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jmnsthetic · 2 years ago

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Masterlist

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

CONTENT NOTICE: Most works are NSFW and 18+ at some point. Each work has individual warnings within them. Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately. By reading this content, you are acknowledging that you are 18 years are older. Why the ban on minors? Here are some resources on why it is important not to engage with explicitly sexual content when you are not of age.

| Resource | Resource | Resource |

NOTE: MEM X MEM WORKS APPEAR UNDER THE MEMBERS INCLUDED IN THE PAIRING SO THEY WILL APPEAR TWICE IN THIS LIST (EX: NAMJIN PAIRING WOULD BE LISTED UNDER JIN AND NAMJOON)

S smut | A Angst | F Fluff |

O N E S H O T S

After a long, stressful day at work, Jin knows exactly what you need to take your mind off of the stress and somewhere weightless and full of bliss.

You’ve been in love with your best friend Jin for as long as you can remember. You know everything about him – except that he is also entirely in love with you.

Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

O N E S H O T S

Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

Yoongi doesn’t ask for much. He never has to, with you. And yet when he comes home from a late night at the studio, particularly tired and a little cranky, there is a single thing on his mind. Except you want to hear him ask, this time.

S E R I E S

Growing up with Yoongi as your older brother’s best friend was bound to manifest a crush. It was small, fleeting. Gone with age and time. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years. Maybe that crush wasn’t as over as you thought it was. → Series Masterlist

Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes. → Series Masterlist

Your crumbling relationship with Kim Taehyung finally reaches the point of no return after struggling to keep it going after a nightmare you’re unlikely to forget. Min Yoongi is there to pick up the pieces – but you had no idea how ready he was to try and fix you

→ Series Masterlist

D R A B B L E S

Yoongi wakes you up early in the morning in the best way possible. Only rule: don’t wake up Namjoon who sleeps just a few feet away from you.

Yoongi has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. He has followed you down every curve in the road, over every mountain, and through every river for you. But you’re his best friend, and your love was always meant for someone else.

Yoongi has been lacking inspiration in the studio. When one of his coworkers suggests using some out-of-the-box background effects for his music, Yoongi realizes that you’re the perfect person to help him.

These types of evenings are your favorite: night in, rain against the window, and your boyfriend curled over a book, glasses sliding down his nose and hair mused.

Sunday is chores day in your house. It’s been that way since before your marriage to Yoongi. Except this Sunday, he surprises you with a little twist in your routine.

Sometimes it feels like the world freezes, capturing a single memory that you know you’ll keep forever. Since dating Yoongi, your life is full of them. Yoongi just happens to create more core memories on a simple road trip.

Yoongi cheers you up in the kitchen after a bad day, reminding you of just how much you love him.

Yoongi admits he’s never had a blowjob in his life. You want to rectify that.

Samsara [sɘm-sӓr-ɘ](noun) : the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma. OR: Yoongi has made a terrible mistake that has bound Jimin to a life of endless grief.

Jungkook loves reading his smutty vampire comic and so what if he fashions himself a little bit after the main character. Yoongi finds it wildly offensive. Every day he has to watch Jungkook play at being ominous and spooky - and okay, maybe it’s a little cute. But it’s mostly offensive, and Yoongi would know. He’s a vampire, after all.

Your alpha wants to go on a hunt through the woods. Who are you to deny him?

O N E S H O T S

You haven’t seen Hobi in a few weeks. Now that you’re joining him at an award show, your boyfriend wants to play.

From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

O N E S H O T S

Namjoon is determined to visit the City of the Dead. Amtenemhat is the Egyptian ruins that the locals fear. Archaeologists have gone missing and strange things lurk in the night. But Namjoon’s work as a historian isn’t perfect if he doesn’t go to the source of the legend, and hiring a weaponized tomb raider seems his best bet at surviving.

D R A B B L E S

After a stressful day at work, you go home brimming with tears and frustration. Thankfully, Namjoon is always willing to help and soothe you with open arms.

S E R I E S

After finding a mysterious ring while cleaning out your late grandmother’s attic, you receive the unlikeliest of visitors: a fae prince who claims you have something that belongs to him. Discovering the fairytales your grandmother told you are true is the least of your problems when you’re taken to a world dangerous and unfamiliar. → Series Masterlist

O N E S H O T S

D R A B B L E S

Samsara [sɘm-sӓr-ɘ](noun) : the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma. OR: Yoongi has made a terrible mistake that has bound Jimin to a life of endless grief.

S E R I E S

As a powerful CEO - Kim Taehyung cannot afford any mistakes to his image. He has taken to the employment of sugar babies - women paid to keep quiet about how he lives his life and to positively influence his public image. But when a contract goes sour and his last sugar baby exposes Taehyung, he needs someone softer to sweeten up his image. And you are just the pinch of sugar he needs. → Series Masterlist

O N E S H O T S

They say if you fold a thousand paper cranes, the gods grant you one wish. You wonder how many cranes you have to fold in exchange for wishes to save your hidden relationship with Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung is a demon that has needs. Some of those needs include feeding off of fear and fucking until he’s numb. Thankfully, he knows how to do those things at the same time.

S E R I E S

Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end. → Series Masterlist

O N E S H O T S

Something about watching Jungkook from backstage during a performance has got you riled up. When Jungkook can’t get you to admit how sexy you find his stage outfit, he’s determined to find your honesty in the dressing room after the show.��

Somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him.

It’s another day of shooting Run BTS at Bangtan Streaming for Jungkook. At least, he thinks it is until his girlfriend walks into the room and the director announces that Jungkook and his teammates will be battling two professional Valorant players for the episode. The stakes are high - but the prize if he manages to beat you? Total submission in the bedroom.

D R A B B L E S

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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Love to Hate (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’ve done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: dirty talk, mentions of cum pay + pregnancy kink (no explicit content in the chapter)

Word Count: 4,133

Author’s Note: links to be updated at a later date!

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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•𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖓•

➸ 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚

— masterlist | upcoming fics | networks

➸ 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔

— multi acc

— fic rec/review blog

— aesthetics blog

➸ 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍

— about me | FAQ

➸ 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔

— AO3 | Wattpad | Twitter | Inkitt | Spotify

➸ 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕

— ko-fi | tumblr tipping

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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Fall Back in Love | jjk

> jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you

> jungkook x f.reader, childhood best friends,friends to lovers, slow burn, light smut, jealous! jungkook, needy!jungkook, mature, mentions of blood and fighting

wc: 17.6k (got carried away)

“why would we go on a date?” jungkook fought the frown that wanted to appear on his face. not again. this had to be the at least the third time this month he’s had the exact same conversation the morning after he slept with a woman he either got chatting to at a party or a local club. it was like every woman within a five mile radius had a meeting and collectively decided to sleep with him then never see him again afterwards. he didn’t want to seem pathetic, isn’t that exactly what the majority of guys his age wanted? in their eyes he had the perfect situation going on, constant sex when he wanted it with no strings attached. what he wanted to know however was how they dealt with the constant loneliness that occurred every time the hook up left? or the heartache that came when he saw a college couple walking around campus throwing their love in his face every morning at 8am? he tried not to be bitter, it was cute they found someone to spend their college years with. no he was bitter, so very bitter. he was a romantic at heart, so how did he get such a reputation that meant no woman ever wanted to even go on one date?

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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Love to Hate (Ch. 12)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: multiple orgasms (male + female), fingering, breast play, dirty talk, somewhat rough sex, oversensitivity, oral (female), cum play, sex without a condom (with other forms of birth control), spanking

Word Count: 20,122

Author’s Note: links to be updated at a later date!

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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~ Minors do not interact ~

Always practice kink safe, sane and consensual & with lots of communication. Every sexual encounter portrayed here, follows said rules.

a/n: Order of drabbles could change depending on what I finish first, but I am trying to stick to this order as best as possible!

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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↳ Index [Day 20 - Gunplay]

Pairing: Gangster!Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, arranged marriage, gunplay, oral to a gun, big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, tattoos & piercings, thigh riding, spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f.&m. recieving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, rough & passionate sex in front a window, she rides him, the trope of “this is the first night where the sex feels real and not like a marital duty”

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel…feelings. too many of them. most of carnal nature. some of deeply emotional nature. this story did too many things to me, holy fuck i need air. besties, Kinktober hits different because we can be totally unhinged together and i am loving the adventure ❤

You fucked up. You are aware that you did. Five men are dead, slaughtered because you trusted the wrong person. Seven barely escaped death and the rest were either hurt or pissed.

Taehyung’s with you, cleaning the cut on your cheek a broken bottle left. You think someone threw it at you, but you blacked out before you could see who did it.

“Hurts”, you groan.

“I know, sorry. It must be done”, Taehyung answers you, replacing the blood soaked cotton swap with a new one. Soaked in disinfectant, he presses it against your wound, eliciting another hiss of discomfort from you.

“So what are we gonna tell him?” Jimin asks the question the rest of the group was too afraid to ask.

“The truth, what else?” Namjoon says dryly, fingers busy with stopping the bleeding on his arm by pressing a cloth to it.

“Yeah and risk her getting shot? Nah thanks”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“People died”, Namjoon hisses, eyes lowered in anger, “Yoongi’s still out and guess shit about how Hoseok’s surgery is going.”

“She didn’t shoot them did she?”

“She could have very well pulled the fucking trigger.”

You avoid looking at Namjoon, knowing very well that he would probably kill you with just a look if he could. You understand him. You’re angry at yourself as well. You weren’t careful enough and let the details of the meeting meet the wrong people, ending in the cops busting you in the middle of the deal.

“Where is she?!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts through the air like thunder.

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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symmetry; jjk (m)

pairing: gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, hogwarts au, smut

summary: with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

word count: 10k.

a/n: i used to write on here a while ago but deleted my blog. since deciding i wanted to come back i figured i would start with what was my most loved fic. i tried to get my old url back, but alas, she was gone. enjoy.

-x-x-x-

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

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practice | jjk

→pairing: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

→genre: college au, fwb, pwp, smut

→word count: 8.1k

→rating: M

→warnings: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

→summary: You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

→notes: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip </3. so i had it beta'd by my bby @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist here. love u bye!!

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday.

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked.

Anything and everyone, except you.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell.

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face.

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself.

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay.

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you.

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake.

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment.

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook.

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily.

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well.

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire.

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?”

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname.

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default.

‘What do you mean you’ve never played before?’ He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak.

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you.

‘You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, ‘Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?’

You answered him curtly with a scowl.

‘Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.’ He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-.”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff.

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain.

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room.

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it.

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though.

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags.

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes.

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch.

Wow.

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made?

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night.

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful.

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook.

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy.

He purrs and closes his eyes.

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather.

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.”

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns.

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over.

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?”

A pause.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his.

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness.

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?”

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you.

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod.

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking.

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture.

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes.

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.”

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit.

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.”

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned.

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt.

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of.

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?”

“Have you ever squirted before?”

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one.

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm.

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you.

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down.

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy.

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.”

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special.

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip.

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing.

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches.

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue.

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?”

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples pink and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours.

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket.

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary.

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely.

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort.

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin.

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive.

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant.

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you.

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there.

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy and red.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care.

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning.

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation.

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp.

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before.

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies.

