#jk but Y’know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kooktrash · 1 year ago

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seven days to love | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is nothing but your obnoxious new coworker who can’t seem to get the hint that you’re not interested. he’s loud, clumsy, and a bit of a player who knows his way with girls. what started off as an immediate physical attraction toward you quickly changed to a full blown crush that jungkook just can’t seem to let go. for seven days the two of you must work together alone at the store and each day jungkook takes as a chance to get you to notice him.

➣ genre/au: coworker jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], co workers au, smut. himbo jk

➣ 14.2k words

warnings: smut. jk is obsessed with reader in a cute way. based off seven music video but he’s as slutty as the lyrics. he’s a gym rat who likes to read comics and talk about y/n. workplace sëx. oral [both receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally at a record store having sex on the cash counter at the end. slapping. choking. hair pulling. switch jk. reader is insecure in relationships. jk likes to be yelled at. reader hates him but he’s all heart eyes googoo gaga. oc is mean at times but they’re lowkey v similar except Jk Is v clumsy. oc has piercings and tattoo but in a girly pop way

song inspo: seven — jeon jungkook

There was something soothing about reorganizing vinyls to your liking. You like them in a specific order that not everyone can replicate and that’s why it’s your zone. You’re the one in charge of organizing them, not anyone else, so why does Jeon Jungkook keep fucking with them?

“Jungkook!”

He practically jumped over the cashier’s counter to run to you, bumping into a rack of CDs and making a couple fall. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he lifted his index finger asking you to wait just one second. Your arms were crossed over your chest impatiently and you watched him pick them up from

the floor and try to reorganize them, only for a couple more to fall.

“Jungkook,” you repeated and this time around he just let them go and went to you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Did you touch my vinyls again?” You watched as he slowly blinked, eyes shifting to the side as if Taehyung — who was watching the interaction safely in the sound booth — would help him out. Taehyung just smiled and leaned further against the window to get a better look at what he can only presume is Jungkook’s third murder this week.

“Uh, no?” He wasn’t smiling or anything but you could clearly see the way his dimples teased their way out when he looked at what you wore today. His attention drifted away and it took everything in you not to snapp your fingers and make him look back up. Instead you just took a step toward the shelf and tried to continue.

“Really?” You asked as you pointed a finger to a section, “So why is Chemtrails Over the Country Club next to Ultraviolence Deluxe when their releases are seven years apart?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Don’t you color code them?”

“No,” you released a small sigh as you grabbed the vinyl and put it in its rightful spot between Blue Banisters and Norman F****** Rockwell, “I do it by release date.”

“But wouldn’t it be more—“ Jungkook stopped his train of thought when he paid attention to the small twitch in your eye, “You know what, my bad Y/n, I just wanted to make it easier for you but I get it. I wouldn’t want you fucking up my comic book order.”

“Glad, we have a mutual understanding then,” You said with a tight smile, “Don’t touch my vinyls.”

“Got it,” Jungkook smiled, “Hey, so later Taehyung and I are gonna go get some drinks after work, would you like to y’know co—“

“No.”

“That’s cool! Yeah, uh, it was probably gonna be boring!” Jungkook yelled after you as you left him, “Not even worth your time, I get it! I mean, we can do something else if you’re intereste—“

“I’m not,” you said as you dragged a cart full of boxes toward the backroom, “Thanks for the offer though.”

Jungkook watched you leave him with a smile on his face that made him look like a complete idiot because it has become very clear to everyone else that you don’t like him.

“Wow, you’re so pathetic it’s actually funny,” Taehyung laughed as he came running down from the loft. Jungkook lifted his middle finger to him as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

“Am I ugly?” Jungkook asked.

“A little,” Jimin said with a shrug.

“Is that why Y/n doesn’t like me?” Jungkook asked, looking back at his friend.

“Y/n doesn’t like anyone, don't take it personal,” Taehyung said honestly, “But she especially doesn’t like you because you can’t take a hint.”

Jungkook released a dramatic gasp, “What do you mean?”

“Kook, you’ve been working here two weeks already and Y/n has not shown a single ounce of interest in you, give it up already,” Taehyung patted Jungkook on the shoulder reassuringly. Jungkook shook his hand off, “Maybe she’s not good at picking up hints.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Taehyung said, beginning to walk away back to the sound booth where music played from, “Y/n doesn’t like guys who seem like players.”

“But she doesn’t even know me,” Jungkook said, “I’m not a player…”

“Kook, you’ve had zero girlfriends in the past two years yet you always have some girl hanging off of you,” Taehyung told him, heading back upstairs, “Aren’t you messing around with someone right now?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head dumbly, “Yeah Yu—no, uh, Sua, I think, but it’s not really working out. She’s getting a little too clingy for my liking.”

“And now you’re trying to move onto Y/n?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle, swinging the sound booth door open and taking a seat. He flipped some notches on the sound board and a new song began to play, getting broadcasted on their small radio station.

“I mean she’s hot.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked with furrowed brows and said, “And that’s why it’ll never work out. You’re not her type.”

Jungkook stayed at the open door until Jimin shooed him away with a flick of his hand and he left.

It’s been about two weeks since he got this job with his close friend. Jungkook had been in search of a job for weeks when he went to Taehyung venting about it. His landlord had upped the price of rent for his one bedroom apartment and told him last minute so it was very unexpected. He already had another job working part time at a fitness center but it wasn’t paying enough so he switched it up. He would like to go back to fitness training but right now he needs to save up and get his shit settled before he makes any changes.

On his first day he only worked with Taehyung and his boss, Namjoon, he didn’t meet you till about two days later and he was immediately attracted to you. You weren’t the only one at work who caught his attention but you’re the main one. The others were cute but you’re the one that gets him a little excited to come to work.

It’s because you want nothing to do with him and he wants to know why. You don’t know him and sure, maybe you can tell that he might be a player but… he’s not a bad guy. You seemed to not like him at all from the get go and it’s not fair . The only people he sees you smiling at are Namjoon and Sungha.

What does he have to do to make you notice him? When he asked Taehyung earlier if he was ugly, it was just a bitter joke. He knows he’s not ugly. He knows that he can be charming and that he can get any girl he wants if he really wanted to, so why is it that the one he is focused on right now won’t even bat an eye in his direction unless it’s to tell him off?

He’ll admit, he does like the fact that you just won’t give him the time of day at all, it’s kinda hot. The way you roll your pretty eyes at him looking annoyed even if he can always find a hint of amusement in them. When you don’t pull your gaze away from his like most girls normally would, you’re not intimidated by him. He can say the most daring verse to you and you’ll just blankly stare at him and scoff. Don’t even get him started on how he feels when you stand there looking up at him because of your height difference and try to tell him off. He knows he’s supposed to feel scolded but he always gets a little giddy on the inside.

Since when was he ever into girls who were a little mean to him?

You never considered yourself a complicated person. If anything, you always felt like an open book, someone who people could easily read and learn about. You’ve only just recently begun to learn that that’s not the case at all, that in truth you are a very difficult person to read while also being predictable. It was all a jumbled mess and no matter how hard your friends tried explaining it to you right now you were a little too drunk to understand.

“I just can’t tell what you’re thinking half the time,” Jimin slurred on his words a bit as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into him. You scrunch your face in disgust trying to put some distance between you as he went on, “I mean… I’ve seen you turn down like three guys in the last hour. You mean to tell me not a single one of them interested you?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked around the club curiously, “Did a single one of them look interesting?”

Jimin didn’t say anything, taken back by your straight response and by the time he had figured out what to say, Sungha was pummeling right through him, “Oh my god, you won’t believe who I just saw!”

“Who?” Jimin asked as the two of you immediately forgot about your previous conversation.

It was a Saturday night and you were out drinking with your friends but at one point it became a small intervention between you and Jimin where he would tell you what was wrong with you. To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with you.

You haven’t been in a relationship in a while but that doesn’t mean you’ve completely shut men off. There’s been a few exceptions but you’ve learned that you are a very picky person. It’s not your fault that you know what you like and what you don’t. Sure, sometimes it might be a bit much but that’s why you choose to stay single. No real man is ever going to fit your male fantasy so why bother even going out with one?

You enjoy coming out with your friends at the end of the week to forget all the stress from work and school but that didn’t mean you had to entertain whatever bozo came offering up some short pick up line or cheap drink. You’re still trying to get Jimin to understand that.

“Jungkook!” Sungha squealed drunkenly, “I only saw him in passing but he was with some people.”

“I thought it was someone important,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, you waved her off, “Whatever, I’m gonna get another drink. Are you guys fine here?”

“Go ahead,” Jimin said, “I don’t want to lose our table.”

You left your two friends behind as you headed toward the bar at once more to get something to drink. Part of you felt a little wary now that Sungha has very enthusiastically said how she ran into Jungkook. What if you ran into him too? That would be so awkward. You already had to see him at work every day and you’re just not interested in having to deal with him outside of work too.

It’s not that you hate him, he amuses you with his weird antics but it’s just too much. You can’t tell if he follows you all around all day because he’s into you or if that is just how he usually is. He seems to be a player so this could just be how he is and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You’re not sure why he seems to always be at your side even when you’re very clearly annoyed by him, but he just never backs down. It’s exhausting even if you do think he’s attractive and charming.

When you got to the bar, some guy helped you cut through the crowd of loitering people and you were able to put your drink order in, taking note of the circular bar at the center of the room. It went all the way around and as you trained your eyes along the circular bar, your gaze landed on someone directly across from you on the other side of all the drinks.

So, Jungkook really is here.

You meant to look away but you found yourself taking in the sight of everyone surrounding him. He was turned away from you so all you saw was his side profile but you knew it was him either way. He was busy talking with two girls who laughed at everything he said and you’re sure he’s probably flirting his way through to their numbers. There were some guys around him who you assume are his other friends but he was entertaining the girls without any worry for his friends.

Just as you were busy studying the pretty girls he was talking to, you looked back at him, his dark eyes meeting yours and you quickly looked away. He just caught you staring, shit.

You could leave and disappear through the crowd to ignore his watching eyes but the bartender was still trying to make your drink so there was nowhere else to go. From the corner of your eye, you could see him lean down and whisper something to all the girls before he was pointing at you and you curiously look back. Jungkook bit back a smile with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he began walking away from them and heading around the bar.

The bartender came back and you quickly took out your card to hurry up and pay and you tapped your foot anxiously like it would speed up the process. You wanted to leave before Jungkook got to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it or overly confident but in reality maybe Jungkook won’t even come to you with any of his usual shenanigans. You’re outside of work and he could be a completely different person. Maybe at work you’re the only one he can entertain himself with and—

“I was wondering if I was gonna get to see you too,” Jungkook’s voice boomed over the loud music and you jumped in surprise as the bartender gave you your card back and receipt. You looked back at him, “What?”

Jungkook smiled sweetly at you as you finally left the bar and he went with you, “I saw Sungha earlier so I was wondering if you would be around here too.”

“Were you? You seemed kinda preoccupied with something else,” you blurred out before you could stop yourself, releasing a sigh when you saw him following you.

Not different from work at all.

“Oh? So you were watching, for a second I thought I was getting ahead of myself, usually you don’t pay any attention to me,” Jungkook said teasingly and you found yourself rolling your eyes like you normally would.

“Poor you,” you said as you looked around for Jimin and Sungha but stopped. Did you really want to bring him to them? Sungha would understand, sure she thinks it’s cute that Jungkook seems to be into you but Jimin would read too into it. He’s always looking for some sort of gossip and you bringing around Jungkook would definitely raise questions after scolding you for not paying attention to any guys.

“Why’d we stop? You want to dance?” Jungkook asked, looking as everyone seemed to dance or grind on each other. You were practically on the dance floor and he was intrigued. His hand touched your lower back as if to guide you but you whipped around to face him, so close that his breath hitched, feeling like he was just caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Your friends are probably wondering where you went,” you said, trying to hint that he should probably go already but he just smiled down at you with his bunny teeth on display.

“I told them I was gonna be with my favorite person in the world,” Jungkook said and you rolled your eyes with a huff in annoyance.

“Don’t you get tired of always joking around?” You asked suddenly, making his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you always joke like that at work but you don’t have to act like this if we see each other in public. We’re not friends, I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t acknowledge each other,” you gave him a shrug of his shoulders looking up at him.

He slowly blinked in thought, like he still didn’t understand what you meant and that made you smile. You brought a hand up to his shoulder, fixing his silver necklace as you said, “I’ll see you at work?”

“Huh?” Jungkook asked as he brought a hand up to touch yours but you moved it away. You waved, beginning to walk away, “Bye, Jungkook.”

“Bye?”

MONDAY

Taehyung stared at Jungkook unimpressed. He was finally at work again and he was filling in his dear friend on the events of the weekend. He’s just told Taehyung about how he saw you looking at him and he went to hang out with you only for you to just tell him bye. Once again, you didn’t even try.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Taehyung said as he reclined back on his spinning chair, “Y/n doesn’t like players.”

“But I wasn’t even doing any—“

“What were those girls trying to talk to you about?” Taehyung asked with a raised brow as Jungkook tried to think for a second.

