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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

Text

what happens, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Eh, well, Jeon Jungkook came to Vegas to eat and get drunk with his six friends. He didn't think one of them would bring a girl along and he certainly didn't think he was going to end up sneaking about with his dick down her throat.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of alcohol consumption and gambling (on vacation in Las Vegas); Yoongi's involved (?); slow burn + fluff, tbh; smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, flashing each other(???), making out in public, handjob, cowgirl, nipple play, fingering, mild breathplay, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - ft OT6 being clueless and drunk, oop; Jungkook's POV

"They're going to hear–"

"Then you better close your mouth."

Whatever protests Jeon Jungkook had prepared immediately disintegrated the second her soft lips touched his suddenly exposed skin. Oh, fuck. Weren’t there rules to this? A step-by-step guide? A goddamn instruction manual? Fuck, fuck, fuck! There was no unpleasant stickiness of lip gloss, just the pure softness that he had tasted earlier, now on his hip, followed by fingertips trailing down, the light caress burning memories into his future dreams. His own hands flew up and slapped his mouth shut, his eyes going up to the expensive hotel ceiling.

One wall over, his friends were screaming and doing shots.

Not even a wall. Only a half-wall and slightly open French doors of the suite separating his mostly drunk friends and Jeon Jungkook with his pants rapidly sliding down his knees.

Her hot, wet tongue licked down his v-line.

He squeaked past his closed fingers even though the karaoke music was too loud for his friends to hear him.

"H... Hurry..."

She pressed her tongue flat against throbbing, taut skin, searing the scandalous moment into his memories.

His head snapped down, his eyes going wide. Saw the image before him. Spread thighs, cute black two-piece set of a flared skirt and crop top with red flames all over the bottom. Her fluffy black jacket tossed aside. Too hot, oh no, her elegant hands poised on his hips and waist, pushing up his black t-shirt, turning him into an image under her grasp. An image of lust, his hard cock pulsing against her dripping tongue as knowing eyes observed his face before those dark mauve lips wrapped around the head of his cock, pushing him into soft, wet tightness.

Jungkook shoved his palm on top of his moan and forced it back into his shaking chest.

It started innocent enough.

She hadn't even been on Jungkook's radar. Didn't even really know her until a few days ago. He knew of her, in passing, simply as one of his hyung's friends. An artist or something. He couldn’t really remember.

"She wants to come with us to Las Vegas."

"Hah? That's so random. Why?" Kim Seokjin asked, his handsome face twisting into a confused but not quite disapproving frown.

"I thought this was a just-us-guys trip," Kim Taehyung added in his deep baritone, pushing back his long dark brown hair.

"If she tags along, we can book that huge family suite though," Kim Namjoon pointed out. "Since the hotel is giving a discount for groups of eight or more people."

"Ah, I dunno, we're all gonna be piss drunk..."

"Which is why I figured it'd be a good idea. She doesn't drink or gamble. We won't have to take care of her and she can make sure we don't choke on our vomit in our sleep."

Min Yoongi had brought up the idea in the first place. She was primarily his friend, after all.

"Then why does she want to come? We're a mess," Jung Hoseok had laughed.

"Because she wants to come to Las Vegas to gain some personal inspiration. She'll be at a luxury hotel on the strip if she tags along with us, which will be much more convenient when it comes to getting around."

Park Jimin's eagerly mischievous face finally popped up from his phone to add lewd commentary. "I thought she got enough inspiration from your d–"

Seokjin bonked him on the head before he could finish.

"Ow!"

Yoongi continued calmly as if Jimin had said nothing at all. "If you guys think it would be a bother, I will tell her we've already booked it and can't change it. She's not going to be upset."

Taehyung groaned. "No, no, that's mean. I say let her come. You wouldn't even mention it if you thought it was a bad idea, hyung."

The second oldest shrugged, brushing back his long black hair, looking bored. Classic Yoongi. "She's probably going to wander around ninety percent of the time and crash for ten. You all probably won't even notice she's there. We can always meet up before and you guys can see what you think."

Seokjin tapped his full lips. He was the oldest. "She did lend me her extra Joy-Cons when mine were being fixed for drifting. She can't be that bad, I suppose..." And a video game addict.

Namjoon waved a hand. "Eh, it's better to book sooner than later. I'm in. Let's go for dinner too before the trip. Might as well."

Hoseok chimed in, nodding. "More the merrier!"

Jimin prodded Yoongi in the arm. He enjoyed tiptoeing om the line of danger. "You guys going to get a drive-thru wedding? Is that why we are going to Vegas? Eh?"

He received a deadpan stare in return.

Yoongi then turned away and cocked his head to Jungkook, who had listened to this entire conversation with vague but silent interest. He was trying to remember what she looked like. Was it that one... or was it the woman with that dangerous smirk?

"Hey. If you're not comfortable with it, I'll nix the whole plan," Yoongi said to him.

Jungkook scrunched his face, frowning. "Ah... what does she look like again, hyung?"

Yoongi had raised his dark eyebrow, but fished out his phone, poking the screen. He turned it around to an image of himself, another male friend, and a woman, seemingly at some event.

"This is her."

It was, in fact, the one with the dangerous smirk.

"Why don't you drink?"

"Because a girl shouldn't get drunk on a vacation with seven guys."

It wasn't so much her answer that gave Jungkook the chills up and down his spine. It was her casual smile. Something in that intense gaze. Inviting but somehow immoral, sitting in front of her meal in between Namjoon and Yoongi. Just something about it. Something about those eyes that said, ah, the taste of power, and Jungkook had no idea if those eyes meant herself, the two men beside her, or him, the one she was staring at right now.

He also had no idea if those chills were a warning or want.

"Yah! We're not going to do anything. We're not scoundrels!" Seokjin butted in, waving his steak knife at her.

With a swift flick, she picked up her own and pushed the tip of the blade back down to Seokjin's plate, chiding him with a tongue click.

"Besides, alcohol tastes disgusting," she chuckled, the tip of her tongue sticking out, childish and yet...

What are you thinking, Jungkook? Stop that!

"Sounds like you're allergic to a good time," Seokjin chittered just as childishly, already comfortable with teasing. That was how Seokjin was. He tended to break the tension and facilitate the personalities of others.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she warned jokingly and, there it was, that smirk again. Dangerous but pretty, like a cocktail loaded with alcohol. You knew it was there, and yet it was so sweet and delicious it was hard to notice. "That's what Vegas is all about."

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," Hoseok chimed on near-prefect English, or at least Jungkook thought so, not that he had any idea what the phrase meant.

Back then.

It escalated far too quickly, just like a wild night.

He didn't even notice it at first. Jungkook never thought he was clueless, but now he figured he must be. There weren’t rules when it came to attraction, no step-by-step guide on how fast or slow you could learn to want someone, no instruction manual for how to proceed when someone asks to have you and you realize far too late that you have to have them too. Too late because the desire was too strong and Jungkook learned he too could get to the point where he forgot how to stop himself, forgot to stop and think, hm, perhaps don't fuck Yoongi's female friend because you don't know what's going on there, yet every interaction was throwing back another drink and Jungkook realized far too late that he was, in fact, blackout drunk on… her.

That was the only way he could describe it.

It was a small thing at first, a single sip.

In the airport, he moved too fast in and bumped into her, dropping his passport and ticket. She caught it as his hand collided into hers, his fingers closing in, gliding over smooth skin interrupted by silver rings.

"S-Sorry!"

She was wearing a face mask and oversized hoodie, looking like a black marshmallow with colorful splatter paint accents on the hoodie. Her sweet perfume drifted towards him. She wasn’t not quite looking in his direction.

"S'kay."

Her hand turned and passed his documents back to him.

"Here."

Her fingertips grazed the side of his hand, her nails nicking at his wrist. His breath hitched all of a sudden, so faint he hoped she didn't hear.

