#gif jungkook

[bangtans-momma]

This is perfection! And this Jungkook was so damn hot, had to share this with others. Go give it some love!

jeon jungkook - handle with care

warnings ; oral (f recieving), he hits it from the back, hair pulling, blue collar dick🚨🚨

prompt ; in which your landlord sends an electrician to fix your power, and you end up learning firsthand the magic of blue collar dick.

note ; if you are reading this.. this is a queue’d post while im in MEXICO!!!!! you horny little sluts really thought i would leave you alone for 5 days.. i would never. i figured — hey if i can’t post part 5 of tpod i can at least give a life lesson on blue collar dick, right? backstory here is that the other day my best friend and i had a conversation about our sexy ass landlord and that got me thinking… jungkook..? blue collar..? big dick..? so anyways this is the product of that convo! (and also a standalone one shot bc yall be loving these!)

Later, when someone asks you to recap this story, you’ll say that in your defense, you weren’t expecting the electrician to look like he walked straight off some cringy Pornhub set. You’ll say you just wanted your electricity fixed, not to be spiritually humbled by a man who smells like sawdust and pine.

Your apartment is the kind of place that builds character. And by character, you mean mild trauma.

The kitchen light flickers like it’s been possessed since the day you moved in. The ceiling creaks when your upstairs neighbor sneezes. Your shower only has two settings (arctic and molten lava). There’s a weird stain on the ceiling you’ve been ignoring for three months. And today, of all days, the universe decided to cut the last thread holding your sanity together: the power.

No lights. No working outlets. No WiFi. Which means you’re sitting on your couch, in a hoodie and shorts, trying to hotspot your laptop with 3% battery left while rage-texting your landlord like you’re filing an official grievance with Satan himself.

You immediately text your landlord, fully expecting a five-day delay and a $30 deduction off your next rent.

You: hi. respectfully. what the FUCK is happening?

You: i work from home. i pay rent. i have needs. pls fix ASAP.

He replies five minutes later like he’s doing you a personal favor.

Landlord: sending my guy over. 15 mins.

Your landlord is somehow both your greatest nemesis and your weirdest emotional support system. He’ll ignore three maintenance requests, ghost you for a week, then show up unannounced with a half-eaten bag of Hot Cheetos. You’ve threatened to sue him in writing and sent him a happy birthday meme in the same month. And you’re already halfway into a mental spiral about “his guy” being a 60-year-old with pants that don’t stay up and opinions about the current political climate when there’s a knock at your door.

You swing the door open, fully expecting to see a crusty old man with a clipboard and a wheeze, and instead, you see… (and you’ll remember this moment until the day you die.)

Lip ring. Tattoo sleeve. Tool belt slung low over cargo pants. A black tee stretched across broad shoulders. Jesus Christ, the hair. Dark, slightly shaggy, pushed back on top but long in the back, curling at the nape of his neck in a way that should not be allowed near unsupervised women.

“Hey’,” he says, like this isn’t a pivotal moment in your sexual awakening. “I’m here about the outage?”

You blink at him. You are officially unfit for conversation.

This man has a mullet. A tattooed, lip-ringed, mullet-wearing man is standing in your hallway holding a voltage tester like its foreplay.

Suddenly, your pajama shorts feel too short for this moment. You fumble with the doorknob, “Uh. Yeah. Come in. It’s, uh.. yeah.”

Brilliant. Shakespeare could never.

He steps inside, and holy shit, he’s even taller than you thought. The kind of tall that makes your ceilings feel shorter. The kind of tall where you have to crane your neck just slightly to look up at him, which is offensive because you’re not exactly short yourself. He smells like a mix of sawdust, a hint of pine, laundry detergent, and a 2002 Nissan Altima. It’s oddly specific.

He glances around like he’s surveying a battlefield. “Power cut out completely?”

You nod, shuffling behind him as he moves farther into your apartment with the kind of confidence like he’s somehow been to your home before. His boots thud across your hardwood floor, scuffed and loud. The tool belt clinks. His shirt rides up when he stretches his arm to check something near the ceiling and there’s a flash of golden skin and low-slung cargo pants and—

You’re not doing well.

He pops open the panel in the ceiling like it’s nothing. “Y’all been having issues with this before? Flickering? Dead outlets?”

“Sometimes the kitchen light hums like it’s possessed,” you say, which you regret immediately. “I mean, not literally possessed. Not like.. haunted. Just… you know. Buzzing.”

He chuckles. It’s a low, gravelly sound that sinks its teeth into your spine and doesn’t let go.

“Probably a loose connection in the junction box. Nothing too crazy,” he says, grabbing something from his belt that you will now dream about tonight. “You work from home?”

You nod again, helpless. “Yeah. Marketing.”

He glances back at you. “Tough with no WiFi.”

You turn around under the guise of “letting him work” but really just to text your roommate, Sana, with trembling fingers.

You: help. our power went out and the electrician we got sent is so hot

You: he has a MULLET. a mullet, sana. he said “junction box” and i almost moaned

You hear him grunt softly as he stretches to reach something and you nearly drop your phone.

Sana: SEND A PIC RN

You sneak a glance back — he’s perched on your step stool, arms flexing as he reaches into the ceiling. His hair is curling perfectly at the back of his neck, a little messy from the heat.

You don’t send a pic. You can’t. It feels criminal. You feel like you’re watching live porn with consequences.

Then he speaks again, casually. “You smell something burning last night? Or anything weird before it cut out?”

You nearly say “just my ovaries,” but God reaches down and slaps your mouth shut.

Instead, you clear your throat. “Nope. No sparks, no smell. It just… died this morning.”

He nods, focused. “Might be a fuse then. I’ll check the basement in a sec.”

He drops down from the stool with a casual thud and wipes his hands on that rag in his back pocket. That ass, that rag. This is no longer an apartment. It’s a crime scene.

You glance up just in time to see him walking toward your front door, lifting the back of his shirt to wipe his forehead. You black out for a second.

You: he just wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his shirt. i saw ab muscle. like cut definition. i think it smiled at me.

Sana: you need jail or a CONDOM stat. get his number???

You’re halfway through typing “I don’t even know his name yet” when the front door opens behind you, and you almost launch your phone across the room like it’s a grenade.

He steps back into your apartment with that casual, unbothered energy he’s so good at carrying. Hair slightly damp at the edges now, cheeks pink from the walk up your stairs, tool belt still jingling.

“Basement breaker’s fine,” he says, brushing his palm down the front of his shirt. “Might be a wiring issue. Gonna check one more thing.”

You blink. Nod. Attempt human speech. Fail. “Cool. Yeah. Check… stuff.”

Christ. You sound like you learned English from Duolingo five minutes ago.

He smiles then, actually smiles. Full teeth, little bunny front ones peeking out. His lip ring glints as he does it, and your brain goes completely static for a second.

“Want some water?” you blurt, and immediately hate yourself. “Or iced tea? Or, whatever I have in the fridge that isn’t expired?”

He huffs out a little laugh, shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks, sweetheart.”

You freeze like you’ve been slapped by a porn star. He walks past you again like nothing happened, reaching for something in his tool bag, completely unaware that your soul just evacuated your body.

You unlock your phone immediately, fingers trembling, and text in all caps.

You: HE CALLED ME SWEETHEART.

You: arrest him. make him marry me. i don’t care just make it LEGAL

You barely get the message out when he turns slightly and casually, and says, “So… you live here with your boyfriend, or…?”

You blink hard.

The question hangs there, just slightly too relaxed. Like it’s not loaded with potential. Like it’s not every Wattpad plotline you’ve ever read come to life in front of your half-broken Ikea bookshelf.

Your brain short-circuits harder than your kitchen socket. Is he flirting? Was that… are you being flirted with? It’s been a minute. Like, a long minute since you’ve had someone show genuine interest in you. You can’t tell anymore. He could be asking because he needs to know whose ass he’s about to get chewed out by if he knocks something over, or because he’s just curious.

You manage to croak out, “Just my roommate. Sana.”

He nods and doesn’t press. He lets out a low, distracted, “Hm,” like that’s useful information. Like it slots into place somewhere in his head and he’s okay with it.

You, meanwhile, are mentally drafting a will because you’re not sure your heart’s going to survive the rest of this visit.

He leans over your couch armrest to reach the outlet near the floor. His cargo pants pull slightly tighter around his thighs and you look away so fast you give yourself whiplash. You try to look normal, like a woman who isn’t catastrophically horny over someone adjusting your voltage.

You: HE ASKED IF I HAD A BOYFRIEND

Sana: I AM SCREAMING. I’M IN LINE AT TRADER JOE’S. OFFER TO MAKE HIM LEMONADE OR SIT ON HIS FACE IDK CHOOSE FAST

He stands back up, wiping his palms on that stupid fucking rag again, and glances over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t take much longer,” he quips with that lazy, dangerous smile.

You nod, eyes wide, pretending you’re normal. “Cool. Thanks. No rush or anything. It’s not like I need power to… survive.”

He quirks a brow at that, like he finds you kind of funny, or kind of tragic.

You sit on the couch, phone hidden in your lap like it’s a shameful secret. He crouches near another outlet, testing something with one of those little gadgets that beeps and blinks.

“So, marketing,” he says over his shoulder. “Like… ads?”

You blink. “Uh. Yeah. I work for a beauty brand. Mostly social media, some campaign strategy. Lots of pretending I know what I’m doing and hoping the algorithm doesn’t hate me that day.”

He chuckles. That low, amused sound that makes your toes curl. “That why you’re so good at talking?”

You freeze. “What?”

He glances back, smile creeping in slow and lazy. There’s an unfortunate amount of sarcasm behind his tone. “You seem to stumble a bit over words.”

You blink again, officially out of working brain cells. “Sorry. I—I can stop. I don’t mean to be annoying, I just—”

“I didn’t say it was annoying.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it. He crouches lower again, tapping something against the outlet. But you hear it anyway and feel it, low in your stomach like a dropped elevator.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, blessedly interrupting the moment before you combust.

Sana: girl. do i need to walk around the block or are you gonna fuck him. be honest.

You bite your lip so hard you nearly draw blood. He straightens up, wiping his palms again. “So do you like it? The job?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It’s… stressful. But fun, sometimes. I guess,” You scratch the back of your neck.

“You good at it?” He grunts out, looking for something in his toolbox.

Your mind blanks. “What?”

He turns to look at you full-on now, arms crossed, shirt clinging to the curve of his shoulders. “Marketing. All that stuff. You good at it?”

You let out a nervous little laugh. “I mean, I hope so. I’ve been doing it for a few years now, and nobody’s fired me yet.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His tone isn’t aggressive. It’s low and relaxed. But something about the way he says it makes your pulse skip.

“I… I think I am,” you say, slower this time.

He nods once as if that answer pleases him. “You seem like you’d be.”

You’re gonna die. You’re going to actually die. This man is being nice to you, and it feels like your body isn’t prepared for that level of stimulus.

You glance at your phone again.

