#bts jikook

[kookmin1913]

They were just together at the concert in Seoul.

Then chose to spend time together afterward with JK cooking for Jimin.

Jimin bouncing around his house like a happy bunny!

And to top it all off, they were together the next day for “White Day” in Korea.

Makes me smile every time I think about it. 🥰

Video credit @Miiildi

[7candee]

JIKOOK BEING JIKOOK 🧡

↳ Lights MV Making

[jayemkay]

Jikook NSFW fic

TAGS: dacryphilia, hyung kink, top!jk bttm!jm, passing out during sex, rough!

i also posted this on twt and ao3 hehe

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"Jungkook-ah!" Jimin cried as Jungkook's throbbing cock plunged deeper into his tight hole.

Jungkook didn't even seem to care about the fact that his boyfriend was overwhelmed and overstimulated after 3 orgasms were ripped from his twitching, pink cock. All that Jungkook cared about at this point was pleasing himself, and feeling that tight little body shake beneath him with each thrust.

Jungkook hooked his hands under Jimin's knees and pulled them up to rest on his shoulders, briefly pausing his hips to move Jimin around like a doll, a puppet. Jimin only whined, letting himself be manhandled. He didn't have the strength to stop him even if he wanted to.

But Jungkook's thrusts quickly started once again, forcing whimpers out of Jimin's raw throat. When they first started, Jungkook's hips had moved quickly and rough, making Jimin scream and barely giving him a chance to breathe. Now, nearly half an hour later, Jungkook's thrusts were slower. Not slow, mind you, he was still fucking him like a jackhammer, but was forceful about his thrusts, reaching the deepest parts of Jimin, and he would leave just enough time for Jimin to gasp loudly before his dick was in his stomach again.

Jimin thought he was going mad. The pleasure of his fourth orgasm of the night quickly approaching made his head spin, the feeling so good it was way beyond painful, and he made this known. "Jungk-kook-ah... oh!"

Jungkook raised his eyes to meet Jimin's crying ones and shoved himself balls deep and paused to listen to his boyfriend.

Jimin cried even harder at how deep Jungkook was in this position, hitting every spot that made him see stars. "Ju-Jungkook-ah- I can't, I c-can't cum again... p-please I caaaaan't," Jimin was squirming around with the cock deep inside him. He was using his hands to claw at Jungkook's shoulders, but when Jungkook tried to pull away, Jimin only pulled him closer. "Jung-gkook pleaaase, ngh! I c-can't it-it's too much, I can't I can't I ca-aaan't..."

Jungkook cursed and leaned as far back as he could, taking a moment to observe his boyfriend's fucked out body. One thing that Jungkook adored about having sex with Jimin was watching how worked up he would get. On stage or camera, Jimin was a princess. Mostly graceful, near-always kind, he never got too excited or too upset about anything. He would, for the most part, keep his composure, and he was exceptional at it.

Outside of the public eye, Jimin was a tease. He would purposefully wear tiny shorts and strut around the dorms, bending over to show his fat ass, and would touch on Jungkook like he just couldn't help himself. He would make bedroom eyes at Jungkook so openly, crawl into his lap and kiss his neck with the other members in the same room. Even when Jimin wasn't horny, which wasn't often, he would still tease Jungkook relentlessly. He would act like such a slut in front of everyone, the other members probably thought that Jimin would ride Jungkook until Jungkook begged for mercy.

But no, in bed, Jimin could barely take dick. He would cry and scream, beg for more, and promptly beg for less. He would tear up Jungkook's back with his nails. He was so sensitive and cute, cumming when sucking Jungkook's cock, cumming with Jungkook's tongue in his little hole, cumming when Jungkook would first push himself into Jimin's ass. His whimpers and whines were so cute and pathetic, his cock so tiny. His legs would tremble and he would gasp and blush like he was a virgin. Jungkook loved it, he couldn't get enough of it.

