The series ‘Young Slavonian Women’ explores the queer identity in the rural areas of the Balkan. The paintings realistically depicts imaginary scenes from the life of young women, that might have happened but were not historically recorded and were not part of the collective memory.
“We Are Lady Parts” is an anarchic and irreverent music comedy following a Muslim female punk band – called Lady Parts – who are on a mission to find a lead guitarist and maybe, just maybe, get a proper gig.
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which your little secret starts to get out of hand.
— contents and warnings; smut, sprinkles of fluff and angst, mutual pining, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, smoking, mentions of alcohol, mention of vomit, jk and Jisoo are mortal enemies, Taehyung gets his eureka moment, and for the smut warnings: dirty talk, spit kink, dom!jk x sub!reader, breast play, rough sex, mild possessiveness, grinding, so much kissing, oral (fem receiving), cum eating, spanking, manhandling, bondage (using a belt… anyways so-), unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!! this is fiction), very vague corruption kink, creampie, cockwarming (no one is surprised), praise, degradation makes a comeback (+ use of the word “slut”), the long awaited return of jk being mean, orgasm control/denial, oc kinda cries out of frustration but she’s having a good time, they are in love but are too dumb to realize
— words; 16,7k
— author’s notes; did y’all think you’d get rid of mean jk like that? Ha! Think again. As promised, this specific chunk of the story ended up being very relevant for the following parts, so this is why I decided to post this first. Probably all big parts will be in chronological order from now on, with only the drabbles going back and forth in time. Also, this one focuses a lot on a few side characters as well, so allow me to dump a lot of lore into this series at once lmao. This happens mid-semester, after bad reputation/bad attitude.
Jungkook hated your friends sometimes.
Now, he tried not to be a complete douchebag about it: you obviously cared about them a lot, and they made you happy. Jungkook liked when you were happy; he wasn’t planning on dragging you away from them or anything insane like that. No: the fact that he hated your friends was more of a reaction than an action, most likely catalyzed by the fact that your friends really fucking hated him too.
It didn’t use to bother him so much, but, as things between the two of you continued to progress at a dangerous pace, he saw the shadows of your friends expanding behind you more and more. You, bless your heart, still cared too much about what some of them thought and, as much as you had grown quite fond of Jungkook, their venomous comments still held you back. It seemed as if everyone around you already had a clear-cut plan of who should or shouldn’t enter your life and, well, old habits are tough to break. He understood one or two things about that.
It was a chilly night in an overcrowded party when Jungkook’s cigarette break was utterly ruined by your best friend, Jisoo, stumbling out into the backyard. He could only follow, with an expression of disgust plastered all over his face, as she fell to her knees and decided to ruin Hoseok’s pristine grass with the remnants of her dinner.
Still, he couldn’t care too much about her well-being when she almost fell facedown in a puddle of her own puke, because the fact that Jisoo, Miss Perfection Herself, was there (in a party, of all places) only meant one thing: you probably were too. And it also meant that she and her poor reflux control had just ruined his chances at being with you for the night.
And, sure enough, you quickly showed up on the doorway, sighing as you saw her catastrophic state. “Oh god, Jisoo,” you called out, graciously stepping into his field of vision, “not again.”
Hoseok’s house was near campus, courtesy of having two renowned college professors as parents, and his parties were well-known amongst students. Jungkook was somewhat close to Hoseok, especially considering that the boy helped him cheat a few too many times, and had grown dangerously familiar with the parties that he used to throw every time his parents went on a trip. It was almost a semestral occasion, considering that his parents seemed to be complete addicts to the scientific congresses in their fields, and didn’t miss a single one.
Those parties were often tricky situations for everyone involved, because there were the people who just wanted to have a good time, and there were the ones who took it upon themselves to get revenge on the fact that his parents might have fucked them over during their classes. Jungkook started attending them because Hoseok needed someone else to help him take care of the place and, since he considered Jungkook to be someone that looked “scary enough”, he became his makeshift security for the night. In turn, of course, of catching a glimpse at the future test of his choosing. It was a good enough balance.
Point was: Jungkook had witnessed a lot coming from those parties. And, still, seeing you must’ve been the strangest thing of all.
Not because you didn’t look good — in fact, his heart almost jumped out of his chest the second that you appeared into frame — but because that entire context was just so… unlike you. He had seen you frequent bars in the past (well, only once, but it was something), and you had briefly mentioned that you had been invited to a frat party once, but you said that you didn’t go. Apparently, you didn’t like the environment, which he thought was fair: it was you. He didn’t think the day would come that he’d see you in a place like that.
But, well, it was you. Even if he was sure that you were thrown into that dress as a happy accident and that something grave must’ve happened to drag you to that place, you were right there, in arm’s reach, and yet so far away. Jungkook had the momentaneous pleasure of seeing you simply existing outside of his own bubble, of witnessing your worried expression and hear your soft words as you tried to help your friend. Just like that, he was sure it would be a strange night.
He had his back against the asperous wall, standing a few steps away from the door that led to the backyard. Most people didn’t notice him there as they walked out, directly at their blind spot, and you didn’t seem to be any different. Jungkook wanted to reach out, though, to insert himself into that nightmare you were living through, try to make that sad face of yours better. But Jisoo was also right there, ready to snap at him — drunk or not.
Frankly, Jungkook only kind of hated your friends, but it was a better crutch to think that than to actually face his obstacles head-first.
Truth was: he was starting to have issues when it came to approaching you. Things were slightly different now, shifted and off-balance, and Jungkook couldn’t tell which rhythm to follow. It was much easier when the two of you would just bicker at each other and then move away, allowing for those ephemeral encounters to dissipate from your minds until, at last, you’d cross paths again. Now that was mostly gone, instead replaced by a layer of intimacy that hadn’t been there before — rather, that he had never been faced with before.
It was difficult to think when he was around you, mostly because he’d get lost in you — and, when he tried to pull away, he’d fall back into his own cyclical thoughts.
And it was that exact situation that he found himself in. As he watched your delicate fingers brushing Jisoo’s hair away from her face, Jungkook noticed himself fumble around for the right thing to say, but there was nothing. So, completely out of options, but still wanting to talk to you, he limited himself to one dumb question at a time. “Is it her first time drinking or something?”
You furrowed your brows, turning around. An expression that he could not classify— relief? Preoccupation? — crossed your face as you recognized him. “Something like that,” was all that you said before you turned back to your friend. “Jisoo, honey, are you okay? Yongsun is already calling you an Uber, alright?”
Jungkook scoffed — honey? That girl was anything but sweet. She was probably the enraged bear that destroyed the hive. “Damn.” He chuckled, taking his cigarette to his mouth. You followed as the faint cloud of smoke curled out of his nostrils like tentacles, vanishing into the cool atmosphere. “Did she fail a test or something? Why is she like that?”
The glare you gave him was so cold that Jungkook was ready to backtrack when you spoke up again. “None of your business, Jungkook,” you said, just as emotionless. He was somewhat used to you treating him like a stranger around other people, but you were never rude to him. “If you could stop talking now, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“I’m just asking,” he murmured, his voice muted by the disgusting sound of Jisoo returning her food to the land. Jungkook turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to look at that mess anymore. “No need to get all pissy.”
You scoffed. “I’m not pissy,” you told him. Jungkook wanted to laugh because you were for sure angry, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse. Lucky for him, your attention was dragged elsewhere as your other friend — the roommate, if he recalled correctly — stepped into view. “You were right about it. She puked again.”
Yongsun looked and sounded like she had just been dragged out of a hurricane — during moments like those, she really went complete mom-mode. “The Uber is here. I asked him to wait a bit,” she told you as she approached the two of you, watching as you struggled to get Jisoo back on her feet. It seemed as if she wasn’t even trying to keep her body stable at that point. “Also got a plastic bag from the kitchen in case she needs to… you know.”
“Yeah.” You signaled towards your drunk friend with a short movement of your head. “Help me out here, please.”
Yongsun agreed, going on the other side and wrapping one hand around Jisoo’s waist. Jungkook was starting to feel a bit bad now — not because of them, but because you seriously looked like you needed a break from all that.
And that was the sole reason why he decided to insert himself in that situation one more time. “Need some help?” He asked nonchalantly, a thick cloud of smoke leaving his lips.
Yongsun’s eyes snapped in his direction, apparently noticing Jungkook for the first time. She glared at him for a second before saying, “No. We’re good,” and looking away.
He found your gaze, waiting to see if you were going to say anything. You simply shook your head and broke eye contact, shattering something inside his soul.
Yongsun sighed in relief when the two of you finally managed to place Jisoo on her feet. “That’s it, Jisoo. Take it slow.” You two gave an experimental step towards the house, which she thankfully followed. Apparently, the hardest part was to get her up, because the rest was completely based on inertia. If she was moving, she’d keep on moving. “Let’s go to the car, okay? So we can get home.”
And it wasn't a surprise that Jisoo’s first words ever since she started to feel sick were, “God, this is so embarrassing,” she whined, pulling down her skirt. It hadn’t moved up, but you guessed she probably felt exposed in more ways than one. “I don’t wanna go through the party.”
“There’s no way around the house. Only through it,” Yongsun spoke softly, as if she was scared of saying the wrong things. You could understand her reluctance, Jisoo was extremely hard to deal with when she was in that headspace. “Come on, baby, it’s not that bad.”
She paused her uneasy steps. “I don’t wanna be seen like this.”
Maybe an angel had its hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, maybe he was seriously feeling bad about what you were having to deal with, but he decided to be the bigger person and help your friends. “You should go through the kitchen,” Jungkook interjected. Both you and Yongsun looked at him in confusion — hers was probably more genuine than yours. “There’s another way to the front door and practically no one is there by this point of the party. Everyone’s either upstairs or in the living room.”
You nodded, alleviation washing over your face. “Okay, sounds good,” you breathed out, looking at Jisoo to get her permission. “We can do that, right?”
Jisso agreed with a nod, and you three finally managed to get her inside the house after a few extra missed steps. As you did, Youngsun looked at Jungkook and uttered a simple, “Thanks, by the way.”
He nodded, not making eye contact. “No problem.”
You could never quite tell what Yongsun thought about Jungkook, and you weren’t planning on asking her anytime soon. You knew that she wasn’t especially fond of him — or the smoking, really, since she ranted about that almost weekly — but she wasn’t even close to the level of disapproval that you encountered when you talked to Jisoo. If you had to guess, you’d say that Yongsun probably feared him a little, taken aback by the brooding stares and sarcastic remarks he always had ready to share.
Also, there were the rumors about him. You had heard a few already, but, the more you came to know Jungkook, the less you believed them. From where you stood, privileged enough to see both sides of the situation, it looked like the classic case of things being blown out of proportion as they circulated. Jungkook spray painting somewhere on campus? More likely than you think. Jungkook being an arsonist? Absolutely not.
It was strange how simultaneously everyone and no one knew him. Jungkook had gathered a bit of fame for himself — or infamy, depending on your perspective — and you weren’t ignorant as to why. He seemed and acted cool, he looked as smoking hot as they come, and he glared at people like he was ready to break hearts (or faces) left and right. The overall male-attracted population of campus came flocking around him in no time.
Rather, people knew of Jungkook. They just didn’t know him. And you were slowly finding out who he was beneath all that.
The sound of Yongsun’s shoe sliding against the wet concrete caught your attention and you braced yourself for a catastrophe that, thankfully, never arrived. She managed to regain her balance, cursing under her breath as you two gave your final steps towards the parked car.
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go to your place. Just a bit more.” Yongsun was far more delicate than you when it came to situations like that. You often didn’t know how to deal with people when they were shitfaced (or with yourself, frankly). Lack of practice. “You have your apartment keys, right?”
Jisoo nodded, but she still looked out of it. Half because of the booze, the other half because of shame.
“You sure you don’t wanna take her to our place?” You asked Yongsun, opening the car door. The driver gave a quick glimpse at Jisoo and widened his eyes, probably praying to all the gods above that she wouldn’t ruin his precious leather seats. “I can help too.”
“No, it’s fine. She’ll be more comfortable at home anyways.” Yongsun struggled to place the girl on the backseat, with Jisoo’s nails digging to her forearm in a terrible attempt at grounding herself. “Besides — fuck, girl, relax — besides the fact that she’s gonna kick me out the second that she sobers out. It’s better if she’s already in her own place when she tries to do that.”
“Fair,” you commented, unsure of what to do with your hands — or with yourself in general. “Sure you don’t want me to go?”
“Yeah, it’s better if it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it.” After finally managing to buckle Jisoo up, Yongsun shut the door, already moving towards the other side of the vehicle. “See you tomorrow, alright? Text me when you get home.”
You nodded, and your friend got in the car. “You too.” Swiftly, you lowered your upper body so you could lean on the window, looking at the two of them. “Jisoo, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Take a shower and go to sleep, alright?”
“___, wait.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you in, almost making you hit your forehead against the roof of the car. You decided to give it a pass, since she was clearly out of it. “Did someone see me like this?” Her words were slurried together and you needed a few seconds to pull those syllables apart. When it all clicked, her terrified gaze was all that you could focus on. “Please tell me that no one saw me. This is a nightmare.”
You sighed, removing your hand from her own. It was better to lie in a situation like that. “Just Yongsun and I, it’s fine. No one saw you,” you told her. Jisoo simply nodded, face melting with relief. You leaned back, taking a step away from the car. “Be safe, okay? You two.”
As the vehicle sped away, you still caught a few fragments of Yongsun’s speech as she tried to convince the driver that she had a plastic bag, so it was all under control. It was such an odd situation to be placed in, you realized, such an unreal moment that developed from your best friend being completely unable to deal with any sort of societal disapproval. It almost felt like a joke.
Jisso was kind of a strange character, you thought. There was something inside her that ached to be accepted — to be the very best at everything, to have the biggest amount of friends, to be liked by everyone. You were used to it and, frankly, you could see a lot of that toxic trait in yourself as well. You just didn’t know it could get to that level, in which she’d drink beyond the point of reasoning just to blend in.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise when Jisoo asked you to go to a party with her, but it was a bad sign. Jisoo had only gone to a handful of parties in her life (still more than you, if you had to guess) and, every single one, it was because of peer pressure. Because of a guy that she liked that was going; because a friend at the time manipulated her into keeping her company; because everyone else was, so she had to go too, so she wouldn’t be let out. As much as you accepted the fact that you spent a good chunk of your life seeking approval, it didn’t get close to what Jisoo went through. It was a much more distorted, intense mirror of yourself, one that didn’t allow her much self reflection.
Jisoo hated Jungkook for a lot of different reasons, some more personal than others, but they were all covered by a thick layer of disgust for the fact that he, unlike her, didn’t care about anything — and he still ended up in the same place as her. Jisoo spent her entire high school studying like a madwoman, only to be in the same college as someone who took the “high” in “high school” way too personally. She cared about her social life, cared about making friends; stretched herself thin to make everyone happy — only to see Jungkook doing it effortlessly, all kinds of people flocking around him like vultures to a carcass. She could not comprehend how someone so different could end up with the same general outcome; thought that it was unfair that she had to work so hard for so much when Jungkook simply sat around, waiting for a miracle to fulfill his shallow wishes, and it often happened.
She had constructed her own black and white narrative in her head, because that was far easier than to be faced with the fact that people are made of several shades of grey. Again: you kind of understood that. You had been there once, and were still fighting against a few flashes of that entitled mindset on the daily — most of which applied to Jungkook himself.
Speaking of the devil, you found Jungkook in the same spot, stepping on what was left of his cigarette. “Sorry about that,” you told him, leaning your back on the wall next to him. There weren’t so many people in the backyard (most of the party was concentrated inside the house), and the few present ones seemed to be too distracted to bat an eye at either one of you. “Problems at home. Long story.”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook guaranteed, even if he wasn’t so sure about it for a second. There was something bitter burning its way up his esophagus, and he didn’t like that one bit. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“I didn’t plan to, really.” You shrugged. “It just kind of happened. Jisoo is having a rough time, one of our friends gave the idea and well… you saw how that turned out.” You signaled towards the dirty grass. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around, though.”
He raised one eyebrow, glimpsing at you. “Past tense?”
“Yeah. Past tense.” You smiled, looking down at yourself. The dress that you had borrowed from Yongsun wasn’t too revealing, and yet it made you feel like you were naked. You didn’t know if it was the way the fabric held to your waist and breasts, or if it was the way that the hem was far higher up than you were used to, but you felt strange. Not bad, necessarily, just strange. “What about you?” You looked back up at him.
“Taehyung dragged me over here,” Jungkook said, focused on the strangers that danced around the pool. It was just a matter of time before one of them lost balance, and he didn’t want to be there to see it — he had better ideas brewing amongst his thoughts. “He pretty much vanished in three minutes, though. He always does that.”
You pouted. “Aw, poor thing. Your friend left you alone?”
He scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”
“Fair enough.” You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the coolness of the night. “Sorry if I was rude to you earlier, by the way. I was pretty mad at that entire situation. I also didn’t have the best week, but that’s a completely different story.”
“It’s fine, shit happens,” Jungkook said, sounding as if he was only half-present in the conversation. “You don’t look like you wanna talk about it.”
“Yep. Not at all.”
And that was when he decided to strike. “Do you have plans for the rest of the night, by the way?”
You turned to look at him, a knowing smile already curling up on your lips. Good to know that some things didn’t change so easily, and that Jungkook still was direct when it came to getting you alone. “Something in your mind?”
“Maybe,” he spoke slowly, testing the waters. You had that malicious glint in the depths of your irises, but he also knew that things were often not that easy. Just because you were interested, didn’t mean that it would happen. “What are the chances I’ll get you alone around here?”
Much to his inner despair, you didn’t respond to that question right away, instead hitting back with a, “Why would you want that?”
“You know why.” Once again, Jungkook didn’t allow any room for interpretation. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to skirt around the subject either. “Wanna get a room upstairs?”
You took a deep breath, uncrossing your arms. “Not sure, do I?” By that point, you were buying yourself some time. At the same time that you wanted to, all those people around you were more than enough to make you reconsider. “Seems kinda risky.”
He scoffed. “We’ve done worse things in worse places.”
“None as crowded as this one though,” you threw back, signaling with your head towards the backyard. Not to mention the inside of the house, which probably constituted a fire hazard at that point. “Anyone can see us together.”
Jungkook didn’t care at that point. Some part of him almost wished that someone would, so you didn’t have an excuse to continue with that suffocating secret any further. Instead, what he said was, “We’ll lock the door.” But you didn’t seem convinced. “Seriously, everyone in Hoseok’s parties is far too drunk or too high to care. No one’s gonna notice, and the ones that will won’t give a fuck.”
You paused. “You know Hoseok? His mom was one of my teachers last semester.”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, we’re… friends, I guess.” He didn’t know how to classify his situation with Hoseok: they were more than acquaintances, but not even close to actually being friends. Probably partners in crime. “Long story.”
“How mysterious,” you teased, the ghost of a smile crossing over your features. Jungkook melted slightly under your gaze, so he rushed to find solace somewhere else, choosing to look at the intoxicated, loud-talking guests near the pool. You apparently took that as a silent admission of guilt. “It’s okay, I know he steals tests. You can tell me that.”
Jungkook laughed at that, taken a bit off guard. He had no idea that people like you — as in, people who studied for tests — knew that kind of information. It was even more amazing that you didn’t snitch. “I never said a word,” he said playfully. “And you have no way to prove it.”
You giggled. “Wouldn’t dream about it,” you told him. Jungkook was staring at you now, expectation glinting inside his eyes. You raised one eyebrow. “What?”
The light brush of the back of his hand against yours was almost imperceptible, fingers bumping against each other before they fell back into place. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else,” he tried again, much softer this time. “I miss you.”
You smiled at that, heat building up on your cheeks. Truth was: you missed him too. “I’m here right now,” was what you told him instead.
He sighed. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, you did. Things were a bit rough when it came to seeing each other now. A few weeks after your post-winter break fiasco, Jungkook had unceremoniously decided that he wouldn’t take another semester of immunology (technically, he had already started it, but he felt no guilt when he decided to drop it). It was already a heaven-sent miracle that he managed to pass with the exact required grade the first time, and he wasn’t pushing his luck: if the basics were that horrible, he couldn’t even imagine the advanced subjects. And so your tutoring sessions with him went down the drain.
So it was clear to see how your situation was getting a bit trickier, since you had lost your primal excuse for, well, basically everything. Before, you could blame anything on the fact that you were tutoring him. Caught sneaking somewhere strange? Just a shortcut to the library. Your friends couldn’t reach you for hours? Last minute help, with no distraction. Why did you talk to Jungkook (and why did he talk to you)? The tutoring, obviously. Nothing more.
Of course, you two still saw one another, but it was under different, more dangerous circumstances. Perhaps that was why you were so swiftly swept away by his pleading puppy eyes, even if you didn’t believe that was the best decision.
“Fine,” you accepted with a sigh, “I’ll go upstairs and text you where to find me. Wait a few minutes, though. Don’t make it super obvious.”
“Have a little faith in me, princess.” Jungkook smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “I’m a master when it comes to sneaking around.”
You rolled your eyes. “You better be.”
One amazing fact about Hoseok’s parties was that a good chunk of his guests were far too worried about his parents’ status to dare to do something in their room, and that fear spread out just enough to keep his own bedroom empty as well. Every once in a while, someone would adventure inside one of those places and, lucky you, you were the chosen one for the night. Jungkook almost laughed out loud when he got your text — you were blessed enough to choose Hoseok’s room, at least. That one he could deal with, if necessary.