Well, the girls came up to him just after he had gotten drinks for him, Jin and Yoongi and they just started randomly talking to him. They asked if he worked out a lot and it was definitely flirty but what did Jungkook do back? Okay.. he did flirt back but not because he was feeling one of the girls. That’s just how he is, he was just flirting to flirt and nothing more. How was he supposed to know you were watching?

Is this why you thought he was a player?

Oh my god, did you think he was a slut?

“Alright, so what should I do for Y/n to take me seriously?” Jungkook watched Taehyung stand up as he began to turn off his sound system and clean up his work area. Taehyung sighed in thought as he grabbed his backpack out of the closet and packed up his belongings, “Do you actually like Y/n? Because if you’re doing this because you’re bored it’s just going to ruin it for everyone at work.”

Jungkook looked taken back by the question and he had to think about this for a second. What exactly did Taehyung mean?

Yeah, he likes you. Well at first he just thought you were really hot and he still does but that’s not it. He likes that he can’t read you. At first he thought you were this cute chick he was going to work with who seemed to dress brightly sometimes and smiled sweetly when you wanted to. He thought you would have a cute personality.

Then he saw that tattoo tucked behind your ear. It was a straight line of hearts in red ink and it was cute but he did see you a bit differently after that. Especially when you came in wearing a dress one day and he found another tattoo on your back between your shoulder blades that he’s sure went all the way down your spine. He couldn’t tell what that one was but that made him more curious about you. The night of the party he found a new one. Tucked underneath the small strap of your top was a tattoo on your collarbone. It seems like maybe a quote or song lyric but it looked so good on you and he just got more and more curious.

Do you have more tattoos? What about more piercings? Your ears seem to have a good handful of piercing too and your nose is pierced too but was that all? Maybe he couldn’t see where else you might have a piercing and jeez that just drives him absolutely insane.

Your music taste makes him curious too. He realized you’re very territorial over your Lana Del Rey vinyls and some other artists too but he wants to know your favorite songs and how many concerts you’ve gone to. He wants to know if you like any of the same artists and if so should he make you a mixtape of all his favorite songs?

“I like Y/n,” Jungkook finally admitted and this time around he looked serious about it. Even Taehyung seemed to pause and stare at his friend waiting for him to crack a smile but he didn't and with a deep breath he decided to offer up an idea.

“Maybe you can show Y/n you’re serious, only be about her,” Taehyung said swinging his bag on and heading toward the door, “That means stop flirting with other girls, You probably proved to Y/n that you’re a flirt the other night so you’ll need to stop that if you want her to take you seriously. I’m not saying it’ll help but it might.”

Jungkook nodded his head in acknowledgment and Taehyung had absolutely no doubt in his mind that his friend was taking mental notes. He left his lofted sound booth and Jungkook followed him down the staircase to the main floor. The way the store was set up, it looked like a modernized warehouse.

Up on the loft was where Namjoon’s office was and where Taehyung broadcasted music in store and on the local radio. The loft overlooked the main floor where you and the others usually worked.

Jungkook was in charge of comics and manga, you were in charge of vinyls, Sungha was in charge of movies, Hoseok’s area was CDs and cassettes. You all had a specific station that made the store run smoothly and switch on and off of who did register, tonight it was your turn and you had to close with Jungkook all by yourself.

“Alright, I’m off,” Taehyung said as he got behind the counter and clocked out, “I’ll be back Sunday and Namjoon is back on Monday, Sungha and Hobi will do morning shifts but you two have to close so please, and I’m literally begging, Y/n don’t kill Jungkook. At least not till we’re back, I don’t think I can train another person after Jungkook.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes though he blushed at the reminder of when his friend trained him. He accidentally logged a bunch of things wrong during their weekly inventory and it took days to fix. You actually smiled, also remembering it, it annoyed the hell out of you back then but you realized it wasn’t entirely his fault that he didn’t know how to do it. It was just funny for Taehyung to bring it up again. Jungkook watched you smile and it made him smile too as he leaned against the counter just the way you did.

“Bye guys,” Taehyung waved goodbye as he prepared himself for a week-long trip in Daegu visiting his family and friends back home. Namjoon went on some business owner retreat where they attended boring seminars and connected with other businesses to trade and learn how to better their business not just for themselves but for the neighborhood.

“Bye,” Jungkook waved cheerily as he moved to the side to let you check some customers out.

Around this time of night there weren’t that many people coming in but there were a few. The store was open early in the morning and closed late at night every day. Namjoon’s reasoning for this? There’s a couple coffee shops around here and usually people like to come in and browse their music to pass time, you’ll especially see couples and teens in here. At night there’s bars and restaurants a few streets down and usually people come in looking to rent movies so they’re open till 11:00pm every night. Jungkook had about three more hours with you.

“So, how’d you wake up yesterday? Were you hungover at all?” Jungkook asked as the customers left and there was a small gap in time where you were the only two people in the store. You had already walked away from the counter, most likely to recover the floor such as fix displays or put things back where they go instead of just shoved wherever a customer decided to leave it. Jungkook began to copy you.

“No,” you said, turning your back to him as you moved a few CDs back where Hoseok usually has them and ignoring how Jungkook was trailing a few feet behind you acting like he was doing the same.

Jungkook nodded, not giving up even if it was clear you didn’t want to talk to him. You were already leaving the CDs to go check on your vinyls and he was going down the next aisle to act like he wasn’t just following you, “Same, I never really get hungover. I can actually hold my liquor pretty well.”

You raised your brows acting interested and just as you were about to round the corner you came face to face a black vinyl with a white sound wave on it. Arctic Monkeys’ AM album. Jungkook was hiding behind it and he peaked around the large square and smiled cheekily, “Can we listen to this?”

You wanted to say no but you didn’t really have a reason to. You just nodded your head and left to Taehyung’s sound booth again with Jungkook hot on your trail. You pointed a finger down, “Stay here in case customers come.”

“Bu—“ his words caught in his throat when you glared at him and he just nodded looking defeated as he watched you head upstairs without him acting like a clingy puppy who can’t leave you alone.

You got on the monitor and tried to search for the album so that you wouldn’t damage any of the actual vinyls. You scrolled through the songs and hit shuffle, queuing up a song that didn’t explain what you wanted to tell Jungkook but it’ll at least ring a bell in his noggin.

Jungkook smiled as you finally came back down to him and he paid close attention, unintentionally singing the exact line you wanted him to hear.

“I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby, snap out of it,” Jungkook sang happily and you smiled in clear amusement as he sang to his heart’s content, completely missing the fact that you’re telling him to snap out of this little crush he seems to have on you.

He’s not your type and you’re sure you’re not his. He’s just bored.

Your smile seemed to drop just as his began to widen as the next song shuffled in began to play. The lyrics were sort of ridiculous but at the same time stupidly romantic and Jungkook immediately went into a dramatically serious mode as he sang.

“Secrets I have held in my heart,” he sang softly and you were surprised to hear what a pretty voice he had as you went back to sit behind the counter just watching him sing, “Are harder to hide than I thought.”

Jungkook wasn’t even paying that much attention as he subconsciously followed you, standing in front of the counter and playing with some of the small knick knacks for sale like miniature record player figurines and cardboard cassette models, “Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be…”

His words cut off when he found you looking at him and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His face flushed red in embarrassment when he realized you were still looking at him and like usual, you didn’t shy away by pulling your gaze from his. The night of the club was the first time you ever looked away first and he didn’t like that, he’s more used to staring into your eyes.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you said casually like it was no big deal and at the sound of the first compliment you’ve ever given him, he accidentally knocked down the pyramid of cassette models making you both scramble to catch them all but they fell anyway. You released a deep breath with a roll of your eyes at the mess he made and Jungkook managed to hit his head on the counter when he tried picking it up, debating if he should just flatten himself against the floor and wait for it to just sink him in until he was nothing but hardwood panels—maybe then he’ll quick being a mess.

“Just a little, I just…” Jungkook shrugged, unsure of how to finish what he was saying, still embarrassed, especially when he looked up and found you smiling a little wider.

Even in his clearly hot mess of a state, he smiles too knowing that he’s made you smile an actual smile.

As if realizing you were being soft on Jungkook, you immediately straightened out your expression out of fear that he would think he’s growing on you.

He is growing on you but that’s not the point.

You don’t want to give him a sliver of hope that something will spark between you two. He’s not your type and you’re not interested in entertaining any guy at the moment. Especially not one like Jungkook who grabs everyone’s attention and can have whoever he wants.

You saw it the other night. Girls throw themselves at him so he’ll surely grow bored of pursuing someone who wants nothing to do with him.

It’s only natural.

TUESDAY

Considering the store opened 10am and closed at 11pm, it meant that there were a lot of work hours during the week to get through. Sungha and Hobi usually clocked in around 9am to get the store ready for open and by about 4pm their shift was up and you and Jungkook would clock in. Usually your schedules were a little more unorganized but since both Namjoon and Taehyung would be gone it meant that the four of you had to cover the rest and since you had morning summer classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had to work night time. Jungkook said he would cover the evening shift too just to be with you.

During the day he’ll just lounge around waiting to come to work and go to the gym and do some workouts or boxing. By the time he came into work he was clean and dressed to impress you but today he didn’t seem to have much luck for it.

He was running late and didn’t have time for a proper shower at home and ended up having to wash up at the gym. He got stuck wearing a black compression shirt that he had extra in his bag and a pair of gray sweats.

“Why do you kinda look like Toji from Jujutsu Kaisen?” Sungha asked as he walked in ready to clock in. He looked down at himself and how ridiculously he looked, “I was running late.”

“Yeah well you look like a slut,” Hoseok joked walking up to him and suddenly smacked Jungkook’s chest, hitting his pecs which were clearly visible through the compression shirt along with his abs. Jungkook immediately brought a hand up to his chest with a groan as the rest of you laughed, “Put your man boobs away.”

“Fuck off, I didn’t have time to run home for clothes, all of you can scatter,” Jungkook said rolling his eyes before looking at you, “Except you, Y/n.”

You scoffed with a smile, “Thanks, now stop harassing Jungkook, his body, his choice and if he wants to look like a slutty gym rat he can!”

Jungkook smiled giddily now, “Yeah! What Y/n said, if I wanna look like a slutty gym rat then I can. Hobi you’re mad I have more muscles than you and Sungha you’re mad I have bigger boobs than you.”

Sungha came tunneling toward Jungkook, “Say that again, brat! I’m your noona, show me some respect.”

“Only person I respect is Y/n,” Jungkook said as she clenched his shirt in her fists, “So stop groping me. Aren’t you two off already?”

“Let’s go Sungha,” Hoseok said with a shake of his head. You waved them goodbye and Jungkook finally got behind you to clock in. You moved to the side to give him space but he only moved closer with a childish smile, “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hello Jungkook,” you said as you left the counter. It was Jungkook’s turn on the register and you were very thankful for that. It was shipment day which meant you had to check in all the boxes delivered first then check in every item in the boxes and get them put away. Considering Jungkook messed it up last time you wanted to do it.

You left to the backroom to begin to bring boxes out and Jungkook followed you, carrying more than one to the counter. Hoseok and Sungha managed to get some done but didn’t get to finish so it was your turn.

You checked in a box of comics and began taking everything out with Jungkook’s help. A small laugh left your lips, “Look, new manga and one is Jujutsu Kaisen. Let’s see if you really do look like Toji.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by you keeping on the running joke, his hand went to his chest still sensitive from Hobi’s slap. He’ll have to get back at him soon.

A group of customers came swarming in and the two of you had to focus on work.

By the time night rolled around and the store was ready to close, you were on your phone a lot. Jungkook tried talking to you but you would barely bat an eye in his direction and it made him a bit sad. A bunch of girls would come in giggling trying to compliment them and for the first time ever, Jungkook didn’t entertain it. He simply helped them with whatever they needed and went back to the register.

At closing time you closed up the register while he recovered the floor and the two of you were able to leave at a timely manner. Jungkook twisted his key around in his hand as he watched you lock the front door, “Where are you headed? I’ll give you a lift.”

“I’ll get the bus,” you said, standing straight and staring down the street. You were always hot and cold with him. One second you would be smiling and joking and the next you would barely acknowledge that he was even there. Yesterday you talked to him but today you didn’t pay any attention to him aside from when the other two were here. Jungkook practically ran after you, “Then I’ll walk with you, it’s late anyway.”

“It’s fine, I always leave by myself,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Here he is not leaving you alone again. Jungkook shook his head no, defying, “I want to walk with you though.”

“I don’t need you to though.”

“But,” Jungkook huffed, “But you barely paid any attention to me an—“

“Are you always this clingy?” You whipped around to ask, once again so close that Jungkook had to take a step back to keep from bumping into you.

“Yes,” Jungkook said casually, “Well no but I want to make sure you get back safely. Plus it looks like it might rain an—“

“Fine! Hurry up and take me home then,” you sighed, giving up. You forgot that the forecast said 80% chance of rain and knowing your luck you’ll be stuck in it before the bus even gets here.

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically, “Alright, come on. I’ll even give you aux.”

He drove a shiny black Mercedes and he was strangely kind enough to open your door for you, making you sigh as you got in his car. You keep telling yourself he’s just being nice or that he’s just trying to get some but every day he shows you a different side of him that you’re not used to.

