#i don't draw backgrounds much but i think this one came out well!!! (plants saved me)

[glass-oranges]

Guess who got so sick and tired of not having good textured blending brushes and went fuck it we ball today instead

[gxtsmxt-blog]

Hey, may i request a Jungkook story well I don't really have a plot tbh i just wanna read a story of jungkook like those collage au and have a hobby of photography 🙈 thanks 😊

the nudist and the prudist [m]

❛❛ i saw you naked on your porch but jesus christ is my friend so i was hoping i would never see you again but here you are go away hot person❜❜ AU

COUNT → 14.968

GENRE → smut | angst | fluff | humor

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → explicit language | virgin reader | exhibitionism | alcoholism | sEX

LINKS → TNATP 1.5 (jungkook’s pov)

note: so. this was mostly inspired by me walking by a naked man in real life this weekend. i live in a big city where one of the state universities is. lets just say i ran away screaming in terror. but ofc nothing else happened. never saw that man again. a nice butt he had. anyways. im gonna go to church now and say hello to my gOOD FRIEND JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!! AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

also send in more requests bc im a thirsty hoe

It was finally spring.

The bitter cold had lasted longer than normal and you feared that even the first day of spring would be filled with steady snowfall. Your winter had been spent wrapped in blankets, sipping on hot apple cider, and venturing outdoors with scarves nearly constricting your airflow. You thought the cold season was beautiful, but it was only beautiful superficially in your eyes. You didn’t enjoy walking around in layers upon layers of clothing and never leaving your room unless you absolutely had to. Then, one morning, you were greeted by melted snow and grass finally taking on that vibrant green color you missed so much.

As an introvert, winter was your own nightmare.

But then it became spring.

Pulling your keys from your backpack, you locked your door with a flick of your wrist, then moved through the claustrophobic hallway that connected you to your other housemates. They weren’t necessarily housemates exactly, as you’d never even spoken a word to any of them, but all three of you shared a bathroom and kitchen along with the people upstairs. Each of you had your own separate room as well—just as small as the hallway. Not counting your own building,  there were four separate buildings altogether with a large, steep driveway near the front lawn. Your apartment specifically was located near the back where everyone parked their cars, each person having a spot that correlated with their room number. Closing the door quietly behind you, you made your way to the concrete stairs on the opposite side of the driveway and garbage bin, heading your university’s main campus.

As a first year, you had decided to live on your own without a roommate. Your parents advised you against it at first, as they knew you were the quiet type and it was hard for you to make friends, but you convinced them it would save you money in the long run. They offered to pay for most of your tuition, but you wanted to do so yourself. The two of them had been married for twenty-five years and you always compared your relationships—or lack thereof—to their own when you thought of settling down and having children; they were your role models. Even something as small as living off-campus was something you wanted them to fully support, even if it was ultimately your decision.

Your black boots made contact with the sidewalk after crossing the street, looking both ways before you did. It seemed no one was around but it was seven o'clock in the morning. Your first class wasn’t for another two hours and the walk to the bus stop was short, but you wanted to make a habit of reviewing your notes before your classes now that the weather was sunny again.

You rested your hands on the camera dangling around your neck. Your photography project for the week was to take pictures of nature at different times throughout the day. You recalled most of your pictures taken over the semester had snowfall in the background, so you were looking forward to the contrast from your new pictures. And today, you would capture spring for the first time.

Just as you passed by a few houses, your eyes followed after a robin as it perched on the railing of one of the porches across the street. It was slightly chubby, or maybe that was just its feathers, but you smiled as it began to chirp to its heart’s content. If you weren’t so shy and quiet, maybe you would sing, too.

You closed an eye and played with the focus to get the perfect shot—but then a naked man was opening the front door, standing directly behind the bird as you took the picture. The bird flew off to perch itself on a nearby branch instead, flapping its wings and squawking wildly in surprise, while you remained rooted to the sidewalk in pure shock. It was a good thing your camera was attached to a long string around your neck, as you let go of it when you let out a high-pitched scream.

He turned at that, not even realizing a person was standing across the street facing his house, and that’s when you saw it—his penis hanging there like a limp noodle. You covered your eyes so fast that you alsmost poked yourself in the eye, but for some reason you made a gap with your fingers to peek through. He looked like he was your age, maybe a year or two older than you. His hair was almost onyx as strands of straight hair fell into his eyes. You could feel your cheeks heating up but you couldn’t stop looking at him—both at him and his penis. He was muscular, too, his biceps and thighs attractively toned.

To your embarrassment, you realized this was the first time you’d seen a penis besides from illustrations in your high school textbook. It wasn’t like your family was religious or anything for you to never see one up close and in real life. Your mom had given you “the talk” when you got your period in seventh grade and explained sex to you in almost vivid detail, but also gave you her opinion on it—that sex should be reserved for a husband and his wife only. Maybe you were too young at the time to form an opinion of your own, but you had agreed with her. You promised you would wait until marriage to do that.

And, you supposed, somewhere along the way, you also promised never to look at a penis. Or maybe you just didn’t want to. Even from the simple illustrations in textbooks, they grossed you out.

Noticing your feet were still planted firmly to the ground, you broke into a run in the direction of the bus stop with your hands still covering your eyes, which wasn’t a good combination as a car honked at you when you blindly ran in front of it. You had no idea why you were running in the first place—as if he was going to chase you or something—but your first instinct was always to run away.

And he just stood there like this was just another day.

Faintly, you could hear him call after you, but you were not about to have a conversation with a naked man. You liked to look someone in the eye when you spoke to them and something told you that you would be looking at something else if he tried talking to you. Your thoughts raced as you wondered why he was even naked in the first place. Was he one of those guys you could look up online and find where he lived on the “sexual predators near you” list? If not, he was going to be up there very soon.

Even as the house disappeared from view when you turned a corner, you kept running. A man mowing his lawn simply watched on as you did, but you didn’t think much of it. You would later, though—your anxiety obnoxiously reminding you this incident happened in the first place.

When you reached an intersection near a busier part of the neighborhood, you hunched over to catch your breath. You tried not to think about his penis, but you couldn’t help it. It had been right there in your face. Well, maybe not right in your face, as you were standing at least a few hundred feet away, but you had seen it and you had stared longer than at least thirty seconds.

It really did look bigger than it did in pictures. Sex and male genitalia were never something you spent hours upon hours thinking about—until now. Now, as you sluggishly dragged your feet to the bus stop, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was so veiny and… thick. Was that supposed to fit inside of you someday? You knew men were of all different shapes and sizes when it came to their penises, but how could a penis be any larger than that and still fit? How did he even walk around with that thing? And you thought the hair was on the whole shaft. From what you saw, his pubic hair was actually at the base of it. The artist in your sex ed textbook illustrated penises with hair—well—everywhere. Maybe she was like you and had never seen a penis before either. That was slightly alarming, though, because maybe she shouldn’t be drawing penises if she hadn’t even seen one in the first place.

Pulling your phone out of your back jean pocket and wiping the sweat off of your forehead with the palm of your hand, you realized it was 7:08—it only took eight minutes for that disaster to happen. Your index finger tugged at the collar of your shirt and the slight spring breeze felt heavenly against the sweat that had accumulated there. You didn’t even notice how much you were sweating until now. It was a good thing you always put on deodorant. Were you sweating from the exhaustion of running away from a naked man for three blocks straight or… was it something else?

As the bus pulled in front of you, you quietly found an empty seat inside. You had a class in two hours but somehow you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to review any of your notes efficiently.

Your mind was thinking about something else.

You had memorized his address—or maybe it wasn’t even his house. Actually, you didn’t want to think about that because somehow that was worse; some random guy feeling the breeze on his bare genitals on an old woman’s porch was definitely worse. If you felt like you were traumatized, she would have a heart attack and then die—probably. So, you rationalized that it had to be his house and also wondered if he had roommates or even a girlfriend living with him.