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

10K notes · View notes

jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

Text

put it on me (m) | p.jm. | one-shot

When you signed up to model your cleavage for a jewelry commercial, no one bothered to tell you it wasn’t gonna be a solo shoot. It’s unfair being blindsided and you want to protest, but A-list model and flirt extraordinaire Park Jimin’s steel-cut abs have you kinda tongue-tied. And then you get kinda too busy thinking of other ways in which you’d like him to shut you up.

pairing: jimin x reader rating: m (18+) genre: smut | humor | pwp | a-list model!jimin | freelance model!reader warnings: swearing + lustful musings + explicit daydreams + reader is boobacious + reader is also a horny bitch + explicit sexual situations (dom!jimin, sub!reader, body worship, sweat kink, dirty talk, degradation, strength kink, praise kink, oral (m&f), throat fucking, vaginal fingering, clit biting, semi-public sex, hints of exhibitionism, humiliation, begging, rough sex, penetrative sex, cum play, breast play, jimin loves her tiddies and she loves his tiddies, Big Dick Jimin™ bec he’s literally canon, orgasm denial, overstimulation, restraints, biting, marking, a lot of licking ugh) + i am slightly ashamed of myself for going so feral, but very very slightly :| word count: 8 k note: hi, guys. welcome to filth on crack. no fr, if i were to put smack (smutty crack) in a dictionary, i would define it with this fic. idk what chemical exploded in my head. but i am very sorry for what you’re about to witness. believe it or not, this didn't happen solely due to the pictures, tho. @missgeniality bullied me into writing this, sending me pictures and filthy scenarios, to the point where i cried and sat down to do this. any yells and/or notes of gratitude to be sent to her, please. oh and @jeonjcngkook shall also shoulder partial blame for spamming me with different zoomed in angles and versions of the pictures without break. smh. ily both <3

hope y'all enjoy this while i go dunk myself into some holy water~ 😩💜

— masterlist | feedback!

“I wasn’t told there was a… male model in attendance as well?”

The Director rolls his eyes at your words – rolls his fucking eyes as if him turning your solo shoot into a couple one should not make you ask questions. You never should’ve let Hoseok’s meddlesome ass rope you into this. You don’t have an agency for a reason, you need to stop letting your model friends affect the projects you sign. What's the point of managing your contracts yourself if you’re gonna be an idiot about them? Ugh.

All this heavy, clunky jewelry on your nearly naked body—well, you have a white, crochet bikini on, but it feels close to nothing due its plunging v-neck and the tie-up thong—and now you won’t even be the center of all attention.

What is the fucking point?

“It’s a last minute addition because the company thinks this chain will look better on a male torso.” The Director flashes all his teeth at you, but you fail to make out any humor in this situation. “Besides, the male model is kind of an A-lister.”

Wow, even better. They signed freaking Sean O’Pry or the likes and now you’re gonna be used as a prop, probably made to lay over the dude’s body like a snake or something while you awkwardly make bedroom eyes at him and he looks off to the side and awkwardly avoids touching you inappropriately. Great. Just great. You swear the moment you talk to Hoseok again, you will—

Hold on a fucking minute.

Who the hell is that?

Your jaw slowly unhinges, falling wide and wider as a guy steps into your view, talking to the annoying Director you were contemplating punches a few minutes back.

Oh, he’s not a guy, for fuck’s sake. This is Park Jimin – face of more brands than you can count on both your hands. With a jawline sharper than a knife, pouty lips, half-lidded eyes and a solidly built body that he must be living in the gym to maintain, he is the most sought after model of today. If a brand needs some delicious display of naked male chest or abs or thighs? Park Jimin’s their guy. No, for real, man takes off his shirt at the drop of a hat. Pants too, for that matter.

Not that you’re complaining, though, no, far from it. He looks like a whole snack in that floral printed jacket that he’s got on without anything underneath. His abs are so defined, you can literally count all six of them across the twenty feet’s distance between you two, and his dusky pectoral muscles bulge tantalizingly.

Wow.

A five-course meal is shooting this commercial with you.

Now you want to be used as a prop and lay across his body like a snake and make bedroom eyes at him and, fuck, you hope he touches you inappropriately. Which you probably won’t have to hope too hard for, given how he’s always in the news for sleeping with everyone he works with. Damn, you need to send Hoseok a gift basket after this.

Fuck, he’s looking your way.

Short, slicked back hair bares the entirety of his forehead for your viewing pleasure, and the strong line of his brows immediately has your breath hitching. He isn’t just beautiful or sexy, Park Jimin is handsome. And ripped. Fuck, he’s really bulging with muscles with every step he takes; your strength kink is quaking. You are staring but your gaze is also jumping around his entire body because you really don’t know where to look – there’s so much to take in between the clenching planes of his abdomen, the heaving pair of his pectorals, the thick pads of his shoulders and those thighs that seem to want to tear through his pants.

There is jewelry on him, identical to yours with regards to its make. But contrary to the single thick chain that’s adorning your cleavage, he’s got two shorter, choker-like necklaces as well, sitting prettily on his sharp collarbones. He’s also wearing earrings, which you didn’t have to because they were covering your ears with hair.

You’re so lost in sharpening your focus, that you barely even realize he is nearing you. Plump lips thin out around a straight line of teeth and hooded eyes squint in humor.

His smirk is devastating. You’re down bad, you’re down fucking bad.

How to ask him to fuck your throat without offending him? You don’t really care because you’re about to be very crude about it. You might get thrown off the set and kicked out of the project, but you’re willing to risk it all by going tongue-emoji eggplant-emoji on him. Shit, is he emanating pheromones? Are y’all werewolves? What is going on, why do you keep getting this urge to climb him up and rub your body all over his? You…are in love with this man. That’s the only logical explanation. Or maybe it’s your pussy that’s in love with him, but because she pretty much represents you right now, it is nothing but undying love you feel flowing from you to him.

“Hey—”

“My pussy’s in love with you.”

Jimin’s eyebrows lift up high and higher until they reach a point where they’d be off his forehead if he was a cartoon character.

And you get it. That was too direct. And too soon. You could’ve at least waited for the dude to finish his damn greeting.

“Uh…” His eyelids flutter rapidly over rounded eyes, and fuck, how does he look adorable on top of being sex-on-legs? Quickly looking around the two of you, he sidles a few inches closer and lowers his stunned – and stunning – face to your eye-level. “Come again?”

Oh, you will. You surely will come again but you need to come for the first time before that. And you need to introduce yourself to him like a normal human before that.

“I mean, hello, Jimin. It is nice to meet you.” You try to put on a smile as you give him your name. Your eyes glide down his throat to land on his pecs again. A wistful sigh makes it past your lips. “You’ve got nice tiddies.”

And this is when Jimin finally snaps out of his reverie to cough out a bewildered laugh. Soon after, his face is morphing back into the panty-melting smirk you saw him wear earlier and he’s laughing with his whole body, allowing his shoulders to jump and head to shake.

His laughter is kinda cute.

You still wanna climb him, though.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he finally says to you, his words more of a wondrous exhale than actual speech. “Thank you for the compliment. Although they’re more than just nice, won’t you say?”

Your back meeting a cold metal has you hissing, and you blink in surprise at the realization of how easily he walked you back towards his trailer without you realizing. His tiddies distracted you.

“True.” You nod, tilting your chin up to fight back a shiver when your bare back meets icy cold metal once again. “They’re sort of amazing.”

Jimin’s grin turns filthy, gaze wholly unabashed as it scans your own chest. You know your nipples are pebbled because you can feel goosebumps running across your entire body. He lifts a ringed hand and very carefully places the tip of his index finger in the hollow of your neck. Dark gaze catches yours again as the digit begins a fiery journey down your sternum, running past the chain resting there, and easily fitting between the tight cleavage of your half naked boobs.

A deep gasp leaves your chest, body arching to invite further invasion from him. And he complies, bringing his thumb up to softly rub it over the skin of your exposed boob, between the edge of the scrap of crochet that’s holding it in place, and the metallic jewelry advertised over it.

"Yours, too," he mumbles suddenly, eyes glued to the tip of your breast protruding against the thick fabric of the bra.

For a second, you're lost. Because how are you supposed to keep track of your conversation when the entire set around you has faded away and all you can see, breathe and feel is Park Jimin?

But then it suddenly registers that you'd complimented his…well, tiddies, which means that he's now complimenting yours. Oh, wow. Is this supposed to flatter you? Turn you on? Or make you wanna laugh? Somehow, it's doing all three.

Coughing through a snort, you bite down on your bottom lip and shake your head. “Just amazing? I expected a higher praise.”

“Oh yeah?” Jimin's gaze comes flying up to clash with yours, mirth swimming in his brown eyes. “But I haven’t seen them naked like you did mine. This is the best you get on these unfair grounds, baby.”

Fuck, fuck, you don’t breathe for a whole lot of seconds after that.

Wide-eyed, you trace the way Jimin’s tongue peeks out of his mouth to scrape against his bottom lip. It’s wet and soft and so red, you wanna taste it. Breathless and delirious, you’re tilting your head and inching towards him when – his other hand comes up to cup one of your tits, placed firmly against the globe in such a way that his thumb makes an easy swipe of your hard nipple.

“Ah!”

His lips quirk up at your gasp and he erases a few more inches of distance between you two, this time nearly molding your soft curves against his solid planes.

“I would very much like to, though,” he murmurs so close to your lips, you can almost taste his breath. It is chocolate flavored. “If you’d allow it?”

As if his smirk wasn’t fucking distracting in itself, his thumb’s relentless back anf forth motions over your nipple is wiping all thoughts out of your head. Oh, God. This guy is sexually hypnotising you. Next thing anyone knows, you’ll be on your knees, ready to suck him off in public.

In…public.

Public!

Snapping out of the daze Jimin put you in, you peek around his broad body. To your relief, everyone is still running around like headless chickens and no one is so much as looking in the direction of the two of you.

Still. You might be horny enough to let go of a shoot in favor of bomb sex with the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen. But you’re not horny enough to be sex-taped by an entire studio full of people.

“Not here, of course,” he reassures you in the same low, husky voice he’s been using all this time.

Either he read the horror on your face, or he can read minds. Maybe you’re right about Jimin’s hypnotic abilities. Wow, is this why people keep falling into his bed left and right? Ooh, or maybe he just has a strong dick game. Well. You can’t wait to find out.

“I…” You clear your throat, suddenly a bit conscious about both his hands using your boobs as stress balls out in the open where anyone can see you. You’re still destroying your bikini bottoms with warm arousal, but your brain is slowly catching up on how crazy your life will get if you made an accidental soft porn sex tape with Park Jimin in the middle of a shoot. “I’ll meet you…here? After the shoot?”

Jimin looks at you with amusement infused incredulity. “After the…” He sighs, shaking his head with a fond smile. His hands come up to cup your cheeks. “Sweetheart. There’s no afters in my life. I’m offering you my dick now – as a one time offer. It’s not a bookmark now and read later scheme, okay? So either you say yes, we slip into my trailer and I see how much your pussy actually loves me. Or you say no, we finish the shoot and forget this interaction ever happened.” He removes his hands from your face and crosses them across his beefy body, while one of his eyebrows shoots up in question. “Which will it be?”

Your jaw is currently on the floor. This guy is dangerous. He literally propositions sex as if he’s making a business deal!

