#even better if it’s a flower shop x tattoo parlour thing

[cynicalmusings]

thinking about tattoo artist!dan heng who has a huge, intricate tattoo of a chinese dragon snaking up his back, shoulders, and down his right arm. he’s known for his art style which resembles traditional ink paintings, covering both landscapes and figures in his work, as well as his aloof but patient personality and undeniably good looks.

you’re mutually connected through march, who’s both you and dan heng’s close friend, though you and dan heng have never really met or interacted before. when you express interest in getting a tattoo, she wastes no time recommending him (and before you can even say yes for certain, she’s already texted him with your design ideas and told him to expect you soon.) not long after, he gets in touch with you and you both go through some of his designs before settling on a final choice.

a few days later, march drags you to the tattoo parlour and introduces you to dan heng in person. (she mentioned he was attractive, but not how attractive. a red streak of eyeliner brings out the cool tones of his eyes, you can’t help but notice as he glances over at you, not unkindly.)

you have a brief discussion after march finishes the introductions, before he leads you to a chair. as you make yourself comfortable and he cleans the area of skin you’ll get the tattoo on, he asks if you’re nervous; a little sheepishly, you admit you are. he hums, and tells you not to be.

‘focus on your breathing,’ he instructs calmly when you wince at the first bite of the needle on your skin. to your credit, you do try, but find yourself focusing rather more on his instead, because you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans over the chosen area and gets to work. (you hope to god your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels.) he works silently, and the silence is only broken by the buzz of the needle.

once it’s done, he patches you up, telling you you did well for a first-timer. it’s really pathetic, you curse yourself, that you’re getting flushed over that one sentence, but you can’t stop. march grins you a ‘congratulations!’ and asks how the experience (and her good friend) was; her face takes on a knowing look when you glance for a moment too long back at dan heng, and before you know it, she’s pulling you both out for ice cream despite your protests under the claim that ‘this is a big occasion and should be celebrated’. once there, she conveniently reports that she forgot about a piece of work she needed to get done, and leaves the two of you alone. (unbeknownst to you, she’s actually hiding in a nearby bush and watching you closely.)

it’s very awkward at first, but you slowly get into a discussion which starts about march (poor her) until it branches into shared interests. who knew the icy ‘cold dragon young’, as his web page dubs him, was such a nerd—and a nerd who shares some of your own nerdy passions, too?

after you go your separate ways, march texts you and asks how it went, and you begrudgingly tell her you enjoyed yourself, warn her to absolutely not do it again, and… i don’t know, my brain is fizzling out here. you probably find yourself stopping by the tattoo parlour in your free time.

[kjhmyg]

blooming

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader trope: sunshine oc x grumpy jk au: florist!oc x tattoo artist!jk wc: 1k

a drabble request from anon for sunshine protector jk. honestly was doubting the capability of writing jk as a grump but anon, i hope i did it justice and i hope you like it! <3

the tiny bells attached to the entrance chimes as you enter the shop, the smell of fresh flowers greeting you so kindly in the morning. the hour leading up to opening is one of your favourite parts of the day. your flowers are your babies; you sing to them, you change their water, place them gently back into their little spaces, assemble new bouquets to put up for sale, then choose which ones go up front on the daily display.

upstairs, you hear the clinking and clanking of your neighbours. the tattoo parlour above starts a little later than your flower shop, usually seeing their first customer around noon. an unlikely combination, one which leaves most of their clients confused as they step inside, till you point out the steps to the right of your shop which leads up to the parlour. 

but you don’t complain. it brings a nice mix to your client pool. besides, your other favourite part of the day is getting to see your favourite tattoo artist. 

“ahem⎼”

you turn on your heel, snapping out of your thoughts. putting on your best service voice, you were ready to greet a customer, only to find the next best thing. “oh,” your face softens, “good morning jungkook.” 

“morning.” he leans against your counter and nods to the spread of flowers laid out on the long table behind you. “are those flowers that interesting? didn’t even hear me come through the doors, did you?”

“sorry,” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but to mirror it. “i was looking through this customer’s request. it’s a little odd.” 

“why?” 

“because see,” you bring the request ticket over from the table and lean over the counter so he can see it, “these flowers don’t go well together at all. and i know, i know, it’s a custom order. but as a florist, i should be able to tell them if i think it’s not a good combination right? i mean the colours are all over the place. look, you can’t have too many bold colours together, it’ll take away the beauty from each flower. plus it'll look so messy. but at the same time it’s their choice and they are paying for it so i don’t know.” 

jungkook looks at you with a blank expression. his arms are crossed on the counter, and his freshly washed hair rests nicely on his shoulders, curved at the ends. 

“what?” you ask him, shrugging like you didn’t just spit out an entire rant contemplating someone’s custom order.

“is it really that deep?” 

you give him an exasperated look. of course he wouldn’t get it.

he raises a brow, then smirks at your silence. you’re never quiet. not for long anyways. for a moment he wonders if he's hurt your feelings. he tends to do that sometimes. “i’m sure you’ll figure it out. besides, bold colours can look good together.” 

“but not always.” you drum your fingers on the counter, pursing your lips in thought. 

jungkook keeps staring. till your eyes flutter back to him, and you lock eyes for far too long and your heart starts racing. he blinks away first. dropping his bag and leaving his helmet on your counter, he walks across your shop and takes a look around before plucking out four flowers. two yellow flowers and two black ones. 

“hey!” you protest, “those are expensive!” 

jungkook ignores your nagging. he places them on the counter top and pairs them up, one yellow daisy with one black hellebore. then he starts intertwining their stems, creating a tiny knot at the bottom for each pair. the yellow and black flowers sit nicely next to the other. “see? they look good together, don’t they?” 

he reaches over and places one of them into the front pocket of your apron. the other, he slides across the counter in front of you. 

“or maybe not,” he shrugs, “you’re the florist here.” 

“execution could be better,” you giggle, admiring the flowers in your palm, “but it’s cute. maybe you should rethink your career. come and work with me instead!” 

jungkook lingers just to watch the way your eyes twinkle as you twirl the flowers between your fingers. all he did was tie two flowers together, yet you act like a kid with a new toy. and when you look up at him again and give him the widest grin, he decides it’s time to go (else he’d spend the entire day down here). 

he starts collecting his belongings, swinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his headgear. “oh,” he says, remembering, “this is for you.” 

he’d placed the cup carrier aside earlier while talking to you. jungkook checks the order plastered on the side of the cup before placing it in front of you. 

“wait but,” you start, “i don’t drink cof⎼”

“it’s earl grey.” 

your smile drops momentarily out of surprise. you had mentioned a while ago how you couldn’t stand the taste of coffee. 

“later, flower girl.” jungkook makes a turn for the steps. 

after the first few steps, he pauses when he feels something tugging on his arm. he turns to find you standing there, with the flower he’d made earlier in your hand. getting on your tiptoes, you tuck his hair back and gently place the daisy and hellbore combination behind his ear. 

“aw, you look pretty!” his brows furrow and you know he’s probably going to remove it as soon as he makes it up the steps but you don’t care. you wrap around him briefly before letting go. “thank you.” 

before he can say anything else, the bell chimes and you welcome your first customer of the day. jungkook walks up the steps with a roll of his eyes, listening to how excited you get as you go through your collection of flowers. how you could be so chirpy at this hour, he’ll never understand.

upstairs, he drops his stuff in his corner and brings suga his cup of coffee while sipping on his own. the older friend, sanitising his tools for the day, stops mid-clean. “what the hell is that?”

he refers to the flower behind jungkook’s ear. “oh. nothing.” 

“ah…” suga smiles, accepting his drink. “you and flower girl have been getting along well.” 

“she’s nice to talk to.” jungkook says, not thinking much of it. suga scoffs, knowing his friend too well. 

jungkook walks back to his corner, removing the flowers. his hand hovers over the trash can, flowers in his palm. he looks at it again, then smiles. instead, he places them on his desk, right next to the pressed flower coaster you had given him months back. he chuckles, looking at the contrast of these items to the rest of his workspace. 

sighing, he starts his day, with a flower blooming in his heart.

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts VIII

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII *** Love was something that no one could control. It was a great thing. Pain was part of love and no one could stop that either. For me, pain was a big part of my love life. Learning what works for you is big; knowing your limits and what your boundaries are. For me, it was hookups. Those were the devil to me. After sleeping with Jungkook and not being able to eat or sleep without thinking of him is when I knew I fucked up. I should’ve known that it was a one time thing, nothing more than a quick fuck. But seeing him show up in front of me, begging for another chance, was what set me off.

About a month passed, Jungkook continuously bringing you flowers and taking you out on nice dates. Not once, not a single time, did he try to make out with you or touch you inappropriately. He was genuinely trying his best for you. So one night when he was dropping you off at your apartment, he did the usual. He smiled, waved you off and made sure you made it safely into your apartment before putting his helmet back on. You were the one that made the move, walking back to him.

“Did you forget something?” He asked you, holding his helmet at his side, about to check the compartment on the back of his bike. He was silenced by you pulling him down to connect your lips. Your lips were gently touching, not some rough and sloppy kiss. It was a slow and sensual kiss.

You pulled away gently, letting your noses brush against each others. “You taste like cherries…” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the calm environment around the two of you. His strong hands held your waist carefully, fearing that if he did something too suddenly, he would scare you off.

He chuckled and lowered his head to lean his forehead on your shoulder. “You like watermelon juice, yet your favourite lip balm is cherry flavoured. How does that make sense?” He teased you, dragging his hands up and down your sides slowly.

“You know that…?” It was clear from your wide eyes that you were shocked he still remembered that. When had he even noticed you put on cherry lip balm?

“It was the lip balm you put on after our hookup. It was also the lip balm you put on when you came by the tattoo parlour, AND it was the lip balm I saw in your bag at Mrs Eloise’s flower shop. I notice these things, I notice everything that you love.” He whispered, pulling you a little closer.

Your cheeks flushed a bright red, turning your head away and clearing your throat. Pulling away, you felt the sudden loss of warmth from him, “I should…I should go up now…” Your voice held some sort of dissatisfaction, not liking that you had to leave now.

He nodded, letting go of you with slight hesitation. “I had fun. I’ll see you later…” He put his helmet on and got on his bike, watching you walk into your apartment building. Once you were out of sight, he turned on his bike, feeling a vibration in his pocket.

My Girl: Next date is at my place. Friday, 7pm. Don’t be late.

He chuckled, placing his phone back into his pocket. The excitement he felt in his chest was unmatched, not being able to wait for Friday.

*** When Friday came, you had set up your living room with a movie. I mean, what's better than a movie date? The answer is nothing. It was all set up perfectly; popcorn, blankets, random candies you had found in the corner store down the street, and the most important thing...a movie! You hadn't heard of this movie, so it was interesting to see what it would be about.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the doorbell was rung to your apartment. You stood up, walking across the threshold to answer the door. To say your breath was taken when you saw Jungkook was an understatement, you felt as if your soul had been taken. He stood there tall, nothing but a tight white shirt that showed off all his delicious muscles and tattoo sleeve on his right arm. And god, the pants...his pants were tight, hugging his thighs the best way possible, not to mention the noticeable bulge his crotch made.

You looked up at him, taking a deep breath before opening the door wider so he could come in. "You're on time." You said shakily, closing the door when he came into your apartment completely.

He chuckled deeply, "I wouldn't miss this for the world." He smiled down at you, running a hand through his hair. "Looks like you prepared everything already."

"Of course I did! Why would I invite you over if nothing would be ready?" You asked quietly, walking further into your apartment, plopping down onto the couch.

"Maybe you wanted to see me early so you'd have more time with me."

"When have I ever wanted more time with you?"

"How about when you kissed me and wouldn't let my jacket go?" He cocked a brow, "Don't think I didn't notice that."

His comment made your cheeks burn, turning away you patted the cushion beside you. "Just come over here so we can watch the movie..."

His laugh was like music to your ears, he walked over and sat beside you. Once you were both comfortable, you grabbed the remote and pressed play. As mentioned earlier, movie dates were the best. One, they were calming and two, you got to cuddle with your partner...or possible partner. Your back was pressed against his chest, his arm draped over your waist, your ass pressing into his straining cock. When you felt how hard he was, you stiffened, not wanting to say anything. His hand calmly and gently traced circles onto your clothed side, allowing you to relax into him as the movie kept playing. He could feel that you were on edge from being able to feel his hard-on. You should've done your research on the movie before picking it, not knowing it was a horror movie. As time passed, all the movie got scarier and scarier, Jungkook having no reaction to it. Sadly, you were the only one jumping. Your wide eyes were hooked onto the screen, breath getting staggered as your heart pounded against your chest. One of the jump scares making you nearly jump out of your own skin.

"Are you even watching?" You ask, your voice was just barely a whisper.

"I am." He muttered, his voice deep with a hint of...need?

It wasn't helping that you were getting turned on by the feeling of his hard-on pressing against your ass. You turned a little to look at him, he made eye contact with you, gliding his tongue against his bottom lip. You felt his hand go to the hem of your pants, fingertips just barely going under. "Stop it..." You said breathlessly.

"Stop what?" You knew that voice, even if it had been a long time, you knew that voice. He was needy. And so were you.

"You know what...Lindsay could come at any moment." It was still intoxicating.

His nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, "If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will..."

But nothing came out of your mouth, you wanted this. Needed this. Carved this. When he wasn't told to stop, his hand gripped your jaw and forced you to face the screen, "Watch the movie." He growled.

Bad idea, as soon as you looked back, some bloody creature popped up on the screen, making you scream and shrink back into him. Jungkook groaned, feeling your ass dig into his cock, almost blinding him with pleasure and need. His fingers went under the rim of your pants, caressing your soft thighs, causing you to shift with desire from his touch.

"Jungkook..."You plead quietly, asking for something you weren't even sure that you knew what you were asking for.

"This may not end well for you..." Jungkook mused.

"Why?" You asked, slightly hesitant while asking the question.

"You'll have cum leaking down your thighs when I'm done with you." He hummed, reaching forward to play with the lining of your panties.

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers softly brushing against your folds, reveling in the wetness gathering on his fingers. He kept his touches light, depriving you of any true pleasure.

"Jungkook." You bite, your voice more demanding and needy. But all he did was smile, refusing to give you anything else at the moment.

"Keep your eyes on the screen, Y/N, do not make me tell you again." That made your eyes snap to the screen, a gasp being pulled from your lips as you watched the creature slash a person.

Your pussy pulsed, juices gushing from your slit and over his fingers. Jungkook groaned, fighting the urge to plunge his fingers deep into your pussy and feel you pussy clench as you cum all over him. His tongue darted out, licking along your neck and inhaling your intoxicating scent. You tasted so fucking delicious to him. His mouth watered with the need to lap up the arousal soaking his hand. Giving in to your internal plea, he swirls his fingertip over your clit, giving you just enough pleasure to make you lean your head back with bliss. A scream from the movie made her look up again on full alert.

"L-Lindsay could come in..." You croaked, his actions steady and firm. When he pinches your clit, you release a sexy moan from your parted lips.

"Does that make your pussy wet? Hm?" He asked, continuing to rub your clit with his fingers. "Does knowing your friend could come into your apartment at any moment and see you writhing on my fingers turn you on?"

You shook your head, clearly lying as he felt you get wetter by the second. "Having someone see you with my fingers deep in your pussy," He emphasizes his point by pressing his middle finger into you, "It makes you wanna cum all over my fingers, doesn't it, baby?"

He adds a second finger, fucking you in quick and hard strokes. Your breath quickens, moans heightening in pitch as you get closer to an orgasm. His eyes go back and forth between his hand in your pants and your face, loving the sounds falling from your lips. Mid-stroke, he withdrew his fingers and grabbed your jaw with his other hand. He gave you a quick slap to your pussy, enjoying the sudden cry that left your lips as he did so.

"What did I say, baby?" His voice was like honey, but had a secret dark undertone to it.

"W-watch the movie...?" You responded, biting your bottom lip as you turned to look back at the screen.

"Were you even listening?" Jungkook growled, absolutely refusing to touch your needy pussy.

"N-no...I'm sorry..." Something about the apology didn't sound right, why were you apologizing? To keep away the thoughts of confusion and sudden sober-ism from having his fingers out of you, he pushed them back inside of you.

"This sweet little pussy is so needy for my fingers, isn't it? Do you feel how tight you're gripping me? It's so hard to pull them out of you so I can fuck you so good."

You whined and whimpered, nails digging into his bicep. The sting from your nails didn't phase him, his free hand reaching up to your neck. He squeezes firmly, increasing his pace and firmly rubbing your clit. "Jungkook!" You scream, pussy clenching so tightly that he can barely move his fingers anymore.

Your back arches and your head leans back, not caring about watching the movie anymore. You sob loudly as his fingers kept thrusting in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm until your whole body is shaking and you're trying to pull his hand away. He gently eased his fingers out of you, feeling you shiver from the loss of being filled. Licking the juices from his fingers, he makes eye contact with you, ensuring you were watching him. When his fingers were clean, he pushed himself up, grabbing your hand to pull you up as well. Once he was standing, he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your room and placing you on the bed. His breathing was heavy as he looked at you from a distance.

"This is your one chance, Y/N." His voice was rough and deep, deeper than I remembered it to be. "Your one chance to make this choice. The only time I'll let you say no to me. After this, you're mine."

You felt as if your heart would beat through your ribs as you looked up at him. Your mouth opened, slight dread coursing through Jungkook's body as he thought you were going to say no. But instead, you begged. "I wanna be touched. I want you."

A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, "Strip for me."

"St-? W-what?" You couldn't believe how hot he sounded.

"Come on, sweet girl, don't make me repeat myself. I want to see all of you." Every word flowing out of his mouth goes straight down to your core again. Making you wetter than ever before.

You stripped slowly, almost excruciatingly slow. You stripped until you were in your bra and panties. "Off, Y/N. Show me those tits, baby." It sounded as if he was angry, but you knew he was far from it.

When you were fully undressed, he slowly approached you, like a predator does its prey. He walks until he is pressing his legs against yours. "I'm not going to be gentle. I'm not making love to you tonight, I'm going to fuck you. Show you just how much I've missed this. How much I've missed you."

His lips wrap around one of your nipples when he leans down, a soft gasp leaving you lips as you grasp onto his shoulders. His teeth scrape against your hard nipple, sucking hard. He pushes you to lay you down, climbing on top of you. His fingers make their way down to your slit again, seamlessly gliding over your entrance. He sits on his heels, quickly shedding all of his clothes, coming back down to you. When he presses your legs open, you let him, too overstimulated to even try and fight.

"That's my girl." He groaned into your ear, moving your foot out of the way so he could see your glistening pussy from your wetness. "Fuck...so wet I can see it." He swiped two fingers over your pussy, rubbing those same two fingers over his painfully hard cock. He strokes himself a few times, eyes trained on your sex. He reached down and spread you more, "Such a pretty pussy", He says lowly as he glided a finger over your slit again, but not yet pushing in. "Bet you're gonna be so damn tight, gonna squeeze the cum right out of me."

His words made you squirm, just as his touch did. You felt something press against your entrance, something much bigger than his fingers. The tip of his cock pressed gently. You whimpered his name, that was enough to make him ram his hips forward. There was a slight resistance, feeling your pussy clamped around him tightly. It was more than enough to make you scream, from pleasure and some discomfort. Jungkook dropped forward, one hand on either side of your head, so your hands can finally reach him. He rolled his hips, pushing himself even deeper into you.

"Tell me who owns this pussy..." He spoke in a deep but strangled voice, it was clear he was holding back just a little.

"Y-you do, Jungkook..." You cried.

"Again."

"Jungkook!" You're panting, writhing beneath him. "Jungkook owns it."

He dropped to his elbows, one hand reaching back to grab your hair at the roots. "That's right, baby. This belongs to me." He thrusted again. "All of you belongs to me."

Your neck arches, and he uses the angle to fuse his lips to yours. His lips were warm and demanding; it made you feel claimed. The grip in your hair, his hips slamming between your thighs...it felt like ownership. You kissed him back, letting go of your control completely. Jungkook's tongue licks into your mouth, and you can taste what you thought you lost the first time.