9773 S. Briarwood Dr.

That was his address and the street the two of you lived on. Your apartment building was but two houses away from his, separated by mere shrubbery. How had you had gone through half of the semester already—and walking by his house each day—without seeing him at least once? Maybe you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you had left your room even fifteen minutes later that day, would you have even seen him at all?

After you came home from a study group later that night, you had torn a piece of paper out of your notebook and mapped out your entire neighbor—including possible bus stops, alleyways, and other shortcuts. His house was outlined with a bright red marker and crossed out, as if to tell anyone reading your map that it was a blocked off quarantine zone. It also helped that you drew him as a stick figure in his front lawn wearing no clothes with “beware of naked person” written beside him.

Behind your building were a multitude of possible routes. You could easily loop around the block so you never walked by his house on your way to the bus stop ever again. Though, you would also have to leave earlier in the morning. If that didn’t work, there was also another bus stop in the opposite direction you could take, but that meant waking up even earlier in the morning. You didn’t mind waking up earlier in the morning, but hoped that you never slept in late—for your sake.

All this trouble just because of a boy—and once again, you were thinking about his penis.

That entire day had been a nightmare for you. You went through the various stages of grief within two hours, but in reverse order—acceptance, depression, and then anger as you battled against yourself to not call the local authorities and tell them about a disturbing naked man walking the streets. You had every right to, you told yourself, as being naked in public was literally a crime: public indecency.

You felt like you were a used napkin now. He hadn’t taken your virginity but he had taken your innocence—the innocence that had never seen a penis in real life. But then you thought that it could’ve been an accident. The person inside of you that always tried to see the good in people wouldn’t allow your fingers to dial 9-1-1 and instead hoped an accident was what it was.

The spring breeze whipped your hair into your face just as his house came into view with you glancing down nervously at the picture you took of your map on your phone. It wasn’t too late; you could turn around to take another route and still get to the library with enough time to study.

You can do this, you told yourself. You’re a big girl living in the city. He’ll understand if you just talk to him. Tell him he can be naked all he wants as long as it’s not before eight o'clock in the morning during the weekdays.

You had every intention of marching up the steps leading to his front porch, knocking on his door, and saying exactly that, but then you changed your mind. Your brisk walk turned into slight panting as you quickly sped right on by.

However, just as you reached the intersection, as his house was the last house on the block before crossing the street, you heard a voice calling after you. Looking over your shoulder, you were more than surprised to see the very same person you saw yesterday, except half-clothed this time. He jogged down the steps, his bare feet running across the grass in his front lawn as he made his way over to you still frozen at the stop sign. You couldn’t help but have your eyes trail to his covered crotch and how something was moving in his sweatpants. Sparing a glance at his naked chest once, you turned on your heel and ran across the road, not even caring if a car hit you at that point.

“Hey!” he yelled after you but you didn’t slow down. “Girl with her backpack open!”

You stopped, looking behind you to see him still standing on the opposite side of the road. Your eyes landed on a trail of pencils behind you and you reached around your sides to feel the pocket where you kept your writing utensils was open. You bent over and tried to pick up all your pens, pencils, and multicolored highlighters before he could reach you, but just as you grabbed for an eraser in the middle of the road, he snatched it right out from under you.

You stood to your feet and reached for it, but he had at least a few centimeters on you and easily held it above your head. With his arm lifted in the air, you were given the perfect view of his bicep flexing and the dark patch of hair growing in his armpits.

“I remember you.”

No, you don’t, you thought to yourself.

“You saw me yesterday.”

No, I didn’t, you thought to yourself again but remained silent.

You could feel your cheeks heating up but he still kept your eraser out of your reach. Maybe it wasn’t worth it, but you were there now and should at least listen to what he had to say.

“About—”

“Jungkookie~” a feminine voice sang from a crack in his front door, manicured hands gripping onto its frame. Only her head peeked out and you wondered if she also had a problem wearing clothes.

Without taking his eyes off you or lowering his arm, he called her name back in the same sing-song voice. She giggled at him playfully, then her eyes fell on you, the smile slipping off her face.

“Who is she?” she said with a pout. “Come back to bed. I’m lonely without you.”

“I don’t know who she is,” he yelled over his shoulder, then looked back at you. “What’s your name?”

You looked between him and the seemingly naked girl behind his front door, feeling very uncomfortable staying there any longer. His arm had fallen slightly when he called over to her and he didn’t seem to notice, so you took that chance to jump in the air and snatch back your eraser.

“Hey!” he called after you when he noticed, watching as you ran across the street.

Just like yesterday, you ran until his house disappeared when you turned the corner. You had thought you could talk to him one-on-one but you felt so nervous around him. Maybe because you didn’t have the best of confidence around guys your age—or guys at all—but he made you really nervous. You brushed off that feeling from you seeing him naked, though, and not from something else.

For the past week, you walked in the opposite direction of his house on your way to the bus stop each day. It wasn’t like he was sitting on his porch waiting for you to walk by, but on the off chance that he was, you didn’t want to have another awkward chat with him. You didn’t know if he was actually a student at your university or was just some guy living on the same street as you either because your university was so large in the first place; you never saw the same person twice.

Stepping onto the bus one morning, however, your mood somewhat deteriorated at the sight of how many people were on the bus. It was crowded—so crowded that you knew you wouldn’t be able to find a seat and would have to be squished between people. Though, you had woken up late and expected there to be more people than normal, you didn’t think it would be too bad. You didn’t like being touched by strangers, but you didn’t have a car or even a bicycle to give you any other option.

The bus driver instructed everyone to make three rows, which caused you get up close and personal with the people around you. Satisfied, he pressed on the gas pedal and began to drive towards the main campus. A hand fell on your shoulder, then grabbed onto one of your backpack straps currently sliding past your shoulder and down your arm. You looked over your shoulder to thank them, but then lost all train of thought when you recognized them immediately.

“Hey, backpack girl,” he greeted, patting your shoulder when he readjusted your strap for you.

“H-Hello,” you shyly said back, turning your attention back to the girl standing in front of you.

When the bus stopped suddenly, a pedestrian choosing to run across the street without looking, your back fell into his chest. The hand that wasn’t holding onto the handrail overhead fell to your waist, your shirt having ridden up slightly so all he could feel there was smooth, bare skin.

You turned your head slightly, muttering your thanks, and then the bus doors were opening. Your stop wasn’t for another fifteen minutes but you would simply wait for another bus. He was making you nervous again without even doing anything and you needed a moment to yourself to calm down.

Other people followed you off the bus, walking over to the crosswalk, but you approached the bench. You placed your backpack against your legs, closing your eyes for a moment as you sat down. When you opened them, you were greeted by that growing smile you were dreading to see.

“Did you follow me?” you asked, surprised at yourself for sounding so competent.

“I don’t just sit on my porch all day with my dick hanging out, you know.”

You gave him a small smile at that. “I meant did you follow me off the bus?”

“You just happened to get off at my stop, backpack girl.”

He sat beside you on the bench with a thud, spreading his legs as he glanced at you.

“My name isn’t ‘backpack girl,’” you returned quietly and folded your hands in your lap.

“Yeah? I asked you what your name was last week but you didn’t answer me.”

“O-Oh,” you said and looked at him through your peripheral vision. “Right.”

“So?” he asked, leaning forward. “What’s your name? I’m Jungkook.”

You were still looking at him from the side, trying your best not to look down at his crotch. Glancing down at the hand placed between the two of you, your eyes followed the bulging veins from the back of his hand, disappearing into the sleeve of his shirt. Looking him in the eye at that, you realized he’d already been staring at you. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at his hand, though. Quietly, you muttered your name and he repeated it to himself.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jungkook said with a charming smile. “Except we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered and felt the familiar rush of blood to your cheeks.

