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soft4gguk · 3 years

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to build a home | chapter seven

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. fluff. smut.

Word count: 13k (if u saw the post where i promised this one wouldn’t be 10k like the last one, no u didn’t 🤫)

Warnings: oral sex (m & f), deepthroating (did i say pj jk? my bad, i meant bj jk 😌), soft!dom jk, sub oc, fingering, everything is v wet, v graphic, dirty talk, protected penetrative sex, lil bit of cockwarming, they’re so smitten w each other through it all, loads of kissing <3, loads of lovin’, lil bit of angst but it has a happy ending, so much fluff, they’re so domestic, JUNGKOOK IS A DREAM, oc has 0 filter, shirtless jimin making coffee?, i think that’s it <3

Author’s note: i truly hope u enjoy this one <33 sorry for making it so long i got carried away and also!!! this is what happens when y’all put the image of dilf jk in those see through pyjamas in my mind and send me audio porn, ok? i go crazy!! i love u guys, sm. thank u for the love always!! i’m sending it right back paired w a million kisses ur way, as per usual. <3333 xxxxx

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Seven

“Tap into your awareness. Take a deep breath, feel the warm light spread all through your body – a golden hue that starts at the top of your head all the way to the tip of your toes. Bask in it, welcome the peace into every inch of your temple. Feel it in your core, that warm light – that tingle-”

You bring your steps to an abrupt halt.

“Bro, really?” You stare at your screen in disbelief, as if the sweet voice that was attempting to coax you into a peaceful headspace would apologize for how oddly arousing you found her meditative practice.

You pull at the string of your headphones, with more force than necessary for, you know, emphasis – shortly followed by a groan, all powered by frustration.

The worst kind of frustration there is.

“You know what I do when I’m really horny?” Lucy’s question snaps you out of your sulking.

You stay quiet for a couple of seconds, debating whether you want to know the answer to that or not. Today had been stressful enough – a long, slow Monday that had marked the highest temperatures the Summer had seen. A historical heatwave, they called it. Though your heat came less from the fact that the Earth is so polluted it reaches the 40s and more from your activities the day prior.

You decide to venture into her potential advice. “Tell me, Senpai.”

“I have sex with Jimin.” She simply shrugs, voice relaxed as she takes another lick of her strawberry iced lolly. You wince at how lewd she makes it look.

“You had sex for the first time like- yesterday.”

“Wrong. I made love for the first time two weeks ago.”

“My bad, Aphrodite.”

“You’re just bitter because I’ve had sex in your boyfriend’s house and you haven’t.” Her smile is roguish and you can’t help but return it, consequently shoving a pillow her way.

“You’re so bad. So, so bad.”

“The mattress had great elasticity, by the way. Like crazy comfortable. Like- oh! Duh. Like a hotel bed!”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. “I don’t know what hurts the most – the fact that I want to know how comfortable his mattress is or that… he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and therefore we have to take it slow. We have to be good, Lucy. We can’t let another playroom gate unfold.”

“I think playroom gate was totally healthy.”

That’s her new thing, preaching about the importance of a healthy sex life.

“Fuck, I know. I didn’t even know sex could feel like that. And we didn’t even go all the way.” Your breathing starts picking up, chest heaving slightly at the sole memory.

“Okay, okay. I’ll give you actual good advice. From a former virgin to a newly rebirthed one-” you narrow your eyes at her, another pillow ready to swing in her direction. She just giggles. “Meditate.”

“Meditate?”

“Yup. It really helps you relax and focus on the now. Consciousness and all that.”

“I am consciously horny. Now.”

She laughs. “Where’s Herbie?”

Herbie, also known as your vibrator.

“I don’t want Herbie!” You throw your hands up in defeat, sighing as they come down.

You’re fully throwing a tantrum, you’re aware. But you can’t help the tension that builds all through you. The way something in your lower belly drops like quickfire when you all but think about his face – his hooded eyes, glassy over how on edge he was. The red of his lips. The mess you’d made of his hair from running your hands through it, tugging whenever he had your hips bucking and your legs closing around his big, strong ones.

Here we go again.

Another groan.

Lucy gets serious all of a sudden, straightening up in her place on the couch. “Well, ___, then you’re gonna have to revaluate this whole taking it slow. Or, I don’t know, get on your knees and pray. Maybe he'll show mercy and, you know, whilst you’re at it...”

Meditation sucks.

Okay, you’re being dense.

Meditation as to treat sexual frustration sucks. Yet you keep gravitating towards it because for one, you already paid for the overpriced app subscription and two, it’s good white noise. It’s your third day in this torturous journey to tuning into your higher self who, presumably, is less horny and more collected. A true being of light. You decide to complement your spiritual practices with a nice walk – making sure to get out of the bus a few stops prior so you can collect yourself with the aid of some movement and fresh air until you have to come face to face with the very root of your distress.

You smile. That’s all it takes, really. One brief second of him crossing your mind. Fuck welcoming peace. Jeon Jungkook is so much better.

You pick up your pace, your whole demeanour giddying up at the fact that it’s only approximately twenty minutes until you see him again. Him and Soori, hand in hand as she practices her walking – big round eyes and puffy cheeks coming up to greet you, her little button nose scrunching up in excitement. Her expressions are a carbon copy of her father’s, whose face takes on the same motions at the sight of you.

When you finally make it to his front door, you can feel the excitement settling in your chest. It makes you think about how lucky you are – to be able to come to them.

You ring the doorbell and wait for a minute, smile adorning your face as you hear the door unlock from the inside as it begins to swing open. You take a step forwards, voice ready to chirp out your usual greeting for Mrs. Chae.

The words are caught in your throat as the door comes to an open and you’re met with Jungkook, a bright smile on his face as he holds Soori in his arms, her smile growing so wide it makes her pacifier slip from between her mouth.

All of it is unexpected – from having him open the door for you, to seeing him first thing in the morning and taking in his enthusiasm.

Jungkook is halfway out the door, free arm outstretched, ready to welcome you in it.

“What are you wearing?” Your words make him stop dead in his tracks, confused.

You just stare at him, unabashedly scanning your eyes through his body. He looks fresh out of the shower – hair silky and soft and a soft expression in his face that tells you he’s well rested. He looks good, that’s not it. What’s it is his outfit, if it can even be considered as such. He’s wearing a mesh, see-through olive green set. The short sleeve shirt and pants so sheer they leave little to the imagination as your eyes fall from the dark ink you can make out on his shoulder to his black briefs. The first couple of buttons in his shirt are undone and so is your sanity.

“Wha- oh. My pyjamas? It’s a cozy morning. We’re cozy, you see?” He motions to Soori as he says this and you take in her cute lilac sweatsuit, a soft pair of bunny slippers on her feet as they swing back and forth frantically. She smiles at you, letting you know she wants to be in your arms – almost surprised herself that she gets to see you earlier than usual.

“You sleep like that?”

“No, I don’t. I sleep-” but Jungkook doesn’t finish that sentence, for both of your sakes. “It’s a lounge set, now can you come in?”

You step inside, a chuckle escaping your lips. “A lounge set. That is so presump-” but before you can finish your witty remark, his arm snakes around your waist and his lips collapse against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. “Jung-,” you gasp, “what are you doing? Where’s Mrs. Chae?”

“She’s away. On vacation,” he says, lips still grazing yours. He places one last chaste kiss, smiling a little at the way you pout, still confused. He pecks your cheek before he finally says, “good morning.”

It’s going to be a long, long day.

“Morning,” your voice is a dreamy whisper, chest still flushed to his. Soori taps on your shoulder repeatedly, a bit more forceful than usual as she lets out a little whine, demanding your attention. She’s still getting used to having to share it. “Hi, princess. Good morning. How are you?” You take her from him as she jumps in your arms.

