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whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

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Warnings: HEAD HEAD U GIVE HIM HEAD, cum swallowing, johnny is obsessed w everything u do teehee, kissing after nutting, softness, dick stroking

Johnny knows you haven't done this before, but it's hard for him to hide the fact that that he's elated-and not just because he's about to get his dick sucked, but because you're the one whose soft, eager hands are pulling his sweats down to his knees.

He chuckles, a warm, melodic sound and your cheeks heat further as he reaches his long arms down to his ankles to pull his bottoms off all the way, slinging them to the floor.

You're sat on your knees, between his legs and you can't will yourself not to look at the tent that has formed in his black briefs. He's so long, you feel an aching need to touch him.

To be honest, you're not sure what to do first. It's like each of your limbs are buzzing with the need to do something- to kiss him first, to stroke his skin.

Your boyfriend reaches out towards you, thumb smoothing the apple of your cheek before he drops his hand to caress the top of your bare thigh. He can tell you're somewhere else, can tell that you're shaky with nerves and other emotions alike.

"You okay honey? You know we don't have t-" You interrupt him, scooting closer to his figure with your hands on his agile hips as your eyes meet. "I want to, I really want to. Jus' wanna make you feel good."

His chocolate eyes soften, hands suddenly encompassing the sides of your face as he leans closer to press your lips together, firmly but with the sweetest of reassurances laced within.

"Anything you do will make me feel good, and I'm here, okay? If you're not feeling it, all you gotta do is look at me and we can stop."

Your cheeks are still held gently in his warm palms, your body-and heart, unable to bear the sickeningly sweet sense of euphoria that courses through you at his words. It's now that you realize, you truly have nothing to be nervous about.

Without warning, your fingers trace the inside of his thigh, his heart shaped lips parting in surprise as your eyes meet again. You nod, softly, and as if to silently assure him that you're ready. His mouth finds yours one last time before he reluctantly pulls away to settle his back against the headboard.

The sky outside is scattered with hues of purple and violet, the natural light that bleeds through the blinds being the perfect amount you need to not feel like you're being examined, or under a spotlight to be judged.

You know that Johnny wouldn't judge you anyways, that he really would be appreciative of anything you do. It's foreign to feel so admired, his softly hooded eyes following you as your hesitant fingers begin to travel on their own accord.

You barely skim past it, and he twitches. The action doesn't completely take you by surprise, prompting real curiosity as to how he might act when you actually touch him. Your belly swirls with heat, and you feel a little bit of those previous nerves beginninging to fizzle away.

Being with him like this, so intimately, in the quiet of a room with no one but the two of you and your hormones accompanied, it's that thought that leads you to finally grip him through the black material that's restraining him.

You start just above his balls, fingers tracing the contour of the firm member as it veers to the left, tucked securely and bulging out at the tip. You go there next, not even realizing Johnny has stiffened and his ring clad fingers are gripping the comforter beneath him.

You're a bit bolder now, scooting closer by your knees while you use your other hand to slip underneath his white tee shirt, caressing his side before toying with his waistband.

"It's so hard." Are the first words you mutter, truth in your cadence as you start to stroke him, length warm and stiff against your palm. It makes you squeeze your thighs together, skin tingly all of the sudden.

He laughs softly at this, the deep, lust filled timbre of his voice seeming to reverberate through the room, and your body. "It's all cause of you."

At this you look up, the highlights of his eyes staring back at you in the dim light of the space. Even like this, you can read the expression he's wearing, tongue darting out to wet his plump lips.

You don't hesitate now, deciding to remove his underwear all together. Your fingers work deftly, his lithe hips rising slightly as to help you in the process. Once you hear his hard cock slap against the slither of his abdomen that's exposed, you find it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.

Your gasp is audible, as you wrap your hands around him, the skin velvety soft, a new sensation underneath your fingertips. You can see a vein protruding from the side slightly, sunset allowing enough light in order for you to know what exactly it is that you're doing.