Her eyes shifted to glance at him.

He couldn't see her mouth but there was a define curve of the little puffs under her eyes. A cute eye-smile before she moved past him to the check-in kiosk.

It was small sips.

The cocktail as so sweet that he couldn’t even taste the alcohol.

Maybe she didn't actually notice his gasp. Maybe she was simply being polite. It didn't mean anything anyway. She didn't stand near him during boarding; she chatted with Jimin and Taehyung. She sat next to Yoongi and Hoseok on the plane, at the window seat. Jungkook sat behind her, Seokjin in the middle of him and Namjoon who needed to be in the aisle because of his height. Jungkook thought about asking Hoseok to switch with him, but his hyung was avidly in conversation and he didn't want to interrupt despite wanting more legroom.

Well, he did.

But he didn't.

"Jungkook?"

He started a bit, seeing her peer through the crack between the seats. It was already mid-flight, the period of time when the lights were off and the plane was only soft murmurs. He hadn't expected it, halfway between putting his headphones away so he could nap. Seokjin was already in dreamland, eye mask and all. Namjoon was absorbed in a book.

Her husky whisper through the seats had sent chills up and down his spine.

It felt like a secret, even though they were surrounded by people and his friends.

Her name spilled out of his lips, breathless.

"Uh... yeah?"

She wiggled a bit and her eyes popped over the top of her seat, her hair curling over part of her forehead.

Oh, fuck.

"Do you want the rest of my apple juice? I'm tired but I don't want it to spill if I fall asleep. Yoongi said you'll drink it."

Her eyes sparkled in the low light. Perhaps teary from sleepiness, but, man, did they look captivating.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I'll drink it."

Her hand popped up, holding the half-full plastic cup.

"I drank from this side, so this side is untouched."

"It's okay, I don't–"

Jungkook stopped himself.

He was about to say, I don't mind, but then he suddenly became aware that Namjoon was still awake. Not that the older man had moved anything but a page in his book, and yet... well, it was still weird wasn't it, he didn't know her very well, it would be strange to just...

He held out his hand, reaching for it.

"Ah, okay. Thanks. I was thinking the drink portions were really small."

She handed it to him, untouched side first, still only showing the top half of her face. "Thank you, Jungkook."

He caught her gaze the second she said his name again. Those orbs gleamed in the low light, and he could hear it against his skin, Jungkook, his own name like a spell, giving him a weird fuzzy feeling, a candle flame flickering against his heart, heating it up, and now his blood was humming in his veins, a light buzz all over his body.

It was all in his imagination.

Jungkook slowly lowered the plastic cup of apple juice.

He nodded, not trusting any other noise he would make thereafter. Her hand was resting on the top of the headrest, beside her head. She blinked slowly. He paid attention to every detail, those inquisitive eyes, the placement of her fist, the curious observation she kept on him for the moment.

Milliseconds it must have been.

Then the little puffs under her eyes curved up into an eye-smile before she plopped back down, turning back the correct way.

Jungkook looked down at the amber liquid.

Took a sip.

It tasted like apple juice, obviously.

Before he had time to think, Jungkook snuck a peek at Namjoon. His hyung’s eyes were focused on his book, looking studious in his glasses and serious expression, absorbing what he was reading. He didn’t even glance in Jungkook's direction.

Okay. Safe.

He looked back down at the cup. There was no visible marking on the edge. She hadn't worn any lip product. It wasn’t easy to tell which side she drank from. That must be why she pointed it out.

Jungkook stared at her side.

Don't. That would be weird.

He took another sip.

Don't.

He turned the cup in his hands to her side.

Come on. You don't really know her. The only thing you know is that she's Yoongi-hyung's friend and she makes art. You don't even know what kind of art. You didn't even pay attention.

Jungkook turned the cup back to his side and drank the rest of the apple juice. The tip of his index finger grazed the other side of the cup. He remembered her lips. He found that he had already memorized the color and the shape.

Then Jungkook realized he hadn't seen them since the dinner.

The second interaction was akin to taking a double shot of dark liquor too fucking fast.

"Ah! Sorry!"

"It's fine. I'm about to leave."

Jungkook nearly threw himself out of the bathroom, but she grabbed his naked arm and yanked him back in before letting him go and going back to what she was doing.

"I-I-I'm so sorry, I forgot–"

"Believe it or not, I've seen a man naked before. You and your ass in boxer briefs is not a great shock," she chuckled, shaking out her hair from the clip and placing it next to the sink, checking her appearance one last time in the giant hotel bathroom mirror.

Jungkook immediately put his hands over his crotch, seeing his bedhead and bewildered, half-asleep expression in the clear reflection. He was, indeed, naked except for his underwear, stumbling into the bathroom after the first night in a different country. Oh, shit. His face was a little puffy from the sodium of the buffet dinner of last night. His black hair was sticking up in every direction. He was still toned and muscular from his workouts, but that would certainly disappear after a week in Las Vegas. The harsh bathroom light caught the gleam of his silver lip ring and increased the stark contrast of the tattoos on his right arm, the etched ink standing out against his tan skin.

He was standing behind her, and, damn.

Damn.

She looked so fucking hot in a blood-red slip dress that skimmed over her body. Black mesh shirt underneath. Legs for days, shapely and powerful. Clean winged liner and stained red lip. Simple, but effective.

She turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

He swallowed too fast. "Nothing. Sorry. I should have knocked. And put pants on."

She removed her gaze from him and he finally exhaled, not realizing he had held his breath for so long.

"S'fine. Like I said, I'm about to go."

He attempted to make conversation to make the situation less awkward. "Ah? Where?"

"A museum," she replied absentmindedly. She plucked her phone from the edge of the bathtub, along with a purple pouch that seemed to hold her makeup.

No further explanation.

Uh.

Her brows furrowed and she suddenly looked at him intensely, the directed attention making him freeze again.

"Don't feel weird,” she said calmly. “It's no big deal. Here, I'll make it even for you."

Then she grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled up.

Any residual sleepiness he had vaporized immediately.

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

The screws of nervous tension holding his jaw up had loosened immediately at the image of delicious hips framed by black lace and red velvet, complete with a tiny satin bow at the center. Juicy thighs that connected with a visible dip, framing a perfect spot to shove his hand into and grip the soft inner thigh, up, up to a slender waist aching for his touch, the cropped hem of the mesh shirt revealing a mole under her left breast and hints of a matching bra to those sinful panties.

The shock to his system was so strong that Jungkook nearly choked.

"Now we're square."

What?!

She dropped the hem.

Waved and waltzed out.

Jungkook stood alone, standing in the expensive ass hotel bathroom in a foreign country with a rising tent in his thin boxer briefs.

Did she...?

He wandered to the sink in a daze, shuffling awkwardly due to his erection. Was he dreaming? Was this real life? How did she develop that kind of reckless confidence? Was there something in the Vegas water? Was that a power move? What did it mean? Why was he turned on?

Why am I so fucking turned on?

He had chills up and down his spine, blood buzzing in his veins, and Jungkook looked into the mirror to find his shaking lips parted, breathless, aching for those soft-looking pink lips murmuring, now we're square, to cover his and capture him.

No. Come on. Get a grip.

He ran his fingers through his hair, fixing it the best he could with nature's natural comb, attempting to collect himself physically as his brain attended to the mental side. His lips were still trembling, making the mole under them quiver as well.

Jungkook shut his mouth.

Don't get carried away. It's nothing.

"Sorry. Forgot my clip."

Jungkook nearly squeaked as her elegant hand glided past his left arm, snatching the obsidian hair clip from the sink counter. Her lithe frame suddenly behind him, pressing against his for half a second. His body jerked at the contact, instinctively searching for the heat.

What!