Standing up, you muttered a quiet goodbye and then walked over to the stop light. Instead of him letting you leave, however, he followed after you, standing to your left as the two of you waited for the light to change. You looked both ways to make sure no one was coming before you crossed the busy street, the light still red. He, however, was paying more attention than you and pulled you back onto the sidewalk as a car drove past you and honked.

“The light was red.”

“I-I know.”

“You’re really cute, you know that?” he asked you with a light chuckle.

“I’m n-not, but thank you.”

The light indicated you could now cross the street and he let go of your arm.

“Promise to watch where you’re going!” he yelled after you.

Once you safely crossed the street, you waved back at him with a shy smile.

“Bye!” he yelled again, cupping his hands over his mouth. “I gotta get back to the bus stop!”

Your eyebrows furrowed at that, and then you yelled back, “I thought that was your stop!”

He gave you a cheeky grin at that.

I lied, he mouthed back.

Jungkook wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.

It wasn’t like you had a bad thought about him in the first place. You assumed he was a good person and that it was simply an accident that you saw his penis, which you had long forgotten about—for the most part. You no longer avoided his house to take a different bus. Instead, you bravely walked by each day and he would sometimes be sitting on his porch to wave at you. Sometimes, he would stop you just to talk, simply to ask you how you were or ask you what you thought of a new movie.

One morning, however, he wasn’t there.

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It wasn’t like he was there every day—because sometimes, he told you, he would sleep in or go to the gym early in the morning. But a faint knock on the window had your heart beating a little faster than normal. Maybe he was home but just wasn’t outside. Pausing outside his house, you looked for which window he was knocking from.

But it was not a knock.

Instead, you saw a naked woman being pressed against a window. Your eyes widened at that, your phone that you’d been holding in your right hand falling onto the sidewalk. Bending over, you picked it up, thankful it had a cover on it, then glanced back at the window. Her breasts were squished against the glass and you could make out another figure directly behind her, reaching in front of her to grab at her lower regions. Didn’t he remember that you walked by his house every day at the exact same time? As you continued to stare in shock, her eyes slowly opened, looking directly at you and—

Oh, God.

Your hand covered your mouth, knowing exactly what was happening there. Before you could stop yourself, you were running past his house as fast as you could, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. You heard the front door opening with a slam but you continued to run, even after you heard his rushed footsteps follow after you and him yell your name multiple times.

Just before his house disappeared from view, you stopped and looked over your shoulder. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, but you were thankful he at least put on some clothes. Thinking that you already ran away, he looked up at the sky and ran his tongue past the seam of his lips. He kicked a rock across his front lawn and then cursed to himself before heading back inside. Just before the front door shut, you saw the naked girl stop in front of him and attempt to talk to him. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but it looked like he wasn’t happy with her as the door closed shut.

He must have just forgotten that you walked by every day. Why else would he be having sex with a girl against a window knowing that? Your eyes brimmed with tears, but you didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you liked him like that—romantically. He was very attractive and he was nice to you, but you didn’t know what you felt for him exactly. The two of you had only been talking for a week and that wasn’t enough time at all for you to like someone in that way, especially when you knew he had girls over all the time to have sex with them. He told you that much about him, at least.

After that, you stopped walking by his house.

You missed talking to him and you missed seeing him, but you were a little more than upset with him to care about his feelings. Did he even care that you stopped walking by? Maybe this was what he wanted all along; maybe he found your presence annoying and just wanted you to leave him alone. Surely he could’ve just told you that but that’s what your anxiety was telling you—and you believed it.

After you had been studying for hours and felt like your head was about to explode one night, your mind drifted back to him as it always did—him and that girl pressed up against the window. You had never watched porn before in your life, as you wanted to keep your innocence intact, but you couldn’t help but wonder how it felt to have sex with him like she had. What did it feel like? If he had girls over all the time just for that, he must’ve been good enough for them to always keep coming back.

You thought she was the same girl that was staying at his house that one time, though. For reasons you couldn’t yet explain or even understand, you felt jealous. It seemed like she was always at his house and maybe he was always naked because they were just having sex all the time. She was probably his girlfriend or maybe she was just a friend that he liked to have sex with—more so than any of the other girls he had sex with. Even if that’s all she was, you still felt envious of her. She could see him whenever she wanted, talk to him whenever she wanted. But you? You only saw him once every day at seven o'clock in the morning, and all you ever could do was wave.

For the first time in a long time, you were frustrated with your quiet nature. You couldn’t even speak more than a few words to him without getting flustered and now you had ruined it. Getting so upset over him having sex with a girl was completely ridiculous, but that’s how you felt.

Maybe you liked Jungkook a lot more than you thought you did.

Usually you made men uncomfortable with your quiet way of speaking and how you wouldn’t look them directly in the eye, but he didn’t mind at all. He thought you were cute and would tell you that whenever he felt like it. No one else had called you cute before in your life, except for your grandma when you were five years old. Somehow, you only liked it when he called you cute. You realized that you valued his opinion way too much, and that was clear from how sad you were from not seeing him.

For a fleeting second, you wondered what it would be like to have sex with him—vividly. What would it be like if, instead of that girl, it was you having sex with him? You covered your eyes at that thought out of embarrassment. That was just completely out of the question, something you shouldn’t even be thinking about at all. All you felt for Jungkook was attraction. 

He didn’t care about you at all.

Even with that thought on your mind, as you laid in bed, your hand slowly drifted past your pajama shorts, touching yourself down there for the first time. The patch of hair made it awkward at first, but then your finger circled your outer lips and you let out a gasp at the sensation.

Would Jungkook touch you down there if you asked?

You closed your eyes, imagining your fingers were his instead. If his fingers were similar to the size of his penis, they would be long and able to reach places that yours couldn’t. Without even thinking twice about it, your other hand grasped one of your breasts through your baggy t-shirt, then rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger. It felt so good and there was so much wetness down there just from thinking about him touching you. You pulled your hand out of your warm center and slowly opened your eyes to look at it. It was coated with your own juices and somehow, that made you feel even more turned on than you already did. Letting go of your breast, you reached down and spread your lips open with your fingers so that the fingers on your other hand could go back to their caressing, but this time, you shoved the tip of your forefinger inside your tight hole.

It felt strange and almost uncomfortable, but after a few minutes, you were able to stick your entire finger all the way inside of you. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like if it was his finger instead. Adding another, your inner walls stretched even more at the new digit inside of you.

I am a good girl, you chanted in your head. I don’t do things like this. I am a good girl.

Even thinking that, though, you knew it wasn’t true. Something was very wrong with you for having such impure thoughts about a boy you rarely saw except for in the morning. You thought back to how he’d pressed that girl against the window. How would it feel to be in her place?

Your hips stuttered at that, the speed of your fingers increasing. All your mind was thinking about was Jungkook—how hard he would press you into that window, how hard he would fuck you into that window. Your fingers suddenly weren’t enough; you wanted his fingers inside of you.

“J-Jungkook,” you moaned quietly to yourself, your legs twitching.

Then you pulled your fingers out of you and began to caress your outer lips again, pausing when you touched yourself in a certain way that shot an intense amount of pleasure through you. You pinched at your lips and tried to locate the same spot near where your outer lips met at the top of your vagina.

“Oh, God…” you couldn’t help but cry out loudly, squeezing your thighs together for some friction.

The sensation felt so good, but it also made you feel different as well. You wanted to keep going but you also wanted to stop, which was what you did.

This was not what you should be doing. It was just going to make things worse for you. Jungkook would have sex with you and then never speak to you again, or at least that’s what you told yourself. He would deflower you and leave you out to dry like a dirty sock. 

At that thought, warm tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

And as you laid in your bed, your fingers coated in your own juices, you cried.

The next few days after that, you felt physically and emotionally drained. You couldn’t even get out of bed, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to. Never had you felt so ashamed of yourself because this was all because of a boy. Your parents would be ashamed of you if they knew, too.

And that made you feel even worse.

