"What are you doing?"
You'd really love to say that your voice is strong, clear and precise when you speak, and that your resistance is legitimate and genuine.
You'd like to say that your hands are strong and steady as they push the man against you out of reach.
But none of those things would be true.
As Jeon Jungkook uses the handy cleaning tool of his tongue to decimate the chocolate on the sensitive skin of your neck, all you can do is close your hands into a fist and strain back against the wall, unable to think or move.
His mouth is so hot against you that it feels like your skin is seconds away from melting right off of you. Every mashing press of the lip, every sly slip of the tongue is only adding more gasoline to the raging fire of your body.
He has this magical power over you; every time he's near you with less-than admirable intentions, you turn into a sitting duck waiting to be shot by his amorous advances.
Jungkook's mouth is slowly working it's way up your neck, his tongue striking hot slashes through the cool chocolate plastered to your skin.
It's an odd mix of contrasts; cold chocolate against warm lips, unyielding metal against soft skin.
Cold and hot and hard and soft and pressure and heat and madness.
You hate this man, but you really don't, because he's brave and strong and broken, and his hand that's now grasping the curve of your hip is protective and provocative at the same time.
Or, possessive is more like it.
Vaguely, in the very back corner of your brain where your mind is still functioning, you wonder what he's got to be possessive over.
You two don't know each other, not really.
He doesn't know you.
But the though flees your mind when the man at your neck nips you lightly.
The room is totally silent save for the combined huffs of your heavy breathing with his. Every single touch is like a live wire pressed to your skin.
Every now and then Jungkook trades off the heavy kisses for a light skimming of his teeth, just barely scraping them across the sensitive skin of your neck, sending lightening strikes wheeling through your veins.
He doesn't acknowledge that you spoke at all a moment ago, continuing his slow, sensual ascent up the column of your neck, alternating between sucking open-mouthed kisses and long, leisurely drags of his tongue.
He's obviously determined to get every single inch of chocolate off of you alone and without helped.
Your hands hover uselessly at your side until Jungkook takes over for you.
The hand on the wall beside your hip slides up to where your own hand hangs, wrapping hotly around your wrist. Jungkook guides your hand toward him, onto him, tracing your hand around his back to embrace him.
He lets go, but you keep going.
Up and around his back, skimming over where the sharp angle of his shoulder blades juts out, over where the broad length of his shoulders slope downward as he hunches over you for better access to your skin. You can't help but to let your hands press to be warmth of him, holding on like a lifeline as he knocks every bit of sense out of you.
You press against his shoulder, and he winces, but refuses to pull away from you.
He's up to your jaw now.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Ink ✔️Fanfiction
"That's my tattoo, Y/N, on your body. You know exactly what that means." BTS Jungkook x Reader tattoo artist AU gang AU Thanks and credits to all of the original artists of the amazing edits and fan arts, as well as the creator of the cover @namjo...