Five fingertips splayed over the small of his back, gently nudging him to his original position in front of the sink. His hard dick bumped the bottom of the counter and Jungkook had to bite his lower lip to avoid making any embarrassing noises. Thankfully it was part of the length and not the head. It wasn't painful. Only faint pressure.

No, what really made him almost moan was the shivers that erupted all over his body as the fingers of her right hand touched his bare back.

They stayed there.

And so did the chills, radiating from her touch.

His eyes darted forward, seeing part of her reflection behind him. Her eyes were peering over his shoulder, the lower half of her face covered by his taller frame.

She said nothing.

It… It’s nothing.

That little eye-smile returned.

Okay. Maybe it's not nothing.

She held up the hair clip.

"I forgot this."

She waited for him to respond.

He swallowed hard, steeling his voice. "R... Right." It came out gruffier and deeper than he intended.

She removed her hand from his back.

Jungkook realized that he missed her touch already.

She tilted her head, but her lips remained hidden behind his shoulder. Her gaze remained on him, longer and longer each time, examining his face despite his obviously naked torso, and he found himself thinking, go ahead and look, it's fine, I don't mind, and simultaneously, that's nuts, of course she should only look at your face, what are you thinking, his heart thudding in his chest, rattling his ribcage.

The eye-smile returned, cute petite puffs of amusement.

"I hope you end up liking Vegas as much as I do, Jungkook."

And then she turned around, leaving the bathroom with very little sound.

"Jungkook."

He was dead.

"Jungkook."

If he wasn't dead, he certainly wasn't alive. In a state of limbo, maybe. The world was fuzzy and he had a vague memory of a toilet. Huh. Strange, considering he was pretty sure toilets were meant to be used from the other end of the human body. Why would he be facing it?

Five points of gentle contact landed on his collarbones and upper chest.

Skin to skin.

Jungkook gasped as if he had been under water the entire time, his eyes snapping open. Next to him, Taehyung let out a particularly loud and disgustingly moist snore. Jungkook was too preoccupied with the scene before him to scoff or address the noise.

He was too busy looking at the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

Well.

That was what his drunken brain thought, anyway.

Then Jungkook realized he was conscious of the thought, so how truly drunken was his observation? Was it actually his subconscious revealing himself? Were his inhibitions being released because of the violent amount of liquor he consumed or–

Yoongi's female friend, wearing only a black bra and hip-hugging black sweats, held out a tall plastic cup of water and a white pill.

Was she going to drug him?

Jungkook took both.

"Hydration and to prevent hangover tomorrow," she explained calmly.

She was going to drug him, but not in the sexy way. Not that he wanted that. Well. Maybe. He wasn't exactly in his best state of mind. Judgement and common sense were currently lacking. She watched him as he took the pill and took a large gulp of water to swallow.

"Thanks," he croaked out.

Nice, Jungkook. That was hot.

She smiled.

It made her eyes gleam in the semi-darkness that was hotel rooms in big cities.

Meanwhile, Jimin grunted as Taehyung threw his leg over the other man, treating him like a convenient body pillow instead of a human being whose soft cheeks vaguely resembled mochi. Neither woke up to witness the strange interaction of a shirtless, half-dead Jungkook and a shirtless, water-and-hangover-cure fairy.

He drank silently, staring into her eyes.

She waited patiently.

He finished his water.

She reached over and Jungkook leaned in.

Five points of gentle contact on his chest and he jumped as he felt her fingertips press to his skin, seeing his own shirt on the floor, finally registering that he must have ripped it off before flopping headfirst onto the bed. His heart beating fast under her touch, chills up and down his spine, and he...

She plucked the plastic cup from his hand and began to rise.

Instantly, his right hand shot over and grasped her wrist.

Their eyes connected.

"Wait."

He whispered it, like a secret. Also because he didn't want to sound like a zombie rising from the dead again. It still sounded grainy and rough to his ears, but she paused, looking at him. Her hair was messy, tumbling down one side, no make-up, parted lips glossy with lip balm. Effortlessly pretty. He was trying to find the right words.

"I..."

It was at this moment that he realized he did not know what the magic words for this moment were.

"What... what kind of art do you make?" Jungkook asked.

Taehyung snorted. Jimin mumbled at him to shut up and get down from there. Jungkook remained mesmerized by the shirtless woman holding the emptied plastic cup that he now realized was a souvenir soda glass that read Viva Las Vegas. He had no idea what that meant. Maybe his English truly was dogshit.

Later that week, Jungkook realized that it wasn't English.

The world of languages was truly difficult.

"Everything," she replied softly.

He was still holding her wrist. She didn't pull away.

"Everything?" Jungkook echoed back, quiet in the silence of heavy snoring.

She nodded. "I made Yoongi's clothes for the promotional photos of his mixtape. I shot and edited those pictures. I painted the mural in Hoseok's bedroom too." She pointed to the chocolate brown blazer on the floor, thrown carelessly against the armchair. For some unknown reason, the armchair was on its side. "I made the flower brooch on Taehyung's jacket. Stuff like that." The brightly colored fabric flowers were slightly flattened, white, pink, purple, blue, orange. "My actual paying job is working at the antique shops. I go around the country, restoring old furniture. It's what my dad used to do. Sometimes I buy and sell my own." She frowned, ticking her head sheepishly in her explanation. "I bet you do something more interesting."

"Oh... I'm a personal trainer."

She nodded.

Silence.

Except for the car honking loudly outside.

Usually people looked down at his body when Jungkook stated his profession, but she continued staring at his face. Moments passed. Maybe an eternity. He didn't know. Couldn't know. Didn't care. The world was her touch and her face before him. She smiled and the little puffs under her eyes became more prominent.

Then she pointedly looked down at his hand still holding her wrist.

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. The chills returned.

"You can let go now."

"S-Sorry, I..."

He lowered his head, feeling a strange sense of shame, and then came face-to-face to her breasts gently cupped in black satin, the delicate scalloping flush against the curve, not that far from his hand, if he just reached out, he would touch them, but, no, that was inappropriate, at least look up, Jungkook lifted his head again, let go, his fingers slipping from her wrist, the possibility floating in his head, just do it, looked into her eyes, you only have the guts to do it right now anyway, shaking breath, lean in and, to his surprise, she was leaning in too, closing his eyes as their faces neared, and…

Air.

Her warm breath feathered against his ear, five points of gentle contact on his collarbones and upper chest to stop him from coming forward any further.

"Maybe when you have your wits about you, yeah?"

Jungkook was highly unsure what that meant. Even when he was completely sober, he did not really have his wits about him when he was in her presence. It was more akin to chasing around his own brain cells every five seconds, eventually giving up to space out instead to avoid embarrassment.

"It's cheating," she purred. "If you try to come onto me when you're drunk."

Her middle finger caressed the pocket at the base of his throat. Jungkook shivered, blood roaring through his vessels, his skin tingling, hiding in the safety of his closed eyelids.

"It's not... cheating."

"You know how you act, Jungkook. Don't pretend."

So fast, so fast, his heart was beating so fast.

"If you act dangerous, danger will come and find you."

He inhaled and her hair smelled wonderful. Turned his head and he felt the warmth of skin close to his nose, so close, and he lowered his voice, breathing just as soft, it is not nothing, it is something, and maybe it was the cocktails, the beers, her touch, the moment, the pressure of everything hanging in the balance of his next words, hushed suspension like an acrobat ready for the amazing stunt of the grand finale.

"I think," Jungkook whispered into her ear. "I think danger has found me already, so maybe she should give it her best shot."

"Shit, my bad–"

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna go soon."

She yawned in the middle of the afternoon, blinking the sleep away. Black gingham loose short-sleeved button-down shirt with matching shorts. Not the same thing she wore last night. Jungkook vividly remembered every detail of last night.

Lust was more sobering than he thought.

Maybe it depended on the potency and strength.