Now, Jimin was begging Jungkook to have mercy on him, to not make him cum another time. But Jungkook always got his way. "One more time, baby," He leaned down and whispered in his lovers ear. "Give me one more." Jimin didn't say anything, just sobbed out a whimper and squirmed a little more. Jungkook just let a sadistic smile spread on his face and he pulled his hips back only to snap them forward as hard as he could, relishing in the way that Jimin screamed, throat raw and body flushed. Jimin arched up into Jungkook's strong chest and his tiny hands scrambled around for purchase on his lover's shoulders. Jungkook took a moment to pause and observe again, watch his flushed and sweaty chest heave with his breath, watch the drool dribble down Jimin's chin. He looked at Jimin's eyes rolled back in his head, looked at his bruised hips, his shaking thighs. Jungkook briefly ran his fingers over the big NEVERMIND tattoo on Jimin's rib cage before leaning in to brush his lips against it. Jimin made him weak, and he wanted him to know how much he worshipped him. Jimin made a helpless, drawn out "oooh" sound and let his head flop uselessly to the side. Jungkook could see Jimin's stomach muscles clenching and releasing with anticipation of his next thrust, and he let a wicked smile pull his lips. He quickly yanked his hips back, relishing in the older's gasp, and shoved himself in as far as his hips would allow. Jungkook groaned at the clenching tightness of his asshole and plowed in a couple more times before leaning down to Jimin's bright red ear. "What do you call me, baby?"

Jimin whined before letting out a breathy "h-hyung..." Jungkook smiled. He absolutely loved when his boyfriend called him hyung, for a multitude of reasons. It made him feel even bigger than Jimin, made him feel stronger than him. He was so used to calling others "hyung" and hearing himself being called "oppa" that the word in reference to himself made his dick twitch. Besides that, Jimin's face would always burn in embarrassment when he called his dongsaeng the honorific, all the reason more to love it.

"Sorry, what was that baby boy? You have to speak up."

"H-Hyung!" Jimin could hardly see past the tears welling in his eyes, but he didn't have to, because immediately after Jimin spoke the thrusting began again. The older shouted and arched his back, began to try to squirm away from the relentless thrusts, but his wrists were held firmly in place. He cried, forced to lie there and take it like a good boy. "Hyung! Jungk-kook Hyung! Ah ah ah!" He felt the coil in his stomach tighten at Jungkook's loud groan that filled the space between them. "Hyung hyung hyung!" Before Jimin knew it, he was losing consciousness, the knot in his stomach bursting, cock twitching with a dry orgasm. Jimin let out a few more helpless sobs before his head lulled to the side and his eyes closed.

It took Jungkook about 10 seconds to realize that his boyfriend had passed out. He laughed and pulled out, straddling Jimin's chest and stroking his fat cock right over the older's sleeping face. Jungkook rubbed his thumb over his slippery cockhead, moaning as he remembered Jimin calling him Hyung. His wrist moved quicker and quicker, until he was shouting and cum was painting Jimin's pretty, pillowy lips, his wet, swollen eyelids, his chubby red cheeks. Jungkook got off of Jimin, rolled out of bed to go get a wet towel to clean them up. When he came back, his cock gave a weak twitch at the sleeping, fucked out, cum-covered Jimin, but he ignored it and got to work. As he wiped his face and chest clean, he thought about what ARMY would say if they knew how much of a slut their precious Jimin was.

[jinbff]

jikook icons ★ our busan boys .. ＾＾

— please like or reblog if saved!

[piefuir]

⋆˚꩜｡ּ Pequena estrela extraordinária ˎˊ˗

⋆˚꩜｡ּ Capa para doação do @pjhikari

⋆˚꩜｡ּ Jeon Jungkook x Park Jimin (Jikook) - BTS ˎˊ˗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

✎ᝰ. NOTAS: Bom, essa foi minha primeira tentativa de capa de kpop, nunca tinha tentado antes, e sinceramente, nem sei direito que estilo é. Amo os jikook, já que não escrevo nada deles a um bom tempo não fazia mal fazer uma capa, agora eu vou fazer mais de kpop, só tava no 2D. Mas até que gostei do resultado, apesar do trabalho pra achar uma fonte que preste. ★ ˎˊ˗

[nixydery]

Are You Sure?! Episode 6 | Jikook in Sapporo

[shannygoatgruff]

For Whom It Was Intended

Genre: Dark Romance

Pairing: Taehyung (V)/Jungkook; Jungkook/Jimin

Warning: Language, sex, obsession, unknown sexual encounter

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions. See what happens when the sweetest thought turns into three lives upside down.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the concept of the story. I mean no form of disrespect, only the highest form of flattery. This work is a complete work of fiction.

