wait queen did u delete some fics 🥹 i truly hope ure doing well tho i think of u from time to time…
hiii cuties, yes.. I very much did. I’m doing well, but I miss coming in here and writing, uni was kicking my ass and instead of being able to write for here, I was writing five paper essays on chem. I have some small pieces I have written while on my hikes hopefully I can finish them soon and post for you guys to read! 🤍🤍 (me yesterday nd my most recent hikeee)
Ive been following u for a long time and came back now to reread ur works cuz i love it and just noticed ur alex pfp and ur really goated omg idk i just wanted to let u know i love u even more now great writing and f1
summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.
after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst
word count: 7.7k
warnings: swearing, they actually talk about their feelings :0, explicit sexual content (mdni), kissing, making out, hickeys, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (be smarter than them pls), a bit of banter, petnames (baby), they're really fucking cute in the end it makes me sick, let me know if i missed anything!
notes: idk if this counts as my first completed series buttt... i'm gonna act like it does. thank you so so much to all the love and support you guys have given me for the past two parts, i'm genuinely so beyond grateful for it all :<< hopefully, you guys enjoy this part too!!
ps. READ PART ONE HERE & PART TWO HERE!!
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You open his chat window again like it’s muscle memory. Like your thumb doesn’t know how to not betray you.
It’s not even about sending something. You’ve got no intention of doing that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But the screen is always open, staring back at you with that last unread message you sent almost a week ago — a throwaway meme you found on your lunch break. No reply. Not even a reaction.
And it hadn’t felt like a big deal in the moment. You sent it like always, light and dumb and nothing. But then the nothing kept going. No little gray typing bubble. No 'lol.' No double text. No late night 'you up?' Just this wall of silence.
You would’ve rather gotten a dry reply. Hell, even a thumbs up. Anything to prove that he saw you.
But now it’s been long enough that sending something new would feel desperate. Like you’re chasing him. Like you’re asking for something you’re not even supposed to want.
You lock your phone and throw it face down on your bed.
Then pick it back up five seconds later.
Then toss it again, harder, as if that’ll prove something.
You wish you were mad. You think you are mad — at least a little. But it’s a tangled kind of anger. One that knots itself up with embarrassment and sharp, bitter shame. You want to scream at him, yeah. But also at yourself.
Why did you let this happen?
Why did you let him blur the lines and kiss you like that and touch you like he meant it?
You were supposed to be smarter than this.
You lie back across your bed with one arm flung over your eyes. It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. It was just sex. Just two nights. Two insanely good, dangerously close, way-too-connected nights. But still — technically just sex.
Except it wasn’t.
Not when he remembered your favourite sauce order without asking. Not when he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear while you ranted about work.
And especially not when he went cold the second things felt too good.
That’s what keeps twisting the knife. That shift in him. Like someone flipped a switch and rewrote the script. One minute, he was holding you like you mattered. The next, you were stepping out of his bathroom and into a stranger’s apartment.
You haven’t heard his voice since.
You bite the inside of your cheek and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down that lump of feeling before it rises too high.
It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re overthinking it.
Maybe he’s just going through something. Maybe he didn’t mean to shut you out. Maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward who got scared when the stakes changed.
But then, why didn’t you reach out?
Why didn’t you ask if he was okay, or tell him he was being weird, or demand an explanation like you’re owed one?
Because you’re afraid.
Because you don’t want the truth if the truth is that he regrets all of it.
Because deep down, you know this isn’t just a friendship anymore, and pretending it is would break you worse than silence.
Your phone buzzes once on the comforter beside you.
You freeze. Then sit up fast, breath catching halfway in your throat.
Your eyes are already scanning the screen before your brain can fully catch up.
Kook 🍜: hi
One word. Just hi. Like the last seven days didn’t happen. Like your stomach hasn’t been in knots trying to make sense of his silence. Like he didn’t vanish without warning after folding you into his sheets and leaving you to figure out what the hell it meant.
Your breath leaves you in one uneven exhale.
You blink at the message, your body locked in this strange stillness. Your thumb hovers, frozen. Part of you is tempted to stare at it until it disappears. Ignore it. Let him feel what it’s like to be the one left hanging. But your hands betray you again — just like they always do with him.
You: Radio silence for a week and all I get is a fucking hi? Wtf Jungkook
It’s not even what you really want to say, but it’s the closest thing you can manage that doesn’t sound like I missed you so much it made me sick or please don’t do this again.
Three dots appear.
Your heart squeezes like it’s caught in someone’s fist. And then the dots vanish.
Then come back.
Then vanish again.
You mutter, “Fucking say something,” to no one. It comes out too small, too desperate. You shut your eyes tight for a second like you can wring the feeling out of yourself by force.
A minute or so passes before his reply finally sends.
Kook 🍜: sorry. can i talk to you today?
You reread it so many times the text starts to lose meaning. Can I talk to you today?
You feel sick.
There’s no way you don’t know what this is. The phrasing. The tone. He wants to talk? What the fuck else could that mean, if not that he’s about to cut things off? That he’s going to hand you some polite little speech about how you’re great, but this can’t happen again. That he wants to stay friends and he doesn’t want to confuse things any more than he already has.
Or worse — he thinks you guys are better off cutting contact all together.
You bite down hard on your thumb, suddenly on the verge of tears and furious at yourself for it. You should’ve never let it get here. You should’ve drawn the line before the second time. Before the car. Before the party.
You should’ve been more careful with your heart.
But you’re here now. So far past the line you can’t even see it anymore.
You open your keyboard, then close it again. You want to ask what he wants to talk about. You want to demand answers over text so you don’t have to see his face when he says the words. But you know you won’t get anything that way.
You: Where?
Kook 🍜: i can come to yours
You sit there for a second, just breathing. You feel like you’re bracing for a crash that’s already midair.
You: What time?
Kook 🍜: i can be there in an hour?
You don’t answer. Not right away. You’re too busy staring at your reflection in the dark screen, wondering why your face looks so calm when your body feels like it’s trying to collapse in on itself.
You: Okay
You put the phone down carefully, like it might go off again, or explode, and turn your gaze to the ceiling. Every minute after this is going to stretch like it’s mocking you.
You don’t know if you’re getting closure or clarity. You don’t even know which one would hurt more.
But you know you won't cancel.
Because if this is going to end — if he’s going to say it — it has to be to your face. You need to see it.
You need to know for sure.
Jungkook is fucked.
Like, actually, cosmically, irreversibly fucked.
He stares at the elevator doors like they’re the gates to hell, and his own reflection in the brushed metal does him no favours. He looks tense. Jaw tight, shoulders hunched up high like he’s trying to fold himself into a more manageable version. Someone chill. Someone who isn’t about to shit himself over the thought of seeing you.
He rolls his shoulders back, shakes out his hands. Useless. He’s already sweating through his hoodie.
Every nerve in his body feels like it’s tuned an octave too high. Like if someone so much as breathes in his direction right now, he’ll either snap or confess something humiliating.
He wipes his palms on his jeans again. That’s the fourth time since the lobby.
The worst part is, he knows how he got here. He knows exactly when it happened, too — the moment the line moved.
It was your laugh. The tired kind, all cracked at the edges after that hellish Friday you had. You were curled up in his passenger seat, half out of it, feet tucked under you, and you’d looked over at him with that soft, worn-down smile.
And it just… hit him.
The weight of it. Of you.
He wanted to reach over and touch your face. Not to tease. Not to start something. Just to feel your skin under his fingers like it was allowed now.
And the second that thought formed — clear and blinding and way too tender — it was over. Game fucking over.
Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.
You’re his best friend. Have been for years. He knows how you take your coffee, how you organise your playlists by mood, how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you're anxious. You’re not just some girl he hooked up with at a party. You’re you.
And now, he’s standing in an elevator on the way to your apartment, trying not to think about how badly he messed it all up.
He hadn’t meant to ghost you. Not really. It was just — after that night, after the way you looked at him, all warm and trusting — he panicked. Full-body, brain-scrambling, total system failure. He couldn’t even look at you without feeling like he was seconds from saying something stupid like "Don’t sleep with anyone else, please," or "I think I’m in love with you."
So instead, he shut down. Did the one thing he always swore he wouldn’t do with you — he pulled away. Got weird. Avoided it. Avoided you.
And now you’re pissed.
Rightfully so.
He deserved that text you sent. Probably worse. You could’ve ignored him completely and he wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. You texted back and he’s clinging onto that like a lifeline. Because it means there’s still time. Still a chance to fix it — if he doesn’t blow it again.
He presses the heel of his hand to his chest like that might steady the erratic rhythm of his heart.
What the fuck is he even going to say?
Sorry for being an emotionally constipated idiot?