She scratched her cheek, her lips twisting in thought. "Sorry about running off, but you heard the retching, had to make sure the vomit wasn't on the floor or something, thankfully Seo–" She paused abruptly, clearing her throat. "Thankfully, the person made it to the toilet."

Jungkook felt a mischievous grin itch onto his face. "I'm glad you made sure hyung was okay."

She frowned and ran a hand through her bedhead, messing it up and making it sexier. Uncapped her bamboo toothbrush and looped around him, running it lightly under the faucet before turning the water off.

"I didn't tell you who it was."

"Nope."

She backed up, unzipping the purple pouch under her arm, taking out a travel toothpaste. Caught him staring as she maneuvered the toothpaste onto the bristles, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook tapped the sink counter in front of him.

"You can stand here."

Tilted his head a little, letting his freshly done hair graze his cheekbones.

"With me."

Her eyes followed his hand, up his arm, to his oversized white t-shirt and down his jeans, back up, flickering to the matching jean jacket by the unused hotel bathtub, then back to his clean, moisturized face and intentionally mussed hair. She took in his done-up appearance very deliberately, maintaining eye contact in her just-woken-up state.

She cocked her head, wordlessly sticking her toothbrush in her mouth.

There was something sexy about it, slightly dismissive, but also a confidence that continued because she didn't stop looking at him. Simply brushed her teeth with him standing right there. Almost... domestic in how little she seemed to mind, as if she was accustomed to watching him get ready. She was just now beginning her day after babysitting seven drunk men all night. Tonight, the same seven were supposed to go to a buffet and then to a concert. The goal was to not get completely drunk so they could at least remember the majority of the concert.

That was the goal, anyway.

She brushed her teeth and observed him as Jungkook adjusted his necklaces and checked his face in the mirror again, sneaking glances at puffed cheeks full of toothpaste suds and very focused brushing. Silent, but attentive to his movements.

She would be really cute to wake up to.

Her eyes found his and Jungkook looked away quickly, his hands drifting over the plethora of small fragrance bottles by the sink. All the guys had left their respective signature scents there, the last step before stepping out of the bathroom. He saw his own but paused, picking up a different one instead. Took off the silver cap and sniffed lightly, breathing in a warm, sharp scent that had a hint of fresh citrus mixed with the salt of the ocean.

Then he almost shattered it when he felt the warmth of a hip and thigh press against his own.

"O-Oh!"

She couldn't respond because she was spitting into the sink and rinsing her mouth out, but Jungkook couldn't even bring himself to look, trying to contain the chills going up and down his spine. Skin tingling, breath thinning, mind hazy at the closeness, clutching the expensive cologne that wasn't his. Out of instinct and desire not to look like a complete creep, he sprayed the sides of his neck and wrists, dousing himself in the rich and intense scent, although that wasn't the reason for the heady feeling consuming him at the moment.

"That's Yoongi's."

Jungkook started, seeing her wipe her hands on a hotel towel. Her purple pouch was now in the sink counter, her toothbrush sticking out.

"W... What?"

"You used his cologne," she remarked calmly.

How does she know...? He tried to speak, but found himself tongue-tied, suddenly realizing how close she was to him, wiping her face clean with a damp cloth, her skin glistening in the bathroom light, side by side, like a girlfriend, a lover, his...

She ticked her chin to the little bottle in his hands. "He made me buy him the travel size when I was out because he forgot to pack any. I asked him what it was called and he could only describe the bottle." She sighed absentmindedly, as if it was a nuisance, and yet there was a smile dancing on her lips. "He kept saying, the blue one, I kept telling him, I'm in the men's section, there's a lot of blue ones, and he–"

She stopped speaking.

Jungkook found himself staring at her in the mirror and she was staring back.

If there was noise outside the room, he couldn't hear it. He was too busy looking into striking eyes that struck him, her head turning, slow motion, his breath stilling, heart crashing, from reflection to flesh, shoulder to shoulder.

Now looking at each other.

He willed his body to be still as his heartbeat scattered to the wind. Her lips looked so inviting and perfect. Pink. Glossy. Soft. Plush. Kissable. He thought he had gotten close to his chance last night, but perhaps that was building up to this.

The little puffs under her eyes curved upwards, those orbs sparkling with mirth.

Jungkook hesitated, realizing he had already closed half of the distance.

"What's with your eyes?" she suddenly asked.

He blinked, confused. "What?"

She smiled under him. Mischievous and playful, similar to a cat caught doing something naughty and knowing their owner would do nothing to punish them.

"Your big peepers."

My big what?

"You're staring so big that it's a little unsettling."

He jerked back, spinning to the mirror and finding his own shocked, deer-in-headlights expression. "S-Sorry! Sorry, it's just–!"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Jungkook felt his whole body burst into flames.

Not literally. Well, that’s how it felt like, anyway. Record high-speed embarrassment burning his neck and cheeks, the sudden rush of validation far too fast in far too short of a time span. It ate him up and made him whole, the subtle affection an injection right into his blood, his voice of reason muffled, you shouldn’t, be careful, but he didn't give a fuck. Jungkook told the inner voice to shut up and bring out his worst behavior instead, this isn’t nothing so I could make it something, impulsiveness taking the reins. How many sips of her was it now? The alcohol was kicking in full force.

"Next time."

She whispered into his ear and walked out.

He had no idea what he would have done if she hadn't left so abruptly, but it would have been a sight for Jimin and Taehyung as they stumbled into the bathroom arguing about the best flavor of donut from the hotel breakfast buffet earlier that morning.

Gambling was not a good habit to start, but Jungkook chose to indulge.

Drunk and high off the excitement of the concert, everyone was trying their luck. Blackjack, poker, slots, and the like. It was probably incredibly unfair odds, especially in the hotel casino. They were all either too optimistic or too drunk to care. At least Namjoon had the foresight to force everyone to leave their cards behind and spend only a fixed amount of cash. Currently his intoxicated self was questioning why the fuck he did that.

“Yah! Nooo!”

“Where did Jungkook go?”

“Dunno, he said something about the bathroom. Maybe got distracted. He’ll come running back to Namjoon-hyung when he realizes he doesn’t know enough English.”

“He has his phone. Message him.”

“Uh… What’s my passcode…?”

“Your fingerprint, Taehyung…”

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t gamble.

In his defense, these odds were better than any of the games here.

He thought it was his imagination at first. He could dream up those shapely legs and those elegant hands. Those plush lips and that little eye-smile that formed when they spotted him across the casino floor. Then he realized his imagination was not that creative to dream up a red-and-white striped bra top with a pineapple print and viciously short black denim shorts with a loose white dress shirt hanging off one shoulder. Plus, the extra detail of those pointed toe, black velvet heels with a thin strap around the ankle, giving the casual outfit an unexpected killing point.

A smile danced in her eyes and on her lips.

She turned and slid through the crowd.

Jungkook abandoned his spot over Jimin’s shoulder where he had been mocking him about his luck at the slot machines. Maybe slightly sober him wouldn’t have. Maybe slightly sober him would have thought, nah, that can’t be her, and even if it was, she hasn’t hung out with us yet, she probably wants to be let alone, I shouldn’t bother her, but that smile, that damned smile that went from her lips to those little puffs under her eyes, and Jungkook didn’t care, pushing through the crowd, following the flutter of white and long legs, smelling the reek of cigarettes and cigar smoke. With a start, he realized he was a little lost, looking up and seeing an ornate, gaudy ceiling. Fake marble and glided gold, surrounded by opulent shops and too many tourists.

Cool fingers brushed against his cheek.

He spun around and then froze, suddenly pressed up close, staring face-to-face to that eye-smile.

“Hello.”

Jungkook gasped her name between their lips, softly like a secret.

She grinned.

“No. I’m what you call danger.”

