#bad bts imagines

[orchidyoonkook]

Under The Willow Tree | MYG

Title: Under The Willow Tree   

Pairing: Bad Boy!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (T) | One Shot, Small Town AU, S2F2L, Implied Age Gap, Slow Burn, Angst, Touch of Fluff, Darker Subject Matter, First Kiss, Silce of Life

Summary: The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

Warnings: PG16, some not necessarily positive non-specific religious discussions, people using religion in a negative may, plot twisty, cursing, kissing, semi-apparent abandonment issues, discussions of dead parents and guardians, mentions of alcoholism in a parent, mentions of illness in a parent, yoongi has tattoos and a motorcycle, motorcycle lessons, longing, mishandled emotions, catharsis.

Word Count: 7401

Release Date: April 10, 2023, 4:05PM

A/N 1: This happened due to a writing prompts post I shared sometime in late march. I’m quite proud of it considering I hadn’t planned anything so the entire story was written as I was writing. Very different than my normal writing process. 

A/N 2: Thank you endlessly to @borahae-k​, @katykatmeow​, @here4btsfics​ and @phthartic-fox​​ for beta’ing this. I love you all for your help, support and kindness. 

It happened under a willow tree. A weeping willow.

Your favourite willow, to be specific. Even though there’s just the one.

It’s by the pond deep in the woods behind your house, where you watch ducks swim through the long, wispy branches that just reach its shore. Where you sit at the base, waiting for the sun to set the sky ablaze with colour as it falls into the horizon for another good night's sleep.

The one under which you had your first kiss.

You’d been waiting. Wanting it to be special, with the right person.

But a brief brush of soft, pink lips with the last person you ever expected had you wanting more, more, more.

It’d been a few months since he started coming to the willow. You’d assumed for the same reason you did.

To get away. From anyone and everything.

There aren’t many places in your hometown that allow for privacy, and you imagined he needed it more than anyone. Somewhere far from the residents' judgmental stares that were always nothing less than smothering.

Hailing from a very small, very rural, religious town where everybody’s known everyone for generations, your community is one where you follow in the footsteps of your parents and grandparents before them.

Where your life is already decided for you at birth, whether you know it or not.

Copy. Paste.

Copy.

Paste.

You’re born there; either at home with a midwife or in the one floor hospital down the main road. Raised there; a hand-me-down wearing, bike riding, creek-playing child.

You go to school there; stuck inside the same four walls from the ages of 4 to 18. Get your driver's licence there; from the sheriff after a road test that a 9 year old could pass.

You graduate there; from the same high school your friends, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents went to. Get a job; in town or on a farm, the only two options there are. 

And marry there; before 25, lest you become a spinster, subject to the gossip vultures also known as your neighbours. Then have some kids before growing old and dying, your permanent resting place dug in the same graveyard as everyone else that came before you.

Copy. 

Paste.

It’s a suffocating fate that petrified you to your core. And you’ve known you didn’t want it for as long as you can remember.

You never liked their rules. Didn’t want to become one of them, to do as they do, live the way they live.

You’d skillfully escaped making any true friends as you grew older, but kept the people you could tolerate close enough to not be bored on weekends. They’re all temporary placeholders in your life anyway, people who sound like robots stuck in the same settings. People who would hold you back.

What’s worst of all is that you don’t share the religion they claim to be so hallowed and wonderful. The one that’s unwittingly forced them all into this life of monotonous repetition.

You dream of more. Of life outside this dreaded purgatory.

Of leaving.

But no one ever leaves. They’re stuck here, in this downwards spiral of life you’re so desperately trying to dig yourself out of. It makes you feel like a fraud, constantly pretending to be one of them. Always wearing a mask just to make it to the next day alive, unharmed by them and their values.

It makes you feel like there’s always a pair of eyes watching, waiting for you to mess up and reveal your blasphemous self.

You’re terrified they’ll discover the truth. Terrified of the ostracisation that will come the second they know you aren’t one of them.

You’ve seen it in real time. What they do to people who don’t conform.

Seen how they treat him.

Two years older. Bleach blond hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. A leather jacket he wears like armour with all black clothes to match. And last, but certainly not least, a motorcycle.

You daydreamed about that bike. Taking it and riding far, far away.

The busybodied people of your town never had a kind word to be said about him. Instead, choosing to call him any and every horrible name under the sun.

Beast, bastard, demon, monster, criminal.

Unable to understand him, understand anyone different.

They herd their children away from him in the streets; parting like the Red Sea when he walks by.

As if he were acid.

As if he was evil itself, and not just a young man.

You’ve never even heard him speak because no one dares to talk to him, worried any contact could turn them, seduce them into whatever his sick ways were.  

And you’re ashamed to admit you’re one of them…sort of.

You aren’t worried about speaking to him, you’re worried about what being seen speaking with him will do to you.

You’re someone whose only salvation from complete and total social isolation relies on fitting in.

And even if it kills you to pretend, you only need to do it for a little while longer.

You just had to make it to college. You’d be the first one in decades to go. Their mindset of ‘you have everything you need here so why bother leaving’  having not once in your life resonated.

You can deal with them and all of their beliefs about what you should do with your life for the short hours of school and occasional shifts at the diner, so long as you can escape to your willow tree, you’ll be okay.

The weeping willow in the middle of the forest behind your house is the only one in the area. You never understood why that is, but it’s your oasis away from everything you hate.

The tips of its branches sway rhythmically in the wind, and moss creeps up its trunk. It’s surrounded by dense, plush grass for you to sit on, and after all the years of sitting in the same spot, a little groove in the shape of your body has formed at its base. 

Its canopy protects you from the outside world, creating a space where you don't have to hide. Where you can proudly be yourself without fear. Where you spend as much of your time as you possibly can to keep your sanity intact.

No one bothers you here.

Your mum died years ago from an illness they never diagnosed, her plot in the town’s graveyard long since filled.

And your dad never notices you gone, too drunk in your house up on the hill to care.

So as long as there’s a constant supply of food on the counter and beer in the fridge, you’re free to do as you please.

Under the willow you do your homework and sketch. You take pictures and eat breakfasts and lunches and dinners. You listen to music and dance under the safety of its shade.

Under the willow you read great adventure novels, and dream you’re the protagonists whisked away on grand adventures. Anywhere but here.

Under the willow is your home away from home. Next to the pond, under the stars.

So it’s to your great surprise when an unexpected guest pries open the curtain of flowing foliage one spring afternoon. A bleached blond, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, guest.

You don’t see him at first, too focused on the sketchpad in front of you. He steps in, and watches you work quietly, waiting for you to notice him.

You fascinate him. Every other girl in town can be found at one of three places, yet you were never at any of them. Not at the restaurant sipping on a milkshake. Not at the library studying. And not at the church volunteering. 

You’re always elsewhere. 

And he’s finally figured out where that is. 

He was nervous at first. To follow you. You’d never spoken but that wasn’t anything new to him. No one in this town ever did. 

Not to him.

But you don’t look down at him like the others do. Or jump out of the way when he walks by. You don’t tear away from his gaze as fast as the others. You hold on, even if for just a second longer. 

Unknowingly, you’ve captivated him more than anyone else he’s ever met.

So he followed you to see where you vanish off to, not expecting you to go into the forest behind your house. 

For a half second he considered you dangerous, because what on earth could you be getting up to in a forest for hours? But as he trailed the sounds of your footsteps and saw the small clearing with the tree, it began to make sense.

After jumping ten feet from seeing something tall and dark in your periphery, you exhale a large breath when you realise you aren’t in any danger, and shake out the nerves. 

You’d normally worry he was there to hurt you, but something in you knew he never would. Never could. Maybe it was the look he gave as he regarded you. 

Soft. Wistful even.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wary. The first words you’ve ever spoken to him.

Barely contained inside the limits of the willows perimeter, he shrugs, and takes a long look around your little sanctuary.

And as he does, you get your first real look at him.

He’s handsome. Stoically so. And for only a moment do you wonder about all the stories hidden behind his eyes.  

The ones now focused on you.

“Wanted to see where you disappear to. You’re never in town.”

So what if you were never in town? Why did he care? Wait—How did he know? Does he pay attention to you?

…Why you?

You didn’t think he cared to notice anyone in this town, let alone you enough to know you don’t follow the social expectations of someone your age.

To pick up on the fact that you’re never there at all.

It makes a million things run through your mind—Why does he care about where you go? What about you is so special? Does he even know your name?—before one resounding thought hits you like a ton of bricks.

Can you trust him?

No one else in this town does, but all of their reasons are superficial bullshit.

All you know is you don’t know the first thing about him, and that now he knows about the one place you feel safe.

“That’s intentional,” you say, cautious. Not giving away anything but not saying much either.

“Can’t blame you,” he responds, before checking out the rooftop of bright green and muttering, “Eyes and ears everywhere.”

Those four words alone are all you need. 

He gets it.

“Yeah.”

Maybe you can trust him.

Observing each other for a silent minute, there seems to be an unspoken understanding forming between the two of you.

And he shoves his hands in his pockets, asking, “Mind company?”

You think about it for only a second.

No. No you didn’t.

“As long as you’re quiet. I’m trying to focus,” pointing the eraser end of your pencil to the sketchpad on your lap. “The cattail leaves are the hardest to get the lines right.”

He nods, finally breaking free of his position at the branch's edge. Nearing the base of the tree, he crouches down, about a quarter of the trunk's diameter away from you. It’s close enough to still see each other, but far enough to not bump into one another.

And before nestling in fully, he extends a tattooed hand to you.

“Yoongi.”

An introduction.

“Y/N,” you return, putting your pencil down in the crease of your pad and shaking.

His hand is calloused, the ones you get from years of working with your hands. And strong, a firm grip. The kind you’d want to pull you up if you were dangling over a cliff. 

So many stories contained in a 3 second touch. Yet you find yourself wanting to know all of them.

Releasing, he settles in.

What surprises you most about the whole encounter isn’t his arrival, or speaking to him for the first time, or even the handshake.

It’s that when he’s comfortable, with one leg up for an elbow to rest upon, he digs a book out from the confines of his jacket.

Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island.

Your favourite.

Spring fades into a wonderful summer of late nights and early mornings. Of beautiful blue skies and vivid sunsets you appreciate a little more now that you have someone to share them with.

Yoongi comes almost, if not, every day to the willow. Always a different book in hand. Always one of the classics.

The Iliad, 1984, Jane Eyre, Moby Dick, Anna Karina, Dracula, Little Women, Frankenstein, Catcher in the Rye, and those are just the ones you can remember because you’ve read them too. Some of them more than once.

You never expected to have anything in common with the boy that sits next to you. But from the little you’ve spoken to one another over the months, you’ve found that you share so much more than just reading habits.

On a warm April afternoon he told you he reads because he loves it but also to escape the daily hell that is your town.

    “Mmm, what’s your favourite?” you’d asked.

    Yoongi was lying down with an arm behind his head, staring into the treetop. Brave New World sat opened and facedown on his chest, his hand resting atop it.

    “Pride and Prejudice.”

    That was the last answer you expected.

    “Why?”

    He lifts his head to look at you.

    “I thought the answer would’ve been obvious.”

After a cold drink on a hot June morning he told you his dreams of moving across the country. As far away as he could get.

    “Just have to save up enough money first.”

    You wondered how he made any. He definitely didn’t work anywhere in town…maybe waiting to inherit?

    Who knew?

    Both on a blanket you’d brought, Yoongi’s lying opposite and beside you, his feet by your hips. He used his balled up jacket as a pillow while you sat in your usual spot, capturing the way the branches swayed in your sketchpad.

    He’d taken to reading to you while you drew, including you in the grand stories he now knew you loved to read too.

    That day he had The Great Gatsby, a story you’d read about 20 times.

    You often dreamed of attending one of his parties. Of seeing the green light across the way, or having a conversation with Nick, why he stayed.

    “Are you anywhere close?” you asked, in reference to his saving goals.           

    “Getting there,” was all he gave.

And on a miserable, rainy night in the middle of August, is when you learned he’s all on his own.

    Sitting beside each other, you both huddled underneath his jacket for what little protection from the rain it could give. Water droplets fell from the tips of his bangs as he spoke.

    “My parents died in a car crash when I was 9, and then my grandma who took care of me, when I was 15.”

    You grieved for him as he told you his story.

    How he had to raise himself.

    Just like you did.

    “I’m sorry,” you’d replied gently. Softly. Knowing how it felt to have no one support you. No one to help you.

    Knowing how it felt to be alone.

    You understood.

    You did, you did, you did.

    Yoongi just stared at the ground, unable to meet your eyes. And you’d wondered if any of the water on his face was salty as he breathed out a quiet and heartbreaking, “Thank you.”  

    It made you question how many kind words he’d heard since his family passed.

    And also incredibly pissed off at the people in your town for how they’d treated him.

    How you’d…treated him.

    A silent promise was made then and there. Never having felt more embarrassed and furious with yourself than in that moment. You’d learned your lesson, and hoped that offering up your own piece of vulnerability might help him feel not so alone.

    Though you watched the rain turn the pond into a canvas of vibration as you did. Words dragged from the deepest parts of your soul, burning the back of your throat as they left.

    “My dad hasn’t been sober a day since my mom died. His eyes are turning yellow,” you said, hugging yourself to stop shaking, convinced yourself it was because of the cold.

    Even though it was August.

    “He doesn’t recognize me most of the time.”

    You closed your eyes, a familiar tang washing over your tongue as you licked the water dripping from your lips.     He gave no response, but an arm found its way over your shoulders and squeezed.

    He understood.

It’s the beginning of September. The air’s started to nip at your cheeks, and the ground crunches a little more everyday with all of the leaves falling underfoot.

The tips of the willows leaves have begun to turn the colour of the morning sun, and by the time mid October rolls around, it’ll look like golden hour every hour of the day.

Yoongi finally tells you about the job he has at a mechanic's in the next town over. He explains how they don’t pay him nearly what they should, but he doesn’t complain because every cent brings him closer to leaving.

Just him and his bike.

You turn sheepish.

“Can I tell you something?”

He sits closer after all this time, more comfortable around one another. Still not enough to touch, not crossing that invisible boundary line, but enough that you don’t have to turn your head much anymore to see his eyes.

Brown and endless.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take a deep breath.

“I kind of always dreamed of taking your bike to get away from here and never come back.” He gives you a look and you shrug. “Seemed the easiest route to take.”

A smile that starts as a smirk turns into a healthy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You demand. He has to calm himself down a bit before answering.

“You just uhm…don’t seem the criminal type to me, Cattails.”

There’s a flutter of something in your chest at the stupid nickname. For the drawing you did the day you met.

He continues, unaware of the goings on inside you. “Stealing? You? Nah. Not a chance.”

You open your mouth in mock outrage, scrunching your brow and bringing a hand to your chest.

“I’ll have you know I’d make an excellent criminal,” you lie to his face. He knows it too. 

But giving in, you detail the plan you’d always kept in your head for emergencies, heat slowly rising in your cheeks with every word.

“I’d take the key from you when you weren’t looking, duplicate it at the hardware store, and slip it back into your pocket before you ever noticed it was gone. Then go to your place in the middle of the night and be halfway across the country before morning.”

“Oh yeah?” he says with a raised brow you don’t trust.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a little too much faux confidence.

“And where do I keep my key, Y/N? Hmm?”

“Your jacket pocket,” you’d deduced long ago.

“Mmm,” he tsks with a shake of his head. “Nope.”

Oh. Well then it must be,

“Your pants pocket?”  

“Nuh uh, try again.”

Damnit!

You’d never thought much about it. How many places can someone keep a key on them without a bag and it not be in their pockets?

“Ummm, in your wallet?” Far-fetched but worth a shot.

“Ooo,” he blows through pursed lips before smirking at you again, but this one was different. It caused something very deep inside of you to turn to lava. “Good guess, but also no.”

Closing his book and setting it down, Yoongi straightens and reaches inside the collar of his shirt, retrieving a necklace you didn’t know he wore.

It’s small, the key, and almost silver. The colouring is tarnished from years of use, with worn teeth and some lettering at its base.

He holds it against a palm to show you.

“Why there?” You ask, wondering if there’s a reason aside from convenience.

With a sad tug of his lips, he answers. “Bike was my dads. I like to keep him close.”

A tender smile meets your own plush as you stare at the little key, appreciating it more after learning the importance it has to him.

And Yoongi watches you, viewing his ticket to freedom with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen, full of that same compassion and understanding you’ve always given him.

An understanding he didn’t think he’d ever see again from this place.

One he doesn’t know if he deserves.

Before you can respond, he’s taking the chain off and sliding it over your head, hand lingering for a second longer than necessary at your nape.

“Yoongi,” you hesitate.

It’s the first time you’ve said his name out loud.

You like the way it feels on your tongue. Warm, sweet. Like honey.

What you don’t know is he loves the way it sounds coming from you.

You falter. “W-what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“But it’s your key! Don’t you need it?”

“Nah, got a spare in the storage compartment of the bike,” he says, gesturing to the one you now hold in your palms. “This way you won’t have to go through the hassle of stealing it.”

“But I—”

“Keep it,” he cuts you off. “In case you need it more than I do.”

It never leaves your neck.

“You want me to what?” You ask as you walk towards the forest edge, Yoongi trailing on your left.

“Take her out for a spin. See if you even can. You’re the one who has all these grand plans but doesn’t even know how to turn it on,” he explains, referring to his motorcycle.

“Those were just daydreamed plans! I never thought I’d actually use them! What if I crash?”

He was kidding right? He must be.

For all the time you two have spent together, you’ve never spoken or been around one another in public. An unspoken agreement.

What happens under the willow tree, stays under the willow tree.

So to be out in the open? On his bike? You don’t know if you can. Or if you should.

But then you remember a promise you made not long ago.

“You won’t crash,” he says, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“How do you know? Like you said, I don’t even know how to turn it on,” you hmph.

“Because I’ll be there.”

And maybe it’s the tone of voice he uses, or the fact that you trust him, you find yourself saying,

“Okay, fine.”

Minutes later you’re swinging a leg over the bike, and sinking on to the surprisingly comfortable seat.

“Where do I put the key?” You ask, taking it from your neck and handing it over.

Yoongi puts it in the side of the motorcycle, somewhere close to your knee.

“Here,” he shows as he turns it to the ‘ON’ position.

“Oh.”

What a weird place for an ignition. 

“Mhm,” he acknowledges, then points. “Put your hand on the brake, it’s the part that sticks out on the right hand side. Hold it firmly against the handlebar. Don’t roll the handle bar itself back though, okay? That’s the throttle.”

Doing what he says, you hold the brake tight against the handle bar, murmuring an ‘okay’ under your breath.

“Now hit that button there on the right to let the fuel pump start up,” referring to the button beside the brake near your thumb. You do so.

He checks a little gauge on the side near the ignition. Seemingly pleased, he continues. “And now hit the button on the left to start it.”

Following his words once again, the engine roars to life the second the button is pressed, purring powerfully.

You feel exhilarated and a little terrified. But he’s here. You know you’re safe.

Voice a little louder to combat the noise from the motor, he says, “Okay, now on the left handle bar, grab the clutch. I’ll show you how to move into first gear, and look at me,” your eyes meet his, “do not let go of the clutch.”

You nod, but for extra precaution, he clamps his hand over the one you have holding it. You watch as he bends to put your left foot on a pedal and presses it down till you hear a pop, pushing up the kickstand when he rises.

The bike is heavy, now that you’re the only thing keeping it up right, you can feel its weight. And you understand why they’re designed to be able to have your feet on the ground even when sitting. You’d probably fall over otherwise.

“If you’re uncomfortable you let me know, yeah? And if you get scared just do what you’re doing now with this hand,” he squeezes for emphasis, “it’ll take all the power away from the engine and you’ll just coast until you stop, okay?”

“Okay!” You say, more excited by the minute. Your toes and fingertips are starting to tingle.

“I‘m gonna let go and you’re going to very, very slowly let up on the clutch—not all the way. Just enough that you move at about a pedal bike's pace. Let me jog down the road about 50 feet or so, and then you meet me there. Hold tight to the clutch again when you’re about 20 feet from me and I’ll catch you. Sound good?”

Nodding one more time in confirmation, nerves crawl all over your skin. You can’t describe the new feeling fully, but the closest you can find to it is probably the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

You watch as Yoongi jogs down the road, throws his hands up over his head, and gives you two big thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly release some pressure off the clutch and begin to move forwards. You know your feet are supposed to go on the metal foot rests below you, but you're so focused on not falling or crashing that you just stick them out so they don’t touch the ground.

Halting your left hands release at the speed he said to, you cruise along, wind picking up with your increased pace.

Holy shit!

You’re riding a motorcycle! 

You never thought you could, it was just a dream for so long. Something you kept in the back of your mind just for fun, but now you’re actually doing it! Your driving down the road on an actual real life motorcycle!? All by yourself!?