They would be disgusted by your behavior you and probably think to themselves what they did so wrong to raise such a horrible excuse for a daughter. And they had every right to think that.

After a week of skipped classes and homework piling up more and more each day, you found yourself lying in the front lawn of your apartment building late one night. It was the weekend and no one would care if they saw a crying girl on the grass. They would let you self-deprecate in peace.

With a half-empty bottle of straight vodka on its side by your head, you opened your eyes.

“Hey, man,” you heard a familiar voice say to someone else, then they asked if you lived here.

You sat up so quickly at that your head began to spin. The conversation was distant enough that you could tell they were talking right in front of the building near the street. Placing a hand on your forehead, you strained your ears to listen, even though your brain was screaming at you to die.

When you heard nothing, you assumed they left and laid back down on the ground, taking a swig of vodka as you did. The burn was unpleasant but you welcomed it and took another.

“Yeah, but how do you know her exactly?”

“Uh… It’s kind of a long story.”

“All right, man. Well, she’s in #10.”

You gulped at that, hoping that it was so late in the evening now that he wouldn’t see you in the dark.

You heard a car starting and footsteps getting closer as they traipsed up the driveway, then you peeked through half-closed eyelids to see a shadow looming over you.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, a concerned look on his face.

“Whoever you’re d-dialing can’t be r-reached,” you slurred, batting the person standing beside you away with your hand like they were a fly buzzing around your head. “Try…" You started to hiccup, enough that you just gave up on finishing your sentence.

“Oh, Jesus…”

He knelt at your side, prying the bottle of vodka out of your hands with a sigh. You faintly remembered hearing him ask himself how you managed to get vodka in the first place, but then he was tossing the bottle somewhere behind him on the grass. It clinked when it rolled into the fence surrounding the nearby garbage bin, then he grabbed one of your arms to get you to stand up. He called your name once, then several times to get your attention.

“Can you hear me right now?”

You groaned in response.

“Shit. You’re so fucked up.”

He pulled at your arms like you were some sort of rag doll, your face falling into the crook of his neck easily from his strength. Another sigh escaped him, but it didn’t seem like he was bothered. Reaching for your legs, he easily pulled you into his chest and carried you down the driveway bridal style.

“W-Where are we goin’?” you managed to ask and attempted to focus on his face. Your hands idly hung around his neck and he suddenly paused, hoisting you further up his body.

“My house. Is that okay?”

Your head fell against his shoulder, blacking out for a few seconds at a time. He resumed walking when you didn’t say anything back. When you opened your eyes again after what felt like only seconds, you were lying on a couch inside someone’s house. The sight of a large ceiling fan greeted you when you did, and then you glanced around what appeared to be a living room.

“Jungkook,” you heard a voice say. “Why is there a drunk girl on our couch right now?”

“You know, it’s a funny story…”

“And you know what else is a funny story? That whenever you say something is a ‘funny story,’ it actually isn’t a ‘funny story’ at all because you did something stupid.”

Jungkook sighed. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, shit. You’re right. I gotta get going, but you better not let her puke on the carpet.”

The door slammed with a shut and you heard Jungkook sigh again, then watched as he carried one of the dining room chairs in front of you to take a seat. Your eyes fell onto his thighs, the back of the chair facing you and him sitting on it with his legs spread open.

“You’re conscious,” he said after a few seconds, smiling in relief.

“Jungkook,” you started to say, “why weren’t you there that morning?”

It was a vague question but somehow he knew exactly what you meant.

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that. I didn’t even— It didn’t even register that… I’m sorry.”

You sat up, rubbing at your temples for a moment. He went to reach for you in an attempt to steady you, but you backed away from him and pressed yourself more into the couch.

“It’s fine,” you said, which was a lie. “Can you take me home?”

“Y-Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

You wanted to lie again and tell him you were fine, but somehow you couldn’t even do that. Even after passing out, you still could feel the alcohol pumping through your veins, giving you a false sense of confidence. You knew if you were even slightly sober, you wouldn’t have said a word.

“No, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You stood up, your head spinning as you did and almost causing you to topple over. Raising a hand, you gestured that you were fine and could walk by yourself without his help.

It was awkward as you stumbled over to his front door, trying to open it but not realizing it was locked. He reached over your shoulder, his large hand encasing your own on the door knob so he could unlock it, then offered you a small smile. You didn’t return it, though.

He silently followed you outside, walking behind you quietly.

“Are you sure you're—”

“I said I’m fine.”

He didn’t say another word after that. Cars drove by but that was all you heard as the two of you slowly made your way past the houses separating his house from your own.

“You know what? I’m not. I’m a little intoxicated right now—”

He snorted softly at that, agreeing with you.

“—and so I’m probably going to say something dumb. Usually I wouldn’t even be speaking more than two words to you but right now I don’t give a shit. That’s right. I know what that word means.”

You spun around to face him, breathing heavily after your outburst.

“I’m fucking pissed at you. You knew I would be walking by but then I saw— And I know we’re not even friends. We’re complete strangers, but I figured you could at least keep your dick in your pants for even just one second because I thought we— I thought y-you l-liked me like I like y-you.”

“I do lik—!”

“I am talking right now, Jungkook,” you hissed, taking a step forward. “As I was saying… I thought— But I guess I was wrong. You probably only started talking to me in the first place because you wanted to stick your dick in me, right? Why else would you talk to someone as socially awkward and quiet as me?”

You turned back around, then, with your back facing him. He didn’t have much to say in response, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t think of what to say. The two of you continued towards your building in silence again. You crossed your arms, so many things left unsaid between you two.

When you reached your driveway, you threw a glance over your shoulder.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you quietly said. “I won’t be walking by anymore so you can screw whoever you want wherever you want without worrying about me, if you even did at all.”

Then you wobbled your way up the driveway, set on storming into your room to take a long nap. Though, it was late at night already so that would probably just be called sleeping.

“Wait!” he yelled after you, but didn’t make a move to go after you. “Will you just— Fucking hold on.”

You heard his rushed footsteps behind you, then he grabbed your shoulder to spin you around. He pulled back at the sight of tears brimming in your eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I do fucking like you. I do but I… I’m not good enough for you. No one is good enough for you.”

“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide that?” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You already did.”

You pulled your arm out of his grasp and tried to walk back up the driveway, but then he was grabbing for your arm again, this time pushing you into the fence surrounding the garbage bin. Surprised, you looked up at him. He bit into his lip, seeming to make up his mind about something.

“You’re not… making this fucking easy on me, you know?”

Then he was kissing you.

His arms caged you into the fence, angling his head as he sucked your upper lip into his mouth. Your eyes blinked rapidly, still trying to process what was happening. His lips felt chapped but also soft at the touch, something you hadn’t been expecting. You’d been kissed before but they were only pecks on the lips and definitely nothing as searing hot as his mouth. You felt his tongue lick across the seam of your lips, and your eyes closed on reflex at that as you slowly opened your mouth for him.

“I shouldn’t be…” he mumbled against your lips, returning his tongue into your mouth. Seeming to have forgotten what he was trying to say, his words just trailed off into the air.

One of his hands fell from the wooden fence and skimmed down your sides, stopping at your waist and maneuvering under your shirt to feel the warm skin there. Compared to your heated body, his hands were like ice cubes but you didn’t want him to stop touching you. Even just kissing him was something you didn’t want to stop doing. His other hand followed soon after, both of them gliding at a snail’s pace across the skin at your back. Your eyes snapped open when he roughly pulled you against him and your breasts pressed against his firm chest. It was like your body was on fire and you could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. You wondered if he could hear it, too.

