part 1

He lifted her hand to his lips. Kissed her knuckles one by one.

Then he tugged her gently forward until she was straddling his lap on the rug.

No urgency this time.

Just quiet need.

He undressed her slowly — reverently — like he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

When she was bare he pulled his shirt over his head, jeans following.

Skin to skin.

He didn’t enter her right away.

Instead he laid her back on the soft rug, settled between her thighs, and worshipped her with his mouth until she was trembling, fingers knotted in his hair, whispering broken versions of his name.

Only when she was shaking, pleading, did he slide inside — slow, careful, eyes never leaving hers.

They moved together like they were relearning each other.

No commands.

No possession games.

Just deep, rolling thrusts that made her gasp every time he bottomed out.

When she came it was quiet — a soft sob, tears slipping into her hairline.

He kissed them away.

Followed her over the edge with a low, shuddering groan, hips pressing flush as he spilled inside.

Afterward he didn’t pu

ll out immediately.

part 2

“Missed you,” he murmured against her pulse.

“You saw me this morning.”

“Not enough.”

His hands slid under the shirt, palms skimming her bare skin, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts.

She arched.

He groaned.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Right there on the kitchen floor.

Pushed her thighs apart with reverent hands.

Looked up at her like she was something holy.

“Jungkook—”

“Quiet,” he said softly. Not an order. A plea. “Let me.”

He buried his face between her legs.

No teasing.

No buildup.

Just open-mouthed devotion.

His tongue circled her clit with devastating precision, then dipped lower, licking into her like he was starved.

She threaded her fingers through his hair.

Held on.

He ate her like it was worship and penance all at once.

When she came it was sudden—shattering, thighs clamping around his head, a broken cry tearing from her throat.

He didn’t stop.

Kept licking her through the aftershocks until she was whimpering, oversensitive, tugging at his hair.

Only then did he rise.

Mouth glistening.

Eyes dark.

He kissed her—let her taste herself on his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth.

He freed himself with shaking hands.

Guided himself to her entrance.

Pushed in slowly.

Inch by inch.

Her head fell back against the cabinet.

He caught it with his palm, protecting her skull even now.

When he was fully seated he stilled.

Forehead pressed to hers.

Breathing ragged.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Every fucking part.”

She cupped his face.

“I know.”

Then he started moving.

Slow at first—long, rolling thrusts that made her toes curl.

Then faster.

Harder.

The counter rattled.

Pasta water sloshed in the pot behind her.

Neither cared.

He hooked her legs over his elbows, changing the angle, driving deeper.

She clawed at his shoulders through his shirt.

“Jungkook—oh god—”

“Come for me again,” he rasped. “Want to feel you.”

She did.

Violently.

Walls fluttering, then clamping down so hard he cursed under his breath.

He followed right after—hips snapping forward, burying hi

mself to the hilt as he came with a low, guttural groan.

part 3 of when he so obsessed and always do it everyday, anywhere Jungkook ff🔞

By the time the elevator doors closed behind them, the tension was electric.

He pressed her against the mirrored wall.

Hands roaming.

Mouth on her throat.

The ride to the penthouse had never felt longer.

When the doors finally opened he lifted her, legs wrapped around his waist, and carried her straight to the bedroom.

Didn’t bother with lights.

Just the city glow through the windows.

He laid her on the bed.

Stripped her slowly—dress pooling like green ink, lingerie following.

Then he stood at the foot of the bed and undressed himself.

Deliberate.

Letting her watch.

Shirt. Belt. Slacks. Boxers.

All gone.

He crawled over her.

Settled between her thighs.

But instead of thrusting inside, he paused.

Looked down at her.

“Tell me what you want tonight.”

She blinked—surprised.

He’d always led. Always commanded.

This was new.

She swallowed.

“I want… you slow.”

He nodded once.

“Slow.”

He kissed her—languid, drugging kisses that made her melt into the mattress.

Then he moved lower.

Kissed her collarbone.

The valley between her breasts.

Her stomach.

The sensitive skin just above her hip.

Everywhere except where she ached most.

When she whimpered he finally settled there.

Spread her with gentle thumbs.

Licked into her like he had all night.

Slow circles.

Long, lazy strokes.

Until she was trembling, fingers knotted in the sheets, begging in broken whispers.

Only then did he rise up.

Position himself.

Slide inside—inch by devastating inch.

Her back arched.

He caught her hands. Laced their fingers. Pressed them into the mattress beside her head.

Held her gaze as he started moving.

Long, deep rolls of his hips.

No rush.

No force.

Just connection.

Every thrust dragged against every sensitive place inside her.

par 4

For long minutes they simply breathed—steam curling around them, city lights refracting through the window like distant fireworks.

Then his hands began to move.

Slow.

Exploratory.

Cupping her breasts.

Tracing her ribs.

Skimming down her stomach.

She sighed, head falling back against his shoulder.

He kissed her neck.

“Tell me if you’re too tired.”

“I’m not tired.”

His fingers dipped lower.

Found her.

Circled gently.

She shivered despite the heat.

He kept the touches light—teasing, building—until she was arching, soft whimpers echoing off the tiles.