Sorry I ghosted you because I realised I’m in love with you and it short-circuited my whole fucking personality?
Sorry I thought I could fuck you and still keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than anyone else?
The elevator dings.
Jungkook flinches like it slapped him, then scrubs a hand through his hair, lets out a tight breath, and steps through the doors before he can change his mind.
He’s here.
Fuck. He’s actually here.
Jungkook looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Hair messy, clothes a little wrinkled, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before they dart away again. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jacket like he’s afraid of what they’ll do if left unsupervised.
You tell yourself not to feel relieved. Not to let it show. He didn’t cancel. He showed up. That shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It really, really shouldn’t.
But still — there’s something in your chest that unclenches when you see him standing there, real and present. Even if he does look like he’s about to apologise for burning down your house or something.
“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.
You step back from the door to let him in. Dry. Wordless. The move is automatic, but your body feels stiff with it, like your own muscles are annoyed on your behalf.
He hesitates before stepping inside, like he thinks the floor might swallow him up. You don't offer a smile. Don't even look at him once the door’s closed behind him.
You cross your arms and lean back against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching him with a blank expression that’s only half-real. The other half is tightly coiled under your skin — anger, sure, but under that, all the feelings you’ve been pretending not to have.
He does a slow, uncertain glance around your apartment like something might’ve changed since the last time he was here. But it hasn’t. It’s still your place. Same plants, same overhead light humming softly, same faint scent of laundry detergent that clings to the air.
He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s like he doesn’t know where to put his body.
You’ve never seen him like this before. Not around you. Jungkook’s always been comfortable here. The kind of comfortable that leaves shoes by the door without asking. The kind that opens your fridge like he owns a shelf. But right now, he looks like a stranger in someone else’s house.
You let the silence stretch out. You’re waiting for him to just speak, but he doesn’t
He doesn’t even try.
Eventually, your voice cuts through the air, a little too sharp. “Jungkook, you said you wanted to talk.”
His head snaps up like he forgot that was part of the deal. Like the fact that he came here at all already cost him everything he had in reserve.
“Yeah,” he says. His throat moves when he swallows. “I do.”
You raise your eyebrows, waiting.
He opens his mouth like he’s about to start, then closes it again. Shifts his stance. Rubs the back of his neck with one hand. You catch the way his eyes flick to the floor, then back to you, then away again.
You narrow your eyes. “Well?”
He breathes out a weak, almost bitter laugh and runs both hands down his thighs, like he’s physically trying to ground himself. “I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters.
You frown, arms still crossed tight across your chest. “What? Talk?”
You hate being like this towards him — you feel like a bitch. But it’s the only way that you can stop yourself from just spilling all of your thoughts and feelings to him.
“No, I—” He breaks off, jaw flexing. “No. I mean… say the right thing. Say any of it without sounding like an idiot.”
You blink, unimpressed. “So you came here without knowing what you were gonna say.”
He looks at you then. Fully. And for the first time since he walked in, you see the real wreckage behind his eyes. There’s nothing cool or casual about it. He’s unravelling in slow motion. Everything about him is quiet desperation wrapped in someone trying really hard not to fall apart.
“I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know what I wanted,” he says finally. “And then I figured it out, and that somehow made it worse.”
You stay silent.
He shifts closer, not by much — just a few inches. “I fucked up,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I did. I know I disappeared. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I was just—” he stops, jaw tightening again. “I got scared.”
You scoff under your breath and look away.
“I’m serious,” he says, softer now. “It freaked me out. How fast it happened. How much it changed.”
You look back at him, jaw set. “What changed?”
He swallows again. Stiff. His voice cracks a little when he speaks next.
“You,” he says again. “How I feel about you. That changed.”
Your chest tightens.
You don’t react, not visibly. You keep your face still, unreadable, even though your brain is suddenly scrambling. You’ve been yanked in too many directions this past week. You’re not going to lean into hope just because he finally decided to speak.
So you say nothing. You just hold his gaze and wait.
Jungkook takes a breath, his shoulders rising with it, then falling in a slow, deliberate exhale. The nervousness is still there — but it’s settled into something quieter now.
“I kept trying to tell myself it didn’t mean anything,” he says. “That it was just— whatever. Two friends, getting carried away. We were drunk the first time, right? It was easy to lie to myself about that. Easy to say it didn’t have to go anywhere.”
His voice is calm, but there's tension underneath it.
“But the second time?” He pauses, tongue running along the inside of his cheek, eyes still locked on yours. “That wasn’t drunk. That wasn’t casual. That was me driving us across town just to make you feel better, because I can’t stand it when you’re not okay.”
You flinch — barely — but he sees it. You know he does.
“And then it was me kissing you like I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. You think I didn’t notice how different that felt? I’ve never kissed you like that before. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
The weight of his words hangs in the air between you.
You’re still standing by the counter, arms crossed, but now your grip has loosened. You hate how much this is getting to you, how badly you want to give in, how your chest aches just hearing him say the things you’d only let yourself think when the lights were off and your phone screen was dark.
Jungkook takes another step toward you.
“When I brought you back to mine that night… when you came out of the shower, and I saw you just standing there in my space, looking at me like I was safe…” His voice catches, but not in a way that makes him crumble — just enough to show the truth of it. “I freaked the fuck out.”
You blink at him, finally speaking. “Yeah. I noticed.”
He huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh, but not quite. “I didn’t mean to shut down. I didn’t even know what I was doing in the moment. I just— everything in me wanted to pull you close, and that’s when I realised I couldn’t keep doing this the way we were doing it. Not without losing my shit every time you left.”
Your throat feels tight, but you still ask, “So you decided to ghost me instead?”
That lands. His jaw flexes, and he nods once. “Yeah. I did. I thought if I gave it space, I could go back to being normal. Go back to just being your friend. But I couldn’t. I can’t.
“I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. Not because of the sex, not because it was good— which it was, but that’s not the point. It’s you. It’s always been you. I didn’t realise how much until I almost lost it completely.”
You swallow hard. Your arms are uncrossed now. Not folded in, not defensive — just hanging at your sides like you’re too stunned to remember what to do with them.
Jungkook steps in closer. Not touching you yet. But near enough that you can smell him — faint cologne, his laundry detergent, the scent you associate with your car windows fogging up.
“I missed you,” he says, and his voice turns softer. “Every day. And it scared the shit out of me, how badly I wanted to talk to you. Touch you. Just be around you. I wasn’t ready to admit it last week, and I was a coward for that. But I’m not running anymore.”
Silence again.
Except it doesn’t feel like the ones you’ve been drowning in for a week.
“I don’t know what you’re feeling,” he says, lower now, like the words might break if he’s too loud. “And I’m not assuming anything. But if you still want me around— really want me— just say the word. I’ll figure out the rest.”
You inhale slowly, try to even out your breathing, but your chest still feels like it’s barely holding together. Your heart’s doing that thing where it thuds too hard without speeding up.
You hate that you believe him. That you always would’ve. That no matter how angry you were, no matter how cold you tried to be when he walked in — you still wanted him to explain, to prove it wasn’t what your worst thoughts told you it was.
And now he has.
He’s standing in front of you with open hands, with the words you oh so desperately wanted to hear. And for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with that.
“I hate you,” you say quietly.
It’s not true. Not even close. But it’s the first thing that leaves your mouth.
Jungkook huffs out a dry laugh, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. “I figured.”
You shake your head once. “No. I mean it. I fucking hate you for this. For—” You break off, because your voice is shaking now. “For making me feel like I was crazy. For not even saying goodnight after… after everything.”
His face tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“You could’ve just told me,” you go on. “You could’ve said it was too much. That it got weird. That you needed time. Anything. But you disappeared. And I had to sit here wondering if I made it all up."
You pause, pressing your lips together.
“And I— I missed you too, you know,” you add, quieter this time.
His mouth opens like he might speak, but no sound comes out at first. Instead, he closes the space between you by half, slow and steady, like he’s afraid of pushing too far.
“God, you’re such an asshole,” you whisper, but your tone isn't mean. Not even close.
He laughs, soft and low. “Yeah. I know.
“You promise me you’re sure? Cause Jungkook, I will fucking cut off your dick if you pull this shit again.”
He smiles but doesn’t hesitate. “I promise. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
You stare at him.
Long enough that the air between you stretches taut, thin as thread.
His hand twitches like he wants to reach for you but still doesn’t know if he’s allowed. His jaw flexes, his chest rising and falling in uneven swells. You can tell he’s waiting — for a sign, for a go-ahead, for you.
And even though part of you still wants to be mad, still wants to make him sweat just a little longer, the rest of you aches. For his mouth. For his hands. For the solid, grounding weight of him.
