THE ECHO OF water pitter-pattering against the tiles of Neva's en-suite woke Jungkook. It reverberated through the wall, intruding on the sleep he had so desperately needed. His head was pounding, mouth dry, cock hard. Yep. He was hungover, alright.

He couldn't remember anything beyond the point of arriving at the party - but he knew that Neva hadn't been going to it, so he dreaded to think about how he could have ended up in her bed... again.  It was becoming a bit of a bad habit. 

Like smoking, or gambling, or any addiction, really, he just couldn't seem to get enough. If he wasn't surrounded by the very essence of her, then he craved it. He knew that he should stop, that this wasn't good for either of them, but he was still as selfish as he had been as a teenager. Stopping himself required far more energy and effort than it did to let himself succumb to his temptations.

There was a half-drunk bottle of rose and raspberry soda next to Neva's bed. Jungkook reached his fingers up, letting the tips of his finger graze the label. Pretty and pink, it matched the rest of her drastically out-of-character bedroom. 

Perhaps Neva's room was just that; a memorial to someone who no longer was. It was a love letter to the childhood that she had lost when her father had decided that he didn't fancy playing happy families anymore.

Dragging his hand to rest on his chest, Jungkook found his jaw clenching as an air of annoyance waved over his features. 

He remembered stealing sips of her rose and raspberry soda as teenagers. Without fail, he would gag every single time, and complain, questioning why she liked the taste of fucking flowers so much. 

"It reminds me of Turkish delight," she would pout a little, to which he would then argue was equally disgusting. But then her eyes would light up as she began explaining the trip that her family had taken to Turkey when she was 14, about six months prior to her father's departure. She'd gone on an excursion to a traditional sweet store, and had made her own little rose flavoured delights. 

Jungkook had heard the story a dozen times over, but not once did he ever remind her of this or move the topic along. There was a comfort in her glossy gaze that he could never bring himself to steal from her, for that memory was the final vestige of unadulterated happiness in her lifetime. Though it was small and simple, and not some grand moment that historians would write about, it was something that belonged to her. 

When she drank the soda that tasted like flowers, the persistence of her memories bloomed. The flora would provide her with enough oxygen to breathe, even if she did have allergies that would cause her to cry regardless.

He would never understand how her dad could have ever left her. Bastard.

But then again, so had he. Pot, kettle, black.

In her bed again, he was surrounded by her things. He could almost taste the memory of roses on his tongue and it felt like he was being poisoned; his tongue swelling to the point at which he couldn't breathe anymore. If he didn't get out of there, he'd surely suffocate.

"Hey," a voice whispered from the doorway that led to Neva's en-suite.

Like an EpiPen straight to the heart, Jungkook could breathe again.

And it was funny, he thought, because all Jungkook wanted was for her to cut off his airways with her body.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of her; hair damp and loose, beads of water scattered across her shoulders and a fluffy grey towel wrapped around her body.

He'd woken up hard, like he always did hungover, but there was a throbbing now, an urgency to do something about it.

She tilted her head, noticing his expression; the narrowed eyes and borderline glare he was casting from them.

"It's rude to stare," she asserted, an air of humour in her otherwise stoic tone.

"No it's not," he spoke as if he didn't care who could possibly hear him, ignorant to her mother being just down the hallway. "The way I'm looking at you right now? It's a compliment."

Neva tried not to smile, but it was tugging at her lips as if a puppeteer had full control over her expression. What are you doing to me?

"C'mere," he rose a little, reclining back on his elbows. Her duvet came to midway up his chest; a delicate wave of pale pink cotton protecting his modesty, not that he really cared much for modesty. Not when he was hungover, and not when Neva looked like that. 

"Uh-uh," she shook her head playfully. It wasn't for any particular reason. She completely and unapologetically wanted to drop her towel and crawl back into her bed with him, but she also didn't want to give him what he wanted. 

"Don't make me come over there and drag you into bed myself," he toyed, a brow raised while a seductive grin settled on his lips. 

"Why not? You gotta work for it," Neva played back, tightening her towel and resecuring it around the top of her chest.

