hi | 15 | i write for a few groups like bts, got7 and monsta x | if you have any requests for idols to write about, don't be afraid to give me a holler!
warnings: will be smut eventually, may become graphic in future scenes
pairing: jungkook x reader
a/n: this is my first upload on my new blog so i’m sensitive aubrey
code name JOY, a hitman that does the job dirty, is recruited by a notorious mob, who have both respect for her, and a member that she shot two days ago
[gif not mine]
El Mariachi’s.
It lived and breathed as an entrance and exit to a night life of sin. The drinks bad and the people worse, the club radiated a thick vibe of released tension. But what the transgressors of society that inhabited this den didn’t realise is that they weren’t the monsters of the underworld. The bossmen were.
“You know, I happen to be an expert in fucking up faces,” you fired out to the men cuffing your arms with their veiny hands, “it’s sort of my job.”
The men with masks paid no attention, leaving your arms locked up in their own.
The back entrance to El Mariachi’s resembled that of an old Spanish villa’s, which made you chuckle humourlessly at how out of place it looked in a back street of Seoul. Each man on your side stoped dead at the front of it.
↳ Within the forest and over the moutains lies many secrets, ones you should stay away from; but some things are meant to come across.
✓ Pairing → Taehyung | Reader! [ boxer au ]
✓ Type & Vigilance → Drama, soft angst & fluff. Smut, overstimulation. Can’t handle that? Don’t waste your time bitching at me, it’s just a fanfic. Either read the warnings or take the risk.
✓ Words → 11,987
note ⌲ i tried to change the past tense to present but got lazy daljsfkas this isnt edited, I’ll probably edit the whole thing this weekend! also, the title to serenity of the night is changed, i feel like the title has more meaning in this other fic im working on ((: enjoy!
Gripping the straps of your backpack, you wearily stared at the stony underpass littered with weeds, branches and scattered leaves; wondering if passing through the entrance and walking inside the forest filled with trees and who knew what else was on the other side would be worth it. A chipped and tattered wooden sign grinned your way as you stopped in your tracks, eyes hesitating as you took a step back because oh my god, would walking up the dark and gloomy filled forest-like mountain be worth it?
Yelping as you feel rough hands push you into the other side of the underpass, you stumble slightly as you blinking and watch the boys laugh with one another while a fellow friend pats your back. “Lighten up,” you hear Hoseok say, walking past you before eyeing you over his shoulder, “it’s going to be amazing!”
Gulping, you slightly look over your shoulder to see the parking lot void of any life as your cars settles side by side, lone fireflies and leaves swirling around the empty area before they fly into the forest. You were told that the trip was going to be fun, that the mountain you were supposed to be residing in was one of the most beautiful ones in the country, but somehow, something was eating at your brain as you felt a strange feeling prickling in the darkest pits of your stomach, a feeling that once you were off the mountain..
In part 1 of the story what are daps? And also Bonnie and Clyde should be a full blown fan fic!
daps are just like lace up shoes, like converse, or they’re pull on shoes like gym shoes depends what country you’re from :) and i’m thinking about it!! xox
Is there gonna be a Bonnie and Clyde part 3!? part 1 and 2 are SO GOOD!! SO GOOD!!
ty!!!!! i might do, and i’ve been So inactive recently, mostly bc my posts aren’t taking off again like they used to so my motivation is waining :/ but you’ll have to wait and see i’m feeling sort of inspired at the moment as it goes!
;warnings — single dad x high school senior | first part smut-free
;summary — Honey-kissed skin, golden eyes, all adorned by Gucci. Maybe the fun part is just the thrill of him being older, getting to come back from a completely mundane day of classes and wrapping yourself in his arms, playing a pretend perfect family. But for sure, you knew you loved feeling him on you, in you, all over you.
∵ catagory: angst (will be smut; will mention some mental illnesses/disorders; will brush on topics like stalkers and obsessions so pls be careful if this is a trigger for you)
∵ a/n: so this is a yoongi fic i have begun, it was supposed to be a lighthearted story line but i had an epiphany and boom this is the outcome
parts : | 1 | (more to come)
somnambulist — (n). a person who sleepwalks.
walking.
you were walking; left, right, left, right, like any other hominid on this planet. walking through what looked like central park in new york at about 2:37am, with nothing except a slight mingle of moon and street light, casting a yellow tinge and apparent shadow on the park life -or lack thereof.
except, so it would seem, central park never used to have a huge swimming pool right there did it?
you won’t question it, or the fact that the edges were surrounded by roses, in each varying colour of a rainbow.
you don’t know at what point you decided you were to go swimming, but before you knew it you were diving into the very bottom of the pool, suddenly becoming quite short of breath, like your lungs had a switch that was constantly getting flicked on and off, like oxygen had been diluted, like-
∵ catagory: angst (will be smut; will mention some mental illnesses/disorders; will brush on topics like stalkers and obsessions so pls be careful if this is a trigger for you)
∵ a/n: so this is a yoongi fic i have begun, it was supposed to be a lighthearted story line but i had an epiphany and boom this is the outcome
parts : | 1 | (more to come)
somnambulist — (n). a person who sleepwalks.
walking.
you were walking; left, right, left, right, like any other hominid on this planet. walking through what looked like central park in new york at about 2:37am, with nothing except a slight mingle of moon and street light, casting a yellow tinge and apparent shadow on the park life -or lack thereof.
except, so it would seem, central park never used to have a huge swimming pool right there did it?
you won’t question it, or the fact that the edges were surrounded by roses, in each varying colour of a rainbow.
you don’t know at what point you decided you were to go swimming, but before you knew it you were diving into the very bottom of the pool, suddenly becoming quite short of breath, like your lungs had a switch that was constantly getting flicked on and off, like oxygen had been diluted, like-
“can i help you?”
a groggy, seemingly pissed off voice caused my eyes to pull themselves open, and be faced by a rather attractive, sleep deprived boy in his pyjamas.
woah.
you looked up from his eye-line chest to his mouth which was turned down in a moody shape, to his eyes which were heavily bagged and dark. very dark.