So you move.
You step into the last inch of space between you and grab the front of his hoodie. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a year, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.
You kiss him.
At first, it’s quiet. Just lips pressed to lips gently. There’s a pause between each pass of your mouth over his, like you’re both trying to remember how this started. How you even got here.
But then he sighs against you and it unravels something.
His hands lift, hesitating for only half a second before they settle on your waist, fingers curling tight. You press closer, and his lips part beneath yours. The angle shifts. Your nose bumps his cheek.
The sweetness melts fast.
He makes a sound low in his throat and drags you in like the distance is unbearable. Your hands slide up into his hair, fingers threading through the strands at the base of his neck, and the way he reacts — the little shiver he tries to swallow — sends heat straight down your spine.
You kiss him harder.
His body crowds yours until your back meets the wall. His chest presses to yours, and you can feel the way his heart races. How your own pulse kicks up to match it.
The kiss deepens, turns messy at the edges. His teeth catch your bottom lip and your breath stutters, but you don’t pull back. You tilt your chin, chasing more, and the next time he kisses you, it’s hungrier. One of his hands slips to the small of your back, palm dragging slow and warm beneath your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes your whole body twitch.
You gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his hands tightening. His other arm slips around your waist completely, pulling you flush against him, and suddenly you’re not thinking anymore.
The tension that’s been bottling up between you two — the silence, the week of wondering, the ache of missing him so much it hurt — it all floods to the surface.
You fist your hands in his hoodie, yanking him impossibly closer. Your hips shift forward, just enough to brush him, and the sound he makes is sharp and involuntary, caught between a breath and a groan.
“Fuck,” he mutters, barely pulling back. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “You’re driving me insane.”
You huff, lips brushing his. “That’s fair.”
He doesn’t stay at your mouth for long. His lips trail down — your jaw, your cheek, the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and uneven, and when he finds your neck, your whole body reacts. Your hands clutch at him, your back arches off the wall, and the soft sound that escapes your throat isn’t one you mean to make.
He feels it. Hears it. Answers it with a low, reverent sound that seems to vibrate straight through you.
His tongue traces the spot beneath your ear and your eyes flutter shut.
Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breath catching sharp in your throat. You pull back for a second before lowering your mouth to his neck, right where the collar of his hoodie dips. He lets out a small sound, hands flexing on your waist, when your lips press there.
You start slow. You can feel his pulse under your tongue, the way his chest rises against yours, unsteady and warm. Then you part your lips and suck gently at the spot just below his jaw. His whole body stutters, hips jerking against yours before he can stop it.
Your fingers trail down his chest, tugging his hoodie collar aside for better access. His head tips back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted.
You do it again, this time with enough pressure to leave a mark, and the sound of your mouth working against his skin is lewd.
He groans. It’s low and rough and barely held back, and the sound shoots straight between your legs. You feel him hardening now, undeniable through the fabric where he’s pressed against you.
“All mine?” you whisper, your lips brushing over the new mark you’ve left.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “All yours.”
His voice is breathless. Wrecked. And so damn certain it knocks something loose in your chest.
You pull back just enough to look at him — really look. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen, a flush climbing high on his cheeks. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like he would if you let him.
“I missed that mouth,” he mutters, hands gliding under your shirt again, palms broad and warm. “Missed everything.”
You kiss his throat in reply and drag your teeth across it until he swears under his breath.
His hips grind against you again, harder this time. You both feel it — the friction, the heat building between your bodies.
His arms shift beneath you and he lifts you clean off the ground in one smooth motion, hands strong under your thighs. A startled sound escapes your throat as your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, gripping him tight.
“Fuck,” he mutters again, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I want you so bad it’s actually stupid.”
You smile, drunk on the feel of him.
“Bedroom?” you murmur, tracing your lips over the new mark blooming against his skin.
He hums lowly, and shifts his grip on your thighs.
He carries you through the hallway and your lips never leave his skin for more than a second.
When he reaches your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate. He steps inside and drops you onto the mattress in one fluid movement.
You barely get your bearings before he’s crawling over you, slotting his body between your legs, His mouth finds yours again, and you moan into it before you can stop yourself when his knee presses between your legs.
Your hips twitch, grinding down against the pressure, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your chest as his mouth moves with yours. His hand slips under your shirt again, this time bolder, fingers spanning across your ribs and inching higher until his knuckles brush the curve of your breast.
You gasp softly, and he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Off.”
You sit up just enough to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head in one smooth pull, your hair mussed from the friction. He watches the fabric fall to the floor, then looks at you.
“You’re so fucking pretty," he breathes.
You roll your eyes automatically, even though your face is already burning. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious,” he says, and his voice drops low. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
His lips part and he kisses along your sternum — slow, wet presses of his mouth that trail up and then out, over the swell of one breast, then the other.
You inhale sharply when his mouth grazes the sensitive skin beside your nipple, and his eyes flick up at the sound, pupils blown. He kisses lower, then higher again, murmuring against your skin, “Can’t believe I went a week without this.”
The vibration of his voice right against your skin makes you arch, and he meets you halfway, grinding down slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what you’re chasing and wants to stretch it out just to watch you squirm.
Your hands curl into his shoulders, nails biting down just enough to make him grunt softly into your skin. He rolls his hips again, slow and heavy, and the pressure against your core has your breath catching in your throat.
“Koo,” you whine out.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips pink and wet, hair falling into his eyes. He grins, crooked and hot and deeply pleased with himself.
“Yeah, baby?” he asks, and his voice is pure sin.
You glare, but your thighs shift open under him anyway.
“Please.”
He hums, satisfied, and starts working his way lower. Every kiss is wet and unhurried. Down your chest, across your stomach. His hands follow, smoothing over your ribs, down to your hips, dragging the waistband of your pants just slightly with them. His thumbs hook in the fabric, pausing right above your pelvis.
He looks up at you, smug and dark-eyed.
“Gonna let me take these off?”
He's so annoying you're gonna kill him. “Do I look like I’m stopping you?”
“No,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your navel, “but I like hearing you say it.”
You huff, fingers threading into his hair again. “Take them off, Kook.”
He eases them down slowly — too slowly — dragging the fabric down your legs while his mouth follows in a path of heat and pressure. He kisses your hipbone, your inner thigh, every patch of skin he uncovers like it’s something sacred. When your panties go next, he makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat — more reverent than smug this time.
You’re already wet, already aching, and from the way his eyes flicker as he takes you in, he fucking knows it.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re soaked. You missed me that much?”
You exhale hard, cheeks hot. “Shut up and do something about it.”
He grins again, slower this time. “Anything you want.”
His hands grip your thighs and spread them further apart, and before you can say another word, his mouth is on you.
The first swipe of his tongue is long, and delibirate. You jerk at the contact, a broken sound slipping from your lips, and he groans like he’s the one falling apart. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place, and does it again.
Every movement of his tongue is practiced and precise. He starts slow, almost gentle, licking through your folds with a kind of focus that makes your head spin. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he pushes them apart with ease, never breaking rhythm.
Your hands move to the back of his head, gripping tight. His tongue circles your clit once, then again, and the third time he sucks it between his lips. You try to stifle a moan, but it slips from your lips anyway.
He pulls back just enough to speak, breath hot on your skin.
“Keep making those sounds, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Wanna hear every fucking thing I do to you.”
He movements turn faster, his mouth messy and hot and relentless. You’re already close, the build-up sharp and climbing, and he can feel it. One of his hands slips lower, spreading you open further with his thumb, and his tongue drags in tighter circles.
You’re writhing, panting, toes curling into the sheets. Your fingers tug at his hair, your spine arching off the bed.
“Fuck— Kook—” you gasp, head thrown back.
He groans again, the sound vibrating straight through your pussy. He doubles down, mouth moving faster, and when your hips start to stutter, erratic and desperate, he presses his hand over your stomach, grounding you.
“You’re gonna come for me?” he murmurs against you, mouth slick with you. “Gonna let me taste it?”
You nod frantically, unable to speak, your whole body wound tight and ready to snap.
He presses his mouth against you again, lips sucking against your clit, and the feeling has you squirming with pleasure.
“Kook—” your voice breaks open as you come hard against his mouth.
He moans, but his movements don't stop.
Your body arches helplessly, heels digging into the bed, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other still tangled in his hair as you ride out the wave. You’re gasping, blinking hard, your heart trying to punch through your ribs.
Only when your legs start to tremble uncontrollably does he finally pull back.
His lips are slick and swollen, jaw damp, hair messy from where you’ve been gripping it. And he looks wrecked — eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, like just being between your thighs has undone something in him.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then drags his lips slowly up your inner thigh, leaving lazy kisses in his wake.
