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allyreads · 2 years

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wedding season ♡ the aftermath

You and Minho decide to talk it out, but you're both drunk and saying things you shouldn't.

⇢ pairing: minho x fem!reader ⇢ word count: 9.8k ⇢ genre: smut, angst, non-idol!au, fake dating!au, exes to lovers!au, unrequited love, love triangle, exboyfriend!minho, ex!best friend chan ⇢ warnings: excessive drinking, swearing, arguing; overthinking!!; this chapter is just one long fight during which they say a lot of stupid things to each other (emotional rollercoaster) ⇢ masterlist ♡ series masterpost ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3 ⇢ reblogs and feedback are always motivating and appreciated! ♡

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Once you two walk into your hotel room, the mood changes, but Minho’s still pouting as he watches you take off your shoes, walk over to the bed, and sit on it. You’re not sure what to tell him, but you’re glad he’s here at least. He could be out there with Seoyoon, taking out his frustrations with you on her in the best way imaginable. Somehow, the thought irks you.

“You know, you two have a lot in common,” your ex points out with a snicker, leaning against the wall that connects the hallway with your room. His voice is laced with annoyance, and you completely understand him at this point. “Can’t keep a promise to save your life.”

“I’m sorry about not paying more attention to you down there,” you apologize again, meaning it. Minho has every right to be upset with you—you begged him to come with you, promising you’d stay with him just to get lost in the crowd and leave him on his own. He didn’t want to be there, but he came for you, and you let him down. “I’m stupid and tipsy. I should have checked in on you every couple of songs.”

It’s not that good of an excuse, nothing is, but it’s the truth. You wanted some time alone to think and time got away from you.

“You should have, but you can’t be worrying about promises when you’re dancing with Chris!” Minho mutters, loosening his tie enough to pull it off over his head. Then, he throws it on a chair next to your bed and huffs. “Promises don’t mean shit to you anyway. Never have.”

You know he’s drunk and there is no point in arguing, but you can’t help it when he’s attacking your personality. It hurts even more after yesterday, after the pool, after having his hands on you again. “You’re being too harsh. What other promise have I broken?”

Minho doesn’t respond. Instead, he stops leaning against the wall and walks over to where you’re sitting, standing right above you. It all feels so intimate, even more so because it’s not sexual at all. Yet, he’s standing right above you, looking down at you with a glare that shows you exactly how he feels about you. “We’re leaving in two days,” he informs you, making himself seem drunker than you thought he was.

What’s that got to do with your conversation? “I know, Minho.”

He scoffs at you, eyes focusing on yours. “Okay. When am I getting my reward, then? Yesterday wasn’t my reward.”

The reward! Hearing him say the word reminds you of why he’s really here and what this is all about. You’ve been dumb, letting yourself think about Minho a bit too much, trying to bring an old thing back to life just because he’s said some nice words and treated you well when you were around each other.

He’s just here because he’s getting laid—end of. You’re an idiot for trying to assign meaning to something that just isn’t there, for making this whole thing out to be something it is clearly not. Minho is still just a guy and is thinking with his dick. Didn’t he just try to fuck Seoyoon? If his dick worked earlier, he would be in her right now and not here with you.

“Oh. Do you want it now?” you bluff, knowing he’s not going to say yes. He’s too drunk for that, and so are you, and that’s not how Minho has sex. The last time you had it, you were both tipsy but could still think straight. The way he scoffs at you annoys you, makes you think he’s mocking you all over again. He’s here just for sex, once again. “You just said you couldn’t get it up for Seoyoon, so…”

“Classy. No, I don’t want to fuck you,” he spits the words out and turns you down without even giving it a second thought. “I’m just checking how committed you are to this insanity.”

The way Minho stresses the word rubs you the wrong way. Where is this coming from now, a day before the wedding? You’re probably just annoyed because he’s judging you, but it’s hard to think straight with that much alcohol in your system, with all the bottled-up frustration and disappointment with yourself. Besides, hearing him say he doesn’t want to sleep with you again does hurt.

“Need I remind you that you said yes to this?” you snap back, standing up so you two are face to face. The moment becomes a lot more intimate since your chests are touching, but there’s nothing sexual about it. Well, maybe a little bit, but only because you know how good make-up sex is with Minho.

“Yes, for the free trip and booze.” As always, Minho has a response up his sleeve. “The more I realize you're going through with it, the more I regret saying yes.”

“What’s there for you to regret?” you can’t help but ask, wondering why he’s suddenly feeling this way about the whole thing when he seemed amused earlier. In fact, he’s the one who seems to be giving you chances to be alone with Chris.

Minho gulps, gaze flying down before he looks at you again, the cockiness wiped away from his face. “I was supposed to be a pretend boyfriend and not someone you hate.”

“What?” you breathe the word out, hearing your own voice quiver. He thinks that, after everything? “I don’t hate you, Minho. I could never.”

Minho practically rolls his eyes at you. “You’re telling everyone you’re not happy and want to break up with me. You didn’t even talk to me the entire night. Everyone thinks you hate me. News travels fast, pretty.”

The whole thing is kind of ridiculous, so you have to chuckle, which makes him wince. “We’re not together!” you mutter at your ex, still confused about the whole thing. He agreed on this whole thing with you, he said yes to it. “Why do you care if I say that to people?”

“I don’t!” Minho could never hide his feelings well, and annoyance is once again written all over his face.

“Then what’s this all about?”

Are you really going to discuss this now? You might as well now that you have asked that question. Your mind is all over the place this week. You came here to try to see if Chris and you would work, not to reminisce about your past with Minho.

He sighs as if he’s tired of everything, and his facial expressions mirror that. “Maybe I do care. You know I like people to like me, and all these folks think I’m the worst boyfriend out there,” Minho says with a look that makes you feel sorry for him.

“Maybe if you stopped bickering with me in public, they wouldn’t,” you suggest, even though you feel bad for everything. There’s something about him that always makes you want to contradict him, get him angry, and you hate that about yourself. “Also, try not fucking the mother of the bride the night before the wedding.”

He leans in, mouth an inch away from yours. “Yeah, because then you’d act like you’re all in love with me. Your plan sucks,” he spits the words at you, eyes peering into yours as his narrow into slits. Oh, Minho is pissed. “You didn’t make him jealous. You came here with a guy you clearly hate and have been telling everyone you’re not happy. Why would Chris jump at that opportunity?”

Minho’s words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. He’s drunk and disappointed with you, so you should just ask him to leave and continue this conversation tomorrow. That would be the wise thing to do, the thing that would stop you both from saying things you don’t mean, from hurting the other.

But, you’re childish and stupid and you think you deserve to get hurt, so you play along, muttering a mean “Fuck you” before moving to the hallway, unable to stand being so close to him. Minho always looks at you in a way that makes it impossible for you to get mad at him, so you can’t stand so close to him and look right at his face when he has that kind of power over you.

As if he senses you’re avoiding looking at him, Minho follows you, his body suddenly right in front of yours while your back is turned to the wall. You have no choice but to look at him, and your ex doesn’t seem happy with what you’ve just told him.

“Fuck me? Oh, wow. You really can’t stand it when people tell you the truth. You want someone like Chris who will keep indulging you. That’s what he always did, right?” Minho pauses to scoff at you, reminding you of just how ridiculous he finds you. “Even back then, he could never stand up to you or disagree with you, and you were the same. You built your whole attraction to each other based on these personalities you both completely fucking faked, and Chris knows that. Years later, you still don’t.”

“And how would you know?” you grunt, feeling the urge to push him away from you or kiss him just to get him to stop saying all these things you don’t want to hear. Not tonight, not when you feel like your entire life is a mess. “None of this is true, and Chris doesn't think like you. Don't act like you know him. You were a part of my life for only a while, and he didn’t like you. I didn’t either.”

Minho snickers, a look of spite igniting in his eyes. His hands slam the wall right above your shoulders, trapping you. “So you’re saying you lied to me for more than a year?” His voice gives off how annoyed you’ve made him, but you’re not afraid of him—you never have been. Minho would never hurt you or even raise his voice at you, never has. Still, his words make you shudder for a completely different reason. “You filled a box with 365 reasons you love me for my birthday so I have one for every day of the year for what exactly then? Thinking of Chris while writing them, huh?”

You did do that and you meant every single one of those reasons. It took you a long time to write it all down, but you never once lost inspiration—you just had to step away to give your wrist a break from all the writing. That gesture alone was proof enough of your true feelings for Minho. Therefore, saying you didn’t like him was mean of you. You did love him, in your own way, in a way that made you fear the future, fear losing him. “I… No,” you admit, swallowing your pride for once. “I’m sorry, I’m just angry. I did mean those things.”

Minho’s expression softens and he moves his hands away from the wall. “I know you did. One of them was ‘I love that you know all my secrets and still love me despite them’, and I know that one’s about Chris. You told me everything. So, I know more than you remember.”

You ignore the whole Chris thing—it doesn’t matter anymore, anyway—and go for something you really want to know, something that surprises you, as many things about him during this trip. “You still remember them?”

“I have them,” Minho admits without skipping a beat, his face stone cold. For some reason, your heart sinks a bit at this admission because it’s been years since you two have been romantic with each other, but you’ve meant every single one of the things you wrote to him.

You feel breathless all of a sudden, like something’s knocked the breath out of you, like something’s making it impossible for you to speak. With a gulp, you lower your voice, and ask, “Why do you have them?”

You’re sure you’re annoying him with all the questions, especially since he’s drunk and upset and you’ve just been very mean to him, but Minho still indulges you, as always. “Sadly, it’s still the most thoughtful gift someone’s given me. It made me think you actually loved me.”

When he says that, you feel traitor tears pricking your eyes out of the blue. There’s nothing sad about what your ex said, except that it could mean he now thinks you didn’t. But, you can’t confess your love for him retroactively, even if he deserves to know how much he’s changed you. You can’t talk about it now when you’re so confused about it all. So, you don't tell Minho about your realizations about you, him, your relationship, Chris and Sunyoung, or any of it. You're too fucked up to think about it now, alcohol clouding your judgment.

Instead, you fall back into the old habit of contradicting him, not letting him win, saying just about anything to prove that Minho doesn't know you better than you know yourself, which has always scared you.

He knew you too well even back then, always a step ahead, always sensing what you needed, always willing to be kind and supportive even when you didn't deserve it. Coincidentally, Minho also used to love you more than you loved yourself and has shown more understanding to you than you have ever granted yourself. But, that’s in the past, and you can’t go down that road again.

“Anyway, you’re not right about Chris agreeing with you on this one,” you say, sighing at the end of it, hoping you’ve avoided the whole topic of love. You’re not ready for it yet.

Minho doesn’t look mad about it at all. Instead, he smirks. “Pretty, why do you think Chris hates me?”

“He… Actually, he told me he used to dislike you because he thought the two of us were perfect together,” you tell him, getting close to the subject you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Yes, and that’s what he told me too.”

“When did you guys talk?” You’re not sure if Minho means way back then or sometime during the trip.

“Do you seriously think I’d not talk with the guy you admitted to being in love with and who was clearly into you? You thought I’d just stand idly by and be in a relationship with you to keep you from being with him? I’m not that much of an asshole.” Minho scoffs. “Plus, you’ve told me you know about it.”

“Oh, so then,” you say as relief washes over you. “Did you tell him I liked him?”

Chris didn’t mention that, but maybe he was being a gentleman and trying to save you from embarrassment.

Minho laughs at the idea, shaking his head as his eyes glare at you, big and pretty. “Please, give me some credit. No, I didn’t. I told him I think he’s into you and that I want to know why he’s not making a move. And I told him what I told you earlier, that you’re both fake around each other, pretend to like the stuff the other likes, haven’t had a fucking fight during your entire friendship, and seemed to be idealizing the other person. He could do no wrong in your eyes, you couldn’t in his. Even when you were clearly in the wrong, he’d take your side. Our thing may not have been the healthiest, okay, but I didn’t make you believe you’re right about every single thing. I didn’t say yes just to make you feel better. That’s lying to each other. It’s fake.”

“Stop it,” you ask of Minho as you look to the side, unable to face him. He gazes at you in a way that irks you for some reason, that makes you want to fight with him, keep talking until you shut him up. Sometimes, you just don’t want Minho to be right. And you don’t want to hear how good you two had it, how you two worked well together—it hurts. “You can’t say things like these and expect me not to get angry.”