Like you had told him to, he waited a little before following you upstairs. In those moments of expectancy, however, his thoughts once again got the best of him. Jungkook was never someone to overthink — if anything, it was the opposite, merely letting life follow its course — but, when it came to you, it was different. That scared him deeply, and so did the contents of his poderations: he always felt so much lighter after he talked to you, even if it was something so simple, so ephemeral, as the conversation the two of you had shared that night... but there was something off.
He couldn’t pinpoint what it was at first, so it grew and grew inside his heart, clawing at his soul, burning its way up his stomach. There was sadness in it, he noticed, a bizarre melancholy that walked side by side his other thoughts — you were so pretty, he said to himself, so bittersweet; he wanted to hug and kiss you until he was out of breath, until there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.
Unfortunately, though, the world was still so crowded. There was nothing he could do about it.
Jungkook walked inside the house, diving into the overwhelming heat and the loud beating of the song. He was lost in his own world, trying to figure out what the demon on his shoulder was whispering to him, but being unable to do so. Out of options, he let it go. For now.
He entered the bedroom about ten minutes after you — the sound of the party growing into a thunderous roar as the door opened, then morphing into an indiscernible humming as it closed. Jungkook stood there for a moment, looking at you for a couple seconds, before his eyes darted around the dark ambient.
The moonlight was dripping past the thin curtains, accumulating in silver puddles on the floor. You had decided to leave the lights off so as not to receive any unnecessary attention from anyone else, but it was having the opposite effect when it came to Jungkook. If he thought that, if stared at you for long enough, he might lose his composure completely.
“Haven’t been in this place in so long.” He placed his hands inside the pockets of his black jacket, following the details of Hoseok’s band posters all over the walls. His room was tidy, filled with trophies and honorary mentions that almost made Jungkook burst out laughing. Instead, just as he was about to do so, he met your inquisitive gaze. He instantly folded. “Okay, okay, I paid to get a stolen test from him. Happy? Go ahead and call the cops.”
You smiled. “I’m not saying anything.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Like you need to do that,” he replied, walking towards the bed. You looked so beautiful under those pale lights that he could no longer avoid it, succumbing into the magnetic pull you had on him. “You’re judging silently, you’re like a pro at that.”
“Fair,” you acknowledged, body bouncing up a little as he sat down next to you. There was a thickness permeating the atmosphere now, a cloud of heat that surrounded you, booming inside your chest. It had been some time since you two were that close and it showed. “I’m full of talents.”
He smirked, leaning back on one hand. The other one found its way to the nape of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. “I know you are,” Jungkook mumbled, stare flickering towards your lips. “Come here.”
No need to tell you twice. You met him halfway, a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as his lips found yours. One second later and your hands were finding support on his broad shoulders, fingers gripping on the fabric of his jacket as Jungkook held you up, guiding you towards his lap. A long time ago, he had told you that having you straddling him was the best position to kiss you in, and you had to agree.
The new angle allowed him to deepen the kiss with ease, a grunt vibrating inside his throat as his tongue played with yours. It was all so fast-paced, so needy — merely a byproduct of your accumulated sex drive, which wasn’t even held back for that long. More and more, however, you realized that the issue came directly from him, and the ghostly touches Jungkook left behind. It was easy to miss him when he kissed you like his life depended on it, hands exploring your body as he moaned against your tongue; it was easy to want more when he was always eager to provide; when you gave him everything and he still wanted more.
And Jungkook didn’t know what worried him the most: if he continued to ask for more and it pushed you away, or if you actually gave him what he asked for. Because, in the end, there was still an annoying fly of insecurity buzzing around him, telling him that he’d never be enough for you; never would make the cut to be part of your life. Every time he made out with you, he felt like he was playing the world’s most dangerous game and that he was just too deep to back out now. It could be the last time he kissed you, the last taste of your tongue before you realized you deserve someone better than him. And he would be left behind to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart off the floor.
Still, every time that you proved to him that it wouldn’t be the last time, he felt equally desperate. That made him realize what his previous anguish was about, made him see that there was a shadow being casted over him for some time now, and he simply didn’t know when he’d hit a brick wall, but he was positive that he would. What would change if, against all odds, the two of you continued together? What would change if people knew? Would the thrill be gone, or would your connection be better, more genuine? Could he actually handle being that close to someone?
All those thoughts crashed into each other inside his brain, flowing like tempestuous waves as his hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips. You felt so soft above him, with your breasts pressed against his chest and your nails scratching on his scalp, that he never wanted to let you go.
He groaned when you slowly moved your hips against his, searching for friction. You wished that he would continue making out with you like that until the stars burned out, but Jungkook had other plans in mind. “Fuck, I missed kissing you,” he cursed as he pulled away, his lips meeting your jaw straight away. He smooched and licked his way down your skin, his breath heavy and warm against the small wet spots he left behind. His hands were on your ass, squeezing as you pressed yourself down against his growing erection. “Whose dress is this, by the way?”
“Yongsun’s,” you told him, fingers digging amongst the strands of his dark hair. He only hummed in return. “I didn’t have anything to wear to a party, so she let me borrow this.”
He chuckled against your skin. Your neck seemed to be terribly sensitive that night, because it didn’t take long until you were gasping at the feeling of his lips and tongue against it, “Shocker,” he mumbled. Jungkook’s hands slithered under the hem of said dress, groping your ass beneath the fabric. Your back arched, center rolling against his covered cock once more. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” You breathed out.
“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed, moving down to your clavicles. “Is driving me crazy. I should thank her next time I see her.”
“You should not.” You giggled. “Just don’t ruin it, since it’s not mine.”
He hummed, one hand flying up to the zipper. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not gonna stay on for long.”
Jungkook, of course, was a man of his word. It took him a few failed attempts to successfully pull the zipper down, allowing for the soft fabric to slide away from your body, and another couple seconds of fumbling and shifting around until the piece of clothing was fully removed. He was especially eager that night — his mouth attacking your neck every time you pulled away from his kisses, sucking and biting on the flesh until you were whimpering.
With that out of the way, he held you tightly by the waist and turned you around, his figure closely following your own as your back crashed against the bed. You tried to move upwards, closer to the pillows, but Jungkook tugged you back into place by the hips.
“No, no,” he teased, positioning himself between your legs, “you stay here.”
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t protest when he pushed your thighs apart. “You’re so rude sometimes.”
Jungkook nodded, fingers hooking around the hem of your panties and pulling it down, throwing it somewhere behind him. “You love it,” he said.
When it came to that, your body betrayed you straight away. It only took one glimpse at your pussy to know that you were already wet, and the uneasiness in which your hands grasped the sheets didn’t help you disguise your anticipation at all. Jungkook, of course, already knew that, and he was ready to give you whatever you asked for.
Air got trapped in your lungs as he started placing wet, sloppy kisses on the inner side of your thigh. You gasped at the tingling feeling, goosebumps spreading through your body as Jungkook’s lips gradually approached your mound. “D-Did you lock the door?” You asked.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice muffled against your skin.
But your paranoia was getting the best of you, so another question soon filled the stuffy atmosphere. “And what if someone hears us?”
“They won’t.” He breathed out, mildly irritated. Jungkook didn’t know why you were thinking so much about other people when he was right there, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most. “Music’s too loud.”
It was loud, you just didn’t know if it was loud enough. Your attention was called towards the closed door, somewhat expecting that someone would burst it open at any given second. “And you don’t think your friend is going to be pissed that we’re doing it in his bedroom?” You tried again.
Jungkook raised his head just slightly, staring you down. He was impatient, that was clear, and your constant doubting was starting to get on his nerves as well. The door was locked, the music was ridiculously loud, and no one would see the two of you. You had let him fuck you in far worse places, he didn’t know why you were suddenly so self conscious about being in a private room. “Seriously couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he’s gonna think about this,” he groaned. Much to your dismay, Jungkook moved straight past your pussy, kissing his way up your lower abdomen. “I can fix that later.”
“That’s a terrible life motto.” You smiled, but there was an anxious edge to your voice that he didn’t miss. His hands squeezed your waist as he pulled your body forwards, mouth hovering over your covered breasts. You got the cue, and raised your torso just enough so his hand could unclasp your bra. “Can get you in a lot of trouble.”
Jungkook scoffed, mindlessly throwing your underwear away. You were completely exposed now, while he hadn’t even removed his jacket. “I have the basic common sense to know when to use it,” he responded, his mouth clinging to your breasts straight away. Jungkook could probably die with his face between your tits and he’d be a happy man, just sucking on your nipples and listening to those whiny, soft sighs you produced for him.
However, even that you managed to ruin. “I have my doubts about that.” You chuckled.
Jungkook groaned, finally putting an end to his ministrations. “Can you be quiet for a second?”
You smirked. It was always fun to get under his skin. “Thought you like it when I get loud,” you teased.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Not like this.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Like what?”
“___,” Jungkook breathed out, shutting his eyes for an instant. Oh he was pissed pissed. Got it. “I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight.”
Every new question coming from you was another shot in the dark, not knowing what you would hit. “For what?” You pressed further.
“You being bratty,” he growled, his hands sinking to your hips as he pulled your body closer to his. You could feel his erection straining against his pants, poking your inner thigh as he pressed his weight down on you. “Seriously not in the fucking mood.”
“That’s too bad.” You pouted — in all honesty, though, you were already starting to second guess that demeanor of yours. Just because it was fun to play with fire, it didn’t mean that you should. You should’ve learned your lesson by that point. “What has gotten into you?”
Jungkook hesitated, wondering if he should say it or not — if it would actually solve anything, or only make it more complicated. It wasn’t only one thing: it was the fact that he hadn’t seen in you in some time, the fact that he missed you, the fact that he couldn’t even show you that he cared without being afraid of pushing you away. Also, the manner in which you had acted earlier around your friends probably didn’t help his case at all.
That was why you were so insecure, he realized: because, yeah, you were fine with public spaces as long as they were mostly empty, as long as no one you knew could find out about the two of you. And now, even with a locked door and basically no way to be discovered amongst a sea of intoxicated strangers, you were anxious, thinking that it would all go up in flames.
However, he realized that he didn’t want to discuss any of that. Especially knowing it would lead him nowhere, considering he was still battling against his own incoherent thoughts, trying to make sense of the emotions dancing inside his soul.
“Doesn't matter right now.” His large hand held your face in place, fingers pressing down on your cheeks as he made you stare back at him. Your eyes were wide and expectant, flickering all over his face in a way to try and understand what was happening inside his brain. “All that matters is if you can behave for me tonight.”
You blinked a few times, digesting his words. “I always behave,” you said softly, testing the waters. It had been a long time since he acted like that with you — kind of mean and rough in more ways than one — and it instantly threw gasoline into that bratty flame inside you. “Why do you say that?”
He clicked his tongue. “Not always,” he corrected, apparently not falling for the faux-innocence in your tone. “And I don’t want you talking back.”
You pouted. “Not even a little bit?”
Jungkook pressed a bit harder on your cheeks — it didn’t hurt, but it sent a clear message: you needed to shut the fuck up. “Not even a little bit.”
And, well, you know what they say: if you can't beat them, join them. “Okay,” you agreed. “I can do that, if that’s what you want.”
“Good.” Jungkook got closer, but the grip on your face didn’t subside. His lips were two petals brushing against yours as he spoke up again. “Can I be rough with you, princess?”
Now that was an agenda you could get behind. “Yeah,” you promptly replied. “Want that.”
“That’s my girl,” his tone softened, but his eyes were still malicious, watching the oscillation of your own as he finally let go of your face. His gaze burned on your skin, following the dainty movement of your tongue as you wetted your lips. “So perfect for me.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours once more, swallowing your moans when he eagerly pressed himself down on you, rolling his hips against your center. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel how hard his cock was, brushing between your folds as his tongue explored your mouth. He was kissing you fast, thoughtlessly; leaving you gasping for air as he grunted, before moving away like nothing had happened.
Jungkook looked down at you as if he was reading every line in your face, watching closely for any reaction that would displease him. In some strange, masochist way, you liked when he got like that — it always left you tipping around the edge of nervousness and anticipation, unaware of what he would do next. More often than not, you couldn’t really predict it.
That time, it wasn’t any different. His hand rapidly returned to your jaw, thumb caressing your lips. “Open.” He commanded. You did as he told you to, heartbeat quickening when you realized what he was about to do. Jungkook leaned forward and allowed for a glob of saliva to drip down your mouth, a satisfied hum leaving his throat as you closed your mouth. The whole situation left you just as confused as aroused. “Swallow.” He told you. Once again, you followed his orders. “That’s it. What do we say?”
You blinked up at him, rummaging around your head for the answer that he wanted. “Thank you?” you tried, unsure.
Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning in to trap your lips in his. He inserted his tongue inside your mouth straight away, drowning out your whimpers. It was a messy kiss, one that left you struggling as you tried to follow his pace, just barely managing before he was deepening it, sucking the air away from your lungs. By the time that he moved back, your heart was drumming, beating like a caged bird against your ribs. “You’re lucky you’re a fast learner,” he said. “Want you to do something else for me.”
You didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”
“Dangerous thing to say,” he teased, but didn’t seem to dwell in those endless possibilities much further. He had already outlined his plans for the night. “Hands and knees for me, baby.”
He got out of the way so you could get in position, his heat leaving you behind. Eager to please him, you turned your body around and crawled a bit closer to the headboard — which he finally allowed you to do.
Jungkook clicked his tongue, one hand coming down to press onto your upper back. “Lower. Ass up, princess.” He guided you until you had your cheek pressed against the soft white pillows, breasts resting on the mattress. He moved back so he could take a better look at you, the hand that was on your back now sliding up the curve of your spine and resting on your ass. “Perfect. Hold just like that.”
Jungkook started to unbuckle his belt, his tattooed fingers working fast to remove the black leather. Instead of moving on to his pants, though, he slid the object off, measuring it for a second before looking back at you.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
He ignored your question. “Hands behind your back.”
And because the nervousness of being unable to predict his actions got the best of you, you let a stupid joke slip. “Are you going to arrest me, officer?” You smiled.
But your smile didn’t last long. Jungkook’s hand was hitting your ass the next second, earning a soft whine from you. It wasn’t too painful, but it was enough of a warning shot to shut you up straight away. “I said no talking back,” he reminded you, serious as ever. “Hands behind your back.”
It was a very uncomfortable position to have your face pressed down against the pillows, with nothing else to support your upper body, but you followed his command regardless, placing your hands together. You had to bite back a gasp when Jungkook circled your wrists with his belt, moving it around until he was buckling it tightly. He gave it a last pull to make sure it would stay in place, smirking in content as your body followed it, bouncing back a little.
“Too tight?” Jungkook asked carefully. “Tell me if it hurts.”
The thin sides of the harsh leather stung your skin a little, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. “No, it’s okay,” you told him.
“Good.” He exhaled, stepping out of the bed. “Eyes on me. And don’t move.”
Obedient, you nodded, watching as he removed his jacket, soon followed by his shirt. Your attention instantly fell to the rise and fall of his toned chest; the beautiful outlines of his muscles standing out against the pale luminescence. When it came to Jungkook, you were a bit perverted: all that you wanted to do was to kiss and bite your way down his body; to lick his abs and tease him until he was gasping under your touches. However, all that you could do was to pathetically fight against the restraints as he continued to strip.
You swallowed dry as his pants were thrown somewhere on the ground, your focus instantly shifting towards the outline of his big, hard cock against his light grey underwear. Jungkook’s hand caressed its way down his abdomen, the ink of his skin contrasting perfectly against the clear shade of his boxers, before his fingers were squeezing his shaft. He sighed at the sensation, thumb started to circle his tip through the fabric, staining it just lightly with his precum. For a second you were hypnotized by his actions, but then he was pulling his underwear down and you snapped back to reality.
The need to ask for him to rush was all-consuming, scorching your insides as Jungkook took his sweet time. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, though, since he appeared to be deadset on making you drop that spoiled, bratty attitude of yours. Basically, you knew he’d only punish you further by going even slower.
What was left for you to do was to watch as Jungkook started pumping his length, his wrist turning a bit every time he reached the tip. Under the frail light coming from outside, you could see his cock leaking for you, throbbing every time he teased his slit for a second too long. It was torture waiting as he made his way back to the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight as he kneeled behind you.
You flinched when two of his fingers entered you unannounced, but quickly eased into his touch as he started separating them, more worried about stretching you than properly fingering you. Without a single complaint, you waited, quietly crying out his name when he randomly hit a sensitive spot inside your pussy.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praised, apparently at nothing in particular. You liked to believe that it was because he knew how much you were holding back, though, and it filled you up with pride. “Think you’re ready. What do you say?”
You nodded, cheek brushing against the pillow. You could only hope that your makeup wasn’t starting to smear all over it. “Yes, please.”
In return you only received a nonchalant hum, Jungkook’s hand leaving your heat soon after. He had a dangerous expression of focus and tranquility plastered all over his face, his messy dark hair falling over his hooded eyes as he gripped your hips, pulling you towards him. Apparently, though, he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted just yet.
Your mouth fell open in a silent exclamation when you felt his cock sliding between your folds — so heavy and swollen against your pussy. Behind you, Jungkook’s cool demeanor cracked just slightly, a deep grunt vibrating inside his body. “Shit, look at you, baby. So fucking wet for me, soaking my cock,” he spoke, tentatively rutting his hips. You gasped at the feeling, mindlessly pushing yourself back. “Fuck, what got you so worked up?”
Of course he wanted you to fuel that small ego trip of his, and you were happy to comply. “You did.”
Jungkook was lost in thought, barely catching your response. “Mhm… You don’t always get like this, though,” he said, slowly rolling his center against yours, his length sliding easily between your folds. “Is it the belt?” He asked out of nowhere, a manic look on his face as one hand gripped the strap of leather. “Want me to use it to fuck my cock inside your pussy?”
“Please,” you whimpered, desperate.
“How dirty.” Jungkook chuckled — it was a deep, evil chuckle that left you on edge. He was clearly in a strange mood, that much you could tell, but apparently that was also a sadistic one. “Want me to use your cunt like that, baby? Like it’s a toy for me to fuck?”
“Yes, please,” you whined, a small cry breaking upon your lips as his tip bumped against your clit. You arched your back, trying to push your body towards him, but it was a fruitless endeavor. Jungkook was holding you in place with an iron grip, forcing you to keep his own, sluggish pace. It was what you told him you’d do, though, you said you’d behave for him. “Please just fuck me.”
“Always so impatient,” Jungkook commented, touches of bitterness decorating his tone. Every slow slide of his cock between your folds was a brand new level of hell, your entire body just pleading for more. “Is that all that you’re good for? For taking my cock?”
“Yes,” you were just saying whatever you thought he wanted to hear, your mind hyper-focused on the desire that pumped inside your veins. There was a strong pull on the belt then, a random movement that got you jumping backwards, your eyes fluttering shut as his cock hit hard against your clit. “F-fuck— Only yours.”
A sharp pain spreaded throughout your ass, the result of Jungkook’s palm crashing against the flesh. You whined at the feeling, yet found pleasure within the stinging sensation. “I said eyes on me, ___,” Jungkook reprimanded, a frown decorating his features when you opened them back up. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Sorry,” you keened.
“It’s okay, you’ll learn.” He breathed out, the hand that had just hit you now holding your body down. “Stay still.”
The tip of his cock prodded against your entrance — bumping against it once, twice, before Jungkook finally decided to enter you. He did so extremely slowly, exhaling loudly as his crown slipped inside you, dragging deeper inside your pussy as you moaned and shifted beneath him.
“I said stay still,” he hissed, leaning forwards and pressing his weight down on you.
You nodded, a few chaotic strands of your hair falling over your forehead as he continued to move inside you. Jungkook was so big, long and thick, opening you up and filling you to the brim. “F-Fuck,” you hiccuped, brain almost short-circuting at the feeling. You’d never get used to his size, that you could be certain of. “So deep.”
He only ignored your comment, giving a last, tentative tug on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper than that. “You know,” he started, his voice a rough, breathless whisper against your ear, “you make me so fucking confused sometimes.”
Well, that you weren’t expecting. “W-What?”
Jungkook's sigh was shaky as it left him, his fingers digging into your skin. He was holding you in place, soaking his cock in your pussy the way he loved so much, and he was struggling to find the right things to say. “When I have you like this, you get me so confused,” he repeated, “every single time. Just makes me fucking crazy.”
But that didn’t help you at all. “I… I still don’t understand.”
Jungkook smirked and placed a kiss against your shoulder. It was a gentle, controlled action that didn’t match his demeanor. “It’s okay, baby.” He moved away from you, one hand wrapping around the belt. You swallowed hard at the expectation that came from his actions. “I’ll explain it to you.”
Often, he would wait for a bit longer — stay completely still inside you until you were crying, pleading for him to do something — but, that night, it seemed that his patience was running thin. Regardless of his own impatience, however, the first few thrusts that Jungkook gave you were so shallow and slow that he might as well have remained immobile.
Perhaps in a different time he would read the way you tried to push yourself back against his cock and he would be nice enough to give you more. Nevertheless, he was trapped inside his own meditations at that moment, letting his thoughts spill out like venom from his lips. “It’s hilarious, don’t you think? How you got everyone fooled,” there were traces of playfulness in his tone that didn’t match the seriousness of his dark eyes, nor the way his hand tightened around the belt. He wasn’t using it yet, but it was just a matter of time. “Do you think there’s anyone in this place that thinks you’re getting fucked right now? Such a sweet, pure girl, aren’t you? You’d never do that.”