“Ouch,” he brings his hands to his chest dramatically, “so she gets all the morning love?”

“Now I see where she gets it from,” you tease, making him scowl at you. “Good morning, lounge princess.” You coo at him, pinching his cheek.

“Do you not like it?” He says, gaze dropping to take a look at his clothes as if he hadn’t just picked them himself.

You hold back a laugh, but your smile gives your amusement away. “It’s… different. You can rock it, though.”

He pouts. “You’re mean.”

“Naaaa,” Soori says, taking you by surprise.

“Yeah, Soo. Tell daddy.” You walk away as you say this, making your way to the kitchen.

He’s about to protest on your use of the forbidden word but his brain fails him, currently working at a solid 3% of its normal capacity. He opts for engaging in baby talk. That always helps. “Don’t flatter yourself. Everything is Na nowadays. We fall into the same category as the giraffe, the rubber ducky and… whatever’s edible, really.”

“So, are you working from home today?” You ask, strapping Soori in her high chair. Jungkook got a head start on her breakfast already and she waits patiently for it.

“Yeah. I pulled crazy hours yesterday so I told everyone to take it easy today. I still have a bunch of contracts to look through but, no meetings.”

“Ah, explains the fit.” You say, eyes glued to the apple you’re slicing.

He rolls his eyes, but walks towards you nonetheless. “Hey,” he towers you from behind, hands resting at either side of your body on the counter. “I missed you.”

“You saw me yesterday.” You mock nonchalance but he can hear the smile in your voice you hide from him.

“Well, yeah, but- I missed you. Like being able to hug you. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” you mimic, a playful tone to your voice.

“What did you put in your coffee this morning? You’re extra witty today, baby.”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since Sunday and your brain can’t grasp just how weak the pet name makes you. How you can physically feel your knees weakening, the way they write in poems and love songs.

Adoration with two pumps of horny, Jungkook. That’s what I put in my coffee.

You turn around, sheepishly smiling at him. His grin widens when he sees the light blush to your cheeks, arms leaving the counter and taking a step back. You miss his proximity already. “Nothing,” you sing-song, “I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smirks before his head lowers, his lips on a journey to find yours.

Soori shrieks, pointing at her apple as she lets out her infamous, “Naaa.”

You turn to her and Jungkook takes a step back.

“Sorry, Soo. Coming right up.” You tell her.

You go back to slicing her fruit and Jungkook plates her eggs, cutting them into tiny pieces as he does the same with the toast, lathering some avocado on top.

“Sorry,” he says, avoiding your eyes. “We should probably…,”

“Behave. Whilst, you know, I’m on the clock and everything.” You finish his sentence for him, pressure so evidently swimming in the air, it could cut a diamond.

“Yeah- yes. Also… we should, you know. Take it slow.”

“Yeah,” you agree, voice casual but there’s a strain to it. “Sunday was just… a tiny mishap. Good, but- a mishap.”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t regret it-”

You turn to him, frenzied eyes meeting his. “Neither do I.”

“But we should probably go back to our programmed schedule of… taking it easy. Slow is good.”

“Slow is great.”

“Yeah,”

“Yeah.”

Slow is, to put it lightly, hell.

You’ve been tip-toeing around the sexual tension that follows you like a shadow wherever you go – physically and mentally.

Yet, besides the gruelling desire for him that you can’t help but welcome all through your body you can’t really ignore how it doesn’t just stop at that. It’s the closeness you crave – in more than just the physical aspect of your relationship. Or more so, your situationship. That also has your head looping in a frenzied, uncontrollable train of thought.

You can’t shake just how much you enjoyed having him sweep you in his arms and press your lips to his – Soori in his hold, the both of them welcoming you with bright smiles and a sense of home. One that you’ve tried to tame down from inside your chest since the morning. You feel foolish, but it’s inevitable – the way you thought something had drastically shifted inside of him. That he’d changed his mind, not really caring anymore about someone finding out. Not his friends, not Mrs. Chae, not a potential neighbour passing by. It’s a stretch, in all ways fathomable. Because in reality, you know that slow doesn’t stem so much from what people would think when they realize he’s engaging in more than professional affairs with his nanny; but more so from the fact that opening up, to you, to the world, hell – even to himself – is still dreadful to Jungkook.

“Naaa-na?” Soori blabs, shoving a fistful of noodles that overflow from her little hand your way.

“No, baby. Those are noodles.” You tell her, smiling sweetly and leaning your face on your hand as you stare at her.

“Nanana,” she half sings, half states – shaking her head as she gives you that signature bunny smile.

You can feel your heart seizing up in your chest. She looks so much like her dad.

“Hey, bun. You look so much like your daddy when you smile like that.” She just stares at you, giddiness not faltering once as she continues to eat her noodles. “You’re so cute, just like him.”

You gave your heart to Soori far before Jungkook began occupying it, too. She was so easy to love – wide eyed, curious and even though she never lost that easy spirit of hers, you could see how much the situation was affecting her. She would cry, sometimes for long stretches of time, inconsolably sobbing into your shoulder as you rocked her back and forth, attempting to put her down for her nap. Her eyes would tear up and her little body would shake in your arms and the process was exhausting enough to carry its essence throughout the day. At times, Jungkook would walk through the front door, finally back from work, and she would fall into his arms, a new wave of tears threatening to spill from her glassy eyes. She would stare at her dad, quivering chin and tucked bottom lip, as if wondering if he’d leave again in a matter of minutes.

You didn’t realize just how affected she’d been until you overheard Jungkook, Hobi and Kenny that night after the inauguration. The bitterness in his words when he claimed Ira didn’t love Soori enough to stay.

It was then that you grasped it, the severity of the reality she was living through when you stepped into her life. It made you want to do things differently back then. If you’d known, you would’ve been able to understand just why she dreaded being put into her crib during nap time – fighting sleep in your arms until her little body gave in. She couldn’t just be left there, always needing to fall asleep in your arms. She would toss and turn, whining when she saw you walk away. It made sense to you why doorway goodbyes would be filled with tears and how when Jungkook came back, instead of excitement she would feel relief – followed by a new wave of fear he’d leave again.

You stare at her – really look at her. A happy baby. Easy-going, loving and trusting. A peace about her that sometimes startles you when you leave her to play by herself for a couple of minutes and realize she’s awfully quiet; only to find her in her own little world, quietly babbling to herself and her ever-growing family of plushies. She’s got giggles and tickles and shrieks whenever she sees any sort of animal on the tv – real or animated.

She’s good, you think. She healed.

You know her world is small. Her hours seem shorter, days breezing by as she seems to grow up with every passing minute. Yet you can’t help but think how time truly did wonders for her.

Time and love.

You truly hope time is just as good with Jungkook.

Time, and yes – love.

By the time it takes you to get Soori cleaned up from lunch and into pyjamas, cozied up and tucked in bed, it’s nearing half past one. Jungkook hasn’t left his office since the morning after breakfast time was done for Soori, which is odd because he always makes sure he’s with her for lunch whenever he’s home – even if it’s just to make her a bottle and put her down for her nap. What’s even more worrying is he hasn’t eaten since either, and with his breakfasts consisting of coffee and whatever nibbles he can get out of Soori’s – it’s even more concerning.

You tidy up the kitchen, scroll through your phone aimlessly and when the clock marks 2 pm you worry enough to make your way to his office, gently knocking on the door in case he’s really submerged in something or on a call of some sort. When a couple of seconds go by and there’s no reply from the other side of the door, your overdramatic brain begins crafting stories of the worst-case scenario.

“Come in,” he says, making you sigh in relief.

You open the door, stepping inside and gently closing it behind you. “I thought you were dead.”