Sana: WHY ARE YOU TAKING THIS LONG TO RESPOND??? IS HIS DICK OUT. BLINK TWICE

You look back up and he’s leaning against the doorframe that divides your kitchen and living room now, arms still crossed, lip ring catching the light. “So your roommate…?”

You nod, trying not to choke. “Yeah. Her name’s Sana. We’ve lived together since college.”

“She at work?” You swear he looks at your legs in your shorts, but could also be wishful thinking.

“Not right now. She works night shifts at the hospital 15 minutes away from here.,” You twiddle your thumbs in your lap.

He hums, still watching you. “So you’re here all alone today.”

It’s not a question. It shouldn’t be hot. It’s just a sentence. But, the way he says it? The tone? The slight lilt at the end, like it means more than it says?

You let out a strangled sound that you hope reads as a laugh. “Yeah. Just me. Alone. In this… apartment. Where you are. Currently.”

He tilts his head, smiling again. “You’re kind of funny for someone with no electricity.”

You hesitate. Then, blurting before you can stop yourself, “And you’re kind of cocky for someone who still hasn’t turned my lights on yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly appearing. “Hm?”

You shake your head way too fast. “I mean—just—like, you’ve been here for a bit now and you’re fixing my power and it is taking quite long, but I promise I’m not mad about it.. I’m sorry.”

He lets out a real laugh this time. Full, low, and stupidly hot. He pushes off the wall and walks back toward the kitchen like he didn’t just wreck your central nervous system.

You take another breath and text Sana.

You: he’s flirting. he’s literally flirting. i want to crawl inside the oven

Sana: girl. jump on the counter and say “while you’re fixing things, i’m also broken.”

Almost like he was trying to prove a point to you, the lights come back on with a quiet click, a whirr of electricity humming back to life through your walls, and you swear the sound might as well be a death knell.

He steps back from the panel in your hallway, tapping the side of it with a knuckle like he just fixed your entire infrastructure. “There we go,” he says, “Should be good now. Might’ve just been a loose connection behind the breaker, it’s common in these old buildings.”

You nod slowly, like you understood a single word of that. All you really heard was competency and your brain whispered: breedable.

“That’s… great,” you reply, way too softly. “Thanks.”

He wipes his hands again on that same rag and starts packing up his tools, metal clicking together as he slips things back into place. His forearm flexes with every movement, tattoos shifting across his skin like they’re in on the joke.

“Need help with anything else?” he asks casually, not looking at you as he zips up the tool bag. His voice dips slightly.

Your heart stutters. You should say actually, yeah, my back is acting up and I think the solution involves that couch and maybe you using me like a handrail. But instead you go, “Nope. That’s all.”

Your phone vibrates against your thigh, dragging you back to earth.

Sana: have you ever heard of blue collar dick??? this is ur chance

You squint at that text, thumbs pausing mid-reply.

Blue collar dick.

The phrase unlocks something buried deep in your brain. A memory. A TikTok you watched half-asleep one night at 1:37AM, under the glow of your LED lights, while eating dry cereal out of a mug. The girl had looked straight into the camera, wide-eyed and deadly serious, and whispered: “Blue collar dick is not just a concept. It’s a lifestyle. It’s the kind of unholy grip someone develops on you after a man with calloused hands and a union paycheck fixes your sink and rearranges your soul in the same afternoon.”

You’d laughed. Scoffed, even. How dramatic.

He zips up the last pouch on his tool bag and stands tall, glancing toward the door like he might head that way but he doesn’t. He stays.

He rolls his shoulder a little, absently adjusting the strap, and you watch his fingers drag across the curve of his neck.

“You think everything working alright?” he asks, voice low and unhurried like he’s trying to fill the silence. Like he knows you’re still stuck in some sort of horny trance and he’s being generous enough to let you catch up.

“Yeah,” you say, breathier than intended. “Power’s on. Looks like the WiFi is back. I can check if my laptop came back to life.”

You gesture toward your computer like it matters. Like any of that is worth focusing on when he is standing six feet from you.

He hums, looking around your living room where you’re still on your couch. “Place is cute.”

You blink. “Oh. Uh. Thanks. It’s… falling apart slowly, but charming.”

He doesn’t really acknowledge that. “Anything else broken in here?” he asks, stepping away from the wall a little. “Leaky faucet? Shaky table leg? My dad taught me how to fix a ton of stuff, I’m pretty handy with anything. You want me to check something else?”

Your mouth opens and closes. Your brain struggles to find the words, and the words you want to say are not coming out easily, so you just respond with, “No. I mean… no, I think we’re good. You fixed the lights.”

His eyes flicker and stay on you just a second too long. Then he shifts slightly, sets the tool box down again with a thud, and stretches his arms overhead like he’s got nowhere to be. Shirt rides up just enough for you to see the line of his waistband and the shadow of toned skin beneath it, and you almost bite your tongue off.

“You sure?” he asks again, tone casual, almost amused now. “You looked kinda… bummed when the lights came back on.”

Your head jerks up. “What? No. I wasn’t.. I mean, not bummed. Just surprised. Happy. Grateful. Electrified, if you will.”

Electrified. You’re going to throw yourself off the balcony.

He laughs again, and you swear it vibrates in your chest. “I could hang out a sec,” he offers, and it’s not subtle anymore. “Just make sure everything stays stable. Sometimes the lights will turn back off randomly.”

Everything’s stable, you repeat in your brain like an idiot. I am not.

He’s leaning one shoulder against the wall now, lazy and relaxed, eyes still on you like he’s just waiting to see what you’ll say next.

Before your brain can stop your mouth from doing anything reckless, you blurt out, “Have you eaten?”

His brows lift. “What?”

You clear your throat. “Lunch. Have you had any?”

He tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your mouth for one half-second too long. “Not yet,” he says, “Didn’t get the chance.”

You nod like this is normal. Like offering sandwiches to electricians with tool belts and stupidly sexy mullets is part of your daily routine. “I can make you something if you want.”

His mouth curves, slow and teasing. “Yeah? You feed all the guys your landlord sends over?”

You roll your eyes so hard they nearly eject from your skull. “Only the ones who save me from having to live in darkness.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Then yeah. I’m kinda hungry.”

He walks over to where you’re sitting, drops his bag beside the couch, stretches with a casual groan that shoots straight between your thighs, and flops onto your couch like he’s done it a hundred times. Like your couch is a perfectly acceptable throne for his man-spreading, bicep-showcasing, very-much-staying presence.

You twiddle your fingers, “If i make you food, it’s only right if I get your name.”

Smooth. Real fucking smooth.

“Jungkook,” He looks over to you, trying to bite back a grin. “And yours is [Y/N], right? Saw it on the assignment sheet.”

“Cool,” You gulp down some saliva that was lodged in your throat.

You march to the kitchen like a woman on a mission, flinging the fridge open with the determination of someone prepping for an exorcism. It’s not that you want to impress him. It’s just that… okay. No. You do want to impress him. You want to serve this man a sandwich so good he files a formal complaint against your thighs for being too far from his face.

You find good bread. Not the sad white slices. You find turkey. Cheese. Lettuce that isn’t slimy. A tomato you aggressively pat dry with a paper towel like a psychotic housewife. You toast the bread and add a little mustard. You even cut the sandwich diagonally, because if you’re going to be delusional, you’re going to be domestically deranged about it.

Your phone buzzes for the billionth time.

Sana: DID YOU FUCK HIM YET

You ignore her. You grab a little paper plate with a cup of water and a napkin and present this meal like you are some Michelin chef. You walk it out carefully, feeling like you should have a white linen apron and one of those vintage Coke ads playing behind you.

“Damn,” he says when you hand it to him, voice warm with surprise. “You really went all out.”

You shrug, trying to act chill. “Just a sandwich.”

He takes a bite and groans.“No, this is next level. Wife-tier sandwich.”

Your face goes hot. You sit down beside him on the couch, one cushion away, legs crossed, heart racing. You grab your phone and finally reply to Sana before she drives to the apartment and physically removes you.

You: sana i need you to take a lap. actually take a five-mile lap. this house needs to be mine for two hours minimum.

Sana: i will literally be gone until sunset

You set your phone down and glance at him again. He’s halfway through the sandwich already, clearly enjoying the hell out of it, crumbs on his fingers, lip ring glinting as he chews.

“So,” you say casually, “how’d you get into electrical work?”

He swallows, wipes his mouth, and shrugs. “Started out helping my uncle with his crew back home. Learned enough on the job that I stuck with it. Took the exam, got certified, picked up my own clients.”

“That’s hot,” you say before thinking.

He pauses, blinks, then smirks again. “Yeah?”

You want to shrivel into the cushions. “I mean, just like the hands-on thing. Fixing stuff. Being good with your hands.”

He glances at you, faintly amused. “It’s a bold choice… Flirting with the guy who knows your wires inside out better than you ever could.”

You’ve made your decision. You’ve committed to the bit. You’re going to have him. You don’t care how. You don’t care if it’s a terrible idea. You’re already halfway there, and if blue collar dick is a myth, you’d like to be the one to confirm or deny it firsthand. You smile, tilting your head. “I like living on the edge.”

He finishes the sandwich and sets the plate on your coffee table with a little sigh. “Damn. Guess I should’ve been in this line of work sooner.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him through your lashes like you’re not actively in the process of losing your mind.

He shifts slightly on the couch, one arm thrown casually along the back cushion, knee brushing yours now, and your whole body tightens at the contact. You look down at his hand, rough, calloused, fingers spread just enough to imagine what they’d feel like anywhere else.

Focus. Focus.

“So,” you start, aiming for casual but landing somewhere around unhinged, “do you, like… do this for a lot of people?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Fix electricity?”

You laugh too fast. “No! Well, yeah. I mean. Yes. But like… do you do this for one person a lot? Regularly? Like… someone special. Like a client. A consistent client.”

He’s still watching you, brows slightly raised, clearly trying to follow your logic. “Huh?”

You look down, embarrassed. Shit. Too subtle. You double back. “Sorry, I meant… like… is there someone who, you know, gets their power fixed all the time? Like a… girlfriend?”

Oh my god. Girlfriend. You say it like you’ve never spoken English before, like the concept of casual inquiry never existed.

His lips tugging up like he knows exactly what you’re asking. “Nah,” he replies. “No girlfriend.”

He reaches for the glass of water you’d set on the coffee table earlier, and you watch his throat work as he takes a slow gulp. His lip ring catches the light again, and your brain completely flatlines.

No girlfriend.

No girlfriend. That’s… fine. That’s great. That’s also dangerous.

Your heart is pounding so loud in your ears you barely register that he hasn’t looked away. When he sets the glass down again, his eyes don’t drift back to his phone or the room or the vague distance.

They stay locked on you.

You shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of how close you’re sitting. His fingers are still relaxed against the couch cushion, a breath away from the curve of your shoulder.

“Should I expect a full background check with your next outage?”he says, voice low now.

You’re officially in the danger zone now with no intentions of stopping. “Already ran yours. Five star reviews all around. “

He chuckles, quietly. “I’m honored.”

Your breath catches. It’s a small sound. Barely audible. But his gaze dips lower at the sound of it, flickering between your mouth and your throat. He doesn’t hide it anymore. There’s no playfulness left.