Ah, you recognized that pattern. It hadn’t presented itself for quite some time, but you knew it was just a matter of when those tendencies would leave their hibernation phase and come back to attack you. “Kook, I—“
“Shut up, I'm talking,” he sliced your sentence short. “And you got me fooled too, you know? Got me thinking you were such an angel. Turns out you’re just a slut for my cock. That’s why you make me so fucking confused.” His breathing was getting a bit harsher now, staining his speech with his pleasure as he plunged his cock inside your tight pussy. “You volunteered in a church and let me fuck you while you were in it.” Jungkook chuckled — if at those memories or at your distress, you didn’t know — for sure getting a sick kick out of that power trip. “And how many times did you beg me to let you ride me in my car, hm? Because you’re dirty just like that.”
It had been some time since he acted like that, taking his time to tease you in more ways than one. There was something inherent to his ego that loved doing that to you, loved watching your face unravel into that delicious, lustful mixture of shame and pleasure as he poked that fake good girl act of yours until it was deflating, showing him your real self. Jungkook was swimming in dopamine by the time that you choked out his name, those pretty moans and whines of yours reverberating like a melody inside his skull.
“But I like it like this,” he continued, lost in thought. His thrusts were getting a bit faster now, but not even close to what you needed. “Like when you let me fuck you the way I want; when I use you just like this,” he moaned under his breath. “Like when you choke on my cock. When you beg for me to let you cum, shit,” he cursed. “Makes me wanna fuck you ‘til you’re crying, baby.”
Jungkook adored the lustful mist that covered your eyes, your brain scrambling to say something in return, to beg him to give you more. “K-Kook…”
“Don’t ask, I’m not going faster now,” he interrupted you, his voice a firm and merciless attack. There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to you, not when you were practically shaking under his body. “But you get what I mean? When I say that you make me so confused.” He breathed out. “Because you’re so sweet, but you’re such a fucking slut too.”
You blinked back the tears, but they still came. “I’m not…”
“No?” Once again, he didn’t let you finish. There was something wicked reverberating in the back of his tone as he leaned in closer to you, his hand pulling on the belt to pull your back towards his front. “Then why did you rush up here when I told you I wanted to fuck you?” He mumbled against your ear, punctuating his sentence with another lethargic roll of his hips. His cock was hitting deep inside you, not letting any spots pass by untouched. But it was so, so slow. You just needed more. “Why are you dripping down my cock like this? You’re so fucking wet, baby, shit.”
“I… I don’t k-know,” you stuttered. It was hard to think in a position like that.
“I think you do,” he corrected. Jungkook pushed you down against the mattress as he moved back; the absence of his warmth stabbing you right in the heart. “What do you think they’d say? All these people in the party; all those friends you care so much about.” He was rough as he yanked on the belt, making your body tilt back, cock sinking inside your pussy. You sobbed at the feeling, every thought departing from your mind as he started to quicken his pace, using his makeshift bondage to pull you back against him. “If they knew you were being fucked like this? So fucking tight and warm around my cock.”
You shook your head, eyes burning as the tears ran down your cheeks, soaking the pillow. You couldn’t handle being edged and, as much as he was giving you something to work with, it simply wasn’t enough. “Please, I don’t know.“
“Think about it, then. And get back to me later.” He smiled at your despair, the neediness of your tone egging him on. Jungkook was talking to you like he was giving you homework, and not like his cock was buried inside your cunt. “You’re gonna make me cum now, okay?”
And maybe there is a heaven above, because your prayers had just been answered. “O-Okay,” you accepted, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.
Jungkook didn’t disappoint. All that he needed were a few instants to set his pace, drilling into you as your body turned into jello beneath him. He was everything you could feel — his hand pulling you back by the belt on your wrists, the grip he had on your waist, the crash of his hips against your ass over and over. It seemed that Jungkook had accumulated all his stamina to surpass that breaking point, and now he was letting it all go as he fucked you hard, fast, just the way he liked it.
The sounds that were coming from him were a lewd symphony, airy moans and rough curses falling on top of each other as his cock continued to split you open. “God, princess. Wanna fuck you forever,” he breathed out, lost in his own thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”
You sobbed at the feeling, turning your face so you could muffle your loud moans against the pillow. Jungkook didn’t appreciate that one bit, since he was pulling on your hair right after, making you turn your mouth away from the soft fabric.
“No, you’re gonna let me hear you,” he growled. Jungkook was getting lost in the way you felt around him, wrapping around his cock so perfectly that he felt as if he couldn’t even breathe. “God, you feel so fucking tight,” he told you, voice almost silenced by the loud sound of his hips meeting yours. You could only thank the DJ for putting the music so loud, otherwise the noise of the bed hitting the wall would be painfully obvious. “Just sucking me right in, fuck. Gonna make me cum like this.”
Amongst your catastrophic thoughts, you found what you were looking for. “Inside, p-please,” was all that you could ask before another string of whimpers fell from your lips.
His cock throbbed inside you at your request. You knew that he was close and, yet, he wanted to push your limits a bit further. “Ask again and I’ll think about it.” He smiled.
Why he was such a little shit would forever remain a mystery — one that you weren’t trying to crack, at least not at such a critical point of the night. “P-Please, Kook, fill me up,” you stuttered.
“Fuck. That’s my girl,” he moaned, breathless. Jungkook looked down to see the way his cock sunk inside your pussy, your walls sucking him right in, so tight and slippery that he felt as if he couldn’t hold it for much longer. “Gonna give you everything, baby. So fucking good for me.”
It was those pretty sounds you were making — it always were — that pushed him over the edge, his cock throbbing inside you with every new wave of cum that left him. He cursed and grunted at the feeling, fucking you hard as he prolonged his high. Soon enough, though, Jungkook reached his limit, letting go of your wrists so he could lean closer to you. His cock was starting to soften, but it slipped even deeper inside you at the new angle, making you wince.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered. He knew that you hadn’t cum, but he was more than ready to deal with that. “Baby,” Jungkook called, his voice sounding so spent against your ear. He placed a small kiss on your neck, relishing in the way your pussy clenched around him. You were so sensitive, so responsive. It was so sweet. “Turn around for me.”
You nodded, still overwhelmed. Jungkook moved back and removed his cock from your heat, helping you into that new position.
It took a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough you were laying down on your back, legs spread out and pushed up. “Kook,” you called softly. Jungkook found your teary eyes straight away. “My hands are hurting like this.”
He reached out for one pillow, placing it underneath your ass. The new angle relieved the pressure on your wrists instantly. “Better, baby?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, following his movements as he placed himself between your thighs once more. Apparently you two would end the same way you started — how poetic. “What are you gonna do?”
“What do you think? Gonna clean you up,” Jungkook said, his previous attitude nowhere to be found. His expression was much more tender as he leaned closer to your heat, one hand tentatively brushing up your thigh, and towards your center. “You made such a mess, princess.”
“Me?” You echoed. You wanted to look at him, but the new angle of your hips didn’t allow you to see more than his black hair between your legs. “Your fault.”
He chuckled at that — apparently he didn’t mind your bratty demeanor now. “My fault? How evil of you,” Jungkook teased. Two of his fingers separated your folds, a deep groan resounding inside his chest as he noticed the white liquid dripping out of you. “God, love seeing your pussy filled with my cum.”
You gasped as you felt his digits brushing on your entrance. You were already so sensitive, basically dangling on the edge of your pleasure, and you couldn’t endure any more of his provocations. “Jungkook,” you called,” “please…”
Instead of answering you right away, he tilted his head to the side and pressed a kiss against your skin. He hummed against your thigh, tongue coming out to lick it. He was sucking hickeys onto your flesh, marking his way up towards your pussy as you trembled underneath his touches. “I’m right here.” His fingers sunk inside you, pushing his cum back in and feeling as your walls fluttered around them. Jungkook knew your body like the back of his hand, wasting no time before curling them up in the way he knew you loved it. “That’s it,” he said as you moaned. “Be loud for me.”
“I want your mouth, please,” you cried out.
“Anything you want, baby,” he agreed, moving towards your center. His fingers were still pumping in and out of you when he leaned in and licked your clit, earning a broken sob from your part. “Be a good girl and cum on my tongue for me. Make me proud.”
You nodded eagerly, even if you weren’t completely sure he had seen it. Jungkook was now completely zeroed-in on the sight of your pussy, his pouty lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it slightly. A sharp, loud moan left you as his tongue prodded out against the sensitive nub, his saliva mixing with your arousal as he played with your clit.
“Oh— Oh my god,” you whined, hands struggling against the belt. You wanted to run your hands through his messy hair, and wanted to pull on it as he ate you out — you knew he liked it just as much when you did that, always moaning after you did so. But there was nothing you could do but be at Jungkook's mercy, following his lethargic pace as his muscle swirled around your bundle of nerves again and again, threatening to unleash the pleasure accumulating inside you. “I’m c-close.”
He moaned against your pussy, removing his fingers from your heat and moving downwards. He had his mouth toying with your entrance soon after, tongue entering you and licking you clean, just like he promised. The sounds you were making were incredibly loud and extremely shameful, making your face heat up as your orgasm floated just beyond your reach.
“J-Jungkook,” you stuttered, hips raising upwards faithlessly. Still, his hand came to keep them in place, pushing your legs up so he could eat you out better. He licked you as if you were his favorite meal, groaning against you as your pussy dripped down his face. All that it took you was one glimpse down at him, combined with the light pressure of his thumb against your clit, to get you unraveling on his tongue, a final wave of arousal gushing out of you. “Fuck, Jungkook— fuck, fuck…”
During times like those, Jungkook was patient, letting you ride out your high for as long as you needed, humping his face as you called out his name, until you were spent. He groaned when you started wincing away from his touches, sinking into your taste and giving you a few final licks before stopping.
He raised his head. “Back to me, baby,” he requested.
You were trembling a little, body still on edge as he swirled you around to untie you. You sighed in relief as he removed the belt from your wrists, watching as thin lines appeared on your skin. Luckily, it wasn’t noticeable. “Was I good?" You asked, turning around so you could lay on your back once again.
Jungkook smiled at the dazed, fucked-out look you presented him; the airiness of your tone. “Perfect,” he answered, one hand cupping your cheek, “my girl’s always perfect.”
He pulled you into another kiss — a much more gentle one this time, much slower. You sighed, soaking in the way his tongue caressed yours; his nose just slightly bumping into yours as he leaned his head to the side. Jungkook’s fingers were tender against your skin, brushing your hair back as he laid down next to you, mouths still connected.
It was only after a few more seconds that he pulled away, looking you deep in the eyes. “You okay?”
You nodded, your nose brushing on his from the close proximity. “I’m a bit sore, but I’ll be fine,” you replied. “I can’t believe we’ve done it on someone else’s bed.”
Jungkook scoffed. “Again: we’ve done it in worse places.”
“I know,” you whined, closing your eyes at the memory. Or rather, memories. Plural. You were totally going to hell at that point. “I don’t know if I should be relieved about that or not.”
“Don’t think too much about it,” he said, stealing another small kiss from your lips before placing his face on the curve of your neck. He basked in your warmth, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. “Just enjoy the moment.”
Jungkook was called by you like a bee by the most beautiful flower in the garden, his muscles relaxing as your fingers played with the soft curls of his hair. You sighed, eyeing the gentle movements of your hand on his scalp. “Wanna tell me what got you so mad now?” You tried.
He took some time to clean out his mind, pulling back so he could look at you better. “I wasn’t mad, I was just…” he hesitated for a second. It was one of those moments that he wasn’t sure that you’d like to hear the complete truth, so he settled for asking back something that had been corroding his insides for a while now. “Can you tell me something? And be honest about it.”
You agreed, taking the hand that was playing with his hair to brush his cheek. “Sure, what is it?”
If he thought that approaching you was difficult, it simply could not compare to the Herculean task that was to speak his worries out loud. It was as if part of him didn’t want to know the answer, as if that could unlock too many possibilities for him to deal with. Yet, against the heaviness that expanded inside his chest, Jungkook managed to ask you, “Have you been seeing anyone else?”
His question came out as a low mumble, words slurred together. There was a second of silence before you found your voice. “No… I only went out on a few dates with Jimin, but it was just, like, a week-long thing. And that was some time ago,” you said.
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“And you?” you asked back.
“Have you been seeing anyone else?”
“Ah.” He paused. “No, haven’t been with anyone else in some time.”
It was your turn to fight through the hesitation, against all the demons inside your head begging you to let that subject evaporate, to turn into nothing before it held the power to hurt you. “Why… Why do you ask?”
There was no change in his expression, so you had absolutely no clue what was going on behind his solemn stare. “I was just thinking about it,” he responded. “No particular reason.”
“Jungkook,” you reprimanded, “don’t bullshit me.”
He sighed, allowing for his gaze to navigate around the room — anywhere but you. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he accepted. His focus had now shifted to the way his hand was caressing your waist, a thoughtless, automatic action he had grown so used to. “This might sound stupid, but I don’t want you see you with anyone else.”
It took you one long, nightmarish moment to find your voice, one in which Jungkook was sure he had fucked up big time. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes, but he felt the way your body grew tense underneath his fingertips. “Jeon Jungkook,” you spoke slowly, but there was a blissful sound to your voice that relaxed him instantly. “Are you jealous?”
He shrugged, speaking under his breath. “Maybe I am.”
Against all odds, you pinched his cheek. That got him looking at you with sheer confusion — you guessed that had never happened before, considering that he looked as docile as a starving wolf. “Aw, you can be cute when you want to, who would’ve guessed?” You teased. “Guess we’ve been kind of going exclusive for a while, though. So there’s nothing to worry about.”
Jungkook nodded. He liked the sound of that. “Guess we have.”
You smiled. “Sounds kinda weird, doesn’t it? How we’ve gotten to this point.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s a nice weird.”
“I think so too,” you told him.
Jungkook sighed and leaned in, putting his face between your chin and your breasts. When he spoke up again, his voice came out muffled on your skin, vibrating against your clavicles. “Wish I could see you more, though,” he admitted.
“Yeah, that sucks. I wish so too.” You exhaled heavily, searching around your skull for any miraculous way to solve that situation. There was nothing, sadly. “We’ll figure something out, we always do. Sure you don’t wanna get back into immuno?”
“Do you hate me that much?” He laughed. “No, one semester was more than enough. I’ve paid for all my sins at this point.”
“I seriously doubt that.” You sensed his body relax against yours as your fingers continued to play with his hair. “You had already started a second one, though.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s because my tutor is kind of a hottie and I needed an excuse to be around her,” Jungkook told you, his inked hand still tracing soft circles on your skin. There was a faint booming of the party beyond those walls, mixed with the ebullient chatter of a hundred strangers, but he was all that you could focus on. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” you agreed. After a second of silence, you spoke up again. “I think we should probably get going, by the way. It’s late and Yongsun will start to worry.”
Jungkook nodded even if, when he pulled back, he appeared to be extremely disappointed at the idea. “Yep, gotta pay her back for giving you that dress,” he said. “You want a ride home? I haven’t been drinking.”
You raised your eyebrows. “That’s news.”
“You arrived before I got the chance to,” he explained.
“Now that makes more sense,” you recognized. Jungkook in a social situation not drinking? You should call someone to investigate that. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, though. Haven’t we done enough risky business for the night?”
Luckily, Jungkook had already predicted that exact argument. “It’s not gonna be suspicious, and I don’t want you getting an Uber alone so late.”
“Aw. Look at you being all worried about me,” you joked, reaching out to pinch his cheek again. This time, however, Jungkook was faster, holding your wrist in place.
“Don’t,” he warned, letting your hand go. “You’re gonna make me change my mind if you keep that sappy shit up.”
“Doubt it,” you teased, leaning in to place a kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to follow your touch, but you had already pulled back so you could speak. “You’re right, though. I’ll accept your offer.”
“What an honor,” he said, monotone.
“I know it is,” you told him. Jungkook took his chance and nuzzled his face closer, his nose hitting yours just slightly. “We should get dressed now.”
“Hmmm… yeah, we probably should…” he trailed off, one hand resting on the nape of your neck. His dark eyes were zeroed in on your lips, a hazy cloud of desire over them. “Just one more kiss.”
You laughed. “Fine. One more.”
If you were (un)lucky enough, there was a lot that could happen in one single night. And, apparently, that was precisely what the universe had in store for you.
After definitely more than one kiss, the two of you agreed to meet each other downstairs, following the same plan as before — you’d leave first, and Jungkook would wait a few minutes before going to the living room. Everything seemed to be working fine — as promised, no one was even acknowledging your presence, much more interested in the absurd story that Hoseok was yelling about — and the two of you were almost out the front door when it happened.
“Fucking finally!” Taehyung raised his arms aggressively, scaring a girl that was walking nearby and almost knocking her cup over. Still, he seemed to be completely ignorant to it as he cheerfully walked towards you two, his attention stuck on Jungkook. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere, man! What did you get yourself into?”
Jungkook held out one hand, not allowing his friend to come any closer to the two of you. “Dude, you stink,” he complained, nose scrunching up. In fact, Taehyung looked and smelled as if he had decided to dumpster dive for the night. You had no idea what happened at Hoseok’s parties and, at that point, you were afraid to find out. “Back the fuck off.”
Taehyung pointed at him, narrowing his eyes. He was so clearly (and comically) drunk that for a second you thought he was acting. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case. “You should be more polite, Jeon, I pay for the roof over your head,” he threatened. Jungkook was about to say something in return when Taehyung noticed your presence, a ditzy, uneven smile stretching over his features. “___! Hey! What’s good? What are you doing at a party?”
You limited yourself to a polite smile in return. “How are you, Taehyung?” you asked. “I’m just leaving, actually.”
“I’m giving her a ride,” Jungkook started, “It’s too late and—“
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved one hand in front of him, disregarding his explanation. “I’m riding shotgun. Called it.”
You let Jungkook and Taehyung lead the way towards the car, feeling strangely small underneath the enormous expanse of the night sky. The world outside Hoseok’s house was a quiet and desolate one, barely allowing for the sounds of your steps to be heard past the cool nocturnal breeze. If there was something you knew about Jungkook was that there were no moments of peace when you were with him, so the fact that you had such a tranquil instant for yourself probably wasn’t a good thing.
As the car doors were shut and the three of you were inside the moving vehicle, you couldn’t help but feel like you had a grenade in your lap, just waiting to explode. Jungkook had mentioned that Taehyung not only had his suspicions as he was actively searching for answers — unlike your friends, that limited themselves to small and fruitless sessions of interrogation, Taehyung had taken upon himself to solve that mystery. By some divine miracle, he apparently hadn’t asked any of your friends, since you were pretty sure that Yongsun would be quick to connect the dots.
But now that you were trapped in a car with him, drunk or not, the stakes seemed to be dangerously high.
“Soooo, ____.” He slapped Jungkook’s shoulder twice, ignoring the string of curses that left him. “How has it been teaching good old JK here?”
“Not as bad as most people would think.” You smiled, hoping that there were no nervous edges in your voice. It was funny to see Taehyung so drunk: he was always so serious during your ethics classes, it was an odd contrast. “He’s not terrible.”
Taehyung laughed and lightly punched him on the shoulder. Jungkook barely reacted, instead focusing on the road that expanded before him. “Look at that, that’s a first,” he teased. “Did someone finally manage to tame you?”
“Shut up, dude. You don’t pay for my gas and I won’t hesitate to kick you out of this car,” Jungkook warned.
Taehyung looked back at you. “Are you sure he isn’t that bad?”
“He has his moments, but I can deal with it.” You stood your ground, but quickly switched the subject. “But what’s going on with you, Taehyung? Haven’t talked to you in some time.”
You two never really talked, if you were to be honest, but even your shallow, small talk before class had melted away. You’d blame that on yourself, since you were taking that extra time to review for your upcoming exams, and there were just other people in class that you were closer to (and would rather talk to). Also, well, since you found out that he lived with Jungkook, you thought it would be wiser to keep your distance.
“Oh, yeah, lots of tests, lots of projects.” He waved, clearly disregarding those things. “Drinking to forget most of them.”
You nodded. “Makes sense, my friend was in the same situation and—“
“By the way!” Taehyung interrupted you with a high-pitched scream, almost choking himself with his seatbelt when he turned back to look at you. Your mouth hung open for a second, unsure of what to do. “You can help me with something.”
It took you an instant of silence to recover from that. “With... what?” You hesitated.
He smiled widely, turning back around. You found Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror, and the frown on his face didn’t let you relax. “You see, I’ve been… investigating something, you could say.” Taehyung cleared his throat. You had no idea what happened inside his mind when he was drunk, but you’d guess that he was living his CSI fantasy a bit too hard. “I’m a pre-law student, love crimes, you know the deal. So I wanted to use my knowledge for good.”
“Okay…? But I don’t know how I’d be able to help you investigate anything,” you told him, measuring your words. You felt as if there was electricity buzzing inside the car, sending small shocks of anticipation throughout your skin. Part of you thought that it was better to ask — it would be more suspicious not to. “What is it, by the way?”
Taehyung turned back around, locking eyes with you. “I’m trying to figure out who Jungkook has been sleeping with.”
You almost choked on your own saliva — you didn’t expect him to be that direct. But that was your own innocence getting in your way, considering Taehyung’s track record of being completely shameless. “I’m sorry?” You asked.
Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t notice anything strange about your shock. “Right? He has this secret date or whatever that completely fucks him up.” He laughed, reaching out one hand to touch Jungkook’s shoulder. The driver shifted on his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “The guy here is all smiles and fluffy shit when he comes back and—“
He groaned. “Taehyung, shut the fuck up, I swear to god I’ll knock you out.”
“—And I just need to know who’s doing that to him, you know?” He completed, face completely serene as if he wasn’t just threatened with physical violence.
You blinked once, twice, trying to figure out what to say. Moments like those made you wish you were playing a game and that dialogue options would simply appear in front of you. “And you want my help with what?” Was what you chose to go for.
Taehyung looked at you like you were an idiot. “That’s obvious. Do you know who it could be? I asked like everyone on campus and no one has a clue.”
“Everyone?” You echoed, heartbeat quickening.
“Practically everyone.” He shrugged. “By the way, your friend Jisoo is very rude.”
Jungkook scoffed. “You’re telling me.”
“You asked Jisoo?” you asked before you could hold back, a blanket of panic softly falling over you. That couldn’t be good. If she didn’t notice a pattern already, it was just a matter of time before she did. You could only pray that her denial was stronger. “So do you, like, have any leads?”
“I might be onto something.” Taehyung looked out of the window, following the movement of the light poles next to the car. Thankfully you had already entered your neighborhood, because you didn’t think you’d be able to handle much more of that before letting something slip. It wasn’t even as if Taehyung was some interrogation mastermind, you were just under pressure and he was being far too intense about it. “Maybe you could help.”
“I don’t know anything, sorry,” you told him, firm. You met Jungkook’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, and you didn’t understand the emotion you saw in them. You looked away. “Jungkook and I don’t really discuss these kinds of things. I’m just tutoring him — or, rather, was. We don’t talk that much anymore.”
Jungkook decided to step in and help you. “Yeah, Taehyung, give it a break. You’re drunk.”
“Moderately tipsy.” He raised one finger, staring Jungkook down for a second before turning around. You had reached the very obvious conclusion that Taehyung was a complete nuisance when it came to alcohol. “Will you tell me if you find something out?”
“I don’t think it’s very healthy to be this obsessed with your friend’s sex life,” you deflected.
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s more than his sex life, obviously,” he told you, stealing a glimpse at his friend. The yellow lights of the street melted over Jungkook’s features, deepening his frown even further. “Some things are just so crazy that we can’t let it pass. I would never guess that I’d live long enough to see Jungkook here being so wh—“
“We’re here,” Jungkook said. The car abruptly slowed down, with him pressing down on the breaks a little too suddenly — mostly because he had been distracted and almost drove past your apartment building. Your body leaned forwards, the seatbelt pressing on your chest as the vehicle finally stopped.
“I almost hit my head, dude, fuck,” Taehyung complained.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. “I wished you would, I’ll try harder next time,” he told him before turning around to meet your gaze. “You good?”
You could see it in his expression that he wasn’t just asking about the sudden break, but also about the strange conversation you had been thrown in. “I’m fine, thanks for the ride.” You removed your seatbelt, rushing to open the door. The cold breeze of the night swiftly expanded inside the vehicle, the vague scent of petrichor filling your nose. “It was nice seeing you guys.”
“Likewise.” Taehyung nodded, following you with his eyes as you stepped out of the car. “See you! Let me know if you find something.”
“Sure,” you could only agree, because you couldn’t take any more of his insistence. “Bye, Taehyung.” You leaned down so you could look past his window. “Bye, Jungkook.”
Jungkook raised his hand. “Bye.”
Taehyung waited until you were too far away from the car to be able to listen, turning around with a silly smile on his face. “She’s nice, I get why you liked tutoring so much.”
Which might have been the last drop that made Jungkook’s cup overflow. “Man, you’re such a fucking dumbass,” he cursed, staring his roomate down. “How fucking bored so you have to be to keep asking this shit to everyone? Can’t you see that you’re making everyone uncomfortable as fuck?”
His friend, however, remained completely unaffected. “This could be avoided if you just told me who it is. It’s all your fault, honestly.”
Jungkook shook his head. “Why do you gaslight people when you’re drunk, dude? Go to therapy.”
Taehyung crossed his arms. “Don’t change the subject.”
But Jungkook wasn’t planning on discussing any subject at all, instead letting his focus gravitate towards you.
It seemed as if Jisoo was right about one thing: what Jungkook wanted to happen, would happen. The good, the bad, and the ugly — and, like some Monkey’s Paw situation, he got his wish granted. Someone was about to find out about your little secret.
Taehyung shifted around on his seat, annoyed that the car hadn’t continued to move. He glanced at Jungkook, who was leaning over the wheel and looking at you through the passenger’s window. Taehyung traced after his stare and then returned to his friend. “So, what are you waiting for?” He asked. “I wanna get home already, I’m super hungry.”
“Yeah, yeah, chill,” Jungkook disregarded. When the door to the building closed behind you, he leaned back and found Taehyung’s inquisitive gaze dancing around his features. “Just checking if she’s getting in safe.”
Taehyung scoffed. “Since when do you worry about something like that?” He crossed his arms. A shadow of doubt crossed his face as the car pulled away from the sidewalk. “And how do you know where she lives?”
Jungkook shrugged. “She told me back at the party.”
“I never heard her say that,” he said.
He didn’t bat an eye. “It was before we even found you.”
But Taehyung wasn’t relenting. “Yeah, but you never asked for directions during the time you were driving, like you already knew the way.” He turned around on his seat and looked past the window, as if there was some secret message written in the night sky. Something was close to clicking inside his head — he was too intoxicated to know what exactly, but he knew there was something. “Have you been here before?”
“No, dude, I already said that ___ told me where she lives and how to get here.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. The way he was gripping tightly to the wheel betrayed his faux-nonchalance, but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to any of that. “Can you let that go? Jesus.”
And probably if Taehyung was sober, he would have done just that. But the fact that he was intoxicated out of his mind probably helped the opening of his third eye — and, suddenly, he saw the truth: the dark clouds dissipating and shedding a deep, incontestable light onto that entire situation.
His first words came out at a low volume, whispered and measured as if he couldn’t understand them for a moment, “No... No fucking way.” Taehyung took one hand to his mouth as the puzzle pieces fell into place inside his brain. When he spoke up again, he was practically yelling. “No! What the fuck?! No! Oh my fucking god?”
Jungkook groaned, trying to understand what his friend was even going on about. Part of him already grasped it, he was just in denial. “Shut up, dude, you’re so loud,” he complained.
However, his roommate wasn’t in the right mindspace to listen to the voice of reason. Taehyung continued to shift around for a bit, his widened eyes roaming over the street that stretched before the two of them; his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He was trying to make sense of his eureka moment, which wasn’t half as glamorous as the TV shows made it out to be. “That’s the girl?” He finally got that question out, and it hit him like a frying pan directly to the face. Taehyung was so deep in his own spiral that he didn’t even notice the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fingers loosening their grip on the wheel. “That’s the— Open the window, I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re the most exaggerated person I know,” Jungkook mumbled, but still slid down the window. Just to be sure. “Shut up. That’s not her.”
Taehyung gasped at that, inhaling the gelid nocturnal air. Not even that seemed to calm him down, though. “It is! You’re a terrible liar! What the fuck?!” He pointed at Jungkook as the car slowed down, pausing at a stop light. “Since when?”
The breaks screeched a little before the vehicle stopped moving, and even that sound left Jungkook on edge. The traffic lights above him were mocking him, the bright red dot showing him that he was just as trapped as he felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told him.
Problem was: Jungkook really wasn’t that good of a liar, especially when it involved Taehyung. After so many years of friendship, the other saw right through him.
All that Taehyung needed was to narrow his eyes and repeat himself — this time in a much calmer, lower volume. “Since when?”
And Jungkook folded. “I… don’t know the exact time. It’s been over six months.”
The volume of his voice shot back up instantly. “Over six— You have to be kidding me!” Taehyung’s synapses were working as if he had just injected fifteen liters of caffeine directly inside his veins; a crazy look plastered all over his face and a minor twitch on one of his eyelids. He wasn’t sober enough to control himself, so his thoughts just came falling off his mouth with no coherency. “___?! How the— How the fuck? Why? What the—“
“You can’t tell anyone about it,” Jungkook interrupted. He couldn’t even look at him, he was feeling awful — not because he cared about it, but because he knew you did. And if you found out that he had shared your secret with someone, well… that could be a big issue.
“How can I not?” Taehyung asked, bewildered. “I’m losing my mind over here, I have to share it with the world.”
“Taehyung. Not. A. Word,” Jungkook stressed, finally meeting his stare. Even drunk, Taehyung could interpret him better than anyone else in the world. “Do you fucking hear me? This isn’t funny, shithead.”
The other man paused for a second, his eyes stuck on his. “Shit, man.” Taehyung breathed out, practically whispering. If he thought his previous eureka moment was hard to deal with, the second one was so unrealistic that he almost started to laugh. “You’re fucking whipped.”
Jungkook turned away. “I’m not.”
“You are!” He insisted, pitch rising back up. As if that entire dialogue wasn’t a roller coaster on itself, his voice was following the same pattern. “And, oh my god, that actually makes so much sense? You would never study so much in your life. I was so stupid not to see the obvious clues before my eyes!” He laughed at that, thinking that he was both the smartest and dumbest man in the world. “That’s so cool. I’m happy that you’re in lo—“
“Shut up.” This time, his voice came out much firmer, frigid as the winds that howled around the neighborhood. The light turned green, and Jungkook didn’t even have the reflex to move straight away. “That’s enough, Taehyung, seriously. I’m not fucking around.”
His serious and controlled tone worked like a tranquilizing dart being shot straight at his roommate — Taehyung knew better than to keep provoking Jungkook when he was showing that cold type of anger. “Sorry, man.” His shoulders fell, all that pump of adrenaline leaving his body as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m just… surprised.”
“Well, yeah.” He pursed his lips, slowly pressing down on the gas pedal. “Can’t say I saw that coming either.”
“Fuck.” Taehyung shook his head as if it would be enough to wake him up from that bizarre dream he was having. “I never thought I’d see you all lovey-dovey and worried like this. It’s kind of adorable, really. You’re down bad, dude.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not down bad.”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. It seemed that the booze shot his superiority complex as high as the moon. “I’ve known you for, what, thirteen years? I know you better than your own mom at this point. Hate to break it to you, man, but you’re as whipped as they come.”
And it hurt to hear that, because Jungkook knew it was true. Perhaps it was time to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook was head over heels for you. He just needed to be sure that you felt the same before he fucked everything up — more than he already did, at that. “Yeah, whatever.” He breathed out. That couldn’t be good. “Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll break your face.”
“I won’t. Promise.” His friend raised his palm in a silent oath, another hand to his heart. Still, Jungkook wasn’t buying it and, if that started to spread, he knew he’d be in deep shit with you. As if Taehyung was reading his thoughts, he said, “But you know you can’t hide this forever, right? Eventually people are going to find out, even if I don’t say a word.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook sighed, unsure if he was talking about the situation, or about that warm, hesitant emotion blossoming like a flower just behind his sternum — which was getting harder and harder to ignore. “Yeah, I know I can’t.”
TRESE - Netflix Anime series based on the Philippine graphic novel created by Budjette Tan and KaJO Baldisimo.
The six-episode horror-thriller series follows Alexandra Trese, Manila’s lakan babaylan, or guardian and healer. She acts as the bridge between the worlds of humanity and the supernatural, enforcing the accords that were set to keep balance between the two worlds. It’s a violent and gritty show that modernizes Filipino bedtime stories, and puts a fantasy gloss over the socioeconomic, political, and ultimately moral complexities of Manila, and the Philippines as a whole.
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which the two of you finally make it official.
— contents and warnings; gross fluff, a bit of angst, smut, badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies to lovers, honestly emotionally constipated idiots to lovers, so much mutual pining, cinematic parallels, cute dates, a spark of jealousy/possiveness (mostly playful), the return of car sex, dirty talk, breast play, dom!jk x sub!reader, fingering, spitting, oral (female receiving), cum eating, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!), a fuckton of praise kink bc jk is going through it, another glimpse into the demon that lives inside the oc lol, begging, mentions of marking (hickeys), creampie, cockwarming (you already know), jk is whipped and he’s not even hiding it anymore, it’s official ladies!!!
— words; 18,4k
— author’s notes; here we are, champs!!! The moments of glory 😭 There are a lot of things being wrapped up in here so we can move onto the more interesting stuff, but there are also some points that will be brought up further down the line, so don’t worry! Everything will be explored in its rightful moment. Have fun at the eye of the hurricane y’all 🤠
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe. As a young kid, you were first introduced to optical illusions after spending the day at your friend’s house — and, even after so many years, you still recalled your amazement and confusion; your expectant yelps and annoyed glances at his computer screen. Considering your age, it was normal to be bewildered at the notion that your senses and perceptions, which once seemed so concrete, could fool you just as easily as anything else.
Mayhaps you were a few thousand years late in your genius discovery, taking into account that ancient philosophers had already discussed and established all that; perhaps your young brain wasn’t all that smart to construct those notions with such complexity. But the point wasn’t that: it was that the world in front of you was a matter of perspective, of finding the truth behind the curtain of your own interpretation. Sometimes you thought that two lines were the same size when they were not; that dots seemed to be moving when they were still; that two completely different shades of grey were actually the same all along. And you had to adapt to that.
Life went on and, in a way, you always kept that in the back of your head — not about bright-colored illusions on a computer screen, of course, but about people. No matter how much you think you know someone, you never know their full truth (after all, most people barely know themselves, so perhaps it’s a bit too conceited to believe that you know another individual). It’s nothing new to claim that people can surprise you, either positively or negatively and, in your head, trying to predict that was the smallest resemblance of control you could achieve. So you learned to read them as well as you could and never ever created expectations. To you, trust issues were a tiny price to pay for staying one step ahead from a heartbreak.
That being said, even the best of strategists still make mistakes — apparently no one ever learned not to invade Russia during the winter — and even the strongest walls can still show cracks in its foundation. Ironically, you had predicted it all, followed your life to the most minimal details, but could not avoid the large, powerful wave that hit your fortress head-first, knocking most of your preconceived notions down the moment you found someone that you couldn’t read.
In a way, Jungkook was the most confusing optical illusion that you had ever come across.
The thrilling and unforeseen ups and downs of your situationship with Jungkook were often hard to follow, but you still tried your best to do so. From the start he was inconsistent — hot and cold, harsh and tender; always left you seeking for more at the same time you tried to push him away. Every time you’d attempt to read him, imagine the thoughts that unfolded behind his dark eyes, you’d fall flat on your face. Every time you thought you were starting to understand him, he’d hit you with a curveball that would throw you in a loop. It was strange how you thought that you knew him so well, probably better than most people, and yet not well at all.
In usual unpredictable fashion, Jungkook had called you earlier that day, right after you had just finished washing the dishes, with a proposal you never saw coming. It was a peaceful, chilly morning and, besides the sharp sound of your phone ringing, only the faint chirping of birds could be heard coming from the half-open window. Yongsun was sitting on the couch, her focus swimming in the ink of her newest thriller novel, and she didn’t notice the way your eyes widened when you picked up the phone and heard what he had to say.
“Morning, princess,” Jungkook greeted, jumping straight to the point. “Are you free? Wanna go out with you.”
“Today?” You asked, leaning your lower back against the cool counter. His choice of words was peculiar: go out. He had never used that before or, at least, not with such a casual tone.
“Yeah,” he agreed promptly. “If you have plans we can try another day. But it’s sunny and I didn’t wanna miss my shot.”
You cleared your throat, glimpsing out the window as if to check that it was, in fact, sunny. Your brain was out of excuses and the silence coming from the other side of the line was too loud, so you had no choice but to give in to the wills of your heart. “Hm. Yeah, sure,” you told him. “We can go out today.”
“Great,” Jungkook beamed. “I’ll pick you up at one, baby. See you.”
And that was it. Before you could think about asking more details about his plans, the line was cut and you were left staring at your phone screen like an absolute idiot, trying to digest what just had happened. Go out. What a weird thing to say. It sounded like a date.
Yongsun perked her head up like a meerkat, turning around on the couch so she could get a better look at you. “So…” she started, a smile already curling up on her lips. Her book was practically forgotten now, laying beside her, the page that she had been reading now flimsily marked by one of her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’m guessing you have plans.”
“I might have,” you responded nonchalantly, locking your phone and placing it on the counter. When was the last time Jungkook asked you out? Even when he took you out for lunch or something, the request was always laced with second intentions. That sounded so odd. “Why?”
She shrugged. Yongsun had been particularly interested in your romantic affairs ever since that night at Hoseok’s party, teasing you at every chance she got. She was curious, that much you knew, but you guessed that she was also a bit worried about all those secrets. Regardless, if that was the case, her cheerful tone did not let it show. “Oh, nothing, I just think it’s cute that you’re going out with the mystery man.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Has he asked for your hand in marriage yet?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like that,” you guaranteed.
“Keep lying to yourself, girl,” she sang, waving her hand in a sign of dismissal. Yongsun had a strong tendency to romanticize things, and you were the opposite: one of your biggest flaws was that you over-rationalized things, found excuses and justifications where there were none. At that moment, both things were taking place, and her voice was like a demon whispering inside your head, making you consider her perspective. “Is he coming to pick you up?” Her smile only grew as you nodded. “Fantastic.”
Like she had found what she had been searching for, Yongsun plopped back on the couch and returned to her book. Unbeknownst to her, you knew exactly what she was inferring — your gaze already navigating towards the large window across from you, and the open view it gave to the street below your apartment complex. If she wanted to, she could figure out who it was just by looking down and catching a glimpse of him.
Strangely enough, the idea didn’t bother you as much as it once had.
Part of you believed that, when Yongsun went to her spiritual retreat/cult, she ended up being cursed with a hundred years of bad luck. Besides being ten times more clumsy than usual, she was having more difficulty in class and almost every single time she tried to shower, the hot water would run out halfway through. That morning, she also was unlucky enough to be knocked out on the couch (courtesy of her post-lunch sleepiness) at the exact moment that Jungkook picked you up, missing one of her two chances of catching a glimpse of him.
About one hour and a half later, her messages arrived in a furious and merciless wave, so constant that you had to silence your phone, turning the screen around and against your thigh so her flood of complaints and curses wouldn’t distract you from the beautiful scenery that blossomed all around the car. At the annoying rush of dinging sounds, however, Jungkook glimpsed at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that about?” He asked, the previous subject long forgotten.
You shook your head, gazing out of the window. The tall trees passed in a dazzling blur, expanding as far as your eyes could see. “Nothing much,” you told him, voice mingling with the vague tune playing in his car, and the tender gushing of the fresh wind. “Yongsun is having a bad day, that’s all.”
“Don’t you wanna see if she’s, like, about to die or something?”
You breathed out, thinking for a moment. “Hmm… not really. She’ll be fine.”
Jungkook laughed. “What a terrible friend you are.”
You leaned your head on your palm, elbow supported on the car door, staring him up and down. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he admitted, “I just thought it could be funny to see her losing her mind.”
“Yongsun rarely loses her mind,” you counter-argumented. That was more of a Jisoo thing, honestly. You were about to say that when a little demon landed on your shoulder, reaching forward and whispering an evil idea to you. Usually it was Jungkook that wanted to stir up some shit when things were too calm between you two, but, that day, you felt like switching the roles in the name of karma. “But if you’re so curious about my messages… you know who texted me earlier today?”
He glanced at you, curious. “Who?”
It was getting hard not to smile. “Jimin,” you said, noticing how his hands tightened around the wheel for a millisecond. If you weren’t looking for it, you would’ve never noticed it. “He asked me out on a date.”
Okay, half truth: it wasn’t that same day, it was two days before. But it was much more dramatic to put it that way.
“And?” Jungkook pressed on.
You couldn’t hold it anymore, laughing at his serious expression. “And I’m telling you that because I knew you’d be fuming, you dumbass.” You pushed his shoulder playfully. “You know I don’t like him like that.”
“Ha.” He said, flat. “I’m not fuming.”
“Aw come on.” You smiled. You were staring at him now, following the kaleidoscopic bursts of sunlight on his face as he focused on the road before him. The sun dripped amongst the leaves, mingling with the shadows of his features and dancing in his long black hair as it swirled in the faint breeze. Jungkook had mentioned he was thinking about dyeing it, but you liked the way it looked now. You’d like it anyway. “Don’t clench your jaw, that’s bad for your teeth,” you teased, tapping on his chin. “Told him I’m not interested, though. I had said that before, but I guess he was trying again.” You breathed out. “So I said that I was already seeing someone else. That worked.”
That comment managed to relax him straight away. “You just wanted to see me jealous? What for?”
“Payback,” you claimed, triumphant. “Though that is kind of toxic behavior so it ends here. I just needed it for karmic balance.”
“The fuck?” he asked. “Payback for what?”
You pouted. “Oh, you’re so innocent, aren’t you?” you teased him, doing the unspeakable and reaching out to pinch his cheek. Jungkook slapped your hand away before you managed to do that, but you still counted his annoyance as a victory. “I can see the halo over your head and everything… the birds are chirping… the purest soul around.”
Jungkook groaned, pushing his body back against the driver’s seat. “Shut up, my god,” he complained. One of his hands left the wheel and landed on the inside of your thigh; the warmness of his skin shooting fireworks inside your chest. “I asked you a question.”
With a playful hum hanging on the tip of your tongue, you turned around, one arm leaning on the center console. “Wait, you thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to make me jealous that one day in the library?” You asked, watching as the hamster inside Jungkook’s head started running on its wheel, trying to find the memory he was looking for. “The one that Jisoo asked you two to shut up.”