Please do not copy or post my work on any other platform without my permission.

Chapter 1 - Miscommunication

JK’s POV

Tonight – 19:30 Embassy Suites – Times Square, Room 624

The door will be unlocked. The only thing I’ll be wearing is a blindfold.

Kookie

P.S. Anything you want, baby.

The note should’ve been enough.

It was clear. Direct. Impossible to misunderstand.

So why does the silence feel so loud?

Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe it slipped too far into his pocket, buried under everything else the way he buries all the things he doesn’t want to deal with.

It was supposed to be a surprise—something small, something good. A way to pull him out of whatever has been weighing on him all day.

He’d been off. Not in a way anyone else would notice, but enough that it doesn’t sit right under my skin.

No—he saw it. He had to.

“Fine,” he sighed.

It wasn’t.

Tae’s body always gave him away—the tension in his shoulders, the way he holds himself just a little too tight.

Stepping in close felt automatic, arms wrapped around his waist from behind before I even thought about it. My chin rested against his shoulder; hands pressed lightly into his sides. “Beach.”

A pause. Then the smallest shift—his body eased, just enough. “Cabin,” he murmured, leaning back into me.

Better.

My thumb traced slow circles against his stomach, just enough to make him squirm. A quiet laugh caught low in his throat. He had always been weak there. Always given in.

“Times Square hotel room?” The question slipped out as the note disappeared into his pocket. A risk—but one I didn’t hesitate to take.

“Mmm…” His head tilted slightly, voice dipping low. “Times Square hotel room.”

For a second, everything felt easy again.

But, now there’s nothing but waiting.

The blindfold presses softly against my eyes. Pointless to close them, but they fall shut anyway. It sharpens everything—the quiet hum of the room, the faint rustle of fabric when I shift against the sheets, the slow, steady rhythm of my own breathing.

Time stretches too long.

The room changes before anything else. A quiet click. Stillness settles in behind it.

He’s here.

Not loud. Not heavy. Just… present.

He’s different tonight. It’s subtle, but I can tell that he’s not taking up as much space as he normally does.

My breath catches before I can place why.

The session must’ve gone worse than I thought. It didn’t matter.

We’ll make it better.

“There are only two rules tonight,” I smile. “Rule one—no talking.” Turning my head toward the sound of his presence, raking the lip ring between my teeth. I stretch my hand out to him, “Rule two—the blindfold only comes off when you take it off me.”

I wait for a moment anticipating his first gentle kiss.

He always –

It doesn’t come. A second passes. Then another.

This is different. There’s never been a time when Tae hasn’t initiated anything without his lips pressing against mine.

The thought flickers and disappears just as quickly.

The first touch comes instead.

Light.

Careful.

Almost hesitant.

That’s not— The thought slips before it can settle.

His scent comes next—faint, familiar. It’s enough to settle whatever doubt tries to form.

It’s him. It’s my Gomi.

His hands find my wrists, guiding them above my head with a slow, deliberate control that makes something in my chest tighten. There’s no rush in the way he moves, no urgency—just a quiet focus that feels almost unfamiliar.

Like he’s taking his time.

The blindfold stays in place. Longer than I would have expected.

Tae normally doesn’t— or maybe he just wants, no needs this right now

The urge to touch him builds quickly.

Instinctive.

Immediate.

The need to pull him closer, to anchor into something solid. S00omething known. But my wrists stay where he left them. Above my head. Held there by nothing but my damn rules—and my willingness to follow them.

His mouth moves lower, tracing a slow path down my neck, across my chest, lingering in places he already knows too well. Except tonight, it feels like he slow. Measured. Like he’s learning me, anew.

My body reacts deliciously. It always does.

Cold touches my skin without warning.

Soft. Spreading slowly. Not ice - something smoother.