“Get angry all you want, pretty.” Minho grins like it’s all a joke. “Differences in opinions are healthy and normal. What’s not normal would be me agreeing with your plan and telling you it's a good idea even though I think it’s not. Now that I’m here and I saw the two of them and the two of you, I am telling you, you will get hurt,” he warns you, breathing out loudly, his breath fanning your face. “You’re chasing a guy who doesn’t really exist. The perfect Chris who is always soft and quiet and at your beck and call doesn't exist. He didn’t, even back then. Had you dated him, you would have found out.”

Is that true for him too? Is Minho telling you the guy you think he is doesn’t exist? He said it yesterday in a few words, told you you’re getting carried away. Is that something you do? If Minho is right, it is, and it’s led you to some pretty stupid decisions.

“You’re wrong. I know Chris. Me not dating him doesn’t mean I don’t know what he’s like.” You’re saying things to spite him, not thinking straight, not taking the time to think about what he is telling you. If Minho is right about everything, you’ve messed your entire life up.

Besides, you’re upset because it seems like everything is slipping out of your hands. The thing with Chris was never meant to be. If the thing with Minho was, it clearly no longer means anything to him because he’s out there trying to fuck the first person who offers right under your nose, the day after you two fucked, the day after he told you not to get your hopes up. You’re hurt, that’s all there is to it.

“I was perfect before I wasn’t, right?” Minho continues barking the words at you, his eyes turning into slits as he glares at you. “You loved me. As soon as we started disagreeing on things, you started romanticizing him again and hating me. Do you think Chris and you wouldn’t disagree on anything if you were in a relationship? Things don’t work that way, and if you don’t know it at this age, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Get off your high horse, okay?” You sound angry now because he struck a chord. It annoys you that Minho has more experience than you, that he sees things you don’t, that he can read situations better than you and tell you the truth even though it hurts. Besides, his theory of you not loving him anymore because of a fight is stupid—it may have been true in the past, but you’re still standing here fighting with him now, and you still feel the same way. “I am not idealizing the man. I just clicked more with him than I ever have with anyone else, and I didn't want him to marry someone else without knowing there’s a chance.”

“A chance for what? Dating?” Minho shakes his head, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You told him you liked him years ago, right? And he never made a move. He could have been dating you all this time. He could have called, texted, confessed. He didn’t do it for a reason, and the reason is he found someone who’s right for him. If you stopped being afraid of being single and letting go, you’d see that. This thing with Chris is fucking fantasy land at this point.”

Your eyes well up with tears as you listen to Minho tearing down your house of cards. Other people would have just blown some air and watched it crash, they would have gently pointed out that you’re failing to see some things. Not Minho, though. He stomped all over it, scoffing while doing it. He also figured out something you didn’t want to admit to yourself—you’ve been single for so long, yet you fear it.

You don’t want to go your entire life without feeling the things you’ve felt—and to some extent still feel—for Minho. What a sad life that would be, no matter how many fun things you do, how much fun you manage to have with other people. You want to feel.

At this point, you’re not sure if you want to be with Chris at all. You’ve come to the realization when you two talked the other day, and the earlier conversation just solidified your opinion. But, Minho doesn’t know that. That’s the one thing about you he hasn’t figured out just yet—your leverage.

So, you spit the words at him, “Minho, no offense, but you don’t know us as well as you think you do. If you’re trying to imply that Chris wasn’t interested enough, thanks, but he’s told me he cared about me for years. You don’t know anything about that. You can’t know if she is the one for him.”

“And you know? You always sound like you fell out of an angsty novel. You want to be in love with this guy because you can’t have him.”

“Please, what do you know about novels or feelings?” you mumble the words at him with a huff. A part of you knows you are only holding onto this specific part of his argument because you don’t want to acknowledge the other. It is petty and wrong, but Minho’s words upset you.

Your ex nods as if he’s admitting defeat, but the glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s far from it. “I read all the ones you recommended. And all of them were about some unrequited love and other bullshit people feed themselves to make it through. Isn’t that right? You want what you can’t have, and you change what you want all the time. When one thing doesn’t work, you’re onto the next one, just trying to hold onto something from the past.”

Is that what he thinks you’re doing here? Maybe you are, but not with Chris. All the things Minho is saying hurt because it feels like he’s talking about you two, too, about everything that’s happened with you. You’re romanticizing him, or that’s how he’s making it seem. Maybe that’s not his point at all, but that’s how it comes off to you—personal, intimate, hurtful. It sounds like Minho thinks you’ve only slept with him because you don’t want to let go of the past and be single, like he’s telling you you’re jumping from Chris to him because you don’t want to be alone.

“I…” Once again, it’s just proof of this guy knowing you well, even though it’s been years since you’ve been close, not counting this hellish trip. These things hurt you, they make you feel sad. How did you manage to let him go if he always knew you this well? Why didn’t you notice this? Why did you not make a move any of those times you two ran into each other at parties? Why did you always think it’s a done deal because you’ve disappointed him back then?

“You love the idea of being with Chris more than you actually like him as a person,” Minho concludes. “You wouldn’t fuck me otherwise.”

You bite into your lip to stop yourself from being rude. It’s a way to defend yourself, a defense mechanism, a way to stop him from hurting you with his words further. He’s right about this too—you wouldn’t fuck Minho if you really believed you should be with Chris, or if you loved him romantically. For this same reason, you can’t really imagine sleeping with anyone else. “You don’t know that.”

Minho gives you a look that tells you you’re being a fool. “The dude’s a dog person. He has three dogs and wants to have three kids and is going to start working on that after the wedding. You? Cat person, you like dogs but don’t want to have them, ever. You’re iffy on kids if that hasn’t miraculously changed.”

He’s right about everything as always. You look to the side, taking his words in. Minho takes that as a sign he should continue, so he does. “Then, he’s a romantic. Chris is a good guy, sure. He showers his fiancée with love and affection, but in a way you’d absolutely hate.”

“Maybe I wouldn't, not with him.” Your argument is weak, and you know it. You’d absolutely hate grand gestures.

You hate being the center of attention, and being put on the spot with something cheesy would just make you want to scream. Your idea of romance is someone showing you they care in subtler ways, like going along with an idea even if it’s ridiculous, hugging you when you cry, making you laugh when you need it… Like Minho has been doing.

“Hm... You wouldn’t hate it if he joined the band on stage to sing you a love song?” Minho leans in with a cocked-up eyebrow, alluding to the show Chris had put on for Sunyoung earlier, right after dancing with you. You left to get some fresh air at that point, too busy worrying about everything he’s told you about Minho to cringe at the fact that he was singing for her. That’s when you lost track of time and stayed out alone with your thoughts.

Minho continues, “Please. You’d run out of that place with your cheeks burning, you’d be that embarrassed. And his proposal? Paying the theater to air his proposal video before the movie? Getting down on one knee in front of a full theater? You would have died right then and there and not because of love, but because of embarrassment. All these grand gestures of his are something you’d dislike. And he’d have to give them up for you or you’d have to do them for him.”

“And that’s called compromise.” You’re not even sure what you’re fighting for here, but you’re not giving up. What does Minho want you to tell him, that he’s right? That you do all of these things? You’d be admitting to changing your mind because you don’t want to be single, and that’s not what you’re doing.

“On every single thing? You’re gonna compromise on stuff like religion, where your kid’s going to go to school, what you’ll teach the kid that you, by the way, don’t even want? Face it, you don’t work well with him,” Minho says in a tone that suddenly softens. “The two of us work better than that.”

Your heart leaps at his use of present tense, making you wonder what if. You’ve been thinking about too many what-ifs lately, and none of them have been right for you. “We may have, okay, but we… You said I’m— Jumping to conclusions,” you say, voice quivering at the memory of you asking your ex about you two and him turning you down easily. “It’s been years since then. Maybe we’d work even worse now.”

“Fair enough,” Minho agrees with a nod. “It’s also been years since you’ve last spoken to Chris, too, so remember that before you try to turn his life around and ruin his wedding.”

“And what if it would make his life better?” you counter, wanting to wipe the smug smirk off his face. What if Minho’s life would be better if you two tried to make things work, even if you’ve fucked them up before? Maybe you could bring something good to his life this time around.

“This is a wedding, pretty.” With that, Minho cups your face with both hands, making your breath hitch in your throat. You don’t care about the wedding and Chris getting married to someone else—all you are thinking about is your ex and his hands on you, his breath on your face. It would be easy to kiss him, so easy. But, he’s drunk and angry, and you don’t want to take advantage of it. “A wedding. You know Chris. He’s not the type of guy who’d come this far if he weren’t sure. Do you think he’d be marrying this woman if he doubted she was the one, that you were? I know him superficially, but if he’s anything like the guy you told me about, he’d never do that.”

He’s got a point, but you know Chris is not what you want or need, so you completely change the topic, hoping Minho is too drunk to remember any of this tomorrow. He looks like it. “I’m sorry, Minho, all of this sounds a lot like you’re still blaming Chris for us failing and me for having feelings for him back then when that’s not what really happened. If you’re trying to hurt me, you’re doing a good job, but I can see right through it.”

“Why would I be trying to hurt you? I just don’t want you to fuck this friendship up for good. If you make a move on him, do you think he’ll let you stay at the wedding? Do you think you’ll be friends after?” He pauses, and the silence just makes you feel even worse. He’s right—you didn’t really think of this option back when you were thinking about going through with this mess. “You’ll have to kiss this friendship goodbye unless a miracle happens and Chris magically realizes that the past three years of his life with this woman have been a lie and he’s wanted you all along, the girl who showed up here with a boyfriend who she claims to love but also treats like absolute shit while throwing herself at the groom every chance she gets. Do you think Chris will fall for that? It’s immoral.”

And that’s how he really feels about you—an immoral person. A girl he used to love who broke his heart and used him, in his opinion. So, Minho uses any chance he can to fuck you because that’s the only thing he enjoys with you. That, and making you feel like an inexperienced idiot who can’t see things for what they are. Well, he doesn’t even want his reward anymore, so there’s that.

“Maybe you do feel that way, but Chris doesn’t. You two are nothing alike, and you don’t know him. What you know are the things I told you, which were literally all the best. Besides, if this is so immoral, why are you here?” You love spiting him, and seeing Minho wince at your words makes you feel like you’ve won this stupid little drunk fight.

But, he quickly recovers with a snicker. “You know what? I want you to ruin Chris’s wedding and your friendship. Isn’t that what he did to us?”

“He has ne—” you try to counter, to tell him he’s wrong, to defend Chris, but Minho cuts you off with a loud grunt that makes you shut up.

“Oh, stop! Don’t even try to make him seem like the good guy. Every fight you and I had led to you running to your best friend who was supposed to comfort you but instead always tried to turn you against me. Every. Fucking. Time,” Minho stresses every word, anger heard in every single one. He clearly hid his feelings well back then. You knew he disliked Chris, but right now, it seems like Minho despised your friend. “Even when I was right and when you were the one who started it, good old Christopher found a way to make you think we’re not good for each other and that I’m terrible. It worked in the end, right?”

“He isn’t that type of guy. We were just… We had feelings for each other, but we couldn’t confess.” You’re not even sure why you’re even defending the idea anymore. Maybe you’re just too proud to tell Minho he was right and that you don’t want Chris, that this whole thing is stupid, and that you should have listened to him that night at the bar.

But, if you had done that, you wouldn’t have slept with him, wouldn’t have come to the island with Minho, wouldn’t have had fun with him or slept with him one more time… You also wouldn’t be taking each word of his to heart and feeling absolutely terrible right about now. You wouldn’t be aware of what you’d lost back then.

“Well, confess now,” he challenges you, and it makes you realize he doesn’t really care about you the way you thought he does. Your breakthrough about you and Minho was just smoke on his end, a little fun when he’s drunk and in the mood to fuck, an easy thing. This is how he really feels about you, and he’s not afraid to show it. “I really want you to.”

“You’re saying that, but I know you don’t. It seems like you’d want nothing more than Chris to marry her, and me to be single and miserable and wonder what if because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing.”