That makes his eyes snap from his computer to you in a millisecond, brow raised and a playful smirk adorning his features. “That’s extreme. Where’s Soori?”

“Napping.” You reply, walking closer to his desk.

“Shit- already? I lost track of time.”

“You have really bad eating habits.” Your voice is monotone, casual.

“I love it when you speak your mind,” he says, tone not entirely sarcastic. His eyes are glued back to the screen of his computer. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

“Me?”

He hesitates for a second, looking up as he says, “yes, you.”

“I don’t know how much I can help with whatever goes on at the other side of this desk but, sure.” You say as you make your way towards him.

“Why’d you say that? You’re very smart.”

His comment flusters you. “Tell me how I can be of service then.”

“I’m writing this speech for a charity event we’re hosting next week and, I don’t know. I feel like it sounds very impersonal. Sort of like- a template. I don’t like it.”

“Ah. Then yes, I can definitely help.”

“Come on, Maya Angelou. Time to shine.” He says, rolling slightly to the side on his big leather chair so you can take a better look at his computer, a half-written speech on the screen.

You lean forwards, hands resting on his desk as you bent some, eyes fixed on the document as you scan through the words, analysing them. He feels slightly exposed. He also feels an intractable impulse to sit you on his lap. Not to necessarily do anything too sinful just – hold you.

He decides to be gentlemanly instead.

“Here, sit down-” he begins, body halfway up as he begins to stand. You just wave your hand at him in dismissal, murmuring a string of no, no’s. You look very focused and Jungkook decides to leave you be, sitting back down on his chair.

From what you can take, it’s a charity event to gather funds for a school for blind and disabled children. It’s heartfelt and compassionate, at times a bit informal even. It makes you smile, thinking about how much it feels like you’re reading a journal entry – written by none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s good. I see what you mean, though, by trying to make it less impersonal. But I don’t think it’s impersonal at all. Whenever you want to transmit feelings whilst keeping your tone formal you do need some certain balance, though. Just so it doesn’t lose the tonality that makes up a speech. So, here- may I?” You say, fingers dancing close to the keyboard.

“Yes, yes. Of course,” he says.

You get to work, giving him pointers, asking him to write the sentence so you can twitch it a bit – expanding his vocabulary with fancy words that only end up making the speech more sincere. Approachable, as you say. By the third paragraph, he’s pretty much got it – having perfected it and added enough for it to be up to his standards.

“Thank you. I’ve never finished writing anything so quick in my life,” he tells you.

“You’re welcome. You should eat something,” you smile at him but it’s in a slightly patronizing way that makes his chest flutter when he realizes you worry about him.

“I will, I just- have to go through this one contract,” he returns.

“I thought you said you told everyone to take it easy today?”

“Yeah, them. Not me. It’s enough of a treat to be able to stay home, though.”

“Is the contract really long?” You’re stalling, not wanting to leave his side just yet.

“Yeah, look.” He places a stack of papers in front of him, bible-thick.

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

He snorts, head thrown back as it turns into laughter. “Yes – holy shit, alright. What’s even worst, look at the tiny font” he says, skimming through the pages.

You gasp, a bit more dramatically than intended. But it doesn’t stop there. “I’m sorry you have to sit through agonizing paperwork,” your voice is sweet and you bring your hand to his head, giving him a soft pat. Or at least that’s the original intention.

He keens into your touch, leaning his head to the side slightly. So, inevitably, you find yourself carding your fingers through his hair – caressing softly. It’s an innocent touch, you know it and Jungkook knows it, too. So, he pushes all impulses aside and gives into it. it’s comforting to say the least and soon enough he’s returning the affection with a harmless touch of his own as he runs his knuckles down the soft skin of your free hand that rests at your side.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low as he tries to remember exactly what he’s agreeing on.

“Still, you need to… recharge. Fuel and all that. Unwind,” you don’t mean for the last word to resemble a whimper but you can’t really stop it as it leaves you.

“Mhm. Your company helps though,” he says, sweet words matching his sweet face yet highly contrasting to the shadow that casts upon his gaze. Eyes dark with a hint of a glimmer in them.

“T-that’s good. I’m- glad. I can, um, get you something. To eat, I mean. You know, bring it here.” You offer, brain convincing you your voice sounded way more collected than it actually did.

He smiles. “No, that’s alright. Thank you, though.”

He just looks up, staring at you with that side smirk that makes your bones feel like jelly, bringing your hand closer to him as he laces his fingers with yours.

“You’re welcome.”

He simply hums, thumb caressing your hand ever so softly.

Slow. It’s written in both your gazes as your eyes lock with his, only missing them when you blink, a slow motion that makes your eyelids feel heavy with every passing second.

Slow. The same way he pulls you closer. Close enough to step between his legs before you instinctively fall into his touch completely, sitting on his lap.

Slow. Just like your touch as the hand that isn’t still intwined in his cups his cheek, stroking softly – slowly.

Slow. In the way he smiles, face relaxing as he leans into your touch, eyes closing as he basks in the feeling of your hands on his skin.

Slow. Like the words that fall from your lips as you say, “let me take care of you.”

Jungkook sighs, eyes fluttering once, then twice before he nods. Rationality catching up with him way too slowly to deny you.

Your hands snake past the collar of his shirt, eyes locking with his as he shudders under your touch. Your nails scraping lightly at the warm skin on his shoulders before you dig your fingers into the flesh. He tenses for a second before his whole body finally relaxes, melting into the chair as he lets out a faint moan – hand firmly squeezing at your hip before it lands on your ass.

“You know – it’s growing on me,” your fingers dance over his chest, nails brushing softly as they land on his sternum, “your lounge set.”

“Is that why you want to take it off of me?” He asks, raising his brows, a lopsided smirk forming at his lips when he feels your fingers work his buttons undone.

You let out a soft chuckle. “Not necessarily.”

“Hm, fine,” he lets outs a soft whimper when you release the last button, pausing for a second to take in his reaction before your hand travels upwards, running over his toned abdomen. His skin is so tan – so golden, you salivate at the sight. “I’ll believe you.”

His pretty eyes fall shut, lids heavy as his focus fixates on the way your hands feel as they run through his skin – like wood to a fire, only making his own flame burn brighter for you. Hotter. Your hand settles over his chest, right on top of his heart and he’s positive you can feel it beating in your palm as his breathing starts to pick up at the promise of you.

Jungkook’s brain isn’t necessarily going places of where said promise will land. In fact, he didn’t really know what your words entitled when he agreed to them. But it sure as hell shocks him like a punch to the gut when he feels your touch faltering, hand falling lazily on his lower stomach as your movements follow and he immediately misses your proximity. In slight disbelief and disappointment, he opens his eyes, mouth instinctively forming a pout that doesn’t quite see completion when he sees you shifting your weight onto the floor, settling between his open legs. He nearly chokes on his spit, the peaceful trance your touch had him on long lost as you bite your lip, eyes pleading what your words don’t. You’re waiting – that innocent look masking your sinful thoughts as you leave his fate in his own hands.

And once again, Jungkook can’t deny you. Not when you look like that. Not when he’s craved you since the very moment he had his first taste of you – of that one thing he didn’t know he wanted so much. The one thing he dared think rationality could triumph, only to be hit with the realization that whatever magnetic pull draws you to him is bigger than him and all his self-control combined. So, he lets his hand cup your cheek, fingers closing around your jaw, skimming through your skin until his thumb presses on your bottom lip. You never once shift your gaze from him, even when his own travels to your mouth as it parts slightly, enough to let his thumb hook itself between your teeth as your tongue circles around it. His face contorts in pleasure, upper lip tugging up before his teeth pulls his bottom one in.

You lean forward, fingers running teasingly over the waistband of his pants.

He hisses, tummy caving in at the feeling. “Don’t tease,” he warns.

