hair. Jimin took your coat and covered his erection, the look on his teammates' faces when they saw him stand up was indescribable, laughter while Jimin cursed them all while he went down the steps in a funny way. "Call me." You screamed. Please, you murmured.
You took your cassette player and your headphones to put it in your backpack, you watched your boyfriend listening attentively to Mr. Grant until a furry, red mass took your attention. You still didn't know what was the team mascot supposed to be with a metal sword and eyes big and open like two billiard balls, like a hunter.
One of the players patted the big red monster's back and the man inside him took off his heavy head, his dark sweaty hair, a silver hoop hanging from his right ear. Your heart was pounding, you told yourself that you were here to watch your boyfriend practice, to support him. Of course you looked at the other players from time to time trying to find Jungkook.
Things would be easier if you just asked your friends and they pointed with their manicured finger at the headless man in your fantasies. But you didn't want them to think you liked him, specially Bobby Joe who would tell Jimin in a heartbeat, the bitch. It was just curiosity, of course. You could find out yourself.
Besides, where's the fun in that?
Two weeks had passed since the sleepover and you could feel his gaze on the flesh of your thighs, the saliva of a predator with each man that passed by you, the fangs of a hyena cruelly tempting with its tips against your skull.
Two weeks searching through familiar faces and unfamiliar ones, like playing Guess Who.
Guess who listens to Led Zeppelin to sleep.
Guess who would dare to respond with such confidence to a stranger.
Guess who would smile while he promises to rape you if he finds you?
Guess who left you with his laugh tattooed on your stomach.
And your hands sweated as you felt his gaze again. There, yes. It was him again. The mascot. Between the dark strands of his hair, under his thick eyebrows and in the middle of his sly smile. It was only a second but that's enough for you. A quick, indiscreet look.
You tried to maintain your composure, to keep your balance as he walked away inside the costume lighting a cigarette with his gloved hands. You walked down the steps as normally as you could without them realizing that your heart was being strangled, you were so close.
You walked across the grass to the back of the stadium, you looked around but it was gone, like a hallucination, like the air in the garage of your dreams.
You bit your nails thinking, you only had to wait for the stadium to be alone. Enter the locker room, find that costume and... then what?. It sickened you to think that you were so desperate. You hadn't traveled from your small town to New York for this, you hadn't earned a reputation or your scholarship to chase a loser through college.
Your cheeks were burning, you could feel your mother's gaze upon seeing you in such a state. But this time you agreed with her judgment. You stood up with your head down, you don't know how long you had spent looking at the grass, but the sunset was already bathing the empty stadium in a dusty pink.
“Nice shorts.” The deep voice said from afar.
“Fuck off.” You said without thinking before turning around.
And there it was, with the cigarette dangling from his lips, a Slayer t-shirt pressed against his arms, so short that it showed the soft line of hair from his navel to hidden in his jeans. His elbows rested on his knees as he waited for you to insult him again.
You didn't even dare to do that. Could it be him?
You clear your throat and fix your hair. “Do you know where the archery club is?”
His eyebrows unravel in surprise.
“Do you like archers?”
“Why don't you assume I'm in the club?” You interrupted, stepping closer.
His smile spread across his face again, a puff before he stood, tall and careless in front of you. He looked down and you could feel the fangs salivating, just the tip entering the parietal part of your head.
“Because I’ve never seen you there.”
And Dazed and Confused started playing, the drums pounding fast in your chest. Your lips dried as you watched him walk away.
“Are you Jungkook Jeon?”
The stranger stopped in his footsteps, his head snapped up before turning to look at you. And there was the smile you have imagined so many times.
"Then it's you." He hummed, tilting his head. “Oh, the quarterback's sweet little thing, of course.” His eyes scanned your trembling body.
And now what? Everything was so quiet, there was no one around, if you screamed no one would hear you. If you moaned, no one would hear you. If you were dying, no one would heard you.
“This heat must be killing you, lil' thing. Let’s go to the Brew House, I’ll introduce you to the president of the club there.”
"Don't call me little thing." Your brain wasn't working, is this an option? He brushed off your anger with the rolling of his eyes.
"You said you wanted to go to the archery club, isn't it to sign up?" Mockingly he took some keys out of his jeans.
"Yes, of course." You stuttered walking behind him, his broad back and walk intimidating you.
“You can put your bike in the back of the truck” His brown eyes looked at you sideways. “In case you suddenly want to escape or something.” He laughed.
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blueberryarchive · 15 days
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thoughts on 80's slasher!jk...♡ (18+)
more here
(because i can't stop thinking about him)
There was something so cruel and fun about being part of a sleepover. The sweet aroma of vanilla and nail polish compacted in the room covered in colors. The muffled laughter of 2 in the morning, Steph's mother sleeping on the other side of the wall where the Billy Joel poster is. The yellowish silhouettes move slowly as they write on small pieces of paper, concentration makes them frown, smile flirtatiously at the ceiling.