You want him.

Instead of saying it, you try to show it – grabbing the lapels of his jacket and allowing a smirk to curl upon your lips. “Yes.”

His eyes sparkle with excitement and dark promises and teeth dig into his bottom lip. “Jeremy!” he suddenly calls for your Director, and for a moment you fear he trapped you into a seductive conversation to have you kicked off set on grounds of sexual harrassment, until – he continues with a, “Take a break, my dude! I’ll be back in a while!”

Some shuffling, rustling and grumbling echoes around you. Jimin never breaks eye-contact even as he punches the code to unlock his trailer right next to your head. His gaze is so fucking intense, he makes you wetter just by looking at you.

“R–right, Mister Park! Do… do we arrange for… spares?” comes a scream back in your direction.

“You know it, Jer.” Jimin grins and you frown in confusion.

“Spares?”

“Our outfits.”

Oh. Oh. Park Jimin really is an A-lister, huh?

You don’t get to think much on it when he unlocks and pulls the door to his trailer open and guides you in, walking you backwards up the stairs while he locks you two in. A gust of air-conditioned air washes over you when you reach the floor, sending a shiver through your entire body. But because Jimin hasn’t stopped walking, you move further until the backs of your legs knock against what feels like a chair. Knees buckling, you fall into a cushy chair and thickly swallow at the daunting sight of Jimin standing over you. You’re almost at the level of his crotch. Perfect.

But before you can even get your hands to move from their clutching of the armrest, Jimin drops to his knees and lines his face up with your boobs. Oh. Yeah, this works too. This is what he was focussed on, anyways.

“May I?” you teasingly question, looping a thumb beneath one of the straps at your shoulder.

Jimin looks at you in faux disappointment. “That color looks amazing against your skin, sweetheart. Feels like a crime to take it off.”

You blink in confusion because, um. What else are you supposed to be doing, then?

The man before you answers your unasked question with his own hands, reaching towards the cups of your bikini top to pinch the edge of each between an index finger and thumb, and pulling the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes look into yours. “This okay?”

You’re about to splinter the wood of the fucking armrest with how much sexual tension has accumulated in your body because of his ass, and he has the audacity to still ask? Like. He’s obviously asking for your consent and it is sexy as fuck. But it’s also inconvenient as fuck because he isn’t hurrying up the way you need him to!

Nodding as quickly and rapidly as you can manage, you exhale a breathy ‘yes’ along with it, just in case he’s one of those guys who are anal about “verbal consent.” You quite possibly are an embarrassment to feminists and healthy sex advocates that keep preaching “communication during sex with your partner” and all that jazz, but – you’re a very basic bitch, right now. Tongue-emoji eggplant-emoji.

Why’s he being so artistic about it?

“Good.”

And then finally, finally, the crochet is tugged away from your breasts and your twin globes spring free, literally tumbling into Jimin’s face as he eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch the brown in his irises bleed into black within a moment.

Both his palms nearly scramble to lift the weight of your tits in them, fingers squeezing into the soft flesh, the intensity of which increases the louder you moan. The pads of his thumbs flick at your nipples a couple of times, until your back arches and head is tossed back. That is when Jimin releases one of your boobs to cup the back of your neck and pull your gaze back to his. The tip of his thumb scrapes around your sensitive areola, all the while his fiery gaze stares into your soul.

And then, to run your sanity completely off the track, he lowers his face to the neglected mound and, slowly releasing the back of your neck, brings his other hand to cup the curve of your breast. His dark gaze never leaves yours when his lips make contact with your nipple, but yours leaves his when he envelops the nub into the warmth of his mouth as you clench your eyes shut and cry out.

“Mm hm,” he hums around your flesh and runs his tongue across the hard peak as if he’s licking up ice-cream. “You like it, baby?”

“L–love it, Jimin…”

Humming again, he gets to work, sucking on your boob with all his might. His other hand resumes work at the same time, massaging the other tit while his thumb presses against the nipple and twirls it around in an agonizingly pleasurable motion. His teeth make no delays in joining in on the torture, brushing over your skin slowly, and then when Jimin opens his mouth wider to wrap his tongue around the entirety of your bud, they press into the flesh just above your areola.

“Fuck fuuu~k!”

You can barely formulate any coherent thought at this point, Jimin’s occasional grunts barely registering with you, especially after he changes sides and lets his tongue lap at the other nipple he’d been abusing with his thumb.

“Jim—in,” you whine, twisting up in your place – whether to escape the torturous fire in the pit of your belly or to delve further in it? You have no fucking idea. “Please… please…”

The guy responds by engulfing as much of your boob as he can in his mouth. You scream his name this time, and he responds with a deep grunt, placing both his hands on your waist as if to ground himself. Well, he’s grounding you too, because your head is among fucking clouds.

Sounds of wet, sloppy kisses fill the space around you, making it extremely difficult for you to open your eyes. But this is the opportunity of a lifetime, so you fight against the brain-melting pleasure to pry your eyelids apart – and take in the sight of Park Jimin's mouth working on your breast. His eyes are shut and brows are scrunched up in concentration. The graze of his plump, reddened lips against your skin is the most erotic sight you have ever seen in your entire life.

One of Jimin's hand journeys down past your hip to grip onto your thigh, while the other travels up to wrap around the back of your shoulder. He pulls his mouth off you with a wet plop, giving you barely any time to react to the shivers that his warm breath against your nipple sends through you, before he is smacking open mouthed kisses up your chest, tongue running over your collarbones, until he buries his face in your nape.

Your own hands shakily move from the chair's wood that you've definitely made a dent in, to brush through his hair and glide down his back. He still has his fucking jacket on, which annoys you but also makes you moan against his shoulder because he's gonna be coated in sweat and you'll get to lick it off his body.

"Hold on tight," Jimin suddenly mumbles into your neck.

And just as you've clutched one of your hands in his jacket and wrapped the other around his neck, one of his own folds a leg of yours around his waist and the other pushes against your back to heave you off of the chair. You're barely in the air for three seconds before he presses you against the wall of the trailer, fingers digging into your thigh and nails raking a path up to the ties of your bikini bottom. When he gets there, he slips past it to grab at your ass, though, not once detaching from where he's sucking at the skin of your neck.

"You're so fucking thick," he groans against you before pulling back to stare at you with lidded eyes. "And so fucking soft, baby."

To emphasize, his hand obscenely squeezes at your ass cheek. You jump a little, immediately whining when he chuckles at your reaction. Pulling him closer by the hand you still have around his neck, you press your crotch up against his and grind, making him hiss at the friction.

"And you're so fucking hard," you tell him in the same wonderstruck voice he used, "baby."

Not allowing him much time to react, you spin the two of you around so that he’s the one pressed up against the wall. He looks surprised but you don’t miss the jump in his throat. And now. You lean away and admire Park Jimin in all his sweaty, sexy glory. Droplets run down the line of his slender throat, settling into the hollow above his collarbones. Some escape and hang on like precious gems from his nipples. Others, the quickest of all, race down the ridges of his tight abdomen.

It is your personal mission to collect every single one on your tongue.

Pressing your bare tits up against his damp chest and ignoring the cold from his jewelry, you fuse your lips to his neck, slowly running your tongue down the corded muscles there. Jimin’s hands hold your waist, fingers digging hard every time your teeth meet his skin, in time with the whiny breaths that escape his throat. You take your sweet time lapping up the salty liquid gathered around his collarbones, relishing the flavor of his skin at every inch you cover. The two chains that fall across his clavicle get in your way, and so you shift them away with your lips to press kisses to the skin beneath them quickly, before you move downwards.

Pushing the edges of his jacket away to shove it off of his body, you swipe your tongue across both his nipples, one by one, and then follow the rivulets of sweat down his abs. At one point, you seal your lips over tight muscle and suck like a starved bitch.

“Fuck, baby, love that…”

Oh, does he? You’re gonna bite your way through his abs.

Sitting on your haunches and eventually kneeling between his legs, the smoothest course of action to take from here is focusing on the straining length right in front of your face. One of his hands is braced on your shoulder, while the other rests softly atop your head.

You look up to find his lips parted and chest heaving. Delicious. And then you pull down his pants and then his boxers in quick succession. His dick is thick, long and leaking precum. Fucking delicious.

Wrapping your lips around the angry tip, you don’t need any prompting from Jimin to swallow this gorgeous, curvy length. He meets the back of your throat with ease, massive fucker, and his fingers immediately clench in your hair.

“Like that – just like that!”

You suck on him like your life depends on it, working your mouth up and down his girth, tongue massaging the velvety skin. Jimin tries to help by guiding your head with a hand, but he’s mostly too busy groaning your name in the sexiest of tones you’ve heard him use. The sounds have the pool of arousal in your panties growing at a continuous rate. Your hands take support from his sculpted thighs, and despite the entirety of your brain being driven to worship Jimin’s dick, the firmness of the muscle in his legs still manages to register with you.

Is this guy all muscle on bone? Given the amount of muscles you can see, he’s gotta be really fucking strong. Fuck, you just got wetter.

You go deeper, this time actually swallowing when his head is lodged in your throat, and Jimin breaks into curses.

“I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come—”

You grant him the littlest of refuge by decreasing the depth of penetration, but your tongue still works on him tirelessly, until you feel the guy trembling against you. That is when you bring one of your hands up to cup his balls, softly massaging the tight sacs.

“Ahh—I – fuck, fuck, fuck – b–b–baby, plea—ah! I’m—I’m gonna—”

Biting back whimpers of pleasure that rise up your throat at the desperate mess of broken moans escaping Jimin, you pull a little away and relax your throat to push him into the constricted depth again. And you move your head on him like a maniac, having him fuck your throat because you need it as much as he does. You need him to come like this – you need his thick release flooding your mouth, rolling down your throat. You need to fucking choke on his cum the way you’re choking on his cock. You need to swallow every single drop of it.

Another knead of his balls, and Jimin is hissing your name, his body stiffened but his cock pulsing. And one – two seconds later, spurts shoot out of his length, both his hands on your head to control the force of the jerks he makes against your face.

He doesn’t know you don’t fucking care that your nose is pressed against his pelvis because your throat is busy working the thick load of his release down its channel so that nothing leaks out of your mouth. It’s a difficult feat to achieve given how much he’s spilled, but you’re euphoric cleaning it all up.

So euphoric, in fact, that you don’t really notice when he pulls you up into a standing position and takes your lips in a messy kiss. It’s only when Jimin tangles his tongue with yours with a groan that you realize the fact that the first time you kiss those dreamy lips is with his cum coating your tongue. But if he doesn’t mind, neither do you.

But you do need to catch your breath, so you’re the first to pull away. Jimin looks at you with actual hearts in his eyes. You grin at him.

“Best suck of your life, or what?”

Rolling his eyes, he pushes you onto the bed right behind you. You fall back, spread eagle, and he climbs up your body like a predator. But his eyes hold a distinct look that you can’t place. Is this afterglow? Or was this really the best suck of his life?

“Dude.” You nudge him when he’s straddling your thighs and stroking your stomach with his tongue trapped between his teeth. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

“Too late. My dick’s already in love with you.”

Warmth floods your cheeks, at both the compliment and the callback to the first ever sentence you said to him. It still holds true, though, so you don’t protest, not even when he smirks at you.