Turns out all you needed was a little encouragement and someone you trust to spot you.

Aiming for Yoongi, you clamp down on the clutch once again, cutting power to the engine. You drift right into his awaiting hands braced for the impact, and he slides a little on the gravel road before getting you to a full stop.

He presses one of the buttons you did earlier and the bike shuts down, allowing you to jump off.

You’re positively giddy.

“Oh my god did you see me?! I just did that! I just drove a motorcycle! Can you believe it?! I can’t believe I just did that!” You don’t even register what you're saying, too full of excitement to care.

Yoongi can’t contain his grin as he gets the bike standing on its own. Your joy is too infectious not to take part in, and he walks over for a high five to celebrate. 

But to his surprise, you bypass his hand completely and embrace him, throwing your arms around his neck.

It takes only a second before he’s enveloping you with his own, not letting the chance to hold you go by.

“Thank you!” You say, before letting go, not even realising what you did. You’re too busy catching your breath from all the rambling and jumping around, still filled with the remnants of your elation.  

Meanwhile, Yoongi can’t get the feeling of your body against him out of his head. How soft you were. How warm. The way you smelled like a mixture of your natural scent and outside.

And he’s asking, “You wanna to go for a ride?” before he can tell himself not too.

The question makes you pause. Was he serious? Because you can’t think of anything you want more.

Staring at him, your answer is far too gentle for someone who was just screeching with joy. 

“Really?”

He nods, still untrusting of his mouth, confirming with a ‘mhm.’

You don’t hesitate. You want to feel like that again.  

Not a minute later he’s giving you the helmet and securing it tightly. He also makes you wear his leather jacket to protect your torso, leaving him in just an oversized black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans.

Swinging a leg over, he pats the seat behind him.

And you’re glad to have the helmet on because without it he would most definitely see your inability to meet his eye. You can barely focus on anything aside from the sight in front of you and being wrapped in the scent of him. But then he gives a tattooed hand to help you hop on, and says,

“You have to put your arms around me and hold on. Otherwise you might fly off the back when we accelerate,” holding his hands behind him to guide yours. 

What? You didn’t think this far. He—you have t—Ummm, well... 

“Okay,” you answer, voice small, letting your hands be guided. 

Despite the loss of his jacket, he’s still deliciously warm, and the heat in your cheeks increases tenfold with your hands now splayed over his abdomen. 

Lightly defined muscles meet your fingertips through the thin material of his shirt and you do your best to memorize them as he turns on the bike and pulls away from the curb.

He starts slower than normal to make sure you’re alright, but when you give him the thumbs up, he speeds up to just over the limit and you hold tight.

You’ve never felt so free, loving the rush of wind that flows over your body from going so fast. It’s pushing a welcomed cold through the fabric of your clothes as your body temperature has only increased since getting on.

You could go anywhere, do anything. Nothing and nobody could stop you.

You want that. You want it so bad. And he gave you the key to be able to. 

Literally.

But now when you think about leaving, you think about leaving with him. Yoongi driving and you sitting right here on the back, nothing but each other, the road, and hope for the future.

Growing confident enough to release your grasp after a few minutes, you raise your hands in the air, and let the wind catch your fingertips.  A whoop of joy leaves you at this newfound feeling he’s given you. 

Then another, and another, before returning them to their place around him.

Yoongi can’t help but smile the biggest he has in years when hearing your squeals of glee.

Because for the first time in a long time, he feels it too.

Yoongi doesn’t come to the willow for almost a week.

He’s never done that since he started coming. Not once.

And you’re worried.

Where is he? Is he okay? You have no idea.

It’s not like you can go looking for him.

And you two aren’t anything anyway, so you shouldn’t even be this worried in the first place. If he’s safe, or in the bottom of a ditch somewhere.

But you can’t help it.

Just like you can’t help the feelings that have blossomed for him over the months. The feelings you didn’t want to admit to yourself for fear of him not returning them.

Yet there they were, and there isn’t anything you can do about them now.

They make you wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

Six days.

It takes him six days to return. Stomping in, and visibly pissed off.

“What’s wrong?” You ask once he’s close enough to hear.

“I’m leaving,” he says flatly, uncaring. Like you asked him what colour the sky was.  

And your stupid, silly little unrequited heart shatters.

“What?”

“I’m leaving. Taking off. Getting out of here. I can’t do it anymore.”

Piece by piece it falls from your chest and into the depths of your stomach.

“B-but why? What happened?”

“I got fired.”

“Fired?”

“Yeah, fired. I tried all week to fix this one stupid mistake I made,” he explains, smoothing over his creased brow with two fingers. “But it cost more to fix than to keep me around, so they fired me. I don’t have the amount of cash I planned for, but I have enough to make it work. And I can pick up odd jobs on the road if I need to.” He nears, extending a tattooed hand. “I just came to get my key and say goodbye.”

Your hand reaches for it, clutching it tightly. You don’t want to give it back.

Who the hell is this? Because you barely recognize him. It certainly isn’t the Yoongi you’ve come to know.

The wonderfully kind, classics reading, dream-sharing, motorcycle instructing, freedom key giving man.

The one who told you about his grandmother, and his parents. Who read you stories while you drew and ate meals together. Who taught you how to ride his motorcycle.

The Yoongi you fell for.

Your Yoongi.

The person currently standing in front of you isn’t him at all.

He’s the hard, cold exterior, crafted over years of verbal and societal abuse. The one everyone avoids at all costs when walking through town. The person he had to become in order to survive.

You don’t know this person.

And you hate it.

You hate it so much it decides to exit your body in the form of tears. Ones of sadness, frustration, and heartbreak.

He’s—he’s leaving. 

Actually leaving.

This place, it’s people.

You...

The few remaining pieces of your heart plunge to the floor, crumbling to dust as they hit. Nothing but a hollow, empty cavern remaining where it once sat.

“But I–you…,” the lump in your throat only getting bigger when you try to speak. You face away from him.

Don’t let him see you cry.

He’s clearly never felt anything close to what you do for him, so suck it up. Reign it in. You do it everyday. So why can’t you do it now?

You don’t get to feel this way!

Shove it back down, get it down!. Crush it all until it’s nothing.

Make it go away. Far, far away. 

Yoongi’s face is falling while you’re taking deep breaths to calm down.

In all of his rage and despair at his terrible week, he’s forgotten who he was speaking to.

His kind hearted, music-sharing, been through hell and back, kickass girl. The one he can call his only true friend.

He’s such an asshole. He hadn’t seen you for almost a week, which killed him in of itself. And then the second he does, all he‘s able to do is spew the frustration and misery he’s been feeling the entire time you were apart.

Nah, he’s worse than an asshole.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—”

But he freezes at the sound of a small, wet inhale.

You’re crying.

He made you cry.

And a regret bigger than the ocean drowns him.

“Hey, wait, please,” he says, rushing over, but you hold out a hand to stop him. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He reaches for you again, and again you stop him. You can’t let him comfort you.

Not when he doesn’t realise he’s become the only person in this whole godforsaken, judgemental hellhole of a neighbourhood wasteland you have.

Your grandparents are dead, along with your mum. Your dad’s an abusive drunk, too far gone to remember he has a daughter. You don’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins to rely on, nor do you have any real friends.

You have no one, aside from Yoongi.

And now you won’t even have him.

So you can’t let him comfort you. Can’t let him see you break.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

Because you don’t know if you’ll be able to put yourself back together without him if you do.

But a quiet, “Y/N, please,” imbued with pain you haven’t heard since a rainy August night leaves his lips. A last ditch effort to get you to look at him, to let him help. 

And it breaks you completely, bursting into a million tiny pieces to match your heart on the floor.

An unrestrained sob falls from your mouth, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Yours go to his neck as he drags you onto his lap, gripping tight. 

He holds you through every whimper and hiccup and stuttered inhale and shudder. Through every muttered ‘please don’t go’ and ‘please don’t leave me,’ that escapes, stroking a hand along the back of your head and down your spine, soothing.

He whispers, “it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay,” on repeat with the motion. Over and over and over until only occasional sniffles and deep breaths remain.

You hug him tighter as you start to shiver, the warmth created from your breakdown beginning to wear off. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to slide off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders. An instant cocoon of warm and comfort.

When his hands find their place back around your waist, he dares to speak.

“I got you.”

“I know.” And you do. Your voice is a little wobbly, as you’re unmoving from the embrace, but you most definitely do. 

This is your Yoongi. The one you’ve come to know. To trust. 

Of course he’s got you. 

You use one of your long sleeves to dry your eyes and under your nose. With the nearing autumn weather, you’ve returned to occasionally wearing them.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe into his neck after a long beat of silence.

“What could you possibly be sorry for, Cattails?”

The return of your nickname has a grin threatening to emerge.

“For freaking out. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“Don’t be,” he says firmly. “I sprung that on you in such a shit way because I was in an even shittier mood. And you clearly weren’t prepared to hear it. I should’ve known better, so don’t you dare be sorry about anything,” he loosens his hold to pull back and look at you. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

You look down, hiding, not wanting him to see you like this.  

“None of that,” he whispers, and brings a finger to your chin, tilting up.

It doesn’t meet much resistance.

Your eyes are still a bit swollen and patchy, but it’s the concern in his that makes you crack the smallest of smiles, if only to see his worry erased.

He already has enough on his plate. No need to add to it.

Not able to offer much more than a quirk of the lip, you’re relieved that it’s enough when he starts to wear one of his own.

It’s then you realise your position. Like the sight of it cleared your brain fog.         

You’re kneeling over his lap, sitting on his thighs, face inches from his. One of his hands is holding your chin up while the other rests low on your waist, your own still loose around him.

So close, yet so far away.

Because he’s leaving.

And that thought alone allows you to throw caution to the goddamn window. It’s not going to matter once he’s gone, and you’ve wanted it to be with someone special.

He’s as special as they come.

Leaning forward, you close your eyes and the gap between the two of you.  

Eyelids fluttering as your lips brush his. Soft, and gentle.

Like him.

You hold only long enough to make sure it counts before pulling back.

It’s funny, really.

It was just a few seconds, but you already find yourself wanting so much more with him. An unfamiliar but welcomed electric pulse finds itself running through your blood at the thought, and it makes you want his lips everywhere. 

Your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

Anywhere he can reach.  

Sparks pool inside you. Sparks and butterflies and fast flowing lava.

You let yourself relish in the glorious feeling for a single moment, before the reality of what you just did sinks in.

And then you’re scared.

Terrified, actually.

To open your eyes, see his face. His reaction.

What if he hated it? What if he’s never felt anything but platonic affection towards you and now you’ve gone and done this?

Sure, he’s leaving. But now that you think about it, does him leaving mean you’ll never see him again?

What if you just ruined everything?

Teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip, you take a peek.

For the second time today you feel your heart breaking, this time at the look on his face.

Is it shock? Or worse.  

Disgust?

Doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. Not knowing what else to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, trying to get out of his hold, but he keeps you there. Unyielding. And you start rambling. “I shouldn’t have done that. You clearly don’t—It’s just that you’re leaving and I—“

Lips on yours shut you up.

It’s fervent and needy and passionate as he pulls you closer by the hips, desperately trying to get you as close to him as physically possible. Your nails drag over his scalp as your fingers snake through his blond locks. They elicit a delicious groan from his mouth that you consume with your own.

It’s the most intoxicating sound you’ve ever heard, and you want more of it. So you do it again, and again, and again.

He moves down your jaw and neck, sucking at the tender flesh near your pulse point, and your mouth drops open at the feeling.

You’ve always wondered, but…you didn’t know it could feel like this.

Every touch, every whisper, every press of his lips to yours feels amazing. He’s pulling pleasure out of places you wouldn’t have thought possible before him. And you never want to go back to not knowing.

The sweetest of whimpers leaves your mouth as he gently bites a soft spot, then soothing the glorious pain he created with the kindness of his tongue.  

Yoongi swears to any god who will listen that he’ll do whatever they want so long as he gets to hear that sound repeatedly and for the rest of his life.

He returns to your lips and says, “come with me.”

You’re so focused on feeling that it takes a moment for his words to land. “What?”

“Leave with me. Let’s get the fuck outta here, and never look back, the both of us. Together.”

Yoongi looks so serious but..

He—he can’t be serious can he? 15 minutes ago he was going on and on about leaving and needing his key back and saying goodbye.

And now?

Sensing your hesitance, he punctuates each of the next three words with a kiss. 

“Come. With. Me.”

It makes your answer arrive without really thinking. You don’t need to think. Not when you know deep in your newly reconstructed heart that it’ll always be the same whether you think about it or not.

So long as you’re with him, you know you’ll be,

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” He questions like he can’t believe it. Can’t believe you'd agree.

You make sure there isn’t a single doubt in his head as you look him dead in the eyes and confirm.

“Yes, Yoongi,” another kiss. “I’ll go with you.”

He pulls you into him for what feels like a million more under your shared willow tree.

Your salvation.

And you know they’re going to be the firsts of many, many more to come.  

Three days later, and two bags packed full of all your earthly possessions, you’re on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle.

In those three days he’s prepared everything else you’ll need. He’s gotten a cute leather jacket and helmet for you, some reading materials for the road, snacks, drinks. A place by his side for the foreseeable future.

In the same span of time, you’ve given him a home in your heart, someone he can rely on other than himself. Talk to, trust, experience life with.

Something he hasn’t had in nearly ten years. 

Something he never wants to lose again.

He swings a leg over and you unclip the chain from your neck, handing him the key to the bike, to your now shared future.

Driving out of town—straight down Main Street—you watch as all the people you grew up with, who you almost destroyed yourself to fit in with, gawk.

Watch as they judge you for being with him, your best friend. For leaving, and not doing what they all expected of you.

For not being like one of them.

Because you’re not one of them. 

You never have been.

And just like the dust that flies behind the wheels, you feel weightless, not giving a single fuck what they think for the first time in your life.

You don’t have to anymore.

You’re free.

A/N 3: Thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi bad boy au #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #bts #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bts au #yoongi x y/n #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #UTWT #yoon writes

[yoon-kooks]

how many | jjk | 6

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 5.8k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

Warnings: fingering, blowjob, deepthroating, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex, he calls her babe, tight little pussy, boy got a big cock, slight bondage kink, creampie, possible dick tattoo (?)

A/N: this is probably the most smut you're ever going to get from me as a writer💖

◆ the one he'd been searching for ◆

At the door to his apartment, Jungkook shuffles around for the keys in his pocket. The shiny new addition to his key ring makes you smile to yourself as you follow him inside. The first thing you do is scan the hall for the fluffy white tenant. 

Upon hearing a tiny mew, Jungkook squats down, picks up Namjoon’s cat, and lets you greet her. She gives you a kiss with her pink nose before burrowing her face into your boyfriend’s elbow. For now, she’s the only one who’s allowed to be so adorable and affectionate with your man. But perhaps someday, the two of you will have kids who’ll also get to experience the love he radiates. It might take a while before it gets to that point, but the possibility leaves you excited for the future ahead.

“I’m gonna check and make sure my nosy roommate isn’t around today,” the boy says after dropping you and the cat off in his room.

While he’s off hunting Namjoons, you lay down on the bed next to the cat, still admiring the fresh tattoo on your hand through the clear wrap. You snap a quick pic of the bunny fairy and post it onto snowsleeve’s Instagram with the caption, “lent my hand to a hot new artist🐰✨”.

The comments that pour in are nothing but supportive.

“Pls tag this hot new artist so I can get my own👅”

“WHAT TAHTS SO CUTE OMF”

“i think ive seen this persons art before;;;”

“10/10 better than a face reveal”

“I need more of this”

“@agustd let’s get matching ones🐱🐣”

“#bunfairysearchparty”

“Looks kinda like @jjkINK’s style #bunfairysearchparty”

“okay wait i searched up @jjkINK and it makes sense. super talented #bunfairysearchparty #solved”

“@jjkINK Are your books open? Asking for a friend”

You’re so engrossed in all the comments that you don’t even notice the dark shadow sneaking up on you.

“Boo.” The curled-up kitty isn’t even fazed, but your whole body jerks up as Jungkook throws himself onto the bed beside you. He grins in victory. “What were you smiling at?”

“They’re starting a search party for you on Instagram,” you giggle, showing him your post along with all the comments. His eyes take in everything line by line. “A lot of people have sniffed you out already.”

“Well, they’re gonna have to wait a while before I’m officially open for business.” He pulls you into his chest and plants a kiss on your cheek. “You’re such a tease, Y/N.”

“It’s not my fault I wanted to show off my talented artist boyfriend,” you hum against his smooth skin. “By the way, how’d your Namjoon hunt go?”

“He sent me a text saying he’s out on a date or something. I told him I’d feed the cat so he can go get laid.”

“Aww, what a good roommate.” You give him a kiss on the lips, and his tongue doesn’t waste any time. It hasn’t been more than ten minutes in his apartment and he’s already craving your taste. 

The subtle movements of your bodies against the mattress wake the cat from its nap. She stretches and yawns before wedging herself into the warmest spot on the bed—right between you and Jungkook. Her whiskers rub gently against your wrapped tattoo as she purrs away. That tiny bit of contact is enough to make you wince at the soreness. Hopefully your boyfriend didn’t see.

“You should see my cat, Jeon,” you say as you wiggle your index finger around in front of the kitty’s big eyes. You of course use your non-tattooed hand so that your bunny fairy won’t be swiped by a feisty kitty paw. She catches your finger and starts nibbling on it.

“You have a cat too?” He believes you, even though you were just trying to be sly and cute.

You shrug your shoulders, and then it clicks for him

“Hey, can you come back in like an hour or two?” Jungkook asks of the oblivious cat, who finally gets the message and leaps onto the gaming chair instead. Turns out she’s a cockblock just like her father.

With the cat out of the way, the boy takes hold of your wrist to inspect the battle scar from earlier. It’s still swollen and red. “Are you gonna be okay for…?”

You nod despite the sharp stinging in your hand. The wait has gone on long enough.

“Okay, just don’t get too carried away with your tattoo hand.” He lifts your oatmeal sweater up and over your head and tosses it onto his desk, quickly followed by his white tee. Your eyes wander up from the feisty fairy on his abs as he holds both of your hands above your head against the pillows and climbs on top of you. “Let me do all the work today,” he says.

He quickly identifies the nape of your neck as a weak spot and caresses you there with his lips. One bite at a time, he works his way between your breasts, down your belly, to your inner thigh, only protected by your plaid mini skirt and sheer black stockings.

The preppy look you were going for comes undone piece by piece as Jungkook helps you out of your skirt and then your stockings. You’re left only in your lacy black lingerie.

“So… where’s this cat you wanted to show me?” he asks. He can’t play innocent. Not when he already has his finger looped around the lace that hugs your hips. 

“Find it,” you taunt him as you unbutton and unzip his jeans. His dinosaur boxers get your approval.

“Wait, is it a tattoo…?” He tugs at the lace with eagerness. “Down here?”

It’s cute how he’s always thinking about that one tattoo he hasn’t found on you yet. But it’s finally time to put the poor boy out of his misery. 

You sit yourself up, slide the lace down your legs, and fling it over to the growing pile of clothing on his desk. Without hesitation, the boy’s eyes are drawn to the untouched skin between your legs. He licks his lips and leaves them parted as he stares with such intensity. There’s no tattoo to be found there, but that doesn’t make him any less fixated on what he sees.

With gentle fingers, you close his jaw and lift his chin to meet your gaze so that he can’t just drool over your pussy all day. Leaning in, you snap him out of his daze and whisper, “Does that answer your question?”

Jungkook nods and steals a kiss. “Guess that means there’s only one place left to look.”

A confident hand works its way around to your back and unclasps your bra. You press the lace to your chest before it falls off your shoulders. 

This is it. This is where your little game with Jungkook finally comes to an end. You won’t have any more tattoos or secrets up your sleeve because he’ll have seen every part of you. He’s seen the shy you, the passionate you, the dorky you, the artist you, and everything in between. 

You let him into your world, and he embraced it.

The bra slips from your tattooed hand and falls onto your thighs. You watch as your boyfriend scans every inch of your bare upper body until he settles on the lower outer corner of your left breast.

“It’s pretty.” His thumb strokes the tiny piece of art on your skin. It’s the silhouette of a black cat perched atop a red crescent moon. “You did it yourself?”

You give Jungkook a modest nod as he looks down at his own chest to figure out how in the world you tattooed yourself at such an awkward angle. He might be the only fuck boy out there who’d delay sex in order to consider the specifics of a tattoo so intently.

Out of nowhere, you run both hands up the boy’s torso and push him down against the mattress and between your thighs. Perhaps he wants all the details about your first tattoo, but you can save it for the pillowtalk that comes after sex.

