Drabbles + Oneshots | Got7

pull over | jackson

smut, explicit

Jackson was losing his patience.

"Oh, so you're allowed to go days without sleep, get sent to the hospital for exhaustion, and don't even get me started on your diet," you snapped at him irritably. "But I pull a few all-nighters for a work project, and it's a problem?"

Jackson grit his teeth, jaw flexing. His temper was boiling. He worked himself to the bone so you wouldn't have to.

You clapped your hands together to make sure he was still listening. "We are supposed to be on our way to a weekend retreat, but instead I get lectured for my habits. Meanwhile..."

"Are you done bitching?" Jackson interjected, glancing over at you with the sternest look in his eyes.

You stopped, gawking at him incredulously. Then, your temper flared. "Oh, I'm just getting warmed up," you retorted.

The two of you bickered back and forth, voices rising higher and higher to outdo the other. As the car barreled down the solitary road, wilderness on the horizon, the sun had set and the sky was dark.

Your fights with Jackson were like surgery. Both of you could shout and fling sarcasm all day long, but neither of you ever hit below the belt. You never lost your heads, but you weren't afraid to get under each other's skin.

"Oh, you asshat," you hissed. "I can't believe I put up with you. You overbearing, hypocritical..."

"That's rich, you little shit, and I'm warning you," Jackson interrupted, one hand draped lazily on the wheel while the other held up a single finger in scolding. "If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

Glaring, you challenged, "You don't have the balls for that."

Jackson grew quiet, meeting your eyes ever so slowly. You of all people knew he definitely had the balls for it.

Lifting the corners of your mouth in a smirk, you said, "I double fucking dare you."

The car screeched as he hit the brakes, pulling over on the shoulder of the road. Only trees and fields and the starlit sky above would be witness to your sins.

Yanking the gear in park, Jackson tugged off his seatbelt and growled, "Get your petty ass in the backseat."

You pushed past him to beat him there, a hand braced on his chest. As you did, Jackson was already grasping at your clothes, ready to shred them from your body without a second thought.

He was rough when he pushed you on your back, yanking off your pants and hiking your shirt above your breasts. When he finally pushed inside, you threw your head back and moaned his name.

Jackson gave you a moment to adjust and not a second longer before he set a brutal pace, fucking you into the backseat and grunting with the effort. "You always talking all that shit, huh?" he teased darkly, hips meeting yours in a loud, hard smack.

Lips parted, you panted for breath, enduring his merciless thrusts and locking your ankles behind his back. Each time he hit your sweet spot, you cried out for him to do it again and again.

"Got nothing to say when she's taking that dick though," Jackson taunted, pounding your tight pussy and watching your breasts bounce.

Groaning, you choked out, "Fuck you."

"You're the one getting fucked," Jackson sneered, his hands pinching your waist.

You sank your fingernails into whatever surface you could find purchase on and winched your eyes closed.

Jackson stared down at your shuddering body before lingering on your beautiful face, tense with pleasure. There was no finer sight. Slowing his thrusts and sinking his cock into your warmth deeply, he tangled his fingers into your hair and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Humming against him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him even closer, not satisfied until you could feel him fill you to the brim.

"I love making up with you," Jackson murmured between kisses.

"I love picking fights with you," you giggled, nipping at his lips.

Jackson grinned, suspicions confirmed.

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