Jimin then picks up the chain lying haphazardly across your breasts to press it against one of your nipples. And then wrap it around the nub. When you gasp in pleasure spiked pain, he pulls the jewelry away and gives the nipple a comforting suck. You hold onto his hair with a hand, the other reaching up to clutch the sheets. At the same time, he works on untying your bottoms.

The moment the crochet falls off, Jimin descends your body, pressing hot kisses down your stomach. And then he’s licking a stripe down your clean shaven mound, to slip across your clit.

“Fuck! Jimin!”

“You’re so fucking wet, what the fuck…” He groans aloud, two fingers pulling your pussy lips apart. Your breath catches at the sight of him gazing so obscenely at your wet center. “Such a tiny pussy…and it’s fucking coated with your slick, baby…”

That is the last of his audible words before his lips latch on, tongue gliding past your entrance. Your back arches clean off the bed with that first stroke, rounded lips open on a silent scream.

“You like that?”

“Fucking love it, Jimin…”

He’s chuckling against your thigh, nose nudging at the soft skin, before his mouth is back to your folds, pillowy lips making their way through the slick skin to press a suckling kiss to your clit.

“Oh, right there!”

Jimin flicks his tongue against the nub at your gasp. “Here?”

And he’s totally messing with you now, because before you can respond, his tongue slips past your slit again, satiny soft warmth against your labia that turns into cold stiffness when it’s inside your heated channel. Then he quickly pulls out and plants a light, closed mouth kiss to the hole he just exited.

“Or here?”

A gurgle rises up your chest at the tease, and unintelligible words tumble out of your mouth.

“Ah, what’s that, baby?” he breathes against your wetness, voice loaded with humor.

“Every… everywhere,” you manage to heave out between your tumultuous breathing.

“Fuck,” comes a hiss from him, and a hand tweaks one of your nipples while the other rearranges your body to push you further up on the bed.

Trembles run through your legs when Jimin’s hands brace against the underside of your thighs to push them apart. He delves in with teeth this time, nipping at your turgid bundle of nerves before he pushes his blunt front teeth up against its hood to allow his tongue complete, unobstructed access to wrap around your clit. And you sob, breathless and shaking, your mind a blank slate, at the precipice of exploding with blinding pleasure.

Jimin shifts his focus, then, running his teeth past your clit and making you shriek in surprised pleasure as if it's nothing, and pushes his tongue in you again. This time, he is rough and strong, plunging deep into your heat with that long tongue of his, and licking up your juices from inside of you. The motion sends your mind spiraling through a frenzy, which combined with the rhythmic bumping of his plump upper lip against your clit, has you at the brink of your release in no time.

Whimpering, you reach out to fist a hand in the tuft of his thick hair, and brace the other one on the forearm he has wrapped around your thigh. You blink down at him through crusty, wet eyelashes, moaning loudly at the lewd sight of his head pressed up between your legs. Alerted by your touch and sounds, his eyes flutter up, meeting yours across the span of your body, through the valley of your breasts. They house molten desire, thick and swirly, and all you can do is shudder uncontrollably when that gaze pushes you off the cliff.

“F–f–fuck, I’m coming, I’m—oh fuck!”

The walls of your pussy clamp down on his tongue, convulsing as they push out your juices all over his mouth, while your entire body breaks into gooseflesh, warm spasms wrecking you from head to toe under the weight of the climax that crashes into you.

Jimin licks you clean through it, and by the time you’ve stopped shaking and can recollect your brain which feels as if it has been spilled all over the place, he’s kissing his way up your body. Tongue licking a line across your lower tummy, he sucks a bruise into your waist.

“J–Jimin,” you call for him, weak and desperate, but with no idea about what you want from him.

He responds by biting into the flesh right beneath your belly-button. “I got you, baby…”

Does he? He probably knows what you want.

Slowly crawling up to hover above you on his hands and knees, Jimin entire focus is on the chain that dangles from his neck and drags up your abdomen, the small cold spherical metallic pendant cutting a line of goosebumps across your sternum, to rest snugly in your collarbones. But Jimin isn’t satisfied with that, so he moves himself a couple inches lower, rolling the metal ball down your body and running it up the slope of one of your breasts to rest it next to the bunched up bikini top he's got tucked beneath your boobs.

"Nah, this needs to go," he suddenly muses out loud, grabbing at the fabric along with your chain that’s entwined with it, and pulling them above your boobs, prompting you to raise your arms as he rolls the material away from your head.

Just as the fabric and chain combination touches your wrists, though, he stops. Tilts his head to a side to observe it, squinting at your wrists with a dark gaze, and then he does something that tightens the cloth and metal over your wrists.

Oh. You're – oh. He's tied your hands together. They now rest against the wall above the pillow on his bed, and damn, it shouldn't be as arousing as it is. But the intensity of Jimin's stare when he scans your naked body from top to bottom has your breath catching and mouth drying up.

"Such a beautiful, beautiful body," he slowly whispers, his words condensing in the heated space between you two. One of his hands reaches up to paw at your boob, while the other grabs at the flesh on your hip. "So fucking responsive," he hisses when your nipple hardens within seconds, and swoops down to lick a wet strip across it.

You shiver, proving his words, and blink up at him in anticipation. You must’ve released nothing short of a lake of wetness on his covers at this point, and every little ministration from him is just turning it into a sea.

Removing the hand on your hip to relocate it between your legs, Jimin brushes his finger lightly through your swollen folds. His gaze stays steady on yours, while your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"Look at all these juices this sweet pussy keeps leaking," he sighs, bringing his hand up to show you his glistening digits that you are able to focus on with much difficulty. "Soaking my fingers when I haven't even entered you yet, baby?"

He pops them into his mouth, shutting his eyes to clean them up with a lewd slurp. Then his lids part again, heavier than before, and his fingers return to your center.

"This is the pussy that's in love with me, huh?"

Surprised at the question – more like shocked at the realization that he hasn’t let go of this, yet – you gape at him cluelessly. That is all it takes for his hand to clench in a rough squeeze on your boob in punishment.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You're going to die if this man doesn’t fuck you soon.

"Y–yes, Jimin," you whimper.

"You were so ready to throw yourself at me outside, baby," he mocks you in a sweet voice, quite opposite to the rough thrust his fingers make inside of you at the same time. "My pretty little slut… Would’ve let me fuck her out there if I wanted… Ready to let me strip and bend her over in public because she was dripping, huh? Such a pretty little slut…”

His fingers smash against your g-spot at a bruising pace, cleansing your mind of all thoughts that don’t comprise the pressure building your abdomen, Jimin’s dark eyes and his clenched jaw.

Tunnel visioned and unilateral minded, you do not catch the context of his next question at all: "Aren’t you?"

Your body jumps with each rough push of his index and middle finger inside of you, and your brain refuses to cooperate.

Jimin’s hand on your boob jostles you, eyebrows furrowing as if in anger, but then he clarifies, "Tell me you're my pretty little slut.”

"I–I–I’m your… your lih–little s–s–s–slut!" you struggle to formulate, brainlessly parroting his words while your eyes seal shut and tears accumulate at the corners.

"Pretty!" he admonishes, reminding you of the word you missed by twisting your nipple.

You jump, whimpering in pain but moaning in pleasure because Jimin’s warm mouth is right there to lick the sting away from the sensitive bud. Roughly swallowing past your dry throat, you frown to focus on the instructions given to you, and try again.

"P–pretty… pretty little slu–slut!"

"Whose pretty little slut?"

Oh that you do know. "Yours! Jimin's!"

"Look at you, fuck.” Jimin groans and you hear some rustling before he’s hovering over you, a hand braced next to your head, his bulging bicep next to your face and his lips skimming up your jaw. “Do you wanna come, baby?”

"Yes! Please, Jimin! Please make me come!”

His nose nudges against yours before his tongue licks at your lower lip. “You want it that bad? What will you do for it?”

You seriously do not have any braincells left to come up with crazy promises, so you settle on, “Anything!”

“Oh? Is that so? You’d do anything to come for me?"

And you’re just nodding, accepting his kisses despite the burn in your lungs, literally risking it all to just have this knot behind your belly-button explode into a mind-blowing release.

“Should I open the doors? Invite the entire set to watch what a filthy whore we have here, hm?”

You have never in your life considered yourself to be an exhibtionist in any capacity, and so his words make your eyes flutter open in confusion. But – what confuses you more, is the sudden clench your pussy gives at the prospect, making both yours and Jimin’s eyes widen. You tug at your restraints when he grins, shaking your head to clarify that you’re not actually a whore, this is probably just an ego thing because being pressed between Park Jimin and his bed is an honor.

But just then, he is pulling his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, leaving you shrieking, gasping, stunned – bereft. “Jimin! What—I was so clo—mmph!”

His wet fingers shut you up, sliding through your lips to settle on your tongue. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Whores don’t get to come, baby. Only good girls do.”

You try to speak with his fingers literally in your mouth and a garbled bunch of nothing comes out. Jimin chuckles.

“What? You’re a good girl, now?”

You nod your head, wide-eyed and empty-lunged.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He presses a messy kiss to the underside of your jaw, smiling so wide, his eyes squint. “A good girl cleans up after her. You wanna be a good girl?”

Eyes rounded further, you nod harder.

“Lick my fingers clean.”

With a gusty inhale through your nose, you lick over and around his digits. Spit dribbles down the side of your mouth, but neither you nor Jimin care, your gazes trained on each other. His own mouth parts after a while, tongue resting at one corner as he slowly extracts his now clean fingers. Wow, you did a good job.

Smacking your lips, you puff up your chest and flash him a smile. But the action presses your breasts up against his chest, and Jimin snaps. Shuffling around the drawer next to the bed for a foil packet, he’s quickly covering his stiff cock in rubber. He’s so fucking hard again, you’re in love with his dick.

And then he has your thighs spread and fitted around his waist, while his strong hands press into your forearms to keep them in place above your head, and – fuck.

His necklace is dangling between the two of you.

Swinging daintily, seductively, from his body to yours, the pendant skims your heated, sweat soaked tits with its cold, smooth surface. And Jimin watches that movement in transfixation.

“Jimin…”

“Hmm?”

“Need you to fuck me…”

His gaze slowly rises to yours, lips twisted and eyebrows lowered. “Do you, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a good girl now?”

You nod vigorously. “Very good girl, Jimin.”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “Mm hm. We’ll see how good you actually are, sweetheart…” Lining himself up with a hand, he begins to push inside of you. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Catching the serious look on his face, you give a quick nod. He’s an attentive lover and it’s amazing of him to be so aware because he’s fucking huge down there. But. Right now, you think it will hurt you more if he doesn’t enter you.

Gradually inching in until his thick length is all the way in you, he moves one hand to hold onto your makeshift handcuff, while he braces the other on your ribcage, beneath your boob. And fuck, he fills you up so good.

After he’s made one – two – three experimentive, light thrusts, he picks up pace. And then he fucking rocks your world, going hard as hell to pound against that one sensitive spot withing your channel that is normally elusive to your lovers, but this man apparently has a superpower of locating with every appendage of his.

Sweat builds, collects and then drips down his body, as it does yours, and the entirety of the trailer seems to shake a little – but the way Jimin’s necklace dangles between you two occupies all of your focus. You stare at the strangely seductive sight, mesmerized, until the pressure in your pelvis builds again and forces you to shut your eyes.