"Kookie..." You gasp, opening your mouth for him. The tugging on your hair makes your core clench around him.

"My sweet fucking girl." He withdraws his cock and licks into your mouth again, "You're mine now, baby." He pushed back in his hips rolling devilishly good into you. "Wanna stay buried in this pussy forever."

He starts slamming in even harder, "Let me in, baby." He reaches down to grasp your leg, yanking it to hook it over forearm. Opening you even wider. "There's my sweet girl. Letting me in so good. So deep."

Your body was on fire, his hips not stopping for a second, arm lifting even more to stretch you more. The fingers massaging through your hair was a big contrast, soft and soothing, compared to his harsh thrusts. "That's it, baby girl. Take me. Feel me."

"I am...I do..." Your voice was broken from how much and how loudly you'd been moaning.

Jungkook's thrusting slowed only a little, "I need you to do one more thing for me, baby. Give me one more thing."

"Anything," You spoke quietly, "I'll do anything."

You could feel his breath on your cheek, " I need you to cum all over my cock."

You couldn't reply, his mouth pressing against yours again. Slower this time. You focused on the feeling of his lips against your, moving with him. Opening up for him. Tasting him. Then you feel his fingers on your clit. You hadn't noticed him move his arm to go between your bodies and it was-...you groaned into each other's mouths as you clenched around him.

"You're so close." He moaned.

"Y-yes..."

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard enough that you feel it in your nipples. "O-oh god! Kook, I'm almost-!"

The hand that was tangled in your hair flattens against the back of your head, pulling you to him. He supported his full weight on his elbow, wrapping your arms and legs around him, you curl around his body. Shoving your face into his neck, his fingers dance over your clit. He thrusts up into you, his cock bottoming out as his fingers pinch your clit, and you cum. You screamed as you felt yourself clench around him, his hips piston faster.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me. Squeeze my cock until it's filling you with my cum." He panted, pushing his cum deep into you as you both finish riding your orgasms out.

Exhaustion took over both of you, Jungkook having yet to pull out from you. Your hands flatten along his back, feeling it rise and fall, hot skin under your palms. He burrows his face into the space between your shoulder and neck, making you smile. It was hard to breathe with his weight on top of you, but you didn't want this to end. You worked to get small and short breaths, not wanting to push the tired man off of you. His teeth sink into your neck, making you jolt and all your muscles contract.

"Y/N, you keep squeezing my cock like that and I'm gonna fuck you again." He spoke softly, lips brushing against your neck.

You squeaked at his words, feeling him shift. He pushed your legs up just a little so he could slip out of you comfortably. He places them so that they're still parted as he stands up. "Kook...?"

"Just wait." He spoke gently as he walked into the bathroom. The faucet could be heard, and a few seconds later, Jungkook walks back in, reclaiming his spot between your legs.

He presses a damp wash cloth to your pussy, dragging it through your folds. You hiss at the feeling, "It's cold..."

"I know, baby." He says as he gently wipes you with the washcloth again.

"You could've used warm water." You grumbled, turning your head, but Jungkook grabbed your face to make you look at him again.

"You're going to be sore enough as is. The cold water might help." His voice was soft and soothing, a contrast from how he was talking just a few minutes ago.

He discarded of the washcloth, laying down beside you after, pulling your spent body to his chest. You laid there in silence, basking in the afterglow from your actions. His fingertips traced shapes on your skin, "I love you..."

You froze, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. "You...love me?"

He chuckled, "Of course I do. I was a fucking idiot back then. I didn't know what I had lost until it was gone. You are not something I want to lose ever again."

You cuddled closer, the feeling of contentment washing over you. "I love you too..."

***

Mistakes do get made. Everyone makes mistakes. Luckily for you, your mistake of sleeping with Jungkook ended up in your favor. You still don't know how you went from crying on your bathroom floor because of him, to crying in bed with him because of how good he treated you. You were his special person. And he wasn't ever going to let you go again.

Edit: Hi Everyone! This is the final chapter of Tattooed Hearts. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I already have some more ideas for future stories, and please don't be afraid to give ideas for a series you want to see in the future! I love you all very much, thank you for all the support for this story. I look forward to seeing you in the future with my new stories :)

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[riveroftales]

:+:-・:+:-・𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍:+:-・:+:-

ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛ ɢɪʏᴜᴜ x ғᴇᴍ! ғʟᴏʀɪsᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝘾𝙒! 𝖦𝗂𝗒𝗎𝗎'𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾

“Hello!” You smiled as you walked in the tattoo parlour, holding a box. “I have a delivery?”

“Oh! Hi!” A pretty girl with one tatted arm of a swarm of butterflies smiled back. “Are those the African Violets?”

“Mhm! Got 5 small pots in it, just as requested.”

“Thank you so much! You can leave them on the counter, and I believe the manager already paid?”

You listened to the girl, gently dropping the box near the register.

“Eh? I was told I’d be paid in person after I delivered it.”

“Ah, I see! Please wait for a bit then, I’ll go get the manager.”

You nodded as the girl walked away. Looking around, you took in the sight of the parlour. The whole place was kept neat and you saw a few bottles of tattoo ink.

Looking at the posters on the wall, you wondered if you could also get one.

What would it be?

As cliche as it was, you wanted a flower tattoo. A pretty flower of any kind.

There are a lot of pretty flowers.

“Hello.” A man emerged from the back.

But he’s prettier than flowers.

“Kocho, the girl you saw here, reminded me about the payment.” There wasn’t an expression present on his face, but his demeanour was soft.

“It’s fine. Honestly, things like this happen.” You smiled softly.

The man cleared his throat.

“How much is it?”

“$30.”

“Do you take credit?”

You nodded as you took your phone out.

“Yup! Just scan this and we’ll be good to go!”

He unlocked his own phone before scanning the QR code you put up on your screen.

“Thank you for your purchase!”

You sprayed the small bonsai tree on your windowsill with a spray bottle, humming along to the soft music you were playing in the back. The door opened.

“Oh! Welcome!” You smiled warmly to the customer, just for a blush to rise to your face.

The handsome tattoo artist.

“Hey.” He scratched the back of his head. “I.. Uhm. I need to make a new purchase.”

“Of course! Please feel free to look around and take your pick! I’ll make sure to deliver it myself as well.”

To your surprise, he laughed softly.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’d like to make a new purchase for you. I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM.

“Eh?”

“I don’t really like stalling.. you already should have my number on your order history. Just text me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. If it’s ’no’, that’s fine. If it’s a ‘yes’, you can send me your address if you want me to pick you up. Be ready by 7:30 PM.” He smiled softly before putting his hands in his pockets, turning around to leave the shop.

“Wait!” You stopped. “How are you so confident I’ll come?”

He smiled. “You go on blind dates, right? Only difference is that you know what I look like.”

A small laugh came out of you.

“See you then, princess.”

A smile formed on your expression as you recalled the memory. You finished cutting the stems of your flowers and you started to arrange them.

You relocated your office. The store was still the same, but now, your office was in a different part. It was facing the tattoo parlour right across.

You could still remember how the parlour was once the size of a small grocery store, but now, it had undergone renovations and it looked better than ever. You counted 7 new clients.

My Love, you still ready for tonight?

You received a text.

Yep! Just gotta finish a small arrangement for a client who’s getting married soon

You got a response almost immediately.

That’s odd. I don’t remember proposing to you?

GIYUU

I’m kidding, Princess <3

You let out a small huff before smiling. Finishing the arrangement, you put it away at a safe spot in your office before grabbing your bag and walking to the other side of the road to the tattoo parlour.

You wanted to spend a little more time with Giyuu even though you were still going out for a date later that evening. Time just felt so beautiful when you were with him. A little unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your office and hence didn’t see the next two messages from him.

<<Image attachment>>

Heads up: I’m going to propose to you tonight with this ring. Don’t cry, okay? Just say yes or no. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I love you <3 get all dolled up for me, okay?

Ahhhh low-key hate this but I was desperate to upload smth T^T

I MIGHT rewrite this later bsjsjsjsjsj

[euphoricfilter]

Can I request a drabble with Yoonji? If so, could it be a fluffy flower shop/tattoo parlour au with "I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you.", please? Thank you! 💜

summer mornings and strawberries:

pairing: tattoo artist! yoonji (yoongi) x f. reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || cisswap || established relationship

summary: sometimes it's hard to put your love for someone into words

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: fluff, wlw, goth gf yoonji x pastel princess m/c (you know that’s right), minor suggestive content but no real smut

notes: women <3 this one felt harder to keep in the 1k boundary because they’re both just so cute :( i might write a short sequel for mommy yoonji since it wouldn't fit into this part if people are interested

drabble requests are closed

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Over here, baby” 

You perk up, Jimin long forgotten as your girlfriend waves you over from her office. 

“Sorry, Minnie” you brush him off as you skip into Yoonji’s arms, completely ignorant to the fact she keeps eye contact with the receptionist as she presses a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

Jimin snorts, eyes flickering down to your skirt that barely covers your ass. 

Your mouth falls open into a gasp as Yoonji grabs the meat of your thigh, teasing in the way she knows has arousal slicking up your panties. You always had been easy to rile up. 

“You’re late” she murmurs, hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as her breath tickles your cheek. 

“The shop was quite busy today,” you tell her as she kicks the door to her office closed, tattoo equipment already set up for you. 

“You should really tell your boss you can’t do overtime” 

You frown, “But she says I’m the best at bouquets” 

“I’m sure you are the best, my love. Now take a seat, I canceled my next appointment so we can spend the afternoon together” 

“You didn’t have to do that” you giggle, sweater shucked off on the floor somewhere that she picks up, folding it over the back of her chair as you settle down. 

“I don’t wanna hear any of that” 

“Yes ma’am” you mock salute. 

Her eyebrows furrow, silent offer to be a brat, though by now she knows you’re aware of the consequences. 

Her chair kicks backwards as she leans down for a kiss. Purposeful as her lips mold with yours, barely enough room for either of your to breathe until she’s pulling back, and your pink blush is hiding the red that coats your cheeks rosy. 

You’d always found something so utterly mesmerizing about Yoonji, her beauty that of a black dahlia, though you think she was more of a pink rose; gentle. 

Someone you aspired to be, so confident in her own skin, she knew exactly what she wanted, and made sure she got it. 

Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t word exactly how you felt about her, ‘love’ perhaps an umbrella term for all the little things you adored about her mere existence. No amount of flowers with lovely meanings, or poems about undying love that you write in little notes for customers (that had definitely been stolen from the internet), is never truly enough. 

Your friends had drilled the idea in their heads that Yoonji was reserved, and didn’t know how to show her love the right way, ‘cold’ even. A word you had never, and will never use to describe her. 

Because it seemed like she knew how to show her love for you, better than you did for her. 

The world had always had a split view on the term ‘opposites attract’, that you’re good for each other until you’re in a relationship, and then it all goes to shit because you’re two very different people. 

Yoonji never minded how you blasted your music over her speakers, the music she would overwise despise if it weren’t you. Just like how you never liked the hard-hitting rap she absolutely loved, though hummed along as she cleaned the house. 

She never minded how your clothes had split up the blacks of her hoodies and jeans in the closet, or the cute little bedspread you insisted on having because you didn’t like her grey one.

Or how the counter in the bathroom had been permanently doused in glittery eyeshadow. Where shampoo smelt of warm summer mornings and strawberries, instead of muted and never-really-there comfort. Your existence now a permanent fixture in her, no, your home.

It felt as though Yoonji worshipped your very existence, held you in her hands, delicate like you were a daisy, or a gentle buttercup. 

Your person that you couldn’t imagine a future without.

Her art is forever inked into your skin, art that no one else in the world will ever have because maybe tattoos were one of her love languages. Something in your heart squeezing, emotions mushy, that make you want to gush like you were in high school again when you catch a glimpse of her work etched into your skin in the mirror. The work she had spent hours designing specifically for you. 

Yoonji didn’t mind initiating physical contact, something you’d always shied away from, something she’d taught you was okay to want, that yearning wasn’t bad. That touch is just many of the languages of love that the both of you shared.

She liked to cook or take you on picnics in the summer, watching you twirl in dresses made of satin, or smudge your lipstick with a kiss before she helps you reapply it. Only to kiss you again. 

She calls you pretty and loved your body in ways that showed you self-love wasn’t selfish. Because if she could love you, then it shouldn’t be impossible to love yourself.

Yoonji kissed you under the stars and liked how the moon made you shine like a delicate fairy, always so beautiful in her eyes. She held your hand while you ordered food, and visits you during her lunch breaks with coffee and cakes or little sandwiches cut into triangles. 

Every little brush of her fingers over your bare skin had been etched into your mind, hours spent apart missing her even though you knew you’d be going home to your apartment, greeted with a kiss that always has you melting into her chest. 

Over the years your love language had morphed into your job just like hers, and Yoonji found it endearing how you’d come home with flowers for her, test runs for the shop's new theme though you seem to always keep her in mind as you hone your craft. 

And as much as you worried that you were never enough, always so consumed by thoughts she knew were pointless, Yoonji loved you nonetheless. 

“I don’t think anyone could be as lovely as you,” she tells you one evening, your head resting on her thighs, careful as she brushes your hair after you’ve both taken a shower together. 

You blink up at her, tongue wetting your bottom lip, “You’re a lot lovelier than I am” 

“Not true” she laughs, thumb rubbing over your jaw, “Besides, you’re the only one that sees me like this” 

“Is it selfish that I like it that way?” 

She hums, tucking her hair behind her ear, sharp eyes never straying away from yours. “It’s okay to be selfish, you know” 

“When it comes to you, I don’t mind” you smile, rolling onto your stomach. 

You blink up at her through your lashes. 

Her lips quirking upwards, always finding it hard not to smile when she’s with you, “I love you, flower” 

“I really love you too” you smile, “And I think I’ll love you forever” 

She tilts her head, “That’s a long time. Think you can put up with me for that long?” 

“As long as you can put up with me for that long, then I don’t mind” 

“You act as though you’re hard to put up with” she pushes your hair out of your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, nose, then each eyelid as you lean into the palm of her hand that cups your cheek. 

“Forever, then” you whisper, eyes barely open as you chase her lips for another kiss. 

She hums, “Forever it is”

[wispycecilia]

wilted feelings.

fushiguro megumi x reader

[20:51] - 1339 words.

synopsis: the tattoo artist next to your florist shop is so deeply in love with you. so much so that his unsaid feelings causes flowers to erupt from his lips, faster than the eye can see. a tragedy tale, one for the historians to gasp upon in awe.

notes: hanahaki disease AU. tattoo artist! x florist! AU. alternate universe; no curses universe. not proofread. british english used. detailed descriptions of blood and death. requited love but no one confesses type thing. angst. mainly in the pov of megumi.

a/n: i’ve always loved the idea of megumi with a sweet s/o, even better if its a lil tragic too. i mixed up all my favourite tropes into one story; i hope u all enjoy hehe

It was something straight out of a tragedy novel.

The quaint shop next-door, the type that you could imagine fairies living in if they were real. If Snow White was a shop, ‘(Y/N)’s Flower Boutique’ would be the spitting image of it. Wisteria vines acted like a halo on top of the brick building; lights twinkled as it stood prettily away from the limelight. Beautiful.

And then there was the shop adjacent to the picturesque view.

The parlour was something equivalent to The Evil Queen. With black walls and tinted windows, mothers ushered their children away whenever ‘Fushiguro & Co. Tattoo Parlour’ came into view. It wasn’t anything that the aforementioned man was not used to - actually, he became accustomed to all the judgement.

So imagine Megumi’s surprise when you, the resident sweetheart, tip-toed your way into his life, erasing the coat of black ink around his heart with arrangements created out of daisies and baby’s breath. Thump. He felt his heart hammer. Just when did his casual waves turn into expectant stares?

‘Fushiguro, hey!’

Speak of the devil. Well, angel would be more fitting in this case, he thought.

A warm grin emitted from your face, and Megumi heard the heavens singing. The summer’s glow did wonders to your smile. That’s when the smell of fresh, morning dew entered his nose; a bouquet laid perfectly in place in your arms, made from daffodils and water lilies, the appearance looking like they’ve been nurtured by Demeter herself. New beginnings and eternal life, Megumi recalled your lecture, though it also meant vanity and unrequited love.

‘This the daily pick? You shouldn’t be wasting your profit for me, y’know.’

You puffed your cheeks out in response, incredulous that the man would ever think that way. A slight smirk tugged at his lips, before he laughed at your expense. Everything was normal.

Or so he thought.

It was so faint that no-one would’ve noticed it - not even Megumi himself - but the slight tickle that he felt within his throat was far from normal. A singular yellow petal escaped from his mouth. Huh, weird. How did one of the petals make its way there?

If only Megumi saw the sympathetic gaze that a client gave, the lady whose arm was freshly tattooed with a child that had flowers erupting from her mouth. The patron knew it all too well. She knew it was only a matter of time before he too fell into the hands of the disease that ended her daughter's life.

Yellow. That was all Megumi could see. Vines and daffodil buds overtook his bathroom like an infestation; his throat begged for air. The toilet bowl he was hunched over was a mixture of red liquid and yellow, like a bouquet arrangement gone wrong. The sound of wretched vomiting could attract the attention of anyone’s ears. Funny. The sight would’ve been beautiful, if not for the blood glazed around the petals where dew should have been. The metallic taste in his mouth did not help at all.

Megumi remembered how the doctor’s office seemed yellow in the sunset; he was haunted. He remembered how the doctor diagnosed him with Hanahaki disease, that it will swallow up his life if his love is never returned. Megumi remembered that if he takes the surgery to get the flowers removed, all his emotions will wilt away, making the colours in his life disappear. He remembered the fear he felt when posed with the question, Will you take the treatment, or not?... Megumi remembered everything.

But above all, Megumi remembered how wonderful the blossoming feelings felt; the happiness he experienced whenever he saw you. Don’t give up. Survive for (Y/N), was chanted in his head like a mantra.

So he refused the treatment. Megumi wanted to experience this summer love for a bit longer, even if it hurts him.

A disease born from unrequited love. For something that seemed ripped out of fiction, the experience was all too real.

The bathroom was appallingly beautiful. If someone thought the previous state of it was bad, they’d be in for a shock with how it is now. The entire area was lined with flowers; bouquets could be made from his man-made garden. Yet, the pain in his abdomen and the blood splatters on the previously pristine tiles reminded him of what this was: a neverending nightmare.

Avoiding you was never a part of the plan, but what could he do? Whenever he saw you, his emotions expanded tenfold, only ever worsening the flowers that bloomed out his mouth. Oh, how he craved the sight of your beaming eyes once more.

The shrill buzz of the doorbell cut his musings. ‘Hello, are you home? I’m sorry to stop by so abruptly; you haven’t been at work lately, so…’

He missed your sweet voice, but it wasn’t welcomed at the moment. Wiping off the crusted blood across his face, Megumi attempted to make himself look presentable. Though, his sickly appearance said it all. With a heavy heart, he prepared himself for what was to come.

Megumi dared not to open the door more than needed. A small crack was enough. If it was pushed any further, the bloodied dandelions accompanied by the dishevelled state of his apartment would only raise suspicions. He had only hoped that the smell of blood would not reach your nose.

‘Oh, thank god you’re okay! Here, I brought these for you, they’re--’ Your concern was evident. It was too much; Megumi couldn’t handle it.

‘Seriously? Don’t come here anymore. You’re the last person I want to see right now.’ He cut you off, sending a glare that made the stars in your eyes dissipate. ‘Leave.’

His heart faltered. A shaky smile was all that he got in return, and Megumi watched as your hair bounced with every step that you took, the concrete pathway getting watered with small tears. He knew it was a fateful meeting that was never meant to be, so he let you fly away.

You were a flower created by the angels, while Megumi was a devil who was in awe. The price to pay if he dared to pluck you away? Death.

But it seemed as if just admiring you had the same outcome.