You’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling like your soul just left your body, when he plants a final kiss on the inside of your knee and murmurs, “Yeah. I’m never ghosting you again.”
You let out a breathless laugh, too blissed out to be mad. “You better not.”
“After that?” he says, crawling back up your body, slow and unhurried. “I’d be clinically insane.”
He settles over you again, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, then another between your breasts, then finally your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, and when he groans against your lips, it sends a fresh jolt of heat straight through you.
His body is flush against yours, his clothed cock thick and heavy where it presses against your thigh. You let your hands trail down his chest slowly to tug at the denim loops of his jeans.
"Want these off," you mumble against his lips.
He smiles and presses one last kiss to your mouth before he leans back onto his knees. His hands go to his belt, and you watch the way his fingers fumble for just a second.
He gets the buckle undone, then the zipper, the sound louder than it should be in your quiet bedroom. You watch as he shucks them down, boxers and all, and your breath catches slightly at the sight of him — flushed and hard and achingly ready.
“Better?” he asks, voice low.
You nod, breath shallow, and he’s already crawling back over you. The heat of him sinks into your skin as his body settles between your thighs, bare now.
Your legs part without hesitation.
His weight, the press of his chest to yours, the familiar scent of him wrapped in something raw and new — it all hits at once, and your whole body shivers.
He’s warm everywhere. The kind of warmth that soaks into your bones and makes you ache for more.
His hands slide along your arms until they find yours where they’re resting above your head. He threads his fingers through yours and presses them gently into the pillow, pinning you there. His eyes search yours, and you feel the first brush of him between your legs, just the tip, teasing the edge of you.
He doesn’t move yet. Just rests there, eyes locked on yours.
“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and thick, like he’s hanging on by a thread.
You don’t answer — not with words. You just tilt your hips up, welcoming him in with nothing but a look.
He pushes in slow — painfully slow — each inch dragging fire across your nerves as your body stretches to take him. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, your fingers clenching around his. When he’s fully buried inside you, he stills completely.
“Fuck,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel… unreal.”
You can’t speak — your body’s too full, too wrecked already — so you kiss him instead. Slow and sweet and a little desperate. Your hips rock up, seeking more.
He groans into your mouth, finally starting to move, and every thrust is so fucking deep. It’s not rushed or frantic. It’s him savouring you, like he wants to remember how this feels with every part of himself.
His hands stay tight around yours, anchoring you both to the bed, to each other.
The rhythm builds, a slow burn that spreads everywhere, and between kisses you catch the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing something he’s afraid to lose. Like there’s something he wants to say but can’t yet.
“You were supposed to beg,” you manage to murmur against his mouth, breathless. “Grovel a little.”
That crooked smile curls against your lips. “My bad, baby,” he murmurs. “You can make me beg next time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You’re gonna regret that.”
He shifts his hips, thrusting deeper, and your breath leaves you in a ragged gasp.
“You promise?”
The challenge in his voice is smug, but his eyes are dark and glassy, his control hanging by a thread. You whimper in response, thighs tightening around his waist, and he dips his head to your throat, dragging his lips along your pulse like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.
He starts to move with more purpose now, making you feel every second of it. His cock grinds into that spot that makes your vision blur, and your whole body tenses, fingers squeezing his like a lifeline.
The moan you let out is shameless, high and wrecked, when he tilts his hips just right — again and again, like he’s carving his name into your body from the inside.
“Right there?” he murmurs, already knowing. His hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing you — every reaction, every sound. “God, you’re so fucking wet. You always get like this for me?”
“Koo—” His name slips out broken, a warning and a plea wrapped in one.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice ragged, forehead pressed to yours. His thrusts get rougher now, faster, the rhythm losing polish but gaining intensity. “Let me have you, baby. Come again for me.”
The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core, your whole body winding tight. His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, tongue tangling with yours, greedy and open and honest in all the ways his words still aren’t.
When he pulls back, he’s panting, “You feel like heaven, fuck.”
You can’t even process it — not now, not when his rhythm stutters and his hips slam harder, each thrust jolting a cry from your throat. Your legs are trembling, your grip bruising where it clings to him, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighening.
“That’s it,” he groans, watching your face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”
You bury your face in his shoulder, teeth catching on his skin as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, and you cry out his name. His hand squeezes yours back, holding you through it.
Your walls grip him tight, and he groans loud against your skin, hips faltering. “Fuck— shit—”
He thrusts once more before spilling into you with a broken sound, voice rasping your name like a prayer.
His whole body shudders as he comes, arms locked tight around you like he needs you to stay exactly where you are — here, under him, around him, real. His forehead drops to your shoulder, damp curls brushing your skin as he exhales, long and shaky.
Neither of you move right away. The air between you is thick with heat and breath and a comforting silence.
Eventually though, he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. Then another, softer.
His hand slides along your waist, fingertips brushing lazy patterns into your skin. You hum under your breath — not a word, just a sound — and he responds by kissing your shoulder again.
Your legs are still tangled together. His body still half-draped over yours. There’s a mess between your thighs and sweat clinging to your skin, and you should probably say something, anything — but there’s something sweet about the silence now. It’s soft. Unspoken. Peaceful, in a weirdly intimate way.
He shifts again, easing out of you with a quiet groan, and you wince a little at the loss.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, running a hand gently over your thigh like an apology.
“It’s fine,” you breathe, eyes closed, chest still rising and falling too fast.
He doesn’t go far. Just rolls to the side, still close enough that his leg stays pressed against yours, and reaches for the blanket to pull it up over you both. He tugs you into his chest like second nature, burying his nose in your hair, his hand stroking absently up and down your arm.
“You good?” he asks softly, lips brushing your temple.
“Yeah,” you say, quieter now. “You?”
He pauses. Then he nods against your skin. “Yeah. More than.”
You lay there like that for a while, heartbeats evening out. He’s still drawing shapes on your skin — fingertips slow, mindless — and you smile to yourself, warmth blooming low in your stomach.
“So,” you murmur eventually, voice still hoarse. “What now? We high-five and call it a night?”
He huffs a laugh into your hair. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a high-five.”
You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Cocky.”
“Confident,” he corrects, grinning. “But really—” He shifts a little so he can see your face, one hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right.”
You blink, caught off-guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Do what right?”
He raises an eyebrow, like it should be obvious. “Us.”
There’s a pause. You look at him, and he looks at you, and it’s terrifying and sweet all at once.
“I really like you,” he says, quieter this time. “And I’m not just saying that because I just got laid.” He cracks a small smile. “Though, to be fair, that was mind-blowing.”
You snort. “So humble.”
“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll take you out. I’ll plan dumb dates. I’ll be obnoxiously charming and show up with flowers. I’ll be— like— a gentleman, or whatever.”
You give him a look. “You should’ve done all that before you fucked me.”
His grin spreads. “Yeah, well. Guess I got the order wrong. You gonna hold that against me?”
“Maybe,” you say, lips twitching.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, fingers brushing your cheek. “You’ll see. I’ll be so romantic it’ll make you want to punch me.”
“I already want to punch you.”
“And yet,” he says smugly, pulling you closer, “you’re still in my bed.”
“This is my bed, dumbass.”
He pauses. “Okay, fair. But I am naked in it. With you.”
You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won’t go away. His arm tightens around your waist, and you let yourself relax into it — into him. For once, it doesn’t feel like something to second-guess.
He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.
You tuck your face into his neck and sigh. “You better bring the good flowers. Like the ones that don’t die in two days.”
“Oh, so now you’re picky?”
“You said dates and flowers. I’m holding you to it.”
“Noted,” he says, fingers threading into your hair. “I’m gonna be so disgustingly good to you.”
“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”
Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…
Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship.. non idol au
Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333
authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍
They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.
You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.
It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.
Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.
You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.
It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.
You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.
Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.
His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.
You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.
A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.
“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.
“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.
Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.
“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.
As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.
It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.
He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.
“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”
Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.
That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.
Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.
It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.
“You remembered?” she said softly.
“I remember every second of us.”
The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.
Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.
This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.
You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.
Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.
"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.
"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.
"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.
"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.
You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.
"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.
"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.
"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.
"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.
"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”
Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.
"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.
"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.
"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.
To be loved is to be seen.
That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.
Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.
This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of
-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.
It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you
-so long as you could experience it with him.
The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.
After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.
Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.
As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.
It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.
"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.
His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.
"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.
He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.
"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.
"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.
"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.
As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.
Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed
"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."
"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.
You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.
"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.
Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.
"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."
"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.
As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.
Warnings: smut, blowjob, gagging, unprotected sex, banter and conversation while fucking (cs they cutesy like that) praise kink, overstimulation, pet names, kook being pussy whipped af, reader sitting on jk’s face, squirting, sloppy— messy, creampie, Eunbi mention hehe.