It is a low blow, and you know it, but he has hit your weak spot and pushed you over the edge. If anyone knows how to push all the right buttons to get you angry, it is Lee Minho.

“Oh, you want to go there?” Minho leans in and snarls at you, nostrils widening as he huffs out. “Well, you’re fucking wrong. I really want you to confess and I want Chris to call the wedding off and ride off into the sunset with you. And you know what? You’d be happy for a while until you’d realize what I’ve known all along—that you two don’t love each other romantically. All these feelings of yours? You care about each other as friends and you were attracted to each other, but that’s it.”

“You don’t know that, Minho,” you spit the words at him. Do you not know yourself at all? Why does every angry word of his cut through your chest? It feels like what he is saying can be applied to you two, and in that case, it’s just not true. Why do you care so much about Minho’s opinion of you? Why are you just now realizing he’s right about absolutely everything? Hasn’t he always been? That’s what scared you off in the first place.

But he’s not right about this, not about the two of you. About Chris, yes. But Minho? You loved the guy desperately, and the feelings are still there. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be on the verge of tears just because of a stupid little drunk fight that doesn’t mean a thing. You wouldn’t be hurt because he tried sleeping with someone else, you wouldn’t be upset over him telling you he doesn’t want to be with you.

“I do. The guy was obsessed with you back then, infatuated with you. He always stared at you, had his eyes on you. That’s not love,” he concludes, his hand suddenly holding yours. You both seem angry with each other, but there’s nothing angry about the way he holds you, hand warm against yours. There’s nothing angry about the way you let him touch you instead of pulling your hand away.

Minho lowers his voice and continues, “He doesn’t know what it’s like to be with you, to make you happy, to keep you satisfied, and treat you well. He’s a nice guy, sure, but you don’t want to be loved the way he loves his fiancée. You just don’t. After a while, you’d come to that conclusion yourself.”

“Maybe… Maybe you don’t know me that well.” You want Minho to admit that he doesn’t know you and that he doesn’t give a fuck about you—that is what this whole thing is. You want Minho to cut you off too. You’d like nothing more than for him to tell you to fuck off, to tell you he hates you, just so you can realize that your theory on you two is as false as the one on you and Chris. You want him to show you that you’re wrong and that you haven’t fucked up the best thing you’ve ever had.

“I do know you well. Every conversation we’ve had this week proved that, and you’ve said it yourself. Besides, remember the guy before me? Remember what’s-his-name? Weren’t they two amazing guys? They both treated you right and were really romantic, you never argued with them. And what happened? You blew them off.” He pauses for a second, giving you a sympathetic smile. Minho knows everything about you, no matter how much you try to hide it, and that’s what hurts you. Have you really been this blind for that many years? Why did you fuck it up?

“I…” You’re at a loss for words, so you stutter and look around, overwhelmed with feelings. How did you get here? You feel cornered, and not physically, even if you are. You don’t mind being trapped between his body and the wall. Mentally, you really have nowhere to go other than facing everything you’ve done wrong, which is a lot.

“Face it, you need to be challenged. You can’t stand men who just agree with you, men who let you be in control, men who let you do whatever you want and just nod their pretty little heads because they don’t want to upset you. And that’s fucking Chris for you. I don’t know how you still don’t get it.”

You do get bored of fake happiness easily. It isn’t exactly fake, but it lacks excitement. The second things settle in and you feel loved and calm, you get the urge to run away and never look back. Love scares you. Feeling like your life is going to be one flat line until the moment you die is a fear of yours, and the second you feel it with someone, you run away. Minho is right about that, and you told him about this yourself when you dated, warning him about the possibility of you running away if things get serious.

Still, that didn’t happen with Minho. Even when you two were officially a thing and everyone knew about it, the commitment didn’t make you want to break things off. It was always exciting, which is why it lasted as long as it did until you one day decided that maybe Minho wasn’t what you needed after all because he was too good for you, too real, too scary with his understanding of feelings. He was handsome, treated you well, but the bickering always made you feel like you’d forever argue, like he’d always know better. You didn’t want to see yourself with him in ten years, arguing over every single thing. Yes, he was perfect otherwise, but would it have been worth it?

But then again, you can’t see yourself with someone who’ll just agree with everything you say and never challenge you, either. Are you really that much of a lost cause? You don’t want one or the other, and you doubt there is some middle ground when it comes to this.

You need both the commitment and excitement, and there’s only one guy you’ve ever had that with. Right now, he’s glaring at you like you’re the worst person alive, and you’ve told him terrible things after admitting you had feelings for him yesterday, and it’s all a big mess you’ve created.

“Yeah, maybe I don’t get it,” you say with a sigh. “Maybe I’m an idiot who holds on to feelings and wants to be happy. So fucking what? You’re giving me this lecture, but didn’t you fuck me twice? Didn’t you just try to fuck Sunyoung’s mom? Maybe you need to think about how your actions are affecting others, too.”

“Don’t even go there,” Minho hisses the words at you, nostrils flaring again as he shakes his head and takes a step back, clearly upset. “You,” he points a finger at you but quickly moves his hand away, “you— Don’t.”

“Why? Can’t we talk about everything?” You sound pissed off, but you’re not. Well, maybe you are, but mostly, you’re hurt and you don’t want to be blamed for everything that went wrong. “Or is you fucking up off limits?”

“Nothing is off limits,” Minho says with a shake of his head. “I didn’t fuck her. She had my dick in her mouth and it couldn’t get hard because all I kept thinking about is how it’s wrong and I shouldn’t be doing it because I’m in this fake relationship with you and it could mess up your plan and we were just together yesterday and things felt good and I thou—” He stops himself and shakes his head, seeming completely defeated.

“I shouldn’t have slept with you.” When Minho says that, you can swear his eyes water, which is why he looks to the side and swallows loudly. “That’s on me. But I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.”

The scene with Seoyoon must have been dreadful, but you don’t even want to go there. He had every right to do whatever he wanted with her, even if he couldn’t because of you. You’re not taking it as a compliment—Minho felt bad about it not because he has feelings for you, but because of the stupid plan you don’t even care about. Doesn’t he see that? How come, if he knows you so well?

So, you challenge your ex again, wanting to hear him say that you don’t mean a thing to him anymore. “Pointing out your flaws is wrong but doing the same with mine is a fun activity? Combine that and sex, and it’s all you care about.”

Minho scoffs and kicks his head back, exhaling loudly. “Sex? Really? What did I do that was so wrong?”

You gulp. He has every right to fuck whoever he wants, especially someone who is single and clearly into him, like Seoyoon. He didn’t do anything wrong or immoral—that was all you. You can’t tell him you mind it, you can’t make him feel bad for trying to move on with his life. It would be unfair and selfish, and you can almost hear Han Jisung screaming your ear off about it, so you go with a quick, “Nothing.”

“Exactly,” Minho snickers like you’re being ridiculous, “I did nothing. I fucked you because you asked for it and because I wanted to do it. I love fucking you. Weren’t you saying the same thing or do you just mean it when I’m balls deep in you?”

You feel like an idiot when he puts it like that because both of you were in on it, and you were the one who initiated yesterday, who practically threw yourself at your ex and told him you wanted him. You have no business blaming him for sleeping with you. The only reason you’ve said that is the fact you don’t want to lose him, and sleeping with Minho has made you think you won’t, which is all just a big lie. You’ve never had him in the first place.

You want to say something, but your voice quickly dies down in your throat, “I—” You feel your eyes welling up with tears, feel their sting and weight there, seconds away from breaking down and letting it take over you.

“I’m sorry for saying it like that,” he whispers, taking a step towards you again, probably because he sees you’re about to start crying. “But you’re the one who walked out on me both times after sex without a word, who reminded me of your plan right after just so I know where I stand.”

“Minho, it’s—” You start confessing to him, confessing the things you told yourself you wouldn’t, not until you are sure, not until you know he wants to hear it. But, as if he senses that, Minho stops you.

“Don’t. After we fuck, I don’t want to talk about the guy you’re trying to be with. I don’t want to go on a fucking walk with you two and be the third wheel after an afternoon like that.” His voice trembles and his lips purse into a straight line, a long sigh leaving him.

You did ask him to come out with you and Chris, but only because Chris asked you first, and you wanted Minho there. “So, no, you can’t fucking blame me for sleeping with you. I can separate sex from feelings and can fuck you without wanting more. We both wanted it, and you’re the one who acted selfishly. You want to love Chris and fuck me, and that’s fine, I can separate the two. Maybe I was selfish too, but I— I fucking hated his meddling back then and I don’t think you’d be happy with him. That doesn't come from a selfish place.”

It’s all pretty hard to hear, but the worst part for you personally is the part about Minho fucking you without feeling anything for you. You replay all the times he used that nickname with you, how softly he’s kissed you, how closely he held you, and you feel disgusted. Did Minho really do all of that without feeling a single thing? He called you his over and over again yesterday, talked about how he wanted to fuck you all the time, wanted to feel you… Suddenly, you realize all of that is sexual. He can say those things to anyone he sleeps with—why wouldn’t he? Minho never said a thing about real feelings to you. Not once did he say he cared about you that way, as more than a friend, not once did he promise you more than sex, not once has he even alluded to wanting to be with you—you made the whole thing up.

The realization makes you feel worse than earlier, and it has nothing to do with Chris. It’s about you and this idea of yours that Minho is someone you should keep in your life, someone you still have feelings for, someone who still excites you after all this time. The perfect combination, the person worth the effort, the person who makes it all seem so easy and carefree. But, the guy standing in front of you telling you that you’re just sex to him after all of that can’t be worth anything.

“I can’t take you seriously, sorry,” you tell him with a sigh, closing your eyes for a second. If Minho wants honesty from you, he’ll get it. He can only blame himself if some anger gets in there, too. “I could if you didn’t speak with so much hate for the guy. You barely know him. It seems like you want me to fuck this whole thing up because you want both me and Chris to pay for our breakup. He’s not what caused it, trust me.”

“He is,” Minho instantly counters, tilting his head to the side. “If he hadn’t meddled, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“He didn’t meddle, Minho.”

He gets visibly annoyed at your denial, scoffing, letting out a loud huff, and shaking his head. “You and I argued and almost broke up many times. You’d always tell me you need time to think about it, I’d give you a day or two before I called you and asked you to meet me. We’d always work it out once we cooled off. The arguments were stupid, anyway. But every time, you went to this guy, told him about our problems, and let him get into your head. Don’t forget Chris promised me he wouldn’t meddle.” Minho pauses, glaring at you, showing how he really feels about Chris. He’s right—Chris told him he wouldn’t do that, so Minho has every right to be pissed. “And that last time was just the time I didn’t call you after you said you needed time. I gave up because I realized you’d always go back to him, and Chris would always keep talking badly about me, trying to get you to break up with me for real, trying to separate us.”

Was he right? Minho wasn’t a bad guy, not back then, and he’s not one right now. He wasn’t spiteful or mean, even when you argued. But, Chris did always try to warn you about him, telling you Minho would break your heart, that you deserved someone different. He also reminded you of how popular your boyfriend was, how many women wanted him, how he had so much experience and you had basically none. Were you really that stupid back then? “I… Well, you gave up on it then. It had nothing to do with Chris.”

“Please, it had everything to do with him. The fight was so stupid, and you were at fault, but when we talked, you said you needed time to think and that even Chris says the whole thing was pointless and we are wasting each other’s time. That’s when I knew I couldn’t win.” Minho sounds so disappointed you almost feel sorry for him, but that’s hard when he’s also hurt you without even realizing it. “This guy would always be there to say something bad about me. He was waiting for his chance and kept pushing you to break up with me in a way that made him seem nice. He wasn’t. He got in between the two of us, and only because you’d never give up on his friendship. As long as the two of us dated, he was a danger.”

Minho’s words hurt. All of this makes you seem like a total fool, like a gullible idiot who got conned by the man she thought was her best friend. It makes you seem weak and desperate and really fucking mean to Minho. A part of you knows he’s right about certain things. Chris did always take your side when you’d argue with Minho, even when your boyfriend was clearly in the right. Backed by Chris’s faith in you being right, you’d keep pushing sometimes, but Minho would let you have it your way after he cooled off. He’d be the one to apologize even if you fucked up, and you’d apologize later on when things settled down. So, he is definitely right about that.