"Your hand is so much smaller than mine." He breathes out, your body reacting as if he's touched you physically, everytime he speaks. The way he says it makes you want to whine.

You stroke him gently, satisfied when the smooth tip passes through your fist, his hips bucking. You realize now that you're slick between your thighs, clit throbbing.

"You're just big, you know." You can practically feel his smirk, your free hand carresing his thick thigh as your jaw suddenly tingles with the urge to taste him, precum making his tip slick.

You decide to change your position, shifted to the right with your arm over his leg, elbow on the mattress holding you up- it's easier this way, you think. Johnny seems to think so too, as he eagerly reaches out to adjust your hair sweetly.

He strokes your cheek softly with the back of his knuckles as you place a kiss to the start of his shaft, a breath of surprise passing his lips while he struggles to remain still for you.

You feel powerful like this, yet still incredibly affected by your own arousal as you find yourself getting sloppier the closer you are to having him inside of your mouth.

When you finally encompass him with your lips, he unintentionally lets out a rather lewd groan. Your mouth is so warm, and soft and it's you so of course he's a mess.

You're not as aware as he is, too focused on suckling his tip to register the fact that he's got every muscle flexed. You take more of him, until he touches the back of your throat, and fuck, your small gag shouldn't have him as fucked as he is.

He tastes like you knew he would, not sweet but not unbearably salty. The taste is inherently Johnny and knowing you've got his dick in your mouth has you developing a gentle rythym, desperate to continue.

"That's it, use your hand too baby, I know you can't take it all yet," You do as he instructs, peering up at him through your lashes. "Good girl."

You moan around him, leaving his length with a pop as you catch your breath, suddenly overwhelmed.

Your chin is suddenly being forced between two of his fingers as he pulls you towards his awaiting mouth, the sound sticky and wet. Your hand continues to stroke him, his eyes dark and lids low when he pulls back.

He doesn't mean to get so nasty so fast, but you've always brought out sides of him that otherwise wouldn't have been bold enough to make an appearance.

You're back on him as soon as he relaxes, filled with real and tangible lust that yearns to make him feel good, to satisfy him the way he satisfies you, without even having to doing much of anything.

You try to quicken your pace this time, twisting your fist in time with your head bobbing. The sounds are erotic and lascivious themselves all together, and when you choke for the second time around his dick, the strained expletive that falls from his tongue is a clear indicator of his current preference.

"Doing s'good for me." He tries to hold his eyes open, tries to observe every detail but your mouth is just too good, and it's the way you hum as you suck him-like you're doing it for your own pleasure.

You pull him out and kitten lick the tip, before mouthing at it sweetly, haphazardly. He reaches out to rub your cheek, mesmerized by the half visible sight between his legs. The sun is almost completely gone.

"What'll make you cum fastest? I wanna taste it."

He nearly chokes on his own spit, dick twitching in your palm as his eyes widen in the dark. You're delighted by this, wrapping your lips back around his swollen head and hollowing your cheeks.

"You w-wanna taste...oh- fuck baby, just keep doing it like that, I'm close."

He speaks earnestly, worked up from your salacious question. Your hands are so soft, one gripping his shaft and the other rubbing his taut, smooth abdomen. Your spit dribbles down his cock and he feels heat lurching in his stomach.

It doesn't help that you're enjoying yourself so much, but he adores it so an unhealthy extent, the way you're whimpering around him and swirling your tongue underneath his frenulum. His hips begin bucking into your mouth on their own accord, throat opening to take him as much as you can.

He's too close to face fuck you, and he's not quite sure you can take that yet, already gagging around him but taking his length with no signs of stopping.

"Fuuuuck, just like that-so fuckin' close." You moan as he leaks on your tongue, his muscles tense with the anticipation of his orgasm. It's intoxicating to see and hear and feel him like this, your hand suddenly grasping for his in the dark.

When your fingers intertwine, he feels heat flood through his body, a surge of pleasure making his brain foggy.

"Cummingcummingcumming!"