“Stop staring” you mutter, trying to keep your voice even.

He lifts a brow. “I’m not.”

“Are you… thinking about kissing me?” This is worse than that one time in 10th grade when you got put in a closet with your crush and you practically slammed him against the door begging him to kiss you.

However, Jungkook doesn’t smile or smile. His gaze lingers on your lips still like he’s counting the seconds. “Would that be a problem?”

Your stomach drops. The air between you turns solid. “No,” you say softly. “It’d be the opposite of a problem.”

He doesn’t move right away, or lunge and lean in. He lets the silence fill with heat, with potential, like he wants you to feel the choice stretch out and make sure you want it just as much as he does. (Is he insane? Of course you do)

You want him to kiss you so bad it’s physically painful. Every nerve in your body is waiting for it, screaming for it, for the weight of his hand on your jaw, the feel of his lip ring pressing into yours.

You inch just slightly closer and your knee brushes against his fully now. Your face is tilted up toward his without even thinking.

“Are you gonna?” you whisper, voice barely there.

His eyes flicker again and then he smiles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He leans in, not in some clumsy rush. He drags it out just long enough for you to feel your whole body tense with anticipation. His hand finds your jaw first, thumb brushing your cheek, fingers curling gently under your chin.

And then his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you like it’s his job, like he’s done this a thousand times but still finds something new in the shape of your lips. His mouth moves with intention, none of that awkward fumbling, none of the soft, shy hesitation. It’s confident. His lip ring drags against your lower lip and you actually whimper, because of course he knows how to use it.

He groans low in his throat when your fingers knot in the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. One hand slips around the back of your neck, the other finding your waist, pulling you across the couch and into him like he can’t stand even a breath of space between you.

He tastes like faint mint and the sandwich you made him. Your legs shift, tangling with his. His hand is already on your thigh, rough palm skimming under the hem of your shorts, gripping hard enough to make your breath stutter into his mouth.

You gasp when he bites down lightly, but enough to make you feel it. He soothes it with a kiss immediately after, dragging his mouth down your jaw, and murmurs into your skin, “You’re a good kisser.”

You could die. You could die right now and it would be worth it.

You tilt your head back to give him more access, voice breathless. “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself.”

That earns you another groan, this one deeper, more possessive. His hand slides up your side, under your hoodie, fingers grazing bare skin and making your back arch instinctively.

He kisses you again, messier now and wetter. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing. His fingers sink into your thigh, pull you closer until you’re practically straddling him on the couch and you feel him, hard beneath his cargo pants, pressed against your hip like a threat.

“You sure you don’t need anything else fixed?” he murmurs against your mouth.

And all you can do is nod, eyes heavy, hands trembling against his chest as you whisper: “Hmm. I think my body is out of order. Needs fixing.”

Big hands grip your thighs, and with one swift, greedy motion, he’s pushing you back into the couch cushions. You land with a quiet gasp, hair fanned out, lips swollen, hoodie riding up over your stomach.

He’s hovering, body caged above yours, weight pressed into one arm braced beside your head, the other skimming up your waist and dragging your hoodie even higher. His silver chain dangles loose from his neck and every time he leans down to kiss you again, it smacks against your throat, cold and heavy, sending a shiver straight through you.

He groans when you arch up into him, letting your hips roll slightly, needy and desperate, and he feels it, feels how bad you want him and how worked up you are.

His bicep flexes beside your head, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you but you kind of wish he would. You let your hand drift up, fingertips grazing the muscle slowly, shamelessly.

Holy fuck, he’s strong.

Strong in the way that makes your thighs press together, that makes you want to find out what else those arms can hold you down against. You squeeze just a little, test the resistance, and he grins against your lips.

“That’s what you’re thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, dragging his mouth to your neck now, teeth grazing your jaw. “My arms?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your brain is literally melting.

He licks a stripe up the side of your throat and bites, just enough to make you whimper, and the damn chain swings again, cold against the same spot.

“You like that?” he asks, “Hmm?”

You nod frantically, whining. You’re gone.

His hand slides down to grip your thigh again, hiking it up around his waist, and the angle has you gasping. His hips dip into yours just enough to make it obvious: he’s hard, and he’s not even trying to hide it now.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” he mutters, biting your earlobe. “Since you fed me and everything. Feels only fair.”

You nod again, breathless. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, lips brushing yours. “Been thinkin’ about kissing you since the second you opened that door.”

His hands are already slipping under the hem of your hoodie, thumbs dragging across the skin of your waist as he mutters, low and sinful, “Lift your hips for me.”

You do instantly and he slides your shorts down so slowly it feels like punishment. They snag slightly at your thighs before he gets them off, flinging them somewhere over the armrest, and then he just stares. Lets his eyes drag from your knees to the place between your thighs like he’s about to pray and commit a felony in the same breath.

You’re not even fully naked, but you already feel exposed. Every part of you twitching with anticipation because the way this man looks at you? It’s like he already knows what you taste like.

He lowers himself, right between your knees and spreads your legs open with two hands and drags your body closer to him.

“You’re already shaking,” he whispers, lips brushing along the inside of your thigh. “What’s got you so worked up, sweetheart?”

You want to answer. You try to answer. But then he presses a kiss right above your knee, then lower and lower. It’s like he’s savoring every inch of you, kissing a trail up your thigh like you’re dessert and he’s been starving all day.

When he finally gets to your underwear, he lets out a low hum.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, thumb dragging along the edge. “You’re soaked.”

You choke on your own spit. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, and looks up at you, eyes dark. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching him like you’re in a live-action fantasy, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Gonna take these off now,” he says, almost too gently.

You nod like a bobblehead. “Please.”

He tugs them down painfully slow, and when they slip off your legs and drop to the floor, he doesn’t even hesitate. He just dives in.

Tongue flat, broad, ruthless against you, dragging through your folds. You jolt, hips bucking off the couch, and his hands immediately slide up to pin you down, fingers bruising your thighs as he holds you in place.

He moans into you, tongue curling, lips wrapping around your clit with slow, maddening pressure. The suction makes you cry out, hand flying to grab at his hair, soft, messy strands you curl your fingers into.

“Fuck, J-Jungkook,” you gasp. His grip tightens on your thighs in response. He flattens his tongue again, licking long and slow, nose nudging against your clit just enough to make your legs shake. Then he shifts, tilts his head just slightly, and flicks the tip of his tongue in tight, fast circles.

You swear you see God.

He doesn’t stop, and it’s obscene how good it is. You can hear it. Mapping out every flick, every swirl, every suck that makes your thighs twitch and your head fall back in helpless, high-pitched whines.

He’s so good at it, it’s almost infuriating. Like he’s been training for this specific moment, like he knew your body before you ever laid eyes on his goddamn toolbelt.

“Shit,” you whimper, your fingers gripping the edge of the couch like you’ll fall off the earth if he keeps going.

He pulls back barely, enough to murmur against your soaked skin, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

You look down at him, wide-eyed and desperate, and the sight makes your stomach flip.

His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, locked on yours with zero shame. His lips are wet, his lip ring gleaming, his chain dragging down your thigh. His hands are still gripping your legs tight. “You’re already shaking,” he taunts, “You gonna fall apart before I even get my fingers in?”

You let out a sound you don’t recognize. Your hips buck without permission, trying to chase more friction, more pressure, anything, and he laughs.

“Thought you were gonna take it,” he mutters, kissing your inner thigh again, right where it’s already slick. “Thought you were tough.”

“Jungkook,” Your voice breaks.

“Yeah, baby?” he smiles, “Want more?”

You nod frantically. “Please. Please, please.”

“Mmhmm.” He drags his tongue back up, slow and torturous. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want—” you gasp as he suckles your clit again, just hard enough to make your legs spasm. “I want your fingers please. I can’t—”

“You can,” he says, way too calm. “You’re gonna. Not done with you yet.”

He slides one hand down between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, slow and unhurried. You feel the first press of his fingertip at your entrance and it’s over.

When he finally pushes in just one thick finger, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. It feels so good, too good.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he notes more to himself than to you. “Fuck. Gripping already.”

He curls his finger and you practically wail. You slap a hand over your mouth but he sees it, and then lowers his mouth back down to your clit like he’s starving for it.

His tongue and his finger move in tandem. Circles and pressure and heat all at once, building you up, pushing you higher, dragging desperate sounds out of you that you’ve never made before.

“Jungkook, fuck, please,” you sob, grabbing at his hair. “Please, I need—”

“You need what?” he murmurs against you, adding a second finger slowly, the stretch perfect, his mouth never leaving your clit.

“I need, need to cum, please—”

“Nah,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours as his fingers start to fuck into you even deeper, “Not yet.”

You’re near tears at this point.

He flattens his tongue and moans into you, and your hips jerk off the couch. Your hands are clutching at him now, your stomach tightening, thighs trembling around his head as he talks you through it.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he exhales, eyes locked on your face. “All needy and loud. Fuck, baby. I could eat you all day.”

You’re so close it hurts. He can feel it, the way your walls clench around his fingers, sucking him in.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, voice hoarse against you. “Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

And you do, embarrassingly hard. It crashes over you like a power surge, hot and fast and blinding. Your hips jerk, your mouth drops open in a silent cry, and you’re cumming so hard you forget your own name.

He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, until your legs are shaking uncontrollably and you’re pushing at his shoulder with a broken gasp.

Still, he doesn’t let up. His tongue is relentless, fingers even more ruthless. You’re sweating, teary-eyed and so close you’re practically vibrating, when you finally snap.

“Jungkook,” you moan, throat raw. “I need you to fuck me. Please. I can’t—“

That gets him to cease. He pulls back, mouth soaked, lip ring gleaming. His hand lingers between your thighs for a second longer before he pushes himself up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.

You reach up, fingers clutching the front of his shirt, dragging him down so you can kiss him. You taste yourself on his tongue, and it just makes it worse, makes you needier.

He stands up, stripping down as fast as humanly possible. The black tee comes off first, revealing a chest that’s all muscle, abs that flex when he tosses the shirt aside. Then the cargo pants get shoved down, and…

Holy fucking shit.

It swings free and heavy into his palm, and you gasp.

That’s what they meant by blue collar dick. Thick, veiny, the prettiest goddamn cock you’ve ever seen. Long, curved just right, flushed and leaking at the tip as he wraps his hand around the base and starts stroking himself, slow and lazy.

He tilts his head back with a low groan, lashes fluttering, chain swinging over his chest and you just stare.

You’ve seen good dick before. You’ve had great dick, even. This is different. This is the kind of dick that installs central air and breaks bed frames. The kind that fucks through creaky floorboards, says “good girl” like a prophet, and pays in cash everywhere.

“Yeah?” he rasps, still jerking himself slowly, eyes dark as he looks down at you. “You want it, baby?”

You nod like your life depends on it. “Please. Need it so bad.”

He doesn’t waste another second. “Turn over,” he says, voice commanding. “Face down, ass up. I want that spine arched.”