He exhaled through his nose after a few seconds and pulled away from your mouth to trail kisses from your chin to down your neck. Your hands bunched up the fabric at his collar as you stood there and let him do whatever he wanted to you. You hadn’t ever been kissed like how he was kissing you, ravaging your neck with such an intensity you found it hard to think straight. His teeth nipped at the skin there lightly, which caused you to let out a gasp. After placing a chaste kiss there, he breathed heavily into your neck for a moment, pulling back after a while to look at you. The hands holding you to him at your back suddenly slid further up your shirt and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Your eyes opened again to see him staring down at you with raw desire. He bent his head forward to kiss you once as if he couldn’t help himself—a fleeting peck—and then he pulled away again. You moaned lowly from the back of your throat at the loss of contact and he licked his lips, scanning your face under the glow of the dim streetlight. Your lips felt bruised and wet with his own saliva and yours.

He leant forward again and pressed a kiss against your temple, then one softly to your cheek. Pulling away one last time, the two of you just stared at each other in awe. You didn’t know what to say and definitely hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you ten minutes ago—especially not like that.

And then a car was honking at the two of you, gesturing for you to get out of the way so they could find a parking spot without hitting you. Jungkook grabbed at your waist, his hands at your back sliding around to grip your sides. Then his hands were gone, skimming down the length of your arm to hold onto your hand tightly and drag you around the garbage bin to let them drive past you.

When they were gone, disappearing behind the building, he looked back down at you.

“So, um…” he said, panting slightly. “That was… something…”

“Yeah,” you replied, staring at your feet in embarrassment.

He sensed that and instantly felt regret, not from kissing you but from doing so without your permission. He hadn’t even asked you if it was okay with you—he just did it without thinking.

“I’m sorry. I—” he started to say, then cut himself off. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately, huh?”

You snapped up your head to look at him. “It’s okay! I’m fine. Don’t apologize.”

Every time he looked at you, all he could remember was how warm you felt inside your mouth. For a moment, his thoughts went south. He had to get you back in your room before he made things worse.

“Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Y-Yeah. I can find my way. Don’t worry about me,” you assured with a warm smile. He let go of your hand after realizing he was still holding onto it somewhat tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be.” You tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “I… I liked it, so thank you.”

His hands twitched at his sides at what you said, his brain screaming at him to get away from you.

You turned around and began to walk up the pathway to your building, opening the door. Looking over your shoulder, you gave him a small wave and smiled at him. Before you disappeared inside, however, he was running over to you and grabbing onto the door frame.

“Listen… uh…” he began and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Can I make it up to you? For kissing you and for… you know. I’m throwing a party tomorrow night. You should come.”

Your hands held onto the side of the door, his hand holding onto the door frame inches from your own.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, smiling. “If you want me to come, I will.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling back at you. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You nodded and he nodded back, awkwardly. Waving one last time, you closed the door in his face. After you walked down the hallway to unlock your door and disappeared from sight, he breathed deeply through his nose, able to think straight for the first time in what seemed like two hours. He moved to walk back down the driveway and go to sleep in his own bedroom, looking over his shoulder at the door several times as he did.

“God, I’m fucked…” he mumbled to himself, wondering if inviting you to his party was a good idea.

You fell asleep late that night, not waking up until half-past noon the next morning. It wasn’t something you could help, though, as you couldn’t stop thinking about him and that kiss. Now, at a quarter until nine o'clock at night, you pulled back your covers and walked over to your mirror. Was going to his party such a good idea? Maybe all he wanted to do was talk to you and hang out with you, but what if he was with one of those girls? You would just get angry with him again and it wouldn’t be anyone else’s fault but your own.

Going through your closet, you took at least ten minutes to pick out what to wear. You wanted to impress him but also didn’t want him to know you were trying to impress him, so you went with a simple blouse paired with a somewhat short skirt. You hadn’t shaved your legs in two days, but the hair growing back wasn’t that noticeable. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror one last time, you pulled your hair so it was halfway up and secured it with a ponytail. You didn’t wear heavy makeup, mascara and light foundation the most you wore on a good day, but you put on some red lipstick anyway.

He didn’t tell you what time the party started and you didn’t even have his phone number, but you knew the second you heard the loud bass vibrating against your wall. Locking your door behind you, you slowly walked down the driveway with butterflies in your stomach. It was already an hour after the music started and you wondered if he was still waiting for you to show up.

He probably already forgot about you.

You walked across his lawn, the tips of the grass blades tickling your toes in your flip flops, intending to awkwardly knock on the front door. Running through your head what you would say to him inside, you didn’t even notice a figure sitting on the porch until they were waving at you.

It was Jungkook.

“Hey,” he called over to you, standing up. “You took your sweet time getting over here.”

You giggled shyly to yourself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me outside.”

He removed the hoodie from over his head, running a hand through his black hair. You looked him up and down from his dark wash jeans to his baggy, loose-fitting sweatshirt, finding the sight of his hands digging into his front jean pockets really attractive for some reason. Your eyes finally trailed back up to his face to see if he had caught you staring only to see he was doing the same to you.

“Cute,” he said after a moment, one corner of his lips tilting up into a lopsided grin. “Come on.”

With his hands still in his jean pockets, he gestured with his elbow for you to follow him inside. You did as he said, then he paused at the front door, holding it open for you.

“Ladies first.”

Upon entering his house for the second time, it was loud and crowded with people huddled together in every corner. The bass was even louder inside—which you didn’t think was even possible—and you anxiously looked behind you in hopes of seeing Jungkook not far behind. As an introvert, parties never appealed to you. Even hanging out in a small group gave you intense anxiety, so you were definitely the type to hug the corners of a wall at a party or hang out with their pets instead of getting drunk.

As he walked over to stand at your side, he could tell you were anxious and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. A few guys greeted him with that weird shake that guys do. He grinned back that, making small talk for a moment, before his eyes fell back onto you.

“You’re not twenty-one, are you?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you playfully.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No. I’m only eighteen.”

“I knew it,” he said with a laugh, stepping away from the counter littered with beer bottles and half-full red solo cups. “I figured you were a freshman the moment I saw you.”

After digging through the fridge, he pulled out a pitcher of apple juice, pouring you a cup.

“You should have some, too,” you said with a giggle.

“Nah.” He smiled down at you from across the counter at that. “Orange juice is more my thing.”

You let out a loud at that, then covered your mouth with one of your hands in embarrassment.

“God, you’re cute,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “I like hearing you laugh, so don’t hide it.”

You took a sip of your apple juice at that, the cool drink sliding down your throat a nice contrast to the heat spreading over your cheeks. He continued to look at you, his elbows resting against the cool countertop. Feeling yourself getting a little too hot, either from him staring at you or all the sweat in the air from the bodies inside the house, you asked if there was a bathroom you could use.

“Yeah,” he replied and pointed behind you to the stairs. “It’s just upstairs and on your right.”

You muttered your thanks, setting your apple juice on the counter, then brushed past some people to find the stairs. Glancing over your shoulder once, you could see Jungkook watching you across the room.

As you quickly padded up the stairs, disappearing down the hallway. Jungkook took a swig of beer, giving himself some liquid courage before he followed you up the stairs. This was his chance to talk to you away from all his friends and various drunk people he didn’t know he invited. Although he wasn’t sure how well it would go, he couldn’t keep it in the shadows any longer. He ran up the stairs, skipping steps, and heard the faucet turn on. Licking his lips nervously, he knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” he heard back and he had to stifle a laugh.

“It’s me,” he said after a few seconds. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You opened the door, looking at him with curious, wide eyes. Stepping away to give him enough room to walk inside, he slowly brushed past you into the bathroom.

“It’s quieter here,” he mumbled, looking around as if it wasn’t the same bathroom he used every day.

“Yeah,” you agreed and looked at him expectantly with folded arms.

“You remember when you saw me naked that one time?”

“How could I ever forget?”

He laughed at that. “I’m sorry about that, but I just wanted to explain. I know that happened a month ago but you probably are still wondering about that. It was a little weird, huh?”

“A little bit…” you quietly replied, smiling shyly.

“I… I’m a, uh… I’m an exhibitionist.”

You could only stare up at him at that. Uncrossing your arms, you asked, “You’re a… You’re a what?”