“I’m… tired of this. We always argue, Minho, and I really can’t do this right now,” you tell him as your eyes well up with tears. You’re hurt and exhausted—not because of Minho’s words, but the realizations they brought on. Was everything a lie? Did you fuck things up for everyone involved? Do you constantly think of men highly even though they don’t give a fuck about you? Minho has just admitted to that, yet here you are, caring about him. “I care about you a lot and I appreciate your opinions. Thanks for letting me know how you feel, but I don’t think you have my best interest at heart right now. I’m sorry. Can you please go to your room?”

“I—” Minho takes a step towards you, reaching out to touch you, but you pull away. You don’t want his touch now. If he hugs you, you’ll break down and you really don’t want him to witness that. You’ve cried in front of Minho more than you’ve cried in front of anyone else, even Chris, but you don’t want him to know you’re hurt now, for some reason. He’s smart, he might connect the dots even if he’s drunk and angry. “I am sorry.”

“I know, it’s fine,” you say, brushing it all off. “I promise.”

You can’t hate the man even if you try. No matter what Minho tells you, you’ll forgive him eventually. Despite everything, he’s still the guy you were crazy about back then, the guy you told everything to.

“It’s not fine,” your ex counters and reaches out, opening his hand and turning his palm upwards as if he’s asking you to take it. “Pretty…”

You don’t know why but you do it and prove yourself right—Minho’s touch is warm and comforting, as always. In a second, he uses your hand to pull you into his frame, hands finding purchase around your shoulders. His hug feels just as nice as you remember.

“I care about you, so I always have your best interest in mind,” he reminds you, voice so much softer than earlier, not a hint of anger in it. There he goes again, pulling you in, making you think your Minho is still this guy who just wants to fuck you. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want you to be with Chris, but I would never stand in your way. If you both confess and live happily ever after, I’ll be happy for you. Trust me. I just don’t think you’d be happy.”

Instead of saying something, you fight the tears but fail. Some of them end up on Minho's chest, having soaked through his shirt, and he pulls you into his frame tighter, humming gently. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry, pretty.”

You want him to stay here with you, you want him to never have to leave, but you know it’s not real, none of it is. Minho has just spelled it out for you—he cares about you as a friend, he regrets fucking you, and he can separate sex from feelings. That’s what hurts you the most. “Can you please leave?” you ask with a sniffle, not wanting him to witness a complete breakdown.

“I— Sure,” Minho says, instantly letting go of you, even though your head stays on his chest. “I’m sorry, I got upset over, over you saying you didn’t care about me and not being able to fuck someone else and you standing up for Chris when he—” Minho sighs before scoffing. “I know you don’t want to talk about this. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You deserve to be happy, pretty.”

With that, Minho kisses the top of your head a time or two before pulling away and leaving your room, just like you asked him to.

“Do you think Minho and I work well together?” you ask as soon as the person on the other side picks up, hoping they will respond and not go off on you.

It’s the middle of the night where you are, and for the past couple of hours, you’ve been crying on the balcony, raiding your minibar, and wondering what the fuck you are doing with your life.

“You woke me up at 6 am to ask this?” Jisung wonders but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Must be important then. I… I used to think it. I just thought he deserves someone who’ll be as nice to him as he was to you if I’m honest.”

“But other than that?” you ask, hiccuping right after. You shouldn’t have mixed your liquors, clearly. “Personality-wise? Feelings-wise?”

“If I ignore the way you acted whenever you two argued and how much that hurt him… As much as it pains me to say this, I think you worked well together. You’re similar enough to work but different enough not to get bored of each other,” Minho’s best friend says, indulging this crazy whim of yours.

“I think so too,” you admit for the first time out loud. It’s funny how you’re saying it to the person that’s completely disconnected from the whole thing. “I’m really the worst person ever. Is that something you wanted to hear? I am, truly. Minho was always so out of my league that it was almost painful. And he’s such a good guy, too. Well… No, he is. I have it all coming.”

“Clearly, you’re drunk,” Jisung sighs, “and you don’t mean any of this. Maybe you should get some water, take a shower, and go to bed. Wait, why did you call me about this?”

“Because you’re the only person who I can trust to be honest when it comes to him,” you explain, hoping your reasoning makes sense. “Chris would tell me what I want to hear, Minho would say something that wouldn’t hurt me, and you… You’re not like that.”

“Hm… I mean, you’re not wrong. Is Minho with you?”

“No, he’s in his room, and he hates me,” you confess, feeling a pang in your chest as you say the words, remembering how sad you’ve made him tonight. Disappointed, let down, sad, miserable—all because of you. “He probably doesn’t, but he should, I think.”

“What did you do?” Jisung asks, suddenly sounding a lot colder than earlier.

“I… I am just an idiot. You’re right. I am mean to him. I didn’t think about his feelings at all. If I had some lingering feelings for Chris, Minho could have some for me. But he doesn’t,” you admit, feeling even worse than before. “You were right, Jisung. I am selfish. He even went into the pool with me.”

Jisung cries out in surprise, forgetting that he’s supposed to act cold towards you. “What? I haven’t seen him in a pool in literal years.”

“He shouldn’t be doing that for me,” you say and start crying. Jisung waits for you to calm down, but the tears seem to be never-ending. “I… We slept together, before this trip. And yesterday.”

“Wha—” He interrupts himself by groaning loudly, giving off his disappointment. “I knew it! What a fucking mess. So what now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, sniffling, knowing you sound really dumb and drunk and annoying, which is exactly how you feel. “I fucked everything up. Minho deserves the absolute best. You were right about that too, he treated me perfectly. But you were wrong about one thing—when we were together, I really didn’t care about Chris or anyone else. It was only Minho for me. I loved him a lot. I know I didn’t show it at all, clearly, but I did love him and the breakup hurt me. I still compare people to him, for fuck’s sake!” you exclaim angrily, realizing that it’s the absolute truth—doesn’t every guy get compared to the best boyfriend you’ve ever had? “Don’t ever tell him I told you that.”

“I’ll think about it, it sounds like good blackmail material,” Jisung jokes. “Listen, you’re not a bad person. I took it too far. Now’s not the time to go down this rabbit hole of self-loathing, especially since you’re drunk and attending a wedding of a guy you used to like. So get some rest. Stop thinking about it now, and talk to him sober, okay? You know Minho gets things. He’s not angry with you, I’m sure.”

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

#the best argument scene ever written??#the flow is so good and minho’s character shines through so well #and when he hugs her at the end??? 🥺🥺🥺#truly a softie at heart

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allyreads · 2 years

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HUNTER ‖ JJK

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what are we waiting for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#sosososososo good #absolutely in love with this dynamic #the dialogue was ON POINT too

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allyreads · 2 years

Text

Pas De Trois

You decide to give your boyfriend Hoseok something he really wants—the chance to watch you get fucked by another guy. And what better place than House of Lust?

⤑ wc: 9.1k ⤑ pairing: jungkook x reader x hoseok ⤑ genre: non-idol!au, established relationship au, escort! au, smut ⤑ warnings: explicit sexual content, cuckolding, unprotected sex, masturbation (m.), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming (m. receiving), lots of dirty talk (use of words like 'slut', 'whore'), degradation, slight cum play ⤑ read on AO3 ⤑ this work is a part of the 'house of lust' collab, find the masterlist here!

Hoseok is everything you’ve ever wanted. He came into your life unexpectedly at a time when you weren’t even trying to find someone to date and managed to turn it all around. Hoseok made you want to get to know him better, and you realized you wanted to have him all for yourself and build a life with him, which scared you a bit. Through this realization that you actually were a relationship person, that maybe you were capable of having peace with someone else, you got to know yourself better too.

He opened your eyes to new things, new experiences, new feelings, and brought energy into your life, a radiance you’ve never felt before, which is why you want to be with him forever, make him happy, and create the perfect conditions for him to stay while not sacrificing your own comfort or happiness. It worked perfectly, and it still does.

Since Hoseok has slowly cemented his place as your favorite person, someone who’s been with you through thick and thin, someone you can’t imagine yourself without, you would do anything for him. That’s why you’re now watching a young, tattooed man you know as Jungkook getting naked in front of you, taking his features in slowly.

This is what Hoseok wants, it’s his wildest fantasy, deepest desire. A man who always has everything under control—including you—wants to see you be someone else’s, for his eyes only. It’s not a need you understand completely, but you don’t have to understand something to accept it.

Hoseok has told you about this wish of his quite a while ago and, at that point in time, you weren’t even remotely ready to delve into something like that. But, it’s been years since then, and fulfilling this desire seemed like a perfect gift, something that shows your love and devotion. If he doesn’t mind, why should you?

Since Hoseok is always so put together, neat, tidy—pristine, even—you chose someone who looked and seemed to be the exact opposite of your polished boyfriend.

Hoseok’s daily attire, suit pants and button-up, were in sharp contrast with the hunky man’s loose-fitting white t-shirt, pierced eyebrow, lip, and ears, and tattooed arms, which is what first caught your eye when House of Lust’s manager, Jimin, offered you a look into their services. The establishment was famous for its top-quality service and complete confidentiality. What happened in House of Lust stayed there, and you were sure Hoseok wouldn’t want anyone finding out about this kink of his.

Even though you know people who’ve used the services there, you don’t know the details, and you haven’t really asked. Jimin explained everything they had to offer, and you couldn’t even take in half of it: in-person service, calls, chatting, video call services, gloryholes, one-on-one, or group meetings… You name it, House of Lust offers it—and they do it well. Every single man you’ve seen at that place reeked of confidence and a promise of a good time.

Jimin, the manager, pointed out a couple of possible people for the job you’d described, and the man who’s currently naked in front of you is the one that caught your eye in an instant. The candidate’s hair was almost curly, falling over his eyes in messy strands as he cocked his head to the side and smirked shamelessly, and you instantly knew he was the one for the job. The smirk told you the man would be a lot of fun.

When you first contacted Jimin for a meeting, you did feel embarrassed. After all, your request was strange, some would even say perverted. You don’t even know how you got the words out with a straight face, but his reaction reassured you instantly. Jimin asked you more questions about Hoseok and this wish of his and then proceeded to offer a couple of his best men for the role, not making a big deal out of it.

“It’s important that there’s some kind of attraction between you and the man if you want to do this right,” Jimin explained with a smirk, sounding very reassuring and like he knew exactly what he was doing. His tone of voice and demeanor told you he was experienced in this industry, and for a second, you wondered if Jimin himself would be up for the job. “Based on what you told me, your boyfriend wants to see you enjoy it. He wants to be in the room, but not be a part of it. Get off while you’re enjoying yourself with another man. He doesn’t want to touch the other person or have them touch him—it’s all about possession, right? He wants you to demean him by sleeping with someone else and loving it, and then he wants to show you whom you belong to.”

That’s exactly what your boyfriend wished for, and also the reason behind you choosing Jeon Jungkook, the curly-haired man Jimin introduced you to as a potential candidate. As soon as you shook his hand, you knew he’d be perfect for the role—the exact opposite of your boyfriend.

And you were right, you think to yourself ten minutes into the night as you watch Hoseok gawk at you with his mouth open, clearly loving the way Jungkook’s talking to you, about you. The truth is, you’re turned on too, a lot more than you thought you would be by this.

When you decided to go to House of Lust for the first time, you saw it as a present for Hoseok, a sacrifice you were making for him, something you’re putting yourself through for the man of your dreams. However, now that Jungkook’s hands are on you, it doesn’t seem like a sacrifice at all. The man is attractive, clearly, and there’s an aura of confidence around him that just has you staring at his face, unable to peel your eyes from his figure.

Your boyfriend is seated on a sofa in the corner, watching your every move, enjoying the way Jungkook’s touching you as you two kiss at the foot of the bed, to Hoseok’s right, both naked. Before tonight, you’ve had a chat with Jungkook to discuss all the details (as per House of Lust’s rules), so you knew kissing would be on the table. But, this is his job, so you thought kissing wouldn’t be as good as it usually is nor as passionate.