You scramble to obey, flipping onto your stomach, shoving your hoodie up out of the way. You bury your face in the couch cushion, arms stretched forward, hips high in the air and the sound Jungkook makes behind you is inhuman.

“Fucking hell,” he licks his lips, hands gripping your hips, thumbs spreading you open. “Look at you.”

You feel him line up behind you, thick head sliding through your slick folds, teasing but not pushing in yet, and your whole body twitches.

“You’re perfect like this,” he says, one hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades until your arch deepens. “Back all pretty, ass in the air, soaked for me. Fuck, baby.”

He leans forward, voice rasping hot in your ear. “You gonna take it for me like this, yeah? Gonna let me fuck you nice and deep?”

You moan out, whimpering into the pillow. “Yes. Yes, please.”

“Atta girl.”

He pushes in slow, allowing you to feel every inch. You feel the thick, burning stretch of him as he sinks in deeper, splitting you open around his cock. Your breath catches on a whimper, eyes rolling back as he fills you.

“Fuuuuck,” you choke out, voice strangled. “You’re so big.”

Behind you, Jungkook lets out a guttural groan.

“Yeah?” he rasps, still sliding in, forcing your walls to open around him. “That too much for you, baby?”

You shake your head, barely able to breathe, cheek pressed into the cushion. “No, no, it’s so good, just, fuck—”

He bottoms out, hips flush against your ass, and you swear you see stars. You’re so full it’s almost unbearable, like he’s in your stomach, You’ve never felt anything like it; your walls clenching, dripping, pulsing and he’s barely even moved yet.

He pulls out halfway and slams back in, then does it again… and again… and again.

His pace is brutal, deep, pounding thrusts that send shockwaves through your spine and bounce off the walls. Skin slapping, the obscene wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in over and over, the couch creaking beneath you. You’re a full mess under him, and he’s moaning now too.

“Fuck,”Jungkook growls behind you, breath ragged. “You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me?”

You do. The sound of your pussy squelching around his cock is loud, echoing with every thrust as your juices coat his length and drip down your thighs onto the couch cushions below.

“Fucking soaked,” he growls again, hips snapping into you.

His hand finds your hair, grabbing a fistful at the base of your neck and pulling. Your head lifts from the pillow you grabbed from nearby in a panic, back arched to its limit, body bent like a bowstring as he fucks into you harder now that he has you right where he wants you.

“Taking it so good, baby,” he pants, yanking your head back just enough to make you moan. He keeps pounding into you, dragging that cock so deep it feels like he’s carving himself into your soul, keeping your head held high by your hair, whispering filth that makes your legs shake.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” he growls, tone thick and mean. “Wanna fall apart right here on my cock?”

You’re shaking too hard to answer, all that’s coming out are some babbles you nor him have any energy to interpret. Somehow, your brain flashes back to that fucking TikTok. That girl that described “blue collar dick” like it was some natural disaster.

Now you’re living it.

You’re bent over on your own couch, spine arched, tears in your eyes, unable to even think as Jungkook wrecks you with his cock and whispers filthy praise in your ear like it’s his job. This is blue collar dick. This is the goddamn thesis statement of that TikTok. You’re going to send that girl flowers.

“Please,” you cry, “Please, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he pants, breath hot against your neck as his fingers reach down and work your clit cruelly enough to keep you from tipping over. “That desperate for it, sweetheart?”

You nod, choking out sobs, your body twitching around him, clenching hard enough that he starts to fall apart.

“Fuck,” he groans, cock twitching inside you. “You’re so tight. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum before you do.”

You moan loud into the pillow, your whole body wrecked and burning, still locked in this purgatory he’s created, his cock fucking you deep and hard, his fingers rolling over your clit with precision, holding you right there.

“Say it,” he growls, “Tell me how bad you need it.”

“I need it, please, I need it so bad. I can’t, I’m so close, please let me cum.” Your self -control has exited the apartment.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he grits out behind you, “Fuck, baby, feel how tight you are? How bad your pussy wants to cum for me?”

You can’t answer. You’re drooling into the pillow, gasping, your body jerking with every thrust like you’re being electrocuted.

“Let go,” he groans, voice shaking. “You’re gonna cum for me now, yeah? Go on, baby. Fucking cum.”

The second his thumb presses tightly just right against your clit, you shatter. It hits you like a wave. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, back arching so hard it lifts your hips even higher as your orgasm rips through you, hot and overwhelming. You scream as your pussy clenches around his cock, pulsing and gushing as you cum so hard your vision goes white.

Your arms give out completely. You collapse forward onto the couch with a breathless sob, ass still arched up as your cunt throbs around him, wetness dripping down your thighs in sticky trails. Your face is buried in the cushion, your legs are trembling.

“Oh my fuck,” Jungkook groans, “Just like that. You feel that, baby? Feel how good it is when you cum on me?”

He curses, pulls out fast and you let out a weak little cry at the loss, at the ache he leaves behind.

But then he’s jerking himself over you, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, wrist snapping fast, hips stuttering as he pants over you, chasing his own high.

His head tilts back, bottom lip tucked under his top teeth. A deep, broken moan is ripped straight from his chest as his hips twitch forward and he spills across the curve of your ass in thick, hot ropes. His chain swings with the motion, clinking gently as he fucks his fist through it, painting your skin in messy, perfect streaks.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he groans, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re… fuck, baby. You’re unreal.”

You’re too far gone to speak.

You stay face-down on the couch for a full minute post-impact, naked and glazed like a donut.

Jungkook exhales somewhere behind you, like he too is processing the life-altering events that just occurred in your living room. You hear his body move as he leans back, chest rising and falling, the distinct sound of a man who just came so hard he forgot his social security number.

There’s cum on your ass. Your hair’s stuck to your cheek. The throw pillow has a bite mark in it. You are not well.

You finally lift your head a fraction of an inch. “I think I just met God.”

Jungkook lets out a soft, post-nut laugh. “Yeah?” he rasps. “Tell him I said hi.”

You look over at him from where you’re sprawled out on the couch, now on your stomach. “…So do I owe you money, or…?”

He snorts. “For what?”

“For fixing my power?” You say it like it’s obvious.. which it should be.

Jungkook leans over and smacks your ass, casual, affectionate. “Nah. This one’s on the house.”

Eventually, he helps you sit up, grabbing the nearest clean towel in your bathroom like this is all completely normal. You look at each other and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry or call your landlord and thank him for being so aggressively useless.

You’ll deal with that later.

Right now, you accept the towel, take a shaky breath. You blink at him, dazed, legs still jelly. “So if I break something else… just a hypothetical, should i call you..?”

He smirks, tugs his pants back up without bothering to button them, and says, “Depends. If you break something else, I expect a personal invitation. No middleman this time.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[jung-koook]

[482/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡ (cr. ouranxingg)

[hyyhhope]

euphoria ⟡ love yourself in london

cr. namuspromised

[jkvjimin]

(227/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡ cr. @jung-koook

[jjungkkook]

[my-kookie-jar]

Gorgeous

Jung Kook for Weverse Magazine

cr. ouranxingg

[gleamingseok]

I want to say I love your imagination. Absolutely amazing smut!! Can you please write a fic where Jungkook wears glasses & the OC is obsessed with his geeky look so much that she can't keep her hands off of him. Make him soft dom, and the dynamic should be switched themed where he let's her use him but bam! Switch & he shows her how he can wreck her if he wants to. Let the roleplay be with glasses on please and make the actual fucking a bit longer. Thank you so much in advance🫶🏽 I love your work so far, thanks for all the fics

Hello love💖 ~ first of all WOW your imagination ?! Absolutely incredible! Loved the concept the second I read it and it was really so fun *and hot* bringing it to life, thank you for trusting me with your idea and for the sweetest message. I'm super grateful for your support it means everything!

I hope you’ll enjoy the piece as much as I enjoyed writing it and that it hits just the way you imagined~

Beneath the lenses

Genre: Smut , PWP , Soft Dom/Switch Jungkook

Rating: Explicit (18+)

The second you walked into the apartment and saw him, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, the famous grey sweatpants and a black tee clinging to his body, messy hair like he’d been dragging his hands through it all day. It drove you fucking insane. and your entire day vanished. Gone. Immediately replaced by a deep, throbbing ache between your thighs.

"..You're wearing them again" you muttered, dropping your bag and walking toward him like prey entranced by its own predator.

Jungkook glanced up from his laptop, one brow arching over the rim of his glasses. “Oh yeah, I didn’t feel like putting in contacts… Too tired"

You hummed in response, sliding behind him and wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. His smell was addictive just like clean laundry and something earthy sandalwood maybe and you pressed your lips right behind his ear.

"You really have no idea what that look does to me" You said while moving around the chair, straddling him right there at his desk. His hands came to rest on your thighs automatically, fingertips teasing the hem of your skirt as you straddled him and leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth, his jaw, behind his ear. "It’s like... fuck, Jungkook, I just want to ruin you."

Jungkook let out a soft exhale of a laugh, shaking his head like he found your need amusing. “You’re the one ruining yourself, baby,” he murmured, kissing your throat. “But if you need it that bad, go ahead. I’ll let you use me.”

You leaned in, slowly, your lips ghosting over his. “Let me ride you, Koo. Just like this”

He gave you that devastating grin, half-tease, half-surrender “ I’m all yours.”

You made quick work of his sweatpants, pulling them down just a tiny bit to free him, and he was already half hard from your teasing. He hissed when you took him in hand, fingers closing around the thick length and slowly stroking him.

“Gosh you’re such a good boy for me” you whispered, kissing along his jaw until you reached his lips. “Letting me use you like this”

He moaned into your mouth, hips twitching up when you lined him up and sank down slowly Inch by inch stretching you and filling you. The desk chair creaked, his hands gripping your hips so tight, as if he was trying not to buck up too hard.

You rolled your hips, setting the pace. His eyes stayed locked on yours through those perfect fucking glasses, lips parted panting.

“F-Fuck, you look so good like this” you whined. “All mine. My little nerd” His breath hitched sharp and guttural ripping from his throat like it had been trapped there, waiting for you to ruin him. Your warmth, your wetness and the tightness of your pussy as it enveloped him inch by inch and it was fucking overwhelming. His hands flexed instinctively against your thighs, nails digging in just a little as his cock throbbed inside you.

You moaned above him and all he could do was not to beg. His jaw clenched, his eyes fluttered behind the lenses. God, you were so wet slick and hot and pulsing around him like your body had been waiting for this just as long as his had. Jungkook let you ride. Savouring every movement as it sent pleasure up his spine, every grind made his cock jump helplessly inside you. He wanted to thrust up, to fuck into you like he needed to breathe, but he surprisingly held still, every muscle in his body coiled tight with restraint. His hands trembled where they held you, his chest started rising fast beneath her fingers.

At that moment you thought you were in control. You kept your eyes locked on his through the lenses. Every time you bounced on his cock the tension in his body grew, but he didn’t stop you.

“You like watching me take it, don’t you?” you gasped, sweat slicking your skin as you worked your hips over him, riding harder now. “Like when I use you like this.”

