Wow! This Is Amazing. Can't Wait For Part 2

Wow! This is amazing. Can't wait for part 2

a well-oiled machine | i

➛pairing: jungkook x reader ➛genre: android au, futuristic au, prostitute au, fluff, angst, smut (next part) ➛words: 14.3k ➛rating: sfw ➛warnings: none in particular in this part– some slight drunken behaviour and an android in bad shape! hints at previous abuse ➛notes: for @cinnaminsvga !! happy birthday zee!! i wuv u uwu !! <33 enjoy your roboporn u mecha slutte – I’m sorry its not completely done!! I’ll do my best to pull the rest out my ass asap!!! <3 <3 <3

Your life takes a bit of a turn when you stumble upon an android in pieces, hidden in an alleyway in an area known for its shadows and debauchery. Taking him home to fix him might have been the best decision you’d ever made, but perhaps there was a little more to the android JK01-97 than you’d initially thought.

→posted; 20.08.2018

→ masterlist | part ii

Through the cool blue and lilac glow that fell from the holographic signs lining the streets, the fat droplets beginning to pelt from the sky and the darkness that began to linger alongside the buildings, a form was just barely visible. Jumbled and disorganised, a mess of metal and synthetic material that had seen better days was propped against a dumpster and the brick wall behind it. Hovering vehicles sped past, women in heels and men in dress shoes strode by, all oblivious to the shape hidden just inside the alley. The droplets that had sprinkled now began to pour from the heavens in earnest, and the form began to grow soaked. Water pooled across the chipped and uneven concrete, dripping and mixing with the deep, burnt violet that trickled slowly from metallic shapes that looked vaguely like limbs, the metal torn and busted, and the flesh-like material spread across it ripped and ruined. As the remaining light of day fled the sky and the distant rumble of brontide pierced the damp air, time began to run out for the form. It had been there for days, untouched by anything but nature, and while the LED light in its eyes had managed to remain, now it had begun to flicker. It was a hopeless night, a hopeless storm growing closer, and the glow of the signs’ light reflecting across the puddles was beginning to overpower the form’s own.

He didn’t have much longer at all.

x   x     x     x     x     x     x     x     x

The Red Light District wasn’t a place you enjoyed visiting, nor one you frequented by choice. Rather, it was a necessary evil; just on the other side of the district lay a waste field, ripe with discarded technology and all the parts in the world a simple tinkerer like you could ever want. Normally, someone such as yourself seeking to pilfer the field for parts and goods would be refused entry, but you had the luck of knowing and befriending the owner. Mr Bang was a retired scientist, an inventor of sorts, who’d specialised in AI and had even mentored some of your friends in their studies before he reached an age where he decided it was time to leave the profession. It was, in a way, quite peculiar that he now owned and managed what was essentially a trash yard for discarded technology. From simple things like microwaves and hoverboards to the rare early-age android, He collected them and stored them. The only place he’d managed to find big enough for all his, well, junk had been the warehouse on the other side of the Red Light District. And so, that was where you had to go— actually, it was where you were trying to go right now, if the storm and resulting traffic decided to let up.

Your car was somewhat a relic of an older time, but still technologically advanced enough that it was allowed on the road with other vehicles. You’d grown up being taught to drive by your parents, and secretly longed to be able to drive your own car, but the laws in this day and age were quite clear. On roads that hovercraft and wheeled vehicles shared, only automatic, self-driving units were allowed. Gone were the days when you controlled the speed of your own car, the turns and brakes. It was nice not having to think about all of those things on the journey to your destination, but at the same time you found it gave you too much time to think. While it took more mental capacity, driving in itself was a mindless sort of activity. You liked that it quietened your thoughts, but supposed you’d just have to deal as always with how loud they were for now.

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Love this chapter.

Sweeter than Sweet (71)

AO3 link

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jungkook x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Fluff.  Such fluff.  Author attempts to be funny (with varying levels of success)

Word count: 5K

Previous / Next

Gif not mine - please contact me should this belong to you so I can properly credit

Despite whatever reservations the group may have harboured about your wishes to seek out employment when you’d initially voiced them, not one of them had then attempted to interfere with your plans after Hoseok had given his blessings, and for that, you’re truly grateful.  Sure, Jimin had still layered on the warnings to stay alert and stay safe pretty thick - and continues to do so now - but for the most part he’d been nothing but supportive and had seemed sincere in his congratulations when you’d come home with nothing but good news and a bounce in your step following your interview at the bar; a contributing member of society once more.  