Jungkook seems to be great at what he does because he kisses you like he means it—slowly at first, taking his time to get you to relax before his tongue finds its way into your mouth. When that happens, things take a turn for the worse in the best sense of the word. You moan almost instantly as his body presses into yours, allowing you to feel just how firm it is. The man’s hand is wrapped around your waist, the other one is keeping your chin in place while Jungkook kisses you, tongue exploring your mouth.

The kiss is wet and loud, sloppy, the opposite of the energetic kisses you get from your boyfriend, who usually bites you when he kisses you, teases you by moving away, making you chase after him. Hoseok always wants you needy, he wants to drive you crazy, to the point of begging. Jungkook does none of that—he’s letting you have it all right away, and that has its charms, you have to admit. While you’re making out like horny teenagers, his hands grab your asscheeks, squeeze them, grope them, knead them like he’s never touched anyone before, like he’s trying to explore your body and remember it.

It gets you wet, this need of his to run his hands down your ass, between your legs, and then drag them back up, repeating the movement rhythmically, slowly, each time getting closer to your pussy. Just when you think Jungkook is going to touch it, he pulls his hands up your ass, nails dragging across your skin. They quickly go back, making their way down between your legs, touching all around, repeating the motion over and over again until he finally dips his fingers into your pussy from behind. This motion makes you moan into his mouth, back arching instinctively, giving him better access to your sopping core.

“Wet already?” the man chuckles into the kiss and eases two fingers into you fully while moving his other hand to your front. The second it touches your clit, you grunt, your entire body shuddering at the intensity of his touch now that he’s finally got you where he wants you.

With a smirk, Jungkook turns to face your boyfriend, taunting him with a cocky tone, “You’re really not fucking her right. A man gives her a kiss here, a touch there, and she’s already dripping. Work on that.”

Hoseok hisses at Jungkook’s words but doesn’t say a single thing, as agreed. He’s just there to watch and admire, enjoy the way you’re giving yourself to this stranger, like getting demeaned like that. Of course, you’ve established the word that will make it all stop. Either one of you three says it, and you’re stopping. But, somehow, you already know nobody will use it today.

When you get used to Jungkook’s touch, you sneak a glance at Hoseok just to find him palming himself over his trousers, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, a feral look on his face. Your gaze falls to the tent in his pants that tells you just how much he’s enjoying the scene. Oh, you’re getting yours once this little show with Jungkook is over, your boyfriend will make sure of that.

“Are you always this fucking needy?” Jungkook chuckles and moves away from your mouth just so he can attach his lips to your neck and attack, sucking the skin into his mouth to get you to whine even more as his fingers start pistoning into you. Fuck. It’s your favorite thing, having someone go so hard and fast on you that you can’t take a proper breath, let alone talk back.

He knows it too, you can tell by the low chuckle against your skin and the way Jungkook continues rubbing your clit in circles. “Damn, you really need a good fuck. So fucking desperate, eating my fingers up… What a needy cunt you have and no one to pound it hard… Shame.”

His fingers hit that spot inside of you just right, with a lot of precision and so fast you’re already clenching around him. Jungkook catches you at your weakest, completely unprepared for it, and you come around his fingers loudly, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as an intense, short orgasm rips through you. You’re not sure where it came from or how he managed to get you to release that quickly, but you aren’t going to question it.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” you whine and dig your fingers into Jungkook’s biceps, completely taken aback by your body’s reaction, thankful you can hold onto him. “Fuck, fuck, Jungko—fuck!”

Your gaze meets your boyfriend’s as that happens, and Hoseok seems just as surprised. After all, he’s the guy who can make you come the fastest, he’s the one who knows every nook and cranny of your body, every curve and dip, every inch of your tight cunt—and yet this total stranger cracked the code by just shoving his fingers into you at an admirable pace.

Jungkook kicks his head back and laughs, getting cocky with the fact that he’s already cracked you. “That easy? I don’t even have to try tonight. You’ll thank me for just putting it in.”

He sounds full of himself and that just makes your knees shake. If he does this without trying, you can’t even imagine what he’ll do to you later if he decides to put real effort into it. Jungkook’s hand eases out of your cunt gently, and then he moves it up to your face.

“Open,” he gives a simple order that you immediately follow, and his fingers are laid flat on your tongue. “Suck.”

You proceed to suck your own juices off Jungkook’s fingers, moaning against them because his other hand is still teasing your clit, giving it a rub, and then stopping when you flinch, too sensitive for that type of touch right away. You don’t mind tasting yourself—Hoseok loves it when you suck him off after he fucks you, he gets off on knowing he’s making you taste yourself on him as you lick and suck, before you taste his cum too.

“Good fucking girl,” Jungkook hums after the compliment, giving your pussy a loud smack, one that makes you clench all your muscles. “At least he taught you one thing right.”

Your walls contract around nothing at Jungkook’s words, still not believing Hoseok is letting someone talk to him or about him that way. He’s right there in the room with you, but he’s just lounging around, stroking himself over his pants while he enjoys the show. If you ever told him anything similar to what Jungkook was saying, your boyfriend would fuck you into tomorrow, not letting you catch a break just to show you he fucks you best, just to shut your mouth up. Yet, here he is, letting Jungkook get away with it all.

“Fuck,” is all that leaves your mouth as Jungkook’s hand moves down from your mouth to pinch one and then the other nipple, getting you to shiver.

“Let’s do this right, huh?” the stranger cocks his head to the side with a grin and lets go of you. The sudden loss of the warmth of his body around you and his hands on you makes you wince, but not for long. Jungkook plops down on the bed on his back, positioning himself against the cushions in a way that lets him sit back and relax.

Then, he intertwines his fingers and moves them behind his head, knees spread wide, cock hard for you. The sight is more than arousing, you have to admit that much. Jungkook’s perfect from head to toe—chiseled, clean, smooth, tattooed, muscles defined, everything so big, giving you the biggest urge to grab him all over.“Come.”

You don’t have to be told twice, not when you’re doing it all for Hoseok, who’s watching you from the side like you’re his prey, eyes narrowed as he inspects your every movement. You can’t help but wonder what’s going through that pretty head of his, what kind of dirty thoughts are rummaging through it, but you won’t know—not yet, at least. You get on the bed and crawl up Jungkook’s body until your hips are positioned right above his, both of you naked and ready.

“Sit on it,” he instructs but tsks at you as soon as you reach for his cock to position it at your entrance. “Nu-uh… Like this.”

With a silent nod, you gulp and position yourself on Jungkook’s dick, which is still lying across his stomach, hard and ready for you. You can feel it between your labia, getting coated with your juices, pulsating with desire. It’s arousing, sitting on another man, his thick dick between your legs, but not in you, his eyes piercing through you while your boyfriend watches from the sidelines and enjoys your every move.

“Now, move,” Jungkook orders with a grin, fingers still intertwined behind his head as he watches you sit on his cock. Since he’s propped up on some pillows, he has a great view of both you and Hoseok, which is exactly what he needs for this game to continue. Right now, Jungkook doesn’t need you and Hoseok to make eye contact—he needs to be the one who looks at your boyfriend while he orders you around. “That’s right, I want your cunt to wet all of it…”

His words spark a fire inside of you, so you drag your slit across his length until your clit rubs against the very tip and you whine, moving your hips back down. You repeat that same movement a couple of times, adjusting to the feeling—it’s not exactly something you do with Hoseok. Is that what Jungkook’s going for, getting you to do something new while your boyfriend watches, getting to break you in? It makes sense, if that’s his goal. Isn’t that the ultimate desecration, getting to have what your boyfriend doesn’t, right in front of his eyes?

“Mhm,” Jungkook hums in approval as you continue to move up and down his cock, drooling all over it. You can’t help but notice that his eyes are fixated on your body, taking every inch of it slowly. “Just like that.”

Then, you realize you’re not providing enough friction for either of you, so you place both hands on Jungkook’s chest and start moving your hips like you’re riding him. Well, you are, but not in the usual sense of the word, with a dick in you.

Still, having your clit rub against his hard cock while you move up and down his length feels amazing, and the hiss Jungkook lets out tell you it’s making him feel good too. “Oh, someone’s getting needy,” he recovers by throwing the ball in your court and making you seem desperate, which you kind of are.

You can’t see Hoseok, but you can hear him breathing and you can feel his strong presence, the scent of his cologne reminding you he’s there even though he’s out of your field of view. The thought comforts you, but also makes you remember you’re here because of him, which means you should be doing everything you can to live out his fantasy, which is to see you fuck another man and enjoy it, act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tired.

So, without giving it a second thought, you lean in even further and start dragging your wet slit across Jungkook’s cock even faster, making loud sounds this time, moaning, grunting, whining—anything you can do to get Hoseok excited.

“Want to feel it, huh?” Jungkook kicks his head back even more, letting it sink into the propped-up pillows, shooting a glance at Hoseok. “Your girl is so fucking needy for some good cock… It’s embarrassing, really. She just needs a real man to give it to her right. She got me all wet with her pussy and I barely touched her.”

You don’t say a word to that because it is true. This entire situation is such a turn-on for you, and your pussy is dripping at this point. Jungkook is a gorgeous man from head to toe and his charisma really does wonder for him too, but the man you really want is on that chair with his eyes glued to you sliding across another man’s dick, and he loves it—that’s what got you this wet.

“And you,” Jungkook’s attention is suddenly turned to you now, which makes you look into his eyes instead of the tip of his cock that’s peeking between your legs, “ride it for real now. Let me see what he taught you.”

You don’t need to be told twice, not when he’s asking in a way that has your pussy clenching around nothing. Your fingers wrap around the thick cock and hold it upright while you lift yourself up and position it at your entrance. Slowly, you sink onto Jungkook’s cock, the stretch causing your eyes to roll back and a grunt to leave your mouth. Jungkook moans too, and you can swear you hear some sort of a sound coming from your boyfriend. Sadly, you can’t see him, but you hope he’s enjoying all of it.

The second you get adjusted to the delicious feeling of having an unfamiliar cock inside of you—thick and veiny, heavy even—you start rolling your hips into him, allowing Jungkook to feel your walls move around him with every slow movement.

“Ah, that’s right,” he shifts slightly, hands still behind his head, thighs spread like he’s here to enjoy the sight of you riding his cock, which, technically, he is. “Ride it just like that… Show him how much you like fucking someone else. Maybe he’ll start to put in some effort to please you if he hears you scream for another guy’s cock.”

You grunt at Jungkook’s words, feeling dirty because of them, but in a way that doesn’t feel… bad. The fact that you can hear Hoseok fumbling with his zipper and clothes calms you down and reassures you—your boyfriend is enjoying this, too.

“Is that all you can do?” Jungkook’s tone is derisive as a playful smirk drags across his lips, but you’re not offended. No, it’s a challenge now, and you want nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off this man’s face.

So, you start riding him for real, the way you ride Hoseok, hips bucking into him hard and fast, pussy swallowing his cock whole, coating it with your juices, hands gripping the sheets next to his sides for support. You keep doing it for as long as you can, your body feeling like it’s on fire because of the sheer size of Jungkook’s cock, paired with how hard it feels inside of you, rubbing against your walls with every quick push of your hips forward.

“Mhmm,” he moans sweetly, and you’re happy that he’s finally reacting in some way other than being smug. “You take cock like a real slut.”

“Yes,” you agree with a moan, and Hoseok grunts behind you, so you throw him a look over your shoulder and find him with his mouth open and his pretty hand wrapped around his cock, jerking it slowly. “I always take his cock well.”

“I bet you do,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle, but he still looks cocky about the whole thing. “He loves watching you take it, too. Gets all hard seeing you act like a slut for other men.”

The more you move, the more Jungkook’s expression changes from confident to excited, and you love seeing it. You can also hear Hoseok spitting, which means he’s probably getting his hand wet so he can feel even more, and that motivates you to change your pace. Instead of rolling back and forth, you use your knees to lift your hips and smack them back down on Jungkook, which he seems to like, judging by the way his body cramps when you do it.

He’s looking at Hoseok over your shoulder, smirking before looking back at you, finally unclasping his hands and moving them to your front just to pinch both your nipples at the same time, earning a loud whine from you.