“Exhibitionist. It means I get turned on when people see me naked. It’s a kink of—”

“Wh— Uh… You…”

“Maybe I should’ve transitioned you into this more gently…”

“M-Maybe. Does… Does that mean that you did that on purpose?!”

“No, no, no! It was an accident!” he frantically reassured you, waving his hands wildly. “I didn’t know you were going to be walking by—trust me. But I… may or may not have gotten turned on by…”

“…me seeing you naked?”

It was awkwardly silent and if you weren’t in the room, he would probably be kicking himself in the nuts for making you uncomfortable. He hadn’t even planned out what he was going to say to you or how. All he knew was he wanted to clear things up and try to make you understand him a little bit.

His head fell against the wall, tucking his hands into his front jean pockets. “That came out wrong.”

“Maybe… Maybe I should go…” you slowly said, already taking a step towards the closed door.

“Wait!” he yelled, moving himself to block off the door. “Hold on. I’m fucking sorry that this is probably making you uncomfortable but this isn’t actually what I wanted to talk about.”

“Then what is it you wanted to say?”

“I… Ah, fuck. I’m usually good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“I know you’re not that type of girl.”

“Type of girl?”

“I know how you’re going to respond but…”

“But what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “No one ever walks by my house early in the morning. I didn’t do it on purpose just to pop a boner. I didn’t even know you were there until…”

The two of you recalled at the same time how you had run away screaming.

“But that’s not what I wanted to say. I think you’re really fucking adorable. I’m kind of obvious about it, so you probably knew that already. And you also know that I hook up with a lot of girls at… here…”

You anxiously glanced at the door knob behind him.

“It turns me on when someone sees me naked and it turns me on to even fuck in public because just the thought of someone walking in on me with my dick out is… Fucking hell. Just the thought of it is… It’s never even mattered who it was or who I’m with either. I’ll fuck anyone anywhere and I’ll be… good to go. I’ve never really chased after anyone for sex because of it. But there’s… there’s something so fucking special about you. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes…”

“God,” he groaned, closing his eyes as his head made a thud when it banged against the door. “I figured as much. I could just tell by how you act.”

You now understood where he was going with this as you glanced down at his bulging erection straining against the front of his jeans, backing yourself into the sink. Your hands came to rest on the edge and gripped onto the porcelain tightly until your knuckles turned white. He probably thought that this was freaking you out but it actually was making you feel something down there.

And that made you very nervous.

“I want to fuck you so bad.”

You sucked in a breath at that, your legs shaking slightly but hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I haven’t had a good fuck in such a long time because all I can think about is you. Knowing you’ve never had sex before makes it even worse. You don’t even know how close I was to coming into your room last night and bending you over your desk—how close I was to pounding into you so hard that everyone in your fucking building would hear you screaming.”

“I… um…”

“And I’m not telling you this so that I can force you into anything you don’t want to do. I know you’re not that type of girl and would never force myself on anyone. I just needed to get this off my chest. I want to fuck you so badly, but I know you’re not into me like that. You’re probably waiting until marriage or some fairytale shit like that. I’m telling you this so that you stay the fuck away from me. Do you know how many times a day I pop a boner just from thinking about fucking you? It doesn’t even matter where—in a car, in this fucking bathroom, in the street. I would strangle a person just to bury my dick in you for even one fucking second.”

Instead of running past him and out the front door like a normal person, you stayed rooted to the spot. You bit into your bottom lip, then looked up at him to see him staring at your mouth.

“Okay.”

He blinked, his mouth falling open. “Okay? What are you—”

“I’ll have sex with you.”

He opened his mouth to object again, even though he was the one who brought it up, but you stepped forward and away from the sink. Did he really think just because you were a virgin you wouldn’t? He had to know how ridiculously good looking he was; the old lady across the street would even agree.

All you could think about the past week was the exact same thing he’d been thinking about. You wanted him to bend you over your desk. You wanted him to fuck you, even just for a second. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that all your neighbors would hear you screaming. All your fantasies of getting married to the perfect guy and giving your virginity to him on your wedding night on top of a bed littered with rose petals was out the window.

“I want you, too,” you whispered, grabbing onto his forearms.

His breath hitched at that, and then he was leaning more into the door to back away from you. You pulled buck, letting go of his arms as a hurt expression crossed your face.

“But you don’t want to,” you said quietly.

“I-I do! It’s just… Have you been fucking listening to me?” He reached for one of your hands but you backed into the sink again, looking at a crack in the wall instead of looking him in the eye. “I just… It would be a mistake before—”

“Mistake?” you asked him and your eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sorry for… I’m sorry.”

And then you were brushing past him to walk downstairs, the front door getting closer with each step. Jungkook didn’t even go after you, just stood there after you squeezed past him. He hadn’t even objected at all. It was the right thing to do, he thought to himself just as you closed the front door.

You didn’t even get to hear the rest of what he had to say.

You felt embarrassed.

You had gone above and beyond and actually told him you wanted to have sex with him, and then he just rejected you like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard in his life. You understood that he thought he was doing the right thing but he seemed to make up his mind on what you wanted. Once again, he was treating you like you were some porcelain doll that couldn’t make her own decisions. Why had he even brought it up if he wasn’t interested in that with you anyway? He made it sound like he was, but then he confused you when you shot you down like that. You didn’t understand what he wanted.

Days went by and you kept walking by his house, hoping he would change his mind, but he was never outside on the porch to wave at you like he had been before. You knew he was home but simply didn’t want to talk to you. Maybe it was for the best, you thought. You shouldn’t let one boy change your mind on whether or not you wanted to have sex before marriage. Your parents would be proud.

One particular day, however, it was raining hard.

You held your backpack above your head as you ran and you faintly heard the bus driving down the street after you got off at your stop. Looking at the sky, you jumped when you heard thunder. As you sprinted across the street, stepping into various puddles as you did and soaking your socks and shoes, you stopped to see you were standing across the street from Jungkook’s house. The rain had stopped, so you lowered your backpack from over your head, and slowly crossed the street in silence.

In one puddle, you failed to notice there was a large tree branch and fell flat on your face. You let out a cry of pain and slowly pulled yourself to sitting on the back of your heels. Feeling your knee, you pulled your hand back to see you were bleeding, which really wasn’t what you needed at all.

“Ow…” you cried out and felt tears form in the corners of your eyes.

Using the back of your sleeve, you wiped at your eyes just as a single tear rolled down your cheek. You sniffled, but slowly stood to your feet and looked at where the branch had scraped against your skin. Some parts of the wound were deeper than others and you sighed to yourself.

Then you heard a front door opening.

Your head snapped up to see none other than Jungkook jogging down the steps with a hoodie over his head, then stopping in front of you. His eyes trailed down to the wound on your thigh, grimacing.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you answered, pulling down your skirt. You moved to take a step back but faltered slightly. Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your shoulder at that, leading you to his front porch.

“Come on,” he said quietly, and you let him.

Closing the front door, he walked you over to his couch. Your hair was soaking wet from the rain and you left tiny puddles of water behind you on the hardwood floor of his entryway. He jogged up the stairs, telling you he was going to get you a towel, and returned less than a minute later. The couch sank from his weight when he sat next to you and he went to wrap the towel around you, ruffling your hair in an attempt to dry it. He laughed quietly to himself when he squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering cutely.

“How bad was it out there?” he asked, smiling warmly at you.

“It wasn’t that bad until ten minutes ago,” you answered, taking the towel from his hands. “I had just got off the bus when it started to rain, though. And then it was thundering, too.”

“That sucks,” he supplied. “You can stay here until it stops, if you want.”

You didn’t tell him that it’d already stopped, using the excuse that it would just start raining again if you left straight away.

“T-Thank you.”

You scratched at your leg and his eyes followed the movement, remembering you fell outside.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, looking at your thigh.

“A l-little bit,” you stuttered as you felt him staring at you.