“Maybe you can tattoo me in all the spots I can’t do myself,” you suggest, drawing attention to those tricky parts of your body—spots like your neck and anywhere on your back. Two hands grab your ass and scoot you forward until your face nearly collides with his.

“A booty tattoo would be pretty hot on you,” he says against your lips. He gives your ass a good squeeze before rolling you over and getting back on top of you. Without wasting a second, his fingers sneak their way between your legs, dip inside you, and coat themselves in your glaze. He glides around your clit and asks, “Or should I tattoo you down here?”

“Not opposed to either.” No tattoo is off the table if Jungkook is the one doing it. And despite your low pain tolerance, you know you’d definitely enjoy having his hands on you in either spot for a good hour or two. “I want you all over my body.”

“Say less.” One hand takes care of your breasts while the other continues to rub you up and down until you’re all nice and wet. The flicks of his fingers are soft and sexy, and it doesn’t take long before your body is squirming beneath him.

He pauses a couple of times and makes it very clear that he’s in no hurry. You, on the other hand, are quickly becoming a hot mess, and the snail speed isn’t helping. It’s torture at its finest.

“More… Jungkook,” you manage to say between moans. “Please.”

Your boyfriend stares down at how turned on and needy you are for him. His eyes wander across your naked body from your slick center to your perky nipples to your flushed face. He takes his thumb and swipes it gently over your lips.

“Do you want my mouth up here?” he asks, watching carefully for a cue from you. His fingers down below tap on your clit several times. “Or down here?”

You feel the bundle of nerves swelling up between your legs at the mere thought of him lapping you up and eating you out. He’d be latched onto your center with the tightest grip around your thighs, unable to control himself like a vampire sucking his plaything dry. His tongue would surely be the death of you.

But the huge bulge in his boxers is an even deadly temptation.

You weave your fingers through the long hair at his neck and pull him down until your lips can reach his. This kiss is filled with hunger and lust. “Here is perfect,” you say before he goes in for seconds.

The boy obliges and continues on with the makeout session. He pulls back a second later and asks, “Wait, has anyone ever gone down on you?”

“Not yet.” Something tells you that’ll change in the near future, though.

Jungkook gives you a cheeky smile like the troublemaker he is. “You’re so innocent, Y/N.”

It shouldn’t take long to change his mind about that.

You slide your hand up the front of his boxers, right over his bulge. His entire body stiffens against the sudden contact.

“By the way, I’ve been thinking a lot about this dick tattoo you may or may not have,” you say as you continue to rub him through the cotton. “I imagine something like a cute little snake.”

“Me? Cute and little?” Jungkook snorts. Now that he repeats your words back, you have to admit it was a pretty innocent remark on your end. At least you know he finds your innocence endearing. “Try saying that again with my cock down your throat.”

Eager to accept his challenge, you tug at his waistband. He steps out of his boxers with haste and kicks them off to the side. The first things you notice are of course his lack of a tattoo and his size. He might be even larger than you’d been estimating while silently evaluating the bulge through his boxers.

“Sorry to disappoint, but there aren’t any cute little snakes here,” the boy jokes. He leans back as you slither your fingers around him and bring yourself in for a closer look. He’s warm, veiny, and awfully big, but there’s nothing you can’t handle from him. You shudder at the thought of him pounding into you with that massive size and length. You swear you’ve never been so turned on just from looking at dick. If the perfect cock exists, you’re holding it.

“No worries, I always appreciate a long and large blank canvas to work with.” You feel clever for coming up with that one. And who knows. Maybe you’ll be the one working on his dick tattoo in the future.

Both you and Jungkook watch your tattooless hand go up and down his length. He’s getting so tense and worked up despite how little you’ve touched him. You want to see how far you can push him.

“I know you said you’d do all the work today, but I don’t think I can help myself,” you say, wetting your lips a few centimeters away from his erection. Perhaps it’s your own desires clouding your judgment, but he looks like he could really benefit from having your mouth around him. You plant a soft kiss just below his swollen tip and glance up at your boyfriend for his thoughts on your unspoken proposal.

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that.” Jungkook’s eyes are as gentle as eyes can be in the midst of sex. He pokes the back of your tattooed hand and says, “Just be careful with this hand, okay?”

He’s being so sweet and considerate about your newly branded skin, but you honestly wouldn’t mind if he tied your hands up to ensure you’re behaving the way he asks. That’s another kink to explore some other time, though. 

“It’s a good thing sucking you off doesn’t require much hand usage,” you smirk. 

Knowing his eyes are all on you, you decide to make a spectacle out of what would otherwise be an ordinary blowjob. Your tongue starts by teasing him with a few wet kisses all around his length. The room is filled with the sounds of diligent sucking and the needy kind of moans you only make when you’re really craving cock. You want to make sure he knows how into his body you are.

When you take a peek to see how he’s holding up, he’s straining his neck just so he can watch exactly what you’re doing to him. If you didn’t already have your mouth around his cock, he probably would have started jerking off to the show you’re putting on for him with all your lewd sounds and naked body. You love the thought of him pleasuring his horny self at the sight of you doing something naughty.

“You taste better than ice cream,” you say after a very intentional flick of your tongue over his tip. The teasing doesn’t stop there, though. Your lips just barely graze him as you let half his length in. His poor cock is like a lollipop melting away against a tongue that hasn’t tasted pure sugar in months.

Even if you tried, you couldn’t stop. You’re addicted to him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans in rhythm with the movements of your mouth. “I take back what I said about you being innocent.”

You try to fight off the stupid grin creeping up on you, but you fail miserably. “I’m only this naughty when I’m with you.”

“Good.” He does his best to maintain his composure as you take the rest of his length, but that’s not working out too well for him. You feel him wince in pleasure as soon as he hits the back of your throat. His breathing is rough and sloppy in a way you haven’t heard before. You’re driving him crazy, and you love it. “I need you all to myself.”

The boy watches on as you devour him like a popsicle. You’ve always thought you had your gag reflexes under control, but you have to admit his large size is a lot for your throat to take on. Jungkook wasn’t just talking himself up earlier.

Your half-moan, half-gag vibrates against his cock. His hand reaches for yours on instinct.

“You good, babe?” His sudden concern and pet name for you are like positive reinforcements for choking on his cock. You want to do it again, over and over. 

“Mm,” you moan, continuing to slide his length up and down your throat. Somehow, you feel your throat warming up to his size. That doesn’t mean you won’t keep gagging to stroke his ego, though. It’s your way of acknowledging that your boyfriend has (by far) the biggest cock you’ve ever sucked.

“Sure I’m not too big for you? What about your tight little pussy?” He’s taunting you again. And you lean right into it.

“Let’s find out.” You finally pull back from his erection and crawl forward until your breasts are dangling over him and your pussy is aligned with his cock. He reaches up with his thumb to wipe the glossy glaze off your plumped lips. You lick the rest up like sweet syrup.

To stall things out just a bit longer, you rock your hips back and forth so that your clit drags against his tip as the two of you makeout. You’d been so focused on sucking his cock that you’d forgotten how sensitive you still were between your legs. As tame as it might seem, grinding against him like this feels so fucking good. 

When your little bud gets a tad too excited, you put your hips on pause and push yourself back up into a sitting position on top of him. As soon as you lift your ass again, Jungkook’s hands slip beneath you for support. You make him watch as you curl several fingers up your pussy to ensure you’re wet and horny enough to accommodate his massive size. No shit you’re horny enough. 

You reach behind your back to grab his cock and position him where he can ease into you. His cock has the audacity to give you a little nudge at your entrance, but his eagerness is understandable. You feel it too. 

As you slowly lower yourself onto his length, you’re thankful for the “safe sex speedrun” (as your gamer boyfriend likes to call it) the two of you went on in the weeks leading up to this. Nobody’s getting preggy, nobody’s catching any STDs, but you will get to experience just how good he feels with no condom in the mix.

“You’re awfully tight, Y/N,” Jungkook hums, the corner of his eyes crinkling upward in the most endearing way possible. He’s right. He’s only got an inch or two in and plenty more to go. He must be feeling like a god right now.

You’ve encountered a handful of larger-than-average dicks in your sex life, but you’ve never taken this long to get them all the way in. The boy also picks up the time ticking away.

“In the meantime…” he starts but never finishes his sentence, rubbing your clit between two fingers. The jolt of pleasure proves to be counterproductive as your muscles tighten around his cock. You hate how weak you are to his fingers. One of these days, you know he’s going to catch on and make you get on your knees and beg before he even lays a finger on you. You won’t be able to resist, either.

“Fuck,” you huff. His fingers find a nice rhythm, gradually getting stronger and more intense. You give into the pleasure and throw your head back for just a second. But if he continues down this path, you’re going to come before you’ve got him halfway in. To prevent your bundle of nerves from exploding on the spot, you pull both of his hands up to your breasts as a distraction. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“You have the perfect tits, you know that?” He squeezes them both like stress balls even though you know he hasn’t had anything to stress about since midterms. It’s probably just the frustration building for every additional second he’s forced to wait before fucking the shit out of you.

Once he’s in as far as he’ll go, his hands slide down to your waist where he has a strong grip on you. Like the gentleman he is, he lets you take the lead first. You use a combination of your hips and thighs to leverage your weight up and down his length. Meanwhile, your greedy little fingertips take the opportunity to get acquainted with his hard abs. You’re once again reminded of how in shape he is. His commitment to everything important—his health, his studies, his future, you—is so incredibly attractive.

Despite how much you crave wild sex, this first bit is still slow and sensual, just until you adjust to his size. Your hips are hard at work on his cock, and you find it kind of romantic the way he gazes into your eyes as you pleasure yourself on him. 

As you speed up, you hear more and more grunts and groans from the boy’s throat. And once you’ve got a steady pace going, you start to feel his hips move beneath you. His thrusts are so strong that you’d probably bounce right off his cock if not for his hands keeping you strapped into place. At least he gets a nice little show from your bouncy tits he loves so much.

“Is rough okay with you? I can go harder,” he says with the smuggest look on his face. You didn’t realize there was a level up from what he was already doing. Not in that position anyway.

As soon as you nod, he lifts your entire body up off his cock like it’s nothing, just to show off the results of his daily visits to the gym. In a smooth transition, the two of you switch positions with you on your back and him on top.

You get a good look at him holding his big throbbing cock over you, and your hand wanders down between your legs on instinct without you realizing it. You rub away and feel how swollen and close you are to hitting your high. 

Leaving your legs spread open, you eagerly wait for Jungkook to shove himself back into you. He angles his cock at your entrance and works his way inside you with relative ease this time around.

“You’re so fucking tight,” the boy growls. He cups your chin and steals a passionate kiss from you before pinning you against the pillows. He has a gentle hold on the wrist with the bunny fairy flying right above it.

“And you’re so fucking big,” you finally admit, hoping to unlock another horny masculine urge from him. “It feels so good.”

The roughness behind his first few thrusts is a not-so-subtle reminder to hold on tight. You reach around with your free arm to hang onto his back, like an innocent hug that eventually turns dirty. If the sex gets any rougher, Jungkook might have a few claw marks on his back like he’d been scratched by a feral cat.

With your claws dug deep into his skin and your other arm still held down above your head, you feel secure beneath him—secure enough to ask to be fucked as hard and deep as your boyfriend can go.

The first opportunity you get, you throw your ankles up over his shoulders to angle yourself better and casually suggest deeper penetration. And as soon as you say the words, the boy pounds his cock into you and hits just the right spot. Over and over again.

The moan that escapes your throat is the filthiest sound you’ve ever made. It’s a combination of pure pleasure and you trying to fight off an orgasm. If you weren’t so caught up in the sex, you’d probably feel at least a tiny bit embarrassed. Instead, it only encourages you to keep losing yourself to the pleasure as you inch closer and closer to your high. You’re just really glad no one else is around to hear it.

“I’m close,” you say, making a total mess of his hair. He continues to fuck you hard while swirling his fingers down around your clit to finish you off. God, you love his fingers.

“I can tell, babe,” he chuckles sweetly. Of course he can tell. You wouldn’t be making lewd sounds like that unless you were at the peak pleasure of really good sex. And you love how he can continue to be so playful and endearing even when you’re about to come all over him.

You suddenly gasp out in pleasure and claw your nails into his neck. Your toes curl above his shoulders, and your pussy tightens its grip around his cock. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how fucking huge he feels inside of you.

As you ride out the waves of your orgasm, Jungkook uses the momentum to match your pleasure with his own. You run your hand against his back in a massaging motion and say his name softly to let him know you’re his number one supporter at the final stretch of this full-body workout session. 

He grunts your name back along with a lot of sloppy profanity in response to an exceptionally strong clench around him. He gets harder and harder with each thrust until you feel yourself being filled with his creamy glaze. It’s like a massive release of all the sexual tension that had built up from the day you two met. In your experience, normal sex doesn’t feel this good. Then again, you’d like to think you and Jungkook don’t have a normal relationship. 

It’s something special, and you want to cherish it forever.

You feel the wet trail that’s left behind as Jungkook pulls out, proof that it wasn’t all just a wild sex dream. His cock is drenched like a freshly glazed donut. You lick your lips even though you know you’re too worn out for another round.

“Hungry?” your boyfriend asks with the biggest grin before drowning you with a thousand soft kisses. “For actual food, I mean.”

“Right, actual food.” Your voice still has a naughty undertone as you hop up off the bed and stretch out your limbs. You make sure to give the boy a nice view of your glowy post-sex body. Maybe he’s also worked up an appetite just by staring at your naked self. An early dinner might be in order.

After washing up, you throw on one of Jungkook’s oversized tees and walk into the kitchen. The cat is busy eating her seafood dinner while the handsome chef is stirfrying noodles and veggies with what smells like the okonomi sauce you recommended to him some time ago. You spot the half-empty bottle on the counter to confirm your suspicions.

“You’re right, this sauce makes everything better,” he says with a noodle hanging from his mouth. He slurps it up and gives you a small bite to try as well. It tastes so familiar yet brand new at the same time. Something tells you it’s the chef that makes all the difference. You’d eat those noodles every day if Jungkook were the one cooking them for you.

“We should try making actual okonomiyaki one time,” you suggest, dishing the meal out between two bowls. That would be a fun little date activity—shopping for ingredients together, struggling to make a proper okonomiyaki, and eating it anyway when things go horribly wrong.

“Ooh, yeah. Have you seen all those videos where they’re throwing all the shit together on one of those hot plates and it comes out perfect every time? They make it look easy.” He pulls out his phone, and the two of you spend the next half hour going down the okonomiyaki rabbit hole as you fill your bellies. Never mind that you’ve already seen these videos. You just love Jungkook’s enthusiasm because it reminds you that your bond with him will never just stop at art and tattoos.

It’ll go as far as you and Jungkook want to take it. In your mind, the sky is the limit, and you’ll aim for the stars every time.

After a long day of big reveals, tattoos, sex, and okonomiyaki, your body is finally running low on energy. You curl up with the cat in Jungkook’s bed as the boy finishes his shower. All you can think about is how perfect the day has been. You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Your eyelids start to feel heavy until your smoking hot boyfriend returns with wet hair and no shirt. You’re not ashamed to say you’re wide awake now after seeing his bare skin again. As soon as he rolls onto the bed, you snuggle up to his chest. Your nose is filled with his spiced body wash, and you’re tempted to breathe him in until you’re intoxicated.

“So…” Jungkook sneaks a hand up your shirt and rubs the tiny cat and moon on the side of your boob. “Are you going to tell me more about this tattoo?”

“I want to know what you think about it first,” you say, sitting up and lifting your shirt up just enough for him to see the design clearly. He examines it again and even holds your hand tattoo up right next to it for comparison.

“It’s like night and day. The dark and mysterious cat on the moon, and the bright and innocent bunny fairy. One is for everyone’s eyes, while the other is hidden away waiting to be found.”

“I didn’t even think of that.” You’re thoroughly impressed by your boyfriend’s critical thinking. You wonder what that analysis says about you.

“Oh, and it reminds me of Sailor Moon,” he adds. Of course the biggest Sailor Moon enthusiast in the room would pick up on the loose inspiration for that design. 

With a soft laugh, you lay back down and resume the cuddling session. You wish you’d never left. It’s so warm and toasty in Jungkook’s arms. And you know you’re always safe with him.

“Can I tell you a behind the scenes secret about this tattoo?” You point to the side of your boob. The boy nods. “It was either this tiny one or a whole sleeve.”

“You were really considering a whole sleeve?” He runs his hand up and down your arm to generate more body heat. “What happened with that?”

“You know how, when you’re in this industry, people expect you to be covered in art? When your arms look like mine, a lot of people will question your authenticity, especially when you’re just starting out,” you explain.

You might have celebrities and fellow artists who’ll back you up now that you have a large portfolio and presence on social media, but it wasn't easy for you in the beginning when you had no one.

You’d heard a lot of shit being said about you, and you tried to push past it, but it got to be too much at some point. You specifically remember another artist saying, “What does she know about tattoos if she doesn’t have any tattoos of her own?”

That’s when you decided to bite the bullet despite how you felt about needles.

“I just thought it’d be easier to move forward if they could see how passionate I was about tattoos. A sleeve would’ve been clear proof of that.”

Jungkook plants a kiss on your sleeveless arm. “The assholes who judged you clearly didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“I eventually realized that,” you say softly. “I ended up designing the whole sleeve, only to look at it later and say I couldn’t go through with it.” 

“The last thing you want to do is have a whole sleeve of resentment tattooed to your skin,” he says. Your boyfriend says the wisest things sometimes.

“That’s why I downgraded,” you agree. “Part of me still wanted a tattoo, but it didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. So I went with this cute little guy and tucked him away for a handsome boy to find a few years later.”

“I’m glad you let me see it.” Jungkook gives your whole body a good squeeze. “I bet your sleeve design was sick, though.”

You roll over to grab your phone and scroll through your photos. Once you track down the design in question, you hand your phone over to the boy.

“Oh shit.” His eyes are wide as he zooms in to catch every little detail. Among all the chaos you’d thrown into the piece, Jungkook points out something intriguing. It’s a black panther perched on a crescent moon. It still surprises you how good the details came out on it.

“That’s the one part of this whole design that I still really like,” you say. Clearly you have a soft spot for the moon panther. Otherwise you wouldn’t have the miniature version of it tattooed to your breast. “It feels like a waste to have abandoned it.”

“Weren’t you supposed to have a consultation today to discuss design details with a client?” Jungkook hums innocently as if he’s not referring to himself. “He might be interested in the moon panther, if that’s an option.”

You draw an imaginary circle on the boy’s forearm that isn’t already covered in ink. It’s easy to imagine that sort of tattoo on him. It suits him perfectly. “It’ll look good on you.”

“I can’t wait.” Jungkook does that adorable wrinkly grin again and melts your heart away. “By the way, was that the origin story for how you got the name snowsleeve?”

“Yeah.” You smile back. You’ve always had a special attachment to your IG handle because it’s a reminder that you’re a tattoo artist whether or not you have a sleeve to prove it. That was the confidence boost and secret identity you needed back then before you had people on your side—and before you had Jungkook. “But now that I think about it, I might have to change that name if you ever cover my arm in more bunny fairies.”