“You look so fucking good riding cock,” he decides to inform you softly, rubbing your nipples between his fingertips. “Such a good slut for your boyfriend, huh?” With that, he smacks both your breasts, hard enough for you to let out a loud moan, wanting more. “Let him do whatever he wants? And now you’re getting to do what you want.”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, even though that isn’t true, and you both know it—you’re doing this for Hoseok, and for Hoseok only. The fact that you’re enjoying it is just a happy coincidence. “Fucking you for him.”

“That’s because he can’t fuck you right,” Jungkook chuckles as he tells you, his hands flying to your ass cheeks so he can grab them while you continue to slam your hips into his from above, allowing him to enter you all the way time and time again, filling you completely. You’ll be so fucking sore tomorrow, you can already tell, but it’s worth it. “Which is why he’s letting me ruin you with my dick. Wants to watch how a real man fucks you and makes you come…”

Hoseok hums to this, to your surprise, and Jungkook just smirks at you. “See? He likes sharing his little cockslut with other men… Knows he can’t give it to you right and we can. So, whenever you feel like you want a man to satisfy you, call me. You know where to find me.”

You’re never going to call Jungkook again, not unless Hoseok insists, but the thought of it makes you go feral, so you start fucking him so hard the entire bed moves. Your hands grab his shoulders so you can use his body for support as you move your hips fast, and his chuckle dies in his throat as soon as you start. A minute in, he’s chuckling lightly in between moans, his curls starting to stick to the sweat on the sides of his face, making him look almost angelic.

“What a needy slut! Look at you riding my dick like it’s the only one you’ve had,” he grunts, hands still on your ass, smacking both cheeks harshly. “Is that all your pussy can do?”

“No,” you hiss at him, angry that he doesn’t think it’s enough when you’re already losing it, feeling sweaty and fucked out, your pussy wet, contracting around him, walls luring him in. Despite all of that, you start jumping up and down even faster, kicking your head back as you ride Jungkook, moaning his name over and over again.

It’s Hoseok’s name you want to moan, of course, but it’s not a part of what tonight’s all about. You can’t show you want your boyfriend— you should be acting like all you want is the man under you, this perfect male specimen who got you to come around his fingers in less than a minute, this dude with a thick and hard cock that can seemingly go for hours without tiring.

“Looks like I’ll have to do it all by myself,” Jungkook chuckles and his hand flies to your throat, fingers expertly wrapping around it and lightly squeezing. “But that’s what I’m here for, right? Ruin that tight cunt.”

“Fuck yes,” you nod at his words, and he pulls you in until you’re lying on top of him, your mouth next to his.

Jungkook kisses you, and it’s once again sloppy and wet, needy even, as his tongue pushes inside your mouth and circles your own. His hands fly down to your ass, holding it as his hips move up, away from the bed, feet pushing into the mattress. “Your girl really needs some good dick in her life… She’d talk back less if you fucked her brains out every once in a while.”

God, Jungkook doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about—he’s never seen Hoseok in his full power, making you kneel naked, hands tied behind your back, unable to touch him until you beg and cry for his cock. You’re sure even Jungkook would enjoy the sight of your boyfriend fucking your throat. After all, he’s trained you so hard for it that you can now take dick so well.

Jungkook’s also never seen how determined Hoseok can get when he wants to ruin you, how precisely he can hit that spot and rub your clit, getting you to squirt all over him until you start getting dizzy. If he knew about any of that, Jungkook wouldn’t ever say anything along those lines, but he doesn't. He's just here for the night, to fulfill this fantasy.

“Now you’ll see what a real good fuck it,” he chuckles in a way that sends shivers down your spine. With that, Jungkook starts pumping himself into you from below, each thrust allowing him to enter you even more, fully, filling you up completely. All you can do at that point is cry out his name and hold onto him, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

Your body relaxes, making it easier for Jungkook to manhandle you, pull you in closer while his hips continue to snap up at you, going faster and faster until you can’t think straight or say a single word. All that’s leaving your mouth are cries—hey can’t even be called moans anymore. They’re incoherent sobs, your voice straining as pleasure threatens to burst from the pit of your stomach again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble into his neck, feeling the tip of his cock sending you over the edge again. As your orgasm rushes through you, making your entire body clench, you cry out, fingers digging into his skin. Jungkook doesn’t slow down. Instead, he keeps pumping himself into you, clearly enjoying the way your walls close in on him.

His movements just make you moan louder, and your boyfriend’s name slips out of your mouth—body overflowing with desire to feel him, make him happy—and this little slip-up makes Jungkook slow his movements down and chuckle. “Don’t forget what you’re here for,” he whispers softly, reminding you that you shouldn’t be calling for Hobi now. He is right, that’s not a part of your boyfriend’s fantasy.

“Damn, she’s easy to satisfy,” he sounds a lot more confident when he talks to Hoseok over your shoulder. “You just have to go fast and she’s coming like crazy… Guess she really needed a good dicking down.”

Hoseok hisses but doesn’t say anything, keen on letting it all play out without his interference. But, you can hear his hand moving around his cock, not too fast, but just enough to give him some friction, to ease some of the tension that must have built up by now. When you finally open your eyes and take a deep breath, you sneak a glance over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend and are more than surprised to see that he has already come—all over himself.

Seeing his pants and fist covered with cum as he keeps fisting himself does something to you, something you can’t really explain, so you sit up again and start rolling your hips into Jungkook without a warning, eyes digging into Hoseok’s over your shoulder. Knowing that he was able to come just seeing you have sex with someone awakes a new wave of arousal in you, and you decide to let it all go.

“Can’t get enough?” Jungkook chuckles, smacking your tit lightly before sitting up and taking it in his mouth, suckling it, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin. Suddenly, you’re in his arms, heels pushing into the mattress next to his ass so you can move your hips and cause friction between you two as Jungkook plays with your tits.

“He loves it too much,” you admit, still looking at your boyfriend. He’s so fucking hard and horny, you can see it from all the way over there on the bed. Hoseok came, but he’s still touching himself to the sight of another man’s cock in you. “He can’t get enough of it… Loves watching you fuck me and use me as you please while he can just sit there and take it.”

What was the thing that threw Hoseok over the edge? Was it seeing you come because of another man’s cock? Was it Jungkook’s demeaning words and the way he spoke to your boyfriend? Whatever it was, it made Hoseok feel that good, and you are grateful. That’s exactly why you wanted to come to House of Lust and give him this experience.

So, your hands fly to the younger man’s neck, wrapping around it, thumbs lifting his jaw up so you could kiss him. This time, you’re taking the lead with the kiss and it’s once again wet and sloppy, all you can feel is tongues playing with one another, accompanied by loud moans. “Yeah, ride my dick like that,” Jungkook grunts into the kiss, hands moving down to grope your ass. “Be a good slut for me and take all of it, just like that… Show him how you ride a dick when it fills you up just right.”

His legs are now spread and hands are keeping your cheeks spread too, so Hoseok can get a good look at your cunt getting stuffed with another man’s big cock. It’s a wet mess down there, you feel it, you just know your juices are dripping down Jungkook’s balls, making a mess out of him and the sheets below. But, you don’t mind it, not at all. Quite the opposite, you’re hoping Hoseok can see your excitement.

“What a good fucking slut,” Jungkook mumbles as his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your ass. “You really want me to fill you up real good.”

“Fuck yes, give it to me,” you moan in return, starting to use your knees to move up and down his thick cock, loving the way your contact with Jungkook is setting your skin on fire, or so it feels like. You’re hot and sweaty, skin damp, especially where it’s touching his, but it just turns you on more. “Stuff me full of cum, Jungkook, let him see it.”

“Dirty,” Jungkook chuckles at the idea and smacks your asscheek hard, so hard you grunt and speed up. “Such a nasty slut too, huh?” With that, he looks at your boyfriend over your shoulder. “Wants other men’s cum… Bet you’re going to save it for him, let him fuck you and see that another man’s used your cunt like a fleshlight, just in and out fast until he came, huh?”

God, the mouth on Jungkook is astonishingly dirty, and you’re enjoying every second of it. The best part of it all is that it seems he is enjoying it too. The biggest fear you’ve had here is that the third party would seem completely uninterested, that it would all seem fake, that Hoseok wouldn’t be able to get into it, but you’ve chosen the perfect man for the occasion.

“Yeah, I want him to feel it in me,” you admit and play along. You did want that, mostly because you know it will drive him crazy to feel the remnants of another man’s excitement deep between your walls. “To know you had me before he did.”

“Oh, he’ll know. He’ll feel how stretched you are after riding my cock, trust me,” he chuckles, spanking your ass again. “Let’s show him how nasty you are, huh?”

“Let’s,” you nodded in agreement, wondering which one of the things you agreed to would Jungkook go for. You ticked off at least 15 boxes, but under the agreement that not all of them had to be done tonight. They were just guidelines so Jungkook would know what he can and can’t do with you.

“On your knees,” Jungkook orders you, and you instantly move away from him, letting his hard cock fall out of you and land on his stomach with a loud, wet slap. “No, no, turn your ass to him.”

You do as ordered, kneeling next to the edge of the bed, right in front of Jungkook, while your back is turned to Hoseok who’s sitting so close to you. While you’re getting in position, you notice how hard your boyfriend still is, a white-knuckled grip around his cock stopping him from coming again. If he stands up and takes a step or two, he could slip right into you from behind.

Jungkook scoots to the edge of the bed, placing his feet on the floor, his crotch practically in your face—a sight you find mouthwatering. Tangling his fingers in your hair, he grins and orders, “Now suck.”

Once again, you obey him and wrap your mouth around the tip, letting your tongue wet it, even if it’s already coated with your juices. Then, you start bobbing your head against his length, wanting to take more of his cock in with each move of your head, which makes Jungkook grunt at you.

His head snaps in Hoseok’s direction again as he decides to taunt your boyfriend once more. “You taught your little slut well,” Jungkook chuckles, grabbing your hair and pushing your head into his crotch, which gets you to choke on his cock as it enters your throat without a warning.

Then, Jungkook pulls your head away and pushes it forward again, letting you get used to the feeling of your throat being used as a hole for his cock, nothing more. “Yeah, like that… Take all of it, want to feel your tongue on my balls.”

Your eyes water more and more with every thrust, and soon enough, tears are streaming down your face, but you can take it. This is no news to you—Hoseok fucks your throat regularly, especially when work gets frustrating and he just wants to get off. You’re no stranger to that or any other type of rough play in the bedroom, which clearly amuses Jungkook, “She takes dick so fucking well. Is she like this for you, too? Or does she just like me a lot?”

He’s so cocky you can’t help but moan. You don’t know this man and you’re never going to see him again, but Jungkook knows how to get you going, how to say words that make you act like the slut he refers to you as, how to push Hoseok’s buttons—and it’s working. You can hear your boyfriend jerking off to the scene in front of him, and you wish you could take him in your pussy while you’re sucking Jungkook off. That would be perfect.

“I think you just can’t get enough of my cock,” Jungkook laughs and licks his lips, looking at you with excitement in his eyes. It is a good cock, you have to agree, thick in all the right places, and since it comes in pair with such a filthy mouth on such a handsome guy, it’s a winner. “Take all of it if you can, let me see it.”

You do as asked once again, allowing him into your throat as much as you can, instantly making a gagging sound and pulling away, thick strings of saliva connecting your open mouth with his thick cock. “Look at you drooling for me…” he laughs, eyes sparkling as they meet yours. “Balls. Suck.”

Jungkook’s firm grasp on your hair still controls your movements, but you do the best you can as you flatten your tongue and move it up and down his balls, getting into it. He smells great and he’s smooth all over. On top of that, he’s clearly enjoying the feeling of your tongue on him, so you close your eyes and lick him the same way you do Hoseok, pushing your head in, opening your mouth wide and only moving your flattened tongue while you moan. It drives Hoseok wild and, judging by the way his hips buck into your face, the way you’re going down on him has the same effect on Jungkook.

“Such a good slut for me,” he compliments you which sparks something in you—you start moving your head up and down, side to side, in circles, as Jungkook just pushes you towards him more, clearly loving the amount of pressure your tongue gives his balls.

Then, you suck one into your mouth, roll your tongue around it, and release, making sure it enters your mouth fully before you push it out and quickly suck the other one in and give it the same treatment. “Ah… Your girlfriend’s fucking great with her tongue. So hungry for it even though she already came twice… Can’t get enough of a good dick, huh?”