His eyebrows shot up at the realization. “Ah. Yeah. That was funny.” He laughed, glimpsing at you. That road seemed to be endless, with only Jungkook’s car in it. You didn’t remember when was the last time you saw someone else around, but it was a rather peaceful moment. Just the two of you against the world. “Didn’t know it had worked.”
“I never said that.”
“It wouldn’t be a payback if it hadn’t.” He smirked, cocky, squeezing your inner thigh. Touché. “She was my lab partner. That’s it. I don't even remember her name.”
You made a tisk sound. “And you were leading her on… how cruel.”
Jungkook raised his hand from your thigh, pointing a finger at you. “It wasn’t like that, I’m naturally flirty.”
“No, you’re naturally irritating,” you corrected, grabbing his hand and putting it back in place. He squeezed your flesh once again, humming at your words. “Shameless, also. Nasty most of the time—”
He scoffed. “You flatter me, princess.”
“—But not flirty,” you completed.
“Come on, baby, I’m totally flirty,” he wouldn’t relent so easily, especially when his ego was dangerously close to getting bruised. “I flirted with you.”
You crossed your arms, looking him up and down. “You called me names and fucked me in a church.”
“Right? And you don’t call that being flirty? It clearly worked,” Jungkook threw back, not an ounce of self-awareness in his arrogant tone. “Also, don’t mention the church thing as if you didn’t beg me to do it.”
“Not the point.”
“Exactly the point,” he pressed on, stealing a glance at your irritated expression. It wasn’t for real, of course — most times when you two argued now, it was more of a playful thing than a serious back and forth. Jungkook couldn’t pinpoint when that change had occurred, but it was nice. “You’re equally irritating, shameless, and nasty. Sometimes more than me. You just confuse people about it.”
“I’m not!” you said, knowing very well that you were lying.
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Yeah, sure. If that helps you feel better, I can roleplay.” He paused. “Actually, I can do that in different contexts too.”
You poked his cheek, completely ignoring his last comment. It wasn’t the time to unpack that. “You got jealous though,” you teased.
He frowned. “Change the subject now.”
Considering you had already gotten your desired reaction, you decided to give him a (temporary) break. “Fine.” You sighed, sitting back. The breeze coming from outside was a gentle caress on your face, bringing the faint smell of flowers. “So… where are we going, exactly?”
“It’s, like, the fifth time you’re asking,” Jungkook groaned.
“And you still haven’t answered,” you said. “I’ll keep asking unless you do, you know that.”
He breathed out, finally cracking. Jungkook looked at his watch, realizing that the two of you would reach your destination rather soon, anyways, so he could stop with the suspense for now. “I wanna take you on a proper date. I’m tired of sneaking around.” He cleared his throat, eyes glued to the road. He suddenly felt very nervous. “It’s like… four cities away from campus, near the beach. No one you know will see us, probably. Is that alright?”
Out of the possible reactions he has conjured in his head, he didn’t expect you to burst out laughing. “I love that you ask me that when we’re already two hours deep into this road trip,” you teased. “But yeah. Sounds great, actually. I can’t believe you have good ideas every once in a while.”
Jungkook frowned. “You’re really asking for me to turn this car around, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” you beamed. “You’re trapped with me for the rest of the day now.”
Once upon a time, that would sound like a nightmare to you — months back, when the two of you barely talked, and you prayed that he would text you a sleazy excuse and not show up to any future tutoring sessions. Months back, when you were still in denial that there was a person underneath all that trouble, all those sly smirks and witty, bitter remarks.
Weeks back when you still pretended you weren’t in love with him.
Ever since you (finally) accepted the fact that you had zero control over your emotions towards Jungkook, things had become both easier and harder to deal with. It was easy being with him — just playing with his hair and listening to him talk; kissing him; driving and talking about nothing. But it was a war inside your head: now every shared laughter hurt a bit more, every touch left you a little on edge. The falling-for-the-bad-boy fiasco was embarrassing in itself, but falling for someone who didn’t feel the same would be absolutely dreadful. Especially now that you couldn’t remember how your life was before he had showed up and turned it upside down.
As if he was reading your mind, Jungkook responded, “That doesn’t sound so bad at all, princess.”
Jungkook parked his car near a very beautiful square, which was a sharp difference considering the places the two of you used to frequent — or, rather, hide in. In your mind, it was surreal that you were actually on a date with the boy, being shamelessly out-there about a scenario that once terrified you so deeply. Honestly, the chances that you’d run into someone you knew (several cities away from campus, with summer break just around the corner and finals piling up) were slim, but not zero.
However, you couldn’t care about it when Jungkook opened your door and took your hand in his. “You know what’s fucking insane?” He asked abruptly, pressing you against the side of the vehicle. His palm was warm against yours, just like the world around you. You never really liked summer that much, but you were starting to change your mind. “We’ve done so much, but we never just walked around holding hands.”
You chuckled — putting it like that, yeah, the two of you were doing everything backwards. “Guess we never had the chance,” you said. “But there’s a first time for everything.”
He breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. You once thought that doing that in public would be horrendous, but now, all you could feel were the butterflies in your stomach. “Hopefully,” he said. “Now, let’s go. I wanna show you around.”
Just like all-things-Jungkook, he still managed to surprise you after so long. Even with his tough exterior and cold stares, he ended up being a big advocate for public displays of affection. Jungkook could not let go of you even if his life depended on it, it seemed — always touching you in some way, playing with your fingers; or with his arm around your shoulders; a gentle kiss against your temple as you walked down the streets. If you stopped and thought about it, traveling through the land of memories, you could see some stark signs that his love language might be leaning more towards physical touch. You just thought it was something he did during intimate moments, and not all the time.
Frankly, you weren’t complaining, but you were taking some time to get used to it. During your previous relationship — a five-months-long catastrophe in your final year of high school — you realized that you weren’t super keen on being all touchy-feely, which was the spark for a few immature arguments back in the day. Years passed and you were more open when it came to Jungkook now, but there was still something that held you back a little, that didn’t let you relax all the way when he pulled you into a random hug, or stopped in the middle of his sentence so he could steal a kiss from your lips.
Also like all-things-Jungkook, you guessed it was just a matter of time before you got used to it.
About two hours after you two had arrived at that city, you managed to drag Jungkook towards a big, absurdly old-looking bookstore, ignoring his complaints as your eyes darted over the books in its interior.
“It looks so cool, don’t you think?” You asked, finding his reflection on the glass. It was a funny contrast between the two of you — the pastel tones of your blouse and skirt battling against the dark shades of his pants, his boots, his tattoos. It just wasn’t worse because Jungkook had miraculously chosen a white shirt that day, otherwise you’d think that the two of you were from completely different worlds. “I bet they have some super old stuff.”
Jungkook sighed. “You wanna go in, don’t you?” He asked, traces of annoyance at the back of his tone.
“I might,” you said, turning your head to look at him. Lucky you (and unlucky Jungkook), you already had your puppy eyes locked and loaded. “Will you hate me?”
He sighed heavily, his bored stare flickering between your face and the dust accumulating inside the store. You didn’t even know the sacrifices he made for you. “Impossible,” Jungkook responded, “go before I change my mind.”
You smooched his cheek. “Thank you!”
Okay, maybe you were getting used to those public displays of affection already.
The place smelled musty, as expected, and there was a thick layer of dust floating in the air; an allergy ready to strike. Against what it’s great exterior showed, the inside of the store was actually really small and packed with books, with you and Jungkook almost knocking a few piles over every time you turned a corner — nothing but another optical illusion to add to your list.
Surprisingly enough, Jungkook didn’t complain as much as you had expected — instead limiting himself to a few grunts and scoffs as he looked through the endless lines of old, decaying books. Most of the time he kept it to himself, always maintaining you in his peripheral vision as you jumped from one story to the other.
At some point, his arms wrapped around you, chest flushed against your back as he placed his head on your shoulder, looking down at the book in your hands. Jungkook smelled of coffee and cigarettes, his warmth was all that you could feel. “That looks old and boring,” he complained, nuzzling his nose against your neck. You hoped he didn’t feel the goosebumps spreading through your skin. “Want me to get it for you?”
“No, I was just looking,” you told him, leaning back against his chest automatically. “I already have this book back at home, it’s really nice. I just never saw the first edition before. I don’t need another one.”
Jungkook hummed, one hand reaching to turn it around so he could look at the cover — Clockwork Orange. He had heard that name before somewhere, probably another literature quiz he copied the answers for in high school. “You sure? Because it’s the third time you’re picking it up,” he said. You sighed, probably conjuring an excuse inside your mind, but he knew you better than that. He didn’t let you finish, tugging it away from your hands. “I’m getting it for you. And don’t whine about it.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but you realized you were going to whine about it. In the end, Jungkook bought you that book, which earned him both another kiss on the cheek and a very annoyed look from you. He couldn’t understand you sometimes.
“I think you’d like it, actually. It’ll fuel your anarchist spirit,” you told him when the two of you were already back on the sidewalks, your wandering eyes peeking at the bag in your hands. “Give it a shot one of these days.”
Jungkook scoffed. “I don’t remember when was the last time I read for fun.” He paused. “Or ever.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t start doing it now. Summer is long, you’ll get bored eventually,” you counter-argumented, but he didn’t seem like he was going to crack. You pouted, pressing your shoulder against his. “Please? For me?”
Now, that was kind of a low hit. But it worked. “You’re pushing my limits here, princess,” he warned.
But you weren’t relenting. “Please? It’s not even that long anyways.”
Jungkook didn’t know what it was, but he was especially pliant when it came to your requests that day (lie: he knew exactly why). “Fine,” he groaned. “But I’ll complain the entire time.”
You smiled. “Deal.”
After walking around the town some more, the two of you eventually settled in a small diner near the beachside. The place was adorable, in typical 50’s style, and you two were one of the few people there — saved for three loud-speaking old men, and an overly-energetic family of five. Jungkook knew you liked to sit by the window, so he found the perfect spot in no time, which you appreciated endlessly.
Subjects came and went, your food gradually vanished from your plates and, before you could tell, the day was showing signs of ending. Golden hour had arrived, bleeding past the widows and onto the diner’s floor; the buzzing of the town seemed to diminish considerably before rush hour.
At some point, though, you noticed that Jungkook got distracted, his stare faltering and his mouth falling shut, lips pressed against one another. He was pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he always did when he was trapped deep inside his mind. You reached out, placing your hands over his. “Jungkook,” you called, squeezing his fingers. He blinked his way back into reality, meeting your eyes straight away. With the bright sun coming from the dusty window, his irises had decayed into a clearer shade of brown. “What are you thinking about? You look constipated.”
He scoffed. “You look constipated most of the time and I don’t comment about it.”
“You do, thought.” You stared at him. “And don’t avoid my question.”
With a sigh, he leaned back against his seat, gaze flickering to your hands. Jungkook moved his around until your fingers were intertwined. “It’s like…” he hesitated, “Wish we could do this stuff back on campus. Go out or whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Like, out.”
There were traces of hurt in his tone that made you deflate, your heart skipping inside your chest. You had been thinking about it for some time, in different degrees of seriousness: about making it public, about not caring so much about what others thought. It was easier said than done, however, and the effects of your accumulated cowardice were corroding you like kerosene from the inside. “Yeah, I was thinking about that too,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. You knew the dark patterns on his skin by memory, your fingers so used to trailing it. You were never into tattoos before you met him. “We could tell them, you know,”
He blinked, taken aback. “Who?”
You shrugged, still unable to meet his stare. “Everyone, anyone. I don’t know.”
“You’re cool with that?” He asked, hesitant.
You sighed, looking out of the window. Mental barriers can feel so physical sometimes, how strange. “It’s not that I’m… cool with it,” you told him. That would take a bit more adaptation. “I’m just tired of hiding.”
Jungkook nodded. It was reassuring to know that you were on the same page on that, even if he had reached it a few months back. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, then found his thoughts coming to a sudden halt, hitting something else. There was a little bug of anxiety crawling in his insides for months now, biting down on his insecurities. He had never had trouble keeping secrets (in his mind, people didn’t need to know jackshit about his personal life), but, in a way, he had the hardest time keeping them from you. Especially when they could hurt you too.
“What is it?” you asked, because he knew you would. “You’re distracted again.”
Putting everything into perspective, his so-called secret wasn’t that bad, but, in his head, it was apocalypse-inducing. Jungkook hadn’t had the guts to tell you about his roommate's new discovery, fearing that you would lash out at him for being unable to keep it under the covers or, worse, fearing that you would blame him, accusing him of doing it on purpose to hurt you. He had created that tricky situation himself: if he had told you straight away, maybe it wouldn’t look so suspicious. But now that so long had passed, it was likely that you’d see that as an admission of his guilt.
Once again: Jungkook was never the type to overthink, to assume the worst possible scenario when it came to such simple, mundane things. But when it came to the idea of losing you, he couldn’t help it.
Still, he tried, deciding that your earlier comment about making it public was the closer he’d ever get to an opening. “There’s something you should probably know,” he started, fighting against the knot in his throat. “Just… don’t get pissed.”
You frowned. “What is it?”
And here goes nothing, he thought. “Taehyung knows.”
You hesitated. Jungkook could practically see the cogs in your head turning, synapses working to make sense of that new, random piece of information. As previously stated, he expected you to start yelling at him, maybe accusing him of betraying your trust, but, instead, what came out of your mouth was a soft-spoken question. “You... told him? When?”
Jungkook shifted around on his seat, catching a glimpse of the happy family by your side — three overly-energetic kids fighting for the pack of sauce, and their parents trying to figure that battle out and end it with the least possible casualties. “Not exactly,” he admitted, looking back at you. “He kind of figured it out by himself. Back at the party. And I couldn’t lie about it, he knows me too well.”
You nodded slowly, licking your lips. It was weird: how Jungkook could predict you extremely well at times and, at others, he completely missed the mark — which, thinking about it, was what had made him grow so interested in you. Maybe he wasn’t the only optical illusion around. “And… how did that turn out?” you wanted to know.
A puff of air left his nostrils as he recalled that fateful night. “He was in shock for like a week. It was pretty funny, actually, he wouldn't stop talking about it,” Jungkook told you. He had endured weeks of his roommate's meltdowns, floating between the need to talk to you, and the absolute horror of doing so. Taehyung had never been super at ease with you — he thought you were way too intense about stuff — and, after everything clicked in his head and he recalled the fact that you had tied Jungkook up, he didn’t want anything to do with you. Especially considering that he knew something he shouldn’t. “But he’s chill about it. I already made sure that he’s not gonna tell anyone. I don’t think anyone would believe him either.”
In a way, Jungkook himself couldn’t believe it sometimes. Looking across the table now, watching as the orange sun caressed your cheeks, he was once again reminded of how different the two of you were. You were full of soft, round edges and pretty smiles; delicate fingers that seemed so unlike his own, calloused ones. He didn’t know why you were still around, didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky for so long.
At his words, though, you frowned. “Tell me you didn’t threaten him with physical violence.”
“Okay.” Jungkook smirked. He had just pressed Taehyung against the wall, no biggie. He’d recover. “I won’t tell you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Funny.”
“I’m hilarious, actually. You just don’t appreciate me enough.”
“Try giving me something to appreciate, then.” You paused, realizing your mistake the exact time that a glint of mischievousness appeared in his eyes. You raised one finger, slightly desperate. “Actually, no, shut up. Don’t say it. There are families in this diner.”
Jungkook groaned. “Come on, baby, there is no way you can just say that and not expect a dirty joke.”
“It was my fault for creating expectations, sorry.” You decided to shut yourself up with a large gulp of your drink. The sweet taste had just entered your mouth when you recalled something else. “Hm!” You exclaimed, rushing to swallow your milkshake. “I have some good news, by the way.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”
“I’m entering a new research project,” when you first spoke those words out loud, you were already expecting the expression of confusion and disgust that covered his face. You raised one hand, stopping him. “Spare me your comments, that’s only half of it.”
He leaned his head to the side. “And the part that interests me is...?”
You cleared your throat — suddenly, it felt a bit harder to speak. “Well... remember how you said that it would be hard to stay away for the entirety of summer break?” You recalled. Jungkook almost flinched at the memory — it was something he had confessed by mistake, provoked by the peaceful afterglow of his orgasm, and the gentle caresses of your fingers in his hair. You weren’t supposed to actually take that seriously, how embarrassing. “I’ll have to spend at least three to four extra weeks here, because I have to compile and organize a lot of data. Maybe more if I need to.”
Actually, it was nice that you took that seriously — he changed his mind.
“That’s… almost a month,” he mumbled, struggling to make sense of that new, fantastic piece of information.
You nodded, taking another slip. Most of it had melted already, but it was still good. “Yeah, it’s a good amount of time, don’t you think?”
It’s a fucking dream come true. “Sounds like it.”
You looked down at your milkshake, already almost at the bottom of the cup. The straw swirled around the cream once, twice, your distracted gaze mingling with the hum that fell from your throat. “After that I’m going home, though,” you told him, unaware that his heart had just decided to give him a free trial of arrhythmia. Talk about emotional rollercoasters. “And I’ll probably come back one week before class starts.”
One month with you, almost two months apart — felt like both an amazing and a horrible deal, like Jungkook was about to sign a contract and sell his soul to the devil. Fame and riches during life, but eternal damnation in death. “I could visit you,” he offered, hopeful.
You waved your hand, disregarding his words with a gentle smile on your face. “Don’t be silly, my hometown is like five hours away. And that’s during a good traffic day.”
Jungkook would make the trip every single day if you asked him to. But he didn’t want to push. “Yeah,” he deflated. “That’s silly.”
“Besides,” you continued, “I don’t think we’re in the meet the parents stage yet.”
Yet? Wait, were you in any stage at all? Jungkook found himself a little dumbfounded at your comment, trying his best to fit it into reality. “I’m great with parents,” he blurted out, finding the disbelief in your semblance. He thought it would be better to change the subject before he fucked up big time. “You’re not bullshitting me about that summer thing, are you? I’ll have you all to myself for that long?”
“Yeah, Yongsun will leave soon after the first week. She’s spending the summer at her rich aunt’s house.” And she actually asked you to go along, but you denied. Half because of the research project, half because of him. But he didn’t need to know that. “So you can come over whenever.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Sleep over?”
Yes, please. “If you want.” You shrugged, nonchalant. The Oscars were missing out on your acting skills. “And you, are you planning on visiting your parents during summer?”
You wondered if it was a good idea to bring that up. Jungkook had mentioned that he didn’t have the best relationship with his family — they didn’t hate each other, but didn’t get along super well either. Like pieces of different puzzles thrown together, trying to fit. Regardless of how much you tried to get to know that part of his life, he usually changed the topic before you could do so, avoidant. You didn’t even think he’d answer that question.
Jungkook cleared his throat. “Maybe. I’m thinking sometime around the end of summer break. I did that last time and it worked,” he said. “I’ll probably spend that middle part with Taehyung. He’s loaded and his house has a guest bedroom.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled. “I'm actually amazing with parents too.”
Jungkook caught onto your provocation instantly — smirk already curling up on his lips — but his answer was an honest one. “Oh, no, I’m sure about it.” He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? I can see you all bonding already. They’ll make me an orphan and adopt you instead.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you said. “And I hope you have fun with Taehyung. It’s nice that you two are so close — and for so long too. Not everyone has a friendship like that.”
Frowning, he thought about what you said. Jungkook had never stopped to see it like that, Taehyung was always such a constant person in his life that he almost took him for granted. “Yeah, it’s crazy…” he drifted off. “He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. It’s weird.”
You squeezed his hand before his mind could wander too far away from that diner. “Well, now you know how I feel when I’m with you.” You smiled. “Sometimes you tell me things that are so accurate that it scares me.”
A puff of air escaped his nose, stare oscillating to your intertwined fingers. “I just pay attention, that’s all,” he mumbled.
“I know you do,” you told him, tilting your head to the side. Your hand was so warm and soft in his that he never wanted to let it go. “Kook?”
He glanced up. “Yeah, baby?”
“Just remembered something,” you started. “What was the place you wanted to take me to?”
Took him a couple seconds to shuffle around in his mind for that piece of information. Jungkook was so enthralled by your presence that he had frankly forgotten his previous plans for the day. At the realization, though, he looked out of the dusty diner window, eyes following the silhouettes of the strangers outside. “Ah, yeah, it’s almost time,” he said. “I’m glad you asked. Let’s go.”
The food had already been paid for, so the two of you were outside in no time. The temperature had dropped a little ever since you walked into the diner, courtesy of the scorching sun going down, but there was still a nice warm atmosphere surrounding your bodies. There was a faint buzzing of cicadas in the distance and the air smelled sweet, a mixture of ten different food places at once.
“You look cute,” he said abruptly, steps slowing down. “Wanna kiss you.”
You giggled. “Thank you, and you can just kiss me, you know? No need to warn me.”
Jungkook clicked his tongue, changing his direction without saying another word. Lucky for him, there was an alleyway right ahead, so all he had to do was to turn the corner to have you pressed against the wall.
“Is this where you wanted to take me?” You teased, head leaning to the side as he caged your body with his. Your wandering hands slid up the sides of his arms, fingers tracing the black ink on his skin. “Doesn’t seem very romantic.”
He hummed, large hands landing on your hips. “Needed to make a quick stop.” He leaned in, lips brushing like feathers against yours. Your breath hitched in expectation, heartbeat thundering inside your chest. “Give me a minute.”