Yesterday it was that he can sing.

And today it was his music taste, he was surprisingly a pop music guy who liked Charlie Puth.

“I just didn’t expect you to like that kind of music. I expected you to be more into hard rock or something,” You told him. You were already close to your apartment and you acted like you didn’t notice the way he slowed his driving down to stall your departure.

“For the gym, I do, usually Deftones, maybe a little bit of Pierce the Veil but usually I like more upbeat sounds,” Jungkook told you. He was surprisingly a lot calmer when it was just you two and he wasn’t chasing you around the store. His voice was more relaxed and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to get close to you.

You looked ahead as he slowed down a little more, “Right here is fine.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said softly, looking down at his lap in thought. How could he get you to stay a little longer?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jungkook cleared his throat and for a second you debated listening or not. What if he said something ridiculous like he tends to? It would ruin a good night.

“Yeah?”

“How many tattoos do you have? I’ve seen three but something tells me that’s not it,” Jungkook said curiously, “And can I see them?”

“Not all of them,” you told him, “But I have six, just small ones here and there. Not as many as you though.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I still want more.”

“Which ones are your favorite?” You found yourself asking, not leaving yet. Jungkook him in thought as he looked over the ones you could see.

“Not sure, I love them all,” he said before looking back at you, “Which one of mine do you like the most?”

Your brows furrowed in concentration but it was so dark you could barely see. Jungkook pushed on the overhead light and for some reason it made the small confines of his car feel more intimate than when they were off.

“This one,” you pressed your index finger to the flower on his arm, “What is it?”

“My birth flower, I just got it colored,” Jungkook said proudly, “And I drew it myself so I feel really special to know it’s your favorite.”

He looked over at you with a smile and sparkly eyes that had you realizing just how close the two of you had gotten. You were both leaning into each other to look at his tattoos and suddenly this didn’t feel so casual.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, moving back to u buckle your seatbelt, “Alright well I guess it’s time I get out. See you tomorrow.”

“I can pick you up!” Jungkook said as you opened the door, “Before work I mean, we go in at the same time anyway and—“

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said getting out and just before you closed the door, you bid him Goodnight.

He sat in his car waiting for you to make it into your building softly and when you got to the door you turned and waved back at him one more time. He couldn’t help but immediately get on his phone.

jungkook: my fav tattoo of urs is the one on ur back

WEDNESDAY

You must be out of your mind for being here right now. After begging you all day to come out for just one drink, you got tired of telling him no and found yourself sitting at a bar with Jungkook to your left.

“So you’re taking summer classes so you can graduate a little earlier?” Jungkook asked, playing with the wrapper of his straw. You really don’t know how you got here but now you’re being interrogated by Jungkook with 21 questions as he tried to get to know you better.

“That’s the plan but I think I’m still a little behind, what about you? Did you go to school?” You asked him casually.

Jungkook was a few years older than you. He was 25 and you were still 21 so if he went to school he was probably done by now if he got a bachelor’s or even an associate’s degree. Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he said, “I did but I dropped out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do and I didn’t have money to keep going even with financial help.”

You nodded understandingly. The only reason why you were still in school was because you got a little bit of help but you would still be going in debt because of it. You didn’t know what to do either so you chose to major in business because it was a broad enough course of study that you still had a few options. He looked over at you almost embarrassed but you just gave him a reassuring smile, “School’s not for everyone.”

“I wish a lot more people understood that,” Jungkook said, “It still stresses me out knowing majority of my friends graduated. I know Jimin and Hobi still work here and they’re older but at the same time they’re pursuing their interests differently. Hoseok teaches dance classes on the side and Jimin does vocal coaching but I’m just… y’know I’m still trying to figure things out. In the future I would like to own my own fitness center but I’ll probably have to go back to school for that or at least find other ways to be certified.”

“I’m sure Joon would help you figure out how to run a business,” you offered and it did reassure him that you seemed to understand him better. Jungkook has never really talked about this sort of stuff with a girl. Usually it’s all superficial and he’s not sure how this conversation came about but he’s surprisingly really thankful for it. You’re younger than him by four years but you just seem so much more with the way you think.

You don’t have your life figured out either but you seem to have an understanding that not everyone works the same and you don’t make him feel smaller for not having a college degree.

He really is more into you than he first thought. He’ll never deny the fact that the main reason he was after you was because he found you attractive but now that’s it’s just you two this week you’ve had no choice but to talk to him and he’s been really able to get to know you better.

“Y/n, I was thinking—“

“Jungkook?”

His body froze as his words caught and he debated for a second not turning around. The lounge bar was small and quiet so he wanted to come here to talk to you better, he didn’t expect to run into anyone he knew. Especially not Sua who stood behind him with a tight smile and raised brows. He looked to you but you looked to her and he had to turn to see her, “Sua.”

“Nice to see you out and about,” Sua said but he could hear the strain in her voice, “After two weeks of not talking I thought maybe something happened but you seem to be doing just fine.”

You looked away, figuring this has nothing to do with you and instead went on your phone as you listened in on how Jungkook would get himself out of this situation.

Just when he started growing on you, you’re reminded that he’s just a man and he’s still a player, probably trying to get in your pants before he moves on to the next. Why has he been trying so hard for three weeks if he was still going to have girls on the side? You don’t think this is a former girlfriend but she’s definitely someone he used to mess around with. He doesn’t seem like the relationship type anyway.

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook said looking back to you but you weren’t paying attention anymore. This was awkward enough for him but if you started ignoring him again, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it.

Sua has never been more than a fling. They didn’t go on dates or call each other 24/7, they only ever talked when they were looking to get drunk and possibly hook up. Even then it’s been about two weeks since he’s spoken or texted a single word to her so for her to just pop out of nowhere and remind him that he’s… well, a player [?] while you’re sitting next to him and he’s trying to get you to like him, it just doesn’t sit well with him.

Sua looked to you expectantly like you would introduce yourself to her but you’ve got no intention to do that. You don’t know her and you don’t owe her anything. She’s a complete stranger and she’s Jungkook’s problem not yours. You just looked back at her while she waited for you to crack but you weren’t at all intimidated and when she realized that she just rolled her eyes.

“Alright, well call me when you’ve had your fun,” Sua said, stomping away before Jungkook could say another word.

It went quiet between you two and the once light atmosphere became thick and heavy. He looked down, mentally cursing at himself for not being up front right now. He should’ve just told Sua it was done but he thought it was obvious when he stopped responding to her hundred texts. Also, he wasn’t sure how you would feel about him suddenly doing that.

With a deep breath he looked up at you apologetically, “I’m sorry, Y/n, I didn’t kn—“

“It’s late,” you said, checking the time. Half past 1:00am and you were ready to end it, “Let’s call it a night. I can get an Uber so you don’t have to waste your time driving me home.”

“No, Y/n, I want to take you home,” Jungkook said when in reality he wanted to stay and talk more. He might be a bit slow sometimes but right now he knows that whatever opening you were beginning to make for him immediately shut when Sua came.

In the end you let him drive you home since it was so late but you didn’t talk to him much. He tried making small conversation but you were back to barely acknowledging him and it was really getting to him. Is he back to square one?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and lacked any of that weightless aura around it. Usually he was joking or energetic but right now not so much. He was in front of your building again and was watching you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt sadly, “What should I do?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as you say in his car, “What do you mean?”

“What should I do to get you to notice me?”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, the two of you just staring at each other. What did he mean?

Jungkook leaned back against his seat as he waited for you to say something but you just stayed quiet. His eyes went from yours down to your nose ring, then your parted lips. It’s getting harder and harder for him not to look at them, they just looked so inviting even if you didn’t. He just wanted to kiss you so bad, maybe it’ll tell him if this is worth it all.

He’s always been the one to go based on physical touch. When he usually kisses someone, he’s not looking for that electric current to run through his veins but he’s looking for something that might make him want to do it again. Right now, any time he even thought about you it was unlike anything he’s felt in a long time. What if when you two kissed, he really does feel the butterflies in his stomach?

He’s not sure when this seemed to happen but he found himself just a few inches away from you. You looked down at his lips too and he wondered if you were also itching for a kiss. Deciding he wanted to test it out, he leaned the rest of the way and just before your lips touched…

“Doesn’t seem like you need me to notice you,” you said before your lips could touch and he didn’t realize his eyes had fallen shut until you said, “You have a lot of people who already do and I don’t like the idea of fighting for someone’s.”

“Y/n, that’s not what I mean—“

You slammed his car door shut and left like the two of you didn’t almost kiss.

THURSDAY

“You’re so mean.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two in front of you, “How?”

“Well, it sounds like this guy has really been trying and you make him think he has a chance only to shut him down each time,” Jimin said, spinning in his desk chair as the three of you talked in his bedroom.

“That’s not true,” you argued back as you laid in his bed ranting about the past week with Jungkook.

You have to admit, he confuses you.

He’s just so… persistent but at the same time you can’t find it in yourself to consider him genuine. One second you think he is and the next you’re reminded that he’s very well sought after. That girl from last night was proof of it and if they talked just two weeks ago and Jungkook just stopped talking to her… then what happened?

He started working with you all three weeks ago and since the beginning he’s been on your ass, following you around like a puppy and annoying the shit out of you. Sure, she said it had been two weeks since he last spoke to her but that didn’t mean it was because of you. For all you knew, he had other girls satiating his needs and he just wasted his time on you at work.

You were filling in your closest friends on the past week but Jimin never seems to understand where you’re coming from. You’ve known him the longest and he knows all of your past dating experience better than anyone. You used to be the type to fall in love easily only to get your heart broken each time. After a while it got exhausting and you just stopped trying, now you’re closed off and you know it’s a problem but you can’t help it. What if you fall for another loser who just wants to play with your heart and then break it when they get bored?

You sighed, “Sungha, is that true?”

She sunk further into the beanbag she was occupying, like she wanted to hide from the question but when Jimin looked at her too, she spoke, “I mean… Jungkook really does seem like he’s trying. We all know he’s hot and has probably gotten around but he really is putting in the effort. Now I can’t say this is how he is when he’s interested in someone because I don’t know but… he seems to really mean it. Even before this week, he’s always been following you around and if he didn’t see you he would only ever stick to himself in the comics. When you’re there he’s smiling more, I don’t know. I don’t know how genuine he is but don’t act like you can’t see his effort, Y/n, it’s not fair to him.”

You scoffed as you pressed a pillow into your face, “It’s only been a week—“

“And he’s already shown more effort to get to know you in four days than any guy has in the entire relationship,” Jimin said coldly, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I don’t even know this guy aside from what you and Sungha have told me and even I could see that. When we went out drinking last week, I saw you two. He was right there beside you and you just shooed him away.”

“We work together, it’s awkward if I give in,” you said and even you knew it sounded like an excuse.

You were being honest though. What if you did let something happen between you? What if you opened up to him and he took you home one night, you hook up, and the next time at work he just ignores you?

“Stop making excuses and just try it,” Sungha said, “Either that or just stop making him think he has a chance by being hot one second and then cold the other.”

Jungkook sat across from his friends at a small rounded table for a late lunch. He hasn’t talked much today which was already strange considering usually he talks their ear off like it’s nobody’s business. Yoongi and Jin shared a concerned look but Jungkook didn’t even notice. He was too busy playing with his food and that was another concern of theirs.

“Everything alright? You haven’t even touched your food, that’s not normal,” Jin said, reaching out a reassuring hand to Jungkook who just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I know things can’t just change in a week, it’s not enough time, but I’m running out of ideas. I’m trying and trying and every time I think Y/n will open up to me, something happens to change that. I don’t think I’ll ever get her to give me a chance.”

“But things are changing, Kook,” Yoongi said, “You said it yourself, Y/n let you take her home and you’ve been talking a lot more during work.”

“That’s because nobody else is around, not because she wants to, she’s just stuck with me for seven hours every day,” Jungkook said as he pushed his plate aside to rest his head on the table feeling absolutely defeated. Neither Yoongi nor Jin have ever met you but the amount of times Jungkook had ranted about you these past couple weeks really felt like they knew you.

You weren’t the quiet type but you weren’t the loud type either. You were somewhere in the middle and depending on the person or occasion, you’ll only show one side of yourself to them.

You like music a lot and though Jungkook’s section is comics and manga, you seem to have a small interest in those too. He always sees you browsing the books and the other day he found you reading a vintage Ironman comic.

You like to joke around a lot even if you don’t do it with Jungkook.

You seem to walk a fine line between organized and messy. Your vinyls are always clean but according to you, you always lag when it comes to cleaning your apartment.

You’re in school for business but you’re not sure what exactly you want to do with that.

You don’t care that he never finished school and you seemed to reassure him over it.

The point is, Jungkook talks about you all the time and every single time they think more and more of how similar you two are. He says you dress cute sometimes but you’ll act so cold. Other times you’ll dress in more dark colors but be the most bubbliest person that day. Just like Jungkook.

“Don’t give up, Koo,” Jin said finally, “You just need to show her that you’re serious. You need to tell Sua you’re done, don’t just ghost her and expect her to get the hint. Y/n probably still thinks you’re messing around with others. It hasn’t even been a full week yet so at least stick it out until Sunday. If by Sunday she still isn’t giving you a chance then maybe you should think about backing down.”