‘Interview’ was probably too formal a word for what it was, actually.  What your hiring had actually consisted of was a nervous car ride into town with Taehyung playing chauffeur and what then can only have been a fifteen-minute chat with the manager, Jack, as he’d juggled his attention between you and the patrons.  He’d shuffled up and down the bar to fetch their orders in an impressive display of multitasking, pouring drinks and talking back and forth with you over his shoulder, his smile just as kind as you’d always noted it to be during your many visits over the past few years.   

As luck would have it, Jack’s staffing situation had actually become even more dire since you’d first seen the ‘help wanted’ sign in the window during your visit with Yoongi a few weeks back.  One of his most loyal employees had been taken ill unexpectedly - right in the middle of the holiday season - and didn’t look like likely to return any time soon, so when you’d told him how eager you were to work all the night shifts he had to offer Jack had regarded you like you might just be a dream come true.  No inquiries about whether you’d had any prior experience, just a question of how soon you could start, and within the week you’re already three shifts in and enjoying your new found vocation.

And sure, you might be a little slow at mixing cocktails or pouring pints, and maybe you might’ve accidentally given away a couple of drinks for free when you’d gotten so flustered about having kept someone waiting that you’d forgotten to charge, but honestly, Jack just seems glad of the help.  He doesn’t even inquire as to why you insist on wearing a scarf around your neck throughout the entirety of your shifts, or why you have to pause to occasionally catch your breath when you get a little dizzy; face turning pale.  

It’s at moments such as these that Yoongi will suddenly appear at the bar and ask if you’re alright, emerging from whichever spot he’ll have been loitering in, keeping an eye on your safety throughout the night.  It’s at his insistence that he does so, though he’s promised it won’t be forever; just until you’ve been there a while and they’re confident you’ll be safe.  Secretly, you have a theory that he rather likes coming along with you and losing himself in the anonymity of the crowd, and more than once you’re sure you’ve seen him eyeing up the piano from across the room, fingers twitching as if he’s longing to play again.  You hope that eventually he’ll work up the courage to do so, and when he does you’ll be sure to have a celebratory shot waiting for him at the bar.  

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Wow! Love Blackjack!!

Blackjack (X)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jungkook

Rating: 18+ (explicit violence)

Warnings: action / violence (including guns/knives)

Word Count: 15,024

Summary: Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as ‘the shadow.’ When you become indebted to the worst of the worst – how, exactly can you find a way out?

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Cute! Jungkook is adorable!

characters : jungkook x reader

genre : sperm-donor!au, single-parent!au, gardener!jungkook, fluff

word count : 8.6k

warnings : jungkook is shirtless watch out, the reader being tipsy and thirsty for jungkook, a slight instance of infidelity

one | two | three

Five Years Later

 Some say that childbirth is the hardest thing a woman can go through. That its something that not only tests you physically, but also mentally. Right now, however, at 8:02 AM on a Wednesday morning as you battled with a five-year-old to get their shoes on, you had to disagree.

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Aah so cute :)

Orectic (M)

Orectic (adj) - ‘of or concerning desire or appetite’ 

Pairing: Hoseok x hybrid!reader

Warnings: Gratuitous, tooth-rotting fluff.  Smut; kissing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, ?breeding kink if you squint hard enough.  

Word count: 21K

Thank you @yminie for my beautiful moodboard!

“It’ll just be for the week, and it isn’t like you guys haven’t spent any time together by yourselves before!”

It’d seemed like a harmless enough request when Jung Hoseok’s sister had first called him to request he come play sitter for the week; an opportunity to make some quick, easy cash during the winter months when attendance to the dance classes he taught inevitably started to wane.  

“C’mon, it’ll be fine!”

Sitting was probably the wrong word for it, anyway.  You weren’t so much a pet; his elder sibling had always been very firm on that matter from the very second she’d first brought you home. You were a companion, a confidant - a best friend who just so happened to be blessed with pointed feline ears, a sleek, silken tail, and a propensity for jumping three foot in the air whenever you turn around to find a well-placed snake-come-cucumber that Hobi may or may not have planted there a few minutes earlier.  

Yes, you may have a complete and utter dependence on your guardian to keep a roof over your head and food on the table, but that’s not your fault.  And it’s not as though his sister is wrong; the two of you do get on.  

Well… at least these days you do.  

When the two of you had first met over a year ago you’d been incredibly wary of him, to begin with; almost to the point where you’d visibly flinch whenever he dare address you or if he ever sat just that little bit too close.  Your history hadn’t been disclosed by the shelter when his sister had offered you a home, but it didn’t take a genius to take a guess as to why you might be so nervous at having an unfamiliar male in your home.  