Authors note: hi I’m back… posting this high and half asleep so ignore mistakes I’ll fix em when I can🤍 hadn’t uploaded since I’ve been trying to write more fluff— so while I finish that, here’s this!! Also thank you for 3.5k🥳
"I miss you," your husband pouts, his head tilted upwards as he waits for you to drop a kiss on his lips.
"I miss you," you reply, leaning forward and dropping a wet kiss on his slightly chapped lips. He lets out a soft sigh, letting his shoulders drop.
"Come here," Jungkook groans loudly, reaching for you as you separate your lips from his. His hands immediately grab behind your thighs, his fingers slipping under your dress to give your ass a squeeze.
"Stop!" You giggle, squirming around and moving your legs, but he holds them in place before dropping his forehead onto your stomach.
"Miss me that much?" You poke the back of his head, and he moans while nodding his head. "So much, I was staring at the wall and counting the seconds in my head," your husband mumbles into the floral fabric of your small dress.
You let out a chuckle before cradling his face with both hands and tilting his head upwards so he can look at you. His lips form a pout from your palms squeezing his cheeks.
"Horny?" you raise an eyebrow playfully as you watch his eyes peek open with a sheepish expression on his face. "How'd you know?" Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow as well, copying your action before catching his bottom lip with his teeth as you run your tongue over your lips.
"Want me to cover my eyes so you can-you know," you joke, poking his nose, making his eyes roll back playfully before dropping his head right back onto your stomach with a muffled 'tsk'.
"You're so annoying," Jungkook groans loudly, playtully shaking his head side to side with a low chuckle.
You let out a soft laugh as he pulls on your belly piercing through the fabric with his teeth. You give his hair a tug to get his attention, making him look up for a second and giving you a small smirk.
His fingers hike up your dress until it's all bunched up at your waist, revealing your lace panties. "New pair, baby?" your husband asks before dropping a quick kiss on your bikini line.
You bite your lip, looking down. Your hands tug softly on his hair as he fixes your panties and drops another kiss on the mound of your pussy over the lace.
"You like them?" you whine as you feel his tongue on your inner thigh.
"They're cute," he murmurs into the skin between your legs. You feel Jungkook's finger hook on the waistband of your panties before pulling them down your legs. He gives your thighs a squeeze as a sign for you to step out of them.
"Sit on my face," he finally looks up, his chin pressed against your belly.
"You say that so nonchalantly..." you smile down at him, feeling butterflies in your tummy erupt and arousal starting to coat your folds.
"Sit on my face and tell me about your day, baby, come on." He smacks your ass, making you gasp.
You watch your husband lay down on the couch and reach for your waist, pulling you in- over to him.
"Why are you acting shy, baby?" Jungkook tilts his head to the side with a shit-eating grin on his face as he watches you bite your lip, trying not to smile. Your husband guides you on top of him until your core is level with his mouth.
"So fucking pretty," Jungkook muffles out from the kiss he's leaving on your inner thigh. You bite your lip as you feel his thumbs spread your folds open. His tongue reaches up, leaving a long stripe. Your hips immediately buck forward onto his nose with a small sigh.
"Wait-ah, shit." You moan, arching your back and lifting your pussy into the air. A loud moan rips out of you as soon as Jungkook wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth-so you're fully sitting on his face.
Jungkook chuckles at your reaction into your aching center, sending jolts of vibrations throughout your body. Your husband buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking your clit, his nose rubbing against it every now and then whenever you would grind your hips.
"Your day?" he muffles between your legs. Your eyes roll back as he goes back to immediately sucking on your clit, making your legs squeeze his head.
"W-when you went to—nghh, to work, Eunbi and I took Pluto on a walk..." you squirm out, your hips grinding against his face. You try your best to think about anything else that isn't the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping your folds.
"Had to get our s-steps in..." you whine out as he taps your thigh for you to relax your legs beside his head. "I wa-want a dog," you moan out. Your eyes roll back as your husband harshly tugs on your clit with his teeth.
"Agh, mean," you moan, pulling on his hair, making him chuckle on your core.
With all your strength, you pick yourself up from his mouth with shaky legs. "Baby, I wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks right now," Jungkook groans, biting his bottom lip as his eyes watch your pussy dripping with his saliva and your arousal.
Jungkook grabs ahold of your waist, helping you drop onto his lap. The hard material of his suit pants brushes against your folds as you drop onto his hard bulge, making you let out a soft gasp.
"I for sure left a wet patch, yikes." You tsk, and Jungkook and you look down at his dark blue slacks as he lifts you up effortlessly by your waist. "Guess we gotta do laundry after this, baby," Jungkook smiles, giving you a playful wink. You roll your eyes at him as swarms of fireworks explode in your stomach at his handsome face.
"I'll wash, you hang?" You tilt your head to the side innocently as your fingers work on the zipper of his pants slowly before hooking on the hem of his pants and underwear, pulling them all the way down and discarding them somewhere in the huge living room.
His hard cock springs free and slaps on his stomach with a small thud, making you smile at him before positioning yourself on it.
"You wash, I'll hang." Jungkook repeats with a sheepish smile on his face. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck before connecting your lips with his. Your lips find his lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours at a slow pace.
Your pussy sits on top of his cock. You slowly grind your center against his length, moaning into the kiss whenever his cock rubs against your clit. "Just like that, baby," Jungkook coos. His grip on your waist tightens as he guides your hips against him.
You nod multiple times hurriedly before letting your mouth drop open in a silent cry. Your hips halt, "Your turn, tell me about your day." You smirk, squirming off his lap onto your knees in front of him.
"About to start yapping," Jungkook jokes, squeezing your cheeks before throwing his head back laughing at your scrunched-up nose. Jungkook finally lets go of your face with a small pat of encouragement on your cheek.
You giggle, wrapping your manicured hand over his cock. Your thumb carefully swipes against the aching red tip of his length that's already leaking with pre-cum. You look up momentarily to look up at your husband who's watching you with lust-filled heavy eyes. His arms behind his head as he watches your every move with a smirk.
You smile with your teeth before sticking out your tongue and letting your saliva drop onto his cock.
"Your day?" you mock him, making him roll his eyes.
You give his cock a nice tug, making Jungkook's eyes flutter shut with a whimper.
"I lied, f-fuck," Jungkook stutters as he watches you tap his cock on your pouted lips and left cheek.
"I suddenly can't think about anything besides you right now," he spits out hurriedly before you take his swollen tip in your mouth-sucking. His head immediately drops backward with a loud groan, making you chuckle softly, sending the vibrations straight to his cock. You don't waste any time before trying to take his length deeper into your mouth, your small hands wrapping around what you can't fit into your mouth, following the movements from your mouth. Saliva drips down your chin all over his cock, accumulating on his balls.
Your husband's hands wrap around your hair, giving them small tugs whenever you would suck too hard on his tip. You hollow your cheeks as you take more of his cock into your mouth, trying to breathe through your nose as you start to feel his length hit the back of your throat, making tears start to well up in your eyes as you continue to bob your head.
"Ahh fuck, wait, w-wait, shit, don't move." Jungkook moans, pushing your head lower and holding you in place. You gag around his cock, tapping your hands against his thighs for him to loosen his grip on your head but instead push lower. Jungkook's large hands coddle your face before letting go.
"Fuck!" You cough, quickly coming up, gasping for air.
Jungkook lets out a shaky breath as he watches his cock twitch in front of your face. His thumbs reach to wipe the tears that are falling down your face. "Shh, I know, I know. I'm sorry, princess," he coos, leaning closer and dropping small kisses all over your face.
You frown, looking up at him, who's already looking at you with a big smile. "I think I got a lil crush on you," Jungkook says, his eyes glistening under the cool light of the living room. His thumb runs over your bottom lip before pulling you up from the ground into his lap once again.
"I hope so... since you know," you shrug with a pout on your lips, feeling giddy as you lift your left hand up. You give your ring finger a small wiggle where a diamond ring sits beautifully on it.
"You're married?" he gasps loudly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, making you laugh. "Yup, he's really hot—he's also kinda a loser." You shrug, your fingertips play with his eyebrow piercing, tugging on the silver studs softly.
"Heard he's rich as well." Jungkook shrugs, following along, maintaining eye contact with you as his hand slowly makes its way down between you both, aligning his cock to your entrance, before lifting you up with another hand and pushing his cock into you as you sit on it.
Both your mouths drop open as he enters you. You clench your walls as you feel his tip hit your g-spot perfectly. Jungkook groans loudly, feeling his cock completely engulfed by your warm walls. You both pant heavily, eyes wide and locked onto each other.