That night he tried to continue and be as bubbly with you as usual even if you barely gave him a response. He didn’t want to seem affected by the way that last night went when you completely blew off his kiss. It was his fault for the bad timing anyway and when he got home from work he called Sua.

He told her that he’s done and that he’s sorry for not saying it sooner but he really wants to pursue a real relationship with you. It upset her because he never wanted the same with her and it made him feel bad but he wasn’t going to back down from his word. He wanted you, nobody else, and he let every girl in his DMs and messages who he hasn’t answered in days know that too.

And by the time you closed, he slid a CD into your bag with some of his favorite songs hoping you’ll understand him better.

FRIDAY

You haven’t given in to him yet but that wasn’t the point anymore. The point for Jungkook was to show you how serious he was about you, so after work when he dropped you off in the cold rain in front of your house, he waited for you to head in like usual.

Usually, he drove home after making sure you got in safely but tonight he couldn’t seem to do that. He sat in his car trying to look at your door through the pouring rain and he just wanted to see you again. He just had seven hours with you but the store was so busy that he didn’t even have time to talk to you. You locked yourself up in Taehyung’s broadcasting room and only came out when the store was too packed for Jungkook to manage on his own.

He debated texting you and asking you to come down and see if you can talk but the debate didn’t last long before he was throwing the idea out of the window. Before he knew it he was turning his car off and running in the rain to your door, searching your last name on the list of tenants and buzzing the number to find you. It was for number seven and he was beginning to think that had a meaning.

Seven days of just you and him at work.

Seven hours working together.

And now your buzzer was number seven too.

It was becoming his favorite number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me Jungkook,” he checked the time on his phone, heart skipping a beat, 11:57pm, “I know it’s late and you’ll probably say no but can we talk?”

You were genuinely taken back to know he was down there. He could’ve called you on his phone from his car but instead he was using the buzzer to ring your apartment door, to talk to you. You can even hear the rain in the background and you were saying, “Um okay, I’ll let you in, I’m on the third floor, number 77.”

Seven seven.

The second the door made a clicking sound as it unlocked he was swinging it up and running inside. Just as he reached the staircase, he slipped on the bottom steps, tightly holding the railing as he looked at the track of water he left. Once he caught his balance he was running up the stairs again, only slipping a couple more times before he got to your door.

“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked,” you said once you opened the door and let him in. You looked at him from head to toe, “Wait right here, I’ll get you a towel, take your shoes off.”

Jungkook nodded but he couldn’t help but fidget excitedly as he looked around. Your apartment was an extension of you through and through.

Vinyls in the corner by a record player and books.

Plants by the window, some dying and some thriving.

It was organized minus a few things that seemed out of place and it all just looked so homey.

When you came back he was too focused on the pictures hanging on the wall to notice you until you thrusted a pile of clothes in his waiting arms. You pointed down the hall, “Bathroom to your left, here’s some dry clothes, when you’re done bring your wet clothes out and I’ll toss them into the dryer.”

Jungkook nodded his head and followed orders. Your bathroom smelled like lavender and he eyed all your perfumes trying to pinpoint which scent you used the most. You always smelled so good and he can see why. He quickly got changed into an oversized t-shirt with Lana Del Rey’s face on it and a pair of sweats. The shirt seemed to be yours but he’s not sure about the pants. It didn’t matter to him, they smelled like you and like a creep he was taking in a whiff of your laundry detergent immediately remembering the scent. There was always a faint smell of it on you and it was refreshing and warm.

“Are you smelling my shirt?” You asked standing outside the bathroom. He got caught.

“Uh, yeah?” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, wet curls dropping water onto the shoulders of his shirt, “Sorry, that’s weird.”

You just rolled your eyes and asked him to follow you to where the washer and dryer were hidden behind a closet door. He set his clothes in the dryer and you started it up before walking to the kitchen.

“What were you thinking? You know it’s typhoon season and if you wanted to talk so bad why didn’t you just call in your car, or better yet talk at work?” You asked, pouring hot water into a mug and grabbing a tea bag, “Sugar?”

Even as you scolded him, you worried and he felt his cheeks heat up. You sighed, “What did you need to talk about that you felt the need to stand out in the cold rain and wait for me to answer? What if I was showering or already in bed?”

“I guess I would’ve waited,” Jungkook mumbled a thanks when you handed him the cup of tea and he took a seat on your couch. You just sighed and sat next to him, “What did you want to talk about?”

He refused to look at you and when you asked again, he answered, “Nothing in particular, I just wanted to talk.”

You looked away, “We talked at work.”

“Not enough!” Jungkook finally said looking back at you with doe eyes, “We were so busy and you didn’t really talk to me so I just… I don’t know.”

“Jungkook, it’s late,” you said calmly, “What did you really want to talk about?”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I just genuinely want to talk to you? It doesn’t have to be about anything specific, I just wanted to see you. I know it’s late and not even I know why I got out and called for you but I couldn’t stop myself,” Jungkook said honestly, “You probably think I can’t get the hint and you’re right.”

You actually laughed at the last part he said and he went on, “I know you’re not into me but I can’t stop myself from wanting to see you and talk to you every chance I have.”

You slumped back on the couch as Jungkook hissed at the way the tea burned his tongue and you immediately jumped up, “It’s hot, you himbo.”

The name just slipped out and you went to apologize but Jungkook just looked at you with starry eyes, “You’ve never called me by a nickname other than the other day when you called me a slutty gym rat. Please keep them coming.”

You looked at him in disbelief as he looked the complete opposite of offended that it made you laugh and with a defeated sigh you asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Did you listen to the mixtape yet?” Jungkook asked, “Did you even see it?”

You thought about it for a moment and went to look for your bag. You pulled out the CD with the words, ‘THESE REMINDED ME OF YOU’ scribbled in red sharpie on the front. You’ve never been given a mixtape witn songs dedicated to you and when you first saw it you didn’t know what to make of it so you ended up just shoving it back in your back.

“I haven’t had a chance to listen.”

SATURDAY

Like yesterday, Saturday was just as busy. You barely got to talk but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t steal glances at each other and every time he caught you already looking at him, he would smile and wave even if you were on the loft and he was on the floor.

You still haven’t hinted at possibly wanting to go out with him but he also hasn’t asked. He’s waiting till at least Monday to do so. He’s giving it the week before he pushes for it again. He thinks it’s starting to work, you’re beginning to open up to him. Last night you showed him your collarbone more clearly and you asked him more about his tattoos too. You talked about music and movies and by the time you ran out of things to talk about it was past 3:00am and he left.

Even if he couldn’t stand around and talk to you, he would still try to make you laugh. When you would be fixing CDs, he would be in the next aisle hiding behind them until you pulled them out and found him there.

If you were at the register he was right there next to you bumping his shoulder against yours.

At close he texted you right after dropping you off home. It was the most dumbest things too but he was just giddy talking to you.

jungkook: would u rather be rich and depressed or poor and happy

you: rich and depressed obviously

jungkook: same. would u rather get eaten by a shark or by a cheetah

you: don’t want to get eaten by either :/

you: by a shark. I would probs drown before I’m fully eaten

you: also less chance of survival against a shark in water

jungkook: so u could outrun a cheetah?

you: no, I’ve got lung problems. I’m not surging in other way

jungkook: I could probably outrun a cheetah

you: alright, pack it up turbo. no u can’t.

jungkook: yeah… i cant…

you: It’s late ykno

jungkook: yeahhhhh but one more question

you: what

jungkook: have u changed ur mind about me yet?

He immediately regretted asking and not even a minute later he texted back.

jungkook: u dont have to answer that

SUNDAY

You were beginning to think you were as bad as Jungkook. Not meaning Jungkook was a bad person but because you were realizing that you might be leading him on the way he leads other girls on. This past week you’ve really gotten a chance to see how sweet he is and you did like it.

You liked that though he looked big and scary he was actually genuine and kind. He had a good personality and he never seemed to poke fun at anyone. He was clumsy and a bit slow at times but it was cute. He still annoyed you on occasion but it wasn’t as insufferable as before. It was endearing and last night when he asked if you changed your mind about him yet, you were so close to saying yes. You had changed your mind about him but you were still scared to admit that.

What if Jungkook was one of those people who preferred the chase over the conquest? What if once he realized you kind of liked him too… he would lose all interest. People are like that, you used to be like that and look where that got you.

You lost any motivation to get to know someone after all your failed relationships and in the end you only went after guys who didn’t want you because you knew they wouldn’t ask for anything serious. By the time you found out that they liked you, you would cringe and stop talking to them.

What if Jungkook is like that too?

You finally listened to his mixtape and it was very clear he thought long and hard about which songs he would burn onto the CD and that’s what had you antsy. Was he really serious?

You didn’t mean to avoid him today but it just happened and Jungkook noticed it the second he clocked in and you refused to look at him. Throughout the shift he would try and talk to you and something would suddenly come up or you would be in the back room pretending to be busy all so he wouldn’t talk to you. You confused the yell out of him and after three weeks of it and one week of getting to know you, he was fine.

He was done with your avoidance and by closing time he made it very known.

“So what’s up with you ignoring me today?” Jungkook asked as he finished counting the money in the register for close.

You didn’t respond right away as you fixed a stack of cassettes before finally saying, “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff as he took the cash register out so he could put it back in the safe, “You know what I’m talking about. You didn’t talk talk to me at all today.”

“We were working.”

“So? Suddenly that means you can’t even say hi to me when you clock in?” Jungkook asked and you wanted to answer but you didn’t know what to say. Instead you just watched him head to the back room to put the registers in the safe and return with a more sullen expression. You went back to fixing items in the shelves in order to not look at him. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, he did grow on you but that’s the problem.

You got to know him a lot this week but it’s only been seven days. Sure, seven consecutive days where it’s just been you two majority of the time but you still don’t know him all that well. You don’t know what he’s looking to gain with you and you know that’s really just you projecting your own insecurities and fears to think he just wants to use you but you can’t help it. Your brain isn’t wired to always think on the positive side anymore.

Jungkook kept looking over at you but he couldn’t take it anymore. You don’t owe him an explanation for not being attracted to him but he would like to know why you didn’t like him from the get go. It’s like you had made up your mind before even getting to know him and every single time after the first, you were more closed off from before. Of course he always noticed it but it didn’t start to really drive him crazy until these last seven days. You had begun to open up to him, smile at him more, share stories yet at the same time there were still moments where you seemed like you couldn’t stand him.

He was done with you ignoring him and he walked right up to you as you put a CD away in a high shelf, “Y/n, talk to me, stop ignoring me.”

You turned to face him, caught off guard at how close he’s gotten making you unintentionally took a step back but he took one forward not giving you any chance to focus on anything but him. You chuckled nervously, “Why?”

He looked very visibly upset by you but you just couldn’t stop, “Listen, I just don’t know what you want. Don’t get me wrong, I know you're interested in me or at least you act like you are but if you’re just doing this because you’re bored or—“

Your word caught in your throat as Jungkook’s hands cupped your jaw suddenly. He looked down at your lips, unsure why he moved so quickly but he couldn’t help himself. How could you think he’s just doing all this because he’s bored?

Jungkook licked his lips as he stared down at yours, “I’m crazy about you, not bored.”

You didn’t say anything, and when he began to lean down you couldn’t move. The shelf was pressed against your back and his hands were cupping your face that when he finally kissed you, you were stuck. It was short and sweet but you couldn’t kiss back, too caught off guard and it wasn’t in a bad way, you just couldn’t react right away when he pulled back nervously, “Sorry, I—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jungkook waited for you to say something and once again he was met with silence. He was at the point of giving up and left you in between aisles to hide from the embarrassment. Maybe he pushed too far, you rejected him over and over again and he still had the nerve to kiss you. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, returning to the counter so he could start getting his things to leave.

He tried everything he could and he was exhausted.

“Jungkook?”

You came up to him shyly and he was struggling to not look at you. He was a bit nervous to know what you had to say. What was wrong with him? He’s always had a crazy amount of confidence and he’s never struggled this much to get a girl he likes but why can't you just think about him once? He felt ridiculous to be this hung up on someone who doesn’t want him.

When you finally stood in front of him, he couldn’t help but look down at you, a little scared that you would slap him or something. Before he could utter an apology, your hand was around his neck pulling him down into a real kiss.

It took him a second to understand what was going on but once he did, he completely melted into you, holding your chin in his hand to keep your head angled up to kiss better and another hand go down to your waist. You didn’t back away when he deepened the kiss with his tongue against yours. Your fingers played with the end of his hairs trying to reach him better but it was hard. Jungkook knew this too so he held you by the waist, backing you up toward the lower end of the high counter until it touched your back and picked you up with ease to set you down on it.

You moved your legs apart to allow him to step between them and kissed him eagerly. Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back, lips swelling as he kissed you with such fever that the room felt hot even with all the lights off minus a few dim ones. The record store was completely empty and a shelf of comics was in front of the door so it felt like a maze of art hiding you from anyone’s view. That made it all so much more exciting to know it was just you two.