Megumi felt the all-too-familiar ache in his chest. Kneeling over the linoleum flooring, his hands reached up to cover his mouth, gagging as a garden erupted from his lips. The yellow flowers he grew to dread surrounded him like a halo, incredibly unfitting for the likes of him. His chest burned in response. Blood began to spill out, too much of it. Tears gathered in his eyes from the pain; no air would enter his lungs when he tried to catch his breath.

It was ironic. He pushed you away, and yet, in his final moments, all he could think about was you. Truly a tragic way to die: suffocating on the pain that was left by loving someone who would never love you back.

You tended to the daffodils at the front of the boutique, yet you felt empty somehow. Who knew that someone’s presence could change one’s life forever? The flower you loved so much no longer provided the calming feeling; it was not a sufficient presence anymore. You knew why. You felt sorry for that day. Apologise, was all that ran through your head. And so you set off, towards the parlour where Megumi would wave in his endearing way. But that was weeks ago now.

Entering the store, the workers' pitiful glances shredded your hope more and more. Mustering whatever courage you had left, you sent a desperate look, ‘Where’s Megumi?’

Silence. That’s when you knew.

I’m sorry.

A singular cough escaped your lips, a light lavender petal following in its trail.

Purple hyacinths: the flower known for sorrowful love. The flower that tormented countless heart-broken individuals. Now, like the harbinger of death, it will take you and your love with it as well.

What a beautifully bittersweet end.

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

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“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

⁜

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

⁜

⁜

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

[gguksgalaxy]

Inkling | JJK

Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

›› AU: Tattoo Artist ›› Genre: Smut / Angst ›› Rating: 18+ explicit sex ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 17.7k Warnings Include: Lots of swearing, conflict, a false accusation of cheating on a third party (it’s nothing serious please trust me), Jungkook being a dick, the death of a coat hanger, mentions of internalised homophobia, fear of coming out, and unaccepting parents. Sexual content: rough (protected) sex, piercings, heavy petting, teasing (with and without other people around), lots of tongue action, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, marking, nipple play, mentions of riding, blowjobs, and mxm sex. A/N: This one is for my beloved friend @xiubaek-13 who’s stood by me and my tumblr journey for over 3 years now. Our friend anniversary was last week, the 16th of January, so it’s a little late. But I hope you still love it. Remember, you gave me this idea, so you shall face the consequences. Enjoy <3

“Like, it’s so unfair,” you groan, arm slung over your face. “He kisses so well. I’m talking toe-curling, spine-arching, breathtakingly good. He really didn’t need to decorate his tongue with a gold medal to celebrate it.” You've replayed the events of Saturday night many times since it happened. The way Jungkook’s hands had slid under your shirt. Your thighs spread over his. Kissing, grabbing, moaning. It really wasn’t fair, the way his tongue pressed into your mouth and made you cave at the very first swipe. The first subtle brush of his golden tongue piercing against your lips. How he—

“Okay, please stop detailing me on what he can do with his tongue and get to the point. If this was just about his amazing tongue skills you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be in his bed.” Hoseok grumbles. “So?” His back is turned to you as he motions for you to continue, busy cleaning his tattoo gun after he touched up your latest piece. A colourful design on the side of your breast and ribs.

It’s one of the reasons you find yourself here. Half your chest out at 8am in Hoseok’s tattoo shop, Inkling. The other reason is being able to vent about his best friend and colleague — Jungkook — without him actually being here.

Jungkook, who had kissed you like he meant it. Fingers sinking deep into the flesh of your thighs. Whose bun had come undone from the way your fingers had slid into his hair. The ink that covers his slightly tanned skin shifting to show defined muscles. The smirk he had every time he’d looked at you — quirking up the left corner of his mouth. His stupidly skilled tongue. The golden tongue piercing that adorns it.

He’d kissed you so hungrily — devoured you — and then he’d gotten up and ran out on you. Leaving you with no proper explanation or goodbye.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got twenty minutes left to tell me what happened before I go pick him up. Get on with it.” Hoseok finally turns to face you again, grabbing the cream and film to finish up your tattoo. The deep-coloured mandala designs on his elbow shift as he does so. Like all of Hoseok’s tattoos, these are traditionally styled, more simple. Yet, there’s something about every one of his pieces that is uniquely him. Like the small red flower at the hollow of his throat that shifts as he speaks. “What’d he do to you?”

You groan again, lifting your arm a little to give him better access to your side. “I’m not entirely sure really. Like...One second we’re making out and the next he gets up and pushes me off.”

Smoothing the film over your side, he speaks without losing focus. “How drunk was he?” Hoseok isn’t normally this flat in his speech. His mood, much like yours, seems off today.

“Not all that drunk, seen him way worse.” You and Jungkook had both been tipsy, at most. Neither of you made it past more than three drinks before you were all over each other. Hands on bodies. Lips on necks.

It had been a long time coming. The two of you agonisingly ogling each other from a distance for months. That is, if you can call you nearly sitting in his lap every change you get ‘distance’. Even your brother Yoongi had firmly called you out to do something about the sexual tension. Last Saturday you had. It just didn’t go as planned.

Your friend chuckles suddenly.

“What?”

“Nothing, just a thought. Keep talking.”

“No, Jung. Spit it out.” Now that he’s done, you sit up to narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs. “Maybe you’re just a bad kisser, I don’t know.”

You gasp. “I am no such thing.”

“I mean, I can’t attest to that. Facts only.” He again motions for you to continue as he gets up to clean some things. “He pushes you off and then what?”

Something about the way that Jungkook had looked at you when he pushed you off had stuck with you. Pain, confusion. No lust, no want, not even embarrassment. “He just left.”

“What do you mean he left?” Your friend’s eyebrows contort as he pulls off his gloves. They’re black just like the walls in the small shop. “Are you sure he wasn’t just — I don’t know — not that into it?”

You scowl. “I am not that bad of a kisser Hoseok! If the tent in his jeans had been anything to go by, I’d say it’s the opposite.”

Hoseok merely rolls his eyes, dusting off his ripped jeans and sitting down at the end of the chair that you're still lounging on. He runs a hand through his vibrant red hair.

Part of you just feels sick to your stomach. Both out of embarrassment, confusion and anxiety. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and you had all gone to a club together, a normal Saturday night. It’s not uncommon for you and Jungkook to get a little handsy after a few drinks. Usually though, you’d be delightfully cockblocked by your brother, Yoongi.

You get it. Jungkook doesn’t want to make out with his friend’s little sister when he’s right there. Now that he finally got free reign, this happens.

Whatever ‘this’ even means. All you’ve been able to think about is that Jungkook knew what he was doing. His mouth, his hands, his body. Everything. He played you like a damn fiddle. The moan he’d let out at the first contact of your mouth to his still echoes in your ears. Deep, guttural relief.

Hoseok interrupts your train of thoughts, “and you haven’t seen him since he walked out on your apparently amazing make-out session?”

“It’s not like I ever see him on Sundays. Shop’s closed and Yoongi and I usually have a stay-in day.”

“Has he called?” Hoseok asks, quirking one dark eyebrow.

“No?”

“Texted?”

“Nope.”

He sighs, ruffling his own hair, foot tapping on the grey tiles of the floor. “Have you tried texting him? Calling him?” The accusatory tone in his voice twists your gut as you give him a sheepish grimace. “Y/N!”

“What?!” You look away, eyes focusing on anything but him. The off-white desks, Jungkook’s detailed artwork displayed on the opposite wall. The red of the door that leads into the back, or maybe the piercing display.

The chair creaks when Hoseok gets up. “I just thought that, since you’re a girl, you’d have a bit more sense when it comes to shit like this. But you and Yoongi really are one and the same.”

“Excuse me?” you spit, turning back to face him as you grab for your shirt to cover yourself up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Both of you are dense as fuck. You can’t always wait for the other person to act first.” The sharp tinge in Hoseok‘s voice hints at something else. Something unrelated to you and Jungkook. It must be related to your brother. After all, they’d been in a relationship for a little over half a year now. A rocky one. Something must’ve happened between them over the weekend. “Just,” he stops, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Jungkook will be here today, just ask hi—“

The bell that sounds as the door open drown out the sound of Hoseok’s playlist. It brings with it the sound of pouring rain. The tattoo artist immediately gets up to check. The shop isn’t open yet.

“Kook?!” Hoseok exclaims. “I told you I was coming to pick you up. You’re going to get sick like this. What were you thinking?” Concern laces his voice as he rushes over to his friend who’s still hidden from your view behind the velvet grey curtain. Hoseok lets out a few curses, caring personality getting the better of him. Always a listening ear, always ready to help. Sometimes, maybe a little too concerned. Jungkook seems to agree.

“I can take care of myself,” the younger grumbles. He trudges inside, entering the area where you’re currently sitting. Water is dripping down his leather jacket and black baseball cap onto the tile floor. He’s effectively soaked to the bone. Black jeans plastered to his thighs more than usual.

A sense of dread fills your veins when his eyes land on your still half-naked chest. Yes, Jungkook has seen you topless before. To pierce your nipple. Not randomly in the middle of his shop.

His dark gaze flickers between you and Hoseok. Jaw clenched tight, tongue pushing his cheek. “I have a change of clothes in the back.” His voice is nothing short of a sneer, as he drops his backpack by his station and walks off without another word.

“Yikes,” Hoseok whispers. “Are you sure you told me the entire story?”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up before he fucking hears you. And call my brother,” you mumble, pulling your shirt over your head, “He’s not going to call you first. We both know that.”

With your shirt back on you feel a little more comfortable. But not comfortable enough to immediately go confront Jungkook.

“What did you two fight about anyway?” you question the redhead who’s currently bent over the laptop by the front desk.

Hoseok doesn’t look up, brown eyes lit by the screen. “Nothing you should be concerned about. You just worry about mister tongue medal. I can fix my own relationship problems.” The comment stings. Neither Hoseok nor Yoongi have ever been particularly open about their relationship. Even though you’re close with both.

“That was unnecessary.”

“I’m sorry.” He leans his head down. “Having all three of you in bad moods is just not doing any good for my own.” The tension in his body is evident as he straightens up. He slides a black folder your way. “How about you go make inventory from today’s shipment. I’ll try and talk to him during morning appointments.”

Inventory, great. Not the kind of work you thought you’d be doing when you offered to help them around the place. You want to protest, but he cuts you off.

“Listen, I know that you hate doing inventory. I know you don’t want to be here at all right now, but you promised to cover Tae’s position until we found someone else.” He’s right, you had offered to do that. In return for a tattoo, you would work their front desk whenever you have time between school and your actual, paying job. The desk was previously manned by Jungkook’s best friend Taehyung. He now works at an art gallery. A job he’s always dreamed of. “It’s not my fault you decided to make out with him,” Hoseok states. “Okay? Now go.”

“I know, I’m going.”

There’s no way for you to miss Jungkook as you round the corner. Tanned skin and tattoos shift as he shakes his wet hair. The crow and moon tattoo on his upper back stand out starkly. Dark, like most of his tattoos. You’ve seen it before, it’s always peeking up from the collar of his shirt. The floral pattern that peeks up from the waistband of his jeans is new to you though. It curves over his lower back and hips. You wonder how deep it goes.

The fabric of his clean shirt drapes down and hides everything from your view. It snaps you out of your thoughts quickly enough for you to slip into the storage room quickly enough before he spots you.

Your gut wrenches with nerves. Avoidance, great. Probably not the best way to solve this. Certainly not the fastest. But then again, talking this out while Hoseok is right there is inconsiderate. It’ll have to wait.

You’ll just spend the rest of your morning thinking about nothing else but Jungkook. The anger in his eyes a few minutes ago, the feeling of his tongue, and shipments. Fun.

Your butt hits the floor as you open the folder. The room is dusty, even with the lights on you struggle to read Hoseok’s jagged handwriting. For someone who draws so well you’d expect something at least semi-legible. Regardless, you can’t focus to begin with.

You and Jungkook have been running in circles ever since that one time when he pierced your nipple. Cliché, but it is what it is. You remember the risky touches and how turned on you’d been. Until he actually pierced you. That had been the most painful thing you ever experienced.

It’s been over a year since Jimin, Yoongi’s coworker, introduced the two of you to Hoseok and Jungkook. Now, everyone in your close circle of friends knows that there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension between you and the youngest. Sadly, neither of you have acted on it. That’s as much your own fault as it is Jungkook’s. Not to speak of the fact that you’ve been interested in him ever since you first laid eyes on him. An entire year, and you did nothing about it.

In that time, Jimin started dating Taehyung. The guy who worked Inkling’s front desk. And your brother has started dating Hoseok. Something Yoongi had only recently told Jungkook about.

That had been a bit of an unfortunate situation. As much as you had assured Yoongi that Jungkook would not bat an eye if he came out to him, he just kept pushing it off. The way your parents had treated him when he told them he was gay made a deep impact on him. It’s a wound you don’t think will ever truly heal. Your parents’ harsh reaction was the reason he moved out at the young age of sixteen. That same reason caused you to show up at his doorstep a few years later. To live with him. Support him.

You and Yoongi have always been close. It’s why he knows about your crush on Jungkook. It’s why you’ve kept Yoongi’s secret from everyone for so long. He’d been especially on guard when he thought Jungkook had already found out a few weeks ago. Apparently Jungkook had suspected something, asked Taehyung about it, who told Jimin, who came to Yoongi. Your brother had then turned into a hysterical mess.

That situation is over now. And somehow you’ve magically created another one out of thin air. You think about this as you count the packages of dyes, gloves, masks, and other various things you’ve no clue what they’re used for. It’s just a little tricky to match the official descriptions to Jungkook’s incoherent labels and abbreviations. Boxes labeled guns, pricklers, and clamps most certainly weren’t what you were looking for. Those are all related to Jungkook’s piercing practice.

When Hoseok and Jungkook set up the shop three years ago it had taken the younger an entirety of a year to convince his friend to let him start piercing. Hoseok’s slightly irrational fear of piercings made a poor argument. Especially since tattooing involves a needle. Something about the puncturing of skin or whatever. Jungkook had eventually won.

Your phone rings, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What the...” you mutter as you see Taehyung’s name pop up on the screen. Taehyung never calls you. The two of you don’t even talk outside of the group.

Picking up, you lean against one of the shelves. “Hey Tae, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” There’s a loud yawn on the other end followed by the unmistakable sound of a car door closing. He must be about to get into work. “I’m calling about Jungkook.”

Heart rate picking up, you await his following words.

“I’m not sure what exactly happened, but you probably know more about it than I do.” His voice trails off, faintly lined with anger.

“Is this about Saturday?” you ask, hoping for a no.

Taehyung is silent for a few beats, “I mean, I thought the two of you finally fucked after we couldn’t find you two. Jimin and I scouted the entire place, you were nowhere to be found. He’s called you three times since, and you haven’t gotten back to him. What happened?”

You mentally curse yourself for not calling Jimin back. He’d be way easier to talk to than an aggravated Taehyung.

“I'll rephrase my question,” he says upon your lack of answer. “Yesterday Jungkook came to ours at eight in the morning. He was really fucking distraught and I want to know if you have anything to do with it?”

“Tae...” you hesitate, unsure of what to tell him. The tone of his voice isn’t making it easy for you to choose your words. You know he has a temper. He won’t just forgive you if you hurt Jungkook, he’d do anything to protect him.

“Don’t ‘Tae’ me, you’re not Jimin. It doesn’t work when you do it. You can’t blame me for looking out for Jungkook when he was so upset.”

You really do understand where he’s coming from. Before he and Jimin had gotten steady enough to move in together, Taehyung had been crashing on Jungkook and Hoseok’s couch for months after a series of complicated events. The details had been kept from you, but it involved Taehyung severing ties with a gang he’d been involved in. It hadn’t gone as planned, and Jungkook had to make sure he would get back up on both feet. He made sure he had a roof over his head and food to eat. The entire ordeal had completely passed you by until Jungkook mentioned it to you when he was drunk on your couch one night a few weeks ago.

“Y/N?” he pushes

“I know, I know. Just give me the space to fix this, okay? I have as much of an idea as to what’s going on as you do.” You rub your eyes, trying to stave off the nerves. “I’ll talk to him today, I promise.”

The other’s car engine revs in the background. “Did you know he was upset?”

You bite your lip. “Sort of.”

“And you didn’t think to call him?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” The way the words fall from his lips make tears appear in the corners of your eyes. What if Taehyung was right? What if you had read all the signs wrong? What if Jungkook didn’t like you? Had you messed up? Pushed him too far? “I’ve known Jungkook since we were kids. He puts up a strong front and you know it. He manages to scare off enough people by merely looking at them. But we’re all aware that he doesn’t look at you the same way. He’s more sensitive than he lets on.” Taehyung’s voice remains neutral, but his words still sting.

You find yourself sliding down the shelves and onto the floor. Fighting the tears increasingly getting harder as Taehyung’s words cause your mind to reach for places that it shouldn’t. Jungkook is more than just a hot guy who wears a manbun and has too many piercings for you to count. He’s more than a guy you want to fuck. You like him, as a person.

“Just let me talk to him, okay? I haven’t had a chance yet.” There’s not much else to tell him. You know that he’s not going to take your side. If you really hurt Jungkook you wouldn’t forgive yourself either. “I never intended to upset him.” The thought that you might’ve pushed Jungkook too far feels wholly irrational, but you can’t get it out of your head anymore.

Taehyung’s silence threatens to make your thoughts spiral again. When he speaks you’re almost relieved. “To be honest, I don’t want to turn this into a huge thing before my ten hour shift.” Your heart sinks. “I’ve got to go, let me know how it goes.”

He hangs up without another word, leaving you with guilt settling heavily in your stomach. This entire situation is messed up. You vividly remember Jungkook pulling you in, capturing your mouth with his. He’s the one who shifted you into his lap, who made you his. It can’t just have been your imagination. Maybe this wasn’t even related to you.

You just hope that whatever it is that caused him to react this way, is something you can fix. An apology should be the start. Taehyung was right.

A knock on the door startles you. “Are you alive?” Hoseok calls, opening the door. He frowns upon seeing your slouched form on the floor. Phone lying between your legs. “You know that if you want to take a break, you can just come up to the front, right?”

You shake your head. “Taehyung called.”

Hoseok helps you up, brushing some dust off the back of your shirt. “Everything okay?”

“Ha, no.” You let out a dry chuckle that’s merely there to cover up your obvious nerves. “Taehyung seemed pretty angry.”

“Eh, he always does. He’s just overprotective of Jungkook, Jimin’s not gonna let him actually rip you a new one. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” Hoseok speaks gently as he grabs the binder off the floor. “Did you finish?”

You nod. “Just unsure of where everything goes.” There’s still a few open boxes in the back.

“That’s okay. I’ll put them into place later.”

“Hobi?” you ask as he opens the door.

He hums an affirmative.

“What if Jungkook didn’t want to kiss me?”

There’s a brief silence, Hoseok turning around with the most confused look on his face as he observes you. “I’m sorry but what did Taehyung say to you? I swear that I have no idea what’s going on but I can assure you that Jungkook not wanting you is the least of your problems.” He lets out a laugh.

“Okay,” you mumble, a little hurt that he’s laughing at it. But he’s probably right. Jungkook’s lingering touches, his purposeful stares, that little thing he does with his tongue piercing that drives you insane. “Did you call my brother yet?”

Hoseok nods, moving to his messy station. “He’s supposed to bring over lunch. All’s good, I promise.” He ruffles your hair and you swat at his arm. Maybe he’s getting a little too comfortable around you. He might be dating your brother, but that doesn’t give him the right to do that. Only Yoongi is allowed to ruffle your hair. Sometimes.

Back in the front area, Jungkook is finishing up a tattoo on someone’s leg. The man’s lying on his stomach, seemingly quiet. Just how you know Jungkook prefers his sessions. He doesn’t talk much when he’s working, finds it easier to concentrate this way. For a moment you let yourself stare. Eyes gliding over the dip in his back and his messy hair. The way it’s pushed back shows off his eyebrow piercing.