You wonder what clever name you’d change it to. Or maybe you’d start going by your real name. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

After letting out a huge yawn, you kiss Jungkook on the lips and drift off to sleep feeling so warm and safe in his arms.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook tattoo #bts bad boy au #jungkook #bts

[luciathcv]

er ist ein gangster - jjk

summary: gangster!jungkook x reader - in which you fall in love with a gangster (inspired by vorstadtjunge by sxtn) || warnings: suggestive content (no full on smut), they smoke weed, mentions of a gun || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 1400

when he came over to you in a party

you should've pushed him away

told him to fuck off

you knew that he was no good

your friends warned you about him

but you couldn't help it

you hung out for the remainder of the party

him and you

and then, he offered to drive you home

you weren't sure what that would lead to but one thing you knew for sure is that you weren't about to let him fuck you after only a few hours of knowing him

he arrived in front of your house, the only reason he could do that was because your mom was out with her friends, not there to witness her daughter getting dropped off by jungkook

jungkook kind of had a reputation

a bad one at that

before you got out of the car, jungkook kissed you

you kissed him back, okay with just this but then you felt his hand going under your shirt

you pushed his hand away, telling him you weren't ready for all of that

he brought his hands away, holding them up, "my bad, i should've asked." he says

you can't help but giggle a little

you exchanged numbers while at the party so you guys both started texting ever since that night

he was working towards getting his license to become a tattoo artist

you had noticed his many tattoos on his arm and on his hand

you found it kind of hot

you were only still a senior in high school which was okay since he was only a year-ish older than you

one day, after school, you were starting your walk home when you saw a familiar matte black car pull up beside you

the tinted windows were rolled down and you looked inside and saw jungkook in the drivers seat, motioning for you to get in

so you did

he drove around with you for a while, talking, all that

he said he wanted to take you out that night

you were still in your uniform and just gross from being at school all day so you told him that you needed to back home but were fine with it

he gave you a small smirk before driving you back home

he kissed you once more before you left his car and went inside to get ready

later that night, around midnight, you got a text from jungkook saying that he was here, parked around the corner

you snuck out through the back door, something you'd never done before him, and headed to his car

he drove you to a place by a cliff that overlooked the city

he made sure that he backed into the parking spot so that he could open the trunk and sit with you back there while still being able to admire the view

you both sat in the trunk and he pulled out a little canister

in the canister was blunts, pre-rolled up and ready to be smoked

he took one out and pulled out his lighter that he always kept handy in his pocket

he lit the blunt that he held in his mouth with his teeth and took a puff

he then offered you the blunt but you declined (at first)

he just shrugged and didn't pester you anymore but after a few minutes, you were shyly asking him if you could try it

he handed it to you and you put in your mouth

you took a hit and couldn't help but cough a little as you handed him back the blunt

he laughed a bit

"first time?" he asked

"yeah.." you shyly admitted

"don't be shy. i can be your first time for a lot of things." jungkook responded

you shyly slapped his chest in embarrassment, making him laugh again

the next weekend, he invited you to come to his place

he picked you up, and drove you their

not wanting you walking around their alone

he didn't live in the best area

he knew that

but he knew he'd protect you as long as he was there with you

you walked inside his small house

you were shocked that he could even afford this place at such a young age

even if it wasn't much, it cost a lot to have a house

you were so innocent in that way

you and him drank, smoked, and just chilled and well, one thing led to another and you lost your v-card to him

that next morning, you'd woken up before him

you weren't sure what to do

do you do the walk of shame out of here?

leave while he's still sleeping without a word

or what?

when you went to get out of bed, he groaned and stopped you, asking where you were going

you stuttered as you tried to find the words

he just pulled you closer to him, hovering over you and kissing you, "you were really just going to leave?" he asked with a small smirk

"well, i thought that was what you wanted a hookup-"

you knew his reputation

he was a textbook fuck boy

but for him, this was different

he wouldn't have even bothered texting you after the first night if you were like the other girls

let alone, hang out with you all these times

"do you want this to just be a hookup?" jungkook asked, still hovering over you

"no.." you admitted nervously

"then i don't either." he says

weeks went by and you were still going steady

thing was, you still weren't exactly aware of his... affiliations, i guess you could call it

you never really took the time to connect the dots

that was until one night

you were chilling on the couch with him

watching a movie

when there was several aggressive knocks in his front door

you flinched and he sighed, patting your head before getting up and walking over to the door

you watched as he opened the door slightly and started talking to someone

he looked back over to you and when he saw you looking, he pushed the guy back a little and stepped out of the place, shutting the door

after a few minutes, jungkook came back inside

you look over at him and he walks over to me, sitting down next to you and putting his arm around your shoulder like nothing even happened

"who was that?" you ask

"a friend." jungkook responds

"a friend?" you repeat

"yeah." he says

"what happened?"

"what do you mean?" jungkook asks

"he was banging on the door.."

"it's nothing, baby. don't worry about it." jungkook tells you

you pout a little as you scoot away from him a little, not liking that he obviously wasn't telling the truth

jungkook let out a huff, "what's wrong?"

"why are you lying?" you ask

jungkook doesn't say anything for a few moments

"baby, i'm just looking out for you." he tells me

"how?" you ask confused, but with a bit of attitude

"babe, drop it." jungkook responds, passively

you do drop it, but that doesn't mean you act like nothing happened

you push his arm off of me and move to the other side of the couch

jungkook huffs, truth be told, he had a bit of a temper

"come here." he tells you

"no." you say

"y/n." he sternly said

you gave in, moving closer to him

"baby, i... i'm involved with some bad people. you understand?" jungkook asks

you don't say anything as i connect all of the dots in my head

the fact he has a whole house so young, the way he constantly had drugs on him, the gun that i'd found in his glove box, the way he'd always tell me he was busy but never tell me why, his tinted windows, the way he always seems to have money to spend

"oh," you say, understanding what he was getting at

"i'm sorry, baby. i should've told you from the start. i knew you wouldn't want to be with me if i did, though. i'm so selfish. i shouldn't have even gotten you involved in all of this." he tells you

you just pull him into a hug and he hugs me back

"i love you." you say, saying those three words for the first time in our relationship

jungkook stiffens a little before relaxing, "i love you too." he says back

er ist ein gangster

doch ich werde ihn für immer lieben

he is a gangster

but i will love him forever

-- link to my masterlist

#bts #bts x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagine #kpop #romance #established relationship #fluff #gangster!jungkook x reader #bad boy x good girl #luciathcv

[97luvs]

him in this live did something to me and now i will never be the same. ever.

#this angle is something 😏 #ifykyk #also the hybe shirt #he’s just too much to handle (in a good way) #i want him so bad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook photo folio #jungkook smut #jungkook nose #jungkook icons #bts

[ineffablecollision]

Rhys Darby as Steve Rutherford

#reposting because i guess saying the basic anatomy pp word is bad????? #why exactly these two moments? well some ofmd bts images and frames inspired this #because he's the only man i might believe if he told me he has a huge one #i never imagined i'd enjoy wrecked as much as i did because seeing steve going from weird murderer to guy who fucks sure was a journey #tbs wrecked #steve rutherford #rhys darby #all that jazz

[alphabetboyluvr]

BAD DECISIONS - JJK | FOURTEEN

The silence remains. You're twisting his chain around his neck, now. Getting the clasp to the nape of his neck instead of at the front where it had been. Jungkook watches your unfocused eyes and wonders what the fuck is running through that disco ball mind of yours. "Hey, Byeol?" "Mhmm?" "You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

Bad Decision #14 - New Rules

warnings: jungkook incorrectly does a bird!!! byeols bird is unhinged!! smut - fingering!! oc hasn't shaved and jk simply prefers it that way! no kissing rule established (boo), no pet names rule established (double boo), no hand holding either!!!! jk has a huge boner <3 f receiving, nothing for him!!! rules are rules!!! mirrors <3 jk is always so chatty he he , mild hand kink?

soundtrack: nonsense - sabrina carpenter; wrong- zayn, kehlani

wc: 8k

bd total wc: 450k (on-going)

minors dni | 

BD MASTERLIST  | WATTPAD Ver.  | A03 Ver. |  SMUT INDEX

"Hey," you greet Jungkook with a coy smile by your apartment door. He smiles back. Tells you that you look like shit. Is definitely lying. 

The way he looks you up and down gives it away.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, still a little uneven in colour because you don't want to put it through even more torture. A slouchy white shirt hangs off your left shoulder, and a pair of dark leggings hug your legs. It's casual. Comfy. Still got glitter on your eyes, as always.

Jungkook can't remember if you've had a discussion about yoga leggings, and how they've got a track record of giving him boners in record speed.

You haven't. You're just aware your ass looks fairly good in them. Not like it matters. Not like you need him to think your ass looks good. No, nothing like that at all.

You also haven't started a daily squat challenge. That would be immature. Flirting with danger. And even if you had, it would be incredibly stupid to leave the chart up on the kitchen fridge - which is where you beeline after you leave the door open for him. 

You don't bother inviting him in, mind you. He knows he's welcome. Not because he's been there a thousand times over, nor because it's where you usually spend time together, but because the apartment is yours. He's welcome in your space.

But he is incredibly early - and you tell him as such when you curl up on the couch, tucking the piece of paper you'd swiped from the fridge door beneath a stack of magazines. Jungkook takes the spot next to you, despite the fact there are plenty of other places for him to sit instead. Part of you is tempted to kick him off.

The rest of you, though? So incredibly glad to have him close again.

"Danbi's class runs for another half an hour," you tell him as you scroll through the Netflix landing page.

It's a Monday, and neither of you have been at work today. The perks of your schedules aligning mean that Monday is always a safe bet, but you'd been in desperate need of alone time. The past few weeks have exhausted your social battery.

Jungkook gets like that sometimes, too - but he also doesn't like spending too much time in his own head, and so when a text from you had pinged through earlier that afternoon asking if he wanted to hang out, he replied almost immediately.

It's been a week. Over a week, actually. It's the first time he's seen you since you left his apartment. There's been no real discussion of what happened. A few 'i've seen your tits lol' texts here and there, but nothing that really qualifies as a grown-up conversation. You think you like it better this way; prefer the ominous unknown of the impact such a venture has had on your friendship. 

For the most part, it seems like it's had minimal impact. None of which you can recognise straight off the bat, at least. Maybe he's a little more comfortable now than he once was, but you can't really tell. Not entirely. 

Thing is, he always seemed comfortable before. There's never really been a need for boundaries. They came and went naturally. 

Perhaps that's your problem: you got far too relaxed far too quickly.

And yet you keep a little distance. Who cares if he's seen your tits? God forbid you sit too close to one another.

"Class?" He questions, not realising Danbi was still studying.

She isn't. It's just her hobby. Something she does to unwind after spending all day chasing after unruly dogs.

You nod, eyes still on the screen, looking for something mindless to put on. He's here for the second installment of your Deadpool marathon, so you don't want to put anything worthy of investment on. 

"Pole."

"Pole as in..." he says slowly, not sure of the correct term, so you help him out.

"As in pole dancing," you confirm. "She's been doing it for a while. Keeps trying to get me to join."

Jungkook doesn't look at you as he smirks, his eyes now also focused on the Netflix loading screen. "You? Pole dancing?"

There's a jovial glint in his eye, as if he thinks it's the funniest thing he's heard all afternoon. If you were to say that, he'd tell you that you're wrong. It's the funniest thing he's heard all day.

"Hey!" You kick your leg out to tap him, but he stops it before you can reach him. Squeezes his hand ever so gently around your foot. Pushes it back towards you, and holds it down. "I could be good at pole!"

He looks over to you now. "Byeol, I've seen you after twenty minutes on a treadmill. You don't have the stamina."

The smile on his lips would make it seem like he's joking - but he has seen you on a treadmill after twenty minutes. He's absolutely telling what he deems to be the truth, and the offence you take only makes him smile even more.

"Don't-" you halt your words to utter a shriek of disbelief. "Don't have the stamina? Fuck you."

"Nah," he grins. "You wouldn't have the stamina to handle me."

The conversation remains steady; a flirt between friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's easy. Casual. 

And when Danbi gets home, it doesn't change. Oh so incredibly easy. Jungkook fits into the life you've carved out for yourself, almost like there was a nook waiting just for him. 

Pizza is ordered. Deadpool is played. Ryan Reynolds' ass in lycra is praised. Everything is as it should be.

When it hits midnight, and Danbi is already tucked up in bed, Jungkook makes his excuses. Gears up to leave. Mentions the fact he's got the gym in the morning. Can't be out too late.

The part of you that considers telling him to stay is quiet. Instead, you just nod and agree. 

"It's a miracle you're still able to have a decent sleeping pattern," you say as you walk him to the door. "I'd be exhausted all the time."

He doesn't tell you, but he is. Really could have done with an evening to himself. Uni is ramping up, and he's worried he's gonna fall behind on his coursework already.

It's why he's pretty much radio silent for the week that follows.

Until, all of a sudden, he's not.

Jungkook: DB. 

You: That's no better than disco ball.

Jungkook: It's better than BD.

You: ...Ball disco?

Jungkook: Big Ditties.

You: Oh my god.

You: I'm blocking you.

Jungkook: No you're not. Come hang out. 

Jungkook: Coursework is driving me insane.

Jungkook: Need a distraction.

You: Good. Hope it does <3

Jungkook: :( comeee.

You: No :) x

You arrive a little after ten. 

Jungkook is in sweats and a T-shirt, beyond the point of caring to dress up in your presence. Your dynamic is well-established by now; comfort found in the confines of your time spent together. He's got a buttered slice of toast in one hand, a dusting of crumbs detailing the tips of his fingers like the glitter on the inner corners of your eyes. He'd burnt it. You can tell by the scent that lingers in the air, and the knife marks near the crusts where he'd tried to scrape it off. 

He grins, in that stupid kind of lopsided way he always does whenever he gets his way. 

"Thought you said you weren't coming?"

Your lips are pursed, annoyance written along the line of your frown. The ink is water-soluble, though. One bite down on your bottom lip and it washes away. "I'm here to see the children."

He stands to the side. Opens the door just a little bit wider. "It's about time. They were about to report you to child protective services."

"Oh, yeah?" You encourage his teasing as you step over the threshold. 

"Uh-huh," he continues as he bites down on the toast. It crunches beneath his teeth, but doesn't stop him from talking. "Negligent mother, they said - shoes off -" he interrupts himself when you point to your feet. "Take them to my room though."

It's curious, the way he's still keeping you hidden. The only reason for them to not be in the hallway is to stop Jimin from asking questions when he arrives home. 

If you knew the grilling Jungkook's been getting ever since that evening Jimin nearly walked in on the pair of you, you'd understand. It's far easier for Jungkook if he gives his housemate as little ammunition to tease him with as he can. 

But Jimin's not home. He's in Busan for the weekend.

Jungkook doesn't tell you this. He's not sure why. Part of him doesn't want to talk about Jimin with you. It's stupid, he'll admit, but he likes being your friend. Likes you being his friend. Doesn't like Jimin having one up on him.

He thinks it would be the same if he had a sister. That kind of protective nature.

But he's also seen you naked. Knows that he really can't kid himself into thinking it's entirely platonic. Is kind of confused by it all.

Just knows that he likes the way things are. Doesn't want them to change.

And so he doesn't mention Jimin.

When you enter his room, shoes tossed by his desk, you clamber up onto his bed and take a seat. There's no protest from him, no sign of it being an unwanted intrusion on his space. His sheets have been changed since your last visit, gold acrylic immediately washed away the morning after.

He takes a perch on his desk chair, swinging it around to face you. You're lit only by the lamp of his bedside table and the glow of the city coming in through his curtains. The warmth of the light makes your glitter look like crackling embers burning through the night skies. 

"So," you say, all very matter of a fact. There's a demure nature to your poise. It's not very 'you'. "You requested my company?" 

He nods.

"Why?"

He spins in his chair to his desk, and picks up a bird. Reads it aloud. "Invite a girl over."

You look at him for a moment, and purse your lips. He's an idiot.

"We both know that this isn't what that means."

"Why not?" He says as if he's genuinely without a clue. 

"Because!" 

You don't elaborate. Think there's no need. He knows exactly why not - but he's an insolent little fucker when he wants to be. 

"No, because what, Byeol?" He says with a grin. He knows you're right. Doesn't care.

"Because," you emphasise. "We both know that inviting a girl over is so much more than just a simple act of asking her to come round. There are layers to it. Innuendo. It's like asking if she wants ramyeon, Kook. You know this."

There's a grin on his lips that he's trying to hide - and is failing miserably. 

"The bird says-"

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "It doesn't matter what the bird says. You know what it means."

"Yeah," he feigns innocence to his misdemeanour, eyes all wide and watery. So deep brown in colour it feels like a black hole is just sucking you in. Will never let you leave. God help the next girl who falls in love with him. "It means that I have to invite a girl to my place." He gestures towards you. Shakes his head. "You are a girl, no?"

"You've seen my tits, no?"

"You can't use tits as a qualifier," he tells you. "Not when you insist I also have tits."

"Touche - but still. It doesn't matter if I'm a girl. I'm not a girl girl."

"What does that even mean?" He scoffs, but he knows what you mean. Knows that the risk of rejection from you isn't the same as it is with a random girl. Knows that you're an exception. Not the rule.

"Like, a romantic interest," you say, well-aware he doesn't need it explaining. You just think you need to say it for your own sake. "I'm a friend. It doesn't say invite a friend round, does it?"

"Okay, but it doesn't not say that, does it?"

You're stern as you stare him down. "Jungkook."

"Byeol," he replies with a grin so cheeky it's impossible to remain poised. 

You roll your eyes. Lie down. Wave your arm in the air. "C'mere."

He doesn't relent. Doesn't say no. Just stands. Walks to his bed, and flops down beside you. 

"Gimmie your phone," you say, but he refuses. "Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not. You're just not getting my phone."

You sit up. Rest on your elbow and look down at him. His eyes are closed. "Why not?"

"Because."

There's a smile tickling your lips. He's imitating you - but he also doesn't feel like explaining. Doesn't feel like trying to find a valid reason beyond 'I'm scared'.

"What happened to facing your fears, huh?" You poke his cheek. "You gonna be a coward? How is that gonna help you?"

"Byeol," he whines, tilting his head to avoid your continued poking. It's annoying, and deliberate. You want him frustrated. Want him proactive. Want him a little riled up. "Stop."

You don't. 

"Byeol."

"I'll stop when you stop being a baby," you tell him, poking at his other cheek. Your finger travels all over his face, poking and prodding, ignoring the way he bats you away.

"Stop."

"You stop."

"Byeol."

And still, you don't. At least not until his fingers clasp around your wrist, holding it far away from his face.

"I said stop," he says with a voice so low it's almost a growl. His eyes are still closed. He pulls your hand to his chest. Holds it there. Is vaguely aware of the fact he's drawn you closer. Had almost made you lose your balance entirely. 

It's not until you speak that he realises quite how close you actually are. Hears how quiet you are, too. 

"And I told you to stop being a baby."

He opens his eyes. Takes you in. You're resting on his chest, thanks to his grip on your wrist and where he's positioned it. Neither of you seem to remember the concept of breathing.

You're close. Closer than he intended. So close he could probably count every single speck of glitter on the inner corner of your eyes. So fucking close. He thinks of the last time you were this close. 

Also thinks of the fact he's now wearing sweats, and really shouldn't be thinking about you naked. Not again. 

But he is, though it's not your body he's thinking of; it's your eyes, and the glitter that had been caught in your lashes beneath the water of his shower. How you'd glistened. And then fuck it, he's thinking of the way you showed him your fingers, all dainty and pretty, covered in your own-

"Fuck," you hiss in surprise, breaking from his gaze. His eyes fall to his chest, where the culprit of the interruption lies. 

Another bird; resting pretty just below his ribs. It moves, up and down, with the contractions of his lungs. Jungkook looks to you, then back to the bird. You sit up straighter and pinch it from his chest. He just lets you, because he doesn't wanna be the one to do it. 

He can tell from the wing shape alone that it's one of yours - and even if he couldn't, the way you groan and let your body fall onto his in defeat is a clear sign. He laughs. Strokes his hand up your arm, then ruffles at your hair.

"How bad is it this time?"

You just whine again. 

"That bad?"

Nodding into his chest, you hold out the bird for him to take. Only once his chest begins to stutter beneath you, laughter taking hold of his lungs, do you sit up.

"Stop," you tell him, pouting. 

He doesn't stop laughing. Serves you right for not listening to him earlier. "Christ, Byeol. Are any of these birds-"

"No," you cut him off before he can finish. 

He sighs. Looks up at the ceiling. Shakes his head. Holds the bird to his chest.

"Let's think about this logically first," he says, because it's the only way he can think to not let things get out of hand again like he did last time. "Let's talk about it before we do it instead of after."

You nod. Take a deep breath. "Okay. What are you thinking?"

He looks at you and then back up at the birds. Scrunches his face up. 

"I'm thinking... Fuck, alright, I'll be honest. I haven't done..." he trails off, cringing at himself. "Since my ex - although, technically she isn't an ex, but you know what I mean - since her..."

You wait with bated breath. Know what he's getting at. "You haven't done this in a while?"

He's silent. Lets his head turn to face you. "Haven't done this in a while."

"It's okay. We don't have-"

"No," he says. "A bird is a bird. I want to do it."

"You do?"

"Well," he considers, pretending like it's the first time. He's thought about this a lot; the mechanics of your situation, how it plays out in the future. Risk assessment. He's good at those. Has to do so many of them at university that he's started drawing one up one for the pair of you in his head. "I mean if my birds are making me approach girls, chances are things will head in the direction of hooking up, right?"

You suppose he's right. Tell him as much. 

"So it'd be good for me to get practise in, right?"

"You think you need it?" You grin.

"No. But I enjoy it," he says. Holds his palms up above his head. Observes them. "I like using my hands."

They're large. One of them is covered in tiny tattoos, the other completely bare. Thin veins hide beneath his honey skin, the tendons always protruding just a little bit. The kind of hands that would be good to hold. 

"You've got nice hands," you admit. 

Long fingers. Thick knuckles. Well-trimmed nails. Perfect hands, you consider, but will never divulge. Wouldn't want to boost his ego so much.

"Have you been checking them out?" He teases.

"You made me!" you laugh, deflecting, then imitating his voice. "'Look in the mirror, Disco Ball, blah blah blah. Eyes on me. Watch what I do.' I didn't have a choice."