Jungkook pulled back for a second and smiled when you followed after him, not wanting to break away from the kiss much to both of your surprise. He smiled cheekily, beginning to pull down the zipper of his gray sweater, “Sorry, I’m ho—I mean, it’s hot in here.”

He threw the light gray cloth somewhere to the side and immediately pulled you flush against him for another kiss. The two of you made out like that for a while, not even thinking about the fact that you were still at work.

Your hands can’t get enough of him, they run along his exposed arms and over the thin fabric of his white ribbed cotton tank top that showed off all his muscles and tattoos. You had tried so hard not to acknowledge how unbelievably attractive he was since the beginning but it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

Jungkook’s hands tangled in your hair, trailing down the back of your top, middle finger softly caressing the line of your spine at your neck and further down as far as your shirt would let him, kissing you deeply.

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling on the back of his shirt until he got the hint and yanked it off, your eyes immediately traveling down his naked torso. His tattoos went down his side too and didn’t stop until his deep v-line and his stomach was taught with muscles. The compression shirt the other day didn’t do the real thing any justice and that’s that he looked so hot that day you almost folded. Why were you holding yourself back from this again?

Jungkook was unaware of your train of thought, the only thing on his mind was how to get your top off and with your help he was able to raise the shirt off and finally get a better look at you. Just under your bra was another spot of ink in the shape of a flower and vine on your ribcage. He ran his thumb over it softly as he looked up at you, lip rings caught between his teeth and you just smiled, “Birth flower.”

Now he knows why you liked his flower so much and with a breathy smile, he kissed you again, hands caressing the line of your spine once more, imagining what the tattoo on your back was and low fat down it went. He hugged you to him making you scoot to the edge of the counter and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips with ease to pull off your pants. You squealed in surprise when your hips hovered up for a moment as he got them off, never once breaking away from your lips.

Jungkook places a hand on your chest, fingers toying just under your bra, tempted to just push it up and out of his way but he worried he might be moving too fast. You didn’t hesitate in reaching behind your back to uncoil your bra and let it slide off. You never realized how deprived you were of sexual intimacy until you were here and too impatient for Jungkook to move things along. He pulls away from the kiss, running his tongue down your lower lip, trailing it along your jaw, down to your ear, and then to your neck where he sucks a bruise into the skin at the base of your ear, hands finding your breasts and feeling the weight of them.

You tugged at his jeans and Jungkook attempted to pull them down without breaking away from kissing you and to help him out, you unzipped his jeans and helped get them down his hips where he kicked them off without a care and chased after your mouth.

Now that Jungkook understood that you were just as eager as he was, he couldn’t hold himself back. He pulled you to the very edge of the counter till it seemed like you could fall off, and kissed down between your boobs to your stomach, a small ball of metal pressing against his lips when he reached your belly button. Your hand made its way into his hair, moving out of the way as he looked up to you, moving lower and lower between your legs, “Found another.”

You were reminded once more of your past conversation about tattoos and body piercings. Jungkook couldn’t but smirk at the way your gaze darkened when he punched the thin fabric of your underwear between his fingers and began to slide them off. Your lips parted in surprise, hand slipping out of his hair only for him to nuzzle his head close again until you brushed it out of his face. Jungkook came face to face with your wet heat, a smile on his face as he said, “Did I make you this wet? We haven’t even done anything.”

It was still all strange to you. Out of all the girls, he put himself through your hot and cold attitude because he wanted you. He chose you and now here you were letting him make you feel good yet being just as obnoxious as usual.

You rolled your eyes, already feeling that tinge of annoyance you used to always have with him, “Shut up.” You didn’t mean it in your usual pissed off way, but more so you didn’t want to prove him right. You could’ve been doing this all along.

Your words end in a moan when his tongue first teases a lick across your clit, his eyes were on your face as he watched you closely, repeating the motion again and again as your breasts rose and fell. Jungkook wraps his hands around your thighs, shifting them onto his shoulders and tightening his grip on them when you try to move away from the intensity of it. Your hand accidentally pulled on his hair making his whole head move with the motion yet his mouth never once moved away. His tongue lapped hungrily at your slit as he stimulated your labia with the sides. His nose bumped against your clit every now and then and when you yanked on his hair it made his eyes roll just slightly.

Jungkook has come to the conclusion that he could eat you out all night and he plans on doing that soon but right now his back is starting to hurt from being hunched over your pussy and he couldn’t take it. He pulled away with a small line of slick connecting his lips to your heart but neither of you seemed to care when his mouth was on yours.

You could feel Jungkook’s covered bulge hit against your sensitive wet cunt and he felt hard. His dick made a pretty outline in his Calvin Klein’s and you stuck a hand between your hot, naked bodies and tried sliding his boxers down.

A soft groan left Jungkook’s left at the first feel of your hand touching his hard cock. He still had a hand between your legs, middle finger teasing your entrance that when your palm rubbed against the tip of his member, he pressed it deeper until he felt the warmth of your pussy on the fingertip.

You released a soft moan as he pulled his middle finger out before thrusting it back in teasingly, he looked sleepy but you knew it was all lust in his gaze. You were no longer kissing and his eyes were on yours, his lips were parted with shaky breath when you fisted his length and began to stroke him up and down. His one finger became too when your thumb rubbed across his leaking slit before spreading the precum all of his head and gliding your hands back down to his base, repeating the motion over and over again.

Jungkook hissed in pleasure when you massaged his bells before jerking him off a bit more roughly than before, his two fingers sped up their thrusts while letting his palm rub against your clit, “We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You didn’t say anything as you let his hips buck into your closed fist fucking his cock into your hand, making your legs shake with how good his fingers felt, “I’m close.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed pressing his forehead against yours, “I need to feel you, baby, please can I fuck you yet?”

You looked away from his eyes first and without a word guided his raw dick to your entrance and moaned when he pushed in slowly. You’re both very aware that you weren’t using a condom but in your haste to have him inside you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“F-Fuck” You both moan when he pressed his pelvis against your spread thighs, his cock all the way in letting you adjust to the sudden stretch before moving. You swung your legs around his waist, pulling him a little closer when his hand snuck behind your waist and pulled you into him. With your arms around his neck, clinging to him, he was able to bring his other hand down to your hips and hold you in place as he began to fuck you slowly. Jungkook watches your face contort with the pleasure of having him inside you and it makes his chest swell with warmth. You looked so fucking pretty releasing quiet moans with each thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, “You’re so damn pretty, Y/n.”

You tug at his hair fucking your hips back onto his thick length, “I know.”

Your response caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but smile when you did. He leaned forward to kiss you but just before his lips could meet yours, you pulled on his hair a little harder now, hand sliding around his neck and you felt the way his cock seemed to throb inside you when he groaned in pleasure. Your hand tightened at just the right pressure points on his neck slightly, dragging him into a hungry kiss that nearly had him falling onto the counter over you.

“You’re prettier,” you finally said between kisses and you felt his fingers pinch your sides, cock angled up enough to hit that soft spot that always made your legs tremble. You felt your orgasm close and you just wanted him to get rougher, “But I need you to fuck me harder.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook kissed you passionately as he did as told, so unbelievably turned on by that he could only thrust his big cock into your tight little pussy like his life depended on it. He was so close but you wanted him to fuck you harder and who was he to deny the girl he’s been obsessing over the pleasure of dreaming all over his cock?

A loud moan left your lips, completely surprising you by the volume of it but your butt still stunted from the way Jungkook just spanked you, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rutting his cock just that further in, “I’m so close, Y/n:”

Your nails drag across the skin on his back, kissing along his pretty neck almost falling back again when his back arched down to fuck you, you moaned out his name, “Jungkook, oh my god, I can’t.”

Jungkook held you tighter, raising his hand and bringing it down on your ass cheek once more, “Cum for me, baby, please, fuck.”

You nodded your head, eyes squeezed shut as you finally released all the tension in your body and came around his thick length.

Jungkook released a loud groan as your pussy tightened around him, using all his strength to keep from cumming inside you. You cling to him cutely as you came down from your high and he had to pull out. He hid his face in your neck as he let go, cumming untouched all over your stomach and his but you only hummed in pleasure at the sudden feeling.

It took you both a minute to relax, cool down and think about what you just did.

You shyly looked at each other. Jungkook bit his bottom lip nervously, “Thank god there’s no cameras.”

You actually laughed, wincing a little as he helped you off the counter. He smiled, straightening out his clothes as he got dressed, “What do you say about coming back to my place? I—Is that okay, I mean? Or was this, um… um…”

“Sure, but I’m going to need something more comfortable to wear,” you said softly and he looked over at you as you held up your ruined top. He didn’t realize he ripped it when he pulled it off. His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he hurried to get his sweater and hand it to you, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

You zipped up his light gray jacket that fit you oversized like it did on him and covered up to your mid thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at how cute you looked, putting your pants back on.

“So we both have tomorrow off,” you said trying to clean up the mess the two of you left like you didn’t just have the best sex you’ve had in a long time — and at work no less.

Jungkook nodded. Taehyung returned today so he’ll be opening tomorrow with Hoseok and Namjoon will close with Sungha when he got back. The two of you had the day off as a thanks for covering and on Tuesday Hobi and Sungha will have off.

“There’s this new place that opened up and I really want to try, tomorrows our first day off in a while so—“

“Yes,” Jungkook cut you off before you could even ask him your question, “Obviously. Are you asking me to go with you? Well, even if you’re not, I’m going. I’m not letting you leave my bed if you don’t take me. Like a date, right? Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Well I was trying to,” you laughed as the two of you finally gathered all your things before locking up the store hoping they wouldn’t notice anything off tomorrow morning.

“Fuck, okay, ask again, please? I need to hear you say it,” Jungkook begged and he looked like a huge bunny with doe eyes.

“Whatever, do you wanna go with—“

“Yes!”

“Jungkook! Are you going to let me finish or what?” You asked with a cute roll of your eyes, following him to his car.

“Okay! Okay,” Jungkook laughed, “Try it one more time.”

You laughed and indulged him, “Will you go o—“

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yessssssss!”

“You’re so annoying but it’s cute.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook clutched a hand to his heart as the one held onto yours, walking backwards to the car so he wouldn’t miss a second of you, “You’ve never called me cute before.”

OC MIXTAPE TO JK

FIRST NIGHT DRABBLE

DATE DRABBLE

A LITTLE THING CALLED JEALOUSY DRABBLE

JUNGKOOK’S SICK DAY DRABBLE

::.

y’all am I late for the swarm of seven fics? ik most were more smut and I loved every single one but I’m not cut out for so many smut scenes 😭 I’m a one and done but hope everyone loves this version of seven’s Jungkook, the himbo coworker ⭐️

also I included a little video of the songs jk would have on mixtape lol just for funnies. if you want to see more that he would dedicate to y/n, comment in my inbox with #ask SEVEN! JK or if you have any questions

oc is the world’s strongest soldier

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 2 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #Jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook request #jungkook oneshot #jungkook one shot #seven days to love

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year ago

Text

NIGHT CRAWLERS - JJK

title credit: night crawlers - kids in glass houses

pairing: drugrunner!jungkook x sugarbaby!reader, college au

synopsis:

jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

warnings: jungkook and o/c are polar opposites, but y’know what they say, opposites attract and all that jazz, jk is a college student but also a drug runner, mentions of gang dynamics and hierarchy, oc is a sugar baby, mentions of consensual but uncomfortable sexual encounters as a result of this (proceed with caution), drugs, violence, blood, motorbikes, hurt/comfort, all the good stuff, smut – fingering, tittie sucking (wow pretend to be shocked!), unprotected sex, jk has the hugest cawk in the whole entire world, jk is a lil aggressive but in a sexy way, he accidentally says something mean during sex (not sexy mean, actually mean (he makes up for it tho!)), jk on top, oc on top, mentions of his pubes (yummy), tummy pressing, kissy kissy kissy koo, creampie, post-coitus nap, they’re literally in love idk what to tell you, ambiguous ending!!

wordcount: 26K

note from holly: originally published to wattpad in 2021 and also briefly uploaded to tumblr, too. It’s just hit 100k reads over on wattpad so I thought I’d put it here too!! There are two additional chapters on wattpad, connecting the story another fic of mine and also showing us jk + oc four years on from the events of NC!! If you’re interested, you can find it here (x).

i write in british english!! both in spelling and dialect!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

IT'S BEEN SAID that with great notoriety, comes great responsibility to uphold the expectations of those who presume the worst about you.

Okay, so that's a lie. No one's ever said that - but Jeon Jungkook has never been one for sticking to traditions, and so he likes to live his life as if that's his motto.

That, and 'rather be dead than cool.'

Which is ironic, because it's only the heteropatriarchal bores - the ones from upper-class families, who want a white picket fence and 2.4 kids - that actually think he's lame.

And he doesn't particularly give a shit about their opinions.

Everyone else thinks he's actually pretty fuckin' cool.

Black nails, black cargo pants, black hair that waves loosely over his sharp features. An air of command as he walks, a swagger in his step that lingers in stranger's heads like the silage of his aftershave.

Yeah, Jungkook is cool, and he fucking knows it.

A rucksack is perpetually slung over his shoulder, the top concaved slightly to indicate there's very little in there, not much more than a tatty notepad and a few loose pens - or so you assume.

