09: Connect Two

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Go read the chapter before this first if you haven't. Double update

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," you mumble, turning woodenly for the door, mind blown. "I'm just going to go throw myself off the nearest cliff. Have a nice day."

"No no no! After." Hoseok intercepts you easily, steering you by the shoulders back towards your ultimate doom. "You can jump off a cliff after the pictures. That way your death won't be for nothing."

"Hey!" you protest, but stop when you hear a snicker of amusement from a certain black-headed, tatted-up, probably-criminal idiot.


Oh, no.

This is not okay. Your brain is still trying to process the fact that you're going to share a tattoo with this moron for the rest of your life.

Why did nobody say anything before you got the freaking matching pattern carved into your skin?

A blast of feral anger hits you out of nowhere and you're about ready to claw his pretty black eyes right out of the bruised socket.

Speaking of that black eye?


Zero regrets.

In fact, you should've kicked him in the crotch while you were at it.

Jungkook returns your fierce glare with every bit of strength you've thrown into it.

However, pushing your anger to a back corner of your mind, you force yourself back to the subject at hand.

You can kill him later.

"Okay, so when you say 'connecting'," you scrunch your fingers up in air quotations, "-what exactly do you mean?"

Hoseok, busy gathering supplies, doesn't stop to answer your question. Instead, he strides off down the hall with a camera in one hand and a case in the other, leaving you to scramble after him in search of a response.

At least he does respond.

"Jungkook," Hoseok says as you walk at a quick pace. "Could you take your shirt off to show Y/N?"

Take his-

Take his shirt off?!

Before your freak out comes to it's full manifestation, the black-headed Korean god that followed the two of you down the hall reaches for the hem of his sweater.

No you don't think you can take th-

But it's too late.

Jungkook's already peeled the sweater halfway up his ridiculously toned body, revealing with each inch of the lifting maroon material a body that you should bow down and worship.

The tiny waist, the six pack abs, the elegant collarbone; Jungkook has it all.

And every. Freaking. Inch. Is covered in ink.

Lick him. Do it now.

"What the heck," you say to yourself, zombie-like and still staring at the man in front of you.. "My mind is literally turning against me. Where's that cliff when I need it?"

Not to mention the cluster of flowers connected by a twisting vine that's working it's way down his right side, beginning at his ribs and ending in a curve at his hip bone.

Perfectly ending where yours begins.

If you stand in front of him, facing him, your tattoos will line up to form one almost seamless line down the length of your bodies.

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