You see his broad chest rise as he takes in a breath, belly tightening and cock jerking in your mouth as he spills down your throat. His release is saltier than his precum, but something about it being a part of Johnny, has you enjoying the way it lingers in your tongue.

He lets out a breathless, hiccupy moan as you suckle his tip, twitching at the overstimulation. He quickly realizes he needs a moment, immediately, before he becomes even more a mess under your ministrations.

He cups your chin and pulls you off of him gently, your eyes hazy and body more responsive to his touch since it feels as though you've gone ages without it.

He's quick to pull you onto him, lips skimming past yours in the dark before your mouths finally collide. He tastes himself, and groans when you tug at his hair needily, and worked up.

"Did amazing baby, my sweet angel." This moment feels so heartachingly sweet despite the nastiness that just occured, your noses rubbing up against the other, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

"Made you feel good?" You know the answer, feeling him smile into the kiss as he suckles your bottom lip.

"Made me feel so good baby." You feel his fingers tracing circles on the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you deepen the kiss by pressing yourself harder against him, placing your legs on either side of his waist.

Maybe, he won't be the only one to go the bed satisfied.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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IS THERE A PSYCHOLOGIST IN THE ROOM? (Part II)

Part I

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes

Anon asked: May I request a part two to “Is There A Psychologist In The Room?” w/ prompt 100. “Don’t give me that look.” and 49. “Well this is awkward…” w/ smut please

Word Count: 1.4k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Warnings: NSFW, smut and Angel getting traumatized again.

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits: @macherierps

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

It's cold and raining outside, so going out of the roulotte it's not an option in your free day. You're comfy there, wearing nothing but an EZ's shirt with a hot coffee, watching some youtube videos. But you pause it when you hear some heavy steps coming closer. The door gets opened with your boyfriend crossing the small entrance, before closing it. He sighs rubbing his wet face because of the rain, noticing that his clothes are practically like it. Licking your lips, you look at the young Reyes from top to bottom in slow-motion, giving you his back to find something comfortable and dry to wear.

“Don't give me that look”. You hear his voice containing a clear laugh, when he gets off the kutte and his shirt.

Good god, is it possible not looking at him as he was a piece of art? Your gaze travels all around his back and his arms, touring with it every marked vein on it. All the heat that should be outside is running through your body.

“You made me a promise”. You say then, crossing your legs and supporting your weight in your palms, resting on the bed.

“Did I?” EZ turns at you with both eyebrows raised, walking so slow towards you that it's desperating you.

“I'm pretty sure you did”. Nodding with pursed lips, he crawl above the bed getting closer.

Grabbing your ankles to pull them, leaving his legs between yours, standing up. Your lips go to his abdomen, leaving a soft lick with the tip of your tongue and your eyes on his getting darker, burning with desire. One of his hands get tangled in your hair, while the other support your chin leaning to you, so he can bit your lower lip. Your fingers taking care of his belt unfasten it, with his tongue sliding in your mouth in a slow kiss provoking you. EZ knows well how to play with your mind.

Unzipping his jeans and pulling it down with his boxers, you start an invisible road over his skin going down by his belly button, continuing with his lower abdomen till your tongue reaches his cock. Putting your hands behind his back, as he likes, you leave a slow lick all over his warm extension.

“Are you hungry, ah?” He asks with a scratchy tone, leaving some caresses on your hair till his fingers get tangled hardly in some bristles.

Sucking his reddened glans, making him growl, you take his dick in your mouth pressing your lips around it and touring it with your tongue. Once and again, maintaining eye contact. With both hands on your head, he pushes himself till collide with your throat, forcing you to keep it there for some seconds. Every EZ's gasp is like the best melody you can listen, leaning back his head slightly and parted lips. You're taking away every breath from him, as your mouth sucking his sensible and hardness skin, whilst his hips are fucking your lips with that kind of dirty and wet sound.