Kissing Jungkook was pure muscle memory at that point. You didn’t even have to think when his lips met yours, hands flying to his shoulders as his strong arms wrapped around your waist; his large figure pressing you against the brick wall. It was almost poetic how you two had become so accustomed to each other’s mannerisms, like the fact that you knew he’d lean his head to the right side before he did, or that he would take one hand to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. He sighed against the kiss, a pleased hum erupting from his chest as he placed his tongue inside your mouth.
You pushed him away with a silly smile on your face, his nose bumping on yours. “Don’t make a scene, we’re in public.”
Jungkook smirked, taking in everything about you. He could’ve never guessed the two of you would get that far, but, at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful for it. “Shut up, princess, that’s the good part about it,” he said before diving back in.
The first step to solving a problem is acknowledging you have one — and you had already come to terms with the fact that your blockage when it came to what other people thought of you wasn’t only ruining the great moments you had (or could have had) with Jungkook, but it was also holding you back in general.
If you stopped to think about it, you knew why that happened: you were projecting. It was easier to place your own insecurities and setbacks onto others, because then you could blame an external force for your own losses. It had never been about telling others, it was about admitting to yourself that maybe you had lost control over key parts in your life, maybe you were crazy about a person that you once saw as the lowest of the low. And that he was good to you, that he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you.
The whole Taehyung fiasco was more of a pleasant outcome than a traumatic one — much to yours and Jungkook’s surprise. It was a shift in your foundation, a crack in the base of your preconceived notions that made you take a step back and analyze your situation all over again. Against what your chaotic, reptile brain had predicted, the world didn’t end when someone found out about you and Jungkook — actually, it stayed exactly the same. You didn’t know if it was just because you had not been directly exposed to it, or if it was because it was someone you didn’t have that much contact with, but it was just… fine. You were fine.
That small spark catalyzed a flame of bravery inside your chest: maybe one day you could tell your friends, family, and to hell about what they thought about it. Because you liked (loved) Jungkook and that was enough. Because when he looked at you like he was looking like then, nothing else mattered. Because things would be fine.
“Thank you for today,” you spoke, leaning onto the wooden fence that surrounded the pier. The sunset was a big pink and red bruise on the sky, painting the calm waves with deep shades of orange. The smell of the sea was overwhelming, cleaning you from the inside out. Jungkook had planned to take you there at sunset, and his timing had been perfect. “I loved it. Really.”
Stil, you felt paralyzed, like you couldn’t really act out your desires. You wanted to tell everyone (which, on itself, was already a big jump from where you were a few months back), you wanted to kiss him openly and tell him that you loved him, and you wanted everything to be simple, easy, happy — fine. And maybe it would be. But the abysmal fall that you could take if everything went down the drain prevented you from taking that leap of faith.
Being with Jungkook was easy, but falling for him clearly was not.
“Me too,” he responded, eyes lost in the horizon. “It’s always nice being with you, especially when you don’t annoy me every five seconds.”
You scoffed. “Took the words straight out of my mouth.”
He smiled, looking at you. “Why are you so quiet, by the way?”
Uneasy, you shrugged. Jungkook had shot you right in the chest and was looking at you with gunpowder on his fingers, asking you what happened — why you were acting that way, so mild-mannered when you could barely keep your mouth shut before all that. Truth was, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to talk like before without completely ruining it. Without speaking too much, and ending up confessing about those annoying butterflies that were madly hitting the walls of your stomach.
“Just enjoying the view,” you said.
He hummed, pulling you closer. “So am I.”
But he was still looking at you.
You thought that Jungkook felt the same — perhaps not as strongly, not as deeply, but he did. You didn’t miss the way that he held you, the worried messages he sent you when you vanished for a few days, absorbed by your own world and its ephemeral worries. You thought that accepting your feelings would be the hardest part, but it didn’t even come close to the horror of sharing them, of speaking that truth into the universe and dealing with the consequences of it. So you didn’t.
And yet you had to say something.
As his arm tightened around you, you melted into his embrace, your head placed snugly against his broad chest. Jungkook’s heartbeat was slow against your ear, calming you down and mingling with the crashing of the waves. “Kook?” You called, voice soft like a whisper.
He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Mmh?”
You angled your head up, meeting his gaze. There was a warm sensation on your cheeks that you couldn’t get rid of. “I really like you, you know,” you said.
Those words left you with much more ease than you had expected — not broken, mumbled or hidden. Just a clear, diaphanous truth dripping from your lips and curling around the air. It hit Jungkook right in the heart, wrapping around his soul and nestling inside his chest.
He didn’t think he needed to respond, because he thought that it was quite obvious he felt the same, but he did it regardless. “I really like you too, baby.” He placed a kiss on your lips. If he could, he would never stop kissing you, but there was something he needed to ask. “Can I take you somewhere else tonight?”
It wasn’t that. But he’d manage it eventually.
“As long as you don’t kill me and throw my body in a ditch, sure,” you joked.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s, like, third date material.” Jungkook kissed you again, unable to hold himself back. You giggled against his lips, the sound so pretty that he almost wanted to curse at the sunset for even trying to be more divine than you. He leaned back. “But for real. Can I?”
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Yeah, sure.”
“We should get back, then,” he said. “We have a few hours ahead of us.”
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe.
Back in high school, Jungkook had a special difficulty when it came to maths — not because he didn’t get it, but because he didn’t practice. He snoozed through most of his classes, cheated his way to the end of the year, and didn’t bother opening his book. His mathematics knowledge was a polychromatic blurr at the dark corners of his head, a car zooming past too fast for him to actually read the license plate. In the middle of it all, however, there was one specific question that never left him alone.
It was a simple logic problem — so simple, in fact, that his impulsive brain underestimated it. The question was direct, one of many alternatives that he should classify as true or false: a triangle has two sides, it said. Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckled to himself, and kept reading the test after he had marked it as false.
Taehyung, who somehow managed to be great at maths studying just as much as his friend, explained to Jungkook later that he was thinking about it all wrong. It was true, because if a triangle has three sides, it is logically correct to say it has two. If it has three, it also has two. It made sense, but it fucked up his worldview forever.
He swallowed dry, looking at you by his side. Your fingers were intertwined in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as you went on about the weird conversation you had in the last gas station you two stopped in. He wasn’t paying much attention, though. As the cool, blue-ish lights of the tunnel melted over your face, his mind was sent somewhere else, going back and forth like a ping-pong ball.
Following his previous, math-guided trail of thought, his earlier confession wasn’t false: if Jungkook was in love with you, he also liked you. If he had three sides, he also had two. But he still felt like was omitting the truth.
He took your hand and moved it closer to his face. With his eyes stuck on the road, measuring the curving motion of the car, he placed a kiss against the back of your hand. Not that he could just drop that confession on your lap. You liked him, but it didn’t mean that you’d take such a thing lightly, especially if you did not feel the same — and the last thing Jungkook wanted was to scare you away when he finally got you so close. Just because you had two sides, didn’t mean that you had three.
You were still talking — Jungkook knew that you were talking; he could hear your saccharine voice reverberating at the corners of his mind, but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the words that left you. He had never been so nervous before.
He had been considering it for some time now — the idea of making it official — and it had been the whole point of asking you out in such a dramatic, impulsive fashion. But when you were right there, with your hand so warm against his and a ghost of a smile on your lips, he couldn’t find the right way to ask you that.
Basically, he had done and said everything he wanted to, but his main plan (which was to ask you to be his girlfriend) was completely disregarded, pushed aside by the trepidation that grew inside his heart. If Taehyung were there, Jungkook was sure he’d be mocking him for the absolute ridiculousness of it all: it seemed that, after every insane thing Jungkook had done in his life, what has finally got him stuck, paralyzed by fear, was you.
Vulnerability was a fire burning deep inside, scorching his pride and collapsing his foundations. It came in small, manageable waves; the gradual raising of temperature so he didn’t realize he was being boiled alive until it was too late. It scared him, really. How emotionally attached he had become to you; how he couldn’t imagine his routine without you somewhere in it. Jungkook wasn’t used to having something (or someone) for so long, never applied himself to anything worthwhile before you.
But he was trying. He swore he was.
Back at the pier, your confession had put him at ease, gave him an injection of courage to try one more time. Jungkook decided to take you to one of his favorite spots in the world — on top of a hill, right at the outskirts of the city, where he could see the world shining below. It was a private place, outside of the main road, and he didn’t remember any other car showing up anytime he had gone there in the past. In his mind, it was the perfect amount of peacefulness after such a long day. And maybe it would help him steady himself as well.
You sighed. “This place is so gorgeous.”
Jungkook nodded, eyes lost somewhere beyond the windshield. Raindrops were covering his vision, surrounding the town like a ghostly halo. It was a beautiful sight, but also melancholic in its own way. “Looks better when it’s not raining, though,” he told you. “I come here with Taehyung sometimes.”
You giggled. “So many words to say that you’re hotboxing out here.”
“Shut up, that’s only sometimes,” Jungkook told you, pushing your shoulder playfully. “Coming up here helps me think even if I don’t hotbox.”
“Yeah I can see why,” you agreed, eyes navigating around the foggy world beyond his windshield. Everything seemed so small from up there, so mundane and manageable. “The rain is nice too.”
He hummed. “I’ll bring you up here again once it’s not raining.”
You nodded, heart jumping at the thought of a next time. “Thank you for showing me this place, Kook. It must be very special to you.”
He chose not to answer that second part, instead reaching out for your hand once more. Jungkook was never particularly keen on holding hands, but, that day, it seemed that he couldn’t get enough of it. Of you. “I’m happy you like it.” Once again, he kissed the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want, baby.”
And so you did.
If a time traveler had told you months back that Jeon Jungkook — of all fucking people — would be the easiest person in the world to talk to, you would’ve probably done something to change your future, because that just couldn’t be a good sign. Still, the universe works in mysterious ways, and you learned to accept its strange peculiarities when it came to the things or people that it decided to shove into your life. Sometimes you have to let go of the wheel to enjoy the drive — figuratively of course.
Somewhere during your mindless conversation, the two of you had moved to the backseat, under the excuse that the trip had been long, and you needed to stretch out your legs. Being in that position, with the two of you side by side and squeezed into that limited space, took you on a small trip into the past — a faint recollection in which, months ago, you were slightly drunk and pouring out your insecurities to him, convincing yourself that there was no meaning behind that shameful spectacle.
You were kind of an idiot when it came to stuff like that, however, and you were just starting to figure that out. No amount of book smarts managed to fight against your denial and the emotional pit of despair you had faced when you thought about having actual intimate moments with Jungkook, and about what they could mean. Months ago, you had convinced yourself that it meant nothing — but, now, with that bird eye’s view, you could tell that it always meant something.
It had always been nice to be with Jungkook, with his smug smirk and the tender touches of his hand on your face, playing with your hair, sliding down your back. It had always been fun, spontaneous, fiery — always something that broke the monotony of your routine and made you have some much-deserved fun. You had spent so long convincing yourself that Jungkook was a bad influence on you that you never even noticed all the good changes he brought into your life.
He had just pulled away from a kiss when your phone vibrated somewhere on the front seat — and it didn’t stop. Against Jungkook’s whiny protests, you fought your way around until you grabbed the device, then collapsed back into your previous position — with his arm around your shoulder and your head against his chest; both of you sat against the door of his car, legs intertwined on the seat.
“It’s just Yongsun asking if I’m alive,” you told him, thumbs jumping over the keys on your phone. Jungkook didn’t know why you were telling him that because he could already see your screen — and the flood of texts that came with it, asking if you’d be home for dinner — but he also wasn’t paying much attention. The whole texting moment reminded him of the earlier conversation you two had, a spark of possessiveness spreading like wildfire inside him. “I’ll drop my location and ask her to come dig up my body later.”
“Funny,” he said, voice flat. He sounded just as distracted as he was, and your ears perked up at that. You were just about to ask him what was bothering him when he told you himself. “No Jimin?”
You turned your head to look at him, locking your phone. Yongsun could wait a little bit longer. “No Jimin,” you told him. Jungkook’s face was expressionless, you had no clue what he was thinking about. “I told you that—“
“Hmmm, yeah, yeah,” he disregarded, shuffling closer to you and removing the phone from your hands, placing it on the floor beside him. His backseat wasn’t the smallest, but it was hard to accommodate both of you — so, it was clear what he wanted you to do. “Heard all that.”
With a bit of maneuvering, you leaned closer to him, still on his side, and threw one leg over his. Your hands were on his chest now, and your skirt has moved up enough so you could feel the side of his thigh pressing against your mound. “So… what’s the issue?” You asked.
He sighed deeply, much more dramatic than he needed to be, and nuzzled his face against your neck. “No issue,” Jungkook mumbled, pressing a light kiss against your skin — only the first one, however, because they started to get progressively harsher, needier, as he moved closer to your face.
You chuckled at his demeanor, surprised at how firm your voice came out. “Don’t believe you.” Your eyes closed as his mouth continued to kiss its way up your neck, tongue playing with your skin, teeth teasing it just slightly. You gasped when he brushed past a particularly sensitive spot, warning a soft grunt from him. “I was just joking earlier, you know, there’s no need to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, princess,” he denied, finally reaching your cheek. Jungkook pulled on your hair so you could lean your head away from him, exposing more of you, and his mouth continued its path closer to your lips. “Not right now.”
“Not now?” You echoed, interested.
He finally found your lips, pecking them only once before pulling away. “Mhm. Not now,” Jungkook agreed, letting go of your hair. Took him a few seconds to speak up again, his mind more focused on the way his other hand slipped between your breasts, squeezing your waist before moving on to your ass. “How can I? When you’re mine.” Jungkook groped your ass, earning a soft whimper from you. “All mine, baby.”
“Says who?” You teased.
There were goosebumps on your legs that Jungkook didn’t miss, his fingers nonchalantly tracing the back of your thighs, adventuring beneath your skirt. “You.” He smirked. His focus seemed to shift constantly, wanting to have all of you at once. Now, his gaze found the curvature of your neck, a pleased noise leaving his throat. “Wanna mark you up, baby. You look so pretty with hickeys.”
You gulped. “Not th—“
“Not there, I know,” he finished, taking his hand to your neck. He didn’t press down, but the sensation of his large fingers wrapping around your throat made your heart skip a beat. If he felt it, he didn’t show any reaction. “I won’t do it. But I wanna.”
There was something dangerous about the husky quality of his tone, the way Jungkook was looking at you like a predator stalking its prey. You bought yourself some time by leaning your head against his arm, skin touching the cold glass of the window. The drumming of the rain was never-ending, the shapes of the droplets reflecting on his serious features. “Why do you want to do that?” You asked softly, measuring his actions.
Something told you that Jungkook was enhancing his reactions a little just to fuck with you (roleplaying, if you will). Yet, something switched inside your brain when he spoke out again. “So people know you’re mine.” His warm palm slithered up your neck, cupping your cheek once again. “So they don’t even try to approach my girl.”
Maybe it was time to admit that you loved when he said stuff like that, exaggerated or not. You wanted it to be true, wanted to be his girl. “Is that why you did it that time?” You asked, unable to fight back against your smile. “Since when are you that possessive?”
Jungkook breathed out, eyes stuck to the shape of your lips; to the way his thumb grazed them once, twice, until you parted them just slightly. “Not my fault you never noticed,” he sounded like he was about to get sidetracked, as if his mind was already focusing on something else. You let him change the subject. “Can you get home late, princess?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a curfew.” You chuckled. “Why?”
“No reason.” He followed as you took his hand in yours, repositioning it until it was resting on your waist. His stare remained there for a little longer, observing the curves of your body, the way your skirt had hiked up almost completely. “Just thinking.”
It was your turn to pull him closer, fingers intertwining in his dark locks. Jungkook leaned into your touch, turning his face around so he could place a kiss against your palm. Maybe your heart melted, but he didn’t have to know that. “You don’t do that very often,” you joked.
He didn’t follow it. “Only about important things,” Jungkook said, the hand that was on your hips now slithering up to your waist. With his other arm still around your shoulder and pressed against the car door, there wasn’t much that he could do, but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted to touch you more, harder, to pull you closer. There was such intensity under his gaze that your stare faltered, instead following the raindrops on the window. “Look at me, princess.” He called and you did. Jungkook sighed, leaning in. “Be good for me, alright?”
Expectant, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips met yours; tongue sliding inside your mouth right away, wasting no time. You knew Jungkook enough to learn how to recognize a few signs — and when he kissed you like that, so sloppy and deep, it meant that he had a one-track mind when it came to making you feel good, and he wouldn’t tiptoe around it too much.
The confirmation for that small hypothesis of yours didn’t take long to arrive. You shuffled closer to him, breasts pressed against his broad chest and one of your legs hooked over his, and Jungkook took that opening as his cue. The arm that was around your shoulder moved to wrap around your waist, pulling your body closer as his other hand slid beneath your skirt, quickly finding what he was looking for.
A desperate little whimper fell from your lips as his fingers pushed your panties aside, gently brushing between your soaked folds, towards your clit. Jungkook swallowed your moans as he started pressing down on your sensitive spot, his tongue playing with yours as your hands held onto the fabric of his white shirt. You could feel the drumming of his heart beneath your fingers, the raggedy quality of his breath as he groaned against your mouth. “Cute,” he mumbled as he pulled away. “Wanna eat you out. Lie down for me.”
There wasn’t one single reality in which you’d deny him. After a small instant of struggling and fumbling around, you got to the position he requested, your upper back leaning against the door and your legs spread out on the seat. Jungkook was seated between them, his palms slithering up your calves, finding support on your knees as he leaned down.
“Have I ever told you how much I love these skirts?” He asked.
You chuckled. “Only a million times.”
He flicked the fabric over, exposing your panties to him. They were white, a perfect color to see the wet mark you had left on them. “Make that a million and one.”
One of your hands pushed his hair away from his face. “I almost can’t wear them anymore, because of these.” You pointed down.
Yeah, he had seen those already. His cock throbbed inside his pants when he saw all the hickeys he had previously left on the insides of your thighs; most of which had already started to fade. You prohibited him from marking you anywhere people could see, and Jungkook kind of liked that a lot more — it was his private spectacle, his skin-deep reminder that you were his, again and again. “So pretty, angel,” he mumbled. “All mine.”
You smiled fondly. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
“Hmmm yeah?” Jungkook pushed his body closer to your heat, trying to find a good position on the backseat. “Don’t know why. You’re such an angel.” He kissed your thigh. “My pretty angel.”
Gently, his tongue came out to lick those marks, teeth biting down on your skin just enough to have you gasping above him. “Don’t tease,” you said — what was supposed to be a warning sounded more like a bargain, considering how airy your voice had become.
“Aw, then it’s no fun.” He pouted, fingers hooking on either side of your panties. One of his hands let the elastic go, a smirk blossoming on his features as it smacked back against your hips. “What do you want, baby? Let me take care of you.”
“Your mouth,” you told him with no hesitation, “and your fingers too.”
Jungkook chuckled, leaning in so he could place a kiss against your mound. You were so on edge that even that managed to evoke a shiver from you. “My girl’s greedy tonight,” he teased, voice deep. “But whatever she wants.” He finally removed your panties, throwing it on the front seat. “That stays with me.”
“Pervert,” you teased.
“For you, maybe,” Jungkook responded, eyes locked on your glistening folds. He separated them just slightly, watching the way your wetness clung onto his fingers, your legs jumping in expectation. “Stay still now, princess.”
You did as he said, nails digging to the leather of the seat as Jungkook aligned himself with your pussy, letting the saliva accumulate in his mouth. You watched in awe as he let it fall, spit mixing with your juices, dripping down all over your pussy. “Told you that you’re nasty,” you said.
Jungkook smirked like a devil, two of his fingers spreading his spit around. “You love it. You’re worse than me.”
You bit your lip. “I’m not.”
“No?” He raised one eyebrow. “You don’t like it messy, princess?”
Before you could respond, two of his fingers sunk in your pussy, shoving a bit of his saliva inside as well. You shivered at the feeling, walls fluttering around him as he started moving them in and out.
Jungkook’s smile only grew, victorious. “That’s what I thought.” He reached closer, breath hitting your pussy as he spoke out. “Stay still.”
His mouth was on you in no time, ripping a loud moan out of you. It wasn’t a mystery that Jungkook had almost an obsession when it came to eating you out, but it always surprised you how eager he was every time he did it, just moaning and grunting against your pussy as if your taste was the best thing he had ever experienced. “F-Fuck,” you cried out, back arching off the leather seat. “Feels s-so good, Kook.”
He lived for your stuttering, raggedy praises; lived for your taste flooding his mouth. His fingers held onto your thighs harder, keeping you in place as he continued to lap around your folds; sucking your clit and teasing your entrance with his fingers before sinking back in. Jungkook was overcome with the need to see you, so he pulled back for a second so he could meet your heavy eyes. “Be louder for me, baby,” he husked. “Wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
You gave him one, feverish nod before he was diving back in; licking you clean like his life depended on it. “J-Jungkook,” you called out, slightly dizzy already. “You’re so good. F-Feels so good.”
In fact, it felt too good. It wasn’t rare for Jungkook to rip your orgasm out of you earlier than expected (which always inflated his ego for days after that), but, that night, you didn’t want it to end so soon. You could already feel the telltale signs of your high approaching and, as tempting as that was, you had different needs in mind.
“Wait, wait.” You pulled on his hair, trying to get his mouth away from you. Jungkook, however, only went harder. “K-Kook, stop.”