And she leaned up and kissed him.

His eyes went wide. The sudden softness, the rush of intimate contact, his heart pounding, realizing he could count her eyelashes. Thump-thump-thump. His heartbeat fluttering to his throat as he noticed that one of her eyes was partially open, like she was mid-wink as she kissed him, cheekily peeking at his reaction, increasing the pressure and intensity when she was caught, not looking away, sparkling smile in that shrouded orb. Tilting her head, her fingers grazing his jaw, pulling him closer, his mind going fuzzy, acutely aware that they were in public, kissing, right the view of people neither of them knew. Strangers in a strange land, alcohol mixing with the rush of her passion and his.

His hand lifted and touched her arm, grasping at the dress shirt.

She broke the kiss, her tongue trailing down the center of his lower lip, flicking lightly in their parting.

Jungkook gasped, cutting off his own whine. She smirked, teasing him, drawing him closer, closer to her addictive charm, but he was willingly falling, his eyes blind to everything but the cheese in the trap.

She adjusted her head, pulling down the collar of his jean jacket, sniffing lightly next to his neck.

“The cologne smells good on you.”

Thump-thump-thump.

She was wearing some kind of perfume too. Sweet but smooth, like biting into a nectarine in the summertime. It lingered over her collarbones, and he found himself wanting to claim that space, but the hesitation kicked in.

Instead, Jungkook lifted his gaze to her eye-smile.

“You…”

His thoughts were stumbling, burning in her heat.

“You’re… too pretty. It’s hard to look away.”

The side of her lips lifted.

“That sounds like a problem.”

She didn’t come with you and the guys to hook up, you should back off, Yoongi-hyung might get upset, she’s dangerous, look at that smile, but I can’t help it, look at the way she fits herself into my arms, she’s pressing her thigh against my thigh, I’m drunk, right, or maybe I’m not, I don’t know anymore, I need more, more, just to make sure…

“I want to do dirty things to you,” she whispered to his lips, soft and smokey.

That devious gaze enticed him, asking him to come hither.

“Do you want to do dirty things with me?”

Her hand slid down his shoulder, fingers fanning over his back, stroking it sensually, rolling her body into his. Not that he needed more convincing.

“Yeah…”

“P-Please…”

Getting am empty elevator wasn’t impossible in Las Vegas. It might be, depending on the time of day, but also there were a plethora of elevators all over the hotels. There were often lulls, moments where it seemed no one needed an elevator.

This moment was such a moment, which meant the second the door began to close, Jungkook found himself shoved into the wall of the elevator where only the gods knew how many other people were shoved for the same reason.

His air suddenly cut off, mouth to mouth, body to body, moans trapped in his throat.

Her hand pressed against his chest.

He shut his eyes.

Swallowed his shudder as her tongue flicked against his lips, toying with his lip ring, her hand sliding down, down, fitting to the contours of his torso, her other hand cupping his cheek, running her fingernail against the curve of his ear. Chills up and down his spine and all over his body, a constant buzz, her teeth nipping lightly at his lip in between insistent kisses. Were those wispy gasps him, surely not, stiffening as fingertips toyed with the waistband of his jeans.

Jungkook almost opened his eyes, but he didn’t.

He breathed her name against her lips, a breathless question.

She pressed her lips to his and he felt her smile.

Her hand molded to the growing tent trying to get past the zipper. It was as uncomfortable as it was arousing. His head hit the wall of the elevator, yanking his head away to moan, clutching her hips and trying to push her down, but her legs shifted and she stopped him, stroking him through the thick fabric and reducing him to pleas, snapping his chin back down, staring at her under him.

She grinned, shaking her ass in his hands while applying even but firm pressure against his erection, her tongue playfully between her teeth, daring him to do something about it.

There wasn’t anything to do but beg.

“Please…”

Her other hand ran down his stomach, gripping his t-shirt, tugging it up, the hem rising, rising, but not fast enough, it was probably only milliseconds, but it was milliseconds too many, the elevator climbing through the floors, his shirt hiking up, her nails grazing and leaving ghosts of relentless desire on his abdomen.

The elevator pinged loudly.

The door slid open.

Her head turned.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat when he realized it wasn’t their floor.

A couple blinked at them from the entrance. A man and a woman, holding hands and wearing matching colorful souvenir t-shirts. Meanwhile, her body was covering his, her dress shirt down her bare shoulders, not moving her hands from between their bodies.

“It’s going up,” the man said in English, pointing at the wall where the indicator light was.

The woman was gawking, too stunned to speak.

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn.

The door began to close.

“Keep a secret, okay?” she said to the couple, right before the door closed.

Jungkook’s English was limited but he was better at understanding than speaking.

“A secret?” he choked when she lazily turned back to him, using Korean because he wasn’t ready to embarrass himself in front of someone who clearly knew more English than he did. He was confronted with a self-satisfied smirk and sparkling eyes. “W-What if they call security–”

“This is America. I’m sure they’ve seen porn. You’re not even naked.”

Her fingers gripped the button of his jeans, her other hand splaying over his bare abs and rendering him speechless.

“Unless…”

She started messing with the button.

“It’s not like anyone will recognize you when you’re in a completely different country, you know?”

He wasn’t thinking it. Now he was. He stared into her eyes, a silent do it. Impulsive bravery in the face of danger. Amusement and agreement looking back at him. She nudged the fabric and the metal apart.

Found the zipper pull of his jeans.

Stuck her tongue out, extending it far, far down, curling it in the air, the metal teeth below coming apart from her insistence, his cock straining against his underwear, begging for a taste of that nimble, wet, glistening muscle dancing in front of his lips.

The elevator pinged again.

This time it was actually their floor.

Either Jungkook wasn’t as drunk as he thought or the shock was sobering him up real fast.

He made it about two steps into the hotel room before the door suddenly snapped closed and his pants were yanked down to his knees. Thumbs hooked onto the sides of his underwear and pushed down, and he found himself raising his hands and letting it happen with a gasp, looking down to meet the image of lust.

Her getting to her knees and licking the inside of his thighs, covering him with saliva.

Like he was the fucking Mona Lisa and her tongue was the paintbrush, not that that made any sense because Jungkook knew very little about classical art and even less about how the Mona Lisa was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci, but the point was that art evoked emotion and Jungkook was feeling.

He was feeling a whole fucking lot right now.

“Oh, s-shit…!”

She looked up at him, pressing her hand into the saliva and sliding up, rubbing the slick liquid all over his balls, gentle but with intention.

Cradled her hand under his jutting cock and raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook had no idea what she was going to do.

“D… Do it,” he gasped.

He probably should have asked what, but he was two seconds away from grabbing her hand and jacking his own dick, so he figured it was better to just encourage her to do what she wanted to do and see if he liked it rather than force her to do something she might find off-putting.

She spat on his dick and started jacking him off.

“O-Oh!”

It was a lot to take in at once, the image of her spitting on his dick, the sudden slipperiness wrapped in her firm hold, steady but tight, radiating pleasure flowing through him, down his legs and up his torso, seeing the glistening dark red tip disappear and reappear in her fingers, dangerous smirk and eye-smile accompanying the lewd image.

“Don’t hide your lovely voice,” she purred. “No one is here to hear you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it was unlikely that anyone was in the hotel room considering it was silent except for the noise outside in the adjacent rooms, and yet there was that sense of nervousness, jitters in being in this kind of situation with someone new, trying to keep his cool that was rapidly being consumed by flames.

“U-Um…”

She leaned forward, sticking her tongue out, and continued jacking him off with the head of his cock rubbing against her tongue.