You've never actually spoken to him. Why would you?

Daddy's little princess, glossy lips, manicured nails. The kind of girl who gives him a second look, but only to sneer. He doesn't think of you often, but when he does, it's never nice.

Jungkook doesn't have time for you, and you don't have time for him. Your paths rarely cross.

At least they barely crossed. Past tense.

Now that you're taking a few of the same classes as him, he sees you a lot more than he likes. Hair always up in that stupid fucking ponytail that he can't see past, perpetually on your phone. Attention seeking little bitch.

He'd ranted a little to Jimin about it, told him that you really must have been a dumb bitch to swap from an economics major to a film studies major with only a single semester left.

Jimin hadn't said much in return. Unlike Jungkook and his insatiable hate-boner for you, Jimin really doesn't give a shit about you. Barely knows your name, let alone the fact that you studied economics before switching over. Was kind of curious as to how Jungkook knew that. Not enough to bother with asking, though.

Jungkook thinks it's normal to scope out the competition. A little Facebook look-up, Naver search, Instagram scroll. Surely it's rational to do that? Check out their LinkedIn, cross-reference their Twitter history to see what they've said about the course.

It absolutely isn't normal, but then again, nor is Jungkook.

He's exactly as he appears to be; the rogue look isn't a front.

But beneath the exterior, there are a few more traditions he's subverting.

He's the first in his family to attend college, and he needs to ace this class to keep his scholarship.

It's all just projection, the way he despises you.

You've got everything he wants. A well-to-do family, money, prosperity, financial security. He's never known that. And while he shits on you for having parents that have provided for you, all he wants in life is to be able to do the same for his own children one day.

"I've matched you all with students of a similar grade level, so no one is at an unfair advantage," your professor calls out, tearing Jungkook from his thoughts. "Not a single one of you will experience the city in the same way. From shortcuts to your favourite coffee spots, your lives here will have been different to those of your peers."

Jungkook smirks, leaning back on his chair. He knows this city better than most; its dark corners, where the monsters lurk... how to hide and where to run.

Again, the rogue look isn't a front.

But he also knows how to work a camera better than anyone in that room, how to time his shots, how to frame them, too. Top of the class, though modestly quiet about it (he's got a reputation to uphold, after all), he's curious to see who would be considered an even match for him.

"That being said, your experiences are also shared with those around you. For this assignment, with your partner, I want you to create a unique piece of film that captures what the city means to you. Think outside the box. Create something that excites, that invokes. You've got eight weeks. The partner list is on the noticeboard at the back of the hall. Dismissed."

Footsteps echo around the lecture hall as everyone trundles out of the room. You wait back, having already seen the list before you entered the class.

Instead, you pull out a pen - one of the ones that Jungkook hates, with a ridiculous fluffy pink pom-pom on top - and jot down your number. You aren't aware of his insatiable hatred, and either way, you don't really care.

He ignores you as you approach his desk, eyes only drifting upwards when you slide the torn-out piece of paper towards him.

"Mhmm?"

He's rude, you notice. Brows raised, expression flat, he's fed up with you before you've even said a word. Kinda hot, admittedly, but rude.

"We're partners," you say with an ambivalent shrug. Jungkook's jaw seems to tense, head tilting as he breathes out a short smirk.

Partners?

"You haven't even gone out to check the board."

"So what?" You scoff a little. He doesn't like your tone. The feeling is mutual. "I just made it up?"

It's his turn to shrug, now. "Dunno. You tell me."

His hair waves around his features, and you wonder how long it takes him to make it look so natural. The girls around campus swoon over his hair, like he's some kind of God. Other boys try to emulate it, but they can never quite pull it off like he does.

Another thing that all the girls giggle about are his doe-like eyes, but they're hard, now. Narrow, almost. Less of a doe, more like a dragon. Maybe if you get his nostrils flaring, he'll breathe fire, too.

Yeah, he's hot, you want to laugh to yourself, but not that hot.

"I checked before I came in. Didn't take a genius to work out what it was for."

He takes a moment before he nods. "Right. Well, you should probably know that I work better alone. Just let me handle the assignment, a'right? You can put your name on it, whatever, I don't care. Just let me handle it."

A control freak, you note. Nice.

You didn't transfer majors in your last semester, and face all the hardships that came with such a decision, just to sit back and let someone else do the hard work for you.

"With all due respect, it's a joint assignment. I'm not putting my name on work I didn't actually do."

A stickler for the rules, he assesses. Fucking fastastic.

"Look," he sighs, adjusting his body so that he's practically leaning halfway over his desk. As much as it sounds like he doesn't want to be a part of this conversation, his body language is oddly engaged. "I need to ace this class. You've been here, what? All of three minutes? Film what you wanna film, send it over to me for editing."

"I'm very much capable of editing-"

"And if you could do me a favour and keep the nail salon footage to a minimum, that would be much appreciated. Everyone's seen that shit. It's not interesting. Gangnam underground shopping centre B-roll, too."

It's a thinly veiled insult. Assumptions he's making about you based on the clothes you wear and the company you keep. He doesn't explicitly say it, but you know what he means: you're not interesting.

Jungkook doesn't mean to be an asshole. Not really. He's just got a lot riding on this course, and doesn't want to risk it all for the sake of keeping the peace with someone he doesn't particularly like in the first place.

"Like our Professor said, we all experience the city differently," you plaster a smile on your face, the plastic kind that Jungkook hates. "You might just be surprised at what I can offer."

Private tennis clubs and shopping sprees worth more than a second-hand car? Yeah, no. He'll pass, thanks.

"Whatever," he reclines back, giving your number the once over before tearing a strip of empty paper from the bottom of the note. His hand moves quickly, scrawling his own number onto it. He doesn't hand it to you, but instead tosses it down onto the desk as he stands. "As I said, I work best alone. Don't bombard me with messages about the project. I'll have it under control."

He vacates his desk with an air of arrogance that you don't think he's yet earnt. Sure, he's hot, and from what you've seen of his work, he's pretty talented, too. But no one likes working with assholes, and the whole point of being at college was to make yourself a desirable candidate for jobs.

Or at least that's what your parents had always said.

When they were still talking to you, that was.

Before they decided that you're a disgrace to the family name, all for the simple desire of not wanting to spend your life slaving over finances and spreadsheets.

Like inheritance and a slightly crooked nose (straightened out for your high school graduation gift), econ majors ran in your family - and just like you'd cut off your parents' dream of watching you become an economist, they'd cut you off. Full stop.

So as far as you were concerned, Jungkook could take his arrogant whining about your financial situation, and the hobbies you might have enjoyed as a result of your upbringing, and shove it up his ass.

You really wish he would. Shove it up his ass, that is. Might relieve him of the pent up tension he seems to have going on.

Swiping up his number, you tuck it into your back pocket, ruing the day you'll actually have to text it.

It comes as a surprise to both of you when, a week later, Jungkook is the first to type a message into your fledgeling chat window.

I'm filming tonight. Could use a Grip, if you're free. Dongdaemun Design Plaza, 7pm.

You wonder how much pride he must have had to swallow in order to send you that.

On occasion, during the past week, you've caught him looking at you in that slightly menacing way he always likes to do.

Part of you thinks he's unaware that he's doing it, just zoning out in your direction, but then you see him shake sense into himself - quite literally, a bunny with an itch behind its ear kind of shake - before he averts his gaze.

He does a similar shake of his head when your response pings through to his phone.

Can't do Tuesdays or Thursdays. Sorry. Maybe another time.

He doesn't reply.

REJECTION HAS NEVER been something Jungkook has taken well. It's why he works so hard, fearful of being told that he isn't good enough.

He'd only sent that text because he genuinely did need a Grip.

Well, no.

That's not quite right.

He needed a muse; a subject of his shots, a pair of eyes to catch the confetti of night market lights in. Someone's hand to film as they exchanged money with a hotteok stand server, another human to get lost and found all within the same shot.

But that felt awkward to ask, especially after his insistence that he could do it all alone, so he'd settled for pretending he'd needed a grip. Just someone to hold his gear while he took tricky shots. That's all.

Given your rejection, he was pleased with his choice.

"Familiar," Yoongi nods over lunch the next day, following Jungkook's gaze. "Yeah, I've definitely seen her around. Dunno where, though."

"Campus, maybe?" Jimin rolls his eyes, confused at the fixation Jungkook seems to have on you.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Nah... She looks like-" he glances over to Jungkook conscious of Jimin's listening ears.

"Like?"

"Just like a girl I see occasionally," Yoongi pauses again, making sure Jungkook's focus on him. "At work."

Jimin laughs. "So yeah, on campus. You work in the campus cafe, Yoongs."

It was the only legitimate place that would hire him. Dumb choices as a kid - and a questionable nickname that's now etched into his knuckles - prevents most places from seeing him as a viable candidate.

Yoongi laughs along with Jimin, but Jungkook knows Yoongi isn't talking about the once a week shift that he picked up as a form of extra credit.

Jungkook knows, because on paper, he doesn't have a job either.

On paper, he manages to survive on his scholarship bursary, The Holangi Honour, awarded to gifted students from underprivileged backgrounds.

On paper, Jungkook is the Korean dream of hard work and perseverance.

His reality isn't so pristine, but it never has been. He comes from a long line of high school dropouts with dubious morals and criminally reckless career choices. It was naive to have thought attending university would help him escape it.

Scholarship funds dried up pretty quickly, rent and t-money cards eating away at it, until Jungkook had no choice but to revisit old haunts.

Yoongi had told Jungkook that he didn't need to worry, that he could help him out if he needed money, but Jungkook was no leech, much to his older friend's despair. He didn't want the kid getting into the same trouble that he was in.

One meeting with Yoongi's old school friend, Hoseok and Jungkook was in the rat race again, delivering people's come ups for when the sun went down.

He'd always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, out of luck. Drugs, now, too.

Jungkook had managed a good year and a half on the straight and narrow. For that, he was proud. And sad.

But he's also determined.

Top grades mean top jobs in the future, which means never having to traipse around Daerim at ass o'clock in the morning.

He hates this part of town, but it's where business is currently booming.

Hobi texts him a drop-off list each morning, ensuring his nights are almost exclusively spent in Daerim.

This is how Jungkook sees the city: grotty back allies, groups of men huddled around a pack of cards and dice on the floor, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, phlegm spat onto the foor. He sees the women of the night in the early hours of the morning, and the sadness in the smiles they give to the men who approach them on street corners.

There's only one club of any worthwhile note in the area, and between jobs, Jungkook likes to sit up on the fire exit that rests above the back entrance.

It's where Hobi works, assisting some other reprobate that Jungkook doesn't care to learn the name of. Nasty piece of work, or so he's heard. The son of some powerful motherfucker that Jungkook knows to stay away from. He isn't interested in joining any stupid fucking gang. He just wants to get his money, get through university, and forget about this place.

That's the big dream at least.

His current wish, which feels much more immediate, is to outrun the fucker who has been on his tail for the past half a mile. Jungkook's pretty fast on his feet, and he gives a mean left-hook, but the guy chasing him has a pocket knife and that doesn't really feel like a fair fight.

It's his fault, and he knows it.

As per usual, Hobi had texted Jungkook his drop off list. Six of them, all in Daerim. He had no business being down by Jungang Market, especially not on a Thursday evening.

He couldn't even explain why he was; he was just curious about what life could be like if he ended up flunking out of college. He wanted to see where the monsters liked to lurk, or if they hid in the shadows like boogeymen.

But reprobate recognises reprobate, and drug runner recognises drug runner.

So now Jungkook really is running, out of territory that he shouldn't have infringed upon.

He's not out of breath yet, but he is conscious that his heartbeat feels like it's in his throat. A few streets over, his motorbike is parked behind an industrial-sized trash can, and he prays that no thieving cunt has tried to make a get away with it. They wouldn't have managed it - it's his prized possession and he never leaves it unprotected.

When he spots it a few minutes later, he laughs, relieved. "You beauty," he praises the engine, pulling his key from the pocket of his leather jacket.

The fucker chasing him is nowhere to be seen, probably nursing a stitch or panting down a different back alley. Jungkook doesn't want to risk it, eyes darting all over the place as he unbuckles the chain on his bike wheel with muscle memory alone. The metal clangs through the iron bars that protect the banjihas down the alley from break-ins. He always feels a little bit of guilt for chaining his bike up to the only source of natural light for the half-basement dwellings, but it's quarter past two in the morning. Not exactly sunshine hours.

And yet his eye is drawn to the light pouring down from a street lamp at the entrance of the narrow lane.

Usually, you ignore the noises you hear on your walk home - but, as strange as it sounded for Jungkook's voice to issue a compliment, you're almost positive that it is his voice.

Dark hair, dark eyes, he doesn't recognise you at first. You're wearing black, and your hair is down, but your lips still have that stupid fucking pink lipstick on, the one he'd seen you blot away onto a tissue in the middle of a lecture a few days prior.

His eyes linger, the lights flickering in his glossy dark irises as if there are fireworks inside that pretty little skull of his. For a moment, he thinks you must have been filming for the assignment.

The lack of a camera proves otherwise.

"Get on the bike," he yells over to you, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket, pulling it down. Cognitive thoughts aren't something Jungkook's really working with, the adrenaline speaking for him.