Only then did he lift her slightly, turn her so she straddled him.

Water sloshed over the edge.

Neither cared.

He guided himself to her entrance.

Let her sink down at her own pace.

When he was fully inside they both exhaled—long, shaky sounds of relief.

She started moving first—slow rolls of her hips.

He let her set the rhythm.

Hands on her waist, thumbs stroking her hip bones, eyes never leaving her face.

She rode him unhurriedly, chasing the slow burn.

When the pleasure began to crest she leaned forward, kissed him deeply.

He swallowed her moans.

When she came it was quiet—trembling waves, nails digging into his shoulders, a soft broken sound against his mouth.

He followed seconds later—deep, pulsing, arms banding tight around her as he spilled inside.

They stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, breathing hard, water cooling around them.

Part 5 heavy smut🔞When he is so obsessed any always do it with her everyday,anywhere Jungkook oneshot FF

“You have meetings today,” she reminded him—half tease, half plea for him to keep going.

“Later.”

His thumb stroked the sensitive skin just above her hip bone.

Round and round.

She bit her lip.

“Jungkook…”

“Say my name like that again.”

She did—breathier this time.

“Jungkook.”

He groaned low in his throat.

Then he moved—slow, deliberate—rolling her onto her back, settling between her thighs.

He didn’t kiss her mouth.

Not yet.

He kissed her throat instead.

Open-mouthed.

Teeth grazing.

Then lower.

Over the key pendant—metal cool against his tongue.

Then lower still.

He took one nipple into his mouth.

Sucked gently.

Then harder.

She arched, fingers sliding into his hair.

He switched to the other breast—same slow torture.

By the time he lifted his head she was trembling, thighs slick, breath coming in shallow pants.

He kissed down her stomach.

Paused at her navel.

Looked up at her through dark lashes.

“Spread for me.”

She did—immediately.

He settled lower.

Shoulders pushing her thighs wider.

Then he simply… breathed against her.

Hot.

Deliberate.

Teasing.

She whimpered.

“Jungkook, please—”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

He smirked—slow, wicked.

“Say it.”

She flushed.

“My clit. Lick my clit. Please.”

“Good girl.”

He rewarded her instantly—flat tongue dragging from entrance to clit in one long, firm stroke.

She cried out.

He did it again.

And again.

Slow.

Torturously slow.

Every time she got close he pulled back—kissing her inner thighs, blowing cool air over her swollen folds, waiting until she was shaking with need before starting over.

By the fourth time she was nearly sobbing.

“Jungkook—I can’t—I need—”

He finally gave in.

Sucked her clit into his mouth.

Hard.

Flicked with the tip of his tongue.

Two fingers slid inside—curled.

She shattered.

Back bowing off the mattress, a broken scream tearing from her throat, thighs clamping around his head.

He didn’t stop.

Kept licking her through it—gentler now—drawing out every aftershock until she was limp, boneless, tears slipping into her hair.

Only then did he crawl back up her body.

Settled between her thighs again.

Looked down at her—flushed, wrecked, beautiful.

He kissed her deeply—let her taste herself on his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth.

He positioned himself at her entrance.

But didn’t push in.

Just rubbed the head of his cock through her folds—slow, slippery, teasing.

Up and down.

Over her oversensitive clit.

She jerked each time.

Whimpered.

“Jungkook…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You. Inside. Now.”

He pressed just the tip inside.

Stilled.

Her walls fluttered around him desperately.

He leaned down.

Lips brushing her ear.

“Beg.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Please—please fuck me—need you so bad—need to feel you—need you deep—please—”

He thrust in one smooth, deep stroke.

Buried to the hilt.

They both groaned.

He didn’t move at first—just stayed there, letting her feel every inch, every pulse.

Then he started—slow, rolling thrusts that dragged against every nerve.

Deep.

Deliberate.

Eyes locked on hers the entire time.

She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Pulled him closer.

Deeper.

He picked up speed—still controlled, still measured—but harder now.

The headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall.

The city lights blurred beyond the window.

She clawed at his back.

“Harder—”

He obliged.

Snapped his hips forward—sharp, punishing.

She cried out.

He did it again.

And again.

Until the slow burn turned into an inferno.

When she was close—clenching, trembling, babbling his name—he slid a hand between them.

Thumb on her clit.

Circling.

Fast.

She came again—violently—nails raking down his back, walls pulsing so hard it dragged him over the edge with her.

He buried his face in her neck.

Groaned her name like

a prayer.

Spilled deep inside—hot, endless pulses.

They collapsed together—

sweaty, shaking, hearts hammering in sync.

part 6

“Boy or girl?”

She laughed softly.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “They’re ours.”

“Ours.”

He kissed her temple.

Then her cheek.

Then found her mouth again—gentler this time.

Full of wonder.

Full of promise.

When they finally moved inside he carried her to bed.

Undressed her with careful hands.

Made love to her slowly—reverently—every touch worshipful.

No commands.

No desperation.

Just deep, rolling connection.

Eyes locked.

Hands laced.

When they came it was quiet—shared breaths, trembling limbs, his palm still resting over the place where their future was growing.

Afterward he tucked her against his chest.

Fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.