You hum and nod before releasing his balls and licking the underside all the way to the tip. You take it into your mouth fully and move away, slowly licking your way down to his balls again. His thighs are clenching, so you grab them, fingers sinking into them instantly, which makes him buck his hips into your face again. “See? Can’t get fucking enough of it,” he chuckles and shoots a glance at Hoseok, but quickly returns his focus to you. “Desperate to please, hm? Anything to get some cock.”

Jungkook seems to be very composed. If it’s just a front he puts on since he’s at work, it’s a good one, but you’re cracking through it slowly—his brows are furrowed, teeth digging into his bottom lip as sweat forms along his forehead and the sides of his face, slow grunts encouraging you to go on. When you switch to the other ball, his grip on you tightens and he seems entranced by the way you play with him.

“More,” he tells you, so you try to get both balls to fit inside your mouth. When they finally do, you run your tongue across them, making Jungkook moan and buck his hips into you. “He’s watching you closely,” Jungkook informs you, eyes now fixated on your boyfriend. “Maybe he’s wondering where’s all this energy when you’re fucking him. You’ll have a lot of explaining to do later.”

You hear Hoseok hiss from behind you, which gets you to start sucking harder, legs spreading even more so your boyfriend can see how wet you’re getting with each dirty word that leaves Jungkook’s mouth. After a while, he grows tired of it and pulls your head away from his crotch. “Now, lick,” he smirks and places both feet on the bed, head pulled in by his strong wrist as your tongue finds his hole.

You have agreed to this beforehand when explaining to Jimin everything that you found appropriate for this session. He gave you the rundown of things and the preparations that go into it, stressing the fact that everyone is clean, neat, and tidy before every session, and that all guests need to get tested for STDs too. You have an IUD, too, which is why no protection is used here tonight. All these requirements just made you believe you’ve made the right choice when selecting House of Lust—there was little risk and a lot of rewards.

Jungkook groans when your tongue meets and circles his tight rim. You’re not gentle at all since he’s clearly into it and wants more, and that’s exactly what you’re there for. At first, you tongue the rim with your very tip, applying some pressure, just enough for Jungkook to feel it, to want more. “Fuck, baby, right there…”

Then, you flatten your tongue and press it against his hole, licking up and down fervently, which gets him to buck his hips into you, his big cock twitching on his stomach. When your tongue starts poking his hole, Jungkook finally lets out a moan—a real one, the type that makes you shiver, wanting to hear more.

“God, your slut’s really great with that tongue,” Jungkook tells Hoseok. The fact that your boyfriend is watching you do something so nasty, something you’ve only ever done with him, makes you get even more excited about the whole thing. You’re sure your pussy is glistening with juices, a nice sight for your boyfriend. “So thankful someone finally fucked her right.”

Hoseok grunts and you can only imagine the look on his face. Sadly, you can’t see him, not when your mouth’s around Jungkook’s rim, teasing it, licking, sucking, but you’re sure he’s fixated on your pussy as you shake your hips for him while going to town on this stranger.

As evidenced by his hums and moans and the way his body clenches and releases, Jungkook enjoys your tongue for a while, letting you please him for a couple of minutes before he pulls you away again.

“Think it’s time I come, huh?” he asks with a chuckle that makes you get goosebumps, his tone suddenly turning so low. “Be a good girl and milk my cum out of me.”

Your hands instantly wrap around his cock, but the action makes Jungkook kick his head back and laugh. “You think I’d make it that easy? No, with your wet cunt. Sit on my lap.”

Jungkook plants his feet firmly on the ground, allowing you to sit on his lap as he leans backward and places one hand behind his back for support. You sink into his chest, facing your boyfriend and spreading your legs so Hoseok can get a good look at you. Finally, you get to see him, and it’s just as hot as you imagined. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, fingers still wrapped around his hard cock, and you get the sudden urge to taste him. Not yet, though, you tell yourself. Just a little bit more and Jungkook’s out of the picture then, and you become Hoseok’s again.

“Now you’ll show your man over there how you ride a dick like a slut,” Jungkook tells you, and you lift your hips up, aligning his cock with your entrance. The very next second, you’re lifting your hips up using your knees, fucking yourself against Jungkook’s hard dick. “Show him how much you enjoy having a nice big cock in you.”

“Fuck!” you moan, feeling him filling you up fully, stretching your walls, even though it slides in so easily, coated with your juices. “Yes, I love it…”

“Mhm, a real fucking slut,” Jungkook grunts, hand grabbing your breast and squeezing it before he gives you a light smack, which is enough to get Hoseok’s undivided attention. “Such a good cunt, too…”

A second ago, his eyes were glued to the place where your body met Jungkook’s, and you’re sure he’s enjoying the way your cunt swallows a big cock. But, the way Jungkook’s treating you is more interesting to your boyfriend right now—he’s pinching and pulling on your nipple as you ride him, grunting loudly as you do so.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck,” you sound desperate when you mutter as you look at your boyfriend, wanting to be with him badly, needing him to come over so you can finally touch and feel him.

“Who’s fucking you good?” Jungkook asks but you don’t answer—you’re too busy moaning to make words come out of your mouth, so he brings his hand down to your clit and smacks it, which earns a hiss from Hoseok. “I asked you something.”

“You, you are,” you say after the initial pain turns into pleasure, after you realize Jungkook can still ruin you if he feels like it.

“And what’s my name?” The question sends shivers down your spine, especially since it’s followed by Jungkook’s mouth on the side of your neck, and incessant rubbing against your clit. HIs tongue feels perfect against your warm skin, wiggling its way under your jaw, sucking on the skin there just enough to make you grunt.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan the word, moving your hips in circles as you stare into Hoseok’s eyes. “You’re fucking me so good.”

“Tell him again, whose cock are you riding?” Jungkook asks as he points at Hoseok before his hand flies back down to your clit. “Tell him who can make you act like such a slut.”

“Yours, Jungkook,” your voice sounds strained, and the words come out like cries as his fingers continue circling your clit, making you ride him faster to get some relief. “You, you…”

“Are you gonna take all my cum now?” he asks but knows you will, as previously discussed.

You hum in agreement, which is all Jungkook needs to release his load inside of you. But, you don’t stop moving as he comes, continuing to ride him, his cock spurting cum into you as your eyes dig into Hoseok’s. You can’t get enough of the way he stares at you in awe, eyes dark with desire, cock leaking precum which creates a wet spot on his pants.

Jungkook’s now grunting loudly as he sinks down into the bed, both hands grabbing your hips to help you ride him until every drop is out. The sounds he’s making turn you on, the low grumble in his throat as he rides out his high, but it’s Hoseok’s expression that ruins you—a look you’ve seen many times before, one that tells you he wants to be inside of you badly. You two have never done anything like this, so you’re not even sure what to expect once Jungkook is out of the equation, once you’re left alone with your boyfriend.

As soon as you feel Jungkook’s body relax under yours, you lift your hips up enough for his cock to fall out, but you cup your crotch and clench hard, trying to hold all of it in for Hoseok. You know he’s going to ravage you now, so you get on all fours at the edge of the bed, pressing your chest into the bed, ass up in the air so Jungkook’s cum stays inside.

It’s the man’s cue to leave, so he nods at you and Hoseok and grabs a towel to cover himself up. With a quick goodbye, Jungkook’s out of the room, and your boyfriend gets up to lock the door behind the man, ensuring no one will interrupt what’s to follow. You have the room for at least another hour, if you want it, as agreed with Jimin.

When the door’s locked, Hoseok walks over to you, lets his pants and underwear fall down his thighs without uttering a single word, and eases his cock into you in one swift motion, one that makes you cry out for him.

“Fuck, baby,” you whine, enjoying the feeling of his dick sliding right in. Jungkook’s cock was different, new, but Hoseok feels so good and familiar, yours, so you can’t help but moan from the second he enters you fully on the first try. “You feel so good!”

“So fucking wet,” he speaks after a couple of thrusts, voice raspy. “Full of someone else’s cum.”

That gets you to grunt and arch your back even more, letting Hoseok do whatever he wants. He pumps harder now as if the mental image of that paired with the feeling around his cock makes him even hornier.

“Did you like it?” you hiss through gritted teeth, wondering just how much Hoseok enjoyed watching you get railed by another guy, get used by the man while he insulted your boyfriend, who just sat there and jerked off. “Liked seeing him fuck me?”

“Seeing you get fucked like a slut?” There’s some playfulness in his chuckle, which is only stressed by the way his hips start snapping into you even faster, cock filling you up fully whenever it enters you. “Fucking loved it.”

“Do you like how Jungkook stretched it all out of you?” You’re crossing the line here, entering dangerous territory, saying something that might actually be taken the wrong way, that might ruin the fun.

However, it does the exact opposite. Hoseok hisses, his fingers wrapping around your hips tighter, and starts going so fast you have to grab a fistful of the sheets to stop your body from yanking forward and away from the cock that’s touching you just right.

“Look how proud you are of letting another man use your pussy and come inside it,” he mutters, his hand flying to your hair so he can pull on it, getting you to arch your back even further. “Acting like a real slut tonight.”

“More, baby, more,” you break character and whine, feeling yourself close again, so close you can already feel the tingling in your lower belly, your toes curling as Hoseok keeps pistoning into you, pushing against your sweet spot over and over again. “Fuck, Hobi, fuck!”

“Insatiable whore,” he chuckles from behind you, but his voice is strained and you just know he’s close to blowing his load inside you. Still, Hoseok is always a gentleman—unless you ask him not to be—and he always makes sure you get what you want before taking care of himself. So, he keeps pulling your hair since he knows it’s your favorite, your scalp prickling with warmth, sending shivers down to your swollen core. “Pussy full of cum and you still want more.”

“Yes, yes, I want it,” you sound fucked out, trying to nod, but his hand stopping you, yanking you by the hair. “Please, more, please…”

“More what?” Hoseok sounds harsh now, but it’s because he’s falling apart too, you just know it. While you were enjoying yourself and coming because of Jungkook, Hoseok was just touching himself quietly, unable to touch or taste you or have you do the same to him. It must have been torture, which is why he’s having a hard time lasting long now—and you kind of like that.

“Make me come… Fill me up,” you whine, your words coming out in the form of weak cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes because of how intensely you’re getting fucked, how raw and swollen your walls are, and how perfectly your boyfriend fits inside, like he was made for it.

Suddenly, Hoseok goes quiet and lets go of your hair, pushing himself even closer to you as his hands fly down to your hips. Then, he unleashes his anger on you, fucking you so hard you completely let go, letting him use you, fuck you so hard you can’t think straight. All you can do is moan over and over again while his cock sends you over the edge, your vision going blank, head and body buzzing, pussy walls fluttering around Hoseok.

“Ah, what a good girl!” he mutters when he feels your clenching. Not long after, he releases too, slowing down his pace as loud, long grunts and sighs leave his mouth, your pussy now full of his cum too. “Fuck…”

“You were great,” you tell Hoseok after a while, once you’ve calmed your breathing enough to speak, ass up in the air, your boyfriend’s cock still lodged inside of you.

“Let’s get out of here, huh?” Hoseok breathes, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder from behind, sweaty bodies pressed into one another. “You did so well for me tonight, so fucking well.”

You hum happily, allowing him to clean you up, even though you’re sure Hoseok would prefer you to keep all that cum inside you so you can continue playing when you get home. If this was any regular day, you would have done it, but you’re completely spent now, still struggling to breathe properly, and you’re already feeling sore, not to mention swollen.

“You took it so well,” he plants a soft kiss on your lower back, followed by another one to your ass cheek while his hand uses the rag to carefully wipe the cum that’s still seeping out of you. “My good girl… Fuck, that was hot.”

“Yes,” you agree, mind rushing to images of Hoseok jerking off on his own, coming all over himself at the sight of you getting fucked. “You are hot.”

When he’s finally done, you move backward until your feet are on the floor, instantly wincing at the feeling between your legs. You’re fucked out, completely, muscles starting to hurt.