“I got some band-aids. Maybe that’ll help,” he told you, then disappeared up the stairs again.

You listened to the sound of him walking around upstairs, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Glancing around his house, your eyes fell onto the television across the coffee table. Jungkook must’ve been watching something before he invited you inside. Although you’d been in his house twice already, it felt smaller when you knew it was just the two of you inside, unless his roommates were home, too. Sucking in a deep breath, you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, running a finger down the scratch on your leg. It would scab over eventually, so maybe you didn’t need a band-aid—not that a band-aid would even help since you would need a lot of them to even cover your wound. You pulled out your phone from the pocket inside your backpack, thankful you didn’t simply keep it in your back jean pocket because of the rain.

You looked terrible. 

Your hair was a mess and already frizzy from the heat. Your mascara wasn’t waterproof so it was a big, black mess under your eyes. You didn’t even know where to start so you just put your phone away, sighing to yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t have come inside and just went home. You only lived two houses away in the first place. Why did you even agree to come inside at all?

Deep down, you already knew the answer.

At the sound of him running down the stairs, you looked over the back of the couch. He held a wad of band-aids in his right hand, the other holding a hand towel.

“I’m back,” he said with a grin.

He sat next to you on the couch again, but then realized it would be an awkward angle. Noticing his discomfort, you turned so that you were facing him and lifted one of your legs onto the cushion. This gave him the perfect view up your skirt and he slowly tugged it down to cover you.

Taking the hand towel, he rubbed down your thigh and you closed your eyes at that. He must’ve soaked it in warm water because it felt very soothing on your bare skin. When you opened your eyes, you couldn’t look away from him as he continued to rub calming circular motions into your skin with his hand. His hair had fallen into his eyes and you wanted more than anything to run your fingers through his hair. The hand that wasn’t holding the towel was also caressing the skin on your other thigh. You wondered if he knew he was doing that but didn’t want him to stop, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Good?” he asked with a laugh when your head fell against the back of the couch, eyes closing in complete submission.

He grabbed onto your angled leg that wasn’t injured, straightening it so your foot was resting between him and the back of the couch. Placing the hand towel on the coffee table, he stared at your wound.

“Shit,” he groaned. “This must hurt a lot. What the hell did you do to yourself?”

“I, uh… I fell into a puddle. There was this giant tree branch there and it got me good, I guess.”

He laughed out loud at that, pulling a fist to his mouth as he did. You couldn’t help but smile back, glad that someone found it funny. Although, it was kind of ridiculous so maybe you did, too. He had the most beautiful laugh, like music to your ears. You knew he could make you smile just the sound of his laughter.

“I thought I told you to watch where you’re going,” he said with a playful smile.

You’d been watching his hand as it gripped your upper thigh, but then your head snapped up to look at him when he said that. He had said something like that back when he followed you off the bus.

He didn’t seem to remember, though, so you said quietly, “Sorry… I was kind of in a hurry to get home.”

“Nah. If it was me, I would’ve wiped out so much harder.”

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, and then he glanced back down at your thigh. Your wound went even under your skirt and you could tell he wanted to ask you if he could move it but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t want you to get any ideas after what happened at his party. You had basically thrown yourself at him, after all.

You pulled at your skirt, not so much to reveal your underwear but enough to see the rest of your wound. Your eyes widened, not realizing it went so far up your thigh. Jungkook looked at the band-aids he placed on the coffee table for a moment, then said, “We’re going to need some more band-aids.”

He went to move off the couch, but you grabbed his arm. “It’s okay! I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

Slowly, he relaxed back into the couch, your hand still grasping onto his arm. You didn’t let go of him and he noticed as he stared at your hand.

“Jungkook,” you said in a small voice. “Why didn’t you want to have sex with me? Is there something wrong with me?”

His eyes widened at that, not expecting those words to come out of your mouth at all. Were you crazy? Had you been listening to him at all?

“Maybe you forgot but I seem to remember having a fucking monologue about how much I want to have sex with you,” he said with a laugh but scooted away from you on the couch. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t say that.”

Your hand dropped into your lap when he pulled away. “Then why did you not want to last week?”

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mistake. What we would be doing would only be physical, and you deserve so much more than that,” he said softly.

“Why do you keep deciding things for me like I’m a child?”

You stood up, pulling your leg out from him and the couch. Grabbing your backpack leant against the coffee table, you placed its straps on your shoulders and pulled back your hair, heading for the door.

Instead of sitting there like you expected him to, he followed after you and placed a hand on the door when you went to open it. You jumped back, surprised, and clutched your hands to your chest. He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, his pupils dilated with what appeared to be raw need.

“You’re not making things easy for me.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand you at all, Jungkook. You’ll have sex with all these other girls but you won’t with me. Why am I so different? Is it because I’m inexperienced?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“You’re special.”

“Special?”

“I don’t want to just fuck you. I was going to… I was going to ask you out that night but I— I don’t— I stopped inviting them over and haven’t had sex for two weeks now. I wanted to do this right.”

You closed your mouth, all the words on the tip of your tongue fading into the air. He was going to ask you out? Why didn’t he?

“I like you so much that it drives me crazy.”

“I like you, too,” you said quietly, “but you seem to think I’m this good girl that isn’t deserving of anybody. You’re not my father or my brother or— Maybe you were right about me when we first met but… I’m attracted to you, too, and it wouldn’t be a mistake if we had sex right now. I promise you it wouldn’t be a mistake.”

Your backpack straps began to slip down the length of your arms and you let it fall to the ground with a thud. Taking a step closer, you lifted up your skirt and grabbed one of Jungkook’s hands. Without losing your nerve, you placed it over your drenched underwear and his eyes went wide.

“I want you, Jungkook.”

His head fell against the door, closing his eyes in almost defeat. He groaned out loud, cursing to himself. He grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

And then he was turning you around, pressing you into the door. His hands blindly pulled at the hem of your skirt, it pooling around your ankles a second later. He pressed his chest firmly against your back with him breathing heavily into your neck. You could feel his erection against you and sighed.

It was such a relief for you when he slipped his hand into your underwear.

“You’re fucking drenched,” he whispered into your ear, then licked the shell of your ear. “You don’t even need foreplay, do you?”

You wiggled your hips against his crotch in confirmation and he groaned at that.

“Fucking humor me, though, will you?”

And then his fingers were rubbing furiously at your sweet spot in a circular motion. Your head began to spin as you thought he knew exactly where to touch you. Thinking back to when you masturbated to him fucking you, you realized it felt so much better having someone else touch you. Your hips ground against him each time he gently pinched you in a certain spot and you exhaled shakily, enough to fog the door’s glass panels. You looked to his porch and saw two kids playing football across the street and panicked. Could they see what the two of you were doing right now?

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he suddenly asked, then pushed you more into the door, giving you no room to move away. “That someone could see you, see my fingers fucking into your pussy. You want them to see us, don’t you?”

You closed your eyes and moaned loudly at his crude words, not willing yourself to agree with him out loud but knowing he was right.

“But we’re not going to give them a show—at least not today.”

Then he was pulling you away from the door without taking his fingers out of your underwear. He rubbed you even as he walked you over to the dining room table, then bent you over. Just as one of his fingers went to your entrance, he pulled it out of you, sucking the digit into his mouth slowly.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked you, smoothing his hands over the skin on your back. Pushing up your shirt, he began to lick and kiss at the skin there before tugging at your underwear. “Huh?”