Whipped cream.

A quiet breath slips out before I can stop it, gooseflesh prickles my skin as my thoughts try to catch up.

My legs part easily under his hands, anticipation tightening low in my stomach as he follows with his mouth—warm, deliberate, devastating. All thought disappears after that. There’s no room for it anymore. There is only room for sensation.

Only him.

Time fractures, breaking into moments that don’t connect.

His hands.

His mouth.

The heat builds under my skin. The slow, deliberate pressure that makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

Control slips easily.

Too easily.

His finger follows—one, then another—slow and measured, like his hesitation in my movements are to gauge my reactions. Every shift in my body.

Our normal bed play offers a different paradigm. However, at this moment there is no ask too great to grant him.

I want this.

I want him.

I’m ready.

My initial protest is brief. Quickly, my body responds, arching into him, giving in with no further resistance.

A hand moves on instinct, reaching for him, needing something to hold onto. But, it never lands.

Caught.

He guides it back. Firm and final. A soft sound follows, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Disapproval, with a hint of playfulness. But not.

Everything builds – body, breath, thought – gone. I trust him enough to quiet whatever lingering apprehensions that still remain.

The rhythm that follows is slow and controlled.

This is unfamiliar…but tonight I am willing to follow wherever he leads. Every movement feels intentional, measured, never rushed. There’s something grounding in it, something that settles deep beneath everything else.

Is this what it feels like when he gives himself to me? I didn’t think it was possible to feel closer to Tae when we make love. My body has never felt such sensations befo0re.

A sound tears free before I can stop it—loud, unfiltered, real. It echoes throughout the space of the room. Nothing exists outside of this moment.

His teeth graze my shoulder, something comforting settling into place at the back of mind, anchoring me there.

Finally.

I love when he sucks and bites my flesh when it’s this tender.

The tension builds quickly after that, too fast to control, pulling tight until there’s nothing left to hold onto.

And then it breaks.

The release hits hard, sharp and overwhelming, dragging everything with it. His coming close behind.

Sleep comes quickly. Pulling me under before I can think too much about it.

A touch wakes me. Soft and familiar. Unmistakably his.

The blindfold lifts, light spilling in as his face comes into view above mine.

Warm.

Real.

Right.

My smile comes easily, “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

His mouth finds mine. And everything settles back into place.

Jimin’s POV

Did he write this to me?

It’s the only question racing in my head. So clear and immediate, it’s like an alarm going off.

My name isn’t on it.

But it has to be for me. It in my jacket. Tae had it this morning when he went to get coffee. He had it most of the day. So Kookie left it for him.

But he knows he put it in my pocket.

Kookie wouldn’t do that to Tae. He loves him.

Except— he wrote, ‘Anything you want, baby.’ Did he mean…

No. It’s for Tae. It has to be…unless it isn’t.

Unless he knows. Unless all those jokes weren’t just jokes. Did he see through my endless flirting to get a rise out of Tae for what it was? A thinly vailed attempt to reveal the truth about how I feel about him?

The thought settles in too easily. Like it’s been waiting for the right moment to present itself. For me to finally bear my soul.

Then the memory of that night comes back before I can stop it. I was doing a bed check. The wrong moment. Or maybe it was the only moment that ever mattered.

Kookie leaned back in the chair, completely undone in a way I had never seen before—relaxed, open, beautiful. The lazy smile dancing on his lips. The way his heavy-lidded eyes watched Tae’s.

Tae between his legs. Like he belonged there. Like that space and everything that occupied it was his. The gentle pleading he made with each blink as he met Jungkook’s stare.

It was beautiful. It was sickening.

It should’ve ended there. It was an accident. Something to forget. But I didn’t. Because once I’d seen… I couldn’t unsee how beautiful he was.

Kookie’s phone stays silent. There’s no answer. No reply. Nothing.

Maybe there’s still time to fix this. If I call him again...tell him the truth.

There is no need for me to hand the note back to him. But I just want to see. I can always walk away before anything changes.

Before anything breaks.

The hotel door isn’t fully closed. It opens with barely any pressure. There is soft music and low light. Rose petals are scattered across the floor like something out of a dream I was never meant to step into.