"So... hot, wet, and tight," Jungkook murmurs with a smirk, his fingers digging into your hips as you both adjust to the feeling.
You shiver, biting down on your bottom lip. You started to move, slow and deep at first, giving yourself time to adjust. You gasped and moaned, your body trembling with each thrust. Soon, you started to bounce faster, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked folds. He could feel your walls contracting around him, making his eyes roll back.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your ass. This position allowed him to hit your g-spot with every thrust, making you arch your back and tilt your head back.
The couch creaked under the force of your combined weight. Sweat dripped from your forehead, mingling with your tears. You cried out, your head thrown back.
Your clit rubs against him as you feel his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. You lean forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you grind your hips against him.
"You like it rough?" Jungkook growls. He flips you around as he sits up, keeping his cock buried deep inside you. You land on your back with your legs still wrapped around his waist.
You nod, biting your lip, as he lifts your hips, making your back arch. Jungkook grabs your hips as he slams into you, making you let out a loud moan.
"F-fuck st-stop, gonna s-squirt." You cry out, your chest heaving, trying to make words up as your legs tremble beside you. You even try to push him off but Jungkook doesn't stop. Instead, he goes harder, slamming into you mercilessly-animalistic. The sound of your wet pussy meeting his cock echoes against the walls of your living room. He growls, his teeth grazing against your earlobe, making you shudder.
"You want to squirt for me, baby?" Jungkook pants, his hand releasing your leg, and starts rubbing your clit. You let out a hoarse scream as your husband rubs your clit in circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your moans become more frantic, and your nails dig into the armrests as he goes harder and faster. The sound of your pussy gushing out liquid makes Jungkook growl as he continues to pound into you. The sight alone of your pussy squirting as he continues to fuck you has Jungkook coming.
His orgasm hits him hard as he lets out a loud roar, his cock shooting hot ropes of cum into you. Your body shudders as your pussy continues to spasm around his cock.
Jungkook's whole body shakes with the force of his orgasm, his cock pulsating inside you. He pulls out, your pussy opening up, leaving a small gape as his cock pops out. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes rolling back as you feel your walls continue to contract around nothing. You let out a shaky breath as tears stream down your cheeks as you feel the cool air touch your overly sensitive pussy.
You open your eyes to your husband beside you on the couch, panting heavily, his cock still twitching from his orgasm. You sniffle softly as you look down between your legs. Cum dripping out of your hole onto the puddle on the couch.
"How do you feel, baby?" Jungkook mumbles as he leans down to kiss you softly.
"S-so good." You stutter out, too tired to even think.
Jungkook chuckles before nodding softly. He slowly sits up and looks between your legs, watching the puffy, red mess that is your pussy.
"Spread, baby," Jungkook whispers into your ear as he pulls your legs apart. Your pussy is red, swollen, and glistening. He lets out a growl as he watches his seed spill out of your pussy when you clench on nothing.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes as you wince when he runs his index finger over your bruised pussy. His thumbs wipe the tears running down your cheeks before kissing them in the most gentle way possible as if he's afraid he might break you.
Jungkook's hand slides under your chin, making you look at him. His eyes soften when he takes in your disheveled hair and messed-up makeup-still finding you the most beautiful woman in the world.
"I love you." He says, flicking your nose, making you smile.
"I love you." You mumble, your eyes still closed as you snuggle into his chest. Jungkook smiles, dropping a kiss on your forehead before sitting in silence for a couple of minutes.
"I think laundry can wait... round two?" You poke his side with a lopsided grin.
People really should stop pressing you on writing, like, writing and doing daily tasks it's really not easy. Sometimes writers don't have inspiration, aren't in the mood to write or just, other times, the words don't even come out as you plan in your head. So, just, be understanding and don't pressure or else you will add stress on her.
Synopsis: In which your boyfriend loves doing corny things with you… he also loves doing you.
Genre: established relationship.
Pairings: boyfriend!jungkook x fem!reader
warnings: smut.. car sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up bro) creampie, praise, size kink, belly bulge, cussing, fluff at beginning and end, banter between couple, oral, overstimulation, squirting, making out, reader crying out of pleasure, choking, spanking, dirty talking, reader fucked ‘dumb’, mentions of ot7, they’re so corny it’s sickening.
author note 🗒️: wrote majority of this shit being faded as fuck so forgive me if it’s ass and ignore the mistakes (I’ll get to them eventually) js wanted to thank everyone for 3k🤍… writers block has been an thing these pasts months so sorry that I haven’t posted anything new. Here’s more of kuwtb oc and jk dating era 🤍
“I should’ve brought my glasses,” you whisper, a loud laugh ripping out of Jungkook's chest. “I can’t see anything, baby.” You turn to your side before swatting him on the chest— a pout displayed on your face, before going back to your original position, looking up at the dark milky way.
“We were having a cute moment, and you just blurt that out,” your boyfriend quips, his eyes focused on your side profile. A small smile tugs on his lips as he sees you scrunch up your nose, shaking your head slightly.
“You’re so right, we are so corny.” You playfully stick your tongue out with a small “yuck,” before bursting into a giggle when Jungkook tickles your side.
“‘Can we lay on the grass and look at the stars?’” Jungkook mocks your voice, changing his tone into a much more high-pitched version to match yours.
“Stop! I wanted to have a moment like Noah and Allie,” you puff, a smile threatening to come out.
“Baby, you know they look at the traffic lights and not the stars, right?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you.
“Of course I know, but I feel like we would actually get run over. Plus, I like you too much to just let you get run over.” You shrug, your fingers pulling on the grass on the floor. Your eyes connect to the sky as Jungkook stares at your side profile— taking in every imperfection and turning it into another reason why he loves you.
“Like?” he asks, his thumb running over your bottom lip before tilting your head to the side by your chin, making you look at him.
Your heartbeat skyrockets as he stares into your eyes, the twinkle in them prettier than the stars you were just trying to see. Your stomach lights up as if millions of fireworks exploded in heart-shaped sparkles.
“Love.” You correct yourself, rolling your eyes playfully.
“That’s better.” Jungkook clicks his tongue, pursing his lips out. You let out a giggle, dropping a small chaste kiss on his lips before turning back to the sky with a goofy smile on your face.
“You believe in aliens?” you ask, cracking a smile from Jungkook's face— his dimple carving into his skin as he bites his bottom lip, trying to contain the biggest smile.
“Fuck yeah.” Jungkook nods excitedly.
“We are literally a rock when it comes to the whole universe. There’s gotta be something out there.” Jungkook explains, expanding his arms and pointing to the sky, as you nod happily beside him.
“I agree, my mom said she saw one of those spaceships or whatever they’re called,” you pipe in, turning to your side to face your boyfriend.
“You mean a UFO, baby?” Jungkook's face scrunches in adoration.
“UFO?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Unidentified flying object,” he explains, scooting closer to you— dropping his head to your bare stomach.
“I like spaceships better.” You shrug, and he laughs, adjusting himself slightly. Your fingers find their way into his fluffy hair, combing through it. He moans slightly, melting into your touch, closing his eyes, and dropping a gentle kiss on your abdomen.
“What would you do if an alien kidnapped you?” Jungkook asks, his voice muffled.
“Funny for you to think I would allow it,” you say nonchalantly.
You both could hear a hairpin drop from how quiet you both went before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Smartass.” Jungkook laughs, jokingly biting your stomach and earning a small squeal from you.
Your laughs die down after a while, replaced by silence, the only sounds being your guys breathing. Your eyes flutter shut with a smile, small goosebumps raising on your arms as Jungkook runs his fingertips on your belly— outlining ‘mine’.
“Tell me about your books,” Jungkook murmurs against your bare skin.
“Wanna know about my current read?” you ask, your fingers tugging softly on his hair, making him look up at you.
“I wanna know everything about you, baby,” Jungkook coos.
“Corny.” You scrunch your nose, placing a palm over his face and pushing softly backward, making him laugh. “Tell me about the thick-ass book I bought you two days ago.” Your boyfriend drops kisses all over your stomach.
“The dragon one?” you poke his cheek, before letting your finger play with his lip ring.
“There’s dragons?” Jungkook gasps, looking up at you.
“Yeah, and they have sex,” you say with a smothering giggle, whispering the last words in a hushed tone, making Jungkook's eyes widen.
“That’s enough, baby.” Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow before shaking his head, changing the topic to the latest drama, including Eunbi and Yoongi.
“Lora and I saw them coming out of the guest room while you were doing cartwheels with Taehyung,” Jungkook chuckles, the amusement on his face rubbing off on you.
“You’re lying,” you gasp, your jaw dropping open.