“A-Aah, fuuuck…”

It was moving so fast, he was so intoxicated, he couldn’t stop, grabbing his shirt and yanking it up so it didn’t get in the way, seeing her wink at him and feeling the pace intensify, no, no, he couldn’t take it anymore, moaning helplessly, his breathing stuttering, so good, felt so good, strong grip, tight but not crushing, fast but enough to feel everything, tongue rubbing against sensitive skin, tilting her head and dripping more saliva down his length, so messy, seeing her thighs spread more. Right there at the door of the hotel room, not even waiting to take their shoes off.

Jungkook thought it would take him longer to cum but, to his surprise, the power of lust did not disappoint.

“I-I’m gonna cum, where–”

She tilted her hand back and stuck her tongue out, beckoning him with the tip.

He couldn’t even finish the question.

He gasped at the orgasm seized him and sent a burst of pleasure through him, making him lightheaded at the rush, gasping her name, holy fuck, he was witnessing his cum shooting down her throat, thick streams of white onto her tongue and sliding into the darkness. She didn’t close her mouth, letting him watch it slide down into her throat. Slowly massaging his twitching length, pressing her tongue to the base of the head, rubbing so, so softly.

There was so much pleasure that he couldn’t breathe.

Her lips closed, a kiss to the shivering head of his cock, and he heard her swallow.

So fucking sexy that he shuddered.

One eye opened, peering up at him, lightly licking the tip. A gentle tease. He whimpered, twisting his own shirt in his hands. She drew back a little, something clouding the previous playfulness from before.

“Too much?”

The question seemed weighted.

Not quite about what just occurred, but more about herself as a person.

Jungkook shook she head, biting his lower lip, knowing he was pushing his luck.

But this was Las Vegas and he came to gamble.

“Not enough.”

There probably should be instructions for how to proceed, but either Jungkook threw away the manual or was too horny to read it.

He probably should have thought twice before falling onto the bed he shared with Jimin and Taehyung, but he didn’t, dragging her onto his lap and whimpering at her touch and her bites on his neck, his eyes rolling back at her tongue following the curve of his ear, flicking his earrings. Shrugging out of their jackets, her chuckle between them, there probably isn’t enough time to get fully naked, and he knew it was true but he asked anyway, I need you, and then he realized her purple pouch was on the table by the bed because his eyes followed her hand when she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and stuck it on the nightstand.

When had that…?

But he didn’t really care, she was unzipping it and pulled a condom out.

“W… What?”

She shrugged as her response, licking the palm of her free hand. Never mind, he didn’t care why she had a condom in her toiletries bag. Condoms had one purpose. It was being used on him and that was good enough for Jungkook. He moaned as her wet left hand gripped his half-hard cock and pumped him. She straightened, standing between his legs.

“Hey.”

He didn’t have the capacity to speak, so he made a noise of want and curiosity, indicating that was ready to take an order.

“Help me take off my shorts.”

Be cool, his brain told him, but his hands were practically ripping off her clothes, yanking the button open and unzipping quickly, pushing it all down, black panties and shorts, gasping as she continued to jack him off while he revealed those lush hips and deliciousness between her legs, trying to tell himself to calm down, but, nope, that pussy looked more delicious than the expensive buffet and the buffet was fucking delicious.

Her hips swayed and she kicked her clothes away.

She held out the condom.

Jungkook reached between her legs and brushed his fingertips in between those glossy lips.

She raised an eyebrow as he brought it to his tongue and licked, trying not to pass out at the sweet taste.

Fuck.

He smirked at her inquiring expression.

“Just a taste.”

He took the condom, ripping it open. There was amusement in that eye-smile, but also a fluster that she covered with veiled calm.

“Ah.”

There was probably an unspoken rule that said, slow the fuck down, but it seemed that she didn’t care and neither did he, rolling the condom down his stiff length as soon as her hand moved away and she sank down on him, replacing her hand with her pussy.

Oh.

Fucking.

“A-Ah…!”

She rolled her hips, adjusting the angle, and Jungkook saw stars or maybe reached spiritual ascension, he had no other way to describe the overwhelming pleasure of the tight, warm softness, slick and wet, her hand gripping his shoulder, sliding up and down on his cock, his hands falling back to anchor himself up, his hips following her rhythm, thrusting up to meet hers.

She lifted her head, a heavy exhale tumbling from her lips.

Half-smile, her cheeks flushing.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.”

He felt the back of his neck burn and hoped it didn’t creep to his cheeks. She was riding his dick and he was dying from a compliment.

“Y-You too.”

Before he could slap himself upside the head for that response, she grinned.

“I know.”

He felt her squeeze him when he was deep inside, her nails digging into his shoulder, his right arm sticking out of his white t-shirt, his hair falling onto his face from the force of the bouncing. Bravery or feeding on her confidence, maybe simply lust and pleasure, who the fuck knew, his reservations disappearing, one of his hands lifting, touching her bare hip, testing the waters, pulling her closer when she smiled at him, breathless sigh at his force.

Harder.

Shifting the position slightly, fuck, right there, he knew that was the spot because they both gasped, tossing words aside and speaking through their bodies, harder, faster, rougher. It was easy to follow her pace. Maybe it was the knowledge that everyone may come back soon, maybe it was all those subtle tastes of her strong flavor from before, maybe this was her trap or maybe it really was undeniable attraction, but whatever it was, it was becoming something, mixed moans, matching pants, slapping bodies, and her hand turning, sliding into his hair, her fingers tense but not grabbing his hair, clenching her jaw.

“It’s okay,” he panted. “You can tug my hair a little.”

She bit her lip, a rare moment of lost composure.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”

Her fingers twisted into his hair tightly but didn’t pull, tipping her head back and moaning to the ceiling, clenching down him, shivering walls and sloppy squelch, still forcing her hips forward despite it but his own fingers dug into her hip and forced her to stop, the feeling too much and pushing him to the edge. Her name tumbled from his lips, his hips thrusting forward powerfully as he came, so good, rushing pulses and spilling into the condom, feeling her squeeze and tremble around him.

So good.

His.

At least this moment was, and he was going to treasure it.

Her hand worked into his hair, pinpricks of her nails crawling up, panting hard, opening her eyes slowly as she came down. There was something endearing about it. No walls here, no hiding behind confidence and knowledge of her own power.

Just bliss in orgasm.

“You can be rougher with me.”

She panted, cocking a brow at his declaration.

“You seem like you’re holding yourself back a little.” He grinned. “Or am I wrong?”

She ticked her head, not yet saying anything. Her gaze shifted, playfulness returning, running her fingers through his hair and making his scalp tingle.

He leaned forward and touched his nose to hers.

“I can take it.”

He saw those little puffs under her eyes curve upward in amusement and felt her fingers curling inward, a firm grip, his breath catching his throat, almost, he could almost taste her kiss on his lips again.

They heard the sudden whirring of the door being unlocked.

There were four rooms in the suite – the room Namjoon and Hoseok shared with separate beds, the room Yoongi and Seokjin shared with one bed, and the room Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook shared with the bed and pull-out couch that they ignored, cramming onto the California-king bed with too many limbs sticking out.

And the smallest room, hers, since she was the one girl.

Jungkook woke up far too early the next morning with Taehyung’s arm over his chest, staring down at the corner of the bed that he had fucked Yoongi’s female friend on the night before.

At least it was his side of the bed.

He got up and went for a long work-out session in the hotel gym to avoid any… foreseen circumstances. And to avoid Jimin bringing up anything from last night in the morning.

“You left Taehyung on read.”

“What?”

Jimin had scrunched up his face as he trotted into the bedroom, sighing. “Your phone. You left Taehyung on read, so we knew you weren’t dead, but at least text back and let us know where you are! What if you get kidnapped? We’re in a foreign country.”

Jungkook had blinked at him, sitting on the bed with his shirt half on and his pants hastily yanked on, trying to occupy Jimin so he didn’t start looking around the room. That turned out to be easy, considering Jimin was annoyed at him for not responding to texts. Jungkook had a good reason.