And there he is.

Waiting.

Blindfolded.

“I—” The word barely forms in my throat.

“Rule one—no talking,” It lands like a command. Final.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. I should take one step back ...just one word and it ends. Make one choice—

But his hand reaches out without hesitation or doubt. Like he already knows who’s standing in front of him. Like he’s waiting.

For me.

“Rule two – the blindfold only comes off when you remove it,” his whisper intoxicates me and I lose all my senses.

That’s when something shifts. It’s not loud nor sudden. It’s just gone. Every reason I had to leave, or stop…every line I swore I wouldn’t cross completely leaves at that moment.

My belt hits the floor before I can think it through. The rest follows too easily. Too quickly. Like the decision was made long before I got here.

It’s too late now.  There’s no going back.

His skin is warm. Softer than I expected. Closer than it should ever be. And he’s so open. Trusting. Unaware. That’s what makes this so dangerous.

Every instinct in me says stop. That I need to leave; to fix this. But none of them matter.

The urge to taste his skin is overwhelming. But not his lips. The hollow of his throat is safer.

It works. Too well. His body reacts like I’d hoped it would. He trusts me.

His movement shifts—just enough for something to catch my eye. Dark ink, that like that on his arm. Instead this is low, his hip. A bear.

My breath stutters. I look away quickly.

My hands stay controlled despite my growing anxiety. Carefully touching him with deliberate strokes. Every movement is measured and every touch is intentional. There is no room for mistakes. I just can’t let him think.

I know there are differences between Tae and I. There must be. Our weight, the way we touch, the way we kiss. Differences that he would definitely notice. But if I concentrate on keeping him on the brink of ecstasy then he won’t be able to discern them.

The room fades around us.

Music, light—everything dissolves into something distant and unimportant. There’s only him. And that’s the problem. Because this was never supposed to happen. Not like this. Not here.

His body arches beneath me. The motion breaks that thought clean in half.

Focus snaps back momentarily.

Sharp.

Immediate.

There’s no room for hesitation anymore. Only movement. Only reaction. Only – need. It builds fast. Faster than I expected and harder than I thought possible. Everything narrows. Pulls tight and centers on one thing.

Us.

Nothing else exists. Not Tae. Not the consequences. Not tomorrow. Just right here and now.

His loss of control is audible. It’s not dramatic or sudden. As it dissipates I am left with the taste of him on my lips.

Every boundary erases without resistance. Every line crosses without a fight. And the worst part – it feels right. His reaction. His breath. The way he explodes in my mouth -. It all fits.

Too well.

Being inside him causes something to shift inside me then. The feeling is heavier. More perilous. It allows possession to settle where guilt should be. This feeling is uncomfortable, unwanted and unavoidable. The feeling lingers longer than it should. Much longer than is allowed.

Mine.

The thought comes anyway. I hate it.

Everything tightens. Builds. Spirals.

Until it culminates.

My release pulls everything in me with it – all control, thought, restraint. All gone momentarily.

Silence rushes in after. Thick. Heavy. Impossible to ignore.

Reality comes back too quickly.

I need to leave.

Looking at back the bed, he’s still there, waiting, totally unaware of what just happened.

That’s what makes this so wrong.

The hallway feels colder. Maybe because my phone is already nervously in my hand. Tae’s name lights up on my screen. For a second—I consider not sending anything. Maybe, I should just let them fall apart on their own.

But my thumb moves anyway.

He’s waiting for you. Times Square. I stare at the message. I hate myself for this. 22:00.

The numbers sit heavier than they should. But, I send it anyway.

It’s too late now.

Tae’s POV

If Suga asked for one more take, I was going to lose it.

The song already sat too close to something I didn’t want to touch. Too many memories wrapped up in it—ones Kookie and I had barely managed to move past. Singing it over and over again felt like reopening something that never fully healed.

And for what? So it could be repackaged, cleaned up, made palatable for everyone else.

I was done.

Jimin’s text sat heavy in my mind as I pulled the headset off.

Meet Kookie at the hotel. Times Square. Something about his jacket and a note. It didn’t make much sense, but it didn’t need to.