You love pleasing him with the most minimal detail. And there's nothing you could enjoy more than hearing him moaning your name choppy and trembling with pleasure. Hitting with his warm dick your throat, till you cough, EZ pulls it out to get you up. His big hands squeeze your ass, nailing his fingers there whilst turning you to walk towards the table. Forcing you to give him your back, resting your chest on it before throwing your shirt to somewhere, he elbows down to your pussy exposed for his own pleasure. He leaves a long lick all over your wetness tasting you as he truly loves, jacking himself off, slicing his tongue between both lips reaching your clit. He sucks it gently, being so wet, swollen and need of his attention, that you're driving him crazy.

Getting up and nailing a hand on your low back, he guides his cock to your warm pussy pounding you without expecting, so hard that he almost touches your soul.

“Fuck, Ezekiel”. You scream out, trying to hold yourself to the table.

“You asked for it, mi amor”. He slaps your ass with a hand where he carries two golden rings. And you're sure that they are going to give you a beautiful mark.

Growling because of the slight pain and the pleasure, but his waist thrusting you faster and harder that you can handle covers it. It's feel so good feeling him digging into you, with his fingers nailing your skin turning it whiteness. Your groans flooding the roulotte, getting up till his chest meets your back and his lips your neck. EZ bites you, dragging his teeth all around it, letting travel a hand between your legs finding with his forefinger your clit. Both are sweating because of the fast moves, forcing his other hand to grab your throat to rest your nape on his shoulder, so you can kiss him twisting it.

His tongue fighting with yours in a dirty kiss, dancing in your mouth and tasting his own flavour mixed with your saliva. You love him. You love every touch he gives you, wanting to please you at all cost at any moment of the day. You're like a blessing for him, and not only because of the sex. But because you take care of him, of his wounds, of his fears, of his secrets. You're all he was needing, and he's all that you ever wanted, treating you like a damn queen.

“OH, C'MON! ARE YOU FUCKIN' SERIOUS? I EAT ON THAT TABLE”.

Angel's angry and upset voice resonates on the roulotte, making you breaks in laughters.

“Well, that's awkward...” EZ says, hearing the door being closed loud by his brother.

“Sweet Jesus, he really gonna need a psychologist”. You still laughing without moving a single inch.

“Then, let me traumatize him a little more”. He says pulling you away in disgust, before turning you to lift your body on the table. “I'm gonna make you cum there”.

“Mm... naughty boy”. You chuckle wrapping his waist with your legs, taking him closer.

He pounds you again, enjoying your face when your lips get opened because of it, resting your forehead on his and your arms around his neck. He's not going to stop. He really wants to do it and you're pretty sure he'll tell what you did on the table. You know them well.

Every thrust goes harder, slicing a hand between your bodies to stroke your clit with his thumb as he licks you lips, biting the lower one and making you groan. You're feeling it. You know you're close to the orgasm, dancing your hips as he does to push him deeper.

“Where you... wanna cum, baby?” You whisper against his lips, seeing how he draws a petty smile on them.

“You have a beautiful mouth”. EZ moans before kissing you filthy, drowning his tongue between your teeth so he can caress yours feeling needy. “But shit, mi amor... You're pussy is so tight, and warm... God... You're making me lose my mind...”

Chuckling, you kiss him back with both hands on his neck, feeling your legs shaking a little as the pleasure meets the heat running all over your anatomy. Screaming out his name, without caring about who can hear you, cumming over his hard cock still pounding you. Is the best sensation ever, holding him closer, sinking his face on your neck.

Then you feel it. His seed filling you, spilling between your thighs with his fingers nailed on them hard. Your name with his hoarse voice colliding on your skin, as he thrust you one last time with all the strength he has left, arching your back because of the delight.

“You feel so fucking... good strangling me with this... fucking closeness”. He tries to say with heavy breathing.

“Anything for you, mi rey”. You mutter looking for his mouth, to kiss him dearly and slowly enjoying that lips you're so obsessed with. “I love you, baby”.