"Sure," he taunts, but he knows you're probably not being dramatic. He really did make you watch yourself, and is probably gonna do it again. Seemed to work well the last time.

He places his hands beneath the side of his head, and takes a moment to check how you're feeling. 

You reciprocate his actions. Look at him for a little while. Neither of you say a word. It's like you're mentally preparing for what's about to happen; making sure that it's okay. Giving one another the chance to back out. 

You won't, though. Far less of a coward than Jungkook.  Too much pride. 

"How do we do this?" you whisper. 

He smiles. Just faintly. Tenderly. "However is most comfortable for you."

"Well, yeah," you smile back. It's sweet that he feels the need to clarify this. "But I mean, literally. Logically. How do we- Like- Do I just... take my trousers off?"

"I mean, it could be a start," Jungkook laughs. "We're thinking about it too hard."

You groan. Look to the ceiling with an embarrassed smile. You're both a little awkward, but it definitely feels like the awkwardness is mainly your problem today.

"Did you... with Jimin. Did you do this?" Jungkook asks. He's not sure why. Just wants to know. 

The bird lies between you both. Has just two words on it. No exclamation points this time, but still with capital letters. Somehow feels less vulnerable to you than the last one.

GET FINGERED.

You consider not answering. Think it's kind of shitty to air Jimin's laundry in such a way - but it's just as much about you as it is him. More so, even.

"Not really," you admit. "A little bit. I hurried him along."

Jungkook pauses now. Thinks. Asks, "hurried?"

"It's just kind of what I do," you sigh, pulling your knees a little further up. Closing off. Protecting yourself. Jungkook pushes them back down again. You let him. "I don't really let people touch me, in that regard. I let them fuck me. Don't let them... have me."

Jungkook wants to ask what that entails, but figures you'd have shared it if you wanted to. 

"I guess," you continue slowly, quickly glancing away, before deciding that his eyes are what you wanna see when you explain your relationship with sex. You want him to understand - and so you look back to him. He doesn't take his eyes off of you. "I kind of focus on the other person, yanno? For me, sex? Now? It's validation, I guess. Proving to myself I can still give people some form of... I don't know. Satisfaction? So yeah. I don't really want people touching me, as such. I'll touch them. I'll get them off. And I'd prefer it if they didn't get me off."

"It's a power thing, isn't it?" Jungkook theorises. "Control?"

You're silent. Just shrug. Maybe.

"I think - and you can tell me to shut up if you want - but I think that maybe it's because of your ex. He always held the cards?" Jungkook pauses, but you don't respond. Just look at his chest. Toy with the silver chain around his neck. "And this is your way of holding them instead?"

The silence remains. You're twisting his chain around his neck, now. Getting the clasp to the nape of his neck instead of at the front where it had been. Jungkook watches your unfocused eyes and wonders what the fuck is running through that disco ball mind of yours.

"Hey, Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

You shake your head. "You get a say in this. It's not all up to me."

"I know I do," Jungkook replies without missing a beat. "If I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. You're in control, but I can't be forced to do anything. Good luck trying if you think I can be."

You narrow your eyes a little. "So you're saying you want to do stuff with me?"

He grins. "Well, I don't find you entirely repulsive, even if you are incredibly annoying."

"Always a charmer."

"It's how I get all those girls - oh, wait," he jokes. Pauses. Thinks. Sighs. "Look, I'd rather work through my issues before I fuck up yet another relationship, and from the looks of it, you'd rather work through yours too. It just makes sense."

"I mean, we could just get therapy."

"Expensive."

"Time-consuming," you agree.

"This is far easier," he smirks, before deciding that you've had enough serious chats. There's no point running around in circles again. And so he decides to lighten the mood. "Now do you wanna get fingered or not?"

"Oh my god!" You slap at his chest and roll onto your back, laughing. "You're fucking vulgar."

"Is that a no?"

"It's an 'ask nicely, Jungkook.'"

He rolls onto his back, now. Laughs, too. "Is that what you want? For me to play nicely?"

"You're not playing at all, yet," you remind him.

There's hesitancy from both of you. It's a little awkward, and so unlike you - but there's no alcohol in your system like there was the first time a bird was attempted, and no excuse to touch like there was with the paint. 

This one is just you and Jungkook.

"Can I go freshen up first?" You ask, a little nervous and highly aware of the fact you hadn't come with the intention of getting Jungkook in your underwear. He says of course, but you're halfway out of the door regardless.

As soon as you're in the bathroom, you're rummaging around in the cupboard - praying - looking for a disposable razor of sorts. You know Jungkook keeps his good one in his room, next to his towels. 

Apparently, Jimin just loves to share regardless of what it is, much to Jungkook's dismay. It's not like Jimin's razor is here either - he's taken it with him to Busan.

Your search is fruitless, and when you return to Jungkook's room a little unsure of yourself, jeans off and tossed onto his desk chair, he can sense there's something wrong.

"I haven't shaved," you sort of blurt out, much to his surprise. 

"Okay?" He grins, drying off his wet hands that he'd washed in the kitchen while you were gone. "Nor have I? You want a medal?"

"No, I just-"

"Thought I'd care?" He questions, a little bit offended. "First things first, this isn't about me. It's about you. And secondly, I kinda like it - so I really don't care."

"You like it?"

"I like pussy," Jungkook simply states. "Like it no matter what way it's served up."

"You're not eating it."

"Not yet."

"You are unbelievable."

"Believe it, Byeol," he winks, perching on the end of his bed. Reaching out, he encourages you closer. Gets you standing between his legs. "Enough fucking around though. I think we should set out some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" You question, knowing it's probably smart. Aren't sure why you didn't think of it first.

He knows why. Casual sex isn't that much of a big deal to you.

Jungkook's not good at the whole unattached sex thing, though. He only really sleeps with girls he's interested in romantically. 

A boy that looks like him? You had expected him to have well over a dozen notches on his bedpost - but he can count them all on one hand.

It's not that he's a prude, or vanilla, or anything like that. Jungkook fucks. He fucks well. He just fucks the same people for extended periods of time. Takes comfort in routine. No chance to sleep around when you're as loyal as a dog.

You're the exception, not the rule. Time and time over, it becomes more and more apparent. 

"Rules," he nods.

"No kissing," you reply almost immediately.

"No-" he's about to protest, but then nods. "No kissing."

In fact, he actually agrees with you. He loves kissing. Might even like it more than blowjobs. Would happily take an hour make-out session in lieu of foreplay. For him, it is foreplay.

And so despite how desperately sad he is to know he won't get his favourite thing, he understands why.

He only likes it because of how intimate it is.

"Anything else?"

You take a moment to think, and then decide, "No hand holding, either. And no pet names."

"Not even Byeol?"

"At this point, I'm not even sure you remember my real name, Kook. Byeol is fine."

He nods, then scrunches his nose in a little disgust. 

"God." He dry-retches. "Imagine calling you something like baby." He retches again, a light grin tickling his lips as you scoff in offence. "Yeah, no you wouldn't suit anything cute."

"You're so lucky that the idea of you calling me baby repulses me," you flirt right back.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks - and then he's toying with the hem of your shirt. Pushing it up. Ghosting the lace of your thong with the tips of his fingers. "You'd hate it, would you?"

His fingers creep down. The pads of his fingers trace the tops of your thighs. Skirt the lace trim of your panties where they cover your pussy. Has your heart beating at a mile a minute.

"Would be such a turn-off."

The way his eyes scan your face has you wanting to take back every single rule you've just set.

"So you're telling me you're turned on, now?"

His words are met with a shrug. "I don't know, Jeon. Am I?"

"If I'm not allowed pet names, there's no way in hell you're allowed Jeon."

"No?"

He stands. Towers above you. Turns you round. Lowers his head, and lets his lips ghost your ear. "Not unless you wanna get me hard."

You fucking giggle. It's sin. When you turn your head ever so slightly to whisper in his ear, he thinks about saying fuck it to the birds. Needs more than what they're providing. 

"I can feel you. You're already hard, Jeon."

He pulls away from you. Palms at his crotch. You're right. And so he just smirks. "Fine. Harder."

"Wouldn't that be a shame," you tease - but are met with a show of dominance you've haven't seen before from Jungkook as clasps both of your wrists together just above your ass. Positioning you just where he had you last time he was in your room, you know your underwear is getting ruined.

The view reflected back in his full-length mirror only makes your heart beat even faster. 

"I won't lie," he swallows back the nerves that he was able to hide while he was flirting. Down his throat they go, settling next to his heart that's already beating a mile a minute. Positioning himself behind you, he encourages you both to the floor. You're sitting in front of him, as he kneels behind you and pulls you back a little. "You're right. I'm already real fucking hard, Byeol."

"Really?" You smirk. "Couldn't tell."

He tilts his head back. Groans. "God, I hate you. I want you to ignore it, okay? It's my problem to deal with."

All you can do is nod. 

"Okay," he says softly as he leans around to position your legs how wants them: bent at the knees. Spread. You're on display - and Dear lord, what a treat for the audience. A treat for him. "Look in the mirror. Watch me, okay? Watch my hands."

And you do; watch the way his palms lay flat on your knees, then slowly, gradually, trickle down your thighs. "What do you say if you wanna stop?"

"Chess," you say, ending the word with a gasp as his thumbs brush the outer lace of your panties. 

"Good girl," he hums into your ear, but you can barely hear him over your beating heart as his thumb begins to stroke over your clothed pussy. You're already soaked. It wets his thumb. Has him smirking. "Told you so."

He pushes the lace to the side. Exposes you. Makes him curse. Is slow as he sinks a single finger into you. 

He keeps it shallow. Just the first two knuckles. Just enough to let you know he's there. You can still see the ink on his finger. 

The moan you exhale is desperate. Needy. Gets him all smug. 

"Just testing the waters," he husks into your ear as he pulls it back out, before the pads of his fingers begin to massage around your entrance.  He's teasing. Caressing. Doing shit you've only ever had women do to you. The dudes you've fucked have never really cared for stimulation beyond the clit; haven't understood that the right touches in slightly different places can get you so fucking needy. 

Needy like you mean it. Not the bratty kind, where you're in control; the pathetic kind, where they're in control. 

He's massaging. Using his thumb and forefinger. Working his way up your labia; left side, then right. Up, then down. 

It's not like the sensation is anywhere close to what it feels like when his fingers are elsewhere, but it's the fact he's doing it all that really gets you flustered. He's careful. Delicate. Wants you to feel good. 

When you let out a moan, you can feel him smirk against you. He lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes his middle finger inside; fully this time. Pumps into you once, twice - "are you always this wet?" - then begins to stroke against your front wall. You whine.

He pushes into you again. Tells you how fucking hot you sound. Pulls out. In again. And then he builds speed. Fucks his finger into you. Just one - but it's enough.

Finally, you answer him between laboured breaths.

"Dunno. You'll have to do this again sometime and figure it out."

Withdrawing his finger, Jungkook rubs small circles over your clit. Holds onto you tighter. Smirks as your whimpers begin to build. His nose nestles into your hair, lips against your ear. "You want that, huh?"

The way your hips push up and grind against his languid movements should be indication enough - but you don't want to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

You smirk right back. "Meh. You could always just compare notes with Jimin, instead."

He pauses for a split second. Scoffs. Sinks his finger back into you. Builds pace. Can hear the sounds of your soaked cunt and knows that it would be cruel to compare. Jimin wouldn't stand a chance. There's no way he had you like this, too.

And Jungkook would be right. The way Jungkook has you now is unlike any of your hookups. You're sober, for a start, and that always helps in the wetness department - but you are wetter than you've been in a fair while.

His fingers are long. Intentional in the way they move. His middle finger hits all the right spots as it pushes into you. He curls it gently without needing to be told. He just knows. Can feel the slight difference in texture. Had trained himself to find it in the past, and is pleased to see yours is just as easy to locate.

You don't think Seokjin ever found it. Not really. For a while, you pretended he could - but it never felt like this.

"Kook," you rasp, ridding your mind of all thoughts of Seokjin. He's no right to be in your brain when it's someone else making you feel so good. "Right there. Right there. Fuck."

"I know," he husks. "Can you take another?"

All do you do is nod. Moan something incoherent. You want more.

He can tell.

"Can you take three?" he asks. You just fucking nod. Will take what he gives you. "Mhhm?" 

He bites down the syllables, stopping the 'baby' he wants to mewl from coming out. He knows pet names are a no, but it's a force of habit. It's just like the muscle memory in his fingers knowing how he should touch you; something well trained, well practised.

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Has your cunt stuffed with his fingers. Will make you cum.  

It's just as much for him now as it is for you. He's watching your face, how you refuse to open your eyes, how your dewy lips are rested ajar, soft moans humming from your throat. 

He kind of hates the rules. Knows they serve a purpose, and that they're smart, but it'd be so much easier for him if he could kiss you. 

It's not that he actively wants to make out with you, it's just that it comes naturally to him. He doesn't think he's ever been inside a woman without actually kissing her. There's a sizable portion of his brain which is having to work against his instincts, now. If he didn't have to waste that energy, he could spend it on you instead.

But it also makes it exciting. A little sordid. You've removed the romance he typically associates with a position as promiscuous as this. Maybe he is capable of fucking around.

"I know," he husks as your body writhes beneath his touch. "Ba-" Shit. "Byeol, I know. That feel good?"

Feel good? Feel good? What kind of a fucking question is that? If you could form a coherent sentence instead of moaning every other second, you'd ask him as such. Instead, you settle with, "fuck." 

"Should I take that as a yes?" he smirks against your hair, his second hand dropping from the grip it has on your waist down to your pussy. Pushing your thighs a little further apart, Jungkook has you in the palm of his hand like a fucking ragdoll. His hands work in tandem, fingers plunging into your while he rubs dainty circles over your clit, careful to not be too aggressive. He's taking his time. Building your high. 

"Take it as a 'you could do better'," you whine, just to wind him up a little. He's doing fucking fantastic.

"Better?" He sounds offended, but is smirking, watching pleasure take hold of your features. He loves the way you goad him on. Knows you must be a right little brat in the right scenario. Think maybe one day, he'd like to experience it fully. For now, he simply growls into your ear. "Open your eyes. Look at yourself." He builds his pace. The sounds of him sliding into you are lewd. Soaking. Sopping wet. "You hear that? Tell me to do better again. Go on. I dare you."

Your gaze opens, all hazy and cum-drunk, falling on the mirror. Your skin is dewy, and the incident positioning of your spread legs puts you on full display. 

Jungkook withdraws his fingers. Spreads your lips open. Holds his stare on you. Watches as your wetness drips from your entrance. Rubs circles on your clit. Encourages more. Watches as it seeps from you. Presses his hips upwards to let you know he's still fucking solid for you. He gathers your leaking slick on his index and middle finger, then pushes it back into you. 

He's panting, too. 

And so you smirk. Watch the pained lust in his eyes. Tell him, "do better," in a hushed whisper.

He's slow. Lets his touches linger. Doesn't pump into you like he had been - instead, he scissors his fingers ever so gently - and that's when you decide he's a menace to society and that you're probably doing the world a favour by keeping him off the streets for a little while longer.

"Holy shit," you hiss, and then your fingers are wrapped around his wrist again. He fucking laughs. 

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his smirk not hiding his teeth. He's thinking about kissing you again. Just a small one. On the side of your head. Has to talk just to stop himself.

"That better, Byeol?" 

All you can do is whine. Nod a little. 

"Can't hear you. I asked a question. Give me an answer," he teases. "Now, is this better, Byeol?"

"No," you lie. "Considerably worse."

"Fine," he says, and pulls out. Grips your thighs with his soaked fingers. Squeezes them together. Lets you pant for a little while. He's panting, too. "On your knees."

"Sorry?"

"You will be," he smirks, changing his position behind you. "Get on your knees."

And so you do. You relinquish trust to him. Feel like you might have a heart attack from how fast it's beating - but he knows this. Strokes the curve of your hip. Hugs you into his chest ever so slightly and says, "the minute it gets too much, or you decide you've done enough... just say the word, Byeol." 

He nuzzles his nose against your hair. Likes the way it smells. Hugs you a little tighter, still. 

You nod. "At least tell me how you want me, first?"

It's the mental preparation you need, much more than physical. He knows this. Knows that his teasing has a time and a place. What was okay a few moments ago would be too brash now - so he tries a little tenderness once more. 

He waits for you to look at him. Not in the mirror this time, but head turned, eyes on his. The glitter on your eyes catches in the light. Reflects in his eyes. Puts stars in them.

"On your front. Head down," he says slowly, not wanting it to sound crude. "Ass up. Or just flat on your front, if you'd rather. Up to you. Wait-" He stands, holding out his hand for you to take. When you do, he pulls you up and guides you to his bed instead. Lets you sit. He still stands. "Just realised I was asking you to be facedown on the literal floor. My bad."

You don't say anything, just smile at the fact he realised it. Such a boy, and yet such a gent. He's trouble, there's no doubt about it. As your eyes study his face, he seems sincere - and so you turn. Lean forward. Stretch out. Face down, ass up.

"Fuck," he hisses and gets on his knees behind you. One of his hands grapples at your ass, fingers sinking into the peachy flesh. He strokes against the soft skin, and then asks, "how do you feel about spanking?"

You smirk into his sheets. Plunge even further into them. Raise your ass even higher. "It's not on the bird."

His fingers dig further into your cheek. You're mewling. He's getting delirious again. "Byeol..."

The way you move your hips ever so slightly is absolute sin. You know you're trying to make him crack. You know it's working. "Mhmm?"

He pulls you back. Presses the bulge in his trousers against you. He's still hard. Harder, even. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close, even as he retracts - before pulling you tight to him. Repeats. Ruts himself against you a couple more times.

"If one of those birds doesn't end with me fucking you-"

"You'll what?" you say with a sardonic smile as you twist your body around and out of his grasp. You're on your back now, reaching for his shirt, pulling him down. 

He complies. Tangles his legs with yours. Lets his hand cup your heat. Toys with you. Teases. 

"What will you do, huh?" You flirt. "Die?"

He smirks now, too. Knows that you're taking the piss. Quite likes it. Likes that you remember the shit he says when he gets too horny for his own good.

"Maybe," he husks, sinking his fingers inside you again. Didn't even get to have you how he wanted you, but he likes this. Likes the flirt. Likes how erratic your breathing gets. 

"Guess you'll just have to - fuck - keep waiting for them to fall," you turn a little. Hook your leg over his hip. Grind against him. Ride his fingers. "See if you get what you want."

"I'm incredibly patient," he lies. Builds the speed he's fucking them into you at. Uses the hand that's not bringing you closer and closer to climax to hold your chin. Wants to keep you looking at him. 

"Liar."

"I'll do this for hours if it means making you cum," he almost snarls over the sound of your moans.

You laugh. Stutter on the moans in your throat. Tell him good luck. Let him know that you can't remember the last time someone else made you orgasm. You can do it yourself, easy. Someone else? Good fucking luck.

"Fine. We're gonna make you cum," he says as if it's a group activity - but then he drops his grip from your chin and reaches to the hand of yours that had been hooked over his shoulder. Guides it to your pussy. "Get yourself off."

You stare at him for a moment. His pace eases, but his gaze doesn't drop. He's slow. Rubs at you just in the right way. And then he says, "get yourself off while I'm inside you."

You say nothing. Do as you're told.

"Good girl."

It doesn't take long. If anything, it's embarrassing how quickly he has you coming undone. Admittedly, you're just as much a part of it as he is. Without your input, maybe he would have had to have been going for hours.

But you are involved, and you're shaking around him. Legs trembling. Toes pointed. Head buried into his chest, fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from overstimulating you too much. His name escapes your lips as your orgasm ripples through your muscles, and Jungkook just fucking laughs.

"So fuckin' hot," he praises, lips pouty, in desperate need of a kiss to offset the fact he's practically leaking precum into his pants.

Rules are rules, though. They're not made to be broken. Not these ones.

He withdraws from you, and wipes the mess on his sheets. Will deal with it later. Watches you as you giggle to yourself, orgasm well and truly delivered. When your eyes open and focus on him, Jungkook is pleased. You look content. 

"I'm still scared," you simper. "We might have to practise that one a few times."

He laughs now, too. Rolls onto his back. Can smell your arousal on his fingers. Has never been more hungry in his entire life.

"Such a liar."

But you both are, in your own ways. 

"Maybe. Thank you... for that," you say, very aware of the unfair dynamics of just you getting off, but knowing that without a fallen bird to specify it, there's no way you can just reciprocate.

"Pleasures all mine," he says, as if he isn't letting himself get severely blue-balled. Knows what the agreement is though. You getting him off now would be just for his benefit. He laments the fact he's not scared of blowjobs. Wishes all of his birds were like yours, now.

The silence consumes you both. Has you wondering why you never come undone like that normally. Makes you think maybe you need to stop preventing people from touching you in such a way. Jimin had tried. You can remember - but you'd dismissed him. 