He nodded once, eyes hooded, jaw tense. “Y-yeah, baby. Yours. Use me. Take what you want”

And you were. Your walls were fluttering, clenching around him, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon you cried out every time his cock hit that spot inside you. You were close so close and he knew it. Which is exactly when everything changed.

Until he moved.

He didn’t say a word just grabbed the back of your neck with one hand and pulled you down hard, lips crashing into yours as he stood up from the chair in one fluid motion. You yelped into his mouth, arms scrambling around his shoulders as he walked you across the room. His cock never slipped out not even once as he laid you down flat on the bed, never breaking the kiss.

And then he wasn’t still anymore.

He fucked into you hard from the first thrust, driving the air out of your lungs as his hands slid under your shirt, he didn’t even take it off just shoved it high enough to expose your tits, and then his mouth was on them devouring them. His tongue circled your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you cry out. His hips didn’t stop moving. They were punishing now, slamming into you again and again while he switched to the other nipple, wet and hungry.

“Think you’re in charge?” he murmured against your skin, voice dark and low. “You think I was just gonna let you use me and walk away?”

He grabbed your jaw then—his other hand fisting in your hair—and yanked your head back until you were staring up at him, staring at that fucking sexy, dark look turning feral. helpless, wrecked. Your chest heaved. Your body shook. You could barely think.

“You’ve got three seconds to beg.”

Your breath hitched. “W-what?”

“Beg me to let you cum” he growled, face close, forehead pressed to yours. “Say it. Say you need it”

Your hips bucked up instinctively, chasing the friction, but he pulled out almost all the way and held you there teasing, throbbing at your entrance, giving you just enough to feel the ache grow unbearable.

“Please” you whispered.

He didn’t move “Louder”

“Please, Jungkook, let me cum—fuck—I need it, I need you so bad, I can’t-”

He slammed back into you with a guttural sound, hips snapping into a rhythm that made your eyes roll back. He grunted with every thrust now, breathing hard, sweat dripping onto your chest as he ruined you, one stroke at a time.

“You think you were using me” he growled, dragging his cock deep and slow. “But I was just waiting.”

You were a mess beneath him now, trembling, barely able to breathe, your nails clawing at his back as he fucked you straight into oblivion. His mouth returned to your tits, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, moaning against your skin while your body convulsed around him.

You were already cumming before you even realized it, your pussy clenching so tight around him it punched a groan out of his throat. He didn’t stop. "Next time you get ideas about using me," he whispered, kissing your shoulder, “remember who really owns this pussy.” He fucked you through your orgasm, rough and relentless.

When he was close, he wrapped that hand in your hair again, yanked you up off the bed so your faces were inches apart, lips brushing, sweat mingling.

“I’m gonna fill you up” he whispered, voice ragged. “You want it?”

You nodded furiously, voice gone. You didn’t even have words left to beg with.

And then he was cumming deep inside you, cock pulsing with thick, hot release that filled you to the brim. He held you tight, breathing hard against your cheek, cock twitching inside your spent, soaked cunt.

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. You just lay there, trembling and ruined, barely even blinking as he finally pulled out and looked down at you with that same steady, calm gaze.

The glasses were still on.

And now, you knew the truth. You were never in control. Not even for a second.

After a long, delicious silence, he finally looked down at you, sweat dripping off his jaw.

“You still like the glasses, baby?”

You smiled, breathless. “Now I like them even more”

He didn’t go far. Just disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, then came back with a warm towel and that soft, quiet attentiveness he only showed you after he’d completely wrecked you. He cleaned you gently, murmuring a low “Good girl” when you flinched from the sensitivity. You were too dazed to move, but he wrapped you up in his arms, tucked your head under his chin, and let you lay on his chest, fingers tracing slow circles on your back. “You okay?” he whispered. You nodded, breathing him in, smiling against his skin. He kissed the top of your head and added, “Next time, I’ll let you think you’re in charge a little longer.”

[skatazz]

Fantasies fulfilled (Jeon Jungkook one shot)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook & Reader (y/n or you isn’t used in this!)

Date posted: April 4th, 2025

Warnings: kissing, swearing, oral (m), slapping of d!ck onto tongue, dirty talking, slight size kink (big d!ck), caught red handed turning into a learning that her man is just as she imagined about, fingering (f), spanking, dom jungkook, aftercare.

Genre: Boyfriend!Jungkook x F!Reader (many other nicknames are used instead of y/n)

Context: Things become a little frisky after Jungkook walks in on his girlfriend writing back a filthy smut reply to her role play partner to which she accidentally wrote her precious boyfriend’s name who is very lovingly in bed so he decides to take matters into his own hands of making those fantasies real.

Word count: 3,352 words

Rating: 18+ Mature

Author’s note: hi hi, this is my first time posting a short fic in over years, p.s. I used to write on wattpad but it was when I was like 12-14. sooo this is definitely more improved, this is a little different beginning than other fics that i’ve read so hopefully all goes well & I hope you enjoy what i’ve wrote! I’ve been working on it for a while because I was doubting it a bit. Hopefully this looks neat enough too, I was browsing through many to make sure that I have written down for description before we get into it!

She was too occupied typing away in her computer to realize that she had a presence in her room as she was simply getting back to a quick reply to a role-play partner online, she figured she had time as Jungkook was in the shower. He watched her movement as she was on her laptop playing music on one tab and typing away on another, it was a very long conversation that was going on too- he didn’t want to intrude but he was curious, who was she texting this late at this hour? He was intrigued nevertheless hence why was it so lengthy and had so many characters, he slowly tipped toed over as he leaned over to read it as he had to reread the words. They caught him by surprise, the words weren’t innocent whatsoever as he held back a hastily gasp- not wanting to get caught red handed but he was unsure on what his girlfriend was doing.

Was she so innocent as he thought she was? They’ve had intimacy before but nothing in the way that she was describing in her text right now and he had no clue on how he was able to not move a muscle, he felt sweat drip whenever she stopped to think for a moment but went back to typing again. She was definitely hiding something else within because she was typing away like nothing as if she had other desires that he had no clue about, it made him boil within- he pondered; why didn’t she tell him? The towel around his waist was getting snug as he debated for a second on how to go about this, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries as this seemed personal as well- he wasn’t that guy.

She was incredibly indulged into her writing as she couldn’t help her mind slipping away for brief moment, she was writing about a different character but she was distracted that her fingers typed ‘Jungkook’ instead of the other character that she was writing for; she didn’t even realize it yet. The way she was describing the scene that she was imagining about was about her boyfriend instead, she wondered what was taking him so long? She so desperately missed him as she quickly faced reality when she clenched her thighs together with a soft sigh that she didn’t know would send Jungkook over edge, he was watching her expressions without her knowing as she then proofread it and noticed her mistake. She tsks at herself because she knew that only herself knew that she was fantasizing about her lover instead, she needed to escalate the issue as she soon sent out her reply. It was then she shut off her laptop and moving forward to the edge of the bed, turning her attention to face a intrigued Jungkook- his expression was written on his face and those eyes that was sinful said it all that he was indeed peeking at her work. He needed her and that small action she did; was all the confirmation he needed.

She found herself taken back that she didn’t notice him for however long he was standing there and he was half naked with a obvious print showing through the towel that showed intention prompting action that she could engage in. However she was a little embarrassed because she desired to know how much did he read? how much did he see? Only she could cough it off with nothing to say to which he cocked his head at her, yes it was a very promising proposal at the sight of him as there was mere water droplets down his chest to his stomach and the way his skin shined through from it all, his biceps looked amazing as well. He knew that she was caught red handed and her shyness had shown through, he lightly hummed as he shook his head with a light chuckle,”Oh Honey, if you wanted me so bad.. you could’ve taken action with me in the shower, I wouldn’t have said no.”he says as he moves forward, his hands making place onto the bed on the sides of her body. He made sure to lean his face down to her as he moved aside her hair from her shoulder as he kissed her neck delicately and then to her ear,”You surely didn’t have to write such naughty stuff about me too, I am all yours..unless you’re afraid to take action into more sexual pleasure within our lovemaking. If you wanted me to be more firm than the usual get go, take charge and show me what you want. Show me how you want to be desired and i’ll give it to you just right bun.”

She couldn’t deny his presence nor his statement, she loved him so much in that area of him always making sure she was fulfilled in every section there was in their relationship and there was no doubt that he was the man of her dreams. Her eyes switched back and forth between his body was so huge compared to her own and those doe brown eyes that she had grown to love, she needed him and she was willing to try new aspects of their sex life hence of her current desires lately. She wanted to be tested beyond her own limits as they usually were quite lovable when intimate, there was nothing wrong about it but she so desperately wanted to be fucked in ways she couldn’t imagine about and she also wanted to see another side of her lover.“Alright if you are so desperately interested in being more firm and because you are so loving, I really would like you to show me all those hidden desires as well.. I know for sure that you can fuck me in various ways under an hour so give it to me big boy. Fuck me good and make me beg for it, I want to see another side of you,”she moves her hands around his neck to pull them back onto the bed as her lips goes on a hunt to interlock with his.

Their lips moved together with such intensity and passion that it soon led with their tongues dancing with another, exploring each other as if it was the first time. Jungkook’s hips made movement on his own against her own hips, creating a friction that made a ripple effect of her moaning softly inbetween their heated kiss- she felt like electric. Her whole body felt like she was fire, she matched his movement by crashing her hips as well against his trying to chase down the feeling of pure pleasure. She moans out softly against his lip finally parting their tongues away, a trail of silva was shown from it as she shudders at the feeling. She softly whispered,”How much did you read? Did you read all of my words that was me fantasying about the possibilities of what you could do to me? Of how I want you to take control of me and break my state of mind due to how much you’ll be pleasuring me?”she looks into his eyes that were usually doe like, there was nothing innocent when she stared into his eyes, it was completely lust filled that made her caught her breath in her throat.

“You are… so naughty my love, I didn’t know that you had that in you. What’s been keeping it a secret for so long, huh? You really think that I couldn’t have handled you in the ways that you need to be treated and what you so desire?”He spoke out in a demanding tone though it wasn’t cold at all, it was said like a statement along with the way his voice carried throughout him- he was serious. “I’ve read.. every single thing that you wrote down about me..” his hands trace over her body over her clothes before diving his hands under her shirt to caress her breasts in need to feel her body, his fingers touching and pulling gently her nipples. He did it with such ease and slowly to tease her so that she will realize that he can give her what she needs in anytime of desperation for him and his touch. She was becoming full aware of his touch and his stare, he could indeed fulfill her needs that she desired that she was too stubborn to speak out about. She responded to his touch just the way he knew she would, caving into it and her body was heating up by each second of his hands exploring her body then moving lower.