“I’m not. Just going slow,” you say, faux innocence lacing your tone.

His laugh is throaty and it hitches in his chest when he feels your palm close around the outline of his clothed cock. It throbs and thickens in your hold as you squeeze, gripping him firmly, a moan escaping his lips at the sudden contact. The sound lands right in the pit of your stomach and your fingers hook inside the waistband of his pants, tugging his briefs along as you drag them down until they pool around his ankles. His cock jerks as it sits across his pelvis and a deep groan ripples straight out of his chest as your hand wraps around it and your tongue licks a thick strip from base to tip before you’re hollowing your cheeks and sucking frivolously around the head.

“Ngh- fuck, baby. Fuck.” His voice is strained and raspy, hand tangling in your hair as he tugs on it slightly.

He feels even bigger around your mouth than he did in your hand, sitting heavy on your tongue as you rasp for air. Your hand pumps at his shaft, stimulating the places your tongue can’t reach as the tip moves in rapid, controlled movements over his frenulum, making him gasp – the airy little sound lilting at the end, turning into a moan.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, breaths coming out erratically and his chest heaves as your mouth closes around his cock once again, head picking up pace at the push and pull of your mouth – the back of your throat tempting his tip more and more with every thrust.

“Like that, baby. Fuck. Take it all,” and that’s enough incentive for you to sink your warm mouth all the way in, making his cock pulse as you gag around the head a couple of times before your throat closes around it in swallowing motions. His mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes fighting to stay open as he feels the way your mouth suctions around him, sending him to heaven and back. He’s never seen anything so heavenly take on a lewd act like this – sin in your eyes, and sin in the way you moan in utter pleasure when you finally release his cock from the tight constraints of your throat, gasping for air as thick teardrops fall from your eyes all the way down your pretty face.

His thumb swipes them away. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re so good, so fucking- mmm,” his praises are interrupted as you wrap your tongue around his tip, circling languidly as your eyes look up at him, pleading him to go on. “Feels so fucking good. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock, angel.”

You moan, the vibrations making his hips buck and tighten his grip on your hair as you lower yourself on him all the way, repeating that same menacing action, only this time with more intention – determined to have him unravelling under you, milking his cock and taking him impossibly lower as you move your head in sharp little thrusts, accommodating him until your gag reflex is non-existent.

“Shit- don’t stop, don’t stop- you’re gonna make me cum, ___.” His head is thrown back, eyes tightly shut as he bites onto his lip with enough harshness to level him back into the moment, forcing him to look at you again. You’re a fucking sight to behold – that much his head can grasp in its hazy, fucked-out state. It confuses him slightly, how he can feel that tug in his heart whenever your eyes meet his and you hold his gaze, your pretty lips wrapped around his fat cock like the dream that you are. The way it makes his heart rate pick up until he can feel it travel to his stomach, the feeling lacing around the tight knot that forms there as he begins to tip over the edge.

That’s what makes him lose it – the total adoration he feels for you right this moment as you work his cock with your warm, wet tongue, reading him perfectly and complying. Completely surrendered to aiding his pleasure, his responsiveness only adding to yours. That insane need to feel you closer going beyond the physical as your connection deepens and he can feel it. He can see it in your eyes and he has no hints of a doubt you see it in his as you return that same adoration his gaze holds. His cock kicks against your tongue and he hisses out a moan, head falling to the side as he takes you in, mouth agape as that knot snaps inside of him.

“Baby, baby,” he warns, tapping his fingers gently on your cheek. You simply sigh, mouth full of him as you take him impossibly deeper. “Oh fuck. Ffuck- I’m cumming, I’m-”

You can feel the way his cock spurts string after string of his release, straight into your throat, cock twitching as you milk him – his moans only enticing you further as you swallow every last drop. Your tongue licks at his crown as you give his shaft languid pumps and his head falls forwards, mouth parted in awe as he rides the bliss you’ve just bestowed upon him. He’s absolutely wrecked but he doesn’t want you to stop – not even as his body cringes in oversensitivity and he’s whimpering, the hand in your hair tugging slightly as he pulls you away. He stares at you, intently.

“That was so good, baby. You’re so good,” he tells you, fingers caressing at your scalp.

“Koo,” you whisper, gasping slightly as he stands up, holding you by the arms as you follow and your knees give out once your feet touch the ground.

“Yes, baby?” His voice is low as he walks you backwards until your hands grip at his desk, one of his legs snaking between yours and pushing them apart until you’re sitting on top of the cold surface.

“I-I like to be good. For you,” your voice shakes, demeanour taking on a submissiveness that you find inevitable when he has you like this – legs trembling even though he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Is that so, baby?” You nod. “I know you do. And you are,” he says.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh.

“And you know what?” He asks, fingers cupping around your face.

“W-what?”

“Good girls get rewards.”

You moan, audibly and loud, right in his face – lips parting as his grip around your jaw tightens. “Yes, please. I want you. I want you so bad,” you cry.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes.”

He brings your face closer to his, lips pressing against yours in a needy, sloppy kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth and licking at your own as your teeth clink, heads leaning to the side. So wanting – so deeply surrendered to your impulses and the very root of your desires.

It lasts a good minute, the two of you bubbled up in your little world – the same one where boundaries come to die and slow takes on a new form. Where little exists besides you and him.

And the way it starts – slowly, tentatively – is not the same way it ends, as you’re abruptly taken out of the moment. The bubble bursting in a split second as both your phones ding repeatedly, the baby monitor notifying you Soori is in the early stages of waking up, signalling you have approximately three minutes to make it to the nursery before she’s fully awake.

“Fuck.” You say, hit with reality.

“It’s okay. I’ll go get her, don’t worry.” He reassures, his hand on your face taking on a softer touch.

“Okay. I’ll be right there in a minute.”

“Take your time,” he says before placing a soft peck to your cheek.

Slow is hell, yes. Even when it’s heavenly.

You do as he says and take your time in the bathroom. You comb through your hair, brush your teeth and even re-apply your mascara; you’d made a mess of it with his cock down your throat and the hefty splash of cold water you threw on your face as to calm down the buzz that still ran through your body.

The ache between your legs beats you, though. No idea on how to even begin to tame it down. At least not in an appropriate way.

You stare at the mirror – finally presentable from the outside but a whirlwind of chaotic sexual frustration on the inside that doesn’t really escape your eyes. You try to remember the breathing exercises feel-the-tingle-in-your-core lady has been trying to teach you for the past three days. They work – your heart rate finally calming down and breathing steading back to normal in inhale and exhale motions. You still feel the tingle in your core, though – and not the spiritual one.

When you finally make it out of the bathroom, the house feels eerily quiet and you assume Jungkook and Soori are in the kitchen. You fix your dress, taking a deep breath as you begin to make your way to them.

“Heeey,” Jungkook coos at Soori when you step into the kitchen. “Look who’s here, baby.”

Her big, round eyes are red and she sniffles back some crocodile tears, rubbing her little hands on her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, princess?” You say, rounding the kitchen counter until you’re finally face to face with her.

“She woke up a little fussy. I think she had a nightmare.” Jungkook explains, lips smooching at her temple.

“Oh, no, baby girl. Do you want cuddles and Animal Planet?” You ask her and the soft of your voice is enough for her to fall straight into your arms. You hug her to you, gently swaying her from side to side when she nuzzles her head in your shoulder.

“I’ll be right there; I’m just heating up some noodles.” He tells you and you nod, making your way to the living room.

You get her nice and comfy, propping her up in the middle of the couch in her favourite pillow – the one she used to lay on when she was smaller, having now outgrown the habit as she becomes more mobile. She loves it nonetheless, though, and she lays on her side, face nuzzling against the plush fabric as she brings her pacifier to her mouth. Her fingers play with her little ears – something you notice she does to soothe herself.