While the practice has recently been made illegal, sexual exploitation remains a grotesque and unfortunate reality for all too many hybrids since they were created less than half a century ago, and it’s something you’ve remained resolutely silent about regardless of the gentle questioning Hoseok’s sister has put you through.  It breaks his heart to think that that might’ve been something that you’d had to face in the past, but if it was something you’d been subjected to, you sure as hell don’t seem about to admit it.  

So, without a legitimate excuse with which to refuse his sister’s pleading request, Hobi finds himself agreeing to keep you company for the coming week ahead.  It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other so he knows you’ll probably take a little while to warm up to him again, but that’s ok; he’s always been the patient sort.  There’s always the catnip he’s stashed in the bottom of his overnight bag, too, should the situation ever be so dire that it’s needed.

The journey to his sister’s place doesn’t take too long - half an hour, give or take - and along the way Hobi isn’t ignorant to the lift in his mood with every mile that passes.  He’ll never say it out loud, but ever since his old housemate Yoongi moved out (a convenience thing, rather than any ill-feeling between the two of them) the apartment has felt far too quiet.  It’ll be nice to have someone to spend some time with; something to break up the monotony of his ever-present thoughts.  

Index finger pressed firmly against your doorbell, Hobi’s narrow hips swing from side to side at the tinny salsa tune he hears coming from the other side of the door to signal his arrival.  There’s a bright smile on his face by the time his sister answers, and when he opens up his arms to her, pulling her into a tight hug, her answering smile is just as wide.  

“Jiwoooooo!” he gushes as the familiar scent of her hair floods into his nostrils.  She smells safe - she smells like home - and Hobi finds himself lamenting it having been so long since the last time he came around.  There’s really no excuse; not when she only lives over the other side of town. “Still just as pretty, I see,” he admires as he pulls away, patting her cheek, and as she grins back he bends to pick up the overnight bag he’d rested down by his feet, stepping over the threshold.  

“Ever the charmer, ‘Seok,” she replies with a fond roll of her eyes, pushing the front door closed behind him, “How’s that working out for you?  Lured any poor, unsuspecting women into your clutches lately?”  

“Not since Soo-In, I’m afraid.”  Hobi laughs gleefully at the expression of disgust that contorts his sister’s features at the mention of the night he’d managed to successfully seduce one of her friends - much to her horror at the time.  “I must’ve lost my edge.”  

Secretly, he’s worried that he might have.  He hasn’t slept with anyone at all since then, and six months is starting to feel like an awfully long time…

“We can but hope,” she snarks, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised as she snatches Hobi’s bag right out from his hand and deposits it at the bottom of the stairs before sweeping past him and into the living room.  She grabs a jacket hung on the back of one of her soft, crushed velvet armchairs (Hobi’s always thought they’re hideous, but then who is he to talk about good taste?) as she goes and promptly folds it into away her own suitcase, unzipped and hanging open upon her coffee table.

“So, New York, huh?  You excited?”  He watches her pack, stowing away all the last few essentials she’ll need for the trip she’s barely stopped talking about since she found out she was going just a short few weeks ago.  Folding his arms, he notes the time on his watch; she needs to leave soon, or she’ll be late for her flight.  Typical Jiwoo, always cutting it fine.  

“You have no idea,” she grins maniacally, pausing with her case half zipped up, one sleeve of something hanging out the side, “People are actually gonna see my designs, Hobi.  Finally!  Important people!”

“So I hear,” he smiles back, and underneath his crossed arms he feels his chest swell with emotion, “Proud of you, sis.”  

“I know.”  She stuffs the sleeve back in and hurriedly seals the case the rest of the way, patting it firmly once it’s done.  “Maybe when I’m a famous fashionista you might actually listen to some of my tips.  God knows you need them.”  

This time it’s Hobi’s turn to fondly roll his eyes.

“Anyway, the fridge and freezer are fully stocked, all you gotta do is get stuff out in the morning to defrost and try to make it through the week without giving yourself food poisoning.”  She hauls her case off of the table with a groan and it thuds heavily on the hardwood floor as she sets it down.  He dreads to think how much she’s paid for the extra luggage allowance… “There’s plenty of fish, plenty of lacto-free milk - but you don’t need to worry about that.”  

Nodding, Hobi unfolds his arms and takes a glance around the room at the mention of your rather specific dietary needs.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’s not noticed you when entering a room; sometimes you sit so silent and still that it’s almost as though you’re not really there until you chose to reveal yourself.  He swears you do it on purpose, actually, just to watch him jump and shriek when you suddenly appear, an amused little smile tugging at your lips as he clutches his chest in fear.  