“Ah, what’s this?” Jimin pants into your ear, flicking his tongue over the earlobe. “Are you close already?”

That sounds like a trick question, but you can’t really lie when he is literally inside of you and can feel your walls tightening. “Yes…”

“That doesn’t sound like a good girl to me, baby… Didn’t you say you were a very good girl?” He clicks his tongue, brushing his lips over yours to breathe out, “You gotta wait for me, sweetheart. Good girls wait.”

The promise of praise has your entire body locking in itself to contain the surges of pleasure from flowing to the last of your nerve endings, but it's hard. Because the way Jimin is leaning over your body makes his hips meet yours such that they press up against your clit with every stroke.

You give up and sob, bleary eyes opening to look at Jimin’s concentrated face. “I’m very—ah! V–very close, Jimin… C–ca–can’t—”

“You can’t hold it?” he snarls, expressions morphing into one of determination. “Whores don’t get to come, remember?”

And you predict it before he even makes the move, so you dig your heels into the plump cushions of his ass, keeping him from pulling out, with a whine of, “No~o! No, please, I’ll – I’ll hold it! Promise! Just – just don’t fucking stop, Jimin!”

He nibbles on his bottom lip, forehead in a crease as he looks at you, movements slowed down but not stopped. “I really don’t wanna stop, baby,” he tells you with a pout, grabbing your jaw with his fingers digging in on one side and thumb on the other. “So you better not fucking come.” With gritted teeth, he lifts your hips off the bed and fucks you harder. “Ah shit! Look at how good you take it, fuck… Tight fucking pussy – so sweet!”

He then buries his face in your boobs, licking up and around the globes, while you clench your eyes as tightly shut as you can, gritting your teeth to stop the fire from spreading through your body.

After one particularly hard thrust that seems to reach your womb, though, you’re at the verge of breaking. You will either explode in an orgasm or fucking die of depravation. And so you shake your head, sobbing so hard, your tears spill on to Jimin’s hair.

“I–I–I can’t, Jimin, I really really really—please let me c–c–c–come! Please please ple~ase, Jimin—”

“Fuck, baby,” he moans against your nipple, lifting his head to look at you through troubled eyes. “You’re fucking killing me with that begging—so fucking delectable!”

You’re still blinking in bewilderment when he reaches up to pull your lips in a kiss. Teeth biting into your lip and tongue licking against yours, he pulls back within just seconds and tips his forehead against yours.

And then, in a soft whisper that feels more intimate and softer than anything you’ve shared with him so far, Jimin tells you, “Come for me, my good girl.”

Your pussy gets the message before your ears do, and it clamps down hard on his dick – making Jimin gasp with his puffy lips perfectly rounded and wide eyes looking into yours. It loosens that grip just the next moment, though, delving into a series of convulsions that churn out Jimin’s impending orgasm out of him, too. Your eyes close at some point, too lost to the electricity flowing through your veins and the explosions happening in every corner of your head. With your legs still locked around him, you both shudder through your orgasms together, twitching and whimpering for a while after the waves have rolled over and ceased.

Catching your breath is harder than you thought, and opening your eyes is something you don’t even wanna do. Jimin pulls out from you with a muted curse and you feel him leave you alone on the bed. Then, too, you keep your eyes shut, drained out of energy.

But you do open them eventually when you feel his hands untangling yours from the confines of crochet and metal. And it’s embarrassing how the sight of his naked chest, inches from you, sends a spasm through your body again– when you’ve just had your world knocked off its axis by the force of the orgasm he gave you.

“There,” Jimin tells you in a rasp, sounding fully fucked out, but just as delicious as before. “Your hands feel okay?”

You pull them down, wincing a bit at the tug in your elbow, but then nod. “Yeah, they’re okay. Thanks.”

Jimin sits back with a smirk, holding your bikini top in one hand and the jewelry you wore for the commercial in the other.

Oh, shit the commercial.

You quickly sit up in horror, bracing a hand against your head when it spins. “Jimin, the shoot! We – we ruined our outfits… and the product…”

He offers you a bottle of water, chuckling. “Which is nothing to worry about at all. These are just samples,” he clarifies, raising the hand with your chain in it, “and I already told Jeremy to arrange for spare outfits.”

You take a few sips of water and look at Jimin in awe. You’re very tempted to ask him how regularly he does this. “You prepare for everything, huh? Impressive.”

Tossing your clothes and jewelry aside, he runs a hand through his hair – a sinfully sexy gesture that makes you sigh – and wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Almost everything. I never could’ve prepared for the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on telling me her pussy is in love with me.”

Hissing a breath out, you narrow your eyes and punch his firm bicep. Jimin just giggles and rolls away to the foot of the bed to duck. “You’re the worst, you know!”

“Ah ah – that’s not what your pussy was saying a few minutes ago!”

He’s standing up, now, correcting his pants, and you look around for something to cover yourself up. A purple hoodie lands next to you. You look at Jimin with your eyebrows raised in alarm.

“Relax, I’m not tryna be couple-y.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. And then smiles. “Wear this until they get you a change of clothes. You look like you came here in a cab and not a trailer.”

You nod, a little bashful and a lot grateful, but very careful about your boundaries. This has been the best fuck of your life – but Jimin is still an A-lister, serial-fucking his way through the industry.

It’d be kinda nice to be friends with him, though.

“You know for what it’s worth,” Jimin says after you’re done settling into the piece of clothing he loaned you, “I’m in love with your pussy, too.”

Nope, it won’t be nice being friends with him, at all.

Your affronted gasp echoes around the space, immediately followed by loud giggles that belong to Jimin. You toss a bottle at his head – but you’re laughing, too.

Maybe you’ll send Hoseok an actual gift basket, after this.

Damn, what a day.

links to be added later!

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jmnsthetic · 3 years ago

Text

HUNTER ‖ JJK

As a hunter, you're hired by powerful people to kill the monsters that lurk in the woods surrounding villages and cities, praying on innocent people. When king Jungkook express an interest in meeting you, you expect the man to beg for your help, but the meeting doesn't go as planned.

⤑ word count: 9k ⤑ rating and genre: 18+, smut, fantasy!au, medieval!au ⤑ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader ⤑ posting date: Thursday, August 11 ⤑ warnings: mentions of monsters, death, poverty, societal injustice, poor treatment of women by society, blood; jungkook gets mad and shouts at a certain point; choking (non-sexual); the dynamic is sort of enemies to lovers; smut [fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie]; mentions of pregnancy and marriage!! ⤑ masterlist ‖ updates ⤑ banner credit: this gorgeous banner was made by @itaeewon. thank you, jen ♡ ⤑ feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. hope you'll enjoy this oneshot!

you can find the masterlist here and share your feedback with me here, if you want to. if you enjoy reading my stories, please consider supporting me using buymeacoffee. thank you! :)

In this day and age, girls know they can be one of three things when they grow old enough: wives, nuns, or—in rare cases—hunters.

Life is as hard as it is, even though your kingdom, consisting of many villages, is prosperous. The rich are rich and the poor are poor, which is the same even in less fortunate kingdoms. There is law and order, and people follow these traditions.

When you’re a little girl, you’re allowed to play with boys, learn sports, run around and scrape your knees. But, as soon as you turn eight, your life changes. Boys start going to school—real school—where they are taught everything. Girls, on the other hand, take classes on what is expected of them in the future, how to be an adequate daughter and not embarrass your family, etiquette and nice behavior, sewing and knitting, and all the things you absolutely hated as a little girl.

After school, girls can play with boys, even if it’s considered more appropriate for them to spend time with older women, talk to them, and learn from them. You never did that. All your free time was spent with your brother and his peers. You learned from them, heard everything they were taught in school and were able to read from their books and discover the kind of knowledge they were allowed to possess. You envied them terribly all your life.

It was then that you realized you were all taught the same thing—monsters were real and they were a threat. Monsters were beings that could wipe out a village in hours if there were enough of them. When you were a child, they were the only threat to your kingdom, the only thing that didn’t pick and choose who to kill, like hunger did. Every person in the kingdom, no matter how poor, was trained on monsters from an early age.

Because they were big and strong and dangerous, hunters were the only group of people who would voluntarily come in contact with them. The hunters were rewarded generously for their contribution to society, but due to the nature of their business and the fact that they were required to travel, hunters did not marry.

Most families had both boys and girls. Some boys would marry if the family could afford to bring in the bride and feed her too. Some girls would marry if the family could afford their dowry. In case they couldn’t, the family would send them off to be nuns, to pray in chapels and help priests, to pray for monsters to go away and bring back hope to people. It was free, and most families would send their female children there because they just couldn’t be able to afford them staying on when they turned of age.

When a daughter knew she wasn’t going to marry—either there was something wrong with her or she didn’t have dowry—she would be able to take a physical test with the boys, if she wanted to. If she proved stronger than the majority of them, she could become a hunter herself. If not, she would become a nun.

It was a terrible choice, and most girls without a dowry picked the nunnery because it was safe. Monsters don’t go inside churches, after all. They usually kill off the poor people on the outskirts of villages and slowly make their way towards the town center. Monsters were known to eradicate towns, so village people were always afraid of them. None of them wanted to volunteer their female children to get killed by monsters during training. A daughter in a nunnery can at least help in some way—a dead daughter couldn’t.

When little girls became women—when they bled for the first time—the decision would be made on their behalf. Young women had no say in it, it was the parents who decided. Parents had a couple of options, based on how well-off they were. If the family was able to afford the dowry, the girls would get sent to a real school for women, one where they would learn even more about how to be a good wife, how to pleasure the husband, how to cook and clean in case the husband couldn’t afford to keep servants, how to care for children.

However, some marriages were arranged between poorer families without dowry, though. A family sometimes needed a female touch—the woman of the house had died, and the family could accept a bride without dowry in return for her labor. In other words, families could take on someone without a dowry if they wanted to, which was rarely the case. It was an additional expense to house and feed another person, especially in the villages.

Your two sisters did have a dowry, so you knew all about the teachings in those wife schools and dreaded the idea of attending it yourself. You couldn’t think of anything more boring than sitting with other girls in school and learning how to speak softly, be a good wife, and never speak your mind. By the time you became a woman, your sisters were already married off.

Your brother was to continue with the family business, so he was engaged to marry the neighbor’s daughter when she became old enough to marry him. You could still remember the day when you became a woman, when you woke up and felt strange wetness between your thighs, when you pulled the covers off of yourself and saw blood. You knew your fate was sealed forever because you had no dowry and no marriage agreement.

You insisted your parents let you take the test. After all, you’d been practicing for it for years with your brother and his friends. You hoped you’d be good enough to be allowed to go and fight the big bad monsters that threatened everyone’s safety. The other choice simply wasn’t for you. Your parents didn’t think you’d ever qualify to become a hunter, so they gave in, thinking you would fail. In their minds, this was just a little test you’d take, embarrass yourself, and then be forced to go into a nunnery.

The day you became a woman, your parents went to report it to authorities, explaining that you would be taking the hunter test. The authorities gave you a week’s rest, until the bleeding stopped. The test was difficult and exhausting and your entire body hurt, certain bones aching to touch weeks after it happened. But, most importantly, you passed it and went to train with hunters. Once you passed the test, your parents couldn’t take their permission back or change the course of history.