You turn the Animal Planet on, relieved when you see today’s special is a documentary on sea turtles. Soori friendly – no lions devouring emus, as much as she seems to not mind it. You run your fingers over her silky hair and smile when she sighs at the feel of the comforting gesture.

Jungkook joins the two of you a minute later, sitting next to Soori as he watches the documentary intently – seemingly immersed in the importance to preserve the sea turtles. He slurps his noodles and you’re ashamed to admit the noise is doing you zero favours – everything just triggering that ball of tension in your gut.

“So,” he whispers when he’s sure Soori is fully engrossed in The Animal Planet. “Slow is hard.”

You scoff at the irony his sentence holds and Jungkook can tell you’re wind up. Not necessarily angry, just… frustrated.

“Yeah, you don’t say.” Is all you return, eyes still glued to the screen of the big TV.

“Are you… okay?” He asks and you hate how it immediately registers in your brain – what he’s referring to.

“Yeah, but can we please not talk about it?”

He doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub together for a second before you’re crossing your legs, breath picking up a notch. It sends a jolt straight to his gut and then south.

“I’m sorry, ___,” his voice sounds fallen and when you meet his gaze you notice his face is, too.

“It’s not your fault, Gguk. It’s okay. I just think that, maybe we should… figure this whole slow thing out because we seem to be awful at following whatever unspoken rule it entails.”

“Yes. Yes, I agree. That’s why I was thinking that maybe… we could go on a date.” His words are firm, like he just came up with the world’s brightest idea.

“A date?” Your voice gets that dreamy nature that characterizes you so well and, in that moment, he genuinely believes he has, in fact, come up with the world’s brightest idea.

“Yes. We said we wanted to get to know each other. I don’t think we’ve had much time to do that. And I want to do that – so, so badly, ___.”

“Me too.” You admit. “But I mean… how will that help? If anything, I think it’d just worsen our… situation regarding the slow.”

“I think that it’s a good step towards the right direction. Also, a good opportunity to actually take it slow – just enjoy each other’s companies. I like talking to you. I can do that for one evening, no problem.” You don’t miss the way his features soften, cheeks blushing at his sudden outburst of honesty.

You smile. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Why don’t you come over on Saturday? Soori goes down at 7. You can come over at 7:30 – I’ll cook.”

“Noodles?” You tease.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Done deal.”

Saturday rolls around faster than you’d expect considering the things we look forward to the most seem to be the furthest away. But, to your luck, this one breezes in – welcomed by none other than Elton John himself as he serenades you into wakefulness.

“Elton,” you say, still half asleep. “I’m going on a date today.”

You have a smile on your face, bringing the covers over you and cozying up in the warmth of your bed.

Your eyes snap open.

“Elton, I’m going on a date today.”

This time the statement takes on a less dreamy pitch. In fact, you sound straight up terrified. You can feel the butterflies take on their routine flight in your tummy – fluttering more erratically than usual.

The thing about Jungkook is that he has a way of making things feel so right. Your mind automatically eases itself around him better than with any failed attempt at meditating. When he says things, it’s always in such a reassuring manner – you used to think it was just the dad in him coming out. But in reality, you’ve realized he simply embodies confidence through and through.

When he suggested you two go on a date you didn’t hesitate once. And even though you tried to suppress it, you felt like a silly little schoolgirl at the prospect of seeing him in such context. On a date. Just the two of you.

It still feels right. So good. You’re excited, you are. But you also can’t help but feel nervous.

“Oh God, Elton. Help,” you don’t necessarily know why you’re asking for help but you’re also talking to Elton John, who keeps blasting Tiny Dancer through the speakers of your phone so, the cause was hopeless from the beginning. “Oh my God. What do I wear?”

You sulk for a minute longer in bed, finally deducting that the prior does no good.

It’s just a date.

In his home.

The one you’re highly familiar with.

It’s just Jungkook.

Fuck. It’s Jungkook.

You get out of bed, giving your head a little shake to finally wake your body up, deciding to finalize it with some coffee. You can smell it already – only a few steps away in your tiny, cozy kitchen, brewed by the heavenly hands of your loving best friend.

“Lucy Lu-” the sight before you cuts your song short as you yelp in surprise, definitely not expecting to see a shirtless Jimin behind your kitchen counter, coffee pot in hand.

“___!” He greets, shooting a big smile your way as he pours some coffee into your favourite jar, making you frown.

“Hi…,” you shouldn’t be surprised, he is dating your best friend after all. But you’re (secretly) dating his and this is all too close for comfort.

He’s talking but you’re not listening, too enthralled by your own train of thought. You only register his last words. “– Like Ggukie.”

“What.” It’s not a question.

“Um… your coffee? Iced Americano, right?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes. Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You say as you take the coffee from his hands, your favourite jar back in your possession.

“Headed to the library?” He asks, sipping on his warm cup of coffee.

“Yeah, in a little bit.”

“Was that Tiny Dancer I heard?”

“Yup. It’s better than Marimba.”

“You do have a point there,” he gives. “What are you doing later? Wanna catch a movie with us?”

You don’t lie.

You hate lying.

Not because you think lies will send you straight to hell the way your mom made you believe when you were growing up.

Simply because you do it so badly.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to catch a movie with you guys.”

“Oh,” Jimin is confused and it’s evident all over his face. You’ve never been anything but nice to him – in fact, at times it takes him by surprise just how nice you are.

“Yeah, sorry. I just hate the movies.” You add, because of course, why not make it worse with another awfully executed lie. Who hates the movies?

“Oh. Well, we can do something else? Maybe grab some dinner? Drinks? There’s this new pizza place Lucy has been wanting to try-”

“No, I’m… tired. From the week. I think I’ll have an early night tonight. Thank you for the offer though!” You slur the last of that sentence before you’re downing your coffee. Jimin winces, that’s definitely gonna kick in way too fast.

“No worries-”

“Gotta go get ready! Bye!”

You scurry the short steps back to your room, closing the door abruptly once you’re inside.

Jimin laughs.

He can’t help but wonder just why you would tell Elton John about your mysterious date tonight yet avoid telling him at all costs.

You and Jungkook’s front door have been through hell and back together. You can’t even begin to count the number of feelings your face has perfectly mirrored right in front of this very door.

Your eyes turn to the doorbell. You huff, laughing a little to yourself as you think of the first time you stood outside his home – in total awe, yet absolutely crucifying his use of top-notch technology on something so mundane like a doorbell.

You feel nervous. But you also feel so, so happy.

You don’t understand just why it’s taking you so long to press your finger into the screen and ring for him.

Because the anticipation is sweet, your heart tells you. Because you put on your favourite dress tonight – just for him. Because waiting the minute between ringing the doorbell and finally seeing him is going to be torture in the best way possible. Because you could write ten thousand poems on this moment alone.

You ring on the doorbell.

You let out a long exhale, swaying back and forth a little as you wait.

Your aforementioned prediction was wrong. It takes him much less than a minute to open his front door.

“Hi,” you tell him, voice sweet and an even sweeter smile following.

He doesn’t care that he’s probably acting a fool right now, just standing there – staring. He does it anyways. You look so beautiful. So soft and gentle. Your dress is silky, a pastel green colour that looks so good with the tan of your skin. It falls past your shoulders, tying at the middle of your chest. It’s a bit shorter than the ones he’s used to seeing you in and your duality hits him once again. Your hair cascades over your shoulders in soft curls – also a new sight for him.

He can’t help it when he speaks his mind.

“You are so beautiful.”

It’s not you look so beautiful in Jungkook’s book. No. You’re just beautiful and he wonders why he doesn’t greet you like this every day.

“So are you,” you tell him, a soft giggle passing your lips as you grow shy at his words.