You heard him undoing his belt buckle, then his jeans fell to the floor a second later. You didn’t hear him pulling down his boxers and realized with a low moan from the back of your throat he hadn’t been wearing any. Your underwear was still around your heel, but he didn’t seem to care. You looked over your shoulder at him to see him looking down at you with a smirk on his face as he stroked himself, then bit your lip when he rolled a condom over the shaft. With each fast movement of his hand up and down his cock, he made sure the condom was secure before he grabbed your hip, using his other hand to guide himself into you slowly. It already felt bigger than your fingers and you groaned, but it wasn’t an unwelcome stretch. He was so thick that even the tip was stroking your walls, leaving no room for even one of his fingers. After the head of his cock was inside of you, he moved his hand away to grip the other side of your hip and thrusted himself forward to slide into you the rest of the way.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, fingers clenching and unclenching at the feeling. He wasn’t moving but you couldn’t form a single competent sentence, amazed at the feeling of him inside of you. There was a small spark deep within you that seemed to flicker on just by the thrust of his hips.

“You okay?” he asked after he stopped moving, rubbing circles in your hips.

You nodded at that and that was all he needed to finally start pounding into you. Moaning into the table, your nails scratched at the wood. You started to press yourself back against him and not just lay there while he fucked you, and then he was pressing down on your back.

“Curve your back downwards,” he whispered into your ear, and you did exactly that.

Almost immediately, you moaned out loudly as you could feel him brushing against a spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and he was grunting as his hips smacked against your ass, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He kept changing the pace—from fast pumps to deep thrusts.

“Can we…” you breathed as he kept hitting that spot inside of you. “Can we move to the couch?”

He didn’t answer you, but simply pulled you against him. Pulling out of you with a wet squelch, you whined lowly, but then he was turning you around and kissing you so hard that you could feel your lips begin to bruise. Your lips were tingling as he pulled away but then his lips brushed against your own again.

“Arms up,” he growled into your mouth, then kissed your bottom lip.

You lifted your arms and he easily pulled your shirt over your head, then reached behind you to undo your bra. At the sight of your bare chest, he cursed to himself, then walked himself backwards and pulled you with him to keep kissing you until you both toppled over onto the couch. He flipped you over onto your back, your hair framing your face beautifully. His eyes softened at that and he settled himself on top of you, kissing your neck, the shell of your ear, until he reached your chest. His tongue swirled around one of your nipples and you moaned loudly, cradling his head to your chest, then he was giving the same attention to your other nipple.

His hand reached down to firmly grasp himself and slip back into you, the both of you moaning in unison. Your underwear was still wrapped around one of your feet somehow and he ran his other hand that was rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger down your stomach torturously slow and to your leg to grab the delicate fabric and toss it somewhere behind him. Then, he was smoothing his hand back up your leg to wrap it around his waist, anchoring you to him. On instinct, you wrapped your other leg around him and he started to hit that same spot he was hitting when you were bent over on the dining room table. You twitched in pleasure and he caught that, smiling down at you.

Your hands bunched the fabric of his t-shirt around his hips, dragging it upwards until he pulled it the rest of the way off and threw it in the same general direction as your underwear.

“You’re always so cute, even like this,” he whispered against your mouth when he leaned down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you up so you were sitting in his lap. Thrusting into you from below with fast strokes, your head fell back and your lips disconnected. The hands at your back kept you from falling over, then slipped to hold your ass cheeks in his hands.

You moaned loudly, then found his lips again blindly, breathing into his mouth, “This feels s-so g-g-good, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he asked, licking and biting at your swollen lips.

“You’re so big and…” you started to say, then your mouth opened into a silent scream when he gave a deep thrust in appreciation. “You’re getting to places even m-my fingers couldn’t r-reach. I can feel you in my t-throat.”

“Your fingers, huh?”

Your eyes snapped open at that, realizing you just admitted you masturbated out loud. Instead of asking you to go into more detail, he started thrusting into you even faster and your breasts bounced with each movement of his hips.

“H-Harder,” you managed to whisper in a hoarse voice.

Instead of saying anything, he obeyed you and you ran your fingers through his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. You glanced down at where he disappeared inside you with each thrust, whimpering at the sight. His hips were a blurred movement and you felt like he was impaling you on his cock. That spark you felt the moment he thrusted into you felt like it was about to explode any second. He growled into your mouth but kept going at the same pace, your moans urging him to go even faster. You could feel yourself almost reach your peak, but then he was spurting his cum once, twice, three times into the latex condom.

You whined when he pulled out of you, then felt him moving further down the couch to pull you by the back of your legs so his face was inches from your vagina. He looked up at you, as if asking if you were okay with this, and you nodded frantically. He chuckled and it vibrated against you, still sensitive from how hard he’d been fucking into you just minutes ago. He licked an experimental strip from the bottom of you all the way to where your lips met, sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips. You’d been so close already that you knew it wouldn’t take you long to reach your first orgasm.

One of your hands fell back against the arm of the couch and gripped it tightly. When he added in a finger and started pushing it in and out of you at a slow yet deep pace, you arched your back. He alternated from using his fingers to penetrate you and circle your clit. Your hips began to grind against his face, whispering desperately for him to go faster, to go harder.

Your legs closed instinctively when the hot feeling inside of you felt like it was about to burst, having never orgasmed before. It made you want him to stop but have him keep going at the same time. He easily pried your legs apart and held them there as he went back to using his tongue instead of his fingers. You couldn’t control yourself as you kept moaning—and loudly, at that.

And then you were coming apart on his tongue.

He pulled back with your cum coating his chin, then wiped it off with the back of his hand. After a few seconds, your eyes opened tiredly, beaming up at him.

“Did you…” you tried to ask, but were panting too heavily. “Did you mean… what you said?”

He stood up and removed the condom, throwing it into the trash. Pulling your spent form up so that he could situate you between him and the back of the couch, you stared at each other happily.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” he said with a soft laugh.

“About…” you trailed off and your fingers danced across the skin of his sweaty chest. The fringe that always fell in his eyes was matted to his forehead but you could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face, too. He looked into your eyes, curling you more into your chest. “…going out with me?”

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” he whispered, pecking your lips once, then another before he pulled away. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t think you’d want a relationship with me and just wanted to…” You hesitated, then continued, “fuck.”

He sat up slightly. “Let me just remind you that this happened because of you. I wanted to wait but you practically threw yourself at me and gave me no choice but to give into your demands.”

Your cheeks burned at that, then you were shoving at his chest. “That’s not—! I didn’t throw myself at yo— Fine, maybe I did, but who was the one who followed me into a bathroom just to tell me how badly he wanted to fuck me, huh? I seem to remember that was you.”

“Say fuck just one more time,” he said, and you sat up, rolling your eyes.

“Why? You say it enough for the both of us.”

He laughed but didn’t push you any further. Standing to his feet, he offered you the palm of his hand and you accepted it. You looked around for your underwear, then walked over to it in a pile with his jeans and boxers. Just as you started to slide them up your legs, however, he stopped you.

“Take those panties off right now.”

You paused, the delicate fabric halfway up your thighs, and looked over at him in surprise. Did he want to… Already?

“Not for that, but you should try living the exhibitionist lifestyle,” he said with a grin. “Feel how freeing it is. Walk with me.”

When you didn’t move, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, tossing your panties behind him once again. You pounded your fists against his back but not with any force behind them. He just laughed and you felt the vibrations, smiling into his bare back.

“So, I’m thinking we go to a drive-in theater tomorrow.”

You perked up at that as he set you down on the kitchen counter. “Really? I love the movies.”

“That’s nice but we’re not going there to see a movie,” he said with a sly grin.

“We’re not going to be driving there naked, are we?”

He moved to take some lunch meat out of the fridge along with some mayonnaise, then went through the cabinets overhead to pull out some white bread. When he dug a butterknife out of one of the drawers, you hopped off the counter and poked at his cheek.

“We’re not, right?” you asked again, but he ignored you. “Jungkook?!”

And that’s when one of his roommates walked in. He let out a sound of protest when one of his shoes kicked at your skirt by the front door, then his eyes fell onto your naked figures arguing in the kitchen.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JUNGKOOK!” he yelled, dropping his backpack to the floor with a thud. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to put some clothes on—?! Who is sh— I’m going back on campus. I hate you all.”