"Baby, I'm a slacker," Jungkook fell back down into the pillows. "You know working hard isn't my forte."

"You are so full of shit," she hummed, finally walking over to the bed, though keeping her towel in place. Taking her spot next to Jungkook, she greeted him with a soft kiss. His arm had curled outwardly to rest on her pillow, creating the perfect cushion for her neck. "You're no slacker."

"How'd you work that one out?" He asked, somewhat curiously. His nose had nestled into her hair, not caring that it hadn't fully dried, solely for the fact that he adored her shampoo. And her. And being in bed with her.

He liked it too much. It was starting to scare him.

"Slackers don't overhaul their grades in a year and get into one of the best schools in the country," she stated plainly, trailing circles on his torso with her nails. "Slackers don't get all their essays done before going out and getting shit faced... and you know what else slackers don't do?"

Mirroring one another, Neva tilted her head upwards as Jungkook adjusted his to look down at her. 

"Tell me."

"They don't get me into bed with them," she shrugged. There was sincerity in her tone though there was also a certain amount of ambiguity. 

"In what way?" He felt the need to clarify. "Is it that men have to work hard to get you in bed? Or that you're only attracted to men who work hard?"

She smiled, nudging her nose against his. "Can it not be both?"

There was a tightening in Jungkook's chest, as he allowed himself the luxury of acknowledging that perhaps Neva didn't see him as who he had once been anymore. 

Maybe she didn't look at him and see guilty brown eyes capable of harbouring unspeakable lies. Maybe she couldn't remember what he'd put her through. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to forgive himself too. 

Pressing his lips together tightly, he stippled her nose with kisses. From the tip to the bridge he went, without a goal in mind. 

All he wanted to do was kiss her.

He didn't even really want to fuck her anymore.

Well, no. That was a lie. He still did really want to fuck her. Once glance to midway down the bed would have proven it.

He'd deliberately kept her eyes levelled upwards towards him, so that she wouldn't see the fucking tent that his cock had formed with her duvet - but simply 'fucking' Neva felt too brash. 

It was too crude, too impersonal for what he wanted  - but her hand was on his chest and he could feel it sinking down and within a second or two she'd be greeted by the undeniable fact that she drove him crazy. 

"Eva," he spoke softly, velvet coffee eyes trained on hers. "Uh- oh, shit. Fuck."

He had been about to protest when her fingers had wrapped around the base of his shaft.

"That okay?" She checked, though she knew the answer. His lips were hanging slack, neck slightly tenser than it had been a second previously. Her wrist jerked slowly, his skin silky against her palm. 

Nodding, Jungkook let out a groan. Her pace was tepid, slow, almost a massage. It was a change to normal, but not an unwelcome one. He typically liked things a little rough, and Neva knew just how to pace herself for him- if she wanted to, she could make him climax in 0.2 seconds flat.

Obviously, though, she didn't want to. She wanted to roll her palm over his warm cock, hard and solid, too thick to fully wrap her fingers around it and just relish in hearing him moan. There was something liberating about savouring the moment and having him completely weak to such a minimal touch.

His hips were gently thrusting into her palm, unable to stop himself. He wanted this; he wanted her. 

"Jesus, Eva."

He felt his cheeks blush as she giggled, pleased with the knowledge that he was losing his mind. God he hated it; the weakness, the vulnerability, the absolute ability she had to completely ruin him forever.

"I thought about you last night," she teased, biting down on her lip as she paused. 

Oh fuck. 

"While you were at the party," she finished.

He couldn't breathe.

"What about? Tell me."

He was going to die, he was sure of it.

"I was thinking..." she paused, as if debating whether or not she wanted to disclose the filthy thoughts she had had. "About the fact that you'd be drinking... and that you'd taste exactly the same as you did when you took me up against my dorm room door," she all but whispered. Her grip stiffened around his cock as her thighs clenched together.

"Eva-"

"I thought about how fucking hard you were, and how I could still feel you for days. That whole train journey home, I could feel you."

He moaned, undignified and unrefined, not interrupting. 