That, and the fact that he's acutely aware of what men like the motherfucker who was chasing him down did to girls like you. Might not like you, but he doesn't want that on his conscience.

Plus, he needs your signature on the coursework documents, too. You're no use to him if you end up chopped into little squares and scattered in the river.

"Damnit, just get on the fucking bike!" He continues, noticing that you haven't moved a muscle. His jacket is off now, held out for you to take. He's impatient, eyes darting down the alleyway, as if he's scared of the rain that's pouring down around you. "Look, I ain't asking again. Just get on the bike, or I'll fuckin' leave you here. Some nasty fuckers about tonight."

And while you may not trust Jungkook, you don't trust the alleyways of downtown Seoul even more. You've seen the horrors. You know the dangers. Your mother didn’t raise a fool.

She also didn't raise you to bow to the commands of assholes like him either.

You ignore his jacket, hiking up your skirt, revealing far more of your thigh than most get to see. He doesn't make a comment, but you know he sees a flash of your underwear as you do so.

For once, sex seems to be the last thing on his mind.

Rain pools in the gutter by the drainpipes, trickling down, collecting in the ducts. A puddle sits on top, a tell-tale sign that the street is going to flood soon, but Jungkook also doesn't give a shit about that. Not right now - but he does make a mental note to check that the drains are unblocked by his place when he gets home.

He's a fellow basement dweller, dependent on the cheap rent. A banjiha boy with big dreams of getting out.

You hoist your leg over, ignoring the droplets of water on the leather seat, as your hand wraps around his waist. The front of his white shirt is damp from the rain, elevating the scent of his laundry detergent. You don't hate it. Quite like it, actually.

"Wet conditions," he rasps, voice still hurrying out of his mouth. "So take the jacket. If I slide, the tarmac will rip your skin off." He turns, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. "I'm not your father. Dress yourself."

"I'd be a bit concerned if my father was trying to dress me at the ripe old age of 21," you bite back, as if the fabric of his jacket doesn't feel like it's melting into your skin on account of how bloody warm he is. You push your arms through the material, shaking it ever so slightly as Jungkook begins to rev the engine.

"Thanks would have sufficed," he bites back a scoff, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Try not to fall off, a'right?" He gruffs.

Some would have considered his concern endearing. You know it's just because he doesn't want to spend his evening scraping your flesh off the sidewalk. Not because he gives a single flying fuck about you.

"Hold on."

He doesn't wait for longer than a second, just enough time for you to wrap your arms around his waist, before he pulls down on the accelerator. His exhaust chortles, spitting out petrol as he goes, water from the ground splashing up against your bare leg. You can feel goosebumps forming, and yet your arms are completely warm.

Of course they are. Jungkook's chest is a fucking furnace, heart pumping blood through him faster than the speed of light. Forward, forward, forward, he pushes his bike on, away from the downtown area he found you in, and away from the demons who were hunting him.

The vibration of the bike is a welcome disguise. Beneath the motor's veil, you're shaking. Partly terrified, partly the victim of an adrenaline surge.

Hardly a surprise. You've never been on a bike like his before.

There weren't many men on motorbikes around your neighbourhood as a child, only Old Jinyeon, who had a Harley that he only rode on the weekends, or when his wife was away at that spa retreat that everyone knew was really code for 'rehab'. Prescription medication was her poison, mostly. There were whispers that alcohol was a bit of a problem, too.

It was a shame, really. She was a nice lady - she'd just married into a lifestyle that didn't suit hers.

Old Jinyeon's father had also been called Old Jinyeon, and his father before that, regardless of their age. The name wasn't the only thing inherited, but a fortune too. Old by name, old by money.

He'd met his wife at a gentleman's bar; gambled all of his chips away just so that he could keep talking to her as she worked.

But the good is rarely easy, and the easy never good. Women like her weren't supposed to be with men like him.

And girls like you aren't supposed to be on the back of boys like Jungkook's motorcycle.

But here you are, hurtling through the city at a speed you're pretty sure isn't legal, clinging onto him for dear life. Your eyes are shut, streaming with tears from the wind, mascara blotting onto his back.

"Left turn," he calls over his shoulder to brace you. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, stomach losing all stability as he rounds the corner. You've never suffered from travel sickness before, but now seems like the prime time to develop it.

The lights of the city all bleed into one kaleidoscope of colour. Your sense of direction has been rendered useless, only opening your eyes once every few seconds to make sure that this is real. And every single time, you're surprised to find that it is.

You expect it to be like a dream where you fall, only to wake up at the last second - but you've never had one of those dreams. You've only seen them in movies. You're not even sure they actually exist in real life. Perhaps this would be the closest you'd get to one. A main character moment - though this felt more like a crime-thriller than the rom-com you would have liked.

The feeling of damp wind in your hair like this is new, and exciting, but all you can think about is the fact that you're pretty sure one of your fake lashes just flew off. You pull your hand back to stroke at your lashes, just to check, but it's caught by Jungkook grabbing for it.

"I told you to hold on," he shouts, though he doesn't need to. The vibrations of his vibrato can be felt through his back. "So hold the fuck on, a'right?! I don't say shit like that for fun."

Jesus, you think. Who pissed in his cornflakes?

But he's right. You do need to hold on. He proves it by not warning you the next time he turns, the bike leaning so close to the tarmac that you're convinced you can feel rubber burn. He eases as soon as he hears you shriek, the grip you have on his chest so hard he swears you might puncture his skin. Reaching back, he cups your knee with his palm, checking for any sign of blood or broken skin. Negative. And yet his hand lingers before he retracts it. He's just making sure. Double-checking. Over-indulging.

"The fuck was that, asshole?" You all but scream.

"I told you to hold on, didn't I?!"

He did. And if you weren't doing so now, tighter than before, you'd have hit him so hard in the balls that he'd have no choice but to adopt in later life.

"You could have fucking killed me!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," he sneers, catching his tongue before he says something he'll grow to regret.

Jungkook would never have killed you. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, and how to ride his bike almost as well as he knows how to get himself off. It's second nature. Innate. A gift.

But before you can argue back, he draws to a stop, his exhaust rattling, the motor purring. As much as he'd like to tell you to get the fuck off his bike, he can feel you trembling now. A part of him - a very slim, deeply hidden part - feels guilty for being so hard on you.

He's grown up with bikes. Trusts them. Lives, breathes gasoline.

He doesn't imagine you know how to change a bicycle tyre, let alone anything with a motor.

The hand that had checked you for damage earlier returns, his fingertips warm against your goosebumps skin. He strokes lightly, once, twice, quickly. "You're fine," he tells you, and you want to believe him.

"Never said I wasn't."

He snorts a small laugh, then taps your knee, encouraging you off of the bike. His hand remains close as you do so, conscious of the fact that you'll most likely be unsteady on your feet - feet that he now notices are clad in the strappiest pair of heels he's ever seen in his life. Perhaps he doesn't need to worry about your stability at all. If you can walk in those, then you can surely handle a pair of wobbly knees.

Without much thought, you take his offer of assistance, his jacket dwarfing you as you stand, hand clasped in his.

"Where are we?"

The alleyway you're down is unlike the previous one he stole* you from (*rescued). It's cobbled and damp, yes, but the doors down here lead to dwellings, garages too. Not an industrial-sized trash cart in sight. And it doesn't smell like fermented piss either, which is a surprise. You thought that was just the standard for side-streets around these parts.

"Doesn't matter," Jungkook shrugs ambivalently as he unhooks his leg over the bike.

He wants to ask why you're wearing such stupid shoes.

That's a lie.

He doesn't think they're stupid.

He actually quite likes them. You've nice ankles. They look good.

What he really wants to ask is why you're wearing them on a school night. The pair of you might be in college, but it wasn't student night at the clubs, and he hadn't picked you up from a particularly nice part of town.

There are only three types of women he ever sees in Daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get Percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.

So it then further begs the question: why the fuck were you there?

Sliding off his jacket, you offer him a small smile. It's the least you can do, you suppose.

It's funny, because you only ever see three kinds of men in Daerim: drunks, gamblers, and dealers. Jungkook isn't any of those. You might not know that much about him, but you know he's a scholarship kid, and that he won the winter film festival on campus for his documentary on back-alley gambling.

"We're not too far from campus," he eventually states. Few blocks over. He assumes you live on campus. Got the money for it.

"Cool," you nod, sure that you'll be able to find your bearings from here. You don't live on campus. Not anymore. No money for it. "Thanks for the lift, I guess."

The atmosphere is awkward, dewy mist in the air dampening both of you. He nods back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He knows he should invite you in, offer you somewhere to wait while you call a cab or something, but he's embarrassed. Of himself. His living situation. The fact that he doubts you've ever even been in a basement that isn't a wine cellar.

"Look I-"

"So-"

Jungkooks nose scrunches, cringing at the awkwardness. You glance down, self-conscious.

"What were you doing over in Daerim?" he asks rather out of the blue. He doesn't even process that he's asked until it's too late.

You clear your throat a little. "Just had some errands to run."

"At two in the morning?"

You nod.

"Right," he doesn't believe you, but can't think of a better explanation.

"Well, what were you doing there?" You ask, albeit a little more confrontational than intended. You were on the defensive.

His mouth is flat as he speaks, a narrowness to his eyes that makes your lips purse to suppress a smirk. "Running errands."

So you're both dirty little liars. Who'd've thought?

"Fairplay," you say with a smile. "Look, I still appreciate the ride. I'd have been fine," you add."But yeah, appreciate it nonetheless."

"Was nothing. I was headed in this direction anyway. If you take a left at the end of the street and follow the road down, there's usually a bunch of taxis waiting for the university cleaners to finish their night shifts. I'm sure you'll be able to get one."

"Take a left," you hum. "Cool. Will do." Bracing yourself to leave, Jungkook wonders if he should offer you a lift to your place too. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Class? That thing we attend during daylight hours?"

"Oh right. Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Bizarrely enough, if this is how awkward Jungkook is when he's being nice, you think you prefer him being an asshole. At least he has a little spark in him then.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook feels overloaded with fucking sparks, like someone's holding an axe grinder against the metal of his earrings, deafening him. The reality of his evening is kicking in, and the knowledge that he came a few metres from having a hole in his abdomen becomes overwhelming. He doesn't let it show, though.

"Thanks, again."

You make a promise to punch yourself in the face if you say thank you one more fucking time.

"It's fine, again," he smiles, with a small laugh, before focusing those eyes of his on the floor.

And so you leave, walking straight past the taxi rank and taking a shortcut to your apartment, which is a lot closer than you had realised.

Seven steps below street level, you jog down to your front door, petting the neighbourhood calico stray on your way down. The door closes with a slam, but you don't give a shit because the people in the apartment above never seem to give a shit when they stumble home at four in the morning.

Before he sleeps that evening, Jungkook wonders how much of the skyline you get to indulge in. Your dad works in the accounting side of one of the largest law firms in the city, he knows that much from his research. Knows that your immediate family has more money than probably all of his relatives combined. Alive and dead.

He just isn't aware that you're not seeing a single dime of it. Not since you dropped out of the economics and business side of school to focus on the creative arts. All that money your parents had 'wasted' on your education? Well, they weren't wasting any more.

Because you're a commodity, to be bought and sold, apparently. Not their daughter, who they should have just wanted to be happy.

So now you spend your Tuesday and Thursday evenings down in Daerim.

Because you are a commodity; and if anyone's gonna be selling you, then it may as well be your fucking self.

A stack of yellow 50,000 won bills sit on your desk. Twelve of them. 600,000 won. Not bad for a week's work. 6 hours.

Might have been cut off from your Dad's money, but your replacement 'daddy' wasn't a bad substitute.

The bluntness of such a statement usually makes you laugh, but not today.

If Jungkook knows the Daerim area like you think he does, then he'll be able to work it out soon enough. A bitterness fills your chest, like coffee dripping through a filter, forgotten about and left to go cold. You've been so good at playing pretend.

Secrets are so much easier to keep when they're not shared.

Perhaps that should be your project piece.

Secrets of Seoul: The Seedy Underbelly of The City.

After all, that was your unique view of the city; the side you saw that you were pretty sure no-one else did.

At least, no one else except Jungkook. Go figure.

"SEVEN WEEKS LEFT!" Your professor reminds the class as they dismiss you from your lecture. There's a little chatter, partners sharing ideas and friends discussing what to have for lunch - and then there's you and Jungkook.

He waits by the end of his row for you to walk to meet him, an inconspicuous look on his face.

The girl who he's watching neatly put a fluffy pen into her handbag looks a lot like you, but a hell of a lot different from the girl he gave a lift to last night.

Who the fuck are you?

Jungkook has always liked a little mystery. Seen the romanticism in the unknown. Still doesn't like you - but you've gotten him curious.

"You haven't sent anything over yet," he notes, keeping a slight distance from you as you walk together up the stairs.

"You told me not to bombard you," you remind him.

"Sending me video files once in a blue moon is fine."

"Once in a blue moon. Gotcha."

It's Friday, so he knows it's not one of your pre-determined days of having prior engagements.