“I love you too, mi amor. You don' know how much”. Cupping your cheeks on his hands, he comes a little closer provoking you a slight gaps that makes him laugh.

#mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader

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hoseoksactualass · 5 years

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[1:24 a.m.] I’m not gonna touch her 😡

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut // fluff

word count: almost 2k

warning/s: oral (male receiving)

a/n: pls imagine this w cherry kook i miss cherry kook, also,, i changed my writing style...a bit? if you’ll notice? and this is gonna be long

Jungkook knew what he was signing up for. It’s the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your fourth beer bottle and how Jimin’s hand gradually went higher up your thigh like you feel it through insobriety and loud laughing. He still likes you, though, wants to protect you, everything in the How To Confess scripture and all that yada, but he’s a man of his word, so he’ll house you for a night. Admittedly more so because Jimin’s hand started to look sickening. And he did so with Jimin sending him a proud sneer and Jungkook biting back with a rather defensive “I’m not gonna touch her.”

It’s been a considerable amount of years since you’ve visited them in Seoul, and to your avail, Jungkook found it perfect to invite your trusty circle of friends to where he’s bought a new apartment with his fat wallet. After confessing his feelings, because he’s not a Big Bitch. And with knowing Jimin gets touchy when tipsy, and even more so when he knows he’s making the younger boy jealous; that was uncalled for. What was also uncalled for was how uncomfortable you were making his pants. The way you pumped your fists into the air to signify party, and the hem of your shirt loosely brushed over the skin of your stomach. The way, with intoxication in your tongue, you told him you missed him after every swig.

Of course he has a guest room; he’s not cheap, and definitely not a pervert. You were the first to grace its untouched sheets, in the silence of a post-party air, eyes reeling under your closed eyelids, and a part of Jungkook hoped you were dreaming of him. Not a part of him, all of him.

It’s still stuck in his mind anyway. The way, before you fell asleep, you mumbled “Thanks for making me stay, Jay-Kaaaaay, love ya.”

You look like you’re about to wake up, so Jungkook is thrown back from his trance in a hurry to grab you a glass of water. When he comes back, he makes it look like he hadn’t been gawking at you all the while. He’s brought a whole pitcher, too.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes. “I think I’m sober now.”

“Why aren’t you hungover?,” is what Jungkook settles with. He pours you a glass and lends it to you.

“I didn’t fuck myself up, don’t worry,” you drink. Slowly like you’re taught, or you’ll end up bent over the toilet or pissing Jungkook’s guest room sheets. “You?”

“I had, like, one bottle,” he leaves out the part where he got tense peering at you, more particularly at Jimin’s hand while you lit up the party’s conversation like a natural. “Not drunk at all.”

“Mm. You’re gonna have to clean up the place, anyway,” you cup your glass in both hands, looking up at Jungkook. “Can’t do that with a hangover,” the way you clink your nails against the glass makes the air more awkward. A pretentious act for the silence of his apartment. Pretending he didn’t confess how intense his feelings were a mere night ago in a warm, warm welcome of your comeback to Seoul. Delightful. More so because thinking about it made your face hot, and for what, you have no idea.

Jungkook pulls down his hoodie, fingering through the cherry red of his hair. Slowly fading into the pale bleach that it was. “Yeah, there’s quite a—a mess.”

“Let me guess, did Ji-hee vomit?”

He huffs out a shy laugh, apples of his cheek prominent. “S-Surpisingly not.”

“Oh, she didn’t. That’s a first.”

“Yeah, she didn’t.”

You bite at your lip, veering your stare from him. “...Yeah.”

He backpedals a step he was supposed to make, body stirring whether he should go closer or out of the room, smacking his lips together, dicey in the way he’s so puzzled. “Do you— Should I— Will you sleep, or—”

“No, JK, wait—,” then it’s you who smacks your lips together like punishment for even calling him by the name only his closest friends call him. But you see it makes his cheeks turn rosy. “I— Can I borrow a pair of shorts? O-Or pyjamas?”