She smirked, obsessed with his noises. "I thought about you the first night I got home."

"I was thinking about you, too," he disclosed, sending volts of electricity through her entire body. 

Oh, how she loved a challenge. Still pumping his cock, Neva's tongue trailed down his throat.

"I think about you most nights," she flirted, her lips catching against his skin tenderly.

"Most?"

Pressing her teeth down into the firm skin of his neck, Neva moaned against him. His hand, which had been cradling the crown of her head, gripped tightly in her hair, pulling on it gently.

She smirked, gasping. "Fine. Every single night. You've got no idea what thinking about you made me do."

"Shit," he hissed, succumbing to his own desires. Slipping his hand beneath her towel, he pushed it away from her body. His fingers dug into her hips, rolling her body so close to his that she could feel the precum leaking from his cock and onto her abdomen. "Use your big girl words, Eva. Tell me what you did."

Her spare hand adjusted her towel, letting it slip down, revealing her entire body. Jungkook thought he might just come undone instantly. Who gave her the right to look like that? Christ.

Trailing her hand up and down her own torso, Neva cupped one of her breasts, kneading at it, squeezing gently. "I started with my tits first," she began to demonstrate, rolling her nipple between her fingers, before languidly moving to the other one. "But I needed more."

"More?" He could barely breathe a response, cock twitching in her palm.

"More," she reached for his hand, placing it on her chest, encouraging him to keep up with her movements. He'd studied her far more than he'd ever studied for an exam, and it was probable that she was the hardest thing that he'd ever worked for.

He didn't know where to look; her hazy fuck-me eyes and plump lips, her supple chest which he'd claimed at his own, her hand that was stroking his cock... or her other hand.

"Thinking about you had me aching," she purred, letting it fall to her clit, moving slowly in circles.

"Fuck."

She began to explore herself all for him to see, moving her hand at the same languid tempo that she was jerking his cock with.

It hadn't taken her long to get wet at all, but it never did with him. She rubbed herself for his viewing pleasure, sinking a single finger into her hot core.

"Fucking hell," he cursed, watching her body move like sin.

Pulling her hand back up, Jungkook didn't even hesitate to take it in his mouth, just for a little taste of her. He'd been holding back since the last time they'd fucked, but she was practically offering herself up on a silver platter.

So God damn greedy for her, he didn't know what he wanted more; her pussy or her mouth. He supposed really that they were all one and the same - they were all her.

Jungkook had always been taught better than to play with his food, though. He needed her now.

"Eva," he husked. Had his voice been any lower, it would have been a growl. "Have you got..."

"A condom?" she furrowed her brows, understanding the pause. Her voice was laced with confusion - she was on the coil and it wasn't something he never normally considered. Unless he'd strayed? He could sense her alarm, and shook his head fondly. God, no. No, he wouldn't have.

"It's 'cause I won't last," he exhaled a slight laugh, pulling her close to him, peppering her in kisses. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but he didn't care. It was a compliment, and he knew she'd take it as such. "If I fuck you you raw - which trust me, baby, I want to - I'm just gonna finish too quickly."

"I don't care," she pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck, straddling his strong thighs. God, if she just adjusted her lap a little further onto his, then that would be it. They'd be fucking.

"Shit," he groaned. "Fine, fuck it."

He pulled her closer, one hand grabbing tightly onto her arse, the other lining his cock up to her entrance. Pushing himself into her, Jungkook let Neva take charge, lowering herself at a pace that was comfortable for her.

No complaints. Absolutely perfect. Fuck.

Jungkook let out a pleased laugh. There was a disconnect between his mind and his body as he watched her work his cock like a pole. 

His body was simple: An overwhelming fire burned in his groin, an undeniable primal pleasure that he just couldn't get enough of. It was unadulterated lust, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck her.

His mind was less so simple. He could feel every stroke of his cock inside of her, but when he looked at her, his heart grew heavy to the point where he thought he could have fucking cried.

The pink of her cheeks, the wetness of her lips, her fucked-out eyes that lit up with every thrust; everything that she was consumed him. It was utterly enthralling and completely devastating all at once. 