“Speaking of; where is my ward?”

“Kitchen,” she replies shortly, exhaling a sigh, “She’s busy doing that whole ‘cold shoulder’ thing she always does whenever she knows I’m going away.”  

“Oh.”  Taking a few steps forward, Hobi’s able to lean forward to peer round the door to the kitchen which stands slightly ajar, and through the gap he can just about make out your stiff form sat at the kitchen table, back straight and pen in hand.  

“Ah, she’ll be fine,” his sister dismisses with a wave of her hand, and as her hand passes her face Hobi notices her eyes suddenly widen as she catches a glimpse at the time.  “Hooo shit.  Will you shove this in the car for me while I say bye?  ThankyouIloveyou,” she gushes, thrusting her suitcase towards him, and like the obliging younger brother he is Hobi does as she asks, lugging her case out onto the drive and stowing it away in the ridiculously small trunk of her equally ridiculous car with an exaggerated groan.  

By the time he finds his way back inside and into the kitchen, his sister’s whole torso is wrapped around you from behind, your face almost entirely obscured by the blanket of long, black hair that surrounds you.  

“Gonna miss you,” he hears Jiwoo say, squeezing you in her grasp as Hobi watches you attempt to huff her hair out from your face in a series of heavy, exasperated exhales.  

“You better,” comes your snarky reply, and after a moment more your pen is begrudgingly laid down and you’re squeezing his sister’s forearm as you quietly insist that she fly safely.  When Jiwoo releases you, standing straight, Hobi’s is both surprised and oddly moved by the glassiness he sees in your eyes when they dart his way, your lips parting, embarrassed at being seen in such a way.  He wishes that your spine didn’t stiffen again so suddenly on seeing him, or that your tail didn’t immediately increase in size where it hanging through the slats of the kitchen chair on which you sit, glossy fur standing up on end.  

It’s only a temporary reaction - he knows that - but it still kinda hurts.  

“Hey kitkat,” he smiles, raising one hand in a lame, gentle wave that you slowly return, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you nervously look him up and down with eyes that are just a tiny bit too large for your face.  He’s been calling you by that nickname for almost as long as he’s known you, and though you’d initially bristled on hearing it, Hobi couldn’t help but notice over time that a light blush that had started to colour your cheeks whenever he’d say it; a sweet little glimpse at the softness that lays underneath your somewhat frosty exterior.  

“Hello Hoseok,” you answer softly, and oh, Hobi had forgotten the way the hairs on the back of his neck always stand up whenever you say it that way.  You’re the only person in his life who ever, ever addresses him by his full name, and if he’s honest with himself, he’d happily keep it that way if he could.  

Neither of you says anything then, after that, and in the seconds that follow Hoseok’s sister looks back and forth between the two of you, curiously chewing her bottom lip“Well,” she announces to break the silence, walking from the space she’d occupied behind you to approach Hobi instead, her arms held open wide in invitation to a parting hug, “I’ll just leave you two chatterboxes to it, shall I?”  

“Love you,” he mumbles into his sister’s hair, embracing her with all the strength he can muster.  He may be the younger sibling, but he’s always been fiercely protective of his big sister, and he has a sneaking suspicion that no matter how old they get that’ll always remain the same.  “Have fun, alright?”  

“Oh you bet your ass I will,” Jiwoo grins as she extracts herself from his arms.  She looks between Hobi and you, frowning slightly when she sees the way you’re shyly staring down at the crossword puzzle you’ve been working on for the majority of the morning rather than at her brother stood opposite, a pen in your hand and your pointed ears flicking anxiously this way and that.  “You two will be ok, right?” she checks, and Hobi gives her his best, most reassuring smile.  

“Course we will,” he enthuses, directing all the positivity he can muster your way and smiling even more broadly when you meekly return it, tail swishing gently behind you from side to side, “Right, kitkat?”

“Sure.  Right.”  

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Love this fiction so much! Check out Gukyi's other fictions, they are amazing :)

the millionaire and his lover | jjk

⇒ summary: over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception. 

⇒ self-gratuitous ceo au, friends-to-lovers, and fake relationship trope rolled into one big shitstorm of a jungkook fic

⇒ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⇒ word count: 18k

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, and light smut

⇒ warnings: alcohol mentions, smut

⇒ a/n: hello all! i wanted to kickoff my writing on this blog with a bang, so here’s a longish fic on my wildest dreams. 

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