practice | jjk
⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader
⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut
⇢ WC: 8.1k
⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink
⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.
⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!
⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST
It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday.
The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.
One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked.
Anything and everyone, except you.
It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.
You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…
Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell.
You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face.
You’re cute, right?
Atleast you tried to look cute.
Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself.
You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.
You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.
You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.
You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay.
You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.
You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you.
The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-
Knock. Knock.
The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake.
Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment.
You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.
Jeon Jungkook.
His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily.
Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”
“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”
“Are you drunk or something?”
“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well.
You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire.
“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?”
You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?”
“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”
Bambi.
That stupid nickname.
You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default.
"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak.
Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you.
"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"
You answered him curtly with a scowl.
"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you.
“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”
“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”
“That’s disgusting,” you scoff.
“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”
You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.
If only you could mute your evil brain.
“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room.
He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it.
“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.
You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though.
“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags.
“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.
“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes.
You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”
“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.
He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch.
Wow.
Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made?
“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.
“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”
“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”
“Well aware.”
“Jihyo?”
“Yep.”
“Nayeon?”
“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”
You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.
But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…
Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night.
You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.
The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful.
He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook.
He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”
“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.
“It helps me stay still. Please?”
“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy.
He purrs and closes his eyes.
He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.
That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.
‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’
‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’
‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’
“Jungkook, shut up!”
“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”
“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”
“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather.
You give him an exasperated look.
“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”
“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.
“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.
“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.”
“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”
“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns.
“About?”
“Anything.”
“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black. What’s your favorite position?”
“Jungkook!”
“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”
You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over.
“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?”
A pause.
“You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”
He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his.
He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.
“What’s so funny, Jeon?”
“Ah, I see now.”
“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness.
“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”
Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.
“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”
Crickets.
Your lack of response tells him the answer.
When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?”
He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.
“I always make the girl cum.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”
His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”
“Jungkook…”
And then he's kissing you.
It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.
All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.
He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.
“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”
You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod.
“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.
Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
He’s been wanting this, too?
“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.
You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking.
“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”
“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture.
Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed.
Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes.
Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.
“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”
“Never…”
“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.”
That had you absolutely drenched.
You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit.
He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.
“Jungkook, please…”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.”
He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.
This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned.
It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.
There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.
He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.
“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”
You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt.
You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.
He doesn’t like that.
He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.”
“I’m sorry,” you squeak.
His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”
It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of.
You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.
You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.
Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”
You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.
His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”
“Like what?”
“Have you ever squirted before?”
You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”
“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.
“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him.
“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”
You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one.
He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm.
You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.
“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”
“Why?”
“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.
Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you.
You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.
“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.
“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”
It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down.
“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.
“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”
“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy.
“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.
Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.
There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.
He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.
“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”
You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.”
Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.
“Please, Jungkook, more…”
“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special.
“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”
You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?
Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip.
You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.
“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.
His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.
“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”
You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.
You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.
There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.
And then nothing.
Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches.
Complete solace.
Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.
There’s a metallic taste on your tongue.
You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.
“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?”
“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”
“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”
“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”
“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.
“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”
He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.
His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.
You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours.
“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”
“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket.
There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”
“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary.
It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.
That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.
You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.
“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.
“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely.
He didn’t have underwear on either.
You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.
You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”
He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.
He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.
He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort.
“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.
“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.
He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”
You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.
“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”
With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”
Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.
Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin.
You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.
“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”
Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.
You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive.
‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant.
“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.
A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.
“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.
His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.
He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.
“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.
You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.
“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”
He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.
You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you.
“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”
He could’ve busted right then and there.
“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.
You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.
Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.
“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.
“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.
He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care.
Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.
His orgasm is stunning.
“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation.
“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp.
“Thank you,” you speak shyly.
“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”
You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before.
“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”
He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”
Special.
You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”
“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”
“Practice round?”
He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.
He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”
Friends.
It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.
All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.
You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.
Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.
He looks so beautiful and peaceful.
You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.
The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.
“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”
You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies.
He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.
Fuck.
What have you gotten yourself into?
© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]