He was busy being balls deep.

He wasn’t going to say that because inevitably Jimin’s next question would be who and Jungkook wasn’t ready for his pint-sized hyung to start teasing and dropping hints to the silent-but-scary hyung.

“Why would I get kidnapped? I would kick their ass.”

Jimin made a pained face at him. “Yeah. Exactly. How are we supposed to bail you out of jail? What do you think we are? Fluent in English and rich?”

Jungkook coughed. “Uh… I got hot. I came up to change. I was gonna go back down.”

Jimin rubbed his head and ran his hand through his black hair, flopping onto the bed. “Never mind,” he sighed. “I’ll text them and let them know you’re okay. Man. You scared me for a second…”

“… Sorry.”

“What’s this?”

Jungkook snatched the scrap of blue foil wrapper from Jimin’s wandering hand. “Nothing. Just, uh, hangover tablet. She gave me an extra.”

“Oh, man, I’m gonna need one, I hope she has another…”

“I’ll ask if I see her.”

You did, Jungkook. You saw a lot.

Jungkook told his inner voice to shut the fuck up.

He wondered. If the others had thought about looking after him, then did any of them worry if she was going to be okay? She was one girl wandering alone in a big city in a foreign country after all. Her English seemed pretty good though.

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

“She’s at Starbucks.”

“What?”

Yoongi yawned and turned his phone around at the table of the hotel buffet, stuffing a slice of prime rib into his mouth. “Green dot.” A steady green dot on a white map with blue roads was chilling in a teardrop-shaped pin labelled STARBUCKS.

“You GPS’ed her?! What is she, an endangered animal?” Seokjin gasped, the half-eaten pretzel bread falling out of his mouth. He quickly snatched it from his plate and shoved it back in.

Yoongi grunted and swallowed, putting his phone back down. “She asked me to, obviously. She texts me where she’s going each day and I check sometimes if she’s there. Takes me two seconds. She’s fine.”

Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. “Where’s she going today?”

“Sex clubs and drug dens.”

Namjoon dropped his fork with a loud clatter.

Yoongi snorted. “She’s going to the Luxor to look around. You think she’d actually be in a drug den? You can’t Google that, sheesh.”

Namjoon had to ask for new silverware because he had flipped his knife onto the floor the second the waitress managed to get to their table.

The fair-skinned man shook his head, his long black hair neatly tucked under a gray beanie. “I told you, she intended to wander around alone. Of course, she took precautions. She’s not a kid.”

Taehyung poked Jungkook on the side of his head. “Yeah, unlike this guy.”

“What? I’m not a kid. I’m already over twenty-five!”

“Okay, next time we go somewhere, you can do all the talking in English.”

“… A-Ah…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I know, I just can’t focus on… remember… when put on the spot…”

“That’s kind of…” Seokjin paused to mock Jungkook. “… The most important part.”

“Hyung, you know zero English.”

“Yah, I know come on and you know, you know?!”

The memories started blurring together, as they did when one was slowly blacking out.

He found they came rushing back every time they kissed, so he always searched for the next time they could kiss again.

Five points of gentle contact on his back and he would turn, a rare moment in the bathroom of both of them getting ready, sudden silence when Jimin stepped out to change his shirt, unsatisfied with his outfit.

Just a quick taste, throwing a shot back as casually as they came. Her lips and tongue working him, soft and insistent, running her fingers up his back, tracing patterns that made his skin radiate with need, wanting her to push the layers of fabric away, but it was gone as quickly as it came, Jimin rushing back in and she was reaching past him, snatching Yoongi’s cologne on the counter and spraying down her neck and chest.

“Isn’t that hyung’s?” Jimin teased, nudging her from behind.

She smiled, playful and unbothered. “If I smell of men’s cologne, less men walk up to me because they will assume I’m already with a guy. Or slept with one the night before.”

“Ah, wait, that’s kind of smart though,” Jimin nodded, sounding surprised. “Don’t you think so, Jungkook?”

She tilted her head at Jungkook, looking innocent.

“Uh… yeah?”

She put down the bottle, sliding it back onto the counter. Not where it was before. His eyes flickered to the movement, sensing a deliberateness to her action. Her hand stopped, backed off.

She had placed it next to his.

Either she knew it was his or it was a very lucky guess.

Jungkook did not think it was a lucky guess.

He turned to make eye contact but she was already leaving the bathroom, waving a hand while tucking her purple pouch under her arm, looking far too pretty in a long-sleeved black shirtdress and studded leather choker, wearing the signature scent of another man.

She could have picked his and didn’t.

The thought lingered in his mind.

In the night, he felt someone poke his side.

He opened his eyes to see hers peering at him from the side of the bed, her fists on the sheets like a curious cat. He couldn’t see the lower half of her face. Heart racing, pushing Taehyung’s leg off him, turning in his body just in case. Taehyung and Jimin breathed softly, lost in dreamland as Jungkook encountered his.

That little eye-smile.

She backed up, placing a finger to her lips, dressed in her black-and-white gingham pajamas. Beginning the game. The silent journey, sneaking past their sleeping companions, into her room, close the door, whispers in the dark, shh, hands under clothes and lips on skin.

Shot after shot.

Common sense nagged at him, but Jungkook pushed it away, losing himself in the feeling of her tongue on his chest, her hands sliding up his sides as she crawled up his body, leaving his skin on fire with her kiss.

“I can turn the light on if you want.”

The curtains of the high-rise room were open, letting in the light of Sin City.

“I can see,” he breathed onto her skin. “This is nice.”

Her top coming off, shorts following. She grinned. He loved the way it flowed to her eyes. His kiss down her neck, smooth skin under his lips, and he could still smell the lingering fragrance, citrus and the ocean with heavenly depth that was uniquely her. He ran his tongue down like she did with him, wrapping his lips around her nipple, feeling her fingers curling in his hair, pushing him around with silent force.

I can take it.

Rolling her chest into his face, soft sigh above him as he sucked, more, so he sucked harder, rubbing his tongue against the hard nub between his lips, reaching up with this other hand to tease the other, the taste filling his mouth, fuck, something different and addictive, too many parts of her that were too enjoyable. Her hands in his hair and her moan of his name as he switched sides, feeling her thighs squeeze his torso, too good, her nails dragging down his back, pinpricks of pain to bring pleasure, and he could feel it, so intense, from her to him, flames melting together and burning, and then all of a sudden her hands yanking his hair hard. Pain shot into his scalp, forcing him to let go, and he gasped, confused, colliding with her insistent kiss, her grabbing his hand, pushing it down, plunging two of his fingers into dripping wetness and tight heat.

Jungkook moaned into her mouth, feeling her fuck herself with his hand.

Nothing could stop this now.

He really didn’t care of anyone heard him now but she didn’t let him, rocking her hips into his hand, trapping him with her kiss even when she came, her orgasm sliding down his palm, shuddering muscles choking his fingers in a punishing pulse and he wanted it on his cock, so much so that when she finally let him go, he grasped his own length with his wet hand and smeared it all over him, a wanton groan escaping him.

Her hand immediately slapped over his mouth, her brows furrowing.

“Shh.”

He shook his head, gasping against her fingers, tighter, pushing the limit.

She gave him a helpless smile and felt around behind her, finally finding the condom and bringing it to him.

“Man, you’re gonna wake someone up…”

He bit down on his lower lip, fuck, it just felt so good, so good burying himself into that tightness, her muscles relaxing for a second to let him enter and then wrapping around him, just like that, swearing under his breath as she chided him, slow, angling herself to accommodate his length, oh God, right there, that depth and that sweet spot, slow and forceful, her legs wrapping around his waist, rising her lower body to his.

He tipped his head back, trying to contain his moan and failing. Her hand flew up, covering his mouth again, careful with the lip ring.

