BTS Imagines 2 [REWRITING]

Jungkook ♡ Tangled Up | Rapunzel AU [request]

Published: May 16, 2019
Rewritten: June 17, 2026

Word count: 5,840

Requested by @jogyfishyo_

DO NOT read or interact if you're under 14

You stared out the large window of the tower that served as both your home and your prison. You were well-acquitted with the brick walls of the fortress that kept you hidden from outsiders. For as long as you could remember, you'd been locked up with no way to leave. There were no doors or even stairs, just a single window that you used to peer out into the world beyond.
You yearned for freedom, yearned to see the world and experience the things that had been kept from you.

"Y/n!" The exclamation of your name shattered your daydream and you peered down at the grass below.
Standing at the foot of the tower was your mother, a satchel tossed over her shoulder as she waited to be brought up. You exhaled a sigh and gathered your long locks off the wooden floor, tossing it out the window, watching it unfurl as it fell to the bottom of the tower.
Your mother grabbed on and made her way up. Once she climbed over the window's ledge and into the room, she let out a heavy exhale of exhaustion, flipping a strand of hair back away from her face.

(Mother is Hoseok from the House of Army video lol my sister gave me the idea)

"I brought groceries." She announced, flourishing the satchel she carried with her.
"Thank goodness. I'm starving." You vocalized, pulling your egregiously long hair back inside the tower. "What did you bring?"
She removed the contents of the bag, producing a loaf of bread, some fruit, vegetables, dried beans, and a jar of jam.
You took in a small gasp of excitement. It wasn't often she brought back specialties like jam, so it was always a treat when she did. Reflexively, you reached for the glass jar, but your mother swiped it away before you could grasp it.

"Ah. Hold on just a moment."
"What?" You pouted.
"Before we make dinner, come have a seat by the fire."
You groaned dramatically, throwing your head back. You knew what she was getting at.
"Don't make a fuss, Y/n. Come on." She took your hand and pulled you over to a small wooden chair and you took a seat.
You watched in complacent silence as she took a hairbrush off the table sitting nearby.
"Can you sing that beautiful song you always sing while I brush your hair?"
"Mother, please." You grumbled. "I don't want to."
"Just do it. For me?" She begged sweetly.
You relented with a defeated sigh.