He's not the only person you've dismissed in such a way. Perhaps you will enjoy casual sex more if you don't keep your desires at bay. Maybe Jungkook's been right about this all along.

"Anyways," you turn to face him. "Phone."

"Hmm?"

"Well, we've done my bird. We need to do yours from earlier."

Jungkook says nothing. Is a little bit confused. He's still hard. You've barely come down from your orgasm. Surely nows not the time?

You couldn't disagree more even if you tried. It's the perfect time. Stops you from thinking about how fucking good that was, and how much you want it to happen again.

"You... want me to invite a girl round?"

"Well, not while I'm still here" you consider. "Like, text them now, but arrange it for another time."

"Yeah, but-" Jungkook wants to protest. Wants to remind you that his sheets are covered in you. Instead, he just looks at the ceiling, a little baffled.

"If it's too much, why don't you just text a girl, at least?"

He frowns. You don't notice, because you're looking at the ceiling, too.

But then he sighs. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is being a coward. 

"Alright," he reaches for his phone from the nightstand. Unlocks it, and opens up his Instagram DMs. Looks over to you. Catches your gaze. Smiles, despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "What do I say?"

BD MASTERLIST  | WATTPAD Ver.  | A03 Ver. |  SMUT INDEX

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #bd!jk #bad decisions

[local-queer-disappointment]

what if there was an alien, who was so autistic. and their special interest was humans. this is the true core of doctor who I think

#no thoughts head empty just the doctor being almost laughably biased #tbh we should all aspire to be some greater being's weird hyperfixation #when the dr sees humans do something bad i'm like nooooo you will cause him autistic distress so not do this please #this makes it even funnier how mad the master gets about it #imagine your childhood friend turned enemy like. got really into kpop or something. so you try to murder bts #doctor who villains are just an allegory for twitter users with no reading comprehension who have bad takes about your oomfies #doctor who #nuwho #the doctor #autism

[azucarmorena97]

Moth to Flame (Yoongi Short)

A/N: This is connected to Yoongi's part in my BTS As Cliched School Tropes piece

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, some smoke escaping the corners of his mouth as he tries to hold it in for as long as possible. He stares across the water at the distant lights. Your stomach is doing cartwheels as you wait for him to say something...anything. "You gonna tell me why you did it?" You ask, heart pounding loudly in your ears; you're trying desperately to hold back your tears. "Nothing to say," He shrugs, the cold expression never leaving his face. "Nothing to say, huh?" You repeat, letting out a bitter laugh. "The fuck do you want me to tell you, Y/n? That the only reason I approached you that day at the park was because I thought you'd be a good fuck? And now you're like a fucking flea that won't leave? Truth doesn't sound so damn nice when it's that fucking truthful, does it?"

At this point, tears are streaming down your face and your lip is trembling beyond your control. You don't need this. Any of it.

"Well...glad I finally know where I stand..." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's all you can manage. You stand up and dust yourself off, not wanting any remnants of this abandoned and decrepit building- or relationship- on your clothes when you get home tonight. Without another word, you turn around and walk out the way you came.

Yoongi's POV:

I can't bring myself to say a word just yet. I need to build the courage- especially because after this, it's all over. No take-backs, no redos, and absolutely no I'm sorry. It feels like my heart is gonna burst from my chest.

"Watch your fucking back, because I'm coming for you and your entire block."

The words play on a loop in my head, looming over me like a curse. I should've never let her get mixed up in this. I should've been more careful...I should've never gotten close to her in the first place.

"Why'd you bring me here?" She asks, her eyes doe-like and innocent...and so full of pain. Pain...because of me.

"Just...wanted to talk." "Okay...are you gonna start with the picture?" "What picture?" I pretend to not to know- in fact, I'm pretending like I wasn't the one to send it to her through the burner phone in the first place. She reaches into her pocket and takes out her phone, meanwhile, I brace myself so that I'm ready to keep the lie going. She turns her phone around, showing me the picture I coordinated for Jimin to take of me kissing Jennie.

I feel so horrible as I glance at the screen and then at Y/n's beautifully broken face... What I wouldn't do to tell her the truth. To hold her in my arms and comfort her- tell her it was all a lie.

But I can't comfort her. Not this time.

"What about it?" I won't even meet her gaze again. I might just break down if I do. "You gonna tell me why you did it?" I can tell she's trying to keep her voice steady, but it's no use- I know she's wavering. "Nothing to say..." "Nothing to say, huh?"

I'm so sorry for this, my beautiful girl...

"The fuck do you want me to tell you, Y/n? That the only reason I approached you that day at the park was because I thought you'd be a good fuck? And now you're like a fucking flea that won't leave? Truth doesn't sound so damn nice when it's that fucking truthful, does it?"

In that moment, I can almost audibly hear her heart shatter to pieces, meanwhile, my world is crumbling at my feet...my own doing.

When I see the tears falling, I almost break, myself, but I have to be strong. "Well...glad I finally know where I stand..."

When she turns around to leave, I almost reach out to pull her back but then I remember

that this is only small price to pay to keep her safe... to keep her alive.

Lemme know what you think! DM's, requests always open for short stories/prompts/suggestions for existing stories! <3

#bts #yoongi #suga #bts suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #bts angst #bts imagine #yoongi bad boy #jungkook #taehyung #namjoon #seokjin #jimin

[o97is]

ㅤㅤㅤ𓋺   ᜔ ⛥ ࣪ 𝅼 ﹙𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗌𝖺'𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾﹚ นางฟ้า ! 𔘓

#｡ ࣪ ҉ 𓈒 𓇼 ࿙࿚ 𓈒 ◌ ׄ ｡ ࣪ ҉ 𓈒 #Imagine Your Face Say Hello To Me #'Til All The Bad Days They're Nothing To Me With You #kim taehyung #taehyung icons #taehyung moodboard #taehyung packs #taehyung headers #taehyung layouts #bts layouts #bts icons #bts moodboard #bts packs #bts headers #kpop icons #kpop layouts #kpop moodboard #grunge moodboard #messy layouts

[abloomingperiod]

will | jung hoseok

"can i ask you something?" hoseok's voice enters the room, his right hand scratching the back of his head and the other one on his hip. he was definitely still gathering his words.

"shoot it", you respond. then you look behind to make sure he's still there and he keeps looking like he's away from there, deep in his thought. "hobi?"

"you can't get weird about it."

"now that's a way to start", you scoff lightly, his eyes finally looking at you, as a quiet 'gimme a hand here'. you smile at him, "go on."

"...do you ever think about the future?"

you stop your hands from folding the pile of clothes gathered over the computer table of your room. whatever he was on, it seemed more interesting than your messy clothes.

"yeah. every day." you respond honestly, and stop for a second to pay attention to his figure.

his hair is a bit longer. not much, but enough for you to fell its dark, soft ends every time you reached for the back of his neck to scratch, massage and hold. he's got a bare face, puffy little cheeks and tiny bags under his eyes.

always not ass rested as he should be.

"uhm" he hums, eyes still on the ground and the same posture as he started his questioning. "and do you think about our future?"

you smile bigger at his low voiced question. after more than a year together, one would think you've been dating for less than 3 months, if judged by the way hoseok seems to go about things regarding your relationship sometimes.

you don't see it as a reason for anxiety, though. you find it quite adorable, in reality. he was never rushed, he was never pressuring, and he was always asking for your thoughts and checking your pace.

and as a payback, you make sure everything is okay. you make sure he knows just how good he is, and just how good things are.

a silent agreement, a quiet teamwork.

a self-made synchronized choreography of how you two want to dance the beautiful dance your relationship is.

"yeah. every day." you repeat yourself, sitting down in front of him on the bed, hands on your lap and eyes staring at his, that now, detach from the floor.

now, they look at you.

and you instantly feel warmer.

"and........what have you thought about?"

"well... dates, trips, events..."

"events?" he mirrors your last word, lightly narrowing his eyes.

"what do you want to know, hoseok?" you fold your arms, also narrowing your eyes.

he sighs heavily, and you reach for his left hand, caressing his fingers and stopping on his tiny, thin silver ring, which happens to be exactly like the one you got on your other hand, "you can tell me."

he looks at your fingers and gives your hand a light squeeze, upside curl appearing on his lips.

"have you ever thought about being more than boyfriend and girlfriend one day?" he says quietly, almost hard to catch your ear, but so soft and warm you swear you can feel it like a hug.

"of course i have" you answer matter-of-factly and eyes fully searching for his. just now, you realize you're still smiling, because your lips start to ache. you lessen them, but don't take your eyes off of the beautiful, warm face in front of you, "i think you would make an amazing husband."

and with these words, you realize you should slap yourslef in the face more every time you felt dramatic or too much into novels for picturing him in your honeymoon calling you his wife here and there for everybody that came along.

hoseok's face go through 5 stages of euphoria.

surprise. what just happened; disbelief. she must be joking. in that case, ouch; realization. she actually mouthed the proof that she does think about it. happiness. the girl i love thinks i would make a good- no, amazing husband. pure and utter bliss. she wants me to be one.

and every one of them has his eyebrows less and less furrowed as reality hits.

you do want him to be an amazing husband one day. your amazing husband.

"really?" he checks, and you roll your eyes so hard they could rol back into your skull.

"yes, hoseok, i've thought about being your wife. one day." you make sure to tell him - which is a smart thing to do. based on what's going inside hoseok's head right now, one would think his knee might just go to the floor. "i also might've thought about a honeymoon trip, a backyard to host barbecue parties on sundays, the whole picture. what makes you so surprised?" his hand now ceasing his mirrored caressing to a halt. "i don't know if you know it, but this doesn't seem like a casual friends to benefits type of stuff anymore, you know..." you playfully tell him, reminding of how everything started for a brief moment so he could come back to earth.

with that, you think he would just stare at you the way he never even tries and hide the sassy side of him.

but no.

he smiles wider. his eyes crinkle in the ends, and his teeth show so much you question is he is not aching like you were moments ago.

"you want that?" he asks you dumbfounded.

your hand squeezes his and reach it to your right cheek, rubbing softly and nuzzling it. you nod, eyes on his "all of that."

your tone only sends butterflies over his stomach. you say it as a fact. as something that is in the books, on the news, billboards and journals all around the city.

of course you want all of that.

"if you want it too", you say. now, it's your time to check.

and hoseok snaps.

his arms suddenly wrap around your waist and he is throwing you figure on the bed, his smile only growing wider at the high-pitched scream that comes out of your mouth with the action.

his lips find your neck, leaving warm, slow kisses as his forehead touches the side of your head. you feel his hair on your fingers, and you remind yourself mentally just how much you love this hair length on him. this hair, him in a tuxedo.

you are sure you look like a fool with the face you're making as he places your on top of his body, hands holding your waist and eyes glued to yours.

"i will do everything i can to have that."

and you will to.

you promise him you will.

you will. he will. you will.

#jung hoseok #he is SO #he will probably marry someone and be like yeah that my husband/wifey over there #jeong hoseok #hobi #hobi imagine #jung hoseok imagine #jung hoseok established relationship au #jung hoseok bts imagine #bts imagine #jhope #jhope imagine #MISS HIM BAD AND ITS ONLY BEEN 3 MONTHS

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Big Bad Wolf 6

In which Jungkook can't help but be jealous over your obliviousness.

Tags/Warnings: wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Idol!Jungkook, Bear hybrid!Namjoon, Tiger hybrid!Taehyung, Cat hybrid!Yoongi, Human!Seokjin, Human!Hoseok, Cat hybrid!Jimin, bunny hybrid!Reader, very easily scared reader, stereotypes, jk has a crush on bunny, Technical staff!Reader

Additional Chapter Warnings: jello kook, cuteness overload, I had to

Chapter Length: short

<- Previous | Next ->

One of the things Jungkook loves about you, is the fact that you're always willing to help.

But right now, it's also the thing he hates the most- because why the hell do you help Namjoon pull apart the perilla leaves when there's five other guys sitting around, able to do that instead?

You didn't even glance in his own direction, instead offering to help the struggling rapper right away. He's an adult, he can do it on his own- and yeah, he himself is one too, but that's different. You've confessed to one another, you've begun texting daily whenever you didn't get to talk much in person, you've agreed to try out building a relationship- you should focus on him, not his bandleader.

Suddenly it's not enough any longer that you sit next to him, your sides pressed against each other. You feel too far away, out of his reach, and he hates it. He hates that on the other side of you there's jimin, and the chance of him being faster at noticing if you needed help with your food before he could was way too high to ignore.

He can't let this continue.

He's still careful not to startle you- and the knowing and amused looks of his bandmates run straight past him, as he maneuvers you to sit on his lap instead. Your questioning gaze is answered by a simple smile of his, innocently so, and instead of talking, he simply puts a ricecake into your mouth, shutting you up for a moment so he can escape the embarrassment for now.

You surprisingly seem right at ease where you are though.

It amazes him as he slowly notices the way you even seem to become bolder now that he's got you this close; actively participating in conversation, shy attitude a lot less present. It fills him up with pride, a warm and funny feeling spreading throughout him as he realizes it's his presence that does this to you.

You feel safe with him.

And he's convinced his heart is going to just melt into a puddle when he notices the way you lean into him, ryes closed as you decide to take a nap right here in his arms, uncaring of the others being present or able to watch. It makes his instincts flare up, his eyes and ears now on high alert as he has to make sure you're safe and won't be disturbed in your rest.

And the rest of the guys can only laugh to themselves, glad that you've finally found one another.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid!jungkook #hybrid imagine #hybrid au #hybrid reader #Big bad wolf au

[farfromsugafanfic]

Dangerous | p.jm Masterlist

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Bad Boy!Jimin, Bartender!Reader College AU

Pairing: Jimin/Named Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual assault (not perpetuated by Jimin or a BTS member), a drugged drink, adult language, sexual themes, masturbation, smut, more warnings before each chapter

Synopsis: Park Jimin doesn't fuck good girls.

He made that clear when he humiliated you when you were sixteen. Since then, you've sworn to get revenge on Park Jimin one day.

Now, you're both in college. You're no longer a good girl and Park Jimin just walked into the club.

Looks like today is the day.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Note: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad. I am now working on crossposting it to Tumblr. Thanks for reading.

#fanfiction #fanfic #farfromsuga #fan fiction #bts #bts fan fiction #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #btsfanfic #originally posted on wattpad #jimin fan fic #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #Jimin smut #jimin fan fiction #bts college au #bad boy jimin #park jimin #park jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #Jimin angst #crossposting #jimin #pjm fanfic

[yoon-kooks]

how many | jjk | 5

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 4.7k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: no smut in this one;;;;;;

◆ the one he drew for you ◆

Thank god for midterm week. For an art major like yourself, the usual midterm exams are replaced with art projects that you don’t really need to worry about. This actually allows you to squeeze in more tattoo appointments than usual throughout the week.

While you’re busy in the studio, your super hot smartypants boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, is busy studying for all of his comp sci exams that you know he’ll ace. The timing is a little too convenient, but you’re just happy you don’t have to make up any excuses for why you’re too busy to hang out with him this week. 

It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with your new boyfriend—in fact, for the past 120 hours, you’ve been yearning for his smile, his touch. You just need to focus and power through all of your appointments now so that you can make time for him this weekend. Because this is the weekend where Jungkook learns that you and his favorite tattoo artist are the same person.

You’ve even been dropping subtle hints throughout the week to see if he can put two and two together.

Y/N🍑 [MON 11:13PM] “so i may or may not be planning a surprise😈”

Jungkook🦆 [11:14PM] “It’s not gonna be a surprise if you give me a heads up, silly”

Y/N🍑 [11:14PM] “i could give you a million hints and youd still be surprised”

Jungkook🦆 [11:14PM] “👁👄👁”

Jungkook🦆 [11:15PM] “What are you up to?”

Y/N🍑 [11:16PM] “nothing!👼”

During class on Tuesday, he bribes you with coffee in exchange for more information about this “surprise.” He knows you can’t say no to caffeine in the morning.

Snatching the hot cup of coffee out of his hand, you offer him a single hint. “Try searching through the lizard tag on Instagram.”

“You’re such a dork for lizards, you know that?” He pulls his phone out and scrolls through the many charming reptiles on social media. He swipes past all the chameleons and leopard geckos until his thumb pauses at the sight of a happy little bearded dragon. “Okay, I’ll admit that one’s really fucking adorable.”

You nod and point out a baby albino alligator. “This one’s cute too, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles. “Wait, is this part of your evil plan to get me to like lizards? Are you trying to start a lizard family with me?”

“No, no, I promise I’m not surprising you with a new lizard friend,” you assure him. As much as you adore lizards, you shudder at the thought of feeding them live insects.

“Then why are we looking at all these little guys?” Based on his bright smile, he’s clearly not against your lizard agenda. 

“Remember when I mentioned the lizard tattoo?” you ask.

“The one you supposedly had an appointment for on the day we went to the duck pond?” Jungkook tilts his head. Then he furrows his brow. “I thought you were just fucking with me. Did you actually get it?”

You shake your head with the smuggest smile. “No, but it’s probably the biggest hint you’re going to get.”

The albino gator you pointed out earlier was the exact photo you used as a reference for that tattoo design—the one you tattooed onto a man’s calf shortly after your first kiss with Jeon Jungkook. You posted the final product on @snowsleeve’s IG just a few days ago, so there’s a good chance the boy has already seen it.

Unfortunately, Jungkook doesn’t quite make the connection.

“Then… Are you planning on getting it?” He taps the back of your hand holding the coffee cup. Even the smallest amount of physical contact between you and him is enough to give you butterflies. “Because a tiny lizard would look cute on you.”

If you weren’t in the middle of class, you’d hop out of your seat and into his lap. Instead, you lean in closer toward his side of the table and settle for something flirty.

“I’m sure you’d look cute on me, too, Jeon.”

On Wednesday, Jungkook takes a break from studying to work on the next art project assigned by your professor. The two of you claim an empty studio in the art building and get to work.

For the assignment, your professor keeps it simple with few directions. All you need to do is pick an artist with a unique style and replicate that style in a drawing of “whatever your heart desires.” To put in the least amount of effort into this project, you go with the artist you know best—snowsleeve.

When you turn to Jungkook, he’s doing what appears to be intense research.

“Should I go with Murakami or Naoko Takeuchi?” he asks. You could easily see him replicating the work of Murakami, known for his bright and bold pops of color. You haven’t seen Jungkook use much color in his art so far, but you know he’d at least have fun with it.

“You can’t go wrong with Murakami,” you shrug. “I don’t know who Naoko Takeuchi is, though.”

Jungkook holds out his phone with Sailor Moon’s squad gracing the screen. “Oh, she’s one of the lesser known manga artists out there. Guess that’s why you’ve never heard of her.”

“Fucking smartass.” Your glare lasts about three seconds before you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss. You’ve been deprived of that hot sensation against his lips for far too long, and the taste is divine. “But now that you mention it, I’m actually curious to see what you can create in the iconic Sailor Moon style.”

“Okay, that settles it. I know exactly what I’m going to draw.” The boy begins sketching an outline on his canvas with the most enthusiasm you’ve seen from him when it comes to schoolwork. He may not always show it, but Jungkook’s passion for art runs deep. And his desire to create isn’t all that different from your own. You just watch him in awe until you remember you have your own piece to work on.

The second the tip of your pencil hits your canvas, Jungkook looks over, curious about what you might be drawing.

“I’m going with body art that our good friend snowsleeve would design,” you say before he can even ask. You outline a masculine torso, strategically twisted and posed in a way to hide body parts that would otherwise need to be censored. You’re going to cover every inch of that torso in ink that would look so hot on a certain male friend of yours.

“Isn’t your style already pretty similar to hers?” He continues drawing, occasionally glancing back at panels from the Sailor Moon manga. “That wolf you drew on my hand the other day was definitely giving me snowsleeve vibes.”

“This project shouldn’t be too hard then,” you hum. At the very least, Jungkook isn’t oblivious to the similarities between the art you’ve shown him and snowsleeve’s tattoos. “The faster I finish this, the more time I can spend on preparing that surprise for you.”

“Oh? The surprise is something you need to prepare?” The tip of Jungkook’s pencil makes a hard stop against his canvas. You can see the wheels turning in his head. “Are you sure you aren’t setting up a huge lizard terrarium in my apartment?”

You burst out laughing. “I’m sure.”

“The lizard thing is throwing me off,” the boy groans, tossing his head back. The naughty side of you sees this vulnerable state as an invitation to climb on top of him and relieve some of his frustration. But you know Jungkook needs to finish this project today so that he can focus on the rest of his exams for the week. As much as it pains you, you have to control yourself. Thankfully, art is the perfect distraction.