Now, years later, you realize how rare it is for women to become hunters. During your years as one, you’ve only met a handful of them. There were a lot of male hunters, but sadly, many of them died too. Monsters were unpredictable if they were left out there to mate. One or two weren’t that complicated to kill if you were capable and knowledgeable. But, they were deadly in groups, quick and unpredictable. Many hunters died fighting them, which is making them—you—scarce.

Not all families wanted to let their children become hunters, either. It was like sending a family member to certain death—maybe not right then, but in a year or two or ten, surely. Poor families who had sons with no prospect of a good future would usually send them to hunter school, hoping to at least benefit from the pay that would come after their children started killing monsters.

All of that makes you one of the hunters famous for their skills. The longer you survive as a hunter, the more appreciated your expertise is. Because of it, you’ve traveled the world, seen other kingdoms, and fought monsters of all sizes—something a nun or a wife could never even dream of doing. You like it that way. Due to the nature of your calling, important people know about you, which is why you’re shown to the court of Jeon Jungkook, the king of your kingdom. Your king.

The man is impressive, you have to give him that. He’s not as big and tall as kings are always depicted in all the school books—lies told to deceive the masses and make them think the leaders are invincible and extraordinary—but he’s tall enough, broad enough, and handsome enough for you to look twice. You would have looked twice anyway because he is a king, after all, but this way, the sight is actually pleasant, for a change. You’ve had enough of old, perverted kings and their comments about a night with them being your pay for killing a monster that threatened their kingdom. In many cases, you wished you hadn’t killed the monster and that it had eaten the king instead.

The man’s looks are more than impressive—strong eyebrows framing his chiseled face, deep eyes demanding a second look, dark curly hair framing it perfectly. A single glance at the handsome king shows he’s led a good life, a life without many worries, a somewhat easy life. Each role in this world comes with its burdens, and not even powerful men are spared from those, even if theirs are much lighter than some others.

You two look at each other for a moment or two while the other men in the room glance at one and then the other, waiting for one of you to speak. You don’t want to be the one to break the silence. After all, you were invited here on his orders—the man could at least tell you what for, even if you already know he has a monster problem.

You’re sure King Jungkook wants you to solve it for him. You’ve heard about the two or three monsters on the outskirts terrorizing the city. A hunter friend of yours has died trying to kill them. Hunters are hard to get by, so the problem has grown in the meantime, but you are here with one of the younger hunters and you’re certain the two of you will solve the issue—Jungkook just has to offer something in return for you risking your lives. That’s how the transaction usually goes. He offers, hunters accept and go risk their lives, no matter how much they were offered.

The king nods at you when you move from the door, walk into the room, and check him out from head to toe, all without a word. His voice takes you aback—it’s smooth and kind-sounding, even if there is little kindness in the order he spits out, “Leave us alone, thank you.” With that, the four servants and a couple of stuck-up officials leave the room, leaving you and king Jungkook all alone.

The move is a big mistake on his end. Theoretically speaking, someone could have paid you for his head, but the young king clearly doesn’t think regicide is even an option. When they’re young, they never do. Kings think people just love them too much to want to see them gone. Years teach them that their people do not care about kings but about the food in their bellies and those who put it here. Even if he doesn’t know that yet, Jungkook clearly understands how beneficial you could be to him, which is why you were invited. You’re expecting him to offer you the world in exchange for your help.

“You asked to see me?” you ask with a cocked-up eyebrow, looking around the big room he’s seeing you in. Fancy, too fancy for the likes of you, but still, nothing you haven’t seen before. There were even richer kings who needed your help before.

“Yes, that’s right. I did ask to see you so I could talk to you about the inefficiency of your kind,” he says gruffly, giving you a grimace of annoyance. It's the first time a king left you speechless, so it takes you a while to recover. Did he just—? Your kind? What the hell did that mean? Your kind saved his kind’s asses many times before, risking their lives in the process.

“Excuse me?” You’re just too stunned to react in the way a hunter usually would. You don’t have to be there, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to. You’re trained to, you feel obligated to, it’s your destiny because you weren’t chosen to be a wife and didn’t want to be a nun, but pretty boy can’t make you fight for him—no one can.

“Listen, I am the King. I paid your kind for your services and was promised you’d solve the monster issue months ago,” he sneers at you, nose flaring as the young king speaks to you like you’re nothing, banging the tip of his pointer finger against the desk to show how angry he is. Every couple of words, the digit presses into the wood harshly, making you look down. “So tell me why our death toll is at seventy people as of two days ago! Seventy! Why have hunters died instead of killing the monsters? Why did I give you gold that will last a lifetime in return for nothing?”

The pretty man’s face changed from sweet to angry, but that doesn’t move you at all. What does is the tone he is using with you, the way he’s talking to you—no man has talked to you that way since you became a hunter. They simply didn’t dare. The people know a hunter’s training is tough. Those who survive as hunters are even tougher. After all, you were trained to kill creatures far stronger than people, so why would a measly little man think he could shout at you? In this case, he’s a king with an inflated sense of self, but still… Not a very wise move from one Jeon Jungkook, especially not when you’re all alone in a room together.

You want to ask who exactly he paid. He can’t be mad at you for not killing this monster when you just arrived there, not even making a deal with the man. “Have you pa—”

“I am not done speaking!” he shouts, banging his fist against the desk, making you stop in place and look at him. Then, Jungkook starts walking up and down the room nervously, his arms flailing around as he continues, “I am the King! I paid fairly and generously because the safety of my people—of your people—is of the utmost importance to me. There is no price to human life! I know that and I’ve invited the best of the best to deal with the issue, and yet nothing was done. Not a single thing. Hunters used to be able to kill groups of twelve monsters, and now you can’t fight off a smaller group? Clearly, something has gone wrong in the training you’ve received because this is outrageous.”

You know the king doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the people—they’re expendable goods, these poor people who pay taxes and make his family rich. No poor people means no taxes, which means the Jeon dynasty would become poor themselves, and that’s why this handsome-when-angry king is furious. The way he’s moving about gives off his nervousness. Is he afraid of the people’s reaction to his inefficiency, his failure to protect them?

Since you’re still speechless, the man continues, “What else do I have to do? I have paid you people more than fairly. I can’t give you the entire kingdom, can I?”

“With all due respect, you haven’t paid me a cent. You’ve paid colleagues of mine for their work. If a hunter has died while on a mission, they surely didn’t do it to cheat the likes of you out of money, king,” you spit the words at him, furious at all the implications. You say it with such sass you’re worried he might do something to you.

But, then again, hunters are above the law in most cases, save for causing bodily harm of any kind to other humans who haven’t attacked them first. Anything else, they can get away with in return for keeping nations safe. “We have lost many people through the years, and it was never because of a lack of trying or training—it was because these monsters get stronger the more lives they take. So, the monsters on the outskirts of our,” you stress the word, reminding the king that this is your hometown, “city have probably eaten hundreds of people before even stumbling upon the city. That’s why good hunters died fighting them.”

Your tone is brass and harsh, and you’re positive no one in his life has spoken to the young king that way. Before he was a king, he was a prince, and no one talks to princes that way, either. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face from the second you start speaking—he stops in place, lets his mouth hang open, and his eyebrow cocks up in the middle of it. When you’re done, he closes his mouth, gulps, and continues walking.

“Fine. All of that is fine,” he says, waving your rudeness off. You’re surprised he hasn’t screamed for his guards to send you away or walk over to you to slap you, to put you in your place for talking back to him. Maybe there’s more to this specific king than you think. “You have lost your colleagues, I have lost my bride-to-be months ago. They,” he grunts, shaking his head, “they massacred her body and the bodies of her servants that accompanied her to the picnic. We were supposed to get married a mere month from that date, but… She’s gone now. And they’re still eating people, murdering them, ruining lives. What is wrong with your kind? Can’t you do your job? How many of you do I need to pay to get here? What price is good enough for you people to come here and do the only fucking thing you were trained for, badly at that?”

Jungkook annoys you. You can’t stand people who look down at hunters. After all, all of you are there because you wanted to be, because you heard terrible stories about these monsters being a threat to you—the people who lived on the outskirts, not those safe in their palaces of gold with servants at their doors. Hunters become what they are because of their desire to fight the monsters and win, keep everyone else safe.

Nobody is in it for the pay. What’s the use of all the money when you could die right then and there? You couldn’t marry or have children as a hunter, not unless someone married you without a dowry or wife training. Male hunters also weren’t trained for much else, which is why they were doomed. The life expectancy of a hunter is a lot shorter than a villager’s, let alone a king’s, which means no one understood what kind of sacrifices were made at such a young age. While the pretty king went to his warm bed every night with a belly full of the finest food and the tastiest wine, hunters were out in the woods dying for him and his kind.

So, when this man starts assuming you’re all in it for the money, something inside you snaps. The hunter who died for this spoiled brat was your friend, one of the people who taught you everything you know. You’ve killed more monsters than Jungkook has even heard of, despite his perfect training, and he thinks he has the right to judge you, your friend, or any other hunters out there. You’ve had enough.

In three quick strides, you’re standing in front of him, your forearm pressed into his neck, his body hitting the wall behind him because of the force of your push. The king wasn’t expecting you to do that, which is why you are now able to pin him against the wall and push your body against his, rendering him immobile. There’s fear in his eyes for a split second, but then he grins. “What are you going to do, kill me?” Jungkook snickers like he doesn’t even care if you do exactly that. “Be done with it.”

“I’m not here to kill you.” It’s your turn to sneer at him and talk to him like you’re filled with hate. “But I’m also not here to be treated like scum, either. My kind is your kind, king. We’re all people. While you were trained on how to be a rich brat, I spent my younger years in the forest, cold and afraid, fighting off any animal or monster I could find. The only goal is to keep people safe, and not just the rich people who live far away from the places these monsters attack. I need to keep my people safe, the poor ones, the ones who don’t have guns and stone houses to protect themselves like you. So, if you need my help, king, you will watch the way you speak to the person who came here of her own volition to help you kill these monsters. If you can do that, I will grant you the same courtesy.”

You say all of this right to his face, your noses almost touching, eyes peering into one another’s. It’s a tense situation, and you never thought you’d be this close to a king—you hated almost every single one you’ve met. Besides, you can’t really get away with threatening a king and choking him. You’re not sure if the man will scream for help or stab you. Anything could be expected at this point.

However, the thing that happens is something you couldn’t have imagined in your wildest fantasy—his highness gets erect right against your stomach. The thing poking your stomach is a hard cock, unmistakably. You didn’t need to attend wife school to learn about these things—hunters can do whatever they want with the bodies whose safety they risk daily. So, you’ve had your fair share of hard cocks pressing against you, and you are positive this is one.

You raise an eyebrow and Jungkook gulps, looking down at your lips. “I— I— Apologize,” he mutters, sounding so pathetic all of a sudden. “I just want this issue solved, that is all. I will pay whatever you need, offer you whatever you want if you can help me.”

The king is as meek as they come, completely spineless when he meets a woman who can talk back. You’re sure his poor wife-to-be was taught never to speak back to him, not even if he mistreated her, God rest her soul. So, the king is enjoying the power dynamics here, the fact that you do a manlier thing than he does, the fact that you can kill a monster he himself couldn’t even if he tried. He likes it, and you have to admit you like him too.