He tries to ask why. Tries, but he’s already shuffling out of the room per your request, and your nails dig into the clench of your fists, because it’s so fucking tense. He comes back with basketball shorts. Lame and old, worn out neon green striped on the sides of the black polyester. Still shy in the way he hands it over, but he doesn’t miss the way your hands brush when you receive it. You intended that.

“I—I kind of—My shorts reek of beer, so, I’m gonna...”

“D-Do you wanna go to the bathroom, or should I—should I just leave?”

“You can just turn around,” you say it out of impulse, kindness, panic, and it’ll be too feeble to take back. So you smile at him, at the way his eyes widen and he looks like he’s about to say something. You catch the way his eyes flick at your legs when you’ve kicked them off the bed, and then he turns around like you asked.

Jungkook doesn’t want to obsess over it—the sounds of your shorts slipping off your limbs, your skin, wearing his basketball shorts. He tries to block it out, but it’s the only thing he hears. The only thing he imagines until Jimin’s hand snakes its way back up into his imagination, and his nose flares.

You, on the other hand, don’t want to obsess about how close he was. How you were basically stripping behind him, how you know he was thinking about how you look. Your heart softens for it, and the inevitable pulse in your body everyone feels over someone like Jeon Jungkook. You can see the bones of his shoulder even from under his hoodie. You walk to him, don’t particularly know why, and he hears it, but he still waits for your word to turn back around. You want to touch his back. “Hey, Jungkook?”

He jumps at the proximity of your voice. Directly behind him. “Yeah?”

“You can turn around.”

He does, meets eyes, too. Searches yours for something. “...Hi.”

“I’ll be straightforward. I don’t want you to—,” you say, and he instantly breaks eye contact, downcast. “I don’t want you to be all—all awkward around me, because you—because you confessed so... yeah.”

He holds back a smile. “It’s just that you haven’t answered is all.”

“I’ll answer.” His eyes light up. It’s glazed with hope, and it squeezes sweet at your heart. His eyes flutter, and he purses his lips into a gulp. You like him. In fact, you curl your arms around his neck and pull him to your lips. Make him stumble to you, eyes wide, but he instantly shuts it tight when your lips clash, his hands in fists, because he can’t bring himself to touch your hips. Up your shirt like he’s imagined so many times. Maybe he whimpers lowly against your lips, taken aback and smitten all at once. He takes a mental note of how good you kiss, how fluid you are when you tease a nibble on his lower lip. You feel how he lets you suck him into it, until you feel your hands playing with his waistband, and you feel his tightly hold yours.

“_____, what are you doing?”

“That’s my answer. I like you. I—,” you tug at his sweatpants. “—want you.”

“B-But I—,” he tries to take a step back, breaths already shallow. “But I told Jimin I wasn’t gonna—gonna touch you.”

You loosen your grip, staring at him straight in the eye where he craves for you. “But do you want to?,” your voice is soft.

“I—I do want—to touch you; it’s just that Jimin is an asshole when he—”

“Then try not to touch me, or try to make sure Jimin doesn’t find out,” you kiss him again. This time, he receives it better, grabbing leverage on the desk behind him, tilting his head so his lips fit with yours, and he does it so beautifully; you catch the way his red hair falls over his eyes. You kiss to his dimples, feel the seething of his cheeks on your mouth. You see he closes his eyes when you kiss down from his jaw, brows slightly furrowed; he’s buried in the feeling, ruined by it. “Tell me what you like.”

You’re careful when you peck his neck. You make sure you see it when he wants to moan for it, for how feathery and soft you kiss him. “I—Anything.”

“There must be something I can give you.”

“Anything you’ll give me,” he wants to sound innocent, so he can pin whatever filthy thing you were planning on you like he isn’t hard for it. “I—I want it.”

You suck at his pulse at that, nipping so it leaves a light mark. “Do you?,” you look up, fishing for his response when you palm his crotch.

The way his eyes are shut tightens. You palm at the creases of his clothes until all you feel is the outline of his arousal. “Y-Yeah.”