When you’re satisfied with your snowsleeve-inspired piece, you lean back as Jungkook leans over you to check it out.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think snowsleeve drew this herself.” His eyes wander across the torso, from the playful fox rolling in grass to the dancing forest fairy to a familiar wolf wagging its tail like a good boy. With its long snout, the wolf nudges a carrot toward its bunny friend as a peace offering. Among the rest of the art that fills your page, it’s the wolf and bunny image that really stands out.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you say, turning your attention to Jungkook’s Sailor Moon-inspired work in progress. The beautiful heroine has your cozy vibe, your cute fashion sense, your lizards, and your personal superpower—art. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re drawing me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely you, Y/N.” His face is all smiles and crinkles as he reaches over to pinch your cheek. 

“No wonder why you were so passionate about it,” you tease. You look at the heroine again. He’s right. It’s definitely you. She radiates warmth and good vibes with her goofy grin and the fun little lizard drawings brought to life by her powers. It seems the boy will never let the lizard thing go, but you love that this is how he sees you. 

Jungkook nods. “I’ve realized art is a lot more enjoyable when I’m creating it with someone else in mind.”

You couldn’t agree more. The pure happiness that reflects in the eyes of your clients after their appointment is what makes it all worth it for you as a tattoo artist. Because you’ve created something personal that they can always look back on and feel some type of way about.

“That’s a good mindset for a future tattoo artist.” Your finger runs along the outline of every tattoo on his hand. He watches patiently and flips his palm up as soon as you’ve traced them all. He’s clearly asking for more of your touch. You quickly draw an imaginary smiley face on his palm before slipping his pen back into his grip. The two of you can save the handholding for this weekend.

Jungkook pouts, giving you a chance to reconsider the physical contact before continuing on with the project. Shortly after, he pokes his head up from the canvas with a sudden request. “By the way, can you give me another hint about that surprise?”

You tap the torso covered in snowsleeve’s art. “This is a pretty big clue.”

“I like my theory of you getting a tattoo,” he says with a thoughtful gaze. “But it couldn’t be that simple, could it?”

Thursday isn’t as exciting as Wednesday because you don’t have the luxury of seeing your boyfriend in person. Instead, you’re stuck in your studio from sunrise to sundown while Jungkook crams for his final and most important midterm. 

After your last appointment of the night, a mischievous idea comes to mind so you decide to stick around a bit longer. First your sweater comes off, followed by your strappy bralette. You lay the client chair horizontally and hop onto it.

With one hand just barely covering both your nipples and the other holding your phone up, you snap a series of not-so-innocent photos of your bare skin against the black leather. The best pic is one where your expression is more sultry than angelic, and there’s also enough shit in the background to serve as a clue to your whereabouts.

Along with the faux nude, you send Jungkook a few messages. Hopefully, you won’t be too big of a distraction from his studies.

Y/N🍑 [8:56PM] “this is the last hint im giving you, jeon👼”

Jungkook🦆 [8:56PM] “Your boyfriend is very lucky”

Jungkook🦆 [8:56PM] “omw”

Jungkook🦆 [8:58PM] “Wait”

Jungkook🦆 [8:59PM] “Is that a tattoo place?”

Jungkook🦆 [8:59PM] “You’re actually getting one huh”

Jungkook🦆 [9:00PM] “Show me?🥺”

Y/N🍑 [9:01PM] “dont you have an exam to study for?”

Jungkook🦆 [9:02PM] “Y/N please I can’t focus on studying after seeing you like that”

Y/N🍑 [9:05PM] “good luck on your exam!👼💖💖💖”

Thankfully, your naughty photo only costs Jungkook two points on Friday’s exam, and he still manages to score the highest among his peers. To celebrate the end of a busy midterm week, you send him an official invitation to the unofficial Bring Your Boyfriend to Work Day at your studio on Saturday—the same day as his appointment with snowsleeve.

“Is Bring Your Boyfriend To Work Day a real thing?” Jungkook shoots you a skeptical look as the two of you stroll down the streets of the art district. He’s been cautious all morning. Probably due to the big surprise you won’t shut up about.

“We’re making it a real thing,” you say. “Aren’t you curious about the work I do outside of school?”

“I thought you said people just commission you for your art?”

“...Yeah.” Your voice has that but-there’s-more-to-the-story tone.

“Y/N, you’re killing me.” The boy places two hands on your shoulders and gives you a little shake in mild frustration. Eventually, though, his arms fall into a warm embrace around your waist.

On instinct, you spin around to face him. He still has dark circles from all those late nights of studying, but that doesn’t make him any less cute. With a big fat smile, you hook your arm around his and say, “The surprise will be worth it. I promise.”

“I know it will.” Jungkook lets out a dramatic sigh as you drag him along and into your studio. 

It’s a cloudy Saturday morning. The studio is quite dark, but you make the executive decision to keep the cream curtains closed and the lights off for dramatic effect. But despite all the tattoo equipment staring him in the face as soon as he walks in, your boyfriend doesn’t look half as surprised as you’d anticipated. Either he’s known all along, or he’s just pretending to know.

With your arm still around his, you give him a rambling tour of the small space. “Here’s my art wall, this is fancy equipment that no one cares about, that’s the futon for when I need a nap, the back wall has some cute pictures… oh, and I have an espresso station set up in that corner. I’m learning how to make latte art.”

“Latte art makes a little too much sense for an artist who thrives on caffeine.” Jungkook grins. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that this is your second home. Your boyfriend takes the lead and sits you down in a familiar leather chair. He shamelessly stares at you through the camera lens formed by his thumbs and index fingers. “And this is the infamous chair you took that naughty photo in?”

“Maybe.” You glance up at him with the same inviting eyes from that photo. You rarely sit in the client’s seat, and the shift in power is painfully obvious. In this studio, you’re usually the one in control, the one leaving your mark on someone else’s skin. But now, Jungkook stands over you with nowhere to hide. You’ve never felt so vulnerable in your own studio. And if he wanted to, he could really mess you up.

He presses his weight against the armrests and leans himself over your body. His lips find yours and smother them with an endless wave of fervor and affection. For a long while, you forget the entire point of the outing. Nothing else matters aside from this intimacy between you and the boy you adore. You feel like you’re in a dream, the kind you never want to wake up from.

Jungkook eventually pulls back to let you breathe but holds your gaze with a subtle smirk. “I think it’s almost time for my appointment, Miss Snowsleeve.”

You study his face quietly for just a moment. There’s not a shadow of doubt to be found. His confidence is so fucking attractive.

“How long have you known?” you ask.

“In my mind, it wasn’t confirmed until today, but I’ve been considering the possibility since that night at the pool.” The boy watches as you get up to finally turn the lights on. On your way back around, you gesture for him to follow you to the back. “Did you know you and snowsleeve have the same exact texting style? Exclusively lowercase.”

“That was the dead giveaway for you?” You encourage him to take a look at the collection of photos hanging on the back wall.

“It couldn’t have possibly been the glaring similarities in your art,” Jungkook says with sarcasm.  He examines the polaroids of your favorite tattoos on some of your favorite people—fellow artists like Amber and Zico, celebrities like Park Jimin and Min Yoongi, and regulars who’ve supported you since the beginning. Even Seokjin has a place on your wall with a serpentine ankle tattoo that he rarely shows off outside of your apartment. Your boyfriend points to the pic of you and Amber and adds, “Couldn’t have been your extensive knowledge of local tattoo artists, either.”

“Definitely not,” you play along.

“And the more I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t a coincidence that the snowsleeve stalked my IG and liked one of my posts on that first day of art class.”

“Hey, first of all, I wasn’t IG stalking you.” You were totally IG stalking him, and both of you know it. “And second, I guess your attention to detail isn’t that bad after all.”

“It’s kind of hard not to notice the quirky little things about you.” Jungkook’s eyes pan from you, to the wall of polaroids, and to the art you’ve poured your heart and soul into. “Is there a reason why you choose to keep this all a secret?”

You nod. It was a conscious decision to keep your art detached from your name and face. Sure, it’d become less and less of a secret as your list of clients grew, but you just wanted to prove something to yourself.

“I’ve relied on my art for most of my life. It’s always been my ice breaker, my security blanket, my escape, and it’s become the only thing I’m known for.” 

You think about how in every class and every friend group, you were labeled “the quiet one who was good at art.” Everyone would make small talk with you about art galleries, awards you’ve won for your art, and Pablo freaking Picasso. Your 9th grade math teacher even tasked you with decorating her classroom in geometric art. No one ever talked to you about your favorite reptiles or your love of pineapple pizza. Because what else did anyone know about you aside from art?

“I only know you as the number one lizard enthusiast in the world,” Jungkook jokes. His down-to-earth smile is both contagious and comforting. “I get where you’re coming from, though.”

“It’s not all that different from you and your two Instagram accounts. One is for here,” you say, poking the charming dimple on his cheek. “And the other is for here.” You interlace your fingers with his tattooed ones and hold his drawing hand up. You aren’t the only one who wishes to separate themself from their art—perhaps for opposite reasons.

You want to be seen as more than just your art, just as Jungkook wants to be seen as more than his pretty face.

“Yeah,” he says softly as he threads his free hand through his hair. “By the way, I’m sorry I spoiled the big reveal.”

You shake your head. “In all honesty, I preferred you to figure it out on your own.” In an instant, your grin goes from angelic to devilish. “And besides, I have one more surprise for you.”

“Why are you smiling like that? Should I be scared?” The boy spins around and frantically checks every corner of the studio. He searches high for hidden cameras, low for booby traps, and all around for possible lizard friends. You can’t help but laugh. You’re dating a complete goofball.

“Relax, it’s behind the espresso machine.” You pull him over toward the nutty aroma of roasted coffee beans. With a straight face, you add, “Try to be quiet, or else it’ll lash out at you.”

Jungkook does a good job of staying silent, although his wide-eyed expression speaks volumes. If you had to guess, he’s probably thinking something along the lines of, “I fucking knew it. It’s a fucking snake. This is what I get for dating that adorable reptile-loving dork.”

“I’m just fucking with you, Jeon.” Despite your evil cackle, the boy lets out a sigh of relief. “It’s not something nearly as exciting as a bearded dragon.”

“What is it then?” He tries to peek over your shoulder, but the object in question is already tucked away in your hands behind your back.

You gesture for his hand, and never once has he hesitated to give it to you. After placing the small metal object in his palm, you fold his fingers around it. “Take a look.”

Jungkook unfolds his fingers and finds a shiny key.

“You’re giving me full studio access?” He definitely wasn’t expecting this one.

“You can come in anytime to practice or borrow equipment or—”

“Or make myself a vanilla latte?”

“Exactly.” You plop yourself back into the leather chair and catch the boy by his wrist. He stumbles forward with the momentum and nearly falls on top of you. “You can even do the honors of giving snowsleeve her second tattoo.”

You flex your fingers, drawing attention to the outer edge of your hand. If you want to start small, a hand tattoo sounds appropriate. And besides, you find all of Jungkook’s tiny hand tattoos so dang charming, and that may or may not be what’s inspired you. When clients ask you about it, you can tell them the story.

“I know you’re in high demand, but is there any chance I can get an appointment with you today?” you ask innocently, ignoring the fact that you’re supposed to be having a consultation about Jungkook’s next tattoo. But that can wait a little longer.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckles at your aggressive puppy eyes. If you could be an emoji, you’d be an angry one with puppy dog eyes and hearts. “But I suppose I can squeeze you in right now since you’re so fucking cute.”

You use this opportunity to give Jungkook a step-by-step tutorial on a proper tattoo setup. You show him your signature plastic wrapping technique, give him a rundown of your favorite machines, and share everything else with him that’s become second nature to you.

“So are we actually doing this?” he asks after a few practice doodles on fake skin with your favorite pen for lining. His lines are smooth, his hand is steady, and the depth looks about right.

“I’m in if you are.” You sit curled up in the leather chair, doing your best to mask the nerves building up inside your chest. The last thing you want is for your own uneasiness to rub off on a boy who has yet to tattoo an actual human being. “We can do something small and simple, just so you can get the feel of digging into real skin.”

“Bet.” Jungkook gives you a confident nod. “Any special requests?”

You point to the side of your hand, just below your pinky. “Something cute that you can freehand? Like a bunny fairy?”

“The biggest surprise of the day is that you don’t want a lizard.” He rolls in on your stool, takes your hand, and draws out exactly what you ask for. And it’s super wholesome. He leans back to get a glimpse of your reaction. “Good?”

“The best.” You can’t take your eyes off the floppy ears, the delicate wings, and the cute little heart nose. The love you feel for the boy and his art is starting to eat away at your nerves. You better keep yourself in check. Otherwise, you might do something too bold or reckless. Because that’s how safe you feel when you’re with Jungkook.

After making the switch from marker to machine, a few butterflies come fluttering back, but you’d like to believe you’ve still got a good poker face. In one hand, he wields the buzzing machine that seems a whole lot more intimidating when you aren’t the one gripping it. He slides his other hand beneath yours, against the plastic-wrapped armrest. Maybe he won’t feel the jitters vibrating through your body.

His gloved hand feels more like a fuzzy blanket keeping you warm on a gloomy rainy day. A boyfriend could say a lot of things to put his partner at ease in this situation. He might say, “It’s okay,” or “Let me know if the pain gets to be too much,” or even, “You don’t have to force yourself. I’d love you with or without this tattoo.”

Jungkook isn’t that boyfriend, though. He doesn’t need to speak into existence what you already know. He has his own way of doing things.

“Do you remember that first day in art class? When I drew that other bunny for you?” He holds your gaze for a moment. The buzzing fades into the background, and you feel the muscles in your hand loosening up. “I held your hand just like this.”

Of course you remember. No boy has ever made you feel so comforted by a single touch. That day, you were so happy. And for the first time in a while, you felt excited for the days to come. It marked the beginning of something precious with no end in sight.

You nod, prompting him to continue on with his storytime. He gives you one last squeeze before retracting his hand so that his canvas is resting on a flat surface.

“I still think about that day a lot, you know.” His voice is soft, yet everything comes out so clear above the humming. How can a boy like him be so sweet? It still blows your mind that you had this bad boy image of him when he first entered the classroom that day. 

“Me too.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’re smiling. “Little did I know, that bad boy with the tattoos would turn out to be the biggest dork and sweetheart ever.”

“FYI, you’re the only person who’s allowed to call me a sweetheart.” The face he makes at you is a mix of a pout and him trying not to smile. Whatever it is, it serves as the perfect distraction for the needle hovering above your hand.

The first needle contact is more of a graze against your skin. He glances up for your reaction. You mouth, “A little deeper,” and he makes the adjustment several times. You don’t mind that he’s slowly easing both of you into it. He could spend a week chipping away at this simple tattoo, and you’d still love him.

When he finds the sweet spot in your skin, you stay quiet to let him focus. You want to praise him for how crisp and clean his lines are, and how pretty the bunny is turning out, but you bite your tongue and save it for the end.

“Anything else I should add in?” Once he's gone over every line, he sets the machine down and lets you admire the art he’s left on you. It’s tiny, adorable, and so so special to you. You don’t need anything else.

“It’s perfect.” You hop out of the seat and stretch, admiring your beautiful new ink in the studio lights. You’re glowing. From the stool, Jungkook lets out a healthy sigh, both exhausted and relieved to know his first attempt went as well as it did. You lean over, lift his chin, and steal a kiss. “Thank you, Jungkook,” you whisper into his mouth.

He kisses you again and licks his lips.

“So, are we still having my consultation?” His eyes wander across your body, from the tattoo he gave you to wherever that other tattoo might be hiding. Something tells you he wouldn’t be against rescheduling the consultation. “If not, you can come over and play with the cat.”

#bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts bad boy au #jungkook tattoo #jungkook #bts

[chocominnie]

Redemption  04 — JJK. (M)

→: This is book two to my story Desperado. Read that one before continuing on to read this one.

→ pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

→ genre: Angst, smut , a bit of fluff

→ Word count: 4k

→ summary:  It’s been 4 years since everything that happened. If he could re-do everything he would, but cannot. With Won-Shik dead, and everyone’s back’s turned against him.. what can he do? You took a toll on him to the point where it’s hard to function without you and everyone’s concerned. Another gang has entered their teritory and is giving them a run for their money. The heir to the mafia thrown is now in charge with everyone waiting for his first big move. Yet, how can someone so broken inside take care of business though?

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak. Drug dependency, drug mentions, high angst, mental illness, depression, anxiety, assault, gore, guns, usage of weapons, daddy kink, bigdick!jk, hair pulling, soft sex, rough sex, squirting, mouth fucking, overstimulation, consensual drunk/tipsy sex, protected & unprotected sex. I may be forgetting some so sorry in advance!

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken.

As if the raging headache you woke up with wasn't enough, the lucid dreaming you had last night, due to the consumptions of so much alcohol, was just enough to send you over the edge once you’ve awaken. The sun blares through your window onto your face making your eyes strain and a single hand coming over to cover it. Slipping out a small groan of annoyance, you gradually pick yourself up to sit up correctly onto the bed. 

Last night was a lot for you to remember, but you sure as hell remember some of it. What you don’t remember is you asking Sungmin to stay the night with you. So to your surprise when you open your bedroom door, a shirtless Sungmin is up and moving around your kitchen. There he is with a single chest tattoo and muscles you never thought he would have. His biceps strong, and his abs are evident along with his v-line protruding out. You hadn't noticed his freshly tattoo’d left arm last night but in your defense he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt. You watch him whisk whatever is in that bowl with determination and the faint sound of a youtube video can be heard playing in the background.

The way his arms flex when he whisks, and his hair tied up messily into a small but decent sized bun with some stray strands of hair here and there, he looks way too good. That jawline of his flexes consistently, especially when he softly bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows. When he doesn’t understand something said from the youtube video, he reaches to play it back again. It’s as if he’s doing it on purpose because maybe, he knows you’re peeking from behind your door.

Nonsense. If he saw you he would have greeted you... right? You’re too caught up in your thoughts and dazed off to realize he has looked in your direction with amusement to see you peeking around like a lost puppy. It’s adorable. He doesn’t say anything though, Sungmin smirks to himself and continues to pour some sort of batter into a pan. 

He looks way too sexy doing that too.

Ultimately you decide to close the door because for whatever reason, blaming the liquor from last night, that familiar throbbing down in your region begins. You mentally curse yourself for getting all worked up over absolutely nothing but a man cooking. That man being Sungmin.. who’s cooking. Sungmin, the one you never wanted to persue things with because back then you felt guilty for liking two boys at once and he deserved someone better than you.

But that was back then.. and this is now.

Now, he’s in your home cooking you breakfast shirtless and he knows exactly what he’s doing because he did in fact see you. He saw you from the very beginning. Hell, he saw you last night when you were very much so drunk and started stripping and giggling in-front of him. Of course he didn't let you get far because when you started pulling off your pajama shirt is when he pulled it back down and dragged you to your room. You laid there sprawled on your bed giggling yourself to sleep. Needless to say, Sungmin did sleep on the couch to prevent another encounter from happening between you two. 

You can’t blame yourself though, Sungmin has turned into a fine man. As a woman yourself, it can’t be helped to have these lewd thoughts after witnessing a god himself in your kitchen preparing for you.. right? You hadn’t noticed you did not close the door fully, so when you bring your hand down to the hem of. your pajama pants and underwear, that breathy shadow peeps down at you. 

You hadn’t heard him come inside because you're too busy trying to inspect the wet mess you’d made inside your panties. That is, until that familiar voice speaks up once more, making you jolt.

“ Breakfast is ready.” He cheekily says, chuckling when he turns around to make his way out of the room.  The cold wall meets your head and you bang it several times softly out of embarrassment. Him catching you in the act was the least thing you need right now.

Tip-toeing out of your bedroom, you peak around the corner to your dining room table to see everything laid out perfectly. Cloud pancakes, fruit assortment, orange juice. He'd made your plate for you, the fruit sits onto of your pancake with a smiley face and whipped cream smile. It makes you giggle at the thought of Sungmin, a grown man, still having his childish ways.

“ Care to join me before it gets cold?”

Biting your lip, you can’t help but to still be flustered from getting caught. “ I can eat at the island counter..” You say, to avoid any further awkwardness between the two of you. 

Sungmin smiles, “ I missed that. You’re still adorable when shy. Listen I’ll forget about what I saw if I can have the honors of catching up with you, properly.”

Sounds like a deal to you. 

“ So you went back to...” Sungmin pauses before sticking some fruit in his mouth, waiting for you to finish. “ Canada. Then to NYU where I’m currently studying and doing the exchange program here.” 

He nods in amusement, eyes still watching you like a hawk to make sure you eat. “ Well, we completed highschool. I had transferred schools in high school to finish up while the rest of them stayed. College came along and nobody was close anymore, to be honest. Crystal does this candle light thing for you each year and that's when everyone comes together as a whole, except for Jungkook.”

You nearly choke on your pancake amongst swallowing it. Jungkook not coming to your candle-light? That one hurt. “ W-why doesn’t he come?”