Jungkook tugged at her bottoms in a teasing manner but did no attempt at taking them off, he would instead feel her arousal through her thin silk shorts as he leaned in to nip at her earlobe. “..I think that you shouldn’t get such special treatment right away.. You were being very naughty with what you were doing, typing away in secret hoping you wouldn’t get caught,” he tsks as her stomach twisted and turn at the sudden change within her boyfriend, it a-taken her back but she was turned on by it. She looked into his eyes pleading as she moves her hips against his hand for more relief on her end but it only caused his eyes to squint at her, tsking once more before pulling his hand back. “You are not being a good girl sweet girl, don’t know if I should even say those nicknames since you like to keep dirty secrets to yourself that even included me in,” he sighs softly as if hinting the words, ‘What am I going to do with you?’ Deep down in her heart she knew that he was showing her a completely different side of himself and it was plain obvious if she looked deep into those brown boba eyes that is her lover, he wouldn’t take things too far if she showed any sign if uncomfortable.

Standing up and away from the bed as he snaps his fingers at her to drop down to her knees in front of him, she slowly pulls herself out of the bed and obeys him. He shakes his head with a small tug on his lip but not quite enough as he starts to unravel his towel from his waist and onto the bed, she watches eagerly for the reveal. It never failed to impress her by his length but this time was a whole different setting and vibe, she could feel herself pool in her panties and she clenched her thighs together for warmth. He was so huge that adjusting always took her some time. Jungkook caught onto it right away as he was eyeing her reaction, taking her chin into his hand as he looks disappointed, ”None of that. I’ve said that you aren’t getting special treatment to take care of yourself, you’re just going to have to wait. Now suck me up to make up for it.” Not being able to deny him or his words, she takes hold of him in her hands and into her mouth slowly and gently. Once she grew more accustomed and confident was then she picked up the pace wanting to please him, he placed a hand behind her head but not pushing any further as he followed her motions.

She was eager to take him fully to reach his own pleasure to which she started to slow down so he could take charge of this opportunity and he caught on to it quick. He wasn’t too pleased at her pace so he started to take matters into his hands, literally. He stifled a small groan as he thrusts his hips forward, bobbing her head down at the same time, fuck her throat was amazing. She would always send him over the edge by being her and that was all he needed but now it was his time to do the same, they kept going at this for a bit before he drawls back for her to breathe. “Open,” she did as told then he takes ahold of his thick promising length before slapping it straight onto her tongue catching her by surprise, he also took note of her clenching her thighs together. A small dark smirk finds its way up his lips as he groans out approvingly, ”mm, you like that sweet naughty girl?” he just kept going with teasing her as he would gently move his hips sliding into her mouth then back to slapping his dick on her tongue. She could only hold herself up by her hands for balance as she whimpered when he entered her mouth once more before pulling away, leaving her mouth feel empty. She could get used to this, the way he was talking and how the glimpse in his eyes were nothing but filth, she needed him desperately but he just kept on going on with using her mouth for his own benefit.

She had no problem with it as she felt how urgent he became to which soon brought his release into her mouth, he twitched against her tongue as she moaned at the warmness salty yet sweet taste of him. It was overpowering as he didn’t stopped his moves, no, he was very needy as he held a small movement of his hips thrusting into her mouth as she could only breathe through her nose to grasp hold of this reality. Her eyes rolling back as his fingers tangled into her hair with a mess of moans from his lips, it was close to heaven. Eventually he let go after she swallowed most of it, the rest running down her chin brought the first smile during this interaction as he used a clean rag near by to clean her up. He had released again right afterwards due to his non-stopping movements but she wasn’t complaining, she wanted to make him feel good.

Caressing her hair as he held eye contact with her, he was contemplating if whether or not to continue this tango which would probably lead down to them aligning with one another but she couldn’t get off that easy due to her actions. No, he needed to show her that he was truly worth it and she didn’t need to fantasy about or writing and hoping that her sex fantasies happened in real life- he would fulfill those desires. He needed to show her that he was everything and more, that if one acts naughty there’ll be punishments. She had blissful eyes as she thanked him for cleaning her up, Jungkook helped her up to her feet as he turns them around and onto the bed. She found herself onto his lap spread out on his thighs as she softly gasped, his hand finding its way onto her cheeks caressing them generously. His hands were warm and gentle overall as he was careful and sweet in his touch before he tugged her shorts and panties off in one swift motion before his hands back onto her cheeks.

“Gonna need you to count with me bun.”

A small swallow was barely audible as she agreed in a nod, her excitement didn’t die down as she knew she was on full display- it enticed her further. She wanted this.

A hard smack reached onto her right cheek, a small sting yet it was addictive. “One.”

Snack!“Two.”

Another smack with a small muffled noise from her, Jungkook rubbing the spot lightly as his eyebrows arch up looking at her. “Three,” it took her a second to say it but she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Smack! “Four..”

This went on until it reached count of 10, he leaned over to kiss her very red ass cheek then his fingers pressed against her heat lightly teasing. Then he slipped two fingers into her with ease due to their fun action beforehand, such an easy thing to get worked up about- he barely touched her and she was this wet. He felt the mess dripping down his fingers as he lightly hummed in delight, she clenched in response as she softly moaned encouraging him. “Need you to be more vocal bun, tell me how good it is,” he says speeding up the pace tightening up as she did as was demanded, she really liked this side of him.

The commanding and dominant side, she needed more of him- she began to cry out his name as she started to reach her peak of her climax. “It is so good Jungkook! keep going please!” He did as asked before a wave of tears and pleasure overwhelmed her as he was quick and attentive, paying attention to the way her body reacted and inched under his weight as he spread her legs apart more access as he praised her. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers and i’ll clean you up,” he whispers into her ear, moving hair away from her face as his eyes were still locked onto her expressions.

Jungkook was more than pleased when she came into his fingers as he couldn’t help but groan, his sweet girl feeling him twitch and harden against her stomach. She inhaled and exhaled heavily when she came but it didn’t stop his actions as she bit her lip back in reaction, her body twitching as it was overwhelming but not in an unpleasant way. He wouldn’t push her past anything that made her uncomfortable, she held onto the side of his thigh and leg as he edged her onto another climax. She felt like she was walking on clouds when she reached her peak as she felt herself slipping even more if possible and becoming fully undone.

With a gentle placement of his hand onto her back trailing to under her stomach to help her adjust, he lifted her into his lap this time as he made sure that she was watching when he spread apart his fingers showing the slickness around his fingers. She squirmed slightly with a blush creeping onto her cheeks, she leaned back against his chest as she lightly caught ahold of her breath. He knew exactly how to make her squirm, having her in the palms of his hand. “Well you definitely showed me kook,” she whispers out, rubbing herself against his member while her hands place each side of his thighs propping herself up as he groans softly in reply but after a few moments he stops her movements. “What? I can’t play around some more?” which got a chuckle from him, he sighs softly as he rubs her lower stomach near her heat as he shakes his head. “It’s not that, I just want to take care of you for being so obedient.. let me run you a bath so you can feel more at ease and clean,” he kisses her cheek to her neck gently, ”If you’re still up for it afterwards then we can talk more about it.”

“Mm, I totally am up for you cleaning me up. Thank you kook,” she says softly as she turns her head to interlock their lips together. After a moment later, he helps her out of the bedroom into the bathroom as she does her own business by cleaning herself up somewhat as he gets her bath ready for her. She really appreciated it as she didn’t expect any less as Jungkook always took care of her, treating her like a princess. When the water was all set along with bubbles and the candles that were kept in the bathroom were lit, she tiptoed over to him, hugging him from behind as she left tiny kisses along his back to his neck then kissing his face. “You are so wonderful baby, thank you for doing this. I’ll make it up to you Tomorrow,” a cheesy smile plasters on his face as he helps her into the bath gently. “Oh yes you will bun, I am counting on it. I will always take care of you no matter what.”

all rights reserved to @skatazz no translations allowed. no reposting. not on here or any other platforms. all works belong to me.

None of the photos I used are mine, I only made the collage! I get my images off of pinterest & check if they say don’t reupload or not.

banner credits to @cafekitsune

Please let me know if someone isn’t credited properly or if I missed anything to my warnings/tags!

@somisarchive @iamsnart

[jincapableoflove]

Bloodstained Oath | Moodboard

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre: immortal knight! jungkook x vampire queen! reader, vampire au, fantasy, dark romance, SMUT, angst.

Summary: You are untouchable. Feared and worshipped by all. And he's the knight who has sworn himself to you. When you finally call him to your chambers, he offers everything, his blood, devotion, and his very being. After all, you are no ordinary woman. You are a creature of the night, and Jungkook has longed to be yours.

Smut warnings: bloodplay, biting, devotion/worship, slight pain play, edging, oral (m. receiving), submissive jungkook, marking/claiming, overstimulation, light breathplay.

full fic coming soon...

[TAGLIST OPEN]

taglist: @sftlrmin @mar-lo-pap @jnghs @sebastianlover @darklove2020 @satisfied18 @fancyearthquakecreation @solephile @senaqsstuff @kooko007 @sky-23s-world @11thenightwemet11 @youngdreamlandfun @eakth @miraclekay97 @jksusawife

[bts-scenarios-br]

React - Quando vocês brigam pela primeira vez

(gên. neutro)

Kim Namjoon

Assim que o Namjoon entrou pela porta do seu apartamento, você já sabia que tinha algo de errado. Ele estava quieto, tenso, grunhido pelos cantos até mesmo enquanto fazia algo simples como tirar o sapato na entrada na casa. Recentemente, as coisas estavam difíceis para ele na empresa. Muitos problemas, muitos dramas, muito trabalho. Enfim, muita coisa envolvendo ele, o grupo e a empresa, que afinal acabava sempre caindo no colo do líder.

“Amor?” Você disse, quando viu ele entrar na sala, deixando o livro que estava lendo de lado. “Está tudo bem?”

“Não.” Ele disse, com a voz um pouco baixa. “Eu preciso ficar um pouco sozinho, muita coisa aconteceu.”

Você ficou obviamente preocupade, e se levantou, indo atrás dele imediatamente.

“Nam… quer que eu faça alguma coisa pra você? Algo pra comer? Um chá?” Você perguntou, com preocupação evidente na voz.

“Não, obrigado.” Ele disse, de uma maneira meio frustrada, mas ainda assim mantendo a calma, sem querer descontar nada em você. “Só quero mesmo ficar um pouco sozinho, tá bem?”

“Tem certeza?” Você perguntou, ainda sem conseguir simplesmente abandonar ele. “Sabe que pode falar comigo, né? Pode se abrir que eu-”

“S/N, eu disse não.” Ele te cortou, começando a perder a paciência, fechando os olhos e massageando a cabeça dele de forma frustrada. “Não sabe ouvir um simples não?”

“Eu… sei, claro, mas eu só tô preocupada Nam…” Você disse, tentando não se mostrar chateade com as palavras dele. “Eu quero só te ajudar a ficar melhor.”

“Não tá ajudando.” Ele falou, de maneira até um pouco fria. Ele claramente não tinha saído da mentalidade do Kim Namjoon que estava lidando com burocracias e problemas dentro de uma grande empresa de entretenimento, e não estava conseguindo agir como o namorado carinhoso e cuidadoso que ele normalmente era com você. “Sai, S/N.”