“You like this?,” you grope harder. He purses his lips like he’s about to cry.

“Yeah,” his voice is tight, gripping hard at the edge of the desk. You make sure your eyes solidly meet when you get on your knees, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down with you; he almost jumps. Flinches violently at the sudden gesture and the will to cover how embarrassingly hard he was, but it’s too late, because you have a tight fist around the base of his dick. His breath hitches. “A-Are you gonna—never mind.”

“Am I gonna what?,” you bite your lip, sending a slow, tight stroke to his dick. His knuckles go white.

“I mean—’cause you’re on your knees—I think that maybe you would... suckmydick,” the last words go out in a whisper, but you didn’t have to hear it. He blushes harder at the way you giggle. It doesn’t take long before you close your lips around the tip, wetting the trace with your tongue. “E-Exactly—like that.”

You gape up at him. His eyebrows are knit, eyes dark with lust, lips wet from kissing; it’s godly. His chest heaves—up, down in suspense. You take him in your mouth as far as you can go, letting up just to go down again. He could break his desk with how hard he was grasping it just to keep himself up.

“O-Oh, fuck,” he curses through the clench in his jaw. You could stare at him and do nothing, and he’ll declare it pleasure. “Fuck, shit, fuck.”

You match the way you stroke him with how you suck, holding him; you can feel his veins protrude and pulse, hot and damp against your mouth. He brings one hand to your hair, tucking strands behind your ear for the feel of it, mouth half open.

It’s absolute Music To Your Ears. His loose breaths that bring a nasal whimper with it, the downturn on his brows like he’s begging. He’s still too diffident to express what was reeling inside his head—recurrent thoughts of tasting how wet you are or having you coiling under him. His hips almost kick. You’re tearing up, and all he can do is stroke your hair. His fingertips light you up until the ground under you feels moot. He touches you like he’s head over heels in love, petting you as if praising you, and you perceive it in the blush on his cheeks, crossing all the way across his nose. You suck faster, and it takes expected effect. He wants to say something about how he wants your pussy, but he settles with “Y-Your—mouth feels so good.”

The praise ignites you even more; you moan in approval of it. Jungkook happens to like that. A Lot, it makes his dick twitch. He’s submerged in the feeling, completely ignoring how he got here and where he’ll end up, wrapped around the thought that you willingly got on your knees for him. He doesn’t know how to express how grateful he is, but the sound of your name makes much more sense. He says it, fucking moans your name like it’s the only thing he knows. Like he hadn’t done exactly that in his lonely, wee hours of the night once or twice, feeling careless or intoxicated.

You’re a mess, nearly keening at the soft caresses of his hand on your hair, palming it against your head like he’s cradling you to sleep. You watch him ogle at the way you make certain most of his cock slips easy in your mouth. He’s increasingly timid the closer he gets, confused even if he knows you’ll let him cum down your throat. He lets his other hand free, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and bringing it to his face, turning his head to the side. You don’t miss the way his ears flush crimson as if to match his hair, or how he moans louder against the fabric to muffle himself. In fact, how flustered he was was incredibly hot, the way he returned his other hand to the edge of the desk lest he might pull your hair out.

When he cums, you hear a string of choked glory, held together by a slowing mantra of your name until he drops his cover. He keeps his head to the side, eyes still closed, face still red, breath still heavy. You swallow, but you’d need a glass of water for your throat to clear. When you stand up, you pull his clothes up with you. “I figured you wouldn’t kiss me now that I’ve swallowed your cum.”

His eyes flutter at that, reddening quickly at the face again before he presses his lips on yours, and it’s a soft, light kiss that lasts seconds. You smile.

“You can tell Jimin it was just my hair.”

“W-What?”

“My hair. You touched just my hair.”

“He’ll think I’m weird.”

“It’s not false, I mean, you kissed my cum-stuffed mouth, so—”

He laughs at that but doesn’t stop blushing for three days.

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