Leaning closer towards her, one of his hands gripped her neck, the other her ass. She was on top, but he had control, thrusting his lap upwards in desperate hunt for relief.

"You're gonna ruin me," he admitted, the sound of their moans soundtracking the pump of his hips.

Laughing, she shook her head in the crook of his neck.

"Baby, no," she mewled. "You know that isn't true."

She leant back, letting herself bounce on his lap, before rocking gently. She could feel him throb inside of her, desperate for release.

Jungkooks eyes travelled south to where he'd embedded himself in her, watching the way her swollen pussy rolled down on him in absolute awe. She'd sunk to the base of his cock, and the feeling of him filling her was unlike anything else she'd ever known.

"No?" He leant forward, lips meeting her neck. His tongue licked against her, eliciting soft purrs.

"Why bother ruining -ah, fuck, Jungkook- something, when I could just restore it to its former glory? Shit," she could barely string a sentence together anymore as his hips pulsed upwards.

"Oh, Eva," Jungkook's voice was laced with sin as he grinned. Clasping his arm around her back, he flipped them over. An excited squeak escaped her lips, and Jungkook wanted to play the sound on repeat.

Not once did he withdraw from her during the change in position, keeping himself snug. Hooking a leg over his elbow, he kept her in place with an iron grip that would no doubt bruise in a few hours.

"It's a nice thought, but if the foundations are bad, the house will just collapse anyway."

"Good job you aren't a house then, isn't it?"

"Shut up," he mewled unto her lips as his pace increased. He was chasing his high and he wasn't going to stop until he got there.

Every thrust was torturous; a declaration of something more. He was obsessed with it, with her, and he needed to let her know somehow. His body seemed like a good place to start. 

"Shit, Eva," he cursed, feeling himself tense involuntarily. Lifting his body so that he was kneeling up between her legs, he pushed her thighs outwards, spreading her for him. His hips jerked slowly into her, and Neva pulled a pillow over her face that she had something to bite into now that his shoulder was gone. 

"Nope," he grinned fondly, pulling it away. He could feel her clenching around him, and he wanted to watch her face as her body lost control. She was drawing close, he could feel it.

Leaning down gently, he brought his fingers to her mouth. It wasn't gonna shut her up, and he knew this. He just didn't care, so lost in her body that he'd forgotten a reality existed outside of the four walls they were in. 

"Pretty little mouth," he purred, rocking his hips, letting his cock stroke rhythmically against her weakest spot. She sucked on his fingers like a champ, tempestuous eyes on him. "Show me how filthy it can be. Spit on them."

She did as she was told, revelling in the way he cursed. Bringing his torso back up, he looked down to watch his cock pump into her and spat slowly, letting it drip onto her clit. His fingers, covered in her spit, came to meet it, rubbing sensually against her clit.

Neva's back arched, as if Jungkook had just administered electric volts to her body. The combination of him filling her to the hilt and the way he knew how to work her clit was too much.

"Wait, wait," she panted, trying to keep her voice hushed, grabbing onto his thighs to keep him positioned deep inside of her. "Still, keep still."

"Like this?" He purred back, pushing the backs of her thighs upwards slightly to give himself an even better angle. He made sure he could fill her no-more, completely bottomed-out, but staying still as per her request. The tightening of her walls was so much more intense like this, and Jungkook thought he might just have a heart attack from the sensation.

Caressing against her pussy with his fingers, he found a rhythm that had Neva mewling. Her pussy was hot around him, clenching tightly until she couldn't take it anymore. 

"Shit," he cursed, as she began to spasm from the overwhelming sensation.

His hips began to jerk again, needing to ride out her high with her, and he found himself spilling into her within seconds. She came undone around him, his body collapsing onto hers, his head finding its home in the crook of her neck. She cradled her arms around him as her legs mirrored them, keeping Jungkook secure in place. 

They stayed that way for what felt like an eternity - but they both know it could have been no more than a minute or so. Their bodies were clammy, Neva's shower made redundant from the sweat they'd both worked up. 

