You Who... [M] (ft. Jeongguk)

You Who... [M] (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble Game Prompt 96. “Here, let me.” with badboy/jock!jeongguk

→ badboy football jk (warning: overstimulation, cumplay, fluff, and fuckingjeonjungkook) → 1.4k words prequel part 01 | 02

A/N: i have no idea where this came from, my hand sort of slipped, jfc what have i done 

UPDATE: added the highly-requested prequel as a thank you for 1k+ notes :) make sure to check out Give and Take! It’s a similar AU to this one! 

“There you go, yes, you can do it babe,” Jeongguk encourages, as you bite down on your lip.  

He grins up at you as you move your hips slowly against his, finding the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly the cutest thing ever. 

“J-jeongguk I-I can’t–” you stutter, arms clutching at his bare shoulders as your movements stutter and begin to slow down. But you whimper instead at the loss of friction between your legs and begin to cry tears of frustration as you don’t know whether to continue grinding against him and chase after another orgasm or to stop completely. 

He just laughs huskily from beneath you, and wipes a tear from your cheek and presses a quick peck to your chin as you make up your mind and your movements continue. His head dips down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, painting the skin there in blossoms of red and pink. “Shh,” he grates against your neck, a gentle hand coming up to stroke down your spine and settling on the curve of your hip to firmly help guide you up and down his cock. “you got this.” 

He’s in awe as he watches you desperately move against him, your soft breasts and nipples brushing up against his hard chest and melting him on the spot. It’s been years since he’s met you and only a few months since the both of you finally started having sex, but he’s secretly delighted at how sensitive you are and how desperate you are to pleasure the both of you. He wants to spread you out and fuck you with his fingers and tongue and make you cum over and over until you’re screaming hoarsely or tie you down onto the bed and tease you for hours until you’re begging for him, but he smiles as he relishes in actually convincing you to top him for once. 

Cause this time he’s being a little selfish and pushing the boundaries on how far he can take you because he’s currently coaxing your through your third orgasm and is harder than he’s ever been in his life as he watches you in tears because you’re desperate to reach the peak once again. 

You muffle your cries in in his neck and thread your fingers in his hair as you feel the wave approaching again. “Jeongguk, ‘m gonna come,” you murmur breathlessly, making his dick clench at how fucking submissive you sound to him right now. He whispers sooth encouragements into your ear and moves his hips up to meet yours just right and grazes the spot inside of you that has you cringing and sighing into his neck as he grunts when you clamp down on him and bite gently into his shoulder to muffle your cries. 

The orgasm is stronger than the last two he brought you to with his fingers and his mouth, respectively, as the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips and the sheer rawness of his length brushing your walls makes you clamp down on his girth harder than you’ve ever come before. You cry out and clench your teeth and you’re going through your third intense wave of your orgasm when suddenly he flips the both of you over and pins your hips to his bed and begins to pound into you desperately.

His voice is strained and his hairline slick with sweat as he props himself up above you and glares determinedly into your face thats scrunched up in pleasure, moving his hips against you until he reaches his own peak. You feel his dick twitch once before he’s letting out a loud groan and a strangled cry of your name before his chest pulses for a moment and then he slumps down onto you. 

The both of you are spent and you’re still crying from the overwhelming feeling of being coaxed through three orgasms, with the third being the most intense you’ve ever felt in your life, and your chest heaves from the effort it took. Jeongguk is no better, as he pulls out of you with a groan and kneels between your legs. 

Taking advantage of your slumped and exhausted state, he pushes up a thigh and leans down a bit to see how his cum leaks out of your slit and grasps his cock that hasn’t softened yet with a groan. He gently holds the base of his sensitive member and collects the cum that’s already oozed out onto your thigh with his tip before pushing it back into you. 

You let out a strangled cry, a hand coming up to your mouth so you can muffle your cries, and another desperately clutching onto the wrist holding onto your thigh. He pauses, glancing up at your expression and waiting for you to push him away, but a slight movement of your wrist draws your thigh higher up and his hips a bit closer to you. Grinning, he grasps his softening cock once again and drags his tip from your upper thigh back into your slit, massaging his own cum into your center. 

When he’s completely limp and cringing himself from the overstimulation of pushing himself back into your pussy, he drops your thigh and climbs back up, whispering sweet things into your ear. 

“Baby, you were so good,” he coos, smoothing back your hair and wiping leftover tears. “You deserved that, you were so hot. Here, let me,” he gets a warm towel from the restroom and wipes down your thighs and core before dressing you in his t-shirt (a sight which he’ll never admit he absolutely loves) and pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his chest.

“I loved it.” 

You hiccup, breath short from the sensitivity but also from your tears. “You did?” 