Many have claimed him to be intimidating. If it isn’t for the multitude of piercings in his face and ears, then it’d be the way his arms and shoulders are covered in ink. Or his facial expressions. There’s something about the way his brows furrow and his jaw sets just right, that tends to make the sixteen year old girls who come to get their belly buttons pierced regret their decisions. You on the other hand, can’t get enough of him like this.

Where Jungkook is all black — tattoos, clothes and hair — Hoseok is brighter. The other’s red hair and deep-coloured tattoos speak for his personality. He’s more outgoing, more open. And unfortunately, more obnoxious at times. Right now you get a good look at the fox tattoo that covers his left thigh. It peaks out through one of the arguably too big holes in his jeans. He definitely picked them out on purpose.

When you turn back to look at Jungkook, your eyes meet his and you’re not prepared. A lump forms in your throat as his eyes seem stone cold. There’s no smirk, no flirtatious glint. Nothing but what could only be described as anger. “What?” he asks, voice nearly a sneer.

You startle at the harshness, mumbling a quiet ‘nothing’ before deciding to just go to the front desk.

The man leaves before your lunch arrives, and at this point you really are starting to get hungry. Jungkook yet again disappears without a word, probably to the lightbox to draw something. Or he’s smoking a cigarette out back. A nasty, nervous habit of his.

Hoseok’s busy doing work on his laptop, when finally, your lunch arrives. It’s just not Yoongi, but Jimin who’s carrying it inside.

“Hey, a little help would be welcome,” Jimin groans as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. Both you and Hoseok scramble up to help before he spills the coffee all over the floor. “Thanks. Yoongi got stuck doing God knows what, so I’m bringing food in his name.” He smiles, lifting your mood as easily as ever. No matter what’s going on, Jimin’s presence is always soothing and bright.

Yoongi had first met the blonde when he started dishwashing at a local restaurant. Now both him and Jimin are leading staff and close friends.

Jimin looks around the shop. “Where’s Kook?”

You suck in your cheek, meeting Jimin’s suspicious gaze. “He’s holed up in the back.”

Jimin’s eyes shift from you to Hoseok, contemplating speaking up.

“You can say it,” you say blandly, “Hoseok knows.”

“Did you talk to him yet?” he whisper-yells. “You’re so lucky I didn’t tell on your ass to Tae. But the next time you ditch me and ignore my calls I will not hesitate to kick your ass myself.”

“What?”

Jimin’s face changes into a glance you know all too well. That specific one which says; are you fucking kidding me? “Do you really think that I didn’t see you and Mr. I don’t wanna fuck Yoongi’s sister, sucking face in the corner?” Your cheeks heat up. “I mean, we all knew he was lying. But that’s not the point.” Jimin presses a finger in your chest. “My point is that the next time the two of you leave to exchange something more than saliva, at least send me a text.” Jimin’s tone is highly accusatory, but he doesn’t seem upset. That’s probably just because he doesn’t know what’s going on. His hand goes into one of the bags, fishing out a pale muffin for himself to eat.

Hoseok coughs, setting his decaf latte back on the desk. “I hate to break it to you Jimin, but that’s not the actual story.”

You want to slap him for exposing you like that. Reaching behind the counter you turn the music up so you can tell Jimin who’s waiting with wide eyes. “Jungkook and I didn’t go home together,” you confess.

“Please don’t tell me you fucked in the ba—“

“JIMIN!” You shove him lightly. “Just — no, okay? We made out and he bolted on me,” you whisper.

Jimin cocks an eyebrow. “That would...explain a lot but also nothing at the same time. Jungkook was pretty out of it yesterday. I mean, he gets like that from time to time, but still. My bet was on the sex being bad. Or like — I don’t know — you saying his dick was small.”

“Okay, okay! We get it!” you hush.

“Get what?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you.

You still, stopping yourself from immediately turning around and meeting his probably cold eyes. Part of you want to say something, anything. But you can’t find the words. Especially when he comes close enough for you to feel the heat of his body radiate to your back. His chest grazes your shoulders as he grabs his drink and food from the desk.

“She and Yoongi had a falling out this morning,” Hoseok says calmly, the saviour of your day. “Nothing big.”

Jimin smiles at Jungkook, but it’s not returned. “Hot chocolate, no whip, one shot of espresso.”

Nothing more than a barely-audible thanks follows. He runs his fingers through his fringe, hair now pulled up in a bun again, before he leaves to continue whatever he was doing.

“Are you really that bad at kissing?” Jimin whispers, making you shove him again.

“Shut up, not you too. This is serious, keep your nosy ass out of it.”

Jimin gasps in offense. “You better remember who brings you lunch.” You roll your eyes. “Also, can I talk to you guys about Tae’s birthday present?”

You hoist yourself onto the desk, nodding as you finally bite into your own muffin.

“Of course, it’s not like any of us know what to get him,” Hoseok adds.

Jimin sighs a little. “He keeps saying that he doesn’t want anything. But I know that isn’t true. It’s just that the one thing he really wants is expensive and I can’t afford it on my own.” The slight tremble to his voice gives him away. He loves Taehyung, would do anything for him. You know that Hoseok would be here to help, so are you. “He has a tattoo, he wants to get it covered up. But Jungkook’s told him that he has to get it laser-treated first because it's pretty big and dark. I looked it up and it’s not cheap. I just don’t want you guys to think that I’m taking advantage of you or something. I just...”

Hoseok pipes up before Jimin can even properly finish. “I’m sure that if we all chip in it’ll be good. Plus, Jungkook and I would totally do the cover-up for free. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be worth it. You agree, Y/N?”

You nod. You've never seen Taehyung's tattoo, and you know Jimin's not going to go into details, but you understand him wanting to get rid of it. It's his last tie to his past. “Yeah, I’ll chip in. Just send us how much it is and we’ll figure it out Jimin.”

Jimin just about bursts at the seams from happiness. He hugs both of you so tight, whispering a dozen thank you’s as he does. “It’ll mean so much to him!” His eyes flicker to the clock. “By the way, before I go. Hoseok, have you and Yoongi finally told Jungkook about the two of you fucking and all?”

Hoseok grimaces. “We’re dating, Jimin. Stop putting it like that.”

“Potato, potato.”

“We didn’t tell him,” Hoseok confesses.

“What?” You and Jimin say at the same time.

Hoseok sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yoongi got cold feet. Again.”

Jimin is silent, brows furrowing before his lips part in realisation. “Oh...OH!” He almost starts laughing. “I know what’s going on here. I see, I see.”

You frown at him, looking at Hoseok for an answer but he seems equally confused.

“Girl, you gotta talk to Jungkook. This? It’s all a huge misunderstanding. Just talk to him, you’ll be fine. Trust me.” The giggle in his voice makes you a little angry. He could just tell you, but he’s halfway out the door before you even get the chance to ask. “Also, you,” he says pointing at Hoseok, “make  sure you tell Jungkook about you and Yoongi before he finds out like me and Tae. Meaning with you three knuckles deep in Yoongi’s ass.”

“Okay!” Hoseok calls, somewhat flustered as he gets up. “You’ve said enough for today, don’t you have customers to yell at?”

Jimin laughs, giving you one more glance. “If you and you-know-who end up having some r-rated sessions, please use protection.”

“OUT!” you and Hoseok yell in unison, causing Jimin to quickly slip away before you can properly shove him out the door yourself.

Jimin really seemed to be one step ahead of you, and you hate it. Though his gut was usually right so maybe you should trust him that it’ll all be okay. Hoseok said the same thing after all.

The rest of your day goes by fairly smoothly. A few walk-ins but nothing special. Jungkook quietly works with his back to you, and Hoseok does his best to start some sort of conversation. It dead-ends each time.

When Hoseok is getting ready to leave, your nerves feel like they’re going to burst from your body. Literally. You don’t know if you can do this. Talk to Jungkook. He’s been stone cold the entire day, not a single word where it wasn’t absolutely necessary. You’ve never seen him like this, even Hoseok started to become a victim of his wrath. Jungkook started snapping at him too, causing the elder to just leave him be after a while.

“Listen,” Hoseok says, “I’m going to go, here’s my key in case you need it. Talk to him. Tell me how it goes.”

You whine. “Hobi...”

“No, you’re doing this. I refuse to work with him like this for another fucking second. Just talk. It’s probably nothing.” His voice is stern, and he opens the door to leave. “If it really goes south you can yell at me later. But you have to try.” he goes, leaving you behind in the empty shop unknowingly of what to do.

It can’t be that bad, right? Your hands tremble as you try to take a deep breath. What are you so afraid of? Jungkook rejecting you? Maybe...It would hurt. Everyone would be surprised, that’s for sure. There’s been something oddly specific about how he treats you, looks at you. Jimin’s often referred to it as ‘looking at each other as if you were going to fuck right then and there’.

You take another deep breath. The only way to face the beast is head-on right? Jungkook isn’t gonna hurt you. Worst he could do is yell at you. You can handle that. Right?

With shaking legs you walk into the back, thoughts still running rampant. He’s not at his station. The black chair empty, grey desk neatly cleaned with the dyes organised by colour. Hoseok could take from that.

“Why are you still here?” Jungkook’s voice startles you.

A shiver runs down your spine, the deep drawl echoing in your mind. “I want to talk.” Your voice wavers slightly.

He gives you no chance to face him, scoffing as he walks past you. Not even a glance in your direction. He gathers his pencils that have rolled onto the floor, placing them neatly back on the desk. The black koi fish tattoo on his right shifts as he does. It matches the white one on the left. Yin and Yang, separated. His movements are rough, and he’s rushing through it. Trying to get away.

“Well?” he questions. “Are you going to talk or not?”

The harshness in his voice has you stunned for a moment. “I-I...Jungkook I’m really sorry if I did anything to upset you. I’m not sure what’s going through your mind but, if this is because you didn’t want to kiss me the—“

Jungkook’s hand make a harsh sound as they connect with the surface of the desk. “Is this a game to you?” He looks at you — glares. Angers rolls off his shoulders that are coiled tight

“What?”

“You heard me,” he all but growls. “Do you think this is a joke?” Jungkook looks away, eyes closing with a deep, barely-controlled breath. It shudders through him.

Your hands are clenched tightly, they ache to touch him. To smooth down over the expanse of his back in an attempt to comfort him. “If I thought this was funny I wouldn’t be here trying to talk to you.”

“Fuck.” The words fall from his lips right before his teeth sink into them. His fingers squeak over the desk’s surface. When he looks up at you, you expect to see the anger. The disgust. However, you don’t expect it to be in the shape of tears glistening in his eyes as he struggles to even look at you for more than a few seconds. “Stop being like this, okay? We both know that what we did was wrong. It’s eating me alive and you know what — I can’t deal with it any longer.” Jungkook reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with so much force it collides with his back. Yet, you don’t miss the tremble in his other hand. “I’m giving you one day to tell him. Otherwise I’ll do it myself.”

You frown, quickly following him towards the front. “Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook stops in his tracks, causing you to almost bump into him. “Yoongi?” He’s seething with anger. It’s hot, burning your skin and making your throat constrict. “I’m talking about us nearly fucking while you’re obviously in a relationship with Hoseok.”

Silence. Minutes seem to tick by as you take in his words. “What?”

A last time, he turns. The look he gives you is nothing short of pure, unfiltered disgust. “You know what? I’m so done with you.” He shakes his head. “You know I like you, everyone knows it. And we were both wrong here. But I can’t cope with the fact that I had my best friend’s girlfriend moaning in my lap two nights ago.” Jungkook’s words are painfully sharp, but they don’t seem to only affect you. He’s hurting himself unnecessarily. “If he hates me after this that’s fine, but someone has to tell him.”

“Kook,” you try, tears brimming your own eyes. But he doesn’t hear you.

“It’s bad enough that everyone seemed to know about you two except for me. And if you were trying to protect me then I can try to understand, but I can see the signs you know? I’m not fucking blind. Hoseok’s always going home with you. He spends three nights a week at your apartment at the very least. And even around here the two of you have gotten disgustingly close. Hell, Y/N, you were half naked in here with him before business hours as if it’s the most normal thing. I don’t even want to entertain the idea of the two of you fucking in here. This isn’t r—“

“STOP!” you yell, hands coming up to cover your ears. “Just, stop!”

Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut as he stares at you. Your mind is going a hundred miles an hour. He thinks you and Hoseok are together. Jungkook thinks that you and Hoseok are dating, because Yoongi never told him that he's the one dating Hoseok. That it’s his bed Hoseok is sleeping it. Yoongi never even told him that he’s into guys. Jungkook has no reason to entertain the idea of you not being the reason that Hoseok was over at your apartment. He went with the logical option. That you and Hoseok are an item.

“It’s...”

You want to tell him. It’d be an easy way out to tell him Yoongi is dating Hoseok. That Hoseok wasn't sleeping in your bed. But you can’t do that to your brother. You can’t out him, it’s wrong. The only chance you can take is hoping Jungkook will believe your word.

“I’m not dating Hoseok,” you say as calmly as you can.

He scoffs, loud. Nostrils flaring as he reaches for the door handle.

Fingers circling around his other arm, you stop him. Causing him to quickly shrug you off as if you’d burnt him.

“Don’t fucking touch me. It’s bad enough we did this. I don’t need you lying to me about it.”

You shake your head, almost reaching out for him again in your panic. “Just...hear me out. If you really like me as much as you say. If you believe that I like you too. Hear me out.” There’s one other way out of this. One other person he would believe. “Please Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He wavers. Caves. “Fine.”

Relief floods your veins, and you sink back against the counter. “Okay, I’m going to call Hoseok.” You grab your phone from your pocket, fingers sliding over the screen shakily. “Just—“

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“HEY!” you call, causing him to startle. “You’re sitting your fucking ass down. It’s not my fault that you’re not willing to believe me and decided to get worked up over some imaginary scenario.” Your voice is barely a growl but it pushes him enough to finally get his hand off the doorknob. “Sit. The fuck. Down.”

He swallows thickly, and your chest heaves with anger. To your surprise, he actually slumps down onto the couch without another word.

“I’m gonna call Hobi, and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut until I’m finished.” No words come from him, but the scowl on his face says enough. Hoseok’s picture pops up with you dial him, and you take the time to steady yourself. This has to work.

“Did you two finally figure out your bullshit?” Hoseok asks the second he picks up.

The nerve. “You gotta help me out here.” You hold the phone steady, putting him on speaker as you look straight at the man across from you while speaking. “Do you remember when I explicitly told you this morning — in all glorious details — about Jungkook and I making out?”

There’s a clear shift in Jungkook’s expression. Eyebrows raising ever so slightly. His red bitten lips parting.

“Yes — Wait,” Hoseok stumbles. “Am I on speaker? Why am I on speaker? I want no part in this!”

“Hobi!” He needs to listen to you and help. “Please just tell your friend that you and I are not fucking.”

The first sound that comes from the other end of the line is a loud snort. Followed by hysterical laughter. “Oh. My. God.” This situation isn't funny to you nor Jungkook, but you suppose that Hoseok comes across very authentic like this. One day you’ll probably laugh about this too. “Jungkook, sweetheart,” he laughs. “You really gone and cockblocked yourself because you thought I was dating her?”

Jungkook's eyes are now wide with confusion, body sunk deeply into the leather couch as his gaze is unfocused. “You’re...not?”

“No offense to Y/N,” Hoseok says with laughter still ringing his voice, “but absolutely not.”

“None taken,” you state dryly, “thank you.”

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he stands up slowly, leaving his bag on the couch. His tongue presses into his cheek, running under his top lip where you know he hides one of his many piercings. The change in his body language is evident, and you shiver as he looks at you.

Hoseok sighs dramatically. “No problem. I’m getting used to saving your guys’ day. Now can you two please fuck out your frustrations so that I can work and live in peace. Use protection. Cheers!”

The line ends before you can say another word to him. When you finally glance up at Jungkook again, he’s closer than you thought.

He stands barely a foot away, eyes curiously meeting yours. Scanning your face for any type of reaction, waiting. His hands hang limp by his side, shoulder no longer bunched but...Something about him is still taut. “You’re not dating Hoseok?” he asks, voice unexpectedly deep.

“No,” you breathe softly, unable to look away from him. From this angle you can see his eyebrow piercing where it hides under his fringe. You can see his eyes darken too.

“You’re single?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a quick flash of gold.

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

Jungkook steps that much closer, toes bumping yours as he lowers his face. His breathing is heavy, chest almost brushing yours as he corners you against the desk. “And I can have you?”

“All yours.”

Everything is forgotten from there. Jungkook’s hands fly up to cup your face, tilting you up so he can capture your mouth with his. You groan, deeply relieved at the contact. Jungkook has no reservations. No, within seconds you find yourself with one of his thighs snugly between yours and his tongue pushing past your lips.

Fuck. The feeling of his piercing pressing against your tongue still takes you by surprise. You shiver with excitement. Your fingers grapple for purchase at his shoulders.

Jungkook moans, a sound that’s silenced by you kissing him back. It’s messy, you can feel his heart hammer in his chest and yours is no different. As he explores your mouth with his tongue, your fingers tug his shirt from his jeans. You graze the warm skin of his waist and back.

As his hands grab your hips possessively, your toes curl. There’s no time to breathe. All you can manage is a pathetic whimper when Jungkook bites down on your lip and runs his tongue across it. Kissing him is oddly foreign, in the most delicious way.

Diving in again, Jungkook grants you more leverage to kiss him back. One of your hands slide into his hair, reaching on your tiptoes to do so. There’s a brief smile from him. Followed by him hoisting you up on the counter without breaking the kiss. No, you’re too busy tracing the piece of jewellery in his mouth as it clacks against your teeth.

It’s wet. Sloppy. And you’re certain that it’s noisy. But all you can hear right now is the rushing of your heart and the rough sounds that come from him. He parts your thighs, pressing himself right up against your centre and — fuck. It’s just right, the way he presses the seam of your jeans into you.

Your mouth falls from him, unable to stave off your air for any longer. Jungkook seems unfazed, tongue tracing your bottom lip to break the string of saliva that connected you. “Kook,” you breathe heavily.

He smirks, nosing along your cheekbone as your nails digging into his back. Tantalised, you hold your breath. Expecting the harsh graze of his teeth just below your jaw. You know it’ll mark, especially when he presses his lips over the same sport and suckles at it until you're shaking in his hold.

By now his hands have slipped under your shirt, fingers digging into your bare waist. His fingertips are rough, like everything about him but his lips. They’re soft and you hate it. He shouldn’t be allowed to kiss you like this.

Still, you let him kiss back up to your lips. You moan into him. The way he passes any of the kisses and hesitation. He licks into your mouth like you’ve been doing this for ages. Tongue gliding along yours, making you want more. You will need it, when he parts. Ache for his mouth again as you pull him unimaginably closer.

A moan falls from both of you as you grind down, and somehow it pulls you back to reality. The reality where you’re sitting on the front desk of the shop. Right by the windows. Where everyone can see.

The reality where Jungkook yelled at you mere minutes ago.

“Jungkook,” you whisper against his mouth. A shiver rakes through your body when he moves to kiss your neck. “Jungkook, stop.”

Those words stop him immediately. He looks up. “Everything okay?” His chest rises and falls against yours.

You nod, placing your hands firmly on his chest. The accidental brush of your palm against one of his piercing causes his breath to hitch. “Just,” you eyes flicker between where he stands between your legs and the large, open windows, “maybe we shouldn’t...you know?”

Jungkook’s hands smooth down your arms, sending goosebumps in his wake. “This is not the part where I tell you we can go to the back. Is it?”

“No,” you whisper.

When his hands fall from your body, you feel cold, empty. You reach for him, grabbing him by the wrist. “Hey, I want this. But maybe we need to let everything cool down a little.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, lips swollen, hair a mess. “Yeah.” His voice is firm, paired with a deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry. For getting so mad at you, I should’ve asked before making assumptions.”