Kookie was there.

That was enough.

But, why didn’t he text me himself? The thought lingered, but not long enough to matter. I was already late—too late—and if there was one thing I knew about him, it was that he hated waiting.

“Guys… I’m done.” The headset slipped from my hand, falling somewhere behind me as I stepped out of the booth. My voice sounded distant, even to myself. “It’s not happening tonight.”

Suga started to protest, but I didn’t stay long enough to hear it.

Namjoon’s voice cut in instead, calm and steady, smoothing things over like he always did. “Tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

That was all I needed.

By the time I reach the hotel, it is past midnight. The hallway is quiet. Too quiet.

The door opens easily.

Inside, the room glows softly—candles flicker, rose petals across the floor like something out of a dream.

“Tokki…” His name leaves me on a breath, softer than I intend.

I move through the room slowly, taking it in.

The champagne has gone warm. Whipped cream is melted into something unrecognizable. Everything feels… paused.

Like it has been waiting. And so has he.

He is asleep. Flat on his back, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting lightly against his chest. His head tilts slightly to the side, breath slow and even.

It looks normal, save for the blindfold. Not a sleep mask or a bandana slipped down to his eyes. But a deliberate blindfold hiding them.

My chest tightens. How long did he wait for me? “Sorry…” The word barely makes it past my lips.

A quick shower to wash the day off, but not the weight of it.

By the time I step back into the room, the quiet has settled deeper.

He hasn’t moved.

Sliding into the bed beside him feels natural.

Easy.

Like coming home.

I prop myself up on one elbow, watching him for a moment before leaning in. A soft kiss brushes against his lips.

Familiar.

Grounding.

“You’re full of surprises tonight.” His voice is still thick with sleep, but his body reacts instantly, without hesitation. His hand finds the back of my head, pulling me closer as the kiss deepens.

There he is. My hand moves instinctively, finding him, drawing a slow reaction from him as his breathing quickens. His hands follow, tracing along my shoulders, my back, pulling me fully on top of him.

He’s so warm.

Real.

Mine.

The blindfold must go. I need to look into his soul. I crave that connection—the way his eyes always soften, and everything diminishes when he looks at me. That is ours. It always has been.

I push it over his head letting it fall away.

His eyes blink open, adjusting slowly, and then—that smile. “Like this,” I murmur, brushing my lips against his jaw. “Always like this.” I manage before capturing his lips again.

The rest comes easily. Naturally. Just like always.

Our skin touching is my safe haven.

We move together without thought, falling into a rhythm we know too well to question. His body atop mine, trailing slowly down. His movements at a snail’s pace at first, measured—until they’re not. Until they can’t be.

I always giggle when his tongue brushes the bunny tattoo hidden on my hip and this time is no different.

The nervous energy starts to settle as I anticipate what’s next to come.

His mouth moves over me, hot and insistent, pulling everything out of me piece by piece. Every touch, every breath, every sound—it all builds to something I can’t hold back.

I don’t try to. I never do.

“Please…” The word slips out before I could stop it, deep and desperate.

He only smiles that same sly smile, like he already knows.

As soon as he’s sheathed within me, my mouth finds the tender area of his neck just above his collarbone. Then his pace shifts.

Faster.

Deeper.

The tension builds, pulling us both toward the same edge.

“Fuck…” I try to steady my voice but to no avail. One hand deep within his hair and the other on the small of his back. My body moves with his, creating a rhythmic dance that only we hear the music.

Our pace slows. “Look at me.” My quiet command locks his eyes to mine instantly. This is it. This is everything. “I love you.” The words come easily. Like they always do. They are arrive on breath and something deeper I hope he never has to question.

“I love you, too.” He licks his lips before dipping his head to kiss me again.

And then— everything breaks.

The release hits hard, pulling us both under, leaving nothing behind but breathless silence and the steady rhythm of our hearts trying to catch up.

He collapses against me, limbs tangled. His sweat slick skin against mine.

Right where he belongs.

[btsstaysgold]

Anyone else stuck on this particular jikook or is it just me?!! 😩

(crtto)