Blood ink wattpad

You know exactly what that blood ink wattpad. It's a familiar scene, standing back outside the door of the tattoo shop and watching the black-haired Yoongi blow smoke into the air like a tiny, grumpy dragon. He sees you outside again, and grins slightly. He waves his hand towards himself.

You know exactly what that means. You're covering your tattoo. With a long suffering sigh, Jungkook lifts his arm and drapes it over your shoulder, letting his hand hang loosely across your back. It's only been about ten minutes since you started taking pictures, but you're already tired of it. Hoseok is obviously a perfectionist.

Blood ink wattpad

You know exactly what that means. It's not that you can't understand the appeal of his request; brushing lips against a creation of his own hand that expresses everything he is, ever has been, and ever could be. It isn't you that he wants to kiss, per say, not in the basest form of his mouth warm on your skin. What he wants is to feel against him everything the ink traced into your skin represents, alone and in conjunction with his own same mark splayed across the dips and hills of his ribs. Nor are you mystified by his desire by its upfront view. He's attracted to you, and wants to touch you where he's made a permanent mark on your skin. The line of thinking seems to coincide with that of a male animal rubbing their scents onto the animals of their pack. His mouth is plush and sweetly pursed, innocently pouted despite the harsh contrast of the black metal rings hooked around. The pink skin is reddened slightly on the bottom from where he's bitten it, but it doesn't take away from the soft, gentle parting of them. His eyes are almost obscene, almost lewd in the pure, unadulterated heat that's blazing through them. His thickly-lashed lids are low and heavy, nearly obscuring the fire-hot black behind them that's robbing you of your breath. The sharp angle of his thick black brows arch above, giving way to the smooth expanse of his forehead, shaded by a brushing of pitch-black fringe. Jungkook's hovering as close to you as possible, his forehead brushing yours, lips parted as your breaths tangle together.

You're a hoe.

You know exactly what that means. There's a freedom in death that you'd like to have. If you were gone, that would be it. No more running, no more hiding, no more fear. Your family would stop looking for you, and the Bangtan Boys wouldn't have to face your problems.

You know exactly what that means. It'll be like ripping off a Band-Aid: fast, and hopefully only slightly painful. You hover outside the glass doors of the tattoo shop, peering into the gloomy depths beyond. The difference between the bright, sunlit street you're standing on now and the dark space inside is incredible. It's like a whole different world in there. The walls are dark, covered up in sketches and ideas, sample art and pictures of past clients.

Blood ink wattpad

You know exactly what that means. We regret to inform you that the position which you have applied for has been filled. We appreciate your application. Disheartened, you stare miserably at the rejection email from the restaurant you applied to wash dishes at. This is the third rejection this week. Kim, of course, isn't your real surname, and you haven't involved any in-depth personal information on the applications, but it's still frustrating all the same.

Kenny veach

Not Dead. Of what? He's fiddled with the lighting and shadows, changed the angle of your embrace three times, and keeps on scampering over to fix Jungkook's jeans, which are slowly but surely edging down to show his underwear. I'm trying. Not Dead. The two tussle and banter back and forth, but you can't pay any attention to what they're saying. Send to Friend. He sees you outside again, and grins slightly. He pulls a little harder on your hair. You know exactly what that means. Promoted stories.

.

You can see his entire chest clearly, including the big work of art across the right side of his torso that partially flows over his tight abs. Send to Friend. The steam is so thick that you almost can't breathe through it. You'll also like. Those piercing doe eyes, and the nose below sloping elegantly down to an uneven mouth with a thin upper lip but a full lower one are unmistakably familiar, studded with the same double lip piercings, one in each side of his bottom lip. Both of your gazes trail back to the two men locked in the staring contest of the century. He gets the the entrance of the hallway, pauses mid-step, and backtracks until he's standing in front of you. However, you'll choose death any day before returning to that gilded bird cage in your father's glistening home. Other than the initial deep eye contact between the two of you, you've been avoiding meeting the other's gaze. Hoseok allows him to take the paper back, never losing the cat-like grin spread across his face. New Reading List. Your mind is blown by how he can portray two such different emotions in one facial expression. When he returns to the pervious position, Jungkook allows his fingers to capture a strand of your hair. New Reading List. The shower is refreshing, washing away any lingering lethargy from your skin and warming you up from the morning chill.