A smile tugs at your lips. You hop off the counter, leaning up to press your lips against his. “It’s alright. No hard feelings.” saying that, you feel relieved from all the tension. Knowing that Jungkook wants you — likes you — makes your stomach flutter.

“Can I get a ride?” Jungkook grimaces at the pouring rain. “I don’t want to get soaked again.”

“Yeah of course, silly.”

To be honest, it was a futile attempt. Both of you don’t make it to the car with a single dry inch on your body. You just hope it’s not going to ruin your seats, that’d be an expensive joke.

Jungkook coughs when you start the engine, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. You turn to give him a look, but there’s no way for you to miss the obvious erection he's sporting.

“Are you really hard right now?”

“I’m still hard, for your information.” He groans, letting his head fall back. “It’ll go away.” The smile that stretches over his lips it too telling. “Or you can help me.” It’s barely a mumble but you can catch it.

“Jungkook!” you spit.

“I know, I know.”

There’s a calm mood in your apartment, Yoongi’s music softly emanating from his room next to yours. Not a single fibre in your body wants to have this conversation with him. Not again. But you have to. Even if it’s for the fact that you need to let him know he doesn’t have to lie to you about these things. That you’re not disappointed in him.

“Hey, you’re home late. I was starting to get worried about you.” Yoongi appears from his room, already dressed in black sweats and an oversized grey sweater. “Everything okay?”

You want to nod, but choose not to. “Can we talk?”

He freezes up, fingers clenching into fists. “Why?”

Because you lied to me. Because you didn’t tell Jungkook and it almost ruined my chances with him as a result. “Just please sit, so we can talk. I promise I’m not mad at you, Yoon.” The nickname seems to be enough incentive for him to nod and take a hesitant seat at your small dining table.

You sit across from him, chest heavy and uncertain of whether this is the right moment to do this. He nervously traces the pattern of the worn down, brown table, his sleeve tattoo peeking out as he does.

“Yoongi, why did you lie to me about coming out to Jungkook?”

Abruptly, he stills. “Did Hobi tell you?”

“How I found out doesn’t matter right now okay. I just want to know why you weren’t honest about it with me.” You watch your older brother as he avoids your gaze. He sinks back into his chair and purses his lips.

Part of you feels like hugging him, telling him it’s okay. But it’s not. Not really. Your brother has been through so much, and you understand this is hard for him. That your parents basically casting him out is why he is so afraid that everybody will reject him. But logically he should know that Jungkook won’t care that he’s gay. Taehyung is, and they’ve been friends for almost their entire lives. Hoseok and Jimin as bi. Jungkook might be the straightest guy you know, but that doesn’t say much.

“Yoongi, I’m not mad at you. You can be honest with me, I want to help.”

“I’m scared,” he says, very matter-of-factly. “I’m scared. That’s it. I don’t have any other real excuse.”

“That’s not an excuse, Yoongi. It’s a legitimate reason for not telling him, regardless of how often Hoseok and I have told you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Yoongi shakes his head, black hair falling into his eyes. Still, he avoids your gaze. “I was scared that you’d be disappointed. That’s why I haven’t told you.”

“Yoongi...” Your heart aches for him. Even through this, your brother has always been the bravest person you know. He’s built what he has from nothing. He was merely sixteen when he moved out, barely had a degree. You were just eighteen when you showed up on his doorstep unannounced with a suitcase and a request to move in with him. He’d fought so hard to make ends meet for both of you until you’d found a job. Yoongi’s always fought for you. You just wish he’d fight for himself too. “I would never be disappointed with you. Ever.”

He finally looks at you, tears showing at the corners of his eyes. They shine regardless, as he look at you as if you’re his only lifeline. “Don’t you want me to tell him?”

You take Yoongi’s hand from where it lies limply on the table. The small sun tattoo stands out against the bare skin of his wrist. It matches the moon on yours.

Rubbing you finger over his tattoo, you speak to him softly: “I do want you to tell him, but not for me. Or for Hoseok. I want you to tell him for yourself. Once you’ve told him I think you will feel much better. You and Hobi won’t have to hide anymore, and you’ll all be able to be comfortable around each other.” You squeeze his hand. “It’ll give you strength, Yoongi. Telling people instead of letting them find out.”

A tear slips from his eyes, and you hold your breath awaiting his answer. This is why you’ve always looked up to Yoongi. He’s not afraid to show his emotions to those he trusts, even if he trusts a very small number of people. Yoongi is the one who showed you that it’s okay to not be okay, hence the moon tattoo on your own wrist. He has the sun, to signify that you’re the brightness in his days. Or well, that’s how he said it.

“Will you go with me?” he asks. “To tell him?”

It might not be the greatest idea, especially since you and Jungkook are in whatever situation you are in now. But also because this is technically not something that concerns you. If he wants you to go, you’ll go, but there’s a better choice. “I think you should ask Hoseok. That way you can kill two birds with one stone.”

“You really think so?”

You nod.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing your hand and squeezing it in return. “Thank you. For always being here to remind me of how stupid I am.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that,” you chuckle.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You were thinking it.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Am not!”

“Are too, Yoongi. It’s a bad habit.”

“It’s a bad habit,” he mocks with a scrunched up face. “Whatever, I’ll call Hoseok tonight.”

You smile. “Promise?”

“On one condition.”

With both eyebrows raised you await his condition that will most likely make you want to strangle him. You know your brother. His requests are never to make you comfortable. If anything he’s relentlessly able to tease you just enough to make you want to murder him, but not enough to actually justify it. A skill to behold.

“Please tell me whether you coming home an hour late and that disgustingly obvious hickey on your neck are in any way related.”

Your stomach jumps at his comment, hand immediately covering  the spot under your ear where Jungkook had laid his claim. “I...”

He gives you a knowing look. If one thing was true about Yoongi it’s that he knows you, through and through. You and him are like peas in a pod and sadly there’s not much wiggle room in said pod. Said pod left no space for you to hide your obvious attraction to his friend.

“Oh God, Y/N,” Yoongi gives you a disgusted look. “No. Not at the shop. I know that Hoseok and Jungkook clean that place religiously, but still. I sit on those stools too! You heathens.”

Your face is red hot as you try to find the words before he can get any more ideas. “We — no, we didn’t fuck, okay. Please just calm down.”

Yoongi sighs, a breath of relief. “Good, because like — I’ve eaten at those tables. I don’t need to accidentally touch Jungkook’s lefto—“

“OKAY! I get it, I get it! We didn’t fuck. I swear.”

“Wait. Not at all?”

“Nope.”

He groans, throwing his head back. “Does that mean I need to sit through another week of gruelling sexual tension. Do I really need to be subjected to this another week? Like I have an actual fear that the two of you will at one point climb over the table and devour each other while I’m right there!”

You get up. “Okay, this conversation is over.” Honestly, you would tell him what actually happened this afternoon. About Jungkook thinking you cheated on Hoseok. But telling your brother that will just make him fear that Jungkook’s already figured out that him and Hoseok are together. “It’s your day to cook today, by the way.”

Then, he pouts. “Hey, no! I was sad today, can’t you cook? I deserve comfort food!” As a grown man, your brother’s ability to whine about little things is slightly concerning. But he will only do so at his advantage. No, whenever a time comes that Min Yoongi must adult on you, he will be an adult. And when he wants things from you, he will whine.

“Not after you called me a heathen,” you sing-song. A kiss to the top of his head and a ruffle to his already messy hair is enough to send him into a fit.

“I’m older than you! Only older siblings get to ruffle heads!”

“I’m in the mood for beef stir-fry. Oh,” you say, turning around to look at his offended form in the kitchen, “don’t forget to call Hoseok while you’re at it. If you don’t,” you smile, “I will let Jungkook fuck me,” pause, narrowing your eyes, “on our kitchen counter.”

Utter scandalisation, Yoongi’s mouth falls open. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I don’t know, Jungkook seems like a guy who’s up for anything. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Next Wednesday, you and Yoongi are arguably late to Taehyung’s birthday dinner at Hoseok and Jungkook’s apartment. Not that it’s a problem though. Jimin’s still fussing around in the kitchen with Hoseok’s help and Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

Jungkook, who’d been hitting up your phone the entirety of the two days you hadn’t seen each other. Including various attempts of sexting that you had to shut down because you were either in class or with your brother.

“Finally, Yoongi, I need your help.” Hoseok turns, hands covered in what appears to be some red marinade. “Come here.”

You smile as Hoseok kisses Yoongi before anything else. It’s good to know that they can now be themselves. The two hadn’t wasted another day to tell Jungkook about their relationship. He took it well. Aside from sending you a very exasperated text about the whole ordeal, calling himself a dumbfuck. Something you wholeheartedly agreed to.

Jimin’s busy chopping something, and you can just see the glint of silver ring that sits snugly around his bottom lip. He can’t wear it to work, the same way your brother has to take out his nose ring every time.

Yoongi’s commitment to Hoseok had been clear when he’d taken out both his lip piercings for his boyfriend. The other’s terrible fear of the things made kissing a bit of an issue. It was how you knew that even through their fighting, they’d be in for the long run. Especially because Hoseok decided to learn to live with Yoongi’s nose ring.

Taehyung’s reading a book in the living room, he hasn’t acknowledged your presence yet. Jimin apparently gave him all hell for being so rude to you, so you hope he’s not mad with you anymore.

“Oh,Y/N,” Hoseok says suddenly. “Kook’s probably in the bathroom.”

You frown. “Okay?”

The redhead gives you a flat expression. “You’ve been standing in the middle of the room for the past five minutes. Just go and talk to him or something.” He realises his words. “No, not or something. Only talking!” he calls after you. “No fucking in my bathroom!”

You wave him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

True to Hoseok’s words, Jungkook is in the bathroom that hides in the back of their apartment. The open door lets you quietly peek around the corner. What you find is a little more than you bargained for.

Jungkook stands in front of the mirror. Clad in ripped, black skinny jeans and a deep maroon and black flannel with what seems to be Urban Outfitters version of tribal designs on the sleeves. Said shirt hangs open, and the way he has his hands in his hair to pull it up leaves no inch of his toned chest covered.

Your own stomach flutters as his abdominal muscles shift. His nipple piercings glimmer in the harsh lighting. The way they had felt against your own chest Monday — you remember. You remember how he’d kissed you, held you, ground against you. How h—

“Hello to you too,” he chuckles with a bobby pin between his teeth. His eyes hold nothing similar to the softness of that chuckle.

Once you gaze up from his lips you find his eyes heavy — dark — as he takes you in. This is familiar, this gaze. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that you struggle to repress.

“Hey,” you breathe, voice low. There’s nothing to be ashamed about, he’s openly letting you watch him. The way he smiles, exposing the piercing under his top lip, says that he’s enjoying it. Loves it. You’re certainly not going to complain.

Not with the way you can see every muscle in his torso as he moves, struggling to get the small pin into his mess of black hair. His skin is almost golden in this light. Warm, enticing. You yearn to touch him. Trail your fingers down his pectorals and feel the ridges of his abs. Hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Pull him against you. Kiss him.

Jungkook’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, faint dimples appearing in his cheeks. He’s no longer watching you watching him. But he can feel your lingering stares. It’s evident in the way he takes his time. How he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders to expose the large, intricate dragon tattoo that curls around his bicep. Every scale is detailed as it’s wing spread over his shoulder for the head to rest on his collarbone.

The longer you watch, the further your mind drifts. Thinking of kissing that exact spot where his collarbone dips, tracing your tongue up to sink your teeth into the skin of his earlobe. What sound would he make? Jungkook has proven to be a moaner, but there might be more than meets the eye.

You know he’s rough. The feeling of his fingers digging into your hips had lasted for long after you’d parted. You know that the sounds he makes go straight to your core. How he growls, groans, grits his teeth. His —

His tongue piercing.

The glint of it in the light catches your eye. You’re drawn to it. How such a small thing could have this effect on you. He knows how to use it and you haven't even felt the worst. The quirk of his eyebrow as he exposes it purposely tells you that much. He’s taunting you.

Your entire mouth goes dry when he scrapes his teeth over his lip again, holding your gaze steady through the mirror. Chest rising with a shaky breath on your part, he ever so slightly tilts his head. A smirk paired with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What?” Your stomach flutters.

He shakes his head with a lopsided smile. When he turns you come face to face with his chest. It’s not as easy to openly stare this directly. Without the barrier of the mirror your words are lost to you.

You swallow, following his hands as they start to button his shirt. A sight that’s equally enticing and saddening. Watching the stretch of his chest disappear behind the fabric, narrow waist no longer apparent. You can’t help but notice the roughness of his fingers. You’ve felt it. They’re calloused, never used sparingly for anything. A small tattoo hides there, one not easily spotted with how the koi fish draw all attention to them.

Euphoria is etched into the side of his middle finger. A tattoo you’ve seen time and time again, but you don’t know it’s meaning. The dragon symbolises strength, power, will, and the koi fish represent balance. He’s even spoken to you about the tarot cards on the inside of his upper arm, that one drunken night in your living room. The reverse magician for untapped potential, the upright eight of pentacles for mastery and honing skills. Yet, the small word on his finger raises a question for you.

Jungkook suddenly grabs you. You would’ve screamed if his mouth didn’t silence you.

He shuts the door behind you, pressing you against it with enough force to knock the breath from your chest. Tongue licking into your mouth you mewl, grappling for something to hold onto. Your fingers automatically loop into his belt.

With a hand behind your head he angles you up, grants himself access to your warm mouth. You arch into him, every nerve on edge. Every sound distorted by the way he kisses you so deeply you can barely fight for control. No, he’s got you in the palm of his hand, literally. One hand sliding to your ass, digits slipping into your pockets to hold you tight.

Jungkook lets out a deep sound, one that rumbled in his chest and pulls an equally ruined moan from you. His lips are pressing, demanding, speaking ‘you are mine’ into yours. ‘I want you. Now’.

Still stunned, you tighten your fingers into his belt, trying to kiss him back but getting lost in his ministrations. The leather material is tough, but you manage to get him closer. A thigh between yours, you shift your hips up to find friction for both of you.

The kiss is beyond messy. Both needy for oxygen but needier for each other. Breaths mingle and the way he runs his tongue over your top teeth causes a lewd yet startling sound.

“Fuck,” you grumble, breaking from him suddenly.

His eyes remain closed as he licks his lips. “I’ll second that statement,” he whispers hotly, “sitting on the sink or bent over it?”

You choke on your own spit, causing him to finally open his eyes and come back from wherever his mind had wandered. “Jungkook!”  

“What? That was a very serious statement.”

“Not with everybody on the other side of the door!”

He grins, tonguing his smiley piercing in a habit that has driven you crazy so often. “Fine.” Straightening up, he swiftly tucks his shirt back into his jeans where it’d come undone under your hands. “Just so you know,” he says, leaning into your ear and opening the door, “all you gotta do is say the word and my room’s right there. I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.”

All the hair on the back of your neck springs up at his words. The way his breath fans out over your ear, lips just shy of grazing you. Tongue darting out, brushing the shell of your ear. You have no reply but a shaky intake of breath.

He leaves, and you’re left to stare at your disheveled form in the large mirror. Hair tangled, you curse under your breath. Jungkook probably won’t mind if you borrow his brush if he has no problems basically swallowing you whole, right?

With the hair at the back of your head finally in place again, you shake your feelings. You can't let Jungkook just play you like that with no repercussions. Two can play this game.

This is how you find yourself walking back into the room, briefly receiving a knowing look from Jimin. You pay him no mind. All you do is glance at the obvious space beside your brother and Hoseok, who now sit at ease in each other’s embrace. Yet, there’s one spot that’s more inviting.

Jungkook knows what you’re up to as soon as you look at him. He narrows his eyes, but you unsuspiciously smile as you take place in his lap as if it’s the most normal thing to do.

Everybody is thinking something, briefly glancing at how you comfortably shift on his thighs. Jungkook himself is less displeased than you’d thought, one hand coming to rest on your leg. Beneath you, you can feel the hard muscles of his thighs and you wonder what it’d be like to ride them.

“Now that everybody is here,” Jimin says, “we can finally do what we came here to do.”

All eyes turn to Taehyung, who gives a deep annoyed sigh. You all know there’s no way around Jimin’s plans. What Jimin wants, Jimin gets. That includes Taehyung, Gucci slippers, and the present that will make his boyfriend very happy even though he’d never admit it. It doesn’t come wrapped in anything big. And as to Taehyung’s wishes, there’s also no singing happy birthday. But the light blue envelope which Jimin retrieves from his bag are enough to make the other’s eyes grow wide like saucers.

Taehyung’s name is written on the front, and he looks at it as if it’s foreign. “I said I didn’t want anything.”

Jungkook fingers suddenly start moving — possibly absentmindedly — trailing the outer edge of your jeans. It tickles. His other hand is placed beside him, keeping him steady as he supports you. There’s enough room for you to squirm but you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Or the fact that Jungkook is nosing the back of your neck and shoulders. His breath fanning down your shirt and over your back.

“You did say that,” Jimin says, pecking Taehyung’s lips. “But you also said there is something you do want. You just didn’t mention it in regards to your birthday.”

The younger man frowns, sitting up a little straighter and running a nervous hand through his black hair. “Jimin.”

“It’s a present from all of us, Tae,” Jungkook speaks up, fingers falling from your leg.

The second everyone looks away again from the man who’s currently trailing his lips dangerously close to your skin, you shift. Immediately Jungkook’s hands reach for your hips that now sit flush with his. There’s no space left and he can’t do much more than rest his chin on your shoulder with a trembling breath.

You try to concentrate on Taehyung opening the envelope. Somebody speaks, but you don’t catch it over Jungkook’s quiet swear.

“I...” Taehyung’s uncertainty shows, frowning at the piece of paper. Reading every word carefully at least twice. “What is this?” He looks up, giving everyone the same confused expression. Jimin’s sitting on the armrest beside him, trying his hardest to hold back the tears.

Luckily, Hoseok hasn’t lost his ability to speak. Unlike Jungkook who’s gripping your hips like a vice. “Jimin told us that you’ve been wanting to get a tattoo removed and covered. So we all chipped in to get you a laser-removal appointment.”

Taehyung’s still looking at the paper as if it might catch on fire, but he nods quietly. “You all did this? For me?”

Jimin makes an excited noise. “He means to say thank you.” He grabs his boyfriend, kissing him firmly on the cheek, mumbling a congratulations amidst the embrace. “We all want you to be happy, Tae.”

The man nods again. “Thank you, really.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Hoseok gets up first. Preventing the disaster of things getting uncomfortable and preventing Taehyung from shedding the obvious tears that brim his eyes. “Okay, let's all eat. Come on.”

Getting up, Jungkook’s hands stop you immediately. He keeps you tight, grumbling for you to stay put. You chuckle. Talking big game, sure. But his amusement has faded now that you have returned the favour. He doesn’t let go until everyone’s turned to the table.

You stand, swing in your step. Only turning around to catch Jungkook untucking his shirt to shield his very obvious erection from view.

“Really, Jeon?” you whisper with a giggle.

He clicks his tongue. “You want to tell me you’re not wet right now?”

You look straight at him as you lie: “I am not.”

Jungkook merely smirks, starting towards the table but stopping to whisper: “Good girls don’t tell lies.”

You shiver, breath hitching as you watch him sit down as if he hadn’t just said that. Getting on the upper hand on this guy is impossible, he’s just prepared to go one step further every time. But you’re not ready to give up just yet.

As much as you lied. As much as your need for him is rapidly increasing. You’re not going to let those words sink in. If anything you can prove him wrong. Good girl. What a joke. Maybe.

Everybody sits, chatting comfortably as the table-top grills warm up. An array of food sits on the large table. Chicken, beef, squid, side-dishes, Taehyung’s favourite red bean paste, and Jimin’s home-made secret-recipe dipping sauce. There’s way too much food, but nobody will complain about that.

“Hey Jungkook,” Jimin starts, “how is that whole situation with the guy from Australia going?”

Jungkook sighs. “Not too great to be fair, it’s nearly impossible to find a proper date that suits us both.” For the past two months Jungkook’s been trying to get an internship with an artist he admires. They’ve gotten in touch through instagram, and he’s been beyond excited. Talks of him going to Australia for a month keep getting more serious.