His dress shirt is white and clean, but it takes on a more relaxed feel with the collarless fit and the soft blue of his jeans.

“Come in,” he says, stepping to the side as you walk inside his home. He notices you’re holding a knitted, yellow mesh bag. “What’s in there?”

“Oh!” You begin, excitedly. “I got Soori some books from the library. These are great to learn new words. And I got us dessert.”

“Thank you,” he presses a kiss against your lips, growing soft over the fact you still think about Soori, even when today is about you two.

“You’re welcome. Do you like peaches?”

“Yes, why?”

“Peaches and cream!” You say, bringing the bag closer to his line of vision as he makes out the plump shape of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re a fruit for dessert type of person.”

“Hey, they’re in season.” You argue, that pout he loves back on your lips. “Plus, don’t even start with me. You’re a cheese for dessert type of person.”

“What’s wrong with cheese for dessert?”

“I’d try to explain it to you but it’s a lost cause considering you’re also a lounge set type of person.”

He laughs, loud and airy, making your heart flutter at having that effect on him.

“I’m a sweet things for dessert type of person.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You joke as you follow his lead to the kitchen, hand in his. “It smells so good. What’s for dinner, Chef?”

He clears his throat. “Crispy honey orange glazed salmon.”

You gasp. “Oh me, oh my.”

“With my famous oven roasted rosemary potatoes,” he says, walking you closer to the oven so you can see them cooking. “Oh. And a kale and walnut salad.” He winks.

“Oh my God, you can actually cook.”

“It comes naturally,” he brags. “Well, that and a hidden passion for The Cooking Channel.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Like me any less for it?”

You chuckle, walking closer to him. “Not one bit.”

Your kiss is soft, like your arms in his hands when they caress your skin. And for the first time since you’ve agreed on slow, Jungkook actually enjoys it. It makes something jump at his insides when he thinks about how it feels like tonight, he has all the time in the world with you.

“I thought we could eat outside? The weather’s so nice.”

“I’d love that.”

You help him plate the food – garnishing it a little the way Lucy has taught you and he gasps in surprise, genuinely paying attention as you ramble on about the wonders of little green leaves and how you like your food more when it’s photogenic.

“Please, stop reminding me you grew up with the internet,” he tells you, closing his eyes dramatically as you tell him about your secret food rating Instagram account.

“Do you like me any less for it?” You ask, mimicking his previous words.

“Not one bit,” he kisses you. “But stop reminding me.”

You laugh. “Let’s eat, dad. You’re lucky I don’t rate my friend’s foods – you’d be breaking under pressure right now.”

Even though he laughs at your remarks he doesn’t miss the way you say friends.

He doesn’t know exactly what feelings the word stirs inside of him but he finds himself pondering on it for a little longer than usual. Technically, he is your friend. It’s a twisted thought, all things considered, but he can’t really deny it.

Why does it make him feel slightly uneasy, then?

The set-up is simple but you don’t miss the romantic atmosphere that clouds upon the space.

Jungkook’s backyard is illuminated by dim, yellow lights. Besides the blue water of the pool that you can make out at the far end, not a lot picks up colour, enclosing the two of you in a comforting darkness. Two tall, white candles sit in the middle of the table – shining direct light onto the two of you, shadows dancing with the flames.

The food is delicious and the wine is rich with hints of sweet cherry and even though you’ve never gravitated towards red it slowly becomes your favourite – forever tied up to this memory.

“Why literature?”

Your answer comes without hesitation. “Why love?”

“Is all literature a work of love?”

“To some extent.”

“But some of it is about pain. Life. Loss. Anger.”

“All emotions romanticised in order to tell a story.”

He looks at you for a moment but you don’t shy away from his gaze once. He likes the courage you take on when you talk about the things you love.

“Do you write about me?”

That does it, eyes lost for a second before they fixate on the slow dancing flame of the candle in front of you.

“I do.”

“In what romanticised emotion?”

“All of them,” you sigh.

He smiles. “I wish I could write about you.”

“Why?”

“I think I’m understanding it now. The need to encapsulate memories in order to not forget them.”

“When a memory is good it never truly fades.”

“Yes, but when it feels like this you want to hold on to every last detail.”

“I’ll write about it. I’ll write enough words for the two of us.”

After dinner, you two take on different tasks to tidy up the kitchen as fast as possible. It’s nice, the conversation you had at the table never lost – just a more casual continuation of it.

Jungkook is funny, kind. At times he speaks with the wonder and softness of a weightless soul and your heart is still trying to digest that information – the notion that he is so lovable tugging at every last string.

“Wanna watch a movie as we eat your peaches and cream?” He asks, passing you a clean plate as you dry it with a towel.

“Keep up the attitude and I will eat them all.”

He chuckles. “What do you want to watch, baby?”

“Something scary.”

That takes him by surprise. “What?”

“Yeah!”

You begin reciting all of your favourite horror movies to him – a keen interest for the psychological thrillers.

“Ooh, ooh! Should we watch The Orphan? It’s about- no. I’m not telling you. I’ll ruin the whole thing,” you say.

He stares at you for a minute, slightly dumbfounded. “We can watch whatever you want.”

“The Orphan it is!”

Jungkook has never felt more on edge throughout a movie in his entire life.

And for someone who claims to love spooky movies (your words, not his) you sure do jump and shriek a whole lot through the majority of the film.

But, like a teenage boy, Jungkook enjoys how scared you get – taking advantage of it and wrapping you in his arms, keeping you safely tucked in his hold.

Your legs are thrown over his lap and your head rests on top of his chest and you’re all over. You’re all over and he loves it all. The way you smell and the way your voice resonates on his chest as you comment on the movie. The way your skin shivers when his hand moves mindlessly over your arm at times. It all feels so good to Jungkook. So right.

By the time the credits roll in, darkening the screen and the room, your bodies are tangled together. As the movie reached its climax, Jungkook’s body had fallen on top of yours, legs lacing around your own and head resting on top of your chest as your fingers ran through his scalp gently.

“That was wild. You watch this for fun?” He asks, body not moving an inch, completely melted under your touch.

You yawn, giggling a little at the way his words are muffled by the way his cheek presses on your chest. “Hey, you got really into it towards the end.”

“Yeah, because the orphan was a thirty-two-year-old, whack-out-of-her-mind loonie!” He looks up at you. “You sleepy?”

“A little. I should probably head home.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’m taking the bus,” you tell him, fingers falling from his hair to his cheek.

“It’s late…,” his face softens. “You can always stay here.”

You pause for a second. “You sure?”

He is. Tonight proved a lot to Jungkook. New depths attached to his feelings that he slightly shies away from – the intensity throwing him aback. But nonetheless he gets a glimpse of them and at surface level. He enjoys them.

It also proved that you guys can be close without tempting slow in a dangerous way. I mean just look at the two of you – bodies lost in one another without crossing any lines.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives you a tender smile, his warmth leaving you as he gets up from the couch, hand outstretched for you to take. “Come on, let’s get you some warm clothes. We can watch The Cooking Channel to rub The loonie Orphan off.”

You stand in the middle of his closet, a bit overwhelmed by its grandness. You are shit at dimensions but you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your room.

“How many black and white shirts can one person own?” You ask, eyes widening as he changes into sweatpants and an oversized white shirt.

“Just pick something already, baby.”

“You pick. And it’s okay if you want to give me your least favourite shirt – I’ve done that with my friends, too.”

There goes that word again.

He brushes it to the side, standing in front of the tall railings and rummaging through his clothes

“Here,” he says, passing you a soft, white hoodie and matching sweatpants.

“Thank- is this Balenciaga?”

“___, just put it on. Let’s go to bed.”