Depois disso, você não teve coragem de fazer mais nada. Parte por entender que ele de fato queria ficar sozinho, e parte porque você tinha se magoado, por mais que não queria se deixar levar. Vocês nunca tinham brigado antes, porque nunca haviam chegado tão longe. Sempre que descrdavam de algo, ou faziam algo que incomodava um ao outro, conseguiam se comunicar de uma forma muito clara e produtiva para resolverem seus problemas. Mas não dessa vez.

Você só murmurou um pedido de desculpas baixinho, e saiu do quarto onde ele já estava. Ele ouviu apenas a porta da frente do apartamento fechando depois de uns instantes, e o arrependimento bateu instantaneamente nele. O Namjoon sentou na cama, cobrindo o rosto com as mãos e soltando um grunhido frustrado e auto depreciativo, se sentindo a pior pessoa do mundo por ter magoado a pessoa com quem ele mais se importa e que estava literalmente tentando cuidar dele.

Kim Seokjin

Ser uma pessoa insegura já é difícil por si só. Agora imagina ser uma pessoa insegura que namora um dos homens mais atraentes do mundo que também por acaso tem um senso de humor imparável? Bom, você nunca pensou nisso como um problema, na verdade, até porque o seu relacionamento com o Jin sempre foi isento de qualquer problema nos meses que vem acontecendo, mas infelizmente nada em excesso é bom, e isso foi a prova viva.

Neste dia em específico, você estava especialmente para baixo com a sua aparência física. O Jin tinha te chamado para ir jantar fora, nada muito chique, apenas para passarem um tempo de qualidade juntos, mas nada do que você colocava parecia te fazer sentir bem o suficiente em ser vista em público com ele. Por fim, apenas sentou na cama, cheia de frustração, e já questionando se mal deveria ir, enquanto o Jin estava sentado atrás de você, assistindo à tudo com uma leve dor no peito por ver a pessoa que ele mais admira não conseguir enxergar o seu valor.

Ele sentia a necessidade de ao menos tentar te animar um pouco, mesmo que fosse com algo bobo. Por isso ele pensou em apelar para o que sempre fazia: piadas. Qualquer coisa para tirar aquela carinha triste do seu rosto.

“Ei, Jagi… não se preocupa muito, você nunca vai ficar mais atraente que eu de qualquer forma, então não precisa se cobrar tanto.” Ele disse, com uma leve risada, mas instantaneamente percebeu que deveria pensar em uma piada melhor quando viu sua cara ficar ainda pior.

É, ele realmente devia ter pensado em uma piada melhor.

“Por que tá me namorando então?” Você respondeu, motivade pela insegurança e também pelo seu ego agora ainda mais ferido. “Devia ter arrumado alguém do seu nível.”

“Não, calma.” Ele falou, já desesperado, se levantando. “Não foi isso que eu quis dizer, sabe disso…”

“Sei mesmo, Seokjin?” Respondeu, e só por ter usado o nome inteiro dele, ele sabia que tinha errado mais do que esperava. “Porque algo me diz que essas suas piadinhas são só uma forma de me ofender sem ter culpa viu. Só não sei porque gasta seu tempo comigo se acha que merece algo tão melhor!” Você explodiu, e uma vozinha lá no fundo te dizia que estava exagerando, mas sua cabeça estava tão atordoada que mal conseguiu pensar com sanidade.

“Calmaí, S/N, você tá errada e sabe disso.” Ele disse, se estressando também pelas acusações. “Eu não estou perdendo meu tempo em você. Você é a pessoa mais linda, carinhosa, inteligente e gentil que eu conheço. Você é perfeite! Eu só faço essas piadas idiotas pra tentar parar a sua cabeça de se odiar tanto, e não porque eu acho que sou melhor do que você, e você já devia saber disso à essa altura do campeonato!”

Mas, por mais que ele tentasse colocar algum senso na sua cabeça, nada iria conseguir fazer a sua ansiedade e insegurança se aquietarem agora. No final, o Jin se encontrou para fora do quarto, com a porta trancada com você lá dentro, e a testa dele encostada na porta enquanto ele pensava em que ponto as coisas deram tão errado. Ele estava se odiando naquele momento, e se sentindo um fracasso de namorado. Ao invés de te fazer sentir amade, ele te fez sentir ainda pior do que antes, e isso estava matando ele por dentro, especialmente porque não sabia como concertar isso agora.

Min Yoongi

As últimas semanas vêm sendo um pouco difíceis para você e o Yoongi passarem um tempo juntos. Ele tem trabalhado horrores na produção do próximo álbum do grupo, além de ensaios, reuniões, gravações, e tudo mais o que tinha direito. Por mais que isso o chateasse, o tempo que ele estava dedicando a você era… muito pouco. Quase inexistente, na verdade.

E é por isso que essa noite você tinha se dedicado ao máximo para ficar perfeite para ele. Colocou a roupa que sabe que ele mais gosta, arrumou o cabelo nos mínimos detalhes, e dedicou muito mais tempo do que o normal para fazer uma maquiagem que te deixasse digne de uma foto no Instagram. E tudo isso porque ele tinha te dito que tinha conseguido uma noite livre do estúdio, e ia te levar para jantar em um restaurante novo que estava empolgade para conhecer.

Mas, como já era de se esperar, o universo não estava ao seu favor.

Faltavam mais ou menos vinte minutos para às oito, horário que ele havia combinado de te buscar, quando você ficou pronte. Sentou a ficou mexendo no celular por um tempo, para se distrair até dar a hora. Estava tão imserse no TikTok, que quando percebeu já eram quase nove, e por um segundo se desesperou pensando que havia perdido a hora, mas então se tocou que, na verdade, o Yoongi não tinha nem mesmo dado sinal de vida. Por isso, tentou mandar uma mensagem para ele, para questionar sobre o atraso.

“Yoon? Está tudo bem?”

“Você não esqueceu do nosso encontro… né?”

Você enviou as mensagens, e ficou olhando para a tela de forma ansiosa para esperar a resposta, mas ela não veio. Minutos se tornaram horas, e quando deu por si, estava prestes a cair no sono ali mesmo no sofá, mas foi impedide por um barulho da porta abrindo, quando já eram quase duas da manhã.

“S/N?” A voz rouca do Yoongi the tirou do sono por todo. “Olha, desculpa por não aparecer mais cedo, eu me enrolei com a produção de uma música e-”

“Nem tenta, Yoongi.” Você o cortou. “Você podia ter me mandado uma mísera mensagem, uma ligação, ia levar o que? Trinta segundos?” Você levantou, já estressade.

O Yoon não queria admitir, mas ele estava se sentindo horrível. Ele também queria muito passar a noite com você, e estava péssimo por ter se deixado perder no trabalho. Teve um momento enquanto ele dirigia de volta pra casa que ele até sentiu os olhos dele marejarem pelo peso de tudo em cima dele. Não tinha nada que o machucava mais do que saber que estava falhando como um namorado, então aguentar essas últimas semanas estava difícil não apenas pelo trabalho, mas também por isso.

Mas alto dentro dele o dizia que admitir que tinha pisado na bola iria deixar tudo pior, por isso que ao invés de apenas de desculpar e te consolar, ele decidiu levantar suas paredes e agir na defensiva.

“Eu tava ocupado de verdade, okay? É difícil de tirar meu foco do trabalho quando tô imerso nele, você sabe disso.” Ele disse, soando irritado.

“Você tá querendo dizer o que com isso?” Você perguntou, franzindo o cenho. “Que eu não sou tão levade à serio com o seu trabalho, ou o que?”

“Não começa a colocar palavra na minha boca…” Ele falou, com um tom um pouco mais baixo. “Não foi isso que eu quis dizer, e você sabe disso.”

“Mas parece!” Disse, se irritando.

“Olha sinceramente eu tenho coisa mais importante pra fazer do que ficar alimentando briga besta.” Ele falou, já começando a ir embora novamente.

“Onde você tá indo?” Você perguntou, meio em choque e meio indignada.

“Fazer algo mais produtivo.” Ele falou, e sem mais nenhuma explicação, foi embora, te deixando pra trás, tão impactade que mal conseguiu ter mais qualquer reação.

Jung Hoseok

O Hoseok já sentiu algo estranho antes mesmo de abrir a máquina de lavar roupas. Porque é que estava uma sombra tão visivelmente cor de rosa sendo que você tinha dito que ia colocar roupas brancas pra lavar? Ele já esperava que vocês dois morando juntos traria alguns tropeços de vez em quando, mas ele sinceramente não esperava que seria depois de menos d euma semana de você se mudando para a casa dele.

E ele estava certo. Assim que abriu a máquina, viu que as roupas estavam todas rosas. Ele já sentiu o nervosismo subir nele enquanto tirava as roupas de lá, e logo achou a responsável: uma calcinha. Não qualquer calcinha, claro. Era uma que inclusive já havia levado ele à loucura algumas vezes antes, mas dessa vez foi por um motivo diferente.

“S/N você não conferiu as roupas antes de colocar na máquina?” Ele perguntou, se aproximando de você que estava fazendo algo no seu computador, enquanto ele tentava não se estressar. Era só conversar com você e você ia entender, certo?

“Conferi.” Você respondeu, mal se dando ao trabalho de olhar para ele.

“Claramente não conferiu o suficiente.” Ele disse, um pouco mais ácido. “Você deixou sua calcinha lá, manchou praticamente tudo.”

“Ah, foi mal.” Respondeu, ainda sem presta muita atenção. “Depois eu limpo.”

“Não tem como limpar isso, S/N.” Ele falou.

“Ué, quer que eu faça o quê então?” Você falou, finalmente se virando para ele. “Quer que eu compre tudo novo?”

“Não, S/N, eu não quero que você compre tudo novo. Só quero que preste mais atenção nessas coisas, é pedir muito?” Ele disse, já perdendo a calma.

“Eu presto atenção! Mas as vezes isso acontece, ué.” Disse, franzindo o cenho.

“Às vezes acontece?” Ele repetiu suas palavras, indignado. “Ah por favor… você não presta atenção nenhuma nas coisas de casa, mal faz qualquer coisa, e a única coisa que vez conseguiu fazer errado.” Ele se estressou.

“Eu não faço nada aqui?” Você disse, claramente ofendide. “Tá de brincadeira né, Hoseok? Claro que eu faço! Mas você vive aí se achando e nem presta atenção nisso!”

“Eu me achando?” Ele perdeu a cabeça. “Ué, não sei, talvez seja só porque eu de fato faço tudo aqui então tenho o direito de me achar um pouquinho!” Ele insistiu, fazendo você revirar os olhos. “Aí, ó! Tá vendo? Você não leva nada a sério, e quer reclamar que eu me acho…”

Depois disso, você mal teve chance de falar mais qualquer coisa, antes dele ir pro quarto de vocês e se trancar lá. Você soltou um suspiro, frustrade, mal conseguindo se concentrar no computador de novo, e se perguntando o que poderia fazer pra resolver isso.

Park Jimin

O Jimin amava o seu trabalho, amava mesmo. Mas as vezes, ele acabava com a sua sanidade, principalmente quando tinha algum projeto solo, como é o caso atual.