“You’re not going,” Hoseok says with a mouth full of food, “unless you’re trading with someone. I can’t man the shop alone and you know it. It’ll be bad for business.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook shrugs it off. “Anyway, he said it’ll most likely happen next summer if anything. We will see.”

Yoongi coughs, sipping water to rinse down the extensive spices. “Jimin, that sauce of yours. It gets me every time.”

“It’s good!” you and Jungkook interject in unison, causing everybody to shoot you a weird look.

“What?” you question. “Actually, give me some more.” You lean over, firmly planting your hand on Jungkook’s thigh without thinking about it. Leaning over, It lands closely enough to the top that you can feel that he’s still hard — if not harder than before.

He chokes on his food, taking a deep breath through his nose.

You sit back down, but your hand remains in position. His thigh tenses under your touch, warm, trembling as you drag your nails up like he’d done to you earlier. Whatever conversation currently plays goes straight in one ear and out the other for you. One hand busy dipping slightly charred chicken into the small bowl of red sauce, the other squeezing Jungkook’s leg.

He can’t do anything. Not without making it obvious what you’re doing. So he shifts, legs falling open and giving you access you weren’t expecting. Possibly on accident. Or in the hopes that you will actually touch him. Your heart races, but your body gets the better of you. As does your curiosity.

The second your fingers touch the head of his dick through his jeans, he jerks. Sitting up straight and snapping his legs closed.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung questions.

You shoot him an equally confused look, playing your part. “Everything okay?”

From the other end of the table Jimin looks at you with raised eyebrows. A gesture which you return with glee.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, “just bit my tongue.”

Smooth. Either everyone believes him, or they all know but unanimously decide to not speak and continue the dinner as normal. Even Jungkook seems to have decided to not reciprocate your touch this time. Both hands above the table, sitting with his legs spread as before.

You cross yours, realising that you are still turned on as you do. “So, now that everybody knows about how Hoseok is dating my brother. Can I like ask for asylum so that I won’t have to get my ears assaulted anymore?”

Jimin snorts. “You poor thing.” He raises his chopsticks, pointing at Jungkook. “I’m certain you can arrange something with him. You know. You sleep with him, Hoseok sleeps with Yoongi.” No filter. Jimin’s absolute inability to not say certain things strikes again. Your cheeks run red.

To your surprise, Jungkook doesn't react.

“Okay,” Yoongi interjects. “Can we please not talk about my little sister having sex.”

“Hey!” You point your utensils at him. “I’ve had to listen to Hoseok literally pound you into the mattress more times than I’m comfortable to admit. You guys have no decency, why should I—“

Jungkook’s fingers snaking into your waistband shuts you up. “How about we just don’t talk about people fucking at the dinner table. I mean we—“

“You’re one to speak Jeon!” Hoseok cuts in. “I’ve heard you often enough. I’m not sure what kinda shit you’re into but she should consider this her official warning if you haven’t given her one yet.”

His words don’t quite impact you. Not with the way that Jungkook starts gently rubbing circles over your exposed hipbone. His fingers still hooked tightly into your jeans, holding you from moving. The touch to your skin is barely there, but it’s enough to put him on your mind the entire time. To make sure you don’t forget the wetness between your legs that he’s causing.

Jungkook is idly engaged in the banter, and all you can think off is his fingers on your skin. What’d be like to feel them elsewhere. Deeper. Rougher.

You uncross your legs, try to relax. To get your mind off the way he tugs you just a little bit closer. Close enough to be able to hook his foot around your ankle and spread your legs wider. Why would he — His hand comes down just above your knee.

Every breath you take is a feat, you’re hyper aware of how you sit, how he touches you. This is payback. He doesn’t move his palm, it just rests there like a threat. Or a claim that you’re his.

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks

You shake awake. “Yeah?”

“I was saying,” he trails, “that once you’re done with school, we could all try to go on a holiday together.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds good. Like, far?”

Everybody starts protesting, complaining about money and fears to fly. Jimin and Taehyung both counter Hoseok’s offer to take a longer flight to a further destination. But Yoongi feels that staying inside the country defeats the purpose of a holiday.

You? You just want Jungkook to take his hand off your leg. Not slowly start trailing it up, but there’s no stopping him. Not without swatting at him, or likely trapping his hand between your thighs. The latter situation seems too dangerous.

So you let Jungkook move his hand agonisingly slow until it reaches the juncture of your thighs. Here, he stops.

Luckily you’re not the only one who still feels like they’re bursting at the seams. Jungkook’s still hard, bouncing one of his legs and shifting in his seat twice before suddenly getting up.

He excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but not before trailing a finger along the back of your collar. Little shit. Is he really going to rub one out in the bathroom right now?

Your mind immediately wanders to the visual. Jungkook standing over the bathroom sink, gripping it hard as the other hand slides up and down his length in fast, practiced motions.

Jimin distracts you from this though, asking you about your current study. You do your best to give him coherent answers, but your mind keeps floating back to Jungkook. Dampness between your legs growing fast.

Should you go after him? Maybe that’s what he wants. His earlier offer ringing through your mind, “I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.” Crossing your legs again gives you some friction. Core throbbing even though he’s barely touched you over the course of an hour.

You’re so worked up that when he finally returns you can feel the heft of his eyes on you. He doesn’t touch you, but his presence alone is enough to make you tense. The feeling of anticipation sits heavy in your stomach. It makes you jittery, in a good way. but you’re oh so impatient, fingers itching to touch him, feel him, taste him. It’s a thirst.

It distracts you fully from the dessert. When you look over to Jungkook he’s tonguing at his smiley piercing. Quickly, you avert your eyes back to your plate as if it’s gonna burst into pieces if you don’t.

True to character, you end up getting sticky caramel sauce all over the side of your hand. You lick it off, not thinking much of it but aware of how Jungkook’s watching you. No, you can’t eye-fuck him while everybody is there.

Never have you been so relieved for a dinner to end. Everyone’s getting up and helping to get the dishes in the sink. They’ll be washed later, or tomorrow. Now, you‘re going to go out to a local bar. Maybe there you and Jungkook can get some privacy — or get laid. Whichever way you want to put it. At this point you don’t care about where it happens anymore.

Jungkook lingers by the door, purposely waiting for everybody to leave the apartment under the pretence of having to lock the door. Yet the second the door just falls closed, the first thing he does is grab and entire handful of your ass and squeezes. Hard.

“Shit.” The words slip from your mouth and everyone turns back to look at you. You stare blankly ahead for a few seconds, Jungkook walking past you. He’s easily stopped by you inconspicuously grabbing the back of his shirt. “Is today the twenty-ninth?”

Yoongi looks at his phone. “Yeah, why?”

The lie is easily constructed. “I have a paper to hand in tomorrow at 10am. Fuck. I forgot to send it in early.” You cast your eyes up towards Jungkook, hoping he catches on. “Can I borrow your laptop? I promise I’ll be fast.”

“Yeah,” he answer quickly, “sure.” Jungkook gives his friends a look. “We’ll be right out, don’t wait up for us.”

The other four men are silent, and you know how fucking stupid you look. How obvious it is. But if anybody dares open their mouth about it, you’ll just admit the truth at this point.

“Okay,” Hoseok shrugs, his answer enough to make the others follow him.

Jungkook’s quick to turn towards the apartment, hands fumbling with the key. Only Jimin turns around to look at you. The blonde wiggles his eyebrows, pushing his tongue in his cheek twice coupled with a swift motion of his hand.

You flip him off, holding up your middle finger and turning back to Jungkook.

The door swings open, your stomach tightening with excitement. Hands slightly trembling from the nerves but you get no time to waste a thought on it. To even think about what’s going to happen.

He’s all over you the second the door falls closed. Barely inside. Kissing open-mouthed, hands fumbling for clothes. He untucks your shirt from your jeans, pushing your cardigan off. You struggle with the buttons on his flannel.

The kiss is filled with impatience. You want this. Now. The sounds that fall from both of you are swallowed by the lewd noises of your tongues. You give him no slack this time. Determined, you press into him, promptly tearing the last two buttons off as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He moans as you trace his tongue piercing — louder when you bite and suck at his bottom lip. You let yourself revel in the sounds just a little, fingers finally tracing the ridges of his abs. Tweaking a nipple piercing, Jungkook lets out the most strangled whine you’ve yet heard from him and you smile into the kiss.

Suddenly you feel your jeans slack against your waist. “Off?” he asks, thumbs already hooked into your waistband. Your own fingers sliding his belt out of the loop.

“Now,” you growl into the kiss.

Your jeans and panties are at your ankles in seconds, and you  kick them to some corner of the hallway. Jungkook doesn’t linger. Doesn’t gaze up at your now fully exposed cunt from his brief position on his knees. He just grabs you by the back of your thighs and hoists you up around his waist when he stands again.

Like this, the rough material of his jeans rubs against you, making you hiss. It’s good, rough, but good. He knows, smirking into another wet, sloppy kiss. You have no mind for the way your teeth clash. Too busy trying to undo his buttons and zipper between your bodies. Like this you can feel your own wetness slip against your wrist.

“I still can’t believe,” Jungkook mumbles, suddenly hoisting you up even further, “that you,” he bites at a nipple through your shirt, “chickened out on the other nipple piercing.”

You let out a dry chuckle that dies off into a string of moans as he pushes up your shirt and starts mouthing at your chest. He pays special attention to the one nipple that’s pierced. Pressing his tongue into it, followed by a breath of cold air. You shiver, toes curling as he holds you tightly against the wall.

“Not every—everybody,” you pant as he teases your nipple with his tongue, flicking it with his piercing, “is into pain like you, Jeon.”

He lets out a short laugh, mumbling something into your breast that sounds like a version of ‘not now,’ as he sucks a bruise into your skin. You must look like a mess, you think as you slide your fingers through his hair. Marks blooming. Bare centre pressed against his abdomen as he's using all his strength to keep you up in this position.

“Jungkook,” you whine, voice pitching a little too high. “Put it in, or I’ll chop it off and show you pain.” Like this, you can’t feel his dick. But you know he’s hard. He still was when you undid his jeans. It must be painful at this point. Especially with how you’re rubbing your wetness all over his stomach.

He groans, bracing a hand against the wall. “Hold on to something.”

You grapple for his shoulder as you tighten your hand around his waist. The other hand finds one of the coat hangers on the wall beside you. “Fuck,” you realise how hard this is. How’s he keeping you up?

Within seconds, Jungkook manages to pull a condom from his back pocket. Uncanny. Prepared and ready to go. You internally praise him for it. He holds you pressed against the wall as he tears it open and slides it on. A pained moan falls as he touches himself after being hard for so long. The sound is delicious, his head falling against your shoulder.

A thin sheen of sweat already coats your bodies. Shirt plastered to your skin, Jungkook’s fringe starting to stick to his forehead. But he shows no mercy.

His hands now come down to your ass, and your arms start shaking from holding yourself up.

The first initial brush of the head of his cock against your centre has you clench up. Excitement rushing through your body. Finally, after hours, days, months, you feel him. You moan. “Jungkook please.” The position doesn’t allow you to shift. To sink down onto him on your own accord.

He knows this. Letting out controlled breaths as he finally starts letting you down. There’s no resistance because of how wet you are. Your nails dig into his shoulder, his sink deeper into the flesh of your ass. Every single twitch of your core has him shuddering, but you can’t help it. The relief that floods your body at finally feelings him is insane.

You feel like a teenager, on edge this easily. At this point, your arms really start burning, and you try to shift. “Jung—FUCK!” The coat hanger snaps, breaking off the wall and causing you to lose your hold and sink down on him, fast.

In shock, Jungkook catches you and slams you against the wall. Your head knocks back, and Jungkook lets out a harsh breath through his nose as he bottoms out. “You good?”

Laughing, you nod, causing him to smile sheepishly despite the fact that you almost literally fell on his dick. “Please just,” you shift your hips a little to search out any friction, “move. Please move.”

Jungkook obliges, pressing his entire body up against yours. Pulling out, he slides back in to the hilt with one smooth thrust and you can‘t even form a noise. Your moan dies off in your throat, eyes closing at the feeling. The angle makes you feel every single inch of him, so deep. Pressed right up against your g-spot from the get-go. You shiver, clench, making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he growls, “so wet.”

Nails digging into his shoulders, you edge him on. Clenching and shifting to get him to finally just move. And move he does. Though the position doesn’t allow for more than him rutting straight into your most sensitive spot and sending you into a frenzy.

High pitched moans and deep grunts fill the hallway, your shirt protecting you from the harsh rub of the wall. All you can feel is his cock moving snug inside of you. Minimal friction, but maximum contact, you feel him twitch every time.

It’s hot. Suffocating. Having him this close. It’s delirious, toe-curling. You’re a mess, head thrown back as he just keeps moving. His pelvic bone rubbing right into your clit when he changes angle and— oh. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he answers, smiling into your neck. “I—“ he pauses to curse loudly, not stopping his movements. “I’m not gonna last.”

You barely hear him, whining in the back of your throat.

“I’m serious,” he repeats, licking up the side of your neck. “I’m close.”

Can you care? You feel like you’re on the edge, but also nowhere near your end. But in the haze of pleasure you nod, finding his lips as you try to not lose the feeling. “Don’t stop.” Holding him tight, you push his flannel of his shoulder for better purchase. “Don’t,” you lick over his bottom lip, “stop.”

Jungkook moans — a loud sound — as you find purchase to meet his movements. He moans, your cunt suddenly tighter, sucking him in. It takes only two, three more thrusts before he stills and comes so hard he nearly drops you. His entire body shudders as he twitches inside your walls. Your legs slip down, supporting your own weight before you actually tumble.

“Fuck.” He hides his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavy and wet against your chest. With his dick softening inside you, your core aches for more. Dripping still, you need friction. Release. “I’m — shit — wait.” Jungkook lets you down properly, slipping out of you. “Jesus, I’m so—“

You hush him, carding your fingers through his hair as he’s too embarrassed to meet your gaze. The empty feeling between your legs ignored for now. He’s hot, and his back and shoulders are covered in scratch marks. When he finally leans back you see his half-undone hair, his flushed skin. Eyes dark, lips red and swollen. A sight to behold.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, touching his chin to make him look up at you. Thumb running over his bottom lip, you press inside to feel the tip of his tongue. Deeper, to find his piercing. He responds lazily, sucking on your digit. “Why don’t you go down on your knees.” Your voice is a drawl, laced with the arousal that’s still burning through your veins like wildfire. “Show me that tongue piercing is more than a pretty accessory. Hmm?”

His eyes darken immediately. He gives you a taste of what you might expect, swirling his tongue around your thumb. Your stomach swoops, legs still shaky. Pulling off with a pop, he chuckles at your expression. “Let's get to the bedroom. I’m not gonna be able to hold you up while I eat you out.”

So casual. “I’m not afraid of you and your golden tongue medal Jungkook. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook makes a face, tongue swiping over this inside of his cheek in a habitual motion. A cocky one. “Okay, have it your way.”

Sinking to his knees, trailing down your thighs, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. That alone is enough to unbalance you with the way he licks and nips up your inner thigh. Goosebumps, everywhere. You can’t give in. Not when he hasn’t even—“Shit.” Jungkook goes straight for the jugular, teeth not-so-gently sinking into one of your folds as his thumb slides between them to find your soaked clit. His tongue follows immediately. The pressure of his piercing sudden, and your hand flies to his hair that’s still contained by the elastic.

“Jungk—Fuck.” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as he wraps his lips around your bud. Your body isn’t prepared.

There’s sudden, hard suction — no warning, no build-up. Jungkook sucks at you in bursts, at just the right angle where the ball in his tongue presses slightly left and — “Ah, shit, shi—fuck!” Your entire body starts vibrating, your high approaching so fast you lose control of your one leg that supports you. He expected it, because his assault stops just in time to catch you from toppling over on him.

He gazes up, lips and chin shiny, eyes glazed over and heavy-lidded. “Bed?”

All you can do is nod. Your mouth dry, breath trembling, legs jelly.

The two of you kiss when he stands and you taste yourself on his tongue ever so slightly. His bedroom isn’t far, but neither of you can let go. His hands sliding under your shirt, finally lifting it off your body. Immediately, his hand find your chest, touching, squeezing, tweaking. You moan, your own hands busy with pulling him along and tugging the last bobby pin from his hair.

Jungkook’s jeans are finally discarded when you enter his bedroom. Now less rushed, you see the floral pattern on his hip. You touch it, roses curling over his skin and disappearing under his boxers only to resurface on his thigh.

You’d take your time to trace him, remember him. but right now you’re too hungry for release. You can’t remember the last time you were this needy. This turned on. High-strung. Just thinking of his mouth has you shivering and rubbing your thighs together.

“On the bed,” Jungkook mumbles against your mouth as you kiss him. “Unless all you wanna do is make out for the rest of the night.”

You chuckle, smiling as he pushes you onto the bed and presses you against the dark covers. He seems gentle now, though your aware that what’s to come is anything but. He’s proven as much.

Back arching while he kisses down your chest, you let your own fingers roam the planes of his back. His skin is soft, ink dancing at the edges of your vision as he trails down your body. Teething at a nipple, scratching over your hip bones — Jungkook has you trembling by the time he reaches the apex of your thighs again.

You whine for mercy.

He smirks knowingly, as he breathes out over your folds. Not another second wasted, yet a teasing edge to his actions, as he lickes up your sex.

Shivering, your hands tighten in the sheets. His tongue is warm, pressing against your core while he uses a firm hand to spread your thighs further apart for him. Like that, he holds you open, pausing, breathing against you. The lack of contact lasts too long, and you shift. Canting your hips up for anything.

Eyes closed, you don’t see him move. You feel the nudge of his nose first and then... Cold. “Ah.” The press of his piercing right against your clit is ice cold and firm. Your entire body tenses up, legs nearly clamping down around his head. It’s downhill from there.

Jungkook holds you open with one hand, fingers painfully firm. He's in a controlled frenzy. Hard, swift, slurping, not a part left unattended as he pulls sounds from you, you weren’t aware you could make. The way he flicks the metal against your clit sends you keening. Back arches, painfully so with curled toes and tug at his hair — he groans. The vibrations going straight into your cunt, his tongue flattening.

He almost lets you rut up into his face. Your hands tightening into his locks, hips shifting up over his mouth. Jungkook moans into you, shoulder tensing and eyes closing. Like this, you get the fast friction you want, the build-up you need, the—

“Fuck.” His hand grabs your wrist, pulling you from his hair. “If you wanted to sit on my face, you could’ve just asked.”

Your core clenches at the thought. Him under you, gripping your thighs as you use his mouth for your own pleasure. Those dark, wide eyes looking up at you. All fucked-out. “Can I?”

He chuckles. “Absolutely not. You can use me next time. Tonight you’re mine.”

His. It falls off his tongue so easily, so deeply. You are his.

He dives back in, no longer stopped by the feeling of your hands pulling at his hair. No, he knows what to do now. Swiftly he slips a finger into your sopping core. The way he curls that one finger into you is as if he’s done it before.  You’re still sensitive from when he fucked you but he doesn’t care.

He knows he’s got you when your entire body starts shaking. You can’t stop it. The combination of his finger curling in and out of you, and his tongue rapidly circling your clit — it’s too much.

You whine loudly. Entire body on fire, tingles going down to your toes. There’s no way you’re not soiling his sheets. Him using the back of your hand to swipe over your core so he can gain purchase says enough.

His lips wrap around your clit again and he does that thing. That sucking, the flicking of his piercing. Warm, wet, rapid — this beats any toy you’ve ever used.

You can feel your high approaching like a freight train. A heavy weight in your lower abdomen. It hits you before you can even warn him. White flashes beneath your eyelids as you arch off the bed, hands pulling at the sheets.

He doesn’t stop. Gentle sucking and licking until you fall limp onto his sheets.