You oblige, discarding your dress and stepping into the sweatsuit, rolling the waistband a couple of times until they don’t fall around your hips, basking in the coziness of the oversized sweatshirt around your frame.

He stands in front of the sink, passing you an extra toothbrush and squeezing some toothpaste over the bristles before he does the same with his own.

You two just stand there, brushing your teeth and staring at each other on the reflection of the mirror, smiling quickly before both your eyes divert – suddenly shy at the intimacy of the action.

He’s done first, pressing his lips on your cheek before he exits the bathroom, letting you know he’s going to check on Soori one last time before bed.

Once you’re done, you rinse your mouth, staring at yourself in the mirror for a couple of seconds. If you let it, your mind will roam to faraway places, digging into every corner this moment holds. You don’t let it. Simply taking it for what it is and letting yourself enjoy it.

His bed is big and you don’t really know which one is his side so, a little dubious, you opt for simply sitting right in the middle of it, crossing your legs as you fidget with your fingers – waiting for him.

When Jungkook steps inside his bedroom, he makes a mental note to remember this sight.

He likes it a little too much, he realizes.

You smile at him when you see him and he returns it, walking towards the bed.

“Which is your side? Are you a one side of the bed person or an in the middle or a don’t really care-” you’re rambling, a tell-tale sign that lets Jungkook know that you’re nervous. He laughs, making you pout as you stop talking.

“Left side. You?”

You shrug. “I like the middle.”

His knees sink into the mattress as he walks himself closer to you.

“It’s all yours,” he says, coming to hover over you.

“T-thanks,” you look up at him, eyes meeting his.

“You’re welcome,” he tucks a strand of fallen hair behind your ear, his touch sweet. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re really hot.”

Your honesty makes him laugh. “Is that all there is to me?” He teases.

You roll your eyes. “It’s not and you know it.”

His smirk is playful, contrasting the sweetness in his features. “You’re really hot, too.”

“Jungkook…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I-I think we should play The Cooking Channel a-and go to bed n-now.”

He inches closer as you shuffle your body backwards slightly.

“Or what?”

“I’m not gonna want to stop.”

Out of every answer he could’ve expected the boldness of your choice of words falls far in the list. He raises one eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side.

“I like you, ___. I like you so much.”

“I like you, too.”

“And I don’t want to stop either.”

Your hands fly to his stomach, fisting at the soft fabric of his shirt with force, pulling him towards you until he falls in between your legs, arms quickly holding his body from crashing against yours as they press on the mattress at either side of your head.

Once he’s got a steady hold on his body, he lowers his head to yours, lips finally finding your own – kissing you slowly and deep, savouring every stroke of your tongue as it finds his. Your fingers tangle on his dark locks, using the leverage to push him closer to you, every touch letting him know just how much you want him – how much you need him.

He pulls away, smiling a little at the way you whine when he does. His hands fly to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up as you pull your arms over your head, making it easier for him to slide the fabric off of you. You’re not wearing a bra and it’s a pleasant surprise – one he doesn’t waste a second on as his lips close around your nipple, hand kneading at your other breast. Your back arches, a fistful of hair in your hold as you tug harshly, lost in pleasure. He hisses at the feeling, a deep groan following as he circles his tongue over the perk flesh.

Your hips raise from the bed, rutting into his as your desire begins to unravel further – a build up so slow until it snaps, bursting inside of you all at once, manifesting all through your body as it grows headier for him. He moans as your hips push into him once again, lowering his body to yours and pushing until you can feel every inch of him – legs spreading wider as you chase that friction, feeling his big cock thickening against your clothed pussy. You can feel his impressive girth and length even over the layers and the contact, paired with his incessant assault on your tits, has you moaning and squirming under him.

“Jungkook- please,” you beg, hazy minded.

He looks up at you, dark eyes meeting yours. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Y-you, please. Just- I need you.”

“You got me, baby.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, his body begins to lower – lips attached to your skin as they travel from your chest, down your stomach that caves in at the feeling of his tongue as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses until they finally reach just above the waistband of his sweatpants. His grin widens as he notices the scrunched-up fabric. You look down at him, wishing you could humour him yet too lost in how the sight of him between your legs like that will be engraved in your mind forever. You whimper – he looks so sinful, tongue running over his bottom lip as his eyes darken. Your hips buck involuntarily.

“Easy, angel.” He says, the timbre of his voice so deep it has you clenching around nothing.

You nod, lost for words as the anticipation builds up, making you grow excited as his fingers hook inside your pants. He brings your legs up as he comes to stand back on his knees, tugging at the fabric until they’re finally off and he’s discarding them, throwing them mindlessly to the side. Your legs are outstretched over his torso and his head turns to the side before he’s kissing your calves. Your chest flutters at the tenderness of the action, that gentleness never leaving him.

His hands run down the back of your thighs, sending goosebumps all through your body as you fidget under his touch, a faint whimper falling past your lips. He places your legs back on the bed gently, feet pressing on the mattress as your thighs fall open instinctively. He stares at you and there’s something in his gaze you’ve never seen before – a hunger that intimidates you, making you shy away from his darkening eyes, closing your legs quickly.

“Why do you hide, baby?” His hands rest on your knees, thumb running over them softly.

“I’m- embarrassed,” you say timidly.

“Why?”

“I-I’m so wet.”

“Oh, baby.”

He doesn’t miss another beat as his hands work your legs open, falling back to the bed on his stomach when you comply. You’re wearing a pair of silky white panties and once he comes face to face with your covered mound, he can see the wet patch that adorns the middle. He bites his lip, running a knuckle over it tentatively, pressing softly on your clit. He’s pleased when you squirm, hips circling under his touch, the prettiest moan escaping your lips.

“Let me fix it,” he says, looking at you.

You nod, carding your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little as the air grows thick around you. Your panties follow the same fate as the rest of your clothes, joining the pile somewhere on his floor.

Jungkook moans. He moans when your legs open up for him, pussy in full display – lips plump and glistening from your build up arousal. His lips press over your slit in a soft but firm kiss that escalates as his tongue comes past it and licks a wet stripe right over your entrance all the way up to your clit, parting your folds open for him.

“Oh my God,” you cry, hands flying up, fist closing around the pillows.

You taste so fucking sweet on his tongue, your juices already dripping down his chin as his lips close around your clit, sucking on it until your legs are closing around his head and your hips are rutting against his face. He pulls away, a lewd sound resonating past his lips as your little nub throbs at the loss of his mouth. He parts your legs further, giving you a warning look as he does so. He settles back down between your legs, making you yelp as his tongue teases your entrance, pressing further with every lick between your folds.

“You’re so sweet, taste so fucking good,” he says, mouth never leaving your cunt.

“A sweet things for dessert type of guy, huh?” You muster one final ounce of wittiness before the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you has you crying out in pleasure.

“The sweetest fucking thing.” The sound of his voice right against your pussy mixed with the squelching as he attacks your heat doubles as pornographic, and has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He adds a second finger after a couple of pumps, mercilessly sucking on your clit – your walls swallowing his digits further with every stroke of that spot inside of you that has you dangerously close to the edge.

His fingers slide out of you, coming up to spread your pussy open for him until he can see your clit pulsing, swollen and exposed for him. You whine when he softly blows over it, the feeling so intense you’re afraid it’ll have you cumming in a second if he keeps it up. But Jungkook shows mercy – lowering his head and closing his lips perfectly around your engorged clit. You can feel it so much more intensely, every quick suck as he keeps your folds parted, giving him better access to that bundle of nerves.

“Oh- oh my fucking God. I’m gonna cum- fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

You’re a mess, feeling delirious as you feel your body tensing at the wake of your orgasm.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my tongue,” he coaxes, shoving two fingers inside of you as he wastes no time hooking up and pressing them against your g-spot as he feels your walls fluttering around them. “Cum all around my fingers.”