Preparar um álbum em grupo já é difícil, e isso porque tem mais seis grandes artistas para dividir a responsabilidade com, mas solos? Toda a cobrança e expectativa ficava em cima dele, e ele era quem mais se cobrava, de longe.

Tudo isso claramente tinha um efeito em seu relacionamento. O Jimin não tinha tempo pra você, e quando tinha estava tão cansado e estressado que mal faziam qualquer coisa. Mas não era o suficiente ainda pra fazer você desistir de tentar e fazer as coisas mais fáceis para ele.

“Hey…” Você falou da porta do quarto enquanto via ele sair do banho. “Quer assistir um filme ou algo assim? Faz tempo que a gente não faz nada juntos…”

“Hoje não, Jagi… eu tô muito cansado.” Ele disse com um suspiro enquanto secava o cabelo dele com a toalha mesmo.

“Por favor, amor…” Você insistiu, manhosa. “É só um filminho, não é nada demais, só ficar deitadinho alí comigo e pronto…”

“Não, Jagi… já falei.” Ele soltou um suspiro, frustrado. “Você não faz ideia do quão cansado meu trabalho me faz, né? Você acha que é só dançar cantar e ser bonito por aí? Que eu não fico física e emocionalmente drenado?”

“Não foi isso que eu disse…” Você tentou intervir quando viu o quão estressado ele estava ficando.

“Mas parece que é o que pensa!” Ele falou, claramente perdendo a paciência. “Você não leva meu trabalho a sério não é? Mas devia começar, principalmente porque é o que te dá todos os luxos que quer ter.” Você se sentiu genuinamente ofendide com essas palavras dele.

“Olha, primeiro que eu levo o seu trabalho muito a sério, já devia saber disso a essa altura do campeonato!” Disse, nervose agora também. “Segundo que eu não estou com você por conta do seu dinheiro ou dos luxos ou seja lá que merda que tá pensando, e o fato que ainda acha isso de mim é muito baixo, Jimin.” Você viu como ele parece ter se arrependido pelo o que disse, mas não te disse nada, então você continuou. “Eu só queria te ajudar a relaxar um pouco, exatamente porque sei o quanto o trabalho está te destruindo, mas se não quer okay, continua se matando, vê se eu ligo!”

“É, acho que eu vou mesmo.” Foi tudo o que ele falou, antes de simplesmente se vestir e ir embora, te deixando sozinhe.

Vocês nunca tinham brigado assim antes, e era óbvio que ambos estavam arrependidos de tudo o que disseram, mas o orgulho de casa um não os deixava se desculpar ou fazer algo para concertar a bagunça que fizeram… pelo menos não por enquanto.

Kim Taehyung

Quando Taehyung te pediu para postar algumas fotos que tiraram juntos na primeira viagem que fizeram sozinhos, você já sentia que a reação geral talvez não fosse das melhores, mas mesmo assim concordou, achando que provavelmente não seria nada muito diferente do hate que recebia normalmente. Mas ah se arrependimento matasse…

As pessoas estavam sem piedade alguma nos comentários do post. Falavam sobre cada detalhe da sua aparência, te chamavam de interesseire, diziam que o Tae merecia alguem muito melhor, e tudo de mais baixo e ofensivo que podia pensar. Chegou em um ponto que você estava tão mal com o post, que apenas saber que ele ainda estava lá já te colocava para baixo, mesmo que não estivesse mais conferindo os comentários.

“Tae… você pode apagar aquele post que fez comigo?” Você finalmente cedeu a pressão.

“Apagar? Por que?” Ele perguntou, claramente preocupado, já te puxando para um abraço.

“Os comentários tão demais…” Você murmurou, o abraçando de volta. “É melhor se você só apagar…”

“Ah, Jagi…” Ele falou, se afastando apenas o suficiente para te olhar. “Mas aquelas fotos significam tanto pra mim…”

“Eu sei que elas significam muito pra você…” Você soltou um suspiro. “Pra mim também, mas a gente pode sei lá, fazer um álbum, enquadrar… não precisa postar.”

“Mas eu quero que as pessoas vejam.” Ele franziu o cenho. “Tem muita gente que está demonstrando felicidade pela gente.”

“Eu sei, Tae, mas ainda assim…” Disse, saindo do abraço dele, mas ele logo te puxou para perto dele de novo.

“Jagi… não tem porque se preocupar tanto com isso, você sabe que eles estão falando isso só pra te afetar…” Ele falou, segurando seu rosto com carinho. “Você é a pessoa mais perfeita do mundo, é por quem eu me apaixonei, e nada que ninguém diz vai mudar isso…”

“Eu sei, Tae…” Você suspirou, de forma frustrada. “Mas mesmo assim… não custa nada você só apagar o post, não é? Se está me deixando pra baixo, que mal faz?” Você sabia que estava sendo um pouco dura demais com o seu tom de voz, principalmente considerando que ele estava sendo nada além de carinhoso com você. Mas ainda assim… a insegurança que tava te controlando não estava deixando que tivesse muito senso.

“Você quer mesmo isso?” Ele perguntou, de uma forma um pouco mais fria. “Vai mesmo apagar uma coisa que representa nosso amor só por causa do que pessoas que não sabem nada sobre nós estão dizendo?” Ele franziu o cenho, e se afastou, fazendo você sentir falta do toque dele instantaneamente.

“Tae, não é isso…” Disse, já sentindo o arrependimento de não ter simplesmente conversado com mais calma te tomar.

“Não. Esquece. Eu vou apagar o post.” Ele falou, já se afastando. “Desculpa por tentar mostrar pro mundo quem eu amo, não vai se repetir.” Ele falou, claramente frustrado.

Vocês dois não conversaram mais pelo resto do dia. Você chateade por ele ter se ofendido tanto por algo que não devia ser tão sério assim, mas também arrependide por não ter conversado, e ele chateado por sentir que você não estava dando ouvidos ao que ele estava te dizendo e não levava o amor dele a sério, mas também arrependido por ter perdido a cabeça em um momento em que você estava visivelmente frágil. Afinal, o misto de nervosismo e vergonha impediu os dois de se enfrentarem de novo com sinceridade por um tempo pelo menos.

Jeon Jungkook

Sabe aqueles dias que está absolutamente tudo dando errado e você coloca toda a sua felicidade em uma coisa tão pequena, mas que se essa coisinha acaba dando errado também e você simplesmente explode? Pois é. Foi isso que deu origem à sua primeira briga com o Jungkook. E a coisa pequenina que causou tanto caos? Um mísero pedaço de bolo.

Em sua defesa, não era qualquer bolo, okay? Era um pedaço de bolo de uma confeitaria muito difícil de conseguir, de um sabor que faziam apenas pouquíssimos por semana, e que você estava guardando para finalmente poder comer na sexta feira a noite, e calhou perfeitamente no dia em que tudo tinha dado errado. Tinha sido humilhade no trabalho, levado bronca do seu chefe, xingade no trânsito, e ainda levado desaforo de um vizinho que veio brigar com você por algo que não fez porque te confundiu com outra pessoa.

Por isso, assim que chegou no apartamento, foi até a geladeira, abrindo e procurando pelo seu tão querido bolo. Mas… ele não estava lá. Você procurou, procurou e procurou, mas nada. Até que decidiu olhar na pia, e lá esta um pratinho sujo com um glacê muito bem conhecido por você.

“Jungkook você comeu o bolo que eu tinha guardado na geladeira?” Perguntou para ele, que mal tirou os olhos da televisão para te responder.

“Ah… comi, foi mal.” Ele falou, sem se importar muito. “Amanhã compro outro pra você.”

Essas simples palavras foram capazes de te quebrar. Quando o Jungkook finalmente olhou para você, estranhando seu silêncio, ele se assustou imediatamente ao ver seus olhos marejados. O pânico tomou conta dele, que se levantou e tentou se aproximar de você, completamente perdido do que fazer.

“Jagi… você tá chorando? Por causa de um bolo?” Ah se ele tivesse pensado um pouquinho mais antes de falar ao invés de agir no desespero dele.

Depois disso foi por água a baixo. Tiveram gritos seus, mais choro, mais grito, enfim, você colocou pra fora tudo o que tava guardando dentro de você, o que não seria errado, se você não tivesse descontado tudo no pobre do Jungkook, que só ouviu tudo em silêncio, a beira das lágrimas também por te ver tão mal, mas sem saber o que ao menos fazer naquela situação.

Depois de tudo, você simplesmente foi embora, sem dizer pra onde ia. O Jungkook estava obviamente se matando de preocupação, mas tudo o que ele pode fazer foi ficar vidrado no aplicativo que vocês dividiam onde podiam ver a localização um do outro, para garantir que não tinha ido para nenhum lugar perigoso. Quando viu que seu carros estacionou na casa da sua melhor amiga, ele se permitiu relaxar um pouquinho, mas ainda ficou com o celular grudado na mão dele, preparado para seja lá o que você pudesse precisar de repente.

Oioio!i Tudo bem??

Gente faz tanto mas tanto tempo que eu não escrevo coisa com os meninos scrr, então por favor me desculpem se eu tiver meio enferrujada, e se tiver ruim e afins maaaas é melhor que nada, né??

Enfim, espero que tenham pelo menos matado a saudade um pouquinho, e me desculpem por qualquer erro!

Fiquem bem!!

[jung-koook]

[480/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡ (cr. ouranxingg)

[my-kookie-jar]

His happiness brings joy

heartwarming

cr. namuspromised

[jkvjimin]

they're both sillies 😔💜 cr. namuspromised

[btsjk-biased]

Majestic

cr. ouranxingg

[bt-tarot]

Will Jk’s FS be famous before they get together? Where is she from? Like, the vibes of the country! (Yeah, I know energy can change, I’m just curious.) Tysm 🩷

Hi!💕 You asked with she/her pronouns and I also got a lot of feminine energy so I'll stick with the pronouns.

Knight of Wands Rev., Queen of Wands, The Empress

This person gives me major queen vibes, I got a strong feminine energy. From the cards, she has a fiery energy too. About the country, I'm leaning towards a place or country that is warm, known for it's beauty, a place that can give lot, that has relations with other countries, maybe exporting goods. I'm getting major beach, sunny, hot place vibes. I feel physically warm rn and I'm under the a/c.

I think this person isn't famous yet, but wants to be. I think this person is facing some kind of delay. Maybe she's insecure about a project, maybe the project she's been working on didn't turn out as expected or she's just trying to do something and just face obstacle after obstacle. I see a lot of repressed energy, at least in a present/not far past moment. I think this is a point of forced reflection that will give her so much to learn about her own worth, how to make things. I'm getting that maybe she wants to make a project or try to make something and she lacks some abilities, then this period of time will teach her what she needs to know before getting there and I think after that she will gain recognition.

I see a very progressive path, it's not overnight success and I think she will be praised for her efforts and will fight to earn her place. Everything that she's going through rn will just add to the fire and make her more passionate and determined. I'm not sure if she will be famous when they meet, but it's clear to me that when they come together she will already be recognized in some way. Meeting him will just put her even more in the public eye, but it won't be like she's not accustomed to it.♠︎

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Thank you for asking!🦇♡