Eyes still closed, you’re vaguely aware of what’s happening. It’s like you’re floating, a strange, fuzzy feeling. He closes your legs, and you whimper his name with furrowed brows.

“I warned you,” he chuckles, lips pressing into your shoulder. “You didn’t listen to me.”

When you open your eyes he’s beside you, leaning on one arm. His fingers trail the shape of your chest, brushing over a very sensitive nipple. A leg slung over your limp ones. The line of his body — he’s gorgeous. Yours.

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’ll admit it.” His lips twitch up into a smile before you even finish your sentence. “You’ve ruined me. Now you’re stuck with me. I’ll never want anything but you and your devilish tongue for the rest of my life.”

Jungkook’s smile widens further, holding in a laugh as he reaches over to kiss your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for sweetheart,” he whispers, tongue darting out to touch yours. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he pulls you in, you can feel him. He’s rock hard against the juncture of your hip. Feeling him again...the thought makes you shudder. But you can also feel the sensitivity linger in your core. “No,” you squeal playfully when he rocks his hips into yours. Skin still separated by his boxers. “I need time to recuperate from all that!”

“You get ten minutes.” He nips at your chin, noses the line of your jaw. “I’ll show you what it really feels like to be ruined. We can discuss the rest of your life later.”

You grim, turning to capture his lips, legs intertwining further. “Yeah, Jeon? Gonna prove to me you’re not just a one pump guy?” The little giggle in your sentence conveys your teasing.

Jungkook’s hand grips your ass hard, pulling you flush against him. “Ten minutes are over, brat.”

An unpleasant tingling in your arm is what wakes you in the still-early morning. You sigh, shifting to feel the weight that rests over your shoulder. Jungkook.

Everything comes tumbling back. Him fucking you against the hallway wall, eating you out and making you see stars, and then fucking you again — twice. You screamed his name until you cried both of those times. The dull ache between your legs is the proof of it, as is the dryness in your throat.

Right now he lies asleep with his head on your shoulder, hair splayed messily over your skin. Your legs are twisted, and when you turn you can feel that he’s sporting a very serious hard on. “Jungkook,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

He groans, lips brushing your skin as he wakes. His arm tightens around your waist, fingers sending warmth up your spine. When he finally opens his eyes he blinks hard, once, twice, to look up at you with a wide, almost innocent gaze. Your heart skips as he looks up at you so softly. There’s a gleam in those big brown eyes as the sunlight catches them, almost making you forget all the sinful things he did to you.

“Morning,” he croaks.

“My arm.”

“Oh, shit,” he laughs, moving from his position. To your surprise, he ignores his obvious arousal even when it’s unceremoniously pressed against your leg. “Com’ere.” As much as yours, Jungkook’s voice is rough, tainted by your previous activities that went well into the depth of the night.

You let him pull you against him so that your cheek rests on his chest, his fingers carding through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, a warm gesture. Neither of you speak for a good while, almost drifting back to sleep as you bask in the gentle morning. There’s no more tension or heaviness between you. As much as the ‘what now’ question lingers on your tongue, you swallow it. Because you know.

Through the night both of your desires had become clear. Far beyond the point of lust. Jungkook growling that you’re his as his hips drive you into the mattress, and again when he kisses you tenderly after. You asking him if he’s yours, and receiving an affirmative nod as your mouth sank down on him.

No. You don’t need to have that conversation right now.

You reach out for his hand, brushing the euphoria tattoo on his middle finger. “Now I know why you got this tattooed here.”

Jungkook lets out a breath sound, humming into your hair. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget.” This less-sweet answer is paired with his other hand slipping down between your bare legs to brush your sensitive folds. “How ab—“

“Jungkook?!” Hoseok’s voice startles you both. Eyes widening with fear, hand clasping over your mouth.

“What?!” Jungkook calls back, hand coming back to your hip.

“Me and Yoongi are going out to get breakfast, do you want anything?” Your brother is here? Did they hear you?

Jungkook groans. “Where are you going?”

Your hand remains clasped over your mouth, but Jungkook doesn’t seem anything other than annoyed with his friend.

“The bakery,” Hoseok answers. “The one down south.”

“Just the usual then, and an americano.”

There’s a brief silence on the other side of the door, until... “Y/N? You want anything?”

Your face turns red, too shocked to really answer.

“She’ll have what I’m having,” Jungkook calls back with a smile.

“Hey!” You playfully shove at his chest. “I want a latte!” you call towards Hoseok.

“Sure,” Hoseok laughs. “Oh, by the way. One of you is paying for that coat hanger. And Y/N, your panties are cute but I’m not picking them off my floor.”

If you weren’t embarrassed to begin with, you sure are now. Neither of you went back to clean the mess you made in the hallway. Meaning that now only Hoseok saw, but your brother did too and—

There’s a scream “JEON JUNGKOOK! YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT!!” your brother wails, Jungkook’s entire body tightens up in response. He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

There’s a long silence, the sound of Hoseok muttering in the distance. You look up at the man beside you, confused. Jungkook’s face is drained of all colour. He known.

You’re about to open your mouth when Hoseok returns.

The door opens, and his voice carries in louder than before. “Jeon, if that nasty ass condom isn‘t gone by the time we get back, you owe me both halves of the rent. Capiche?”

Jungkook gulps. “Yeah.”

Hoseok slams the door shut, getting the message across. The both of you hold your breath until you hear the front door fall closed. Then you erupt into laughter, hands caressing bodies as tears appear in the corners of your eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head. “We have about half an hour,” he whispers, turning you so that you’re lying on top of him.

“I think we can clean up a hallway in less than that Jungkook.”

“Good,” he smirks, sliding your thighs apart so that his hard cock presses between your folds. Bare, no barriers. “Because I want you to ride me.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought, but don't send me any graphic or vulgar asks please. 

Special thanks to: @ayxxha @dee-ehn @spicykoreantatertots​ @taekooksfxck​ @sevenwho​ @sunshineangelhobi​ @hobisbeautifulass​ @thinksshesawolf​ @franklytae​ @softlyjiminie​ @out-of-jams​ @mygsii​ @joonsrack​ @namjooniebjonesuniverse​ (i'm sorry if I forgot someone)

@minjoonalist @ironicarmy @kookiesspacebuns @dammit-jjk @jesuislalune @setton00 @hplsmoon @lexi-the-fandom-master-love @thefiresfromheaven @nctssidehoe @tenshikoo @miladavidson @catsandstrawberries @cvbachacbitch @x-guccipeaches-x @yeontanie21 @feel-the-sunset @jimilogy @si1verrose @bishuthot @shane-knight @carolsummerlove @doki-do-ki @topanga27 @vanitypoko @kookoo-kachoo​ 

[janetfraiserdeservedbetter]

Pins and Needles (Chapter Four)

(Read Chapter One, Two and Three here!)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1754

Fandom: Stargate SG1

Pairing: Sam Carter x Janet Fraiser

Summary:  Janet is a single mother and owner of a tattoo studio. Sam is a florist who has just moved into town. Janet's infatuated. Sam's a disaster gay. Flower shop/Tattoo parlour AU. 

Authors Note: Completely forgot to upload this chapter here! Chapter 5 is coming, slowly. Thanks for all the love on this fic so far though! I know this chapter seems heavily Sam/Jack but I promise it’s only for this bit and then we’re back onto the cute ladies! 

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After the disastrous morning she’d had, Sam only hoped that the afternoon would be better. She’d thought about sending a text to check in with Janet but the woman seemed rather cold when she’d left so Sam thought it best to leave it be. She’d spent the afternoon trying to meditate but when that hadn’t worked, she’d retreated to her garden - not that it was much of a garden at the moment. The soil was good but the last owners had let the yard go and before she could plant anything, there was a lot of work that needed to be done.      Sam pulled her bike into Jack’s driveway right at 5 pm; his garage door was open and the man sat by a sad excuse for a motorbike, beer by his foot. When he heard the rumble of the Ninja, he looked up and smiled at her. She climbed off the bike and removed her helmet, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to smooth it down.      “Glad you could make it,” Jack held a beer out to her and she smiled gratefully, running a hand over the bare engine. “Heard you needed an expert's help,” she teased. The man chuckled, flipping a milk carton over for her and patting it.

     The afternoon passed quickly and they made good progress cleaning the body of dirt and rust and making a plan of attack. Before either of them realised, the light had faded and the temperature dropped, and Jack leaned back, groaning a little. Sam looked over and grinned, wiping her hands on a rag. “I think you’ll need to order the radiator but then we can go from there.” “What would I do without you?” He smirked and Sam blushed a little, tossing him the rag. “Got time for a drink?”

     “Sorry about the mess. Beer okay?” Jack called as he flicked the lights on, heading down the corridor to the kitchen. Sam peered around the living room politely, keeping her hands in her pockets. His house was tidier than she’d expected for a bachelor. There weren’t many personal items; instead, the coffee table held a few empty bottles, an array of fishing and hardware magazines strewn across it. A blanket was draped haphazardly across the back of the couch and if Sam didn’t know any better, it looked like he slept there too often. The only personal effects she could see were a handful of pictures on and above the fireplace, some of Jack alone in uniform, others with a pretty blonde woman and a little boy. She wasn’t trying to be nosy so when she heard Jack’s footsteps in the hall, she turned to him, ignoring her own curiosity. He held a bottle out to her and she took it gratefully, sitting on the sofa across from him in the armchair.      “How long were you in the air force?” She said after a long moment as they both took long swigs of their beers.      “Almost 3 decades. Most days, my body feels like it was five.”      “Why’d you get out of it? If you don't mind me asking. I just can't imagine that working at a hardware store would be as adventurous as piloting an F-16.”      He looked impressed. “Spent more than my fair share of time in and out of near death situations. Takes a toll on your body and your relationships. You seem to know a lot about the force. Because of your dad?”      “Yeah. I was fascinated with the stuff as a kid. Almost went into the academy...”      “But?”      “When my mom died...I kinda came to resent the military. All my dreams of being an astronaut just went out the window.”      “Probably for the best. After my son died, I couldn’t...I couldn’t go back.”      “God, I’m sorry.”      “No, it’s...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He exhaled sharply. “Another beer?”      “I shouldn’t have any more on an empty stomach. Got anything to eat?”      “No, I usually order in. Wanna go grab a Pizza?”

     Thank god they rang their order in ahead of time because the town was bustling with couples out and about on date night. They’d taken Sam’s bike but Jack had driven, leaving Sam to hold on tight to the man’s torso. She couldn’t deny that he smelt amazing, like Old Spice and grease and she could feel how fit he was under his shirt but she couldn’t get Janet out of her head.      Jack found a park down from the street from the pizza shop, right by ‘Lord of the Beans’, and he grinned as he took the helmet off.      “She rides nicely,” he patted the seat appreciatively and Sam smiled back, locking the helmets under the seat. They crossed the road together and Sam couldn’t help but peer back into her shop as they passed; it was dark and quiet but the lettering had finally been applied to the glass and the window was full of Peace Lilies. It was her dream come true and it was finally coming together. She glanced over at the tattoo parlour, half expecting to see Janet through the window but despite the lights, the shop looked empty.      “Vala usually stays back on weekends to mind the place so Janet can spend some time with Cas,” Jack explained and she bit back the questions she had about their relationship. She’d already made things weird with Janet, no need to do the same with Jack too.      Changing the topic, the pair chatted idly as they strolled, steering clear of personal topics, instead talking about the bike and Sam’s shop.      “My mom always wanted to be a florist but it just never happened for her. I know it sounds silly but after she died, that’s all I could think about. I wanted to do what she couldn’t. Then dad died and… well, I guess it was just the right thing to do.”      “It’s a big move to make by yourself,” he noted and she shot him a small smile.      “What can I say, I’m an adrenaline junkie.”

     On their way back to the bike, Jack with the pizza, Sam couldn’t help but notice the light’s still on in the studio but this time, Janet was on the sidewalk, phone to her ear, police cruiser by her side. Without a word, the pair rushed to the tattoo artist. “Jan, you okay?” She spun to look at them and Sam could see the frustration on the other woman’s face. Her gaze softened a little when she saw Sam and she let out a long breath, running a hand through her hair. She was all rugged up in a sweater and lounge pants, a cardigan wrapped tight around her; it looked as if she’d just gotten out of bed.      “Oh hey,” she looked to Jack quickly. The man touched her arm and she chewed her lip. “Yeah, the shop got broken into. They didn’t steal anything from what we can see. Sheriff Hammond thinks the alarm scared them away.”      As if on cue, a large, bald man strode from the store towards them. He nodded at Jack and Sam in greeting.      “No luck on fingerprints, I’m afraid. Whoever did this didn’t seem to have time to go through the cash drawer.”      “Thank god for that… I’ll get you the camera footage tomorrow when I call the security company.”      The man nodded again and touched Janet’s arm. “You let me know if you need anything.”      With that, he got into his police cruiser and drove off. Janet exhaled and stretched her neck, turning back to Sam and Jack. There was something in her eyes; disappointment? Vulnerability? Rejection? Whatever it was she seemed to push it down and took a deep breath.      “I’ll have to stay to tape this window up and hope the insurance covers the damned thing,” her voice was stiff and she squared her shoulders. “I can swing by first thing in the morning to help.” Jack watched the small woman grip the broom, brushing small defeated strokes across the dark grey tiles.      “Thanks Jack, really.” She gave a tight-lipped smile as she knelt, brushing the pile of the glass into the flat pan and casting it aside. It almost looked as if she was praying, her shoulder-length auburn hair gently swaying in the cool night air that invades the shop through the hole in the window. “Go, you two should go enjoy your night. Don’t let me keep you.”      “Don’t be silly. We’re worried about you.” Sam said, taking the cardboard from her hands the woman turned, her eyes wide and her body tense. Sam knew this woman would fight over flight any day.      “I’ll get some wood from the shop and I'll help you fix up for the night and clean up the glass. Sorry to cut this short, Sam.”      “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay with her until you get back,” Sam smiled, watching Jack leave with determination in the direction of the hardware store. She looked back to Janet who was back on her feet, staring into the pile of shattered glass distractedly.      “I am sorry. I didn’t want to ruin your night…” Janet sighed.      “You’re not. You didn’t…I was just helping with his bike. I’m a bit of a tinkerer, that’s all. Plus, it was more of a therapy session than anything..”      “Yeah, Jack does that to people.” For the first time that evening, Janet smiled at her and Sam felt herself relax slightly. The pair cleaned the glass from the floor in comfortable silence and Sam felt herself watching Janet from the corner of her eyes. She looked exhausted and stressed and all she wanted to do was give her the biggest hug but Jack strode into the store at that moment, a few thin sheets of plywood in his arms. He grinned at them and Janet moved over to take some from him.       Suddenly feeling not needed, Sam watched them work for a moment, Janet holding the wood while jack drilled.      “I should go…” she proclaimed, heading for the door. Her friends looked up at her as she dug for her keys.      “I can give Jack a lift home,” Janet offered, dusting sawdust from her hands. Sam chewed her lip and nodded, her chest tight.      “I’ll see you around…” her eyes moved to Jack. “Thanks for today.”      He smiled warmly and nodded and she felt eyes on her all the way to her bike.

[wwounu]

By the lack of replies you assumed Seokmin was busy with a client at the parlour. He was a favourite amongst the people and it was funny to see his face dissolve into a state of flutter as he mumbled it out.

You near the tattoo parlour, ready to hand over Seokmin the plastic bag stocked with strawberry milk, but come to a sudden stop.

“Seok’?”

The scene was far enough for anyone to not notice you, but near for you to see Seokmin stopped from going into the parlour, a box in his arms, as a girl blocks him.

Although you couldn’t hear what was going on, the actions spoke for itself. You counted how many times this girl touched Seokmin and compared it with how many times Seokmin touched her.

When Seokmin moved, she’d block him again; she pokes at his chest, one time, two times, three times; her hand will grab the male’s wrist and almost drop the box as she pulled him back; pushing Seokmin a step back whenever she’d turn to scoff.

You move in a little closer, now hearing the words firing.

“Yuri, I’m really busy right now so-“

The quiet voice was cut off by the girl, much louder and powerful than his. “Running away again, huh?” A scoff comes out, smirking a little. “That’s all you do, don’t you Seokmin?”

“It’s — That’s not true-“

“Of course it is! You’re always running away from me because you can’t man up and take this seriously. It’s quite sad to see you think like that.”

Seokmin’s mouth hangs open for a bit, wanting to say something but his jaw trembles.

“What.” Yuri backfires. “Something to say?”

Seokmin denies it, closing his mouth before he looks down at the ground, visibly sighing.

“Hey- Hey you! Look at me!”

You don’t fail to catch the flinch Seokmin has when she addresses him as ‘you’. You don’t fail to see his hands beginning to shake, his eyes moving around everywhere to see at the few people looking at him and Yuri, the fear seeping through.

So she attacks yet again. It was beginning to make your blood boil.

“You can’t even do something simple, how stupid. Face it, you still need me-“

“Just leave me alone Yuri — Leave — Leave me the fuck alone okay!”

“What… What did you just say to me you-“

“I’m so tired of feeling like this for years now. Do you have to go through what I went through? Did you know how I felt? I hate it — I hate it. Just go away, you need to leave-“

Yuri’s face changes drastically. “Why- You asshole!” Her hand lifts itself up. “Think about what you say next time!”

And when he hand moves towards Seokmin’s direction, the latter doesn’t feel the stinging pain. He doesn’t feel his darkest moments that come along with it. His eyes are shut tight, but opening them slowly, his view is covered by a figure.

And Seokmin could see the faint view of a bruise forming on your cheek.

“Who are you?” Spits Yuri, clearly thrown off guard.

“I could ask the same, but I think the slap tells me enough.”

“Shouldn’t you be minding your own business?”

“It’s my business now that you slapped me.”

“That wasn’t for you!” She screams, frustrated as she stomps on the ground. “Now leave us the fuck alone!”

“Seokmin doesn’t deserve to be harassed like this! Don’t you realise how humiliating you look right now? He’s right — You should leave.”

“Is that right? What if I don’t want to? What are you gonna do about it?”

“Don’t challenge me, I have plenty of reasons of why you should leave-“

She rudely cuts you off all of a sudden, and you take a step back to feel the box meet your back. “Where?” She further challenges.

You hand instantly points to your cheek. “I can easily call the police if I wanted to, and everyone around me saw it for themselves so…” You shrug, watching her face change to disgust.

But she ignores you, looking back at the man behind you. “You know her? Your friends a sorta rude y’know-“

“Shut up.” Taken aback by Seokmin’s response (surprising you too), Yuri shuts up once again. “You can say whatever you want about me, but never speak a single word about my friends. You’re the one who hurt her anyway.”

“Why are you saying I hurt her?! I didn’t hurt her, she did it herself! That bitch did it to make me look bad. Seokmin please!” Yuri panics, laughing hysterically. Seokmin pulls you back a bit, dropping the box to the floor so he can step in front to shield you.

His hands are shaky by the touch, but he tries his best to steady his breaths. “That’s enough. I’ve had enough of you and I don’t want you back in my life ever… ever again. I’m sorry you’re like this but — but I’m done with you.”

You smile at his confidence, proud that he was getting out the words he wanted to say — despite there being more unspoken words that should be told — it was a start. One day, he’ll be all healed and ready to free his worries, and you quietly promised yourself to stay with him to see that day, and stay with him after that.

With Yuri’s tantrum going on, you slip your hand into the male’s, speaking up for her to hear. “We’ll leave you to it. If you aren’t going to go then we should — Next time think before you act. Goodbye.”

Not knowing where to walk, you cast the thought aside and walk to wherever you can go, preferably a quiet and spacious place.

You knew the perfect location.

After walking hand and hand for quite a while, keeping quiet as the atmosphere was tense and Seokmin was doing his not-talking thing, you arrive in front of the homely shop which you call your second home and the place that began it all.

The store was closed for the day, as it was your grandparents wedding anniversary and were spending the day to themselves before you joined them for dinner with your family — They’d be very surprised when they see you with a ugly discoloured mark on your face.