Not because he’s a king but because he spoke to you that way despite you being stronger than him, despite him needing you, and not the other way around, even though you could walk out and leave him helpless. Besides, the man is a king—he’s surely clean and well-versed in the art of sexual pleasure. Having sex in the woods couldn’t be as good as having sex in a warm palace, and you haven’t tried that one yet.

“The monster issue,” you ask, tilting your head to the side, your lips almost brushing against his, “or this problem?” With that, you push your body against his, applying pressure to his erect member, making him gasp, which sounds so sweet somehow. Definitely not as scary as Jungkook thought he sounded earlier when he shouted, that’s for sure.

The king visibly relaxes all of a sudden and even lets out a chuckle. “I will pay you for killing the monsters for me,” he says, licking his lips while his eyes look up from yours, “and I will fuck you for free. Deal?”

You scoff, moving away, letting go of his neck. Jungkook places his hand over his throat for a second and looks at you with a blank expression. “You will fuck me for free?” With a scoff, you tongue your cheek and check him out from head to toe, making sure you look condescending when you do so—the king shouldn’t let his title get to his head. “You say it like you should be paid to do it.”

“You haven’t tried me yet,” the man challenges, his hand suddenly grabbing the belt around your hips, pulling you closer to him. He has a lot more strength than you thought because he manages to pull you in closer with just one move of his hand, one grab of his hand around the belt, one sneak of his fingers around the leather. The movement turns you on—not many men dare act that way around a hunter, male or female. “What do you say, hunter?”

The way he stresses the word and spits it out the same way you did his title makes you consider his offer. You’re going to chase and kill the monster either way—it’s what you came here to do. But, the sex offer came out of the blue. You know the sex will stay between you two. Jungkook is a king, he can’t risk talking about fucking a monster hunter, and you will keep your mouth shut because you don’t want other kings to think they’re getting laid when they call you for a job. It’s not a service you provide.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you whisper to him and watch his mouth turn from a straight line to a smirk.

Suddenly, the meek king is meek no more. His expression turns cocky, his hands start groping you over your clothes, lips finding yours. He kisses like he means it—warm and wet, tongue swiping across your lips, begging for access. The most powerful man in the kingdom seems to be turned on by the fact you choked and threatened him, told him how you really felt about him and people like him. That much is clear from the way he grinds against you, erection rubbing your stomach over your clothes in his desperate attempt to get any kind of friction.

When you finally give in to him and open your mouth, Jungkook groans and shoves his long tongue into it, his hips push into yours until your ass hits his desk. While he’s kissing you, his hands undo your belt, one of them sneaking into your pants. It’s a messy kiss, one that gives off his neediness, the type you don’t expect from kings. Do kings ever kiss or do they just lie in bed and wait for a whore to come sit on them and do everything on their behalf while they just lie there being the lazy brats they were? Well, not this king. While you think about that, the man’s strong hand sneaks inside your underwear, cupping your sex with a growl, like he’s finally getting something he’s wanted for a long time.

His kisses are sloppy—drool is wetting your chin while Jungkook kisses you and grunts, his fingers playing with your sex eagerly, pads moving up and down your sex. You expected him to push his fingers inside to prepare you for his member, but the king takes his time, no matter how hasty he seems. The back of his palm presses into your clitoris while he kisses you, and you see no other option than to reward him by grabbing his erection over his clothes and running your palm over it, which makes the man tremble against you.

“Sensitive there, king?” You’re just teasing Jungkook for suddenly seeming so weak when he was full of himself just minutes ago, when he thought he could get away with shouting at you for something you didn’t do.

“Hm…” The chuckle Jungkook lets out sounds cocky, his lips brush against yours as he asks, “Sensitive here, hunter?” With that, three of his fingers start rubbing your clitoris hard, pushing against it and then moving around in quick circles that make you moan.

You bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from sounding that eager—you don’t want to give him that type of satisfaction, not just yet. Jungkook still seems pretty cocky about it, so you sneak one hand into his pants and grab the tip of his cock, squeezing the area just below it as hard as you can, feeling the meaty flesh push back against your touch. Your other hand grabs the back of the king’s head, pulling on his silky smooth locks.

“Not as much as you, I think,” you say as your thumb swipes across his plush tip, smearing around the tell-tale sign of his excitement, making the man hiss before he kisses you again.

The king chuckles and pulls his hand out of your pants, depriving you of his warmth on you, of his touch between your legs. It seems like he wants you to beg, but you’re not going to give him what he wants, so you let go of his hard cock and shrug. “That’s how you want to play?”

“I don’t want to play at all,” you admit. “My kind doesn’t play.” You stress the word he used earlier, making it sound derogatory. The king scoffs, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smirk before he leans in and places his hands on your hips, grabbing the material of your pants.

“You’ll soon realize,” he starts speaking to you again, voice now very smooth and almost sweet, hands pulling your clothes down your legs in one quick motion, “that my kind doesn’t play either.” And just like that, you’re naked from the waist down in the king’s meeting quarters, the man himself squatting in front of you. “Now let me do this right.”

You nod and continue looking down at the man, wondering what his plan is. Since he is who he is, you expect the guy to just fuck you—the type of sex you’re used to, someone taking you on your feet, from behind, just a quick fuck to get what you both need out of it. Kings don’t usually even care what the other party needs, which is why they pay someone for their services and call it a day most of the time.

“Up,” Jungkook grumbles at you and you lift one leg, just high enough for him to take off your boot and set this leg free of your clothes. He repeats the same with the other leg, and you feel thankful for the warm bath you were able to take this morning at the roadhouse. It made your skin feel soft, made you smell nice, made the king want to touch you. He runs his hands up your naked legs to your ass, squeezing it. “So that’s the way to get a hunter to shut up.”

You laugh at that heartily, realizing this specific king might not be as stupid as most of them. He gets up and grabs your shirt, pulling it over your head. In less than a minute, you’re completely nude in front of the king, and he sits you on his desk, makes you spread your legs for him while he kisses you just as eagerly as earlier. You do the best you can with the room you have and pull his pants down, grabbing a handful of his firm ass in the process, grazing your fingers over his balls while you set them free along with his cock.

Only then do you feel even, like the king doesn’t have the upper hand, even though being bare in front of a fully-clothed man does something to your brain, makes your crotch react. It’s then that the man touches you, his mouth kissing its way down your neck, sucking on the skin while he pushes himself against you, wrapping an arm around you.

The only thing you can do is start tugging at his member, preparing it for what’s to come—even if it is as hard as it can get, even if it needs no preparation. Jungkook reacts to that by practically whining into the skin of your neck and easing a finger inside of you so slowly you want to cuss at him and tell him to go harder. You squirm under his touch when he pulls the finger out and then pushes it in again, and he notices the way you tremble, even if he’s busy nibbling on your neck. “What is it?” he asks, practically scoffing, lips brushing against the vein in your neck. “Not used to going slow?”

“Can’t fuck slow in the woods,” you admit nonchalantly, which makes him almost gasp, but he hides it by clearing his throat. The king is clearly not used to women being so open about sex, which comes as no surprise considering all the ladies at his court have to be prim and proper. That’s what they taught in school, anyway.

“Good thing you’re not in the woods anymore, hunter,” the king mumbles and takes your breast into his mouth, sucking on the nipple with his eyes closed. Now two of his fingers sneak inside of you and he curls them, rubbing you from the inside, finding that spot that feels perfect when touched like that. Maybe some kings do get better training than you give them credit for. “I rarely fuck fast.”

You laugh and look down at him, speeding up the movements of your hand which is still wrapped around his thick shaft. The faster you move, the more the king grunts and hums against your chest, his tongue poking out to tease your nipple. “Yeah? I doubt a long, sensual fuck will help you get all that pent-up frustration out, king.”

“Who said I’m frustrated?” Jungkook looks up at you and bites into the flesh of your breast, just around the nipple, chuckling evilly when you groan and clench around his fingers. “Like that, hm?”

He’s only asking because your eyes fluttered closed when he started moving his fingers fast, his thumb brushing your clitoris. “They do teach you something in king school, after all.”

Jungkook giggles and starts moving his hand faster, which makes you grab onto his fine shirt and start doing the same with your hand. You’re not letting him off easy. “Yeah,” he surprisingly agrees. “They do teach you how to pleasure someone.”

“They send women for you to practice with?” you can’t help but ask, even if it’s none of your business. You’re here to do a job, this is just a stop along the way. Jungkook speeds up even more, suckling on your nipple while his hand pushes into you fast and hard, filling the vast space of his office with lascivious sounds. “Have to pretend they enjoy it?”

He grunts, cock twitching in your fist, teeth grazing your breast. “Are you pretending, hunter? Doesn’t feel like it.”

“No,” you admit, unable to lie when your body is starting to clench already, when you feel so close to orgasm you are already moaning with every thrust of his fingers. “But you had practice. And training.”

“They didn’t teach you how to spread your legs in hunter school?” he teases, knowing very well what they do and don’t teach your kind, as he put it. “Didn’t teach you how to take a cock well, how to pleasure a man?”

“No, king,” you respond, kicking your head back and letting him pull you closer as he sends you over the edge. “Other hunters taught me that.”

He growls and bites into your shoulder before pecking your lips. “Give me their names, I’ll have them all killed,” Jungkook jokes—at least you think so by the way he giggles right after and pushes his thumb against your clitoris.

“Can’t kill men for pleasuring me,” is what you manage to mutter between two loud moans, ones that tell the king he’s about to make you come, which makes him even cockier. “Can only pleasure me better.”

“Oh, I fully intend to,” he grunts and finally pushes the fingers inside you so hard you see stars, so hard that you just grab his cock and his shirt and let yourself come hard, walls clenching and releasing around the two long fingers inside of you, clit pulsating against the pad of his thumb. The king continues moving and coos teasingly. “See? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll only want kings after.”

That’s the thing that makes you scoff and push him away from your neck with a grin, even if your body is still writhing with pleasure, even if you’re breathless. He is a fine specimen, a man who knows what he’s doing, but he’s still a king. “This is an exception, not a rule.”

“The only king that gets to have your pussy?” Jungkook sounds ecstatic, maybe even a bit hopeful as he lightly smacks your swollen slit.

“Who said you can have it?” you tease, knowing very well you’re already ready to take that rod between his legs and milk the cum out of it. You didn’t come this far not to feel him inside of you.

“You said I’m frustrated,” the king says before licking a stripe up your neck and sucking on your ear while two of his fingers enter you again. “Let me fuck my frustrations out on you.”

“Well, that is better than shouting.” With that, you start jerking his cock again, the other hand moving down from his shirt to grab his balls. “In fact, that’s the only acceptable way to take out your frustrations on someone else.”

Jungkook agrees with a chuckle, eyes glancing at yours. “You feel so tight,” he tells you, reminding you of the two fingers still shoved deep inside of you which are now moving in scissoring motion. “Can’t wait to feel you even closer.”

“Slow down, king,” you hum and start moving your hand even faster, wanting to see the man fall apart. “I thought you said you fucked slow. We’re just getting started.”

It’s a lie—you’re more than ready to take him now and you’re almost positive you’ll enjoy it even if he lasts a minute or two. But, Jungkook grins and shoves his tongue inside of your mouth again, pushing his clothed chest against yours, removing his fingers from you. “Can I taste you?” he hums into your ear, his body warm next to yours. You’re surprised that is what a king wants, but you’re not going to let that show.