At that, you got his attention. He was breathing out heavily when he pulled away, his chin covered with your wetness. “What is it?”
“I…” you hesitated, fighting through the veil of dizziness in your mind. Jungkook thought that it was adorable how you got tongue-tied when you were close to cumming. It was a rare sight — one reserved only for him. “I... wanna cum on your cock.”
That was like a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of you — so overwhelmed, so wet — sounding so innocent when you asked for such a lewd thing. “Yeah?” He moved quickly, pushing his body away from yours so he could tug off his shirt. It fell somewhere behind him as he placed his face on your neck, voice muffled against your skin. “It’s so fucking hard for you, baby.” He squeezed your hips. “Never wanted to be inside you so fucking much.”
“Please,” you asked again, sounding so sweet and needy that Jungkook had to hold himself back from not fucking you right away. “Want you so much it hurts.”
He growled against your flesh. “God, I wanna see you riding my cock so fucking bad,” Jungkook cursed, pressing himself against you. You mewled when you felt his erection on the inside of your thigh; his big cock fueling your lust even more. “Sit on my lap for me, baby.”
Part of you had already guessed he was in that mood. When Jungkook was horny, he wanted to fuck you until you were crying; drilling in and out of you so hard and deep so that he was the only thing you could think about, his name the only thing you could say. But when Jungkook was really horny (as he was that night), there was nothing else in the world that satifistied him more than to watch you fucking yourself on his cock, using him however you wanted until you were sobbing out his name, cumming all over him.
And you weren’t going to complain about that idea either.
With a bit more maneuvering — you had yet to figure out if you enjoyed car sex or not — you finally found yourself sitting on top of his muscular thighs, your palms sliding up his toned arms, towards his chest. It was unfair how Jungkook was hot all around, with his Greek god figure and the black ink dancing in his skin; his messy dark hair and lustful gaze. You were doomed, and he pulled you into a hungry kiss before you could stare any further.
Jungkook’s hands slid up the sides of your body, exploring the smoothness of your skin and dragging your blouse upwards. He groaned against your lips once his palms found the expanse of your breasts, hands squeezing on the flesh. It was annoying that you still had your bra on, but there was something so amazing about the little whimper you let out, about the way your back arched, body moving closer to his touch. You were always so good for him, always ready to give him whatever it was that he asked for. Always so sensitive to his most minimal of touches.
Soon enough, you were breathing hard against his lips, pulling away so you could speak. “I’m so wet, Kook,” you said, your voice a timid whisper. “Just fuck me, please.”
He groaned, squeezing your covered breasts once more. “Fuck, don’t say that,” he cursed out. You were never one to speak like that often so, when you did, he felt as if he needed a moment to compose himself. “You don’t know what that does to me.”
You blinked those pretty eyes of yours at him, seeming so innocent but being anything but. “Why not? it’s true,” you teased, taking one hand beneath your skirt. Jungkook followed the movement, mesmerized, and thought that he was about to pass out when your fingers returned to his field of vision. “Look.” You pouted.
A deep hum dripped past his lips, his hooded eyes watching as your fingers shimmered under the pale moonlight, covered by your arousal. He could feel himself salivating at the sight, wondering why the hell he had stopped eating you out in the first place.
Still, he maintained his cool. Jungkook’s hand wrapped around your wrist, gently guiding your fingers closer to your mouth. “Taste yourself for me, baby,” he requested. His heartbeat was out of control as he witnessed your pouty lips opening up so your fingers could slip inside, the same tongue that he had just been caressing now licking yourself clean. “That’s it. Tastes good, right?” You nodded, fingers still pressed against your tongue. After another second, Jungkook removed your digits from your mouth, but his were already taking their place. “Now mine, baby,” he egged you on.
Of course, you did as he requested, licking and sucking on his fingers until he was satisfied.
Jungkook smirked, looking particularly hypnotized that night. “Good girl,” he praised under his breath, a maniac gaze swimming inside his eyes as he looked up at yours. “Good girls deserve rewards.” Lethargically, he started moving his fingers in and out of your mouth, his cock throbbing inside his pants at the small whimper that came from your throat. He wanted to see you sucking him off, worshiping him until he came all over your face, inside your mouth, on your chest. But what he needed was to be deep inside your pussy. “Want my cock?”
Again, you nodded, moaning around his digits.
“Use your words, angel,” he teased, fingers leaving your mouth once again. Lately, it was rare to witness that cocky, annoying side of his, but, once it showed up, it was just like before. “Let me hear you.”
“Yes, please,” you asked.
He clicked his tongue, lowering his hand. You gasped when his saliva-covered fingers found your clit, circling it slowly. “Ask one more time.” Jungkook was impassive, not reacting to the way you squirmed above him, already so sensitive. “You can do better than that, baby.”
You could never tell if you adored or despised when he got like that. Maybe both. Probably both. “Please, Kook, I want it so bad,” you begged. Through it all, you still had your own cards up your sleeve, some small actions you knew that affected him deeply. So you made good use of them: leaning in and placing a hot kiss against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair. Jungkook groaned against your mouth, his fingers stilling on your clit when you rolled your center against his erection. “Please,” you repeated, voice airy. “Let me ride you.”
How could he possibly say no to that?
“Fuck. Wanna see you bounce on it, baby.” Jungkook leaned back, quickly opening his zipper. You moved away just enough so he could pull his pants and underwear down, his cock stiff against his lower abdomen. “And hold your skirt up for me.”
You pouted. “You don’t want me to take it off?”
Jungkook shook his head, holding you by the chin and pulling you into another heated kiss. He moaned against it once you sat right over his cock, your warm wetness spreading all over him. He pulled away. “You know I love it when you ride me with a skirt on, princess. Looks like a sexy schoolgirl.”
A thousand pecks later, and you found a chance at speaking. “Pervert,” you repeated, smiling against the kiss. “You always do stuff like this.”
He hummed. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like… fuck me with my skirt on,” you started, kissing down his neck, “Cum inside me and make me keep it inside all day. Eat it out of me.” Jungkook grew stiff beneath you, a grunt leaving his chest as you rolled your pussy against his cock one more time. “Cum inside me two, three times in a row.” You giggled. “Do you like stuffing me that much, Kook? Why is that?”
He was obsessed with the idea, actually, just you talking about that was enough to make him dizzy with desire. Maybe it could be all trailed back to his possessive gene, the evil, cocky part of him that wanted to see you full of him, dripping with his cum, his fingerprints all over your body. What started as a simple ego thing — playing with your limits, seeing how far you’d let him go — was now a way for him to get a hold of you, to make you his, even if it was an ephemeral, material thing. And, well, yeah, maybe it was also still an ego thing. Maybe it made him super hard thinking that you were walking around with his cum inside you, dripping down your panties and making a mess all over your pussy.
Instead of saying all that, however, Jungkook simply threw the question right back at you, “Don’t you like it when I do all that?”
“I do,” you admitted straight away, kissing his lips once, twice, barely giving him what he wanted before pulling away. He knew that glint in your eyes, and he had learned to hate it. “Not as much as you, though.”
Still, Jungkook wouldn’t fall for your schemes that night. Sometimes he didn’t mind so much, but, then, he wouldn’t let you take the wheel no matter what. “Liar. You love it,” he threw back, wrapping one hand around his cock, the other propping you up over it. You got the cue instantly, lowering yourself so his crown brushed against your entrance. “What, you think I forgot how wet you get when I cum inside you? When you keep it in?” He smirked at the overwhelmed expression that monopolized your face, the hand on your hips pushing you down on his cock. He knew how to put you back in place, when necessary. “Look at this, I just cleaned you up and you’re already soaked again. So messy, baby.”
You gasped when his tip sunk past your entrance, slowly stretching you out. “K-Kook—“
“Shhh, you got this.” One hand was in your hair, guiding your head closer to him. Weak, you could only follow his pull; feeling as he placed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Slow. Deep inside for me, baby. You got this.”
With a nod, you did as he requested, gradually sinking lower and lower until his big cock filled you to the brim. You moaned out at the feeling, your arms wrapping around his shoulders for support as you tried to get used to it.
Jungkook was breathing heavily then, his large palms cupping your ass, every cell of his body focused on the amazing way you squeezed around him. It was impossible to consider a reality in which you were not made for him, the way you two fit together was too good to be true. “That’s it… Just like that, baby,” he said, trying to fight back his moans. “Move for me?”
The thought of mocking him about his request (considering that Jungkook was a big advocate for cockwarming as a teasing mechanism) crossed your mind, but you brushed it off almost instantly. You couldn’t overlook the need that grew inside you, begging you to fulfill it, to roll your hips against his until you were cumming.
So you did. Took you a few attempts to set a rhythm, body moving up and down as you felt his cock sink inside of you, brushing all your sensitive spots on its way out, then all the way back in. Maybe you should’ve gotten used to it by now, but every time still felt like the first.
“L-Like this?” You asked.
“Faster,” Jungkook breathed out. Maybe your thighs would burn like hell after your rush of adrenaline went away, but you didn’t care too much about it then — you did what he requested, picking up the pace. “Yeah, yeah, just like that. Fuck, that’s my girl.”
You nodded, body overflowing with pleasure as you continued to ride him. That harsh, messy pace was a blessing to him, the way your breasts bounced close to his face pulling his attention instantly.
“Doing so well for me, princess. So fucking perfect for my cock,” Jungkook praised, eyes running all over your body as you squirmed under his touches. There was no one else in his world but you; you and the overwhelming need he had to have your tits on display. He tugged on the hem of your top. “Can I?”
You nodded, raising your arms so Jungkook could slide that piece of clothing off easily. His hands were quick to unclasp your bra, placing it on the seat next to him as he dove in to play with your breasts. “Love your tits, baby, so soft,” his voice was a muffled groan against your skin, tongue poking out against your nipple. “Love your ass.” He squeezed your cheeks, making you roll your hips against his cock harder. “Fucking love when you ride me.”
“K-Kook,” you sobbed, I’m—“
He growled. “Love when you call me that.”
Of course, he loved way more than that. Jungkook was a weak man — point blank, no excuses about it. He was weak about the way your warm walls clenched around his cock; lost himself in the overwhelmed nature of your expression as you rolled your hips down on his length. The world was always so enhanced when he was with you, every sentiment and sensation amplified every time he looked at you.
The first times you fucked, it was just that, and he was fine with that — at the time. But, back then, Jungkook never noticed those small things about you with such clarity: the small puffs of air that escaped between your lips, the way your nails dug to his neck or the way you whined out his name. He never noticed how ridiculously pretty you looked, his personal angel, just losing yourself over and over for him. He liked having you on top because he couldn’t run away from those details even if he tried, so he let them consume him.
The sound of you giggling brought him back straight away, however, his heart fluttering inside his chest. “You’re staring,” you told him.
Jungkook smirked. “Hmmm… am I?” His hand moved your hair away from your face, cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch and his thumb started caressing your skin, feeling the heat beneath his palm. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could remember that forever. “Can you blame me? Look how pretty my girl is.”
“Your girl?” You asked, slightly delirious at that point.
Soon enough, if he had the guts to ask you. “Yeah, all mine,” Jungkook responded, diving into that fantasy for a second — into a parallel universe where all his problems were gone, and you two were everything left in the world. “Come here.” His hand moved to the nape of your neck. “Wanna kiss you.”
And you did, of course, because you were always just so good for him. Jungkook leaned his head to the side, fingers pulling on your hair as you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his tongue to meet yours. Once again, he felt his stomach being filled with that tingling anticipation, lust and tenderness battling inside it, begging for his attention. He couldn’t handle it: you were too much, always had been.
Just like that, some forsaken feelings hit him before he could avoid them, before he could push them away any further. It was always like that: when he couldn’t deal with it, not when you were consuming every cell of his body and he could not ignore the effect you had on him.
Again and again, those words were just ringing inside his head — I love you, I love you, I love you — repeating themselves into a maniac crescendo that drowned out his own thoughts. You were all that he could see, all that he could hear and touch; you were every idea that permeated his mind at that instant, chest overflowing with devotion to a point in which he couldn’t even speak. Especially not that. Not those words.
Not when you were so blissfully ignorant above him, not when the realization made him so fucking terrified that he just wanted to crawl into a ball and hide forever. Jungkook couldn’t grasp his reasoning anymore, he had long lost it. He was made of sheer, unadulterated emotion — a fierce battle between his blossoming love and the horrifying vulnerability unraveling inside his soul, promising to break him apart.
He could not say that. Not now. Not when there was so much at risk. Not when he couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to be his girlfriend in the first place.
So he didn’t — instead, he continued making out with you in a faithless attempt at shutting himself up.
You whined softly against his lips, your hands losing their strength on his shoulders. Your breathing was ragged, shallow; thighs starting to shake on either side of his body. Jungkook knew those signs like no one else, was quick to grip your ass tighter, helping you move.
“Close, baby?” He breathed out, voice raspy, sounding like sin itself. “Gonna cum for me?”
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Y-Yeah. Almost there.”
“Fuck, princess, your pussy’s so tight,” Jungkook cursed, closing his eyes for a second. He was a total goner: nothing could ever compare to the high he got when he was plunged deep inside your heat, breathing the same air as you. When his heart felt so full and so empty at the same time. “You sure you don’t wanna come over? Wanna fuck you all night.”
“C-can’t,” you struggled to get out, “have class in the morning.”
He scoffed. Some things would never change. “How boring.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time maybe don't t-take me out on a Sunday, dumbass.” You tried to sound harsh, but it was impossible to ignore the tight grip you had on his cock as you cried out, movements stilling for just a second before you found the strength inside you to pick the pace back up. “K-Kook,” you stuttered, hooded eyes meeting his own. He loved when you called him that, made his heart burst inside his chest — and if you called him that while you were riding him then… well, then he was a dead man. “I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum for me?” he completed, raising his hips slightly to meet your movements. His cock felt so good inside you, his ragged breaths were all that you could focus on. “Cum all over my cock, baby, wanna feel it.”
There was nothing in the world you wanted more than that. You could feel your pleasure building up more and more inside you, ready to snap, and you simply followed it as you tipped over the edge. Jungkook loved the way you looked, the way you clenched around him, the way you cried out his name like a prayer when your body finally gave out and you came around his hard cock. He could replay that moment in his mind forever and never get tired of it.
It was by a miracle and the strong support of his hands on your hips that you didn’t just collapse against his chest, instead managing to keep a semi-constant pace on his cock — much slower, however. “Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned under his breath, his dark eyes running all over your body, trying to absorb everything about you: the bouncing of your breasts, the shaking of your thighs, the pretty frown on your features. “So good for me, baby, you always take my cock so well. My good girl.”
You nodded, still slightly dazed-out after your orgasm. Jungkook lived for moments like that, to see how fucked-out and pretty you looked when he was done with you. It made his cock throb inside you, threatening to spill over.
“W-Want you to cum,” you stuttered. “Inside.”
Jungkook was almost there already, barely hanging by a thread. “God, you’re fucking perfect.” He threw his head back against the seat, black hair falling all over his forehead, sweaty and sticking onto his skin. Jungkook was an image of perdition then, so hot that you couldn’t even think about anything else for a second. “Fuck, princess,” he moaned out, “you’re gonna make me cum.”
Lately, his mind became a dangerous place when he was that close to his high, losing its filter and threatening to make him spill everything that was brewing inside his skull. Jungkook had to hold himself back with all the force he had left, but you could see it in his hooded, fucked-out gaze that there was so much that he wanted to say, so many broken words that got lost amidst his groans and moans.
For better or for worse, he came before he had the chance to do so. Jungkook shivered beneath you as he cock released inside you, hands holding tightly to your ass as you milked his orgasm, moaning out your name as he filled you up. He could feel his cum dripping out of you, making a mess on him; could feel the way your pussy clenched around him, and it all was a piece of paradise reserved just for him.
Once Jungkook reached his limit, he pulled you flushed against his chest, kissing your forehead. “You’re amazing,” he said, lost in your gaze. “Stay like this for me.”
You brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “You don’t wanna see it?”
“Later,” he responded. “Wanna stay like this for now.” Jungkook shoved his face on the crook of your neck, smooching your skin as a long, delighted hum vibrated in his chest. “Can I see you tomorrow, baby?” He asked, voice muffled against your skin. “I can kick Taehyung out if you wanna come over.”
You chuckled, placing your fingers in his hair. He leaned against your touch, silently begging you to play with it. “Yeah, sure,” you agreed. “I have class until three, though. And you don’t have to kick the poor boy out. Especially considering that he already knows.”
Jungkook sighed at your response, his hands pulling you closer by the waist. Your back arched, his toned chest pressing against yours as his mouth started to assault your neck, running over the kisses and bites he had left before. “And the day after that?” He pressed on.
Even though you had no idea where he was trying to go with that, you still complied. “Yeah, we can figure it out.” You smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his mouth moving towards your jaw, your cheek, and then placing a kiss right on the corner of your lips. “Any day you want.”
He smiled. “I like the way that sounds.” Leaning back, Jungkook looked at you and, just like that, all the monsters recoiled back under his bed. All his negative thoughts evanesced, and there was no doubt pestering his mind. He looked at you and he just realized that things were simple — and, all along, the two of you were just making it way harder than it should be. But he could change that now. “Baby?” He called, possessed by a newfound wave of bravery. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” You nuzzled closer to him, placing a small kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to deepen it, but you pulled away before he could manage to do so. That seemed to be a pattern between the two of you. “What is it? You got so serious all of a sudden.”
His jaw clenched as he formulated his sentence: he had practiced a few times in his head, trying to find the best moment to let it loose, but it was ten times harder now that you were waiting for it. “Do you want to make it, you know, official?” The question left his mouth rather smoothly, much better than he had predicted. “You know. Us.”
You blinked, shoulders falling as you digested his words. There was a fluttering in your heart that you did not miss, a sinking feeling in your stomach that left your body on edge. “Are… are you kidding?” You asked. Just to be sure. Just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself with an overly-excited yes.
Jungkook frowned. “Why would fucking I joke about that?” He threw back. You didn’t know. It just felt too good to be true. “No, I really fucking like you,” he went on, arms tightening around your lower body. “Want you to be mine. For real.”
Now, Jungkook had seen basically all the expressions you could give, but he had never seen them change so fast. Your face went from disbelief to worry, to happiness and back to confusion; only to explode in a fit of laughter. “I cannot believe you.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, body bouncing up and down as you continued to laugh. “And is this how you ask me to be your girlfriend? Cock inside and all?” You leaned back, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Jeon Jungkook, I swear to god… You’re so stupid.”
He smirked. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
The urge to smack him across the head was overwhelming, but you held it back like a pro — you had months of practice. Instead, you placed both hands on either side of his face, keeping him in place. “See? You’re stupid,” you repeated, unable to fight the happiness in your tone. “It’s a yes, obviously.”
And you kissed him, because there was nothing else in the world to be done at that moment.
Jungkook had to admit: he didn’t know shit about maths — and the little he did know, it was long forgotten after he had left high school. He wasn’t sure anymore, but he thought that something needed at least three sides to actually be a shape… or whatever it was that mathematicians referred to as. That’s why the triangle was the first of that weird sequence he had to memorize. And, therefore, maybe he was just too dumb to see the third side of you.
Maybe you liked him way more than you led on.
Turns out that Yongsun’s good luck had magically returned and you didn’t even know about it.
The drive back to your place was sadly faster than you had anticipated and, about thirty minutes after you had floated your way up to cloud nine, Jungkook was parking in front of your apartment complex, putting an end to your first official date together. He kissed you goodbye (at least three times) before you got out of his car; promising once again that you’d figure out a way to see him the following day. Jungkook (in typical chaotic fashion) decided to keep your panties as a consolation prize regardless.
The front door had started making an awful creaking sound, and it signaled your arrival when you stepped into your apartment. You hummed at the delicious aroma that filled the warm atmosphere, leaning on the wall so you could remove your shoes. They collapsed against the floor, two small perturbations in that peaceful world. “Yongsun! That smells amazing, what is it?” You called out, but received no answer. Yongsun was probably distracted, as she often was when she was cooking. “I’ll be there in a second if you want some help!”
After you went to your room and changed your clothes, you made your way to the kitchen, where you found her leaning over one large pot — spices in one hand, wooden spoon in the other — and her hair looking like it had been tied in a hurricane. The mess in the kitchen was absurd — with poorly-chopped vegetables thrown around; a dark puddle of sauce on the floor; and remnants of mustard on the back of her clothes. You had no idea how Yongsun managed to be so clumsy, but you couldn’t complain when she cooked so well.
You crossed your arms as you arrived by her side, taking a peek inside the pot. “Hey, it smells great. What is it?” You repeated, before looking up at her. Yongsun looked awfully serious, the most you had seen during the years she had been your roommate, and that mere observation sunk like an anchor inside your stomach. “What happened?”
In a way, you knew what had happened before she even started talking. It took you two seconds to remind yourself of the conversation you two had before you left, and another second to take a glimpse at the living room’s window, as if to check that it was still there. Yongsun liked to take breaks during cooking, walking around the place as the food boiled, and it wouldn’t surprise you if her timing had been precise enough to see something.
Still, her following words caught you a little off guard. “You know Kim Taehyung? Last semester, I had this project with him. He talked so much we almost handed it in late.”
You blinked — wait, had Taehyung told her something? Had he asked her something and she had just now connected the dots? “I remember that. You just never told me it was with Taehyung.”
She hummed. “You know him?”