Seokmin and you settle, letting him sit on the counter as you find a seat from the back to sit on. The male is staring at his hands when you come back.

“Hey,” You call out softly, “how are you?”

“Thank you.”

His voice is small, barely echoing through the shop. You smile a little at him, tucking some his bangs behind his ear. “You’re welcome Seokmin. Can I? Sorry I didn’t ask earlier on.”

He knew you were talking about his hands, and you did feel the slight flinch when you held his hand before leaving. Seokmin shakes his head, translating to its okay, before nodding, lifting up your hands gently.

You ghost your fingers, rubbing your thumb on his skin before exploring further and shifting his sleeve to show the inked lock on his wrist, smiling sadly at it. He too is smiling sadly, as he could probably guess what you were thinking.

“We’ll get through this Seok’.” You promise, no sound of an empty promise anywhere. “I don’t know how we’ll do this, but we can find a way. Is that okay?”

Seokmin nods again, now looking at you. He’s thinking. His eyes shift slightly when he’s thinking, and his hands tense up before loosening its grip, before loosening again.

The male wants to do something and you pick up the signals to initiate it for him. Exhaling a small huff, you say, “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m so proud of you.” And pull him into the hug he’s been wanting to initiate, naturally holding each other tight.

His scent mixed in with the flowers, naturally feeling like home to you. This was going to take some time, and the lines may be blurry now, but you were going to make it work. And with some thinking time your voice is now quiet and small.

“Seok’?”

He hums next to your ear.

“My — My cheek hurts.” Your voice cracks. “It really, really hurts…”

And funnily enough you’re crying now, not sure what the cause of it is, but the pain was finally hurting now.

For the rest of that evening, Seokmin hushes you with soft shushes and head pats, before you request him to sing you to sleep.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT PART FOURTEEN — Tattoo Artist!Seokmin x Florist!Reader

early update because i love you all! it isnt too good though :(( ill do better next time i promise... also debating to post the next mafia member but we’ll see about it!

one • two • three • four • five • six • seven • eight • nine • ten • eleven • twelve • thirteen • fourteen • fourteen ½

masterlist

[catchmelikekyloren]

Rey x Kylo Ren - Reylo AU - Florist x Tattoo Artist

Find HERE on AO3!

Word Count: 1,582

Biologically, his name was Ben Solo. But his tattoo clients and other people that knew him referred to him as Kylo Ren. His preference.

He was standing outside his shop, which was a tattoo parlour. He worked on a corner street that caught the attention of people passing by easily, especially tourists. It was just another day for him. He flipped the sign on his door to show that he was opening for the day. Looking across the street, he noticed a woman, maybe a bit younger than him, opening up what seemed to be a flower shop. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips as he lit it, then he stepped outside to get a closer look. He leaned against a brick wall that he was lucky to have outside his shop, considering it fitted the whole aesthetic/grunge look he was going for. After taking a drag, he noticed that she was setting up flowers outside, most likely to attract people inside, or to buy them.

Her name was Rey Jakku. She had lived near the area ever since she left school. Working multiple jobs to save up so that she could buy her own flower shop. She had always been into flowers, and now, she was actually able to show it. Now that she finally had the shop, she was going to make sure everything was perfect.

She was outside the shop, organising some flowers around the front so that they were on display. When she was done, she dusted off her hands, looking across the street. She saw a man, smoking a cigarette outside what she imagined was a tattoo parlour. She gave a small wave, wanting to at least appear friendly. She then watched as he narrowed her eyes at her, putting out his cigarette, and giving her the middle finger. Her eyes widened softly as she watched him walk back inside his store. But instead of letting herself let caught up about it, she rolled her own eyes, walking back into her own shop. “Dick.”

From inside his shop, he looked over at her shop, wondering if she would even consider letting him buy flowers after what he did.

 Time passed, and soon it was lunch time. Rey had made her way to a local café. She was stood in the line, looking around at the other’s who were inside. Just as she got to the front of the queue, she heard the bell on the door ring. Turning to see who had entered, her expression dropped and her eyes narrowed when she saw that it was the guy from the tattoo parlour. Luckily, she was next. Stepping up, she ordered a sandwich and a cup of tea. After ordering, she turned to leave, only to almost run into the guy. He looked down at her, raising his brow. She simply scowled, walking past him as she went outside with her food.

He smirked, ordering his own food before going outside himself. When he got there, he caught her throwing the packaging to her sandwich into the bin, her tea still in hand. He was surprised by how quickly she had eaten, figuring she was just hungry.

She saw him, glaring before she turned and began to make he way back to the shop. Kylo followed behind her, considering he was going in the same direction. At one point, she had looked back to see him following her, but as she went to scowl, he winked, just to taunt her. She walked faster until she finally made it back to her store.

 A few days passed when Rey had managed to genetically breed some flowers that were perfectly fitting to Kylo’s store. They were dark and had a grunge vibe to them.

He was minding his own business when he saw her placing them outside the front of her shop. Instantly, he was drawn in. He knew he had to have them. But he also knew it was going to be tricky business, considering he was sure she hated him.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he walked out his shop and made his way over to hers. When she turned to see him, he greeted her with a friendly smile. “Pretty flowers…”

“You like them?” She said, smiling as she fully turned to look at him. “I made them myself, to go with a new lipstick shade I got. It’s called asshole.” Then, she pretended to grab something out of her pocket, pulling something off her middle finger as she kept her other ones down, flipping him the bird. She traced it around her lips, giving the illusion that she was applying lipstick, before she pressed her lips into her finger. Then she acted surprised, as if she couldn’t believe what she had just done. Smiling smugly, she turned and went back inside her store.

Kylo stood in shock for a few seconds, before a smirk finally graced his lips. He chuckled to himself, turning to walk back to his own store. “Two can play at that game, love.”

 After the whole incident, Rey decided to just spend the rest of her day taking care of the flowers. She tended to the ones inside before heading outside with her watering can. She glanced over to the guy’s shop, curious as to what he was doing before she turned back to mind her own business.

Across the street, Kylo was placing a new painting he had bought up onto his wall to add to the aesthetic of the store. When it was up, he licked his lips in satisfaction, pulling off his leather jacket as he glanced back over to the flower shop. Then he went outside, placing a cigarette between his lips as he stared up at the sky.

Rey had caught him, almost in a trance. She hated the fact he was attractive. As much as she tried to make it seem as though he was arrogant about it, it only made it more difficult for him to dislike him. But then she shook her head, turning back to her plants as she watered them more.

Kylo took that as an opportunity to commence his plan. He was as silent as a mouse as he crept his way over to her. Then with a suddenness, he tapped her shoulder.

Rey wasn’t expecting it, and as she yelped, turning around quickly to see who or what it was, the lid to her watering can fell off, causing the water to spill all over his shirt.

Kylo merely looked down at himself, letting out a deep sigh before he glanced back up to her.

She was still in shock, but when she saw that the water had seemed through to reveal his chiselled chest, she gulped. Her cheeks heated as her gaze moved up to meet his. “Can I help you?”

“I feel like I let my anger get the best of me when I met you,” he stated. Rey scoffed, raising her brow at him. “I’m gonna try to be formal here and give you my name. Hi, I’m Kylo Ren. And you are?”

Rey listened to what he had said, nodding slowly. She agreed. It would be good for them to make an effort to make acquaintances.

“I’m Rey.”

He nodded, finding admiration for her having such a unique name. Then again, what kind of name was Kylo Ren?

He caught her staring at his chest, chuckling softly. “You know what? You’re looking at my shirt a lot. Would it be better if I took the damn thing off? Like this?” Just as he said that, he pulled it off over the top of his head, holding it in his hand as he smirked, giving her a questioning brow. “Better?”

Rey’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned away, almost giving herself whiplash.  

He only used her reaction to his advantage, snickering as he leaned in towards her ear. “What? Is it something I said?” He whispered.

She felt goosebumps on her arms, her cheek flushing more as she stepped back. Narrowing her eyes at him, she waved her watering can in an accusing manner. “I will spill the rest of my can on you, then beat you with it, if you don’t go and put a bloody shirt on right now.”

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled the shirt back over the top of his head.

She shook her head at him, crossing her arms. “Not funny.”

“That right there, was hilarious,” he said, an amused tone to his voice. “You take the ‘f’ out of fun, you know that? Maybe if you put that letter somewhere else, like the word ‘uck’, then you could have a lot of fun.” He winked, waiting to see her appalled reaction.

At first, she was confused, furrowing her brows as she tilted her head. But when she got it, she rolled her eyes. He was flirting with her.  So, she decided to get back at him, stepping closer with a flirtatious smile.

“I don’t need to fuck, when I can have fun all – by – myself,” she drew it out, just to get her point across, her voice husky as she cast him a wink. Then, she turned and walked back into her store. But the moment she was inside, she was certain her cheeks were on fire as she covered her mouth, in disbelief of what she had just said.

[janetfraiserdeservedbetter]

Pins And Needles (Chapter Two)

(Read Chapter One here)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2294

Fandom: Stargate SG1

Pairing: Sam Carter x Janet Fraiser

Summary:  Janet is a single mother and owner of a tattoo studio. Sam is a florist who has just moved into town. Janet's infatuated. Sam's a disaster gay. Flower shop/Tattoo parlour AU.

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Chapter Two

 Business was slow that day with only a few booked clients and a handful of walkins so Janet took the opportunity to get some administrative work done, which was good because she couldn’t stop thinking of the new florist. She put it down to Sam being so goddamn gorgeous.      She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, deciding that she needed a break. The computer screen told her that it was almost 3 o’clock and she’d run out of coffee an hour ago. Vala was just finishing up with a client, a new marine in his twenties who’d gotten his first tattoo, a small eagle on his forearm. They’d had to take a few breaks, making what should have been a 30-minute job into an hour. Janet got to her feet, dumping her empty cup in the bin as she approached the counter where he was paying.      “How did it all go?” She smiled politely resting a hand on Vala’s arm who returned the smile, looking a little exasperated. As soon he had finished paying and the door closed after him, Vala rolled her eyes and dropped back onto her stool as she tidied up the area.      “That man is supposed to protect our country and he can’t even handle a tattoo. God’s help us all.”      Janet hummed absently as she fished for her bag out of the staff cupboard, glancing back across the street for the thousandth time. The sun had disappeared behind thick, dark clouds and the rain had just started, drizzling lazily against the sidewalk. Usually, Cassie would meet them at the studio and spend the afternoon doing her homework in Daniel’s shop until close but in weather like this, it wasn’t unusual for Janet to pick her up if she wasn’t with a client. The other woman followed her gaze and smirked, tossing a wad of paper towel at her.      “Go ask her out or are you a coward as well as a flaming homosexual?”      If it was anyone else speaking to her like that, Janet may have knocked them out. Instead, she rolled her eyes and ignored the woman’s taunts. “I’m going to get Cass, call me if you need anything.”

     “...So then I told Eliza where to shove it -”      “Cassandra Fraiser!”      “-Then Mr. Waters gave me detention for a week! A week, mom! That’s, like, totally unfair!”      The school traffic was backed up for blocks and what was supposed to be a 10-minute drive had turned into half an hour and Janet couldn’t wait to get home and sleep.      “Cassie, I thought we promised that you were going to try to behave this year.” The teenager rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest and Janet sighed, squeezing the steering wheel. “What were you arguing about anyway?”      This time, Cassie didn’t answer, the silence heavier than it ought to be. They inched forward in the traffic.      “Cass.”      “She called you a dyke.” A car honked for them to move forward again - the congestion was clearing now - and Janet let out a long, sharp breath.      “I’m sorry, Cass.”      “It’s not right, mom! How was I the one to get in trouble when they called you… that?”      “I appreciate you standing up for me, Cassie, but sometimes you need to pick your battles. Outside of school, snot the kid but when you’re in class, you… you can’t risk your education.”      “So, I let them win?” The conversation was going in circles and before she could think of an appropriate answer, they were parking in front of the studio. Janet turned in her seat, lips pursed.      “No. But you don't sacrifice your education for a low life like that.” The teenager huffed and Janet reached over, squeezing her hand. “I’m proud of you...Wanna grab a hot chocolate?” They shared a smile and Cassie nodded; the rain had eased off now but the pavement was slick and Janet made sure to watch her step as she climbed out.      “Sam?” She was surprised to see a tall, blonde woman talking to Vala and the two women turned to them as they entered. “Getting a tattoo?” Pink flared across Sam’s fair cheeks and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, shrugging. “I, uh… I finished unpacking most of my boxes and I thought maybe you could show me around?” The warm blue eyes moved then from her to the teenager.      “Oh, I’m sorry, I promised Cassie--”      “Don’t be silly, mom,” the girl interrupted, grinning as she looked between them, “Vala promised to help me with my homework.” Her partner in crime laughed, giving Janet the thumbs up. Sam looked a little confused but good-naturedly went along with it. Janet gave her an apologetic smile, ignoring the two trouble makers. “Then I’d love to show you around.”      “Great.”      She shot her daughter and staff a look and followed Sam onto the sidewalk, glad for the warmer clothes she’d chosen that morning. The afternoon was looking grey and damp, with the promise of more rain to come but for now, it left the air with memories of winter just passed.      “So, you have a daughter?” The question didn’t sound judgy but like she was genuinely interested. They made their way down the main street that was fairly empty for this time of day, taking their time on their stroll.      “Yeah, she just turned 14… It’s been a hell of a ride.”      “Is her dad a tattoo artist too?”      Janet hesitated. “No, he’s not in our lives anymore.”      “Oh, god I’m sorry..”      “No, no, don’t be, he’s not dead, though sometimes I wish he was.” She could see the confusion written all over Sam’s face and she smiled back reassuringly. “No, we just don’t have anything to do with him, not since we moved out here a few years back.”      “Sounds like it was for the best…”      “Best thing I’ve ever done...What about you? You married?”      Sam laughed gently, blue eyes warm and Janet felt her belly do a little flip. “No. Nearly happened a few times but apparently, I attract psychos. Jonas, well, he ended up getting into some weird cult and Pete wanted different things than I did.”      “Men, huh.”      “Yeah. I guess that’s part of the reason I came out here. Fresh start and all that.”      A faint rumble echoed across the sky and as a pair, the women looked up as the first few drops of rain dropped onto their cheeks. With very little notice, the skies opened again and unleashed the mother of all rain, fat heavy drops pounding the pavement. Sam shrieked and Janet laughed, a little bit giddy as she pulled Sam into the hardware store. The door slammed behind them and the blonde woman shook the water out of her hair, grinning like a mad man.      “Wet enough for you, ladies?”      Lightning illuminated the street again as the women turned to the voice. Standing by an ancient cash register, positioning a metal bucket under the steady drip from the roof was a handsome man in his mid 40’s; his skin was like honey and despite the weather, his silvering hair was hidden beneath a khaki cap. Janet barely remembered to let go of the other woman’s hand and greeted the man with a grin. “Hey there, Jack,” She tried to fix her windswept hair, suddenly a little self-conscious. Jack kept himself in better shape than most other men of his age and he was well aware of women’s desire for him. Janet had seen her fair share of the man over the past few years but recently and most importantly, mutually, they’d decided that neither of them was willing to advance the ‘relationship’ further than what it was; too many drinks and late-night booty calls. They were both damaged in their own ways and neither seemed very good at working on themselves. Still, they were good friends and Cassie adored her ‘Uncle Jack’. That didn’t mean that Janet wouldn’t blush when he smiled at her like that.      “This is Sam, the new florist.” He wiped a hand on his jeans and offered it to the blonde with a disarming smile.      “Sam Carter.”      “Jack. O’Neill. Nice to meet ya. That your ‘Ninja’ across the road?”      “Sure is! You got one?”      “Been trying to rebuild one for years but… Ah, you know how that is.”      “Yeah, don’t I just. Got a shell at home but… well.”      They both chuckled and Janet looked between them, brows raised with amusement.      “Hope you don’t mind if we hole up in here until the rain passes.”      “Not at all. Cam keeps saying that this place could use a feminine touch.”      As if summoned, a younger man stuck his head out from the staff room, chowing down on some macaroons. Introductions were made, macaroons passed around and the staff kettle boiling while the storm raged on outside. Janet set herself on top of a small step ladder, watching as the florist spoke excitedly about her motorbike preferences.      The store was large, much larger than her studio but with rows and rows of shelves cluttered with every type of nut, bolt, washer, screwdriver, and tool you could need. Jack didn’t keep the place very tidy but from what he’d told Janet, his ex-father-in-law had handed the keys over to him just before the divorce so most of the stuff was from as early as the ’80s.      “So you’re ex-military?” Sam asked Jack, making herself comfortable on a fishing chair.      “How could you tell?”      Sam blushed, shrugging. “I know your type. My father was in the Air Force.”      The man turned then, a sudden realisation coming to his face. “Carter. Of course, Jacob Carter?”      “Yeah. You knew him?”      “Met him in passing a few times. How is the old man going?”      “Oh, he...passed away a few years ago. Cancer.”      “Ah geez, I’m sorry. He was a good man.”      Cam emerged with a tray of cups and macaroons his grandmother had made, he explained. He set it down on the counter and passed both women a cup of hot coffee. Sam shot Janet a skeptical look as the smaller woman sniffed the liquid. It smelt wrong and she wasn’t sure any amount of creamer or sugar could save it.      “Sorry,” Cam commented, seeing their looks of distrust. “We usually get coffee from Jackson down the road so this is all we’ve got at the moment until the rain stops.” He held up his makeshift coffee mug - a mason jar that Janet could have sworn was holding pencils on the front desk moments ago. Jack took a sip from a battered styrofoam cup and grimaced.      “How’s Cas?” he asked the tattoo artist who decided not to risk the murky brown liquid and cradled the cup on her knee.      “Yeah, not bad. She, uh… got another detention today.” Janet shrugged.      “Just say the word, Jan, I can take her for a weekend. Straighten her out.” His words were not unkind and a smile accompanied them. She was well aware that his ‘straightening out’ would be movies and pizza. Still, it would be good for Cassie to spend some time with a parental figure like Jack. She often worried if she was doing the right thing by her daughter. It scared her to think that she was going to stuff her up in some way.      “Thanks, Jack.” Their eyes met for a moment and she almost missed his touch. No, she thought, she had to be strong. As handsome and enticing as Jack was, Janet couldn’t let herself go there again.

     It took almost an hour for the rain to ease and in that time, Sam and Jack seemed to hit it off, discussing their experience with the Air Force. Jealousy boiled in the base of her stomach but she tried to ignore it; she had no right to be jealous of either of them.      As soon as the sky cleared a little, Janet got to her feet, setting her cup down by the counter. Three sets of eyes followed her.      “I best get back. I don’t trust Vala with Cassie for too long; lord knows what trouble they’ll get into.”      Sam stood as well, smiling at the smaller woman. “I’ll walk you back.”      Janet nodded and the women said their goodbyes, not without Jack offering his help with Sam’s bike. There was that jealousy again and Janet made sure to hide it behind a tight-lipped smile.      “Sorry the tour didn’t go so well,” she commented once they were out on the street. They’d only made it half a block before the storm hit and cut their time together short. Now though, the sky was blue, the darkest clouds moving towards the ever-darkening horizon.      “It’s okay. They seem nice.”      “Yeah, they’re good guys.”      “Well maybe,” Sam shrugged, “I could buy you lunch tomorrow and we could finish the tour?”      Janet felt her cheeks get a little warm and she nodded, smiling gently. “Sure. I think I can fit you in.”      “I’ll bring the umbrella.”      They made it back to the shop as Cassie and Vala were locking the doors up. Sam made her way across to her bike that was drenched from the downpour.      “Let us give you a ride home,” Janet called. “We can swing by in the morning and drop you off.”      Even if Sam was more interested in Jack, Janet wouldn’t let that stop her from making friends. Women had to stick together and she definitely wasn’t about to let a guy get between her and a new friendship.      She saw Sam smile from across the road as she secured her bike and slung her bag over her shoulder. Janet made sure to ignore Cassie’s giggles all the way home.