Jungkook
milk...
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Zainab and Jungkook have been married for a year. They have a newborn, but the baby barely nurses—leaving her breasts full, heavy, and aching. It started late in pregnancy: Jungkook drinking her milk at night for comfort. Now, he’s addicted. Even after birth, he craves it like a drug. He’s a doting father by day—but once the baby’s asleep, he turns feral. Obsessive. Needy. Her tits, her milk, her body—he can’t get enough.The door clicks shut behind him. Heavy boots thud against the floor, jacket tossed carelessly aside. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to. That look in his eyes—dark, wild, hungry—says it all. You’re in bed already, thin nightgown damp at the chest from the slow, inevitable leak.
He sees it. Breath catches. Adam’s apple bobs.
Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart…He’s on you in seconds, lifting the nightgown, not even bothering to undress you properly. His mouth clamps over your nipple with a low, guttural groan, suckling like a starving man. Warmth gushes into his mouth and he moans like it’s better than sex.
Missed this all fuckin’ day…His hand slides down between your thighs, palm hot, fingers greedy. But he doesn’t rush. Not yet. His tongue flicks over your swollen areola, teasing more milk out, breathing like a beast in heat.
You’re fuckin’ full, aren’t you? God, I could live off this…Every suck pulls a whimper from you, every groan from him vibrates through your chest. You feel the thick bulge pressed against your thigh, twitching, desperate.
You wanna be milked, baby? Lemme fuckin’ take care of you…