“I honestly didn’t see it coming.” Jungkook bites his lip, containing a smile. “Do you think Yoongi is the sub?” he continues before bursting out in a laugh, you following along.
"It's going to rain," you observe after a while, noticing a lightning strike in the dark sky. Jungkook hums in agreement before sitting up. He holds out his palm for you to take, which you do, and pulls you up onto his lap in a quick, soft motion.
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, adjusting on his lap and straddling him. His thumbs rub circles on your bare thighs.
"I want another tattoo," Jungkook murmurs, his lips pressing kisses along your collarbone and neck. You nod slightly, enjoying the sensation of his lips against your skin.
"Where?" you ask, holding his head in place with your palms. He bites his bottom lip, looking up at you with dilated pupils.
"My forehead, and it'll be your name," Jungkook says with a grin, making you roll your eyes playfully.
"You're annoying," you retort, pushing his head backwards, making him gasp dramatically.
"I think it'll look good, you know? Just got to pick a cool font," Jungkook jokes, poking your side, sending you squirming on his lap.
"You're never ever getting my name tattooed on you," you shoot him a glare, which he only responds to by sucking in his lips and widening his eyes before shrugging.
"I think your lips tattooed on my hip bone would be hot," Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
"You're crazy," you pout, scrunching your nose as he gives your cheek a kiss.
"Yeah?" Your boyfriend smirks, his hands gripping the sides of your waist, squeezing softly, pulling you closer to him.
"I could go a fair bit crazy over you, baby." His lips brush against yours.
Suddenly, the air is knocked out of your lungs when his lips crash against yours. It doesn't matter how many times he has kissed you; you just can't control the utter madness of butterflies swarming your stomach. The fuzzy feeling fills your senses with every touch of his fingertips on your hot skin. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips against yours, all conspire to make your heart flutter with the same giddy excitement as the very first time.
His touch is electric, sending shivers cascading down your spine as his fingers trace the curve of your jaw, his hand gently cradling your face. With a tender yet insistent pressure, he deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours in a silent invitation.
You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours as you move your hips against his. A soft moan slips past your lips into Jungkook's mouth as he guides your hips on his hardened length.
Jungkook's hand travels up, tangling in your hair, small, light rain drops start to fall down from the dark sky.
"Car?" he says in between kisses. You nod, moaning at the sensation of his lips on your collarbone, leaving purple, reddish marks.
You could never get tired of the way Jungkook looked at you, his eyes shimmery with a mix of love, need, and adoration. It was intoxicating, making you forget all your problems. The universe could have collapsed around you, and you would only care about his mouth on yours.
Everything about him was perfect, his scent, his touch, his voice, those beautiful lips, the way he looked at you, as if you were the only one that mattered in his world.
"Yes, car," you agree, breathy and disheveled.
In a swift motion, Jungkook stood and lifted you, carrying you to the car as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't until you reached the car that he broke the intense kiss, leaving your lips tingling with desire.
With a wicked grin, Jungkook, laid you on the backseat of his car. Jungkook’s fingers found the hem of your crop top, lifting it up, and you helped by throwing your hands over your head- revealing your lacy black bra.
A soft moan fell from your lips as he freed your breasts from the lace, by tugging downwards.
Your soft moans echoed within the car when your boyfriend cups your tits, massaging and kneading, your nipples hardening.
His lips found your jaw, kissing your neck— his eyes darted up to meet yours before his lips met the peak of your nipple, hot breath, then suckling gently, keeping his gaze locked before shifting his attention to the other breast.
Moaning, you bit your lip, head falling back from the sensation. Jungkook loved how responsive you are, the way your nails dig into his upper back.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Jungkook moans, his calloused hands grip your waist in place to stop you from squirming on the leather seat.
He leaned in close, planting a trail of soft kisses along your neck and shoulders. “Mine.” Your boyfriend whispered into your skin.
You licked your lips, not able to find the words to say what you wanted, as all your thoughts were consumed by lust. Your back arched, encouraging the caresses he was giving. His hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, deep and hungry, claiming your mouth as his. You let out a soft moan, your hands finding their way to his face.
“Spread your legs princess.” Jungkook says, his voice deep and gentle— he taps on your inner thigh.
You hum softly, watching your boyfriend work on the zipper and buttons from your denim shorts. Jungkook pulls down your shorts down your legs— your panties following quick after.
“Look how pretty this pussy is,” Jungkook chuckled, his eyes making contact with yours raising an eyebrow. He runs a finger down your slit making you choke out a desperate whine.
“Feels good baby?” He says, he adjusts himself— pushing your legs back, giving him more space to be face to face with your dripping core. You only moan in response when he drops a soft kiss on your clit.
You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips, He smiled against your heat, He licked his lips as he slowly parted your folds with his thumbs, revealing your glistening clit. He took it into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it. You let out a desperate moan, your hips bucking in desperation.
He started flicking his tongue against your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your back arched, grinding your pussy against his tongue, feeling it flick deep inside your folds.
“Ngh, right there,” You dug your nails into his hair, your toes curling.
“Right here baby?” Jungkook smirked, inserting two fingers into your sopping hole. You couldn't help but moan and nod, as his fingers curled inside you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.
“Ass up, princess.” he ordered. Without needing to be told twice, you did as you were told, with wobbly legs you flip around. He roughly grabbed one cheek, squeezing it and spreading you, giving him a view of your tight, puckered hole.
Jungkooks cock twitches in his pants as he watches your holes clench over nothing. “Feeling empty?” He chuckles, a rough hand makes contact with your ass with a hard smack— your back arches. You let out a loud squeal, pleasure and pain mixing together.
He lets out a low growl, his cock straining against his pants, Jungkook moans as he watches your wetness begin to drip down your thighs onto his seats.
“Actually, do you want to tell me about the dragons you were reading about?” Jungkook jokes behind you making you snap your head backwards with a glare.
“You’re annoying.” You pout, Jungkook eyes twinkle with amusement— he bites down on his bottom lip containing the smile that is threatening to spill out. “Annoying? I have you spread out in front of me baby… your pussy is literally dripping.” Jungkook tilts his head to the side cheekily.
Your boyfriend taps on your ass for you to turn around.
He didn’t have to tell you twice as you flip around, before reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull down on the waistband, alongside his boxers. His cock springs out, the head red and aching.
Jungkook watches you wrap your hand over his thick length, giving a slow pump causing him to blow out a sigh. Jungkook stops you before you connect your lips with his cock.
“As much as I want you to give me the head of my life, I fucking need to be inside your pretty pussy right now baby.” Jungkook rushes out, tugging on your loose hair backwards.
You pout at him. “Let me fuck you.” Jungkook whispers, the grip on your hair tighten pulling you upwards— his lips milliliters away from your face.
“Fuck me.” You whimper.
The moment the words left your mouth jungkook is picking you up and placing you on top of his lap. You’re leaning your back against Jungkook's chest, your legs spread open on each side of his big thighs. His arm is snaked around your waist pulling you closer into him.
“Cramps?” Jungkook whispers into your neck, “not yet.” You joke, he shakes his head with a small laugh before you wrap your hand around his cock aligning it to your entrance.
“Going to take my cock like a good girl?” He guided your hand, aligning it to your dripping entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your pussy before pushing his cock inside you. You feel the familiar pressure as he slowly slid his length inside you, your pussy sucking him in.
“So big.. fuck.” You moan, your pussy clenching around him making him moan against your ear. “If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He chuckled.
You dipped down onto his cock, his cock hitting your cervix when you completely sat down on it. Your legs shake beside you, his hands fastly grip underneath your thighs.
“All up my belly.” You moan, arching your back against him.
The sight of his cock inside you, buried up to the hilt, made him moan. "You're so tight," he half-whispered, half-growled against the shell of your ear, the roughness of his voice only fueling the intense passion that already burned through your veins.
He wove his fingers into your hair, guiding your head with an almost possessive need as he tilted you to give him better access to your lips. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, his tongue invading, claiming. His eyes closed for a moment as he savored the sensation of your wet, tight pussy engulfing him completely.
He groaned as you lifted yourself, his cock popping out momentarily before sliding back in when you slammed down on it, your cervix meeting his tip with each movement. It was a merciless, primal form of pleasure, your wetness coating his length with every thrust.
His eyes remained locked on you as you got lost in the sensation of his thick length filling you up, throaty moans leaving your lips as you moved on top of him, grinding down onto his cock, your hips moving in a circular motion. Jungkook couldn't help the low growl that left his throat
He pulled you back up, forcing you to bounce on his rigid cock, watching as your full lips parted in an ecstatic moan. The sway of your hips in time with the motion of his cock sliding in and out of you was so fucking erotic it was almost a crime.
You gasped, leaning back just enough to give Jungkook better access to your exposed neck. His cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly which each bounce.