Finally rolling off of her, Jungkook couldn't help but laugh, pulling her into his chest. "Nice work, Eva."

She snuggled into his chest, putting her hand out slightly for him to high-five.  Slapping his hand down on it, he didn't let go, instead clasping her fingers in his. 

"Wasn't bad," she grinned, and Jungkook could feel her lips raised against his bare chest.  "6/10."

"Liar."

"Just means you'll have to work harder next time," she teased.

"There's gonna be a next time?" He grinned harder than he'd ever known possible. She wanted him.

"Well, yeah," she shrugged, suppressing a giggle. "How else are you gonna improve?"

"Fuck you, Eva, you know I'm a 10."

"You minus a point for your ego," she asserted playfully. "So no. You're a 9."

They settled into a stupid debate that they both knew was redundant. He would make outlandish claims, and she would giggle and protest, before he'd tickle her until she'd admit defeat. In the cocoon of her duvet, it was easy to forget the outside world.

Eventually, it came knocking. Jungkook's phone vibrated: a text message from his mother asking when she could expect him home.

Slinking downstairs to retrieve Jungkook's shoes, which he'd kicked off like an idiot by the door in a drunken haze, Neva found herself acting like a spy on a mission.

It would have been slightly comical, had it not been for the realisation that dawned on her. His converse had been moved from Neva's pile of shoes, that her mother refused to sort out in an attempt to make her do it, and onto the shoe rack. 

Oh, shit.

"Neva, honey?"

Oh, shit, shit, shit.

"Uh-huh," Neva hummed, rounding the corner to find her mother reading the newspaper in the kitchen. It was at the opposite end of the house to Neva's room, and she knew that her mother wouldn't have heard anything unless she'd have been walking past her room - which she had no reason to. 

Not looking up, her mother flicked the page of the local gazette, as Neva tried her best to not bunch up her brows or nibble nervously on her lips.

"So are you getting his things down from the attic, or am I?" Her mother finally glanced upwards, setting the paper down on the table.

Neva's ears burned, her blood so hot that it had raised to the top of her body in a bid to evaporate. She stalled, words caught in the back of her throat.

"I figured I'd make him do the heavy lifting," Neva winced, not really wanting to admit to her mother that Jungkook was back on the scene. 

Her mother probably wouldn't have even noticed the black hi-top Chucks, had it not been for the simple fact that he had bought Neva a matching pair once - and she knew for a fact that they were up in that suitcase with the rest of his things. 

It had been a sweet gesture from him, fed-up of her always doodling on his white rubber trim. The second that she'd laced them on her small feet for the first time, Jungkook had them up in his lap and was doodling inconsequential shit onto them. Childish and trivial, it was perfectly 'them'.

Neva's mother had always quite liked Jungkook. He'd been an asshole, she knew that much, but Neva had never disclosed just how badly he had fucked up. She trusted her daughter to be making the right decisions for herself - and if not, she was old enough to make her own mistakes.

"A heads up would have been appreciated," her mother said of the fact that Neva had been having incredibly unauthorised sleepovers. 

"In my defence, he just needed a ride from a party," Neva held her hands up like a white flag. "He fell asleep on the way back, and I just thought it would have been weird showing up at his house and trying to drag him inside."

With a smile, her mother shrugged. "It's fine. I'd rather the both of you were safe. Does he need a shower? Breakfast? A telling off?"

"All of the above," Neva grinned, thankful to have a parent who actually seemed to care for their relationship and not a power dynamic. 

"Well, get him down here, then. I'm sure the front door is much easier to get out of than the window." 

With a smile, Neva pursed her lips and nodded. Her mother had always been able to see straight through her, so there was no point in lying.

For the second time that morning, Neva's heart was pounding. This was it. He was integrating back into her life. There was no going back now, not even if she wanted to.

And, quite honestly, all she wanted was to keep on moving forwards.

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A/N: for any of my CV enthusiasts... I accidentally typed annie at one point during this instead of neva lol.

Double update because we all know I hate uploading a smut chapter without a follow up lol x