Your eyes snap wide open at the sudden intrusion and it’s about a second later that your orgasm spreads all through you in waves – pleasure settling in different parts of your body as you shake, pussy closing around his fingers in fast little pulses, so intensely he can feel it against his tongue. His movements never stop, pace only picking up as you cum, hard and loud.

“T-too much,” you say, body twitching as you begin to come down.

His body settles back between your legs, hands softly cupping your cheek as your body finally relaxes, falling into that post orgasmic bliss. He kisses you – slow and sweet, adding to the overall high that takes over you. You feel so good – every inch of your skin tingles slightly, mind still cloudy from the pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you purr and he hums against your mouth. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. Those dirty words don’t match that pretty face,” he says, face falling to the crook of your neck as he breathes heavily.

There are many things Jungkook wants to do to you right now. About a thousand different ways he’d take you – especially when you sound so compliant, totally surrendered to him. But right now, he just wants you close. He wants to feel your body under him, to be able to run his hands all over it as he elicits those pretty sounds from your lips. He wants to be able to swallow them all.

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he hums against your lips.

“Off,” you say, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

His body comes up, weight resting back on his feet as he takes his shirt off. He looks so soft like this – so dreamy. You don’t miss the way his demeanour changes, how that smirk turns into a lazy smile as he runs his hand down your leg until it lands back on your cunt. He fucks two of his fingers into you, the action has more intention this time as he scissors them inside of you, spreading your walls open for his cock. He bites his lip as he watches your face contort in pleasure, his dick jerking inside its restraints in anticipation.

He pecks your lips as his fingers slide out of you, crawling towards the edge of the bed as he comes to a stand. Your arm stretches in his direction, missing him already, pout forming at your lips as you beckon for him.

He chuckles softly as he bends over, rummaging through the second drawer on his nighstand. He stands back up, closing it with his knee as he throws a single foil packet and a bottle of lube on the bed.

You reach for both, your fingers playing with the condom wrapper as your eyes never leave him – watching intently as his fingers hook on the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down alongside his black Calvin’s, promptly kicking them out of the way before he’s crawling back to you.

He finds that spot back between your legs again, eyes locking with yours before he’s kissing you. You lean your head to the side, happy with how familiar you’ve grown with the rhythm of his lips. It’s intoxicating – the way it feels. So addictive as you push your tongue past his lips, running it over the back of his teeth, biting on his lip, sucking on his tongue. You’re greedy – needing to feel around him all.

He pulls away, settling back on his legs as he reaches for the bottle of lube, lathering some down the length of his middle and ring finger before he’s pushing them inside of you once again.

He presses on that spot, particularly sensitive after your previous orgasm and you hiss, hand closing around his wrist. “Stop, stop. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” His lips tug at the side of his mouth in a loopy grin.

“I want to cum around your big cock, Jungkook.”

“Fuck,” he presses on your spot again, “I love your filthy little mouth.”

You moan, eyes closing shut as you frantically pat on the bed at your side, looking for the condom you’d discarded on the sheets. Once you finally find it, you bring it to your mouth, pressing down on the round shape of the latex as you tear it open with your teeth.

“C’mere,” you purr and his body falls on top of yours once again, fingers still thrusting in and out of you slowly.

He whimpers when your small hand wraps around his cock, eyes falling to take in the sight. You pump at his shaft languidly with one hand, collecting his precum and spreading it around his length before your other one lowers, rolling the condom on, pinching at the tip slightly as you secure the latex around his base. He reaches for the bottle of lube once again, popping it open with his teeth before he lathers a generous amount onto his cock and down your slit, spreading it with his fingers. You’re so wet it’s starting to feel uncomfortable, but you know you’re going to need all the help you can get as your snug walls accommodate to his size.

His body lowers to yours, legs opening your own further apart as he lines his cock over your entrance.

“Ready, angel?”

You nod, arms snaking around his waist. “Go slow,”

“I will, baby.”

He kisses you one last time, lips hovering above yours as he begins to sink the head of his cock inside of you. You wince against his lips, the burn spreading all through your core as you take the first couple of inches. His thumb circles around your clit, easing the tension that builds around your body, helping you relax around him.

“You’re s-so big, Koo.” Your voice is a faint whisper that gets lost in between soft mewls.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good for me.” His voice is soft but strained and you can tell it’s taking all the strength in him not to ram into your tight cut as your walls swallow him in with every inch he sinks into you.

He’s so thick and you feel so full, arms tightening around his waist and toes curling at the sharp pain of having him fully inside of you as he bottoms out.

“Oh, f-fuck. You feel so good around me, fuck.” He praises, lips pressed to your cheek as his breath quickens.

You kiss him, hips raising up after a while to meet his and he hisses into your mouth at the feeling, pulling out slowly only to thrust back into you as he begins to spread you open with his cock with every push and pull. The pain starts to dance around with pleasure as his pace picks up, both your moans getting lost in one another’s as his forehead presses onto yours – face to face with every single expression and every little sound his thrusts emit out of you.

“I l-love your cock. I love your cock s-so much, Jungkook. Fuck- God,” your words drag out, pausing every time you feel him impossibly deep, his tip hitting against that spot perfectly and you moan out his name every time his cock pistons into you, pressing against it.

Your little pussy is so wet and warm – only getting tighter the more Jungkook fucks you open and it dawns upon him in that very moment that he’s officially tasted you, has you in a way that will make it very difficult not to crave you constantly. Want you, always.

“Ffuck, baby. Mine. This pussy was made for me.”

His words make you free-fall right into your second orgasm of the night – ripping inside of you so suddenly and with such ferocity it has the both of you gasping. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, throwing your head back in utter pleasure. He groans as he feels the way your fingernails press on the warm skin of his back, the sharp pain trailing all the way down until your hands land on his ass, pressing him deeper into you.

“Fuck, what was that-” He hisses in total disbelief, so lost in your pleasure. You clench around him once more as he sinks deep into you. “F-fuck I’m gonna cum, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me, please. Please.”

Your eyes are glazed over, tears falling from the corners as you look up at him. He loves how receptive you are – how pleasure takes on every part of you. He loves how your face mirrors exactly what he’s doing to you and he loves the little whimpers that fall in between your words when you’re begging for him. When you speak your mind – filthy little words coming past your red lips, so swollen from your teeth and his sinking into them.

You watch him, fighting with your heavy eyes to stay open as his face scrunches up in pleasure and a raspy moan leaves his lips, breaths coming out in frantic little puffs as he rides the waves of his orgasm and spills into the condom – so much fucking cum you swear you can feel it.

“Oh my God,” he speaks against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your body.

Your fingers play with the soft hairs at the back of his neck, your other hand running lazily over his back as his body grows limp on top of yours. He feels heavy but you don’t mind it, enjoying his warmth – wanting nothing more than to have him this close for as long as you can.

You smile, listening to the little sounds he makes as his body relaxes and sleep begins to tempt him. He’s so warm, so soft as he lets you hold him like this. It almost feels like his two bare hands were taking a hold of your heart, cradling it ever so tenderly and squeezing it all at the same time.

He’s still inside of you and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s going to have to pull away. So, he lets himself enjoy whatever eternity those seconds hold, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck – lips right against it and all it takes is a soft pout for them to press on the soft skin.

He feels safe in your arms.

It’s then that you realize that all this time you were separating two things that walked hand in hand, together.

Jeon Jungkook is peace.

And you welcome it.

what just happened lol? i’m fucking screaming. I truly hope u enjoyed!!!!!!!!! pls they’re falling in love right under our noses. in this country home of sex n love n magic. do let me know what u think bc i love loving on u guys back <3333333 thank u for making it this far w me! it means the world <3

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