And he thinks its the damned cutest thing ever, how even if you were an innocent girl he’d never thought he’d date, you suddenly turned into a sex starved shyer version of yourself because of him, and then returned back to the sweet blushing one he’d fallen in love with even after hours of rough sex and the dirtiest things. It absolutely fucking thrills him and makes his dick so hard whenever he brings you to too many orgasms, when you reach the point where you dont know whether to stop or continue, or to cry or kiss him. He’s had his fair share of flings and sexcapades, but he knows that the only girl who’s ever made him so whipped, the only girl who’s gotten Jeon Jeongguk wrapped around her tiny little finger, is you. 

You who he began to tease and flirt with as a joke, but ended up falling so damn hard for you after just a partner project where you ended up sympathizing with him and treating him like a real fucking human being, and not the football athlete that everyone worshipped and expected so much out of. You who always looked at him, past his body and face and extracurriculars, and into his soul and really truly understood who he was at the core. You who drunkenly kissed him one night underneath the stars and you who’s cheeks went furiously red when he kissed you again in front of the entire school. You who weren’t afraid of telling him when he was being too cocky or just a dick, and made sure to keep him in check, to the point that his teammates were commenting on what a kind softie he was becoming. 

And finally, you who he found himself hopelessly irrevocably in love with. 

And he looks down at you, with your bare face that’s not really anything special. Eyes, nose, and lips that are average, hair that’s common, and a body that others will say they’ve seen better. But its the way you look at him with your eyes that makes him love you. The way you press your nose against his neck when you cuddle with him and the way you shyly move your soft lips against him when you kiss him goodbye. It’s the way your hair feels like absolute silk underneath his fingers when he runs his hands through them when you’re asleep, and the way your entire body literally lights up and bends at his will and his only. 

Those are the things, amongst many, that made the high and mighty bad boy Jeon Jeongguk fall in love with you. 

So he cups your face and smiles as he pecks against your lips, peppering your face with them until you giggle and shriek against his attack. Laughing, he draws you close. 

“I did, because I fucking love you.”

Prequel: 01 & 02 [fin], Give and Take[M]

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?

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

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?”

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! :)

⤑ 9 months to fall in love.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; ongoing

warnings (!) brief discussions about abortion, discussions about unprotected sex, mentions of vomiting, fainting, hospitals, anaemia mentions, medical procedures, graphic sex, mentions of parent death, toxic co-worker, allusions to narcissism, sexual propositioning, worry of miscarriage, minor weight mentions (more to come)

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

⟶ ao3 link

↪︎ chapter index

season one; 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 

season two; 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17

season three; 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24

epilogue; 25

↪︎ drabbles

read here

↪︎ extras

9MTFIL pinboard //  9MTFIL vibes  // 9MTFIL moodboard (made by @nunalsk​) // 9MTFIL playlist 

Written 2022. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2022

— Borderland (m)

→ word count: 8k

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ genre: angst, smut 18+ | demon au

→ summary: they say the darkness harbors creatures. you’re not to show your identity to one however when you meet a handsome stranger that enchants you, you throw caution to the wind.

→ warnings: mentions of disappearances, explicit smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), creampie, multiple orgasms, 

→ a/n: ooof okay so I intended this to be like 5k at max rip but here we are. I had this idea about a year ago and it’s halloween so I figured now was the perfect time to write this (plus you guys wanted demon yoongi so here you go). I hope you enjoy :)

The excitement in the air is palpable. 

The townsfolk buzz as they hurry along the paths, the sun - which dips below the horizon - signaling there is only a few hours left. Splashes of oranges, reds, yellows and pinks are sprayed across the sky, bleeding into darkness with each inch of light that disappears. 

The leaves have begun their transition, the green changing into red to brown; falling in a graceful dance with the gentle wind. Some trees are left bare, their branches no longer home to the creatures that live around the forest. Instead, they have fled to safe places where they reside quietly in preparation to sleep through the cold harsh winters. 

The harvest season has come to an end, the approaching cold threatening to sweep through the land.

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Girls Like You (ft. Jeongguk)

→ badboy!jk, jock!au, prequel (part 2) to You Who [M] (part 1 here) → 8k words, (lots of fluff, slight smut, tiny bit angst)

A/N: Yay! Thank you everyone for enjoying the badboy!jk couple! You Who was my first fic to get to 1k notes, and after uploading the prequel pt. 1, I reached 1k! Thank you everyone again, I’ll be following up with a post soon! :) 

In the meantime, go check out my other tae fic, Give and Take, that I uploaded as another surprise :) It’s a similar au that I wrote before this prequel, so I think you guys’ll like it! 

You woke up with raging headache and you squinted your eyes at the sun shining through your blinds as you sit up. Grabbing your phone, you see the time 10:42 am along with other texts from Jihyo and Jungyeon. Groaning, you thank the stars that its Saturday morning and you have no other obligations today. You walk over to the kitchen and grab yourself a cup of water and chug it and rub your eyes. 

Your roommate walks out and laughs at your state. “Rough night?” 

You squint at her. “Oh god, I don’t even remember how I got home.” 

Nayeon frowns at you, “You don’t? I was next door, and I heard you talking with Jeongguk. Seems like he put you to bed then.” 

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