“Can it be any guy?” Bobby Joe asks, tossing the piece of paper in the corner to grab another one, Steph rolls her eyes knowing full well why she would ask such a question.
If Bobby Joe was talking about any guy there would be no problem but the three girls, including you, knew perfectly well that sweet BJ wanted to put the philosophy professor's name in big italics.
“We're not going to call Mr. Hogg, Bobby Joe. I don’t want to hear him pull his old and saggy out just because I said the word ‘wet.’”
“I thought this was a game.”
“Exactly, it's a game. I don’t want to develop an infatuation with men over forty-five.” Liss attacked folding her game papers into four.
Your fingers fidgeted on the piece of paper on your knee. You couldn't write your boyfriend's name, obviously, it wouldn't be as fun since Jimin knows your friends' voices and it wouldn't be as fun to see one of your friends flirt with Jimin on the phone.
“Come on, Boo. Don't you know another man besides Jimin? Steph laughed. Bobby Joe and Liss put the names inside Elmo's mug.
No, you wanted to answer. But what's so fun about that. Now that you think about it, you should have brought your Monopoly or the old Ouija that your brother hides. It wasn't a good thing to ever leave the games to Steph.
Liss sat her face on your shoulder looking at the yellow paper, empty, desperately empty. You can put the name of someone who isn't in college, she whispered to you, taking pity on your sorry male record. And that's what you did, you chose your neighbor, only two people know how long you and Cooper haven't seen each other: God and your mom. And that was perfect, he wouldn't know your voice if you called him to ask him what his favorite position was.
Dan Cooper, the “o”s looked like long zeros and the ink pooled at the edges, demonstrating your hesitation in looking for another man in your life you wanted to call for a prank. But it was too late, Steph took the paper and crumpled it before you finished the R.
“Who dares to call first?” Liss held the cup, turning the papers over with a spoon.
Bobby Joe sighed looking into the darkness of the room. You noticed her nervousness, perhaps regretful.
“I want to change the last name…”
“Don't be a pussy, BJ.” It gushed from your lips, the Malibu bubbling in your throat with the taste of the Caribbean islands and the triple cheese pizza you had for dinner. None of the three expected to hear your babbling so early and in so few milliliters of rum.
“Well, you start, take a piece of paper.” You heard her mumble something about putting your stepfather's name on the cup, you ignored her as you took the paper that first fell on the carpet.
“Wait, let me turn on the camera.” Liss got up taking the camcorder that her father gave her for her new career in communication. Now the lens focused on the college antics of your group of friends and, occasionally, the artsy pornos that she and her boyfriend tried to sell on college corners.
Of the ten papers, the one you took seemed to be folded with the delicacy of origami. You unfolded until you undid the little cube and found a name that you have rarely heard or even thought about.
“Jungkook Jeon?” You feared you had said the name wrong but the looks between your friends were not looking for a good pronunciation but rather who dared, in fact, who even thought of trying to flirt with such a specimen.
Steph let out a squeal as she almost dropped her drink on her favorite sweater.
“God, Liss surely wrote that.”
"Why me?"
“You've always liked weird men.”
“You like octogenarians, you bitch.”
“Who the fuck is Jungkook?” You were starting to get desperate and the tiny flickering light from the camera was starting to feel like needles in your pores.
Steph takes another drink before proceeding to explain.
“He's a guy in econ class, a complete loser. He doesn't look anyone in the eye and walks around like he wants the earth to swallow him all the time."
“And why do y'all put it in the pile?” If you were going to call someone, it had to at least be worth it.
Bobby Joe and Liss look into each other's eyes and smile knowingly. BJ's bubblegum-pink coated index fingers come together and then spread alongside her smile.
“Several of the guys on the team have seen him in the showers.”
“I don't believe any of the men on the football team, that's what they said about Marc and he had a micro dick.” Steph looked pointedly at the camera. “Plus he doesn't even get up from the stands, I've never seen him play.”
“Jimin started calling him Junghood.” BJ played with her gum, twirling it around on her finger.
Jimin had never mentioned the guy to you.
“Junghood?”
“He likes to play with his bow and arrow in his free hours, like a Robin Hood.” Liss looked for another light, she wanted tried to see every line that formed on your forehead.
“The name is so stupid…no offense.” Steph finished her drink and handed you the heavy book.
You grabbed the phone directory and headed to J. The last name was easy to find and the dial easy to rotate, until your nerves choked you listening to the buzzing on the other end of the line. You wished he didn't answer, but you were also intrigued by the description. How is it that one of the players on the football team, who was supposedly well-hung and caught the attention of your little elite, was so relevant? And why didn't you know about him?