“Lift your arm for a second,” she gasped, and he did, and one leg was on his shoulder now, yes, yes, panting against her fingers, even better now, fucking him hard from below as he fucked her from above, attempting to minimize the sound, clutching his face as hers remained focused, biting her lip to hide her noises, the loudest being their bodies slapping against each other.

Nothing they could do about that.

He saw her neck tense and her eyes flickered up. He felt it too, the rush and the need, staring into her eyes, the thrill all over, her thumb stroking his cheek fondly while not letting go. The light of the city down below lit their bodies, and perhaps there was something in the air, too many drinks and not enough self-control.

Except he was sober.

She was the alcohol.

Jungkook felt his cheeks and neck flush. He hoped she couldn’t see in the darkness.

He whined softly under her palm and she nodded, squeezing him from below. Closer, closer, harder, faster, taking the chance, her gaze shooting up and he was there, her thumb suddenly covering his nose as he half-screamed into her mouth, hitting a strange kind of airless high that was so intense he felt his brain go hazy, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips jerked, wave after wave of pleasure colliding into one another, orgasm punching into him as he felt hers all around, pulsating constriction and slippery juices stuck to the insides of his thighs, hearing her head flinch to the side and bury her face into the pillow in mute ecstasy.

Holy.

Fuck.

She suddenly removed her hand from his face and the oxygen came rushing back, knocking the wind out of him and making him collapse on top of her. A faint sound of mild discomfort under him, but she did not tell him to get off.

He could feel her racing heartbeat against his.

Did she feel it too, the high of the buzz that was them?

Jungkook pressed his hand onto his mouth and his thumb over his nose, feeling the orgasm building up within his core.

It was loud in the living room area, singing, screaming, laughing, and he was slowly cutting off his own air, watching those lips around his cock and feeling that tongue race up and down the underside of his length, furiously rubbing the bottom of the head where it was the most sensitive, then descending into that throat that squeezed him, wet and hot and wonderful. So close to getting caught. So close, but not close enough, and that was the sweet spot, watching his cock disappear into that mouth and seeing that eye-smile teasing him as he watched, covering his mouth so he didn’t give them away.

He couldn’t breathe.

The climb was heaven.

The orgasm slammed into him and he clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut, fuck, fuck, fuck, feeling his length jerk and shoot down her throat. The lack of oxygen bombarded him with thoughtless, unbridled bliss, this, fuck, why does this feel so good, his eyes rolling back, tipping his head back and hitting the wall, thrusting into her throat and hearing her choke slightly, swallowing quickly and shooting a bolt of near-pain up into his head that punctuated the high, leaving him teetering on the tightrope in a dangerous suspension.

She let him go and dragged his pants up, rubbing her throat.

“G… Go back…”

“S–”

She shot up and covered his mouth, shaking her head. Breathing hard, staring into his eyes.

He felt it, the something between them.

Dancing twin flames.

Slowly, she removed her hand, closing the distance between them.

He fell into it, the softness and the pressure and the insistence.

Euphoria.

“You know you can suck his dick in Korea, right?”

They both jumped.

The head of long black-hair tilted, dark brown orbs watching them like a cat who may or may not be silently judging. A smirk, open-mouthed and amused, looking from Jungkook to her.

“While I’m sure it’s incredibly fun for you,” Yoongi said quietly in his low voice. “Maybe control yourself at least in this room.”

Jungkook sputtered but she covered his mouth again. He realized she was smiling.

“I’ll think about it.”

She backed up and picked up her jacket, the short skirt flashing more ass than necessary.

Jungkook was about to move but Yoongi pushed him back against the wall, holding up two fingers and shaking his head, indicating him to wait two minutes before reappearing. Then his hyung followed after the flame.

“Uh huh,” Yoongi muttered as he fell in step behind her. “You act like I didn’t know what you were doing…”

“I tell you what I’m doing every day.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She shrugged on the jacket, ticking her chin at Yoongi. “Keep a secret, okay?”

“Right, I can see how worried you are about it…”

They rounded the corner and left Jungkook alone, breathing hard in the semi-darkness, pants still unfastened, trying to push down his embarrassment.

“Where is – oh, hyung! Uh… what were you two doing?”

In unison.

“Nothing.”

“Kinda looks like something.”

“Well even if it was something, are either of us going to tell you? No.”

“Aww… but hyung, look, I found a song you produced on the list!”

“There’s no – whoa…”

Jungkook breathed out slowly as everyone was distracted. Rebuttoned his pants. Calmed himself back to normal. Smoothed out his shirt. What if…? He shut his eyes, telling his brain not to go there. Remembered her words. I’ll think about it. Yeah. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Yeah, because it was just for fun. A game. Meant nothing. Vacation from real life, and afterward just a distant memory of drunk fun times.

...

Fuck.

“Jungkook?”

He jumped. She stood in front of him, holding her phone.

“I… I left it on the ground,” she mumbled absentmindedly, awkwardly waving it about. “Are… Are you okay?”

“Uh…”

He swallowed, feeling a strange tightness in his chest.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

She tilted her head at him. Took a step back but then stopped. Shook her head.

“You’re not okay.”

Her voice was soft, delicate, a sharp contrast to everyone yelling on the other side of the wall.

“Y-You should go back,” he choked out, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “They’ll think–”

She chuckled dryly, cutting him off. “Yoongi will cover if anybody asks. And besides, I don’t care.” She searched his face, brows furrowing. “You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Nothing.

He stared at her, in her fluffy black jacket and two-piece set decorated with flames.

Tell her it’s nothing.

She waited, patiently, one in the darkness with him.

Or ask if she feels something for you.

“You…”

She took a step towards him, listening.

“You’ll suck my dick in Korea, right?” he blurted.

She blinked at him.

Wait.

That didn’t come out right.

The side of her lips lifted upward in exasperated mirth. “Uh… sure. I planned on it. I was actually going to suck you dick a couple more times in Vegas too, if the opportunity arose.”

A weight of relief. “Oh. That’s…”

I planned on it.

Jungkook felt his whole body burst into flames. Not literally. But it felt like that.

“You… planned?”

She nodded. “Yes. Because I like you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t try to kiss you. Or touch your dick. Or go to the trouble of buying condoms in a foreign country so I could ask you to put your dick in me.”

He gawked at her.

Moments passed.

There was a series of discombobulated yelps and thumps, someone screaming, "Namjoon, no!", followed by profuse apologizing and Hoseok's crazed laughing and recognizable clapping. Jungkook heard none of it.

His ears only registered the words, I like you, ringing in his ears over and over.

"Oi."

She raised her free hand and pointed at his face, startling him.

"What's with your eyes?"

He blinked, raising his hands and touching his cheeks. "W-What?"

"Your big peepers."

She snickered as if she had told a great joke, grinning wide, the little puffs under her eyes giving them a gentle curve, the delight reaching them too. There was just something about it.

“You look so funny when you’re surprised. It’s cute. I like it.”

He blinked rapidly, finding his mouth partially open and closing it. Swallowed, sputtering. “I… I like your eye-smile.”

She stopped laughing and gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Your cute eye-smile.”

She coughed. “I don’t have an eye-smile.”

He tilted his head. Now he was the puzzled one. “But… you do.”

She backed up, waving a hand. “Nah.” Turned slightly, covering part of her face. He caught the redness of her ears. “No. No, I don’t. Shut up. I’m going. I’ll see you later. I already booked for Tournament of Kings and I’m not missing it.” She pointed at him accusingly and Jungkook found himself smiling, grinning as she backed up carefully, stumbling into the wall and shaking herself vigorously, waving her hand around. “Don’t say anything. I’m leaving. Don’t look at me. Bye.”

And she ducked out, practically leaving a dust cloud in her haste.

Well.

It didn’t seem like what happened in Vegas was going to stay in Vegas, at least in this case.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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