You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions under control. There was an urge inside you to look through the window, review the possibility of Yongsun staring down the street and seeing who you were with — Jungkook hadn’t even left his car, so maybe she was going to mention something completely different. Still, you concentrated that energy into keeping your voice casual, under control. “Yeah, he’s in my ethics class. Why?”
She nodded, finally meeting your stare. Yongsun didn’t look sad, mad, or anything in between, which confused you a little. “One time he told me about this roommate of his,” she continued casually, measuring your expressions. Of course she knew who it was. There was no way she didn’t. “Who fixed a Chevy Camaro ‘69 when he was in high school, he did it with his dad. Taehyung didn’t stop talking about how the car was super cool, and that he wanted to have a bonding experience like that with his own dad. He showed me a picture of it and everything.”
“People talk a lot of personal stuff to you,” you deflected. Part of you wanted to tell her, you had thought about it so many times already, and yet you felt like you could barely move now, just waiting for that excruciating mystery to come to an end.
“Happens when you study psych.” Yongsun sighed, pointing at something behind you. “Pass me the salt?” You had just grabbed it when she gave her killer shot. “Pretty sure you know who his roommate is. I think there’s only one person around campus with a car like that, and I just saw it dropping you off.”
You laughed, dry, because that was all that your body could do at that point. It was a laugh of nervousness, of relief, of fear, of happiness. Everything and nothing at once. “Surprise, I guess,” you said, monotone.
She elevated one eyebrow, grabbing the salt from your hands. Most people would measure it, but Yongsun had a weird sixth sense when it came to cooking, so she just threw a random amount inside the mixture before continuing. “Not a surprise, I think,” she told you. “I had my suspicions.”
Uneasy, you nodded. You also had your suspicions that she knew who it might be, considering the comments she had dropped throughout the months; the way she had looked and talked to Jungkook back at Hoseok’s party. Nevertheless, you guessed she still hoped it was someone else. “You’re fine with that? You look like…”
Yongsun scoffed. “Fine is a strong word, honestly.” Her stare faltered, and suddenly staring at her nails seemed to be much more interesting than keeping a stable eye contact with you. She breathed out, constructing her words inside her head before looking back up. “I’m not your mom, ___. You do what you want, you go out with whoever you want.”
That wasn’t all. “But…?”
She sighed. “But, as your friend, I’m worried,” Yongsun admitted, the wooden spoon sliding between her fingers, bumping on the bottom of the pot. Her body relaxed all at once, glad that she was putting those words out. “You probably know why, maybe the same reason why you didn’t say anything to any of us. Jungkook isn’t really the best dude around and he’s just so… so much.” She shook her head. “You know the things people say about him, right? Do you really think it’s a good idea to get involved?”
You licked your lips, taking a moment to think about your following words. You had imagined that conversation a billion times in your head, but it seemed otherwise from the way you were reacting. “I know what people say, but most of it isn’t true,” you told her. “Of course, he’s far from perfect. So am I. And I know it sounds really dumb and cliche when I say this, but he’s a really nice guy. He treats me well.”
With a quick movement, she turned off the stove, reaching for the pot lid. “I have no doubt about that, girl. I told you that you seemed happy and I meant it,” she said. Her shoulders fell and you couldn’t really figure out what her expression meant. “___, I just… I don’t want you to get carried away by someone that isn’t worth it. You have so much ahead of you, I would hate to see you getting heartbroken or even just distracted because of him.”
You placed one hand on her arm. “Yongsun, believe me when I say that I get it. A hundred percent,” you stressed. “We’ve both been in this… back and forth for a long time now. Exactly because I was thinking the same thing, and I was terrified I was doing something stupid that would end badly. But Jungkook’s great, really.” You breathed out. “I know it’s hard to believe that, it took me some time too. But I’m serious. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
Against your best expectations, your small speech actually managed to settle her worries for now. Yongsun breathed out, relieved. “Good, okay,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
You swallowed dry. “I was worried about what you guys would say. It’s dumb, I know,” you admitted. “And I guess I was lying to myself too.”
She nodded, taking a glimpse at the pot of food. You still had no clue what it was, but, at that point, that was the smallest of your concerns. “You know I’m a black belt in karate, right?” She asked randomly. “I can kick his ass if you want.”
You laughed, finally allowing yourself to relax. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you guaranteed. You felt much lighter now, and you could tell that she was going through the same. You didn’t know how much that secret had been killing you inside until you finally let it loose. “Thank you for understanding, Yongsun. I was afraid you and Jisoo would hate me for it.”
She shook her head, a puff of air leaving her nose. “Honestly, girl, I don’t understand it. At all. But I trust you,” she stressed. That was probably the best scenario you could get out of that. “I can’t guarantee that Jisoo will have the same reaction, though. She hates the guy.”
Oddly enough, having Yongsun speaking your worries out loud didn’t affect you as much as you had expected. Jisoo had been the central line that connected the web of anxiety inside your head and, yet, she seemed like a distant issue now. She was your best friend and you loved her to death, that hadn’t changed a bit, and still, your perspective had switched enough for you to notice that she was probably the least qualified person in the world to judge you for your impulsive actions. Not when you had to take care of her in Hoseok’s party because she couldn’t make her own decisions; because she was afraid of the social backlash of placing her own limits. And, ironically, you were doing the same thing when it came to her.
You had already reached a conclusion about what to do about it. “I’ll tell her after summer break,” you shared your idea, “I think she’ll understand if I talk to her about it. Or at least she won’t be so mad about it.”
“That might work.” Yongsun nodded, thinking for a second. “Well, it’s better than if she figures it out by herself. She’d be really upset.”
Upset was an understatement, but whatever. “Yeah, that’d be the worst case scenario, but it won’t happen,” you were firm in your words. “I’m like a pro at sneaking around.”
Her expression was washed by disbelief. Yongsun scoffed, grabbing a towel nearby so she could remove the pot from the stove. “Girl, I disagree,” she said, walking towards the kitchen table. She was a small girl, but her cooking superpowers worked wonders when it came to transporting food around. “I’ve heard too much.”
You paused, unable to fight the smile that grew on your lips. “Oh… yeah, that was on purpose.”
The pot almost tipped over (which would have undoubtedly been a catastrophe) when Yongsun dropped it on the table, surprised. “What?!” She exclaimed, horrified.
You waved her worries away. “Long story,” you said.
She shook her head, possessed by chaos. “No, girl, you’re not going to zoom past that like you didn’t just say it. It's dinner time and you’re not running away from my yakisoba.” Oh so that was what the food was. Yongsun pointed at one of the chairs while she walked towards the other. “Sit your ass down. You have months of gossip to tell me.”
You raised one eyebrow. “During dinner?” You asked. “Are you sure?”
She huffed. “I have a strong stomach. Go ahead, try me.”
You shrugged, sitting down. To be fair, she didn’t know what she was asking for. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though!
— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of.
— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry
— words; 7,2k
— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation.
Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;)
Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target.
Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all.
And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved.
Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex.
Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed.
“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?”
You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs.
Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”
His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him.
Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.”
With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”
“Not at all,” he complained.
The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?”
Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention.
In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss.
It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem.
In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits.
Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening.
Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time.
As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned.
The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.”
He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”
“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."
“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.”
He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way.
Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved.
You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked.
Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.”
Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”
But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history.
Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer.
And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member.
If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.”
Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away.
“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”
“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?”
He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.”
He frowned. “Or what?”
You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.”
Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his.
Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.”
And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.”
You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.”
He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move.
Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking.
“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”
“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.”
It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”
“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.”
They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried.
You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.”
He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up.
“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”
“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.”
Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.”
“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.”
He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.”
“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.”
“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.”
“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.”
That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you.
The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped.
What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said.
“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.”
As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.”
And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”
He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.”
You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”
“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?”
A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.”
You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly.
With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”
“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined — when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”
You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.”
“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.”
You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?”
“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.”
“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock.
With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”
“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.”
His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release.
“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”
Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased.
Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said.
“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.”
You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?”
It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.”
You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.”
And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.”
A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?”
He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.”
You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him.
After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that.
“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.”
That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him.
“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.”
“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?”
He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.”
No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you.
Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point.
His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.”
“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.”
Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”
You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes.
“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.”
With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was.
“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.”
Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside.
“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.”
You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“
“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat.
The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath.
“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.”
Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it.
“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“
“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”
check out the rest of the bad influence collection!
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; breeding; kidnap; isolation; manipulation; abuse; these men are no good
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes, as well as OC side characters and a reader. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: you meet three cute guys while camping but your trip is delayed when it takes an unexpected turn.
For @boxofbonesfic hot girl summer challenge with the prompts: Girl’s Trip + Breeding kink
Note: I don’t think your ready (for this jelly). But for real, hope you like it!
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
The heat of the sun seeped through your cover-up even as you reclined under the multi-coloured umbrella. You kept your sunglasses propped up on your forehead as you shielded your face with a novel and disassociated from the sandy beach. The idea of a day by the shore seemed good in theory but in practice, it was always too hot and too gritty.
You could hear the splashing and laughter from the water. You wouldn’t mind a dip but none of your bathing suits fit anymore and you hadn’t had time to buy a new one. So you wore a pair of booty shorts and a borrowed crop top under your leopard print coverup. You still weren’t used to the extra pounds and just wearing shorts was hard enough.
You rolled over and planted your elbows as you flattened the book and kept reading. You bent your legs behind you and let them sway as you bent one ankle over the other. You flipped the page as your eyes roved over the unwinding sentence. The story was captivating even if it was cliché.
A shadow darkened your vision and for a moment you stayed focused on the book, thinking it was only someone passing by. When it didn’t relent, you looked up and shaded your eyes. A man smiled down at you and waved your bookmark between his fingers.
“This flew away on you,” he said as he bent to hold it out to you.
“Oh, thanks,” you sat up and took it from him.
“What are you reading?” he asked as you brought your book into your lap.
“Um, some new thing I found on sale,” you showed him the cover, “thriller about a cheating husband… the usual.”
“Sounds scandalous,” he smirked as he stood straight and put his hand on his hip. His broad chest and muscled stomach were hard not to stare at as his skin glistened with sweat and water, “so you come to the beach just to catch up with your book club?”
“What, oh, uh, no, I don’t feel much like swimming, thanks,” you opened the book again and lowered your head.
“Sorry, I’m bugging you,” he reproached himself, “I just… you looked like you needed some company--”
“I have some,” you said awkwardly as you looked up again, “they’re…” you peered around and found Laila and Jasmine hopping into the waves and disappearing into the foam, “in the water, but thanks.”
“Alright, I can take a hint but maybe I’ll run into you again… in the water,” he gave a crooked grin, “I’m Sam.”
You stared at him and ran your thumb along the edges of the pages left in the chapter. You gave your name flatly and once more returned your attention to the novel.
“Thanks again,” you added.
“No problem,” he backed away slowly, “enjoy the sun.”
You nodded and waited for him to walk away. You looked up again slowly and followed his tracks in the sand across the beach. He fell down onto a towel beside another man of similar size. You detached your eyes from him and gazed out on the water. It sure was hot out but even the promise of the cool waves couldn’t erase your over awareness of your love handles.
The fire crackled at the campsite as Laila put together the kebabs for your first dinner away. You took the percolator and trudged past the thin line of weeds and down the dirt path. You went to the shared faucet just a few plots away from your rented site and field the percolator and replaced the lid.
You turned and sloshed water from the spout as you nearly collided with another. The man held a jug and chuckled as he sidestepped you. He was buff and his tank top showed off his muscular arms, though one was completely covered in a tension sleeve, even his hand. His dark stubble shadowed his sharp jaw as his lips twitched in amusement.
“Hey, wow,” he said as you righted the percolator.
“Hi, sorry,” you blinked at him and realised he was the same guy from the beach, the one Sam had sat down with, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s fine. Easy to get lost in your thoughts out here,” he looked up at the trees, “with just the birds and the leaves.”
“Uh, sure,” you said stiffly, “well, have a good one.”
You carried on as he returned the sentiment over his shoulder and the faucet began to trickle into his jug. You trod up the trail and into your site. You placed the percolator on the grate to boil. You went to sit with Laila as she skewered vegetables and Jasmine took another bottle from the cooler.
“It’s so nice to get away from work,” Jas said as she dropped the lid, “you have no idea how freeing it is not to have to stare at my laptop waiting for emails.”
“I think I do,” you chuckled as you rubbed your eye.
“I wish I could agree,” Laila pouted, “you know I hate bugs.”
“Oh come on, Lai, you had fun today, admit it,” Jas sat beside her at the picnic table, “you need to loosen up. You know how many bugs probably live in your building? They just got more places to hide there.”
“Don’t say that,” Laila growled and shuddered, “ugh, you’re making my skin crawl.”
“Just like that spider right there?” Jas dragged her fingertips down her arm and Laila shrieked.
“Hey, hey, you’re gonna throw dinner every where,” you whined, “you two, stop it.”
“Yes, mom,” Jas scowled sarcastically, “you know without you, we’d kill ourselves or each other.”
“Aha, don’t I know it. Always was the middle child,” you grumbled, “the quiet mediator.”
“No onions on mine, Lai,” Jas sniffed and took a deep gulp of her Corona, “gosh, I thought you knew me.”
You tutted and shook your head. You loved being away with your friends, they reminded you of your siblings, but sometimes they were as good as children. You got up as the percolator began to tremble. You needed all the coffee you could get if you were gonna make it through your first night in the wilderness.
The next morning, you woke up stiff and damp from the morning dew. You sat up as Jasmine snored loudly and Laila was completely hidden in her sleeping bag. You shimmied off the deflating air mattress and groaned as you got to your feet. You unzipped the door and stepped out under the canopy.
You stretched your legs and arms as you walked around the campsite. You went back to the tent to grab your pouch of toiletries, hoping to hit the showers while it was still quiet. You head down the trail and followed the signs to the yellow brick building near the onsite playground.
You stepped inside one of the empty shower stalls, a bricked cell with a faucet and a bar for your towel against the door. You put your pouch on the metal ledge and twisted on the showerhead until cold water battered down on you. Slowly, the temperature rose but didn’t get past lukewarm. You took out your rosy body wash and lather as you hummed to yourself.
You stopped the water and grabbed your towel. You patted yourself dry and pulled on your pajamas, eager to change into something fresh back at the tent. You zipped up your pouch and slipped through the door with your towel around your shoulders.
The door just next to yours opened just after and you glanced over at the tall blonde as he shook out his damp hair and draped a dark blue towel over his arm. He wore only a pair of shorts and slides, his torsos lined with muscle and arm thick. You were almost breathless at the sight of him, then he only reminded you of your own undefined physique.
“Morning,” he said brightly, “nice to see another early bird.”
“Morning,” you returned, “uh, yeah, I just can’t sleep all the way out here.”
“Really? It’s so peaceful,” he remarked, “I find it easier.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely, but I don’t sleep well anywhere,” you chuckled nervously, “I’m sorry, you look so familiar.”
“Do I?” he smiled, “Steve.”
He offered his hand and you shook it dully. No, it couldn’t be.
“As in Steve Rogers?”
He shushed you and looked around, “not so loud.”
“Sorry, but… I mean, who wouldn’t recognize you,” you shrugged.
“I usually play dumb,” he said, “it works… mostly.”
“Oh, well, I won’t tell anyone,” you promised as you pivoted on your foot, “scout’s honour.”
“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” he called after you.
You stopped at the end of the wooden platform just above the stairs. You gave your name before you descended, tossing one last pleasantry over your shoulder, “enjoy your vacay, cap.”
You cracked open your first drink of the trip after lunch. The watermelon flavoured vodka drink wouldn’t help your weight but you were trying to let go and just enjoy your free time. You could deal with an exercise plan when you got back to the real world.
Laila and Jasmine went out to run to the store and grab more ice. There was a road stop just twenty minutes away and they wouldn’t be long. You sat at the fire as it crackled low and turned the thinning pages left in your book. You were almost done but knew yourself well enough to bring a few more.
You heard the car pull up into your campsite just on the other side of the tent and marked your page. You got up as Jas clamoured out with a bag of ice and stomped over to dump it in the big blue cooler. Laila locked the doors and went to tuck her keys back in her duffel.
“So what’s for lunch?” Jas said as she huffed and dropped into her beach chair.
“You tell me,” you rebuffed, “I made lunch yesterday.”
“Oh come on, we just went all the way to the store,” she whined.
“And?” you quipped, “I cleaned up after your drunk asses last night.”
“Speaking of,” Laila emerged from under the canopy at the front of the tent, “we’ll be doing lots of that tonight… and with some cute guys.”
“What?” you frowned in dismay and hid behind your can.
“Oh yeah, we ran into some hotties at the store, we figured since you’re not seeing Dean anymore you might wanna have some fun,” Laila teased.
“Yes, of any of us, you need to unwind the most,” Jasmine added, “god, you shoulda seen these guys.”
“Don’t start drooling again,” Laila chirped, “ugh, I’m surprised they even invited us after the display you put on.”
“They invited us because of me,” Jasmine snarked, “I’m adorable.”
“Maybe I’ll stay back,” you said, “I don’t really feel like dealing with strangers.”
“No way,” Jasmine insisted, “you’re coming with us. It will be weird if it’s just us two. There’s three guys and three of us. Sounds like fate to me.”
“Sounds like anxiety,” you muttered.
“Oh hush,” Laila said, “keep drinking and I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”
You grabbed two cans as Laila and Jasmine moaned for you to hurry up. Jasmine took out the map and turned it back and forth as you neared and added your coolers to the beach bag of drinks for the night. You were already a little buzzed.
You looked at the paper as she tapped the x scribbled over a path.
“He marked it…” she said as she kept the map moving, “I just don’t know where we are.”
“Here,” you took the map, hoping you could pretend to get lost and delay or even avoid a night with strangers.
“This way,” Laila said before you could right the map in your hands, “it’s northeast of us, near shower house C.”
“You studyin’ the map or something?” you asked.
“They were hot, okay?” she squeed, “I call the blonde one.”
“Nuh uh,” Jasmine scoffed, “that’s not fair. I met him first.”
“You mean you hit him with the bag of ice,” Laila rolled her eyes.
You kept on down the trail and after a wrong turn corrected by the map, you found your way to a lot with a large black RV. It had and awning and a barbeque just on the other side of it. You heard the wild croon of Mick Jagger rising from a small radio and timbrous voices. You recognized all of them and stopped dead at the edge of the site.
You recognized Sam, Steve, and the dark-haired man from the faucet. Sam stood at the barbeque, the dark-haired man bent over the pit and dropped a log onto the low embers, and Steve reclined in a folding chair. You looked at the other girls and chuckled. How hadn’t you realised earlier?
“Hey,” Laila sang, “are we too late?”
“Nah, we were just waiting,” Sam greeted warmly, “wondering what you wanted? A dog or a patty?”
“Do you have chicken burgers?” Jasmine asked as she led the way.
You trailed behind, still in disbelief and disoriented. You weren’t prepared to spend a night with Steve Rogers and his superhero friends. It didn’t take much after your run-in at the showers to figure out who the other two were.
“This your friend?” Steve asked as he stood, “nice to see you again, birdie.”
You shook your head and tisked at the nickname, “hey, I… what are the odds?”
“You guys know each other?” Jasmine wondered.
“We met,” you shrugged, “briefly.”
“You’re the water girl,” the one who’s name you could guess at said. He no longer wore his sleeve and the metal plates of his arm reflected the firelight.
“Hello again,” you waved shyly as you neared.
“You get around,” Sam kidded, “oh, girls,” he went to Laila and took the heavy beach bag, “save these. We got drinks for everyone. Told you, the night’s on us.”
There were several chairs around the pit and Laila was quick to claim the closest one to Steve but Jasmine dragged one up on his other side. You sat opposite them and Bucky sat a chair away and offered his name. You smiled as Sam doled out red cups. You accepted one and sniffed the strong scent of vodka and some fruity mixer.
“My specialty,” he announced, “The Wild Wilson.”
“Never call it that,” Bucky took one and curled his lip.
“What’s in it?” you stared into the cup.
“I can’t reveal my secret ingredient but some strawberry, some vodka, some of this, some of that.”
“Ah,” you sipped and it wasn’t half-bad; an alcoholic tropical punch, “pineapple?”
“A little,” he admitted as lifted the lid of the barbeque, “and uh, Jasmine was it? Sorry, no chicken.”
“It’s fine,” she trilled, “I’ll be so drunk I won’t know the difference.”
“Great, I’ll be dragging you both back,” you grumbled dryly.
There were a few laughs and you took a bigger gulp. They all seemed friendly enough but you felt like the odd one out. Laila and Jasmine still had the same shape as in college and the men were built like professional athletes. Maybe if you drank enough, you wouldn’t care about the jiggle in your ass.
The alcohol lulled your nerves as you listened to the conversation. You added a few comments when Jasmine brought up your last trip but you were content enough to drain the last of your first drink. You could already feel the effects. It hadn’t tasted that strong.
“Want some more?” Sam nudged you with his knuckle as he gripped the spatula.
“Whew, you know, I think I need to use the bathroom,” you said and tried to stand.
Your legs turned to jelly and you fell back into the chair. You grasped the fabric arms and blinked as your vision turned hazy. You saw Laila’s head loll back against her chair and she slumped dangerously down on the frame. You shook your head but it only added to your dizziness.
“What--” you gulped out as Jasmine folded over and was barely caught before she crashed into the dirt in front of you, “what’s in this?” You looked up at Sam as your words garbled and your eyelids grew heavier, “Sam? S--”
You slurred into the darkness as your eyes rolled back and all strength drained from your body.