Jungkook's hips bucked up, meeting your bounces, desperate to get as deep as he could, to fill you up completely. The sensation was almost overpowering. A familiar heat was building inside you, a sweet ache that craved release.
Your eyes rolled back, waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.
His hips pumped faster, his cock buried deep inside you, stretching you in the most exquisite way. Jungkook took your lips in another deep, greedy kiss, muffling the sounds of your cries as you rocked your hips wildly, trying to take him as deep as you could, desperate to reach that peak that felt so tantalizingly close.
“I can’t.” You cry, "That's it, baby, feel every inch." He urged you on.
The thrusts grew rougher, deafening the world around you except for the sound of your moans, his grunts, the soft squelching of your bodies coming together and the rain pouring outside.
The pressure built and built, coiling tighter and tighter until you could no longer contain it. Your entire body trembled as you came undone, shattering the quiet of the car with a lustful cry. Your pussy clamped down around Jungkook's cock,
"Cum for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust.
You let out a loud whine as his cock slipped out of you. Your body continued to rock back and forth, the ache of denial from not having his cock buried inside you being too much to bear. You glanced down between your legs, flushed when you noticed the stickiness that coated your inner thighs.
Jungkook picked up your trembling body and placed your back onto the leather seat. “Gon’ fuck you missionary so I can see your pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.” Your boyfriend growls.
Jungkook wasted no time, returning home, his cock sliding inside you once more as you let out a needy moan.
His thrusts were relentless, deep, and hard, driving himself into you. The way your pussy immediately clenched around him, took him in so greedily, made him groan, his eyes locked on yours.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you eager for air. “H-harder,” you pant, your voice growing hoarse as his grip tightened.
The car rocked beneath the force of his thrusts, the sounds of wet slaps echoed, mixed with your cries of pleasure, your head tossing back, your eyes rolling back at the ferocity of his thrusts, the sensations building once more, the climax burning beneath your skin.
"Harder...fuck, harder," you cried out, your voice high-pitched and desperate. Jungkook chuckled, releasing his hold on your throat, you gasp as you inhale deeply for air.
Jungkook fingers find their way to your clit once more, his thumb rubbing it in circles while he continues to thrust into your soaked cunt.
The mix of the insistent pressure on your clit and the rough thrusts was too much, a wave of pure pleasure crashing over you, your pussy gripping his cock, your body pulsing around him. Jungkook pulled out, watching with a devilish grin as your pussy squirted all over the two of you.
Jungkook slapped his cock on your swollen clit— watching your pussy spasm with spurts of juices, before pushing his cock back into you.
The sensation of being filled once more, the echo of your screams, bouncing off the car roof, and the overwhelming orgasm had left you lightheaded. You clung to Jungkook, panting, drool sliding down your chin.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me..." He groaned in pleasure, the sensation of your slick walls gripping him, almost drowning him.
"You... fuck me so good, baby," you panted, the words slurred, your voice bordering on sounding completely fucked-dumb. Your body shuddering, your pussy spasming around his cock, your orgasm brewing fast. Jungkook's hips sped up, his cock pulsing inside you.
Suddenly, your back arched, your vision filled with a white haze as another orgasm crashed over you. The delicious agony coursed through your body, your pussy clenching down on his cock, Jungkook grunted, feeling you contract around him, the sensation sending him over the edge. His cock pumped inside you, the warmth of his seed filling you up completely. He moaned against your neck, his heart pounding, lost in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his jaw clenching, his eyes closed as he rode out the intense wave of ecstasy. His breath hitched, his hips jerking, before he collapsed against you, his cock still throbbing inside you, spent.
Your body continued to tremble, the aftershocks of the powerful climax lingering. Your heart raced, your breaths coming in ragged pants, sweat beading on your forehead.
With a low growl, Jungkook slowly pulled out of you leaving you feeling impossibly empty. The slick sound of his withdrawal accompanied by a heated chuckle of his.
Jungkook looked down, the sight of your pussy dripping with his cum— your wet pussy gaping, waiting for him to fill you once again.
Jungkook watched, captivated by the scene, as you reached down to collect his cum, watching as you pushed it back inside.
“Fuck.. that was hot.” Jungkook groaned, his lips landed on your face, trails of wet kisses from your forehead, down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally landing on your lips. The storm outside, the rain and thunder providing the soundtrack to your post-coital bliss.
Your limp, spent body sprawled over his car seats, your heart still racing, your breaths coming in shallow pants. You gazed up at him, the sweat on his forehead, the flush on his cheeks, the lust still in his eyes, his breathing heavy. A hand cupped your cheek, his fingers gently stroking your jawline as his lips moved against yours in a tender kiss.
Jungkook traced his fingers along your jawline, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
"You good, baby?" He asked, the tenderness in his voice, an unexpected warmth to the intensity of what had just happened.
Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him and giving a slow, lazy smile. "Yeah, just a bit sore," you responded, blatantly referring to the aching between your legs.
"You're cute, baby," Jungkook whispered into your lips, the simple remark warming you, leaving your heart fluttering. You hummed in content.
The two of you lay there, naked, your skin still glistening from sweat, the weight of the storm outside more comforting than daunting. Your breaths slowly returning to normal.
A beat of silence permeated the car until Jungkook finally broke it, his voice brimming with mirth. "So... do you think we fucked better than the dragons from your book?"
yes, im not writing anything new at all. I js posted things I had in my docs that I wanted to get rid of… so I gave them to you guys to read but besides that im not going to post anything else for a while.
"You need to be quiet, baby," Jungkook whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You weren't good at being quiet, something Jungkook knew, but he loved putting his girlfriend to the test. Here you both were in your childhood bedroom, locked doors, past midnight, with your parents sleeping down the hallway.
You lay on your small bed, the pink covers down to your belly, as Jungkook leaves purplish marks on your neck. Your core dripping and soaking the lace panties you're wearing. A small chuckle escapes your boyfriend as he runs a finger through your wet folds, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.
"You know how bad I am at being quiet... fuck," a soft moan escapes your lips as he attaches his mouth onto your nipple, twirling his tongue around the bud before sucking and occasionally biting, which has you throwing your head back and pulling on Jungkook's hair.
"That's the fun of it, baby," he stares up, giving your nipple a flick.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch your boyfriend throw the covers off the bed before settling in between your legs, your pink panties soaked.
—the small wet patch in the middle has Jungkook's cock twitching in his sweatpants.
"Mine," he leaves a chaste kiss on your pussy. You suck in a breath as you watch your boyfriend pull down your now-ruined thong-throwing it somewhere in your room. His tattooed hand spreads open your legs.
A desperate little cry leaves your lips as Jungkook attaches his mouth onto your pussy, licking a wet long stripe-strings of wetness and saliva mixed together whenever Jungkook separates his mouth from your aching cunt.
Jungkook doesn't waste any more time before attaching his mouth once again before ravishing your folds like there was no tomorrow. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wet sounds from your pussy covering your soft high-pitched moans.
"Fuck, I c-can't," You whine, your fingers tugging harshly on your boyfriend's hair to pull him off, but his grip on you is much tighter. His tongue flicks rapidly on your sensitive bud, sucking on it occasionally, making it puffy and swollen. You have a white pillow over your face, trying so hard to contain the moans you so badly want to let out.
"I'm gonna come, fuck, fuck, fuck, ah," you squeak.
The moment your eyes roll to the back of your head, about to let go, Jungkook quickly detaches his mouth from your pussy with a loud pop.
"What the fuck?" You whine, your voice muffled from behind the pillow, which has Jungkook snatching the pillow away from your face. A disheveled, pouty you stares back at Jungkook, making him laugh before dropping down to kiss your face.
"That was mean," you pout, your hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck pulling him down, making him fall on top of you.
"Baby, I'm going to squeeze you to death," Jungkook lifts a bit of his weight, giving your lips a wet, lazy kiss.
"What a heavenly way to die," you hum happily.
"You're cute, baby," Jungkook jokingly bites your cheek, which has you giggling and pulling away. "Stop, ew!" you joke, pushing his face away before wiping his saliva off your cheek with a giggle.
"Ew? Two seconds ago I was just eating yo-" Jungkook gets interrupted with a small hand on his mouth.
"Shush, you're so loud," you hush. Jungkook only nods before licking your palm; you quickly retract your hand with a low giggle.
"Okay, baby, where are the condoms?" Jungkook quickly stands up from the bed, going directly to the place his girlfriend is pointing at. "There's only one left, remind me to buy more," Jungkook says quietly before making his way back to bed, dropping his sweats, letting his cock spring free before jumping back into bed with you.
"Hi," he says before ripping the condom open with his teeth.