“I’ll take care of you tonight,” Hoseok says and wraps his arms around you, letting you rest against his chest for a while. His fingers run through your hair as his mouth plants soft kisses all over the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

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! :)

#some of the best stuff ive read in a while #very nsfw read at ur own risk

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allyreads · 2 years

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series masterpost ♡ wedding season

This wedding season, you're invited to the wedding of the one that got away. You have one chance to win Chris over or watch him be someone else’s forever. Therefore, you need a master plan, which includes your insanely attractive (and mildly annoying) ex-boyfriend that Chris always hated—Lee Minho.

↳ pairing: minho x fem!reader (chan is a side character) ↳ word count: 59.6k ↳ chapters: intro + 8 ↳ genre: smut, angst, non-idol!au, fake dating!au, exes to lovers!au, unrequited love, love triangle, exboyfriend!minho, ex!best friend chan ↳ warnings: smut (warnings will be added to each chapter), the mc is trying to ruin a wedding and she's not that great of a person, pining, longing, all the good stuff; jisung is the bff we all deserve; a lot of angst and unresolved feelings; you’ll like minho and dislike the mc ↳ a/n: this was inspired by My Best Friend's Wedding & Just Go With It (general themes) ↳ masterlist ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3

↳ minors please do not interact with this post or series in any way. if i notice you’re a minor commenting/liking/sharing my writing, i’ll block you. no hard feelings, it’s just not content meant for minors.

↳ chapters: intro ♡ the plan ♡ the trip ♡ the hangout ♡ the unplanned activity ♡ the party ♡ the aftermath ♡ the wedding ♡ the forever after [posting every saturday from July 16th]

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

#so good wtf #absolutely in love with the way u have portrayed minho’s character in this #oh and the depth in the relationship between oc and minho is just crafted with perfection #defo has me hooked #keeping my eyes peeled for the next ones coming up #👀👀👀

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allyreads · 2 years

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[22:36]

contains: finger sucking, grinding

a/n: this is meant for one very specific person

"baby, you have something there"

you turn to see seokmin's eyes fixed on your chin, his hand moving up to touch your face.

ever since you've started dating, you and your boyfriend make it a point to have dinner and dessert together atleast once a week (when it's manageable, anyway). today's dinner was takeout pasta and garlic bread, with butterscotch ice-cream for dessert. the two of you are in the kitchen watching your hands, and apparently you have some ice-cream on your face.

"you're so cute", his finger swipes against your chin before pushing slightly into your mouth, his giggles echoing through the kitchen, "how did you manage to get it there?"

the weight of his fingers in your mouth clouds your mind before you can answer, and you find yourself sucking on his digits, a whimper inadvertently leaving your lips.

"fuck", your hazy eyes catch seokmin licking his lips, "do you like that?"

you whimper around his fingers again, your eyes closing as warmth pools in your cunt.

"i asked you a question, baby", you're pushed against the counter gently, seokmin's thigh coming to press between your legs, "do you like sucking on my fingers?"

your eyes open when he pushes his fingers further, and you nod slightly, moaning around his digits while grinding on his thigh.

"oh, you do", he coos, he presses his thigh harder on your cunt, "what's the matter, baby? can't think with my fingers in your mouth, mm?"

#OKAYYYYYYYYYYY #saying i haven’t thought about this would be lying #and from a young age i was told lying is bad

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allyreads · 2 years

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Quiet, please! | K.MG

pairing: tutor!Mingyu & it girl!reader genre & warnings: smut so minors dni 😁, afab reader, reader's kinda ditzy and gyu's a pathetic loser (lustfully), public sex (it happens in a library naur DSFKSDFK) synopsis: oh no, your nerdy tutor's hot. word count: 1.8k a/n: uhhhhh im in heat. i've had this in the drafts since he posted those damn pictures. i am not free.

Hello hi <3 if you're able to, my ko-fi is open for donations, commissions, and memberships! I'm currently in need of funds to repair my laptop which I need for studying and writing. Any amount is greatly appreciated and will be of tremendous help <3

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

“So, you need to ace two midterms to bring your grade to the goal we set at the beginning of the semester.” Mingyu tells you matter-of-factually, genuinely concerned that you’d forgotten your own goal. He continues speaking, telling you the outline of the unit you’ll be studying while you nod along almost mindlessly. Well, totally mindlessly– but it’s not your fault!

You see, when one of your friends suggested you get a tutor– to which you desperately agreed– you didn’t exactly expect the one you’d get.

Mingyu was all shy, kind smiles and polite, appropriate behavior when he first met you– until now, actually. He still can’t seem to sit so closely next to you without being nervous, nor accidentally touch you by grazing his hand against yours or his thick, meaty thigh against your own without his breath hitching and that adorable pink dusting his cheeks. He also seems to have trouble keeping his eyes off you, specifically how good your chest looks in those cute tops you’re always wearing, but he’s quick to avert his gaze and continue teaching you.

And now...Well now he’s just a blur of pink hearts in your eyes and his voice is just a nice soothing hum in the background while you admire him when you should really be listening to whatever he’s saying beside you. It would be a bold-faced lie to say you didn’t have an inkling of a crush on him. Yeah, sure, he’s a bit nerdy, losery, really– but god, would you look at that face and those arms and that goddamn body? It doesn’t help that he chose to wear a deliciously-fitting black polo shirt and some black jeans today, topped off by those delicate metal-framed glasses framing his beautiful face.

Who the hell could focus on studying with that?

You absolutely cannot, and Mingyu can easily tell. So, in a last ditch effort to maintain his composure (because god, you look so cute with that little smile on your face and your eyes all glazed over), Mingyu clears his throat and scoots closer to you, closer than he’s ever braved. He taps your shoulder twice to get your attention before sighing, “Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

You nod, blinking innocently at him, “Uh-huh, I have to... pass two midterms and all that.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. The action makes you clench your thighs and lick your lips; Mingyu notices this but only shakes his head in frustration. His voice drops, deep and husky and making goosebumps on your skin rise in its wake. “Ace. You have to ace these midterms if you want to even make a dent on your average.”

You remove your cheek from resting on your fist and use that same hand to pat his. You croon, voice sweet as you stroke that large, veiny hand of his, trying your best not to think about what he does and can do with it “I know, gyu, I know. Do you not have faith in me or something? Why are you so tense, baby?”

There he goes again, breath hitching at your touch and the pet name. Now it’s his turn lick his lips, eyeing your own before flitting up to your eyes. You were fucking batting your eyelashes at him and Mingyu felt like he was gonna combust.

“N-nothing, I’d just really hate for all this studying to be for naught.” That makes you giggle. Mingyu isn’t sure why but it does and suddenly his pants are tightening around him. He clears his throat again, fixing his unmoved glasses. He watches you with wide eyes as you lean forward, your low-cut top doing nothing to hide your cleavage, some lace peeking out.

“Eyes up here, babyboy,” You lift his Chin up with a finger, smirking at his flustered state. Your other hand finds his thigh, the thick and firm muscle tensing underneath your touch. Batting your eyelashes at him, your smile turns sweeter. “Do you think I'm pretty, Gyugyu?”

Mingyu blinks up at you; he processes your words rather slowly. He opens his mouth to answer but you’re already pouting by then, puppy-eyes making his chest warm and his heart flutter. As if on instinct, Mingyu’s hand reaches out to get a hold on your waist; Your eyebrows raise at his sudden confidence. “You are-! No, I mean I do! Wait-”

He cuts himself off with a gasp; in his ramble-y haze, he didn’t notice your fingers unbuttoning his pants and unzipping it. His heart hammers against his chest as he watches you palm the growing bulge in his underwear, but a rustle from a few shelves over startles him.

“Y/N, someone will see-!” you shush him with a kiss, and Mingyu has to bite back a moan when you slip your hand into his underwear, hand wrapping around his fully hard cock and using the precum leaking from his tip.

It’s like he’s in a haze, all logic thrown out of the window. His hand travels from your waist to your thigh, sneaking past the hem of your skirt. He squeezes lightly; you respond with a kiss to his jaw, whispering lowly, “it’s okay, baby, Don’t worry.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, muffling yourself against his shirt when he squeezes your thigh once again, firmer and closer to where you needed him most this time. Gyu presses the pads of his fingers against your clothed heat, gasping when wetness seeps through the cotton. “you’re so wet,” he whispers, breath hot on your ear.

Smiling against his neck, you start to pump him faster, loosening your grip when you go up and tightening when you go down. His low whines are music to your ears, but you can’t have him being noisy so you shift yourself and capture his lips with yours.

Mingyu moans into the kiss as you continue pumping him, now emboldened to push your panties to the side and push a finger into your tight heat. He feels your wetness gush out, the palm of his hand getting stickier and warmer. His thumb finds your clit and rubs it as he pumps you, adding a second finger when you start to rut against him. Gyu shifts in his seat; He brings his free hand into the mix, thumb leaving your clit before quickly replacing it with said free hand’s fingers.

You jump at the contact, moaning against his lips when he quickens his pace. Heat pools in your abdomen, toes curling at the stimulation you’re receiving– you know you’re not too far from your orgasm. So you stop, completely pulling away from Mingyu before standing up.

He watches in bewilderment as you swing one leg over his lap, effectively straddling him. His hands find your hips, stopping you from lining up his leaking cock from your entrance. Mingyu nervously looks around. “W-we might get caught, Y/N-”

You react quickly. A pout once again finds your glossy lips and your eyes widen innocently, eyebrows knitting together to top off the look. Your arms circle around his neck and you arch your back, pulling his face until it’s almost mushed against your tits. “Just trust me, Gyuyu. Please? I need you so bad, babyboy.”

Again, all logic is thrown out the window. Mingyu simply cannot deny you, not when you look so cute and your cunt’s literally dripping on his dick– he can feel how wet and warm you are and it’s just fucking with his nerdy, pretty head. When is he ever gonna get laid like this again?

“Do you have a condom then? I’m clean but-” he really wishes you’d stop interrupting him, but he doesn’t complain.

“We don't need one, Gyugyu,” you hum before pecking his lips. “I'm clean and on the pill... and I just really want you to fill me up with your cum already.”

With a nod, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes you down onto him. Mingyu watches as you throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head and your mouth opening as you take all of him. Looking down, he sees how your cunt stretches to accommodate all of him, your tightness hugging him so snugly that he wonders how you’re supposed to bounce on top of him.

His dark jeans turn even darker as it’s soaked up by your juices, but he can’t even think of complaining. Not when you’re pulling him even closer, his face now buried into your cleavage. His glasses pressing against his face would usually be so uncomfortable if his dick wasn’t getting sucked in so good by your walls. You start moving your hips, swiveling and stretching yourself even further– Mingyu feels your chest vibrate with the noises you’re trying to hold in.

You finally start bouncing, and Mingyu understands why you basically trapped his face between your tits. You’re fucking gripping him, soaking him, and just fucking him so good he can already feel his abs contracting as his orgasm builds up. If your tits weren’t muffling him and reminding him to be quiet, he’d be babbling and whining so loudly you’d be caught in no time. Mingyu knows he won’t last long with how fucking good you feel around him.

You can feel him twitching inside you and tensing up underneath you. He has an iron grip on your hip; You Don’t need him to tell you that he’s close. The mere thought of Gyu cumming inside you has you grinning, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the blunt head of his cock nudges at the spot that has your toes curling in bliss. In your haze, you pant out to him. “Touch me, Gyu. F-fuck, please.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing the nub quickly. Mingyu stifles a groan when you clamp down around him. He barely processes as his orgasm washes over him, his cum filling you up with every spurt.

The feeling of his release inside you combined with his frantic rubbing on your clit triggers your own orgasm. Your body stills on top of him but your mind and your mouth, in your haze, ramble on lowly. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Hah, that’s it, cum inside me, Gyu. Fuck me so fucking full of your cum, oh god. So full, ngh, so fucking full...”

Gyu holds you against him as you calm down, slumping your body against his and your head resting on his shoulder, absentmindedly peppering his neck and cheek with kisses. “Gyugyu...” you mumble, head filled with cotton and hearts swimming in your eyes as you look up at his side profile. “Gyugyu, I think you’re pretty too.”

He rubs your back soothingly, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips and the red on his cheeks deepening. “Thank you, Y/N.” he pulls away slightly to look at you, stricken by your afterglow beauty and the way you’re looking at him so fondly. “D’you... Do you think you’d focus better if we studied in your apartment?”

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#oh wow #can kim mingyu tutor me pls

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