“You’ll have to pay me extra for that,” you tease, referring to his earlier comment when he thought he’d be pulling all the strings. However, the king drops to his knees and takes your sex into his mouth instantly, humming as he does so. His tongue probes between your lips, sinking to your entrance, swirling around it, and then moves back up to your clitoris, all in a couple of seconds. Whatever they taught in king school should be taught in all schools, you think to yourself, but you’re not admitting it to Jungkook. So you get yourself together, clear your throat, and mumble, “You heard me?”

“Loud and clear,” the man sucking on your sex says and moves away, your wetness on his chin. The way he looks at you makes you clench around nothing—there’s desire in his eyes, desire and need to have you, and you’re not used to being looked at like that. You’re not one of the beautiful and polished court ladies with long, beautiful hair, silky dresses, and skin made sweet by lotions. You’re not someone men look at that way, especially not kings. “Not a problem. I’m the king, right?”

You simply nod and place your feet on the desk in a move that’s so unladylike it’s almost comical. You half-expect someone of his caliber to mock you for it, tell you it’s not the proper way to behave, instruct you to lie down and take it, try to hide your sex, and act all shy when a man wants to shove his face in your crotch. But, Jungkook doesn’t. Instead, he just grabs your thighs, pushes them apart even more, and dives right back in, tongue moving up and down your slit, juices spilling onto his firm, expensive desk.

You’re handing him all control, you realize a couple of minutes in when your toes start curling again, when it feels like Jungkook is becoming one with your pussy, not even taking a breath while he’s eating you out—or so it seems. You’re just sitting there, propped up on your elbows, and staring at his pretty face.

He really is a pretty man, even if that is considered an insult for his sex. Men want to be called handsome, gruff, manly. But, you’re starting to realize you like them pretty whenever you look down between your legs and see Jungkook suck on your clit, his eyes playfully staring back at yours. He shouldn’t have this type of control over you and your preferences, so you continue teasing him. “How many women have you paid to fuck on this desk, king?”

It should put him in his place, remind him about the payment thing, give you the upper hand. But, the comment just makes him hum against your skin. “About to christen it,” he mumbles. Oh, so no one else got fucked on this desk by the man himself? Interesting.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Your eyes look down, his look up, and right then, you know he’s going to give it to you hard. Soon enough, he’s on his feet, clothes around his thighs, cock smacking against your now thoroughly wet and prepared slit. The king kisses you, lets you feel your sweet tanginess on his tongue, something you haven’t tasted in years, and you kiss him back just as eagerly, grip his soft curls and pull him in even closer. While kissing, the tip of his cock enters you and the rest of it quickly follows.

The way you grunt at the feeling makes Jungkook chuckle and break away from the kiss. “Good?” he checks, even if he doesn’t have to. You can’t remember when anyone has checked whether you were enjoying yourself during sex, not even when it was your first time, when you were just learning things.

“It’s no hunter dick,” you say, offering no further explanation. You don’t want Jungkook to know you’re touched by his faux concern.

“On second thought, I think I'm frustrated after all,” the proud king mutters with a chuckle, hands moving down to your hips. And then, he starts smacking into you so hard you can’t help but cry out. “Should take it out on you.”

You’ve already had one orgasm and he’s built up the second one perfectly, so every stroke against your walls feels lovely, feels like exactly what you need. Jungkook seems to know that because there’s a confident look on his face that’s frowning, jaw clenched as he thrusts hard. It’s the type of face people make when they do hard work—like fighting off big, bad monsters, straining to use all their power to overcome the enemy, or doing manual labor. In other words, it’s not a face you expect a king to make, especially not a king as powerful and rich like the one currently inside of you.

“What are you so frustrated about?” you manage to squeeze the words out, even if you feel like he’s beating your hips with his, like his cock is slamming against your walls hard, like you’ll feel him inside of you long after Jungkook pulls out. “Hard being king?”

He stops trying so valiantly for a second and breaks out into laughter, even if his hips keep smacking against yours, making your ass push into the wood you’re sitting on. “Lost a lot to monsters,” he grunts, moving in so close he can barely pull his cock out of you, but that just means the thrusts are deep every time. Jungkook pulls his hips back just an inch and slams them into you again. “My future wife,” he says, reminding you of the fact that he was supposed to be a married man.

“You’re the king, your family will find a suitable match,” you say spitefully. Well, it’s not exactly out of spite, but you’re just disappointed with how the world works, how all these things are contractual. You can’t count how many men have propositioned you during the years despite the rings on their ring fingers, knowing their dutiful wives were waiting at home. Marriages were arranged by families or completely transactional—there was no love or lust or friendship behind them. “Only the finest for the king, right? I’m sure some poor soul out there is just finishing wife school hoping to become the queen.”

You were sure the king was already supposed to marry some beautiful rich girl whose father owned a lot of land or businesses. These things were arranged before people even met, without their consent or care for the well-being of the people involved in the marriage. “I didn’t even want that match to begin with,” he informs you, pressing his lips against yours for a second before grunting when you clench around him on purpose. “Let alone a suitable one.”

“A rebel king?” You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist just to pull him into your frame, feel his body against yours. “I love that.”

When he accepts the new power play and starts pumping himself into you again, Jungkook grunts, “Monsters have taken people away from me.” You don’t need to be reminded of the dangers you face every day, so you hum. “And they’ve also taken my ability to think.”

“Why do you say that, king?” you mumble, grabbing your breast and squeezing it, which gets him to stare. Suddenly, he shifts, wraps his arms around your waist, and leans forward to lick your nipple.

Only then does the proud king answer your question. “I’m here balls deep in a hunter,” he reminds you, sheathing himself into you all the way and pausing for a second, “just because she has a big mouth.” The way Jungkook looks at you tells you all you need to know—he’s loving every second of it. His big eyes are focused on yours as his lips quiver into a smirk, and there’s something gentle about the way he looks at you.

You laugh at that and let him suck on your breasts for a while, while he continues pumping his thick length inside of you and sending shivers down your spine with his nimble tongue. “At least I’ll solve your problem for you.”

“Oh, you sure will,” he hums, “you’ll solve many of them.” You’re not sure what the mighty king means by that, but you’re taking it.

When his breathing gets ragged, you start meeting his thrust with your hips, allowing Jungkook to sink even further inside of you, which gets him to moan sweetly, eyes rolling to the back of his head. By this point, the king is sweaty, the ends of his curls sticking to the sides of his face, mouth moving from your breasts to your mouth periodically, unable to stay in one place. Somehow, the worn-out look doesn’t ruin his prettiness, doesn’t make him look any less soft, even if his face is getting red and frowning every time your walls wrap around his thick cockhead.

“God almighty!” Jungkook groans, pressing his wet forehead into the side of your face, breathing out so heavily you think he’s already come. “Can I finish inside of you? I feel like I'll die if I don’t.” He sounds so desperate that it makes you think you could get him to do anything for you.

“Only if you marry me, king,” you joke, knowing that’s the one thing hunters can’t do. You can sleep around without being married, you can travel the world, earn money and spend it however you want to, but you can’t start a family.

If you get pregnant, you’re out in the street, unable to take care of a child, unable to continue hunting. A pregnant woman can’t hunt. You’re dead within a couple of months without a roof over your head or security for your baby. You can’t risk it, no hunter can. The men can’t have a family back home when there is no home—that’s the life of a drifter like you.

“I’ll give you everything you want,” the king admits, confirming your suspicions. He pulls you in closer, his arms holding your chest close to his as he pumps fast, fingers digging into the skin of your back. “Give you everything, hm? Just let me, this once…”

“You heard me the first time,” you repeat yourself, a part of you wanting to feel him pump you full of cum, wanting to see the king lose control and get a bit stupid because of what you have between your legs, risk it all. Wouldn’t that be satisfying, knowing what you have between your legs made the king risk impregnation?

“Fine then. I’ll do it,” Jungkook says before he kisses your mouth.

The next second, his hips start staggering and he buries himself inside of you with a loud grunt. The low grunt turns into barely audible, sweet moans that make you clench—he sounds so vulnerable. That’s when you realize the king has ejaculated inside of you, that his semen is what is causing the sudden warmth between your walls.

“Did you just—?” You’re speechless. You haven’t really pushed him away or tried to stop him, so it’s on you, but you just didn’t think a king would be so reckless with it. The chances of this resulting in a child are slim, but the possibility is there.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, moving away from the kiss but staying buried inside of you, his lips still close to yours. “You don’t have to kill the monsters, but you have to be my wife. The child of a hunter and king has to be the finest specimen, don’t you think?”

“I’m not a meek little girl you can push around, king,” you stress the word with a scoff. The king might not be serious, but you decide to be honest with him. He might be—Jungkook is no typical king. “I don’t know my place and don’t have wife training. I’m not fit to be a king’s wife or any man’s wife, for that matter. You saw me when I get angry.”

“I like you better this way,” he hums, hand cupping your face, cock slowly slipping out of you. “I need someone who contradicts me once in a while. Besides, this is all the wife training you need. You passed.”

“No dowry, either,” you remind him, still not feeling any shame about him being inside of you, about his semen slowly dripping down onto the desk, about the king’s mouth being an inch away from yours. “Your—the people will go wild. You’d get nothing in return.”

Jungkook cups your face in a move so surprising it makes you stiffen. As if he realizes your inner turmoil, he smiles at you and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs. “I have all the money I could need. I don’t need your father to give me any land or gold or strategic alliance. But, you have the experience of a hunter which none of my men can compete with. I can never have it, no matter how much money I have.”

You chuckle, unable to stop looking at the man who looks quite serious about the whole thing. Maybe he has gone mad. Maybe you kind of like it. “Oh, so you only want me for my experience with monsters?”

“Hm,” Jungkook hums and lets go of your face in favor of wrapping his arms around you. “I quite like your self-sufficiency, too. You’re not afraid to speak your mind. That’s a first.” With that, the king leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “And that sweet cunt is just a bonus.”

You chuckle again, shaking your head as the king kisses your neck, as his cock leaves your hole, causing his semen to spill out of you. “Is that enough for a marriage?”

“Aren’t most of them transactional?” Jungkook challenges, cocking an eyebrow up. “I’d get those three things out of the marriage. You’d get… A different life.”

“How come?” It’s quite obvious how a king’s life differs from a hunter’s, but you ask nonetheless. You want to hear what kind of a life he has planned for you, if any.

“Well, instead of being alone all the time, you’d have a husband,” he notes with a smile, quickly adding, “a husband that finds you intellectually challenging and so incredibly attractive. A husband that would give you all the freedom you need. A husband that would value your opinions when it came to strategy and defense against monsters. You wouldn’t have to be a trophy wife and do any of the ladylike crap they sell to young girls in school.”

All of it sounds a bit too good to be true. You never wanted to be a wife in the traditional sense and stick around the house while the husband worked and made a living. You didn’t want to have children you’d raise on your own, and you didn’t want to have to worry about being poor and not being able to support your children. With a husband like Jungkook, none of that would be a problem.

“Promise?” You hear yourself whispering against his lips, even if you’re still in shock, even if none of it seems real. It’s a good way out of a scary and lonely life you’ve lived for longer than expected in your profession.

“I promise, hunter,” the king says, sealing the deal with a gentle kiss. “Now, who do we find to kill these monsters?”

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