“i am so so sorry,” you began backing up a little m, “i must have been.. come to think of it, i’m not entirely sure how i got here.”
“are you serious?”
his forehead buried further into his brows at this.
“completely,” my eyes were wide and filled with honesty, as they seemed to leak smoothly into his... now is not the time!
“whereabouts do you live? i’ll take you home.” he grabbed a pair of sneakers from the shoe rack next to his front door and slipped them on to his bare feet.
i began to object, “really you don’t have to-“
“i insist, you seem rather lost and i’d feel too bad just leaving you in the middle of my corridor.”
his face was still serious and stern, not showing any signs of earnest.
the two of you began walking towards the elevator, neither of you speaking a word.
“so,” you picked at the cotton thread on the bottom of my t-shirt you slept in, “what’s your name?”
the boy sighed and did not turn to me as he replied, “yoongi.”
“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” you gave him a smile, like you hadn’t just dragged him out bed at 3 in the morning and then forced him to walk me back to your apartment.
“what floor?”
“excuse me?”
“what floor- what floor is your apartment?”
he was starting to get more and more agitated by what you were saying, and you started to cower slightly at his growing temper.
“fl-floor 22.”
he pressed the button to floor 22, the bell dinging cheerily to signify the upcoming arrival. the mood of 3am in an elevator had shifted to just pure awkwardness now, neither one of you really up for idle small talk.
you took this time to finally appreciate his features. yoongi’s posture held that of a lazy person’s; slouched and lacking any motivation. however, you didn’t let that faze you considering he was probably still half asleep. his hair was a black clump scruffed up on the crown of his hair, the evidence of deep sleep (therefore making my guilt grow). his eyes were hooded and coffee black. his lips arched in a perfect, kissable bow. he smelt like lingering black coffee, as if the smell never left him, no matter how much he washed.
you had barely even noticed the bell in the elevator ding and the doors open before you finished taking in all of yoongi’s features.
“well, this is me. thank you for walking me to my apartment, and sorry for the disturbance again,” you looked down bashfully.
“yeah-” yoongi seemed barely interested in what you had to say, “-sure.”
and with that, the mysterious, grumpy boy from downstairs turned on his heels and left, but not with a sense of finality. you felt it wasn’t the end of something, but rather, the beginning.
you awoke at 7:30 the next morning; no earlier, no later, as you always had. your apartment’s bedroom window allowed yellow sunrise to stream through, as you had clearly forgotten to pull the blinds down last night. silly me you thought to yourself, lumbering across my cold wooden floors towards your kitchen , and more importantly - to coffee.
as you flicked the button of my coffee machine, a thud of déjà vu hit you at the smell of black coffee. where did that come from? you simply pushed aside the tugging feeling of a missing memory, not wanting to tamper with the feeling of discomfort. adding two sugars to the cup, you sipped the cup of coffee thoughtfully. what am i forgetting? did i leave my straighteners on as i slept? did i fall out with a friend? nothing would spring to mind no matter how much you racked it.
time was ticking till work was to begin, and you found yourself dashing to shove your daps on and grabbing your big puffa jacket that you wore. work took its form in a small studio on the south side, that entailed a canvas backdrop wall and a camera, as well as a mini office set up next to the window. you wrote your own cocktails of editorials in an independent fashion magazine, and made a comfortable living off of it. it was pleasant and it was a passion and you met tons of individuals each passing day.
the elevator seemed to take hours to reach floor twenty two, as if it was too caught up in its own affairs to bother helping your progressing lateness. being late was never a deal you had cared to gamble in,and so this morning was a new and unfamiliar occurrence. as if on its own timetable, the doors slid open inertly and you hopped in.
to add to the extra stress of the day, besides having a client scarcely five minutes away from your office block, the doors opened 5 seconds after just shutting to reveal- him.
as if all the lost pieces of your recollection had come together again, you finally realised why the smell of black coffee had impulsed your limbic system this morning.
“it’s you.” he looked you up and down, as if seeing you in person for the first time.
“it’s you,” you returned, smiling faintly bashfully. the blush matched the colour of your rose tinted beanie.
his eyes wandered down you once again abrasively, “you look different in non-pyjamas.”
“as do you,” you couldn’t help but agree and beam, “how did you sleep?”
the question caused his eyebrows to quirk in incredulity, yet his bowed lips stayed in the same straight line, “excuse me?”
you found yourself back in the same state as last night after you made faux pars, fearful and now subdued.
“i just meant-” you began in an embarrassed rush, “-did you get back to sleep okay after you got home?”
“what gave you the impression i was asleep before you’d disturbed me?”
“well i just assumed-”
“you shouldn’t make assumptions.”
his lack of manners urged you to challenge him; whether you liked to admit it or not, you secretly loved people who put up a fight. because you’d always fight back.
“i do apologise. clearly yawning, with sleep in their eyes in their pyjamas at three am was a poor assumption to make.”
“yes. it was.”
and with that, the elevator doors opened, and you both parted ways, and instead of feeling guilt towards yoongi of downstairs, you just felt pure annoyance.
hi hi so i just got twitter and have no followers yet obvs but like i’ll be tweeting abt updates n general kpop etc so if you’d like then gimme a follow @ellfrancescaa