Sungmin shakes his head lightly, grabbing the orange juice pitcher and pouring the sweet, citrus fruit juice into your glass cup. “ We beg him and he doesn’t want to each year. He’s... really fucked up about you. Heavier on the drugs and just stays in his office all day.”

“ And the kid?” You have to keep mentally remind yourself that she’s actually Jungkook’s sister and not daughter. You’d never imagine Jungkook being an older brother, hell even just a brother to begin with. 

“ Jeon Naeun , or Nari is what we call her. She’s 4 years old and gives him a run for our money, especially his. “ Sungmin chuckles, finishing up the last of his pancake. You take a sip of the juice and can’t help but to smile at that comment.

“ The two are inseparable. She’s the mini version of him but instead of being cold hearted she has now mastered the toddler manipulation by using her cuteness.”

Imagining Jungkook being a care-giver for his little sister only leads you to think of what kind of father he would be. Again, you’d never expect for him to even want a child but the thought of a big boss mafia man having a weakness for children is amusing to you. 

Yet Sungmin sits right infront of you and he can’t get enough of you. The way you smile, the way you talk, the sound of your voice, it’s all so nostalgic for him. Meeting you in high school was the highlight of his life back then. Now to have you, not dead, and cooking breakfast for you in your own apartment has him thinking things. Things about how he doesn’t want to lose you ever again, but he also understands this can be a lot for you and not to rush things and push your boundaries.

Sungmin breaks the small silence, “ Can I.. Can I take you out today? You left for a while and I think that you should at least get familiar with Seoul again. Theres this new art museu-”

An abrupt sound of hard knocking at the door cuts him off. It makes the two of you jump but you weren’t expecting any guests today at all. The only person who knows your apartment is Sejun and Zico.. and you hope and pray its not either of them and just a random package delivery. By the look on your face, Sungmin gets the memo that you didn’t know who was at the door. Getting up from his chair, he furrows his eyebrows walking over as the knocking gets persistent. 

Your heart feels like it can pound right out of your chest right now. Quickly, you grab the empty plates and used dishes and dash over into the kitchen where you can’t be seen. What if it’s Jungkook? What if he’s actually found you? Your hands tremble while scrubbing the dishes in the sink, the thoughts of the worst case scenario swarms through your head to the point where you tune out everyone. 

You don’t even hear the arguing at the door and the multiple footsteps shuffling inside until someone comes within your view, waving their hand in your face to snap you out of your numbing trance. The calling of your name seems to slowly bring you back to reality. 

“ Yn! Yn!”

Once your vision clears back up to the person calling your name, your eyes go wide in fear like a dear in headlights. It can’t be. How.. did he know to come here? The apartment is listed under Sejun’s name due to this exact reason of hiding your identity. There’s no way he could of asked around for you in the lobby because you speak to nobody there and they certainly don’t know your name. So how?

 The cup in your hand shatters onto the floor creating a glass breaking sound capturing everyone’s attention. Taking a look around your apartment, there’s Sungmin, another female, and that other male person with a concerned look on his face. Your throat gets that familiar sore lump in it, the one where you know you’ll cry any second but you can’t. Not in-front of them. 

You quickly crouch down onto the floor and begin picking up the glass pieces with your bare hands, sniffling to stop the stray tears from falling. “ Be careful, let me get it-”

“ No!” You push the hand away from you but in the process knick your finger against a stray shard of glass sticking up on the floor. You wince, harshly pulling your finger away and inspecting it. The blood seeps out rather quick but not life threatening. 

Sungming scoffs, “ I think you guys should leave.” He says, jogging over the kitchen sink, carefully avoiding the glass, to grab a wet paper towel to wrap your finger in.

You wanted nothing to do with anyone in this very exact moment. You just want to be alone again, and maybe meeting Sungmin last night and having him stay was a mistake. Foolish of you right? To not think about the consequences of your actions. He’s Jungkook’s brother for fucks sake. What did you think would happen?

“ We can’t. Jungkook knows.” is the next sentence that Casper says that makes you want to throw up. Jungkook knows about your whereabouts. If it wasn’t for Sungmin holding you while wrapping your finger and pressing on it, you’d of surely passed out by now. 

Sungmin’s beyond pissed. The red on his face shows it and the way he curses under his breath only for you to hear. “ Tell him to stay the fuck away from her, Casper.” He growls. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh and the woman next to him rubs his back to calm him down as well. You take notice of the dark red lipstick she wears upon her lips. Such a bold color. “ Knowing Jungkook, he won't stop. What she needs to do is pack up and go.. like yesterday.”

“ I’m sorry but who the fuck are you?” You narrow your eyes at the lady, getting up from Sungmin’s grip on you. She’s taken aback by your sudden dominance in your voice, but smirks knowing that you aren’t bold enough to take that any further. 

“ Val.. Casper’s wife and you must be the infamous Yn.” 

You’re not sure of this lady, and something about her makes you wonder. Since when has Casper been married? Casper also did not seem like the type to take a hand in marriage for someone. This is all too.. weird for you. Everyone seems to just had grown up and matured and you did miss it all. 

“ Can we discuss all this.. perhaps in the living room area?” She asks, pointing in the direction of your cutely decorated space. Uneasy but curious, you nod your  head slowly in approval. 

Once everyone has gathered on your grey “L” shaped couch, you made sure to sit closely next to Sungmin who puts his arm around you in support. Ironically he's the only one you trust and feel a bit more comfortable with. The last thing you wanted was a reunion.. let alone in your very own living room. 

“ So.. Yn.. you were supposed to stay as far away as humanly possible from Seoul. I thought we made a deal that you’d never come back as long as I provided for you financially for the remainder of your life.” Casper’s death gaze upon you would have killed you right now if looks could kill. 

“ She has every right to live the life she wants after what you and my brother did to her.” Sungmin fires back at him, the look of anger on his face only getting stronger. 

Throwing his head back and letting out a deep sigh, Casper is not surprised by his comment. “ Oh shut up Sungmin, you know it would’ve been best for her if she stayed put.” He shoots you another glare, “  Looks like the dead doesn’t rest after all huh.”

You had no words because it is true. You and your parents had made that deal with Casper, but that was four years ago and you're absolutely grown enough to make your own decisions without your parents input. 

“ I.. wanted to do the exchange program and I honestly don’t even look the same anymore. I had a few surgeries and thought if I stayed low-key.. I could graduate and go on with my life.” Which only part of that is true. Yes you had a few surgeries that made you look slightly different and not to mention the hair color change, but you can’t let them know the real reason you came back.

That’s going to ruin your plans. 

“ Yeah and how is that working out for you now hmm?” Casper’s not pleased with your dumb response. A deal is a deal and you broke the deal. “ I don’t need your money Casper. If you want it all back I’ll repay my debt but I am allowed to live my life freely!”

Casper lets out one of his sarcastic chuckles, “ Repay your debt? You were never indebted to me or any of the Jeons. I wanted you to live comfortable as possible. Keep the money. Go back to Canada.”

“ No.” It would be a waste of everything if you’d just up and left now. Besides, this is the first time you’ve been in the presence of someone you like. Back home in Canada you did make friends but only till you moved to NYC and you didn’t make much long-term ones there either.

“ Doll, you don’t understand how much Jungkook is really attached to you. He has multiple paintings of you, has kept your pictures, currently working on a sculpture of your face, and still has nightmares about you. He needs professional help and you being here isn’t really the best time to enter his life again, if that’s what you plan to do.”

Sculptures? Paintings? That’s a bit much.  You understand the kept pictures part but the rest does seem very drastic. You’ve never had someone that overly obsessed with you before. Your last boyfriend from Canada, before you had originally moved to Seoul, had only gotten professional portraits of you and him. Courtesy of his mother, it was only because you two had went to junior prom together. You two were just teenagers being teenagers. As for you and Jungkook, you two were just lost in lust and not knowing what you two were doing but just...doing it. 

You're an adult now, and independent one at that. So whatever you want to do, you can do it.

“ I’m staying here.” Your voice is firm enough to where they know that's your final decision. Sungmin squeezes your arm a bit, reassuring you and sticking right beside you. 

Casper lets out a deep sigh once again. He knew you were stubborn but thought you would have been past this phase. Its no use of arguing with you. Your consequences have actions and he did try to warn you. It’s above him now and since you want to make wrong decisions, this time he’ll let you. You reap what you sow. 

His tattoo’d hand rub’s his forehead in annoyance of your persistant answers. He’s tried his best and can’t do anymore. “ Fine. Just know, I tried to warn you.”

The silence and tension in the room could be cut like thick slice of cake. You’re content with your decision and can’t seem to understand why they think you can’t handle yourself by yourself. Casper stands up along with Val, the two look at you disappointed but sorry for you. Maybe they are right on this, maybe you didn't think it through.

“ Well, are you at least going to attend the reunion? The group... should know you’re alive if you want to continue living freely.” Casper holds his two fingers making quotation marks around the last two words. You roll your eyes at his remark.

“ Reunion?” You turn to Sungmin who’s currently escorting Casper and Val out the door. You didn’t expect for him to shoo them out so quickly but he says his goodbyes and the door finally closes. That beep sound gives you a wave of relief over your body knowing your home is now secured and locked. The anxiety that had once settled in you can be felt going away.

Leaning against the door, “ I wasn't going to go. I don’t really talk to anyone but my sister. I wanted to take you out because I wasn’t going to attend. The group was personally invited to attend, we got our invitations 3 weeks ago.”

“ Your parents still own that school?” From what you remember, Sungmin’s parents were the one that chose you and gave you the scholarship to attend that high school. 

He nods his head and deeply sighs once more, “ Unfortunately, yes. I dislike saying this but they covered up your death and Jungkook’s ass pretty well. To them and our class, Jungkook was also the victim as disgusting as it is. My parents couldn’t afford to lose their perfectly clean reputation, as you know they are also in the limelight as well.”

Of course. Jungkook being painted as the victim when you’re the actual victim yourself. It’s predictable at this point and he probably ran with that narrative until after he’d graduated and everyone moved on. 

“ Listen.. you don’t have to go. I really wasn-” “ I’ll go. It’s better they know im alive. I can’t keep faking my identity and pretending to be dead while im here. I just.. want nothing to do with Jungkook.” 

A lie. This is the perfect opportunity to lure Jungkook in. 

It catches Sungmin off guard when you say that. The least he expected is for you to agree to go near the people who betrayed you.  He thinks It can potentially be mentally unhealthy for you but also facing your fears could do you a bit better. It’s a 50/50 chance but not exactly a win-win situation.

Sungmin tilts his head to the side resembling a confused small puppy which makes you smile a bit. “ Are you sure?” He questions, still in disbelief.

No. No you aren’t. 

“ Yes.”

The day had gone by pretty fast hanging around Sungmin. He went back home to change his clothes after your guises conversation and came back fashionably late to pick you up after cleaning yourself up as well. The two of you had a pretty big reasonable amount of fun and catching up. It turns out Sungmin had learned English abroad for a bit as he also did an exchange program in the US his junior year. He revealed to you that he lives in the Jeon Mansion with his mom and Jungkook. You were worried about that as well but, Sungmin reassured you that he wouldn’t tell a soul where you live and will act like you two only meet up at cafes. You made him swear on it and if he breaks that promise he’ll be blocked on snapchat.

Now here you two are, standing outside of the school at 6pm after a day of driving around and Sungmin showing you some worthy instagram picture cafes and shopping places. You had bought a few things, nothing too over the top. Some new shoes, a couple of clothing items, and a brand new watch because you had been meaning to get a new one since your old one broke.

“ You sure you wanna do this?”

The school looks the same to you. It floods back memories when you two begin walking into the entrance. That same entrance where the Bangtan Boys came in and Jungkook stopped you because you were in his way of walking. The first time you had laid eyes on each other and then realized you both hated each other.  It still smells the same, clean but sweet. The school is vacant except for a few adult people here and there who seem to pay you no mind at all.

With each step you take down the hallway, you’re reminded of the memories you made. The lockers where you’d meet up with Ayami and Sungmin, the bathroom you came out of and Jungkook waited outside for you, and upcoming is the art class. The sound of voices and laughing can be heard the closer you get. Perhaps some left-over students from school today? Sungmin movements become a bit slower, as if he doesn’t want to pass the classroom. 

“ We can go back and visit the music room? If you want.”

Now you’re curious as to why he won't pass the room. Surely it’s just some teens right? You shake your head no with furrowed eyebrows, butterflies settling inside your stomach.  Swallowing hard, you take one last step towards the entrance of the art room and your stomach almost drops at the sight you see. 

The room is beautiful, it really did have a make-over, but the people inside shock you the most. You didn’t expect them to be here right now. You expected them to be coming later on, not lounging around the art room. Most of all, you weren’t ready to see him in general. He stands there by the window, hair longer than you remembered, ripped jeans, doc Martens, a black shirt and leather jacket. When he sets eyes on you, he doesn’t freak out but he just looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. He understands that this moment is could break or make anything so he keeps his mouth closed while admiring that you’re really in-front of him. The rest stare at you with shock, as if they’ve really seen a ghost.

Crystal is the first to curse under her breath with wide eyes and a smile. She runs over to you with open arms and when you do connect with them physically, it feels weird to hug her back but she understands this is a lot to process. 

“ I knew it was you. I knew it was you when I saw you in Manhattan! Holy fuck you’re actually alive!” Her grip only gets harder, as if she could squeeze you to death like an orange till you burst. You watch Sungmin prop himself up on the desk and sit quietly. He feels awkward in all this, and now you feel bad.

“ So you faked your death. How does it feel to be selfish?” 

You knew that one was coming from him. Turning towards the voice, you decide not to fuel the fire this time. “ I’m sorry. I also did not have a choice given the circumstances..” 

The room falls silent. Jungkook, Namjoon, Crystal, Yoongi, Sungmin, and Ayami. They’re all here. All staring at you as you stare at the ground out of pity. Maybe this whole faking death thing was a bit far. Casper could have came up with a better idea than this. Your past was soon to catch up to you. 

“ I forgive you.” Crystal breaks the silence, smiling at you to make you feel somewhat better. “ So do I. I’m sorry for contributing into that situation as well. No words can express how deeply affected I am from it and I do hold myself accountable.” 

You’d like to accept his apology, you really do, but at this moment you cannot as the wounds still hurt. The traitor, Ayami sits in the corner of the room at a desk. Her arms crossed as she looks outside the window, barely paying you any mind. Although you dislike her presence as she did betray you, It hurts a lot to know she honestly doesn’t care about you. 

“ I’m not sorry. You don't know the damage that you’ve done to Jungkook do you?” Yoongi’s voice is stern yet pissed off. With every inch he gets closer to you, it makes you want to ball up and run away.

Until you two are inches apart from each-other and he lets it all out on you.

“ We had to deal with him for years of depression, anxiety, he doesn’t sleep, barely fucking eats, and our business is possibly ruined all because of you. We don’t have a fucking sane enough leader because you wanted to be selfish. We all thought you were dead. Fucking DEAD. You don’t just do shit like that! You could of just left Seoul quietly but to be that fucking dramatic? Come on. Everyone was affected by your drama scene and now you think you can magically just show up like things are okay? It's not.”

It can’t be helped that the tears are flowing from your eyes and the quiet sobs let themself out. You feel just as guilty as they are and it sucks because you’re the victim and they aren't.  Coming to this was wrong. Now at least they know you’re alive.

“ I.. should go. I just wanted to apologize for my actions.”

“ Wait, you don’t have to go yn.”

But it was too late. You quickly walk out the room as fast as you can while wiping the hot tears coming down your face. People in the hallway look at you funny but you keep your head down. That familiar feeling in your chest settles in. It hurts. It feels like your heart has broken into a million pieces. None of this was how you expected it to go however you weren’t even supposed to come anyways. 

By now your feet are tired of walking and each time you blink its blurry. This place looks familiar. The flowers align the trail along with some trees. The school’s little garden trail. Mascara runs down your face. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Being in front of everyone like that was a bold move and to have Yoongi yell at you was embarrassing as well. The pain in your chest feels like someone is stabbing you over and over in your heart. Your heartstrings feel like they can give out any second. At this point you didn’t care who sees you sobbing loudly. All you want is to take everything back about what you said and should have just agreed to stay home.

“ Yn?”

You ignore it. The sobbing becomes louder and your keep trying to wipe your swollen eyes to rid the tears. It doesn’t stop.

The person sighs, slowly inching closer. You know that scent all too well. It’s him. What is he even doing here anyways? Why did he think it was okay to follow you out here? Something touches your hand but you turn around to face him and jerk your hand away. He was offering you his handkerchief. You look at him with hatred in your eyes. This all feels too familiar.

Jungkook sighs, nodding his head slowly while retreating his hand. “ I’m sorry. I want to apologize to you in a million different ways but I understand that we’re broken. I broke you. I did those things to you. I take responsibility. No words can explain how badly I fucked up. If I can go back and change everything I would in a heartbeat and do everything correctly.”

You take a minute to analyze his face. You’ve never seen his soft side of Jungkook. The way his face tells it all, lets you know he is sincere. To know he’s also been suffering makes you feel even more guilty. You won't accept it though. He will never get an acceptance of any sort from you. 

“ I hate you.” You sniffle. 

“ I understand.”

“ No Jungkook, I really fucking hate you.”

Was all you said before grabbing his jacket to pull him down into a passionate kiss. The two of your tongues fight for dominance as his left hand goes to your waist and his right up to your face. He can’t help himself but to deepen the kiss. Your lips taste like pure honey to him and he wants to devour you right then and there and never let you go.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.. 

#Jungkook smut #Jungkook fanfic #Jungkook ff #Jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #Jungkook angst #Jungkook tattoos #Jungkook tattoo #mafia!jungkook #mafia jungkook #mafia bts #mafia!bts #bad boy jungkook #badboy!jungkook #Jungkook scenario #jungkook reaction #bts smut #bts mafia #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook piercing #jungkook oneshot #redemption

[97luvs]

just thinking about jungkooks thighs and how bad i want sit on them.

#him manspreading>>>> #it’s so seci #i want him so bad bruhh #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook photo folio #jungkook smut #jungkook nose #jungkook icons #bts

[husband]

Hi, im a beginner horror enjoyer and im really disturbed by a lot of gore but i wanna understand the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies bc ive heard theyre hugely influential on the genre (rightly so too)

I figured with all this id ask the foremost texas chainsaw scholar i am aware of

Could you tell me the basics, if its gross (im really bad at tolerating gross out horror and gore played realistic), and any fun tidbits?

If not i thank you for reading and hope you have a good day ^-^

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was hugely influential on the genre and set the standard for low budget horror and inspired future filmmakers to rely more on psychological terror over gore & violence! It was also seemingly the birth of a lot of horror tropes, like big, masked killers and using power tools for weapons.

Texas Chainsaw's story is inspired by serial killers like Ed Gein and Elmer Wayne Henley. The movie’s director, Tobe Hooper, was inspired by the graphic coverage of violence by San Antonio news outlets and based elements of the plot on murderer Ed Gein, who was a notorious serial killer who made furniture out of human body parts and created a mask made of human skin. The movie’s underlying themes are mostly the horrors of isolation, and the dangers of unchecked capitalism. The movie is also a metaphor for the Nixon-era mayhem and the government’s deceit toward the public during the 1970s. Hooper intentionally misled audiences by claiming that the movie was based on a true story to attract a wider audience.

I honestly don't know how to give you the basics aside from a plot synopsis because I would, hand to God, be sitting here for about 12 hours minimum going into every weird little detail, like the intricacies of bubba's mental issues and being forced to take on a female role for his abusive older brothers, or all the absolutely insane shit that happened during filming. And that'd just be me talking about the FIRST film.

But if you want to ask me more questions or see more Texas chainsaw related stuff you can ask/look over at my blog @chainsawhouse. I just hate to gum up my main blog with this particular interest.

Also, my fun tidbit is that they've recently confirmed that there is a new Texas Chainsaw Massacre in the works, under the title 'Texas Chainsaw Legacy'! Very fun imo.

#ask #tcm #i think most of the bad gore on my tcm blog is tagged under 'blood' but im sure ive let a couple bts pics fly under my radar by accident #i'm just so bad with words me trying to give you the basics would be a big mess of words #cause i mention one thing and have to go oh yeah sidenote. every other sentence #sorry i couldnt be more informative im honestly just trying to spare you #aside from the shots of dead bodies like the one at the start of the movie. along some dead animals and a lot of gross meat shots there isn #really actual gore that i remember... the big thing about the film was that they left the violence up to your imagination #by tactfully cutting away during the brutal scenes #its still an off putting film but i personally think if gore played realistically is what's turning you off from watching it you should be #good #youd want to avoid tcm2 though they do a lot of on screen gore for that movie. they had tom savini doing special effects