Your friends didn't focus on dragging unfortunate people through the mud, that's a high school girl thing. In college it was a matter of continuing to climb the ladder, maybe marrying a stockbroker from New York or becoming an intern at Vogue just so you could rub it in other people's faces.
And unfortunately for you, it was a Saturday night and of course this Jungkook guy would take the call. ‘I Can’t Quit You, Baby’ reverberated softly in the room, his breathing hitched and heavy. Had you woken him up? Suddenly, you were aware of all your senses, of the sense of the cassette filling up with frames of your stupid face trying to do a function as human and basic as talking, of the two shots running through your system. But oh…
"Hello?" His voice was raspy, sweet, a little nasal and whiny.
BJ squeezed your chin shaking it from side to side, enjoying your cowardice. Your face was toasted with a simple word.
“Jungkook?” You swallowed, your finger curling around the phone's pink cord.
"Who is it?" Complainant moved between the sheets until he was silent. “Fuck, it's two in the morning. Is this another one of the evangelical whores trying to sell me Bibles? I already told you what I would do to y'all if you called me again.”
And the threat sounded like a foreign promise that you wish you had heard alone. You looked at Steph who was drawing a cock next to his name, her eyes closed sensually as she stuck her tongue out.
“I just heard a rumor a couple of days ago and, you know, I haven't been able to sleep thinking about it being true.” Your voice turned to molasses, your eyebrows curled and your shoulders tensed in acted innocence.
“No, I don't sell pot. Is that it, princess?”
“Is it true that you have a big dick?” Steph, Liss and BJ were shocked. You stole the Malibu from one of them, you didn't even have the courage to talk to Jimin like that when you two were alone.
The girls ran as quietly as possible out of the room and down the stairs, opening the other phone to listen to Jungkook. But it was useless, since the person questioned did not respond. The camera already forgotten on the bed, you kneeling on the carpet hugging Liss's pink Care Bear between your legs.
A small laugh, the click of a lighter, a drag.
"What?" You could hear him reposition himself in his pillows. " You would like to know how big the weirdo in your class is, you fucking slut.”
No, ew.
“Yes, I say, if it is true.”
“How much would you like to know, mm?”
This wasn't the answer you were looking for, you thought maybe he would hesitate on your question or just hang up out of embarrassment. Maybe you should have stopped five more minutes and brought Clue or Guess Who? that was in your closet.
You thought about every face in the college hallways, about your boyfriend's friends, and about those you met at the mall or behind the movie theater on Sundays. None matched his voice.
“I told you I haven't been able to sleep for two nights, isn't that enough?”
“Maybe with a proper fuck you would relax, don't you think?”
You swallowed, letting your eyelids droop. Your hand approached the camera and you turned it to the wall so it could record its own reflection in the mirror.
“Can't talk, love? I thought you were the one who was going to play a lil' prank on me and leave me hard as a log on the other end of the line. What happened, do you really want me to crash this dick into your pretty pussy?” His laugh was mocking, he knew what he was saying and how he said it: with his hisses, deep tones; all through the smoke of an improvised cigarette in the late night.
You squeezed the bear between your legs and sighed.
“I've never been so…”
"Dirty? Badly spoken? Pleb?"
“So direct.”
“Isn't it so fucking good, though? Being able to say out loud that you think about my cock at night” The bass solo repeated itself like an angelic tune intertwined with his words.
It was hard to follow the joke when your panties started sticking to your lips with every word that came out of his mouth. Your friends had abandoned you so theycould listen downstairs and in the darkness of the room you could only imagine a headless body stretching your legs up to your shoulders, your pussy trying to make room to choke on the throbbing veins of an unknown dick.
“Do you want to touch yourself?” His question sounded like a command and your hips leaned forward, rubbing against the rough carpet.
"No."
"Ya' sure? Because just with your absence of words you have me squeezing my base. Can you imagine if you could take it all like a champ? I know whores like you, they dare to take on a whole team if they feel like it.”
His sly laugh was the last thing you could hear before hanging up the phone. You rose from the carpet searching for the cassette in Liss's camcorder, your thin fingers trembling as you destroyed the evidence of your pusillanimity and lust.
The three girls walked slowly to the room, all grouped on the bed like judges of the case. Looking for an explanation in your features but there was only one order.
“Nobody talk to Jimin about this, okay?”
The judges looked at each other, nodded in unison. Apparently bedtime approached earlier than expected and you were grateful that the alcohol had knocked out your friends so quickly.
You ran to the bathroom with the memory of his voice still fresh. The humidity still warm between your legs, you held onto the sink while you held back your moans, your forehead pressed against the mirror and your drool falling into the drain with the voracious hunger that only imagination can give.
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blueberryarchive · 8 days
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HELP WHAT DID HE DO TO YN'S VAGINA
Just what he promised.
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