It's only now that he realises that must have been why you were in Daerim last night; that your 'errands' are actually scheduled into your routine. It doesn't bode well for his 'not a hooker, an addict or a sugar-baby' theory.

"I was thinking of heading over to Dongdaemun this evening, seeing as you weren't free on Tuesday," he starts a little awkwardly, but the more he speaks, the easier it becomes. Being nice, that is. "I could still use a hand, if you're free? If you're serious about helping out, I mean. It would be good to make a start on things."

Relief washes over you. You've been fearing a conversation about the night before, but Jungkook doesn't want to talk about it just as much as you don't.

You meet him at seven o'clock that evening at Dongdaemun Design Plaza. You've always loved the green roof, how organic the landscaping looks above such a futuristic building. He listens as you explain this, eyes wide and in awe of the sloping pathways and curved walls, showing him your favourite of all the trees in the park.

Jungkook looks at you for a second, observes your hands, how they delicately move a few leaves to frame the shot you're taking. You've a Midas touch, and Jungkook wonders if your fingers would turn him to gold, too.

It's a silly, fleeting thought, but it doesn't stop him from focusing the camera on you as you roam Dongdaemun night market later that evening, lights cascading over you like glitter.

He thinks you're pretty in this light. Pretty when it's just him and you. No distractions.

Except there's hustle and bustle everywhere, a vendor chasing a thief, groups of high schoolers laughing on their way home from Hagwons, food sizzling, vapours making his stomach rumble. Perhaps you're the distraction, instead.

The pair of you spend the next week traipsing the city together.

Somehow, you only ever come together when the sun goes down, but it's fitting. You're a pair of nightcrawlers, swarming through the city when traffic sounds like a melody and destinations are unknown.

He learns that you drink your coffee black, no sugar, lukewarm. You learn that he'd rather rub coffee granules into his eyes than drink it.

And despite your preference for no sugar, he always tosses a little white sachet towards you whenever you order a coffee. He finds it funny. Insists that you have to be a sugar baby. It's the only way he can explain that night he saw you Daerim.

He's just joking. And you pretend not to, but you find it hysterical.

Mainly because he doesn't realise how bang on the money he is.

But also because you can't help but laugh whenever he does.

There's a comfort that grows between the pair of you, a familiarity. A casual ease that doesn't feel dangerous, not even when he's pulsing through the city on his bike, you holding onto him, his leather jacket wrapped around your body. You begin to like the way that the wind feels in your hair, and you stop wearing fake lashes. Jungkook doesn't tell you, but he likes you better with a few freckles showing, dewy highlighter and a little mascara being the only makeup you wear for the midnight city roams.

It's only because you can't be wasting resources reserved for clients on a boy from your film studies class. Times are tough, money is tight. No point in pouring funds into a boy you won't make revenue from. It's a bad business decision.

A few months ago, you did your makeup multiple times a day just for fun. Now you have to ration it. Life... life isn't what it used to be.

But Jungkook is ignorant to that, and you quite like it. Escaping from your reality. Becoming the version of yourself that he thinks you are.

He isn't sure which version of you he wants to spend time with the most; the too-good for him daddy's girl who dresses in Celine and comes with a pout, the enigma who lurks in the shadows that he thought he had a monopoly over, or the master director who seems to rival his talents for capturing moments of life in 4K.

As he watches your brows furrow while you turn your phone upside down, trying to understand a map, he decides that he doesn't care which version he gets.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

There's an impulsion to his desires and subsequent actions that he takes to obtain them. He's driven by gratification, and little else.

On the days he wants to feel wanted, he'll go to a bar. He never whispers false promises or pretends like he's after anything more than what can be achieved in a single night. The girls he goes for tend to see that as a challenge. They think they can convince him otherwise. It's not his fault when they can't. It's not his fault that they end up falling for him regardless. It's not his fault that he never has any intention of loving them back.

He tells them this. They ignore him. It isn't his fault.

On the days he wants to feel accomplished, he'll stay on campus until the cleaners usher him out of the room so that they can prepare it for the next day. Their insistence is lost on him - no amount of Cif can polish the dirt out of the walls. Once a shithole, always a shithole. He'll offer his apologies for getting in their way, and they'll coo over him like he's their own grandson. It's all very sweet.

They tell him not to overwork himself. He lies and says he won't.

On the days he wants to eat more than a single cup of ramyeon - which is most days, given his absolutely mammoth appetite - he'll send Hobi a text and request more drop-offs for that evening. Yoongi will give Jungkook a subtle look whenever a message from Hobi pings through, knowing it mustn't be good news. It never is.

Jungkook tells Yoongi to mind his business - but with a grin and a glint in his eye that eases his friends worry ever so slightly.

Disapproval never stops Jungkook from doing what he wants, regardless.

Not from his friends, from the cleaning ajummas, and especially not from you.

So he ignores the look in your eye, as he encourages you to follow him through a gap in the chainlink fence, which surrounds a disused water tower on the outskirts of the city.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

And right now, he wants to get a shot of the midnight city from his favourite vantage point.

"You said you've taken thousands of shots here," You hiss as a twig snaps beneath your foot. He smirks as you utter out a curse. "Surely you can just reuse one of those?!"

He guides you round, ignoring the ground level rubble, until you get to a ladder that definitely isn't safe for use. It's rusting by the bolts, and has a few vines trailing up it, undisturbed for months. Remnants of paint are flaking from the structure, collecting like ashes on the ground below.

"I have," he shrugs, unhooking your camera bag from your shoulder, popping it into his rucksack for safe keeping. He crouches, putting his palms upwards to offer you a leg up. "You haven't, though. You see the city differently to me, remember?"

He's taunting you. Reusing the phrase from your Professor that you had quoted to him on the first day of the project. Asshole.

Asshole with a smirk that suggests he's only teasing. Suggests that he's fond. Words that suggest he remembers the things you say to him. Memorises them, even.

Curious.

"Can't we just pretend like we see it the same way?"

"No can do, sugar."

"Oh my god, stop calling me that."

You're thankful for the midnight sky and the way it disguises your blush.

As if throwing packets of the white stuff at your face in coffee shops isn't enough, he's taken to calling you 'sugar', too.

"Give me a reason not to," he says as he tilts his head, encouraging you to accept his leg up. You check your feet for mud, then put your trust in his grip.

"I've already told you, I was just running errands," you defend yourself for the thousandth time. A short yelp escapes your lips as he boosts you up, your hands gripping onto the flaking bars beside the ladder.

He doesn't believe you for a second. He also doesn't believe that you're actually a sugar baby. It's just fun to fuck with you a little.

Once you're up, he waits for you to safely sit on the ledge, and then he makes the climb too. He's up a lot quicker than you, coming to sit beside you with his legs dangling over the ledge of the railings.

"Tell me it isn't worth it," Jungkook says a little airily, enamoured with the view.

And he's right. It is worth it.

A maze of city lights twinkle like the Carina nebula, interstellar, yet entirely of this earth. Bright whites, reds and greens speckle the horizon, and for a moment, it's easy to forget that you're looking at Seoul. There's a magic that can only be appreciated from a distance, far away from the scent of alleyways and the void nothingness of grey brick buildings. Skyscrapers tower above the skyline, but still look small from where you and Jungkook sit, silently, in awe.

"Look over there," he points across the vast expanse. You follow his trajectory, but you have no idea if you're picking out the right spot. "Daerim. Can always tell. Know the street layout too well."

"You're gonna get me thinking you're a sugar baby," you nudge your shoulder into his, and he laughs.

Reaching into his rucksack, you expect him to pull out your camera. Instead, his hand comes back into vision holding a pair of chopsticks and a tub of instant ramyeon. Uncooked.

He pulls the seal back, stabs at it with the chopsticks and offers you the small chunk he's broken off.

"It's good," he promises.

You know what dried ramyeon tastes like. You know it's good. You just can't understand what the fuck is wrong with him.

"Are you broken?"

He grins as he tosses the chunk of dried noodles into his own mouth. "Absolutely - but ramyeon is ramyeon."

You tell him he's weird, and he continues to smile, not resisting as you take the tub from him and break off a chunk with your fingers.

It's one of his favourite snacks. He's impatient and impulsive at the best of times. Waiting for it to cook? Too much effort. Cooking it at the convenience store and carrying it up the tower with him? Disaster waiting to happen. It's just easier this way.

And so the pair of you sit, not really saying much, watching the city roll by. Every now and again, he offers you a chunk from his chopsticks.

By the end of the night, neither of you have gotten any footage of the city.

And neither of you really care.

AS YOU SPRINT home after yet another spree around the city with Jungkook, running late for your Thursday evening appointment, you curse your inability to send his calls to voicemail.

You should really be working more. You need to be working more - but for the past four weeks now, you've answered every single one of his calls.

His messages? Yeah, you ignore those. He's learnt this, though. He messages you regardless, because... well, because he wants to, quite frankly. He doesn't give a shit if you respond.

He knows you read them.

He knows you saw that picture he sent of a flyer detailing a live art event last week. He knows that you noticed the veins on his arms.

You don't know that he'd spent a couple of minutes tensing his arm before he took the picture. Deliberately.

It's been said before that Jungkook wants what he wants - and what he wants more than anything, frustratingly, is your attention.

The way you study his arms the next time you see him proves that he's gotten it.

If anything, the delayed gratification makes it so much more worthwhile.

You have been thinking about him.

So as far as Jungkook is concerned, you can ignore his messages all you like, because you still always answer his calls with an airy 'hi,' as if talking to him takes your breath away.

The only time you don't answer is between the hours of eleven and two on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

Chances are, if he just so happens to be in the area - which he always is - he'll catch you down on the wrong side of the tracks at just gone quarter past two.

He still calls you 'sugar', teasing you for the reputation of the area. You just roll your eyes and grin, then banter with him about how even if you were a sugar baby, he wouldn't be able to afford your prices.

He argues that he'd pay in ways that didn't include monetary value.

You don't ask him to expand.

But as you wipe your watery lash line in the bathroom of a shitty rental apartment in Daerim, you think about what he could have meant. If he actually meant it.

The TV blares from the living room, faint vapours of a mango e-cigarette wafting through the gap beneath the door. You've always thought mango smells like cat piss. Rancid.

Whatever Jungkook could have meant didn't matter. His flirty tone and angel eyes didn't pay the bills. The cash tossed down on the bathroom counter did - or more specifically, the widower, who occasionally wanted company from a pretty young girl, did.

A hundred thousand won for an hour, three hundred thousand total. It takes you just a week, two appointments, to make up the month's rent - but you still need to eat, to study, survive.

And so you return, every week.

It's not his actual apartment. He lives over in Gangnam, close to his kids' schools. More money than sense. He doesn't tell you much about his personal life. You think a lot of his small claims are lies, anyway - but you smile and flutter your lashes as if he's reciting bible verses.

Some nights are better than others. Sometimes, he genuinely makes you laugh. Occasionally, he'll ask you what you want to do. Takes you to museums. Fancy dinners. Theatre shows.

But he has a nasty streak, and in those three hours, you're his. He owns you. There's no sex, that's not the arrangement, but his hands have been known to roam, and the disparity of equality within your working relationship becomes apparent. You brush it off, tell yourself that it's natural for a man engaging with you in a romantic capacity to forget the rules. You tell yourself that it's okay.

The churning in your stomach and dis-ease of such a situation tells you that no, it isn't okay. But if you laugh at his painfully unfunny jokes loud enough, you're able to drown out the noise in your head.

The worst nights are the ones where he pays you extra.

There's no discussion anymore. The stack of notes is just thicker than usual upon arrival, and you know that at some point during the night, you'll have to sit in silence and watch as he sinks his hand down into his pants.

It's easy to forget the way it looks. Your eyes glaze over, and the discomfort, the slight disgust, indicated in your features gets him hard. He thinks it's taboo. Thinks you enjoy it too. That your panties look a lot like his hand by the time he's finished.

The snort-like grunts are what you find hard to forget. The wail of a moan that comes when he does. You hear that shit in your nightmares.

But it earns you an extra two hundred thousand, so you endure it because you don't have much of an option at this point.

Come 2 AM, cash stuffed down your bra, you don't have to think about it anymore. The fresh air of the city, a little smoggy and polluted, hits you like a freight train. You thank it.

When Jungkook enters Daerim that evening, he expects to find you. He normally does. You never look particularly happy - in fact, he often tells you that you've got a face like a slapped arse - but it's more so today.

He whistles from across the street, clad in black, a thick hoodie keeping him warm beneath his leather jacket. "Oi, Sugar," he calls, that boyish grin on his lips. Teeth so pretty you wonder how much novocaine it would take for you to be numb to the way it makes your stomach flip.

Eyes dancing up and down your body, he likes what you're wearing. Black tights, black dress that cuts off at your mid-thigh, a sweetheart neckline and chiffon sleeves that puff around your slender arms. He decides your boots are far more sensible than the heels you're usually in.

"That'll be twenty thousand, Jeon," you call back, arms folded over your chest as you change direction to walk towards him.

"Per hour?"

"Per every time you call me that stupid fucking name."

"What would you rather?" he goads, leaning against a window ledge on the back of a restaurant building. There's nothing down the alleyway, just trashbags and the distinct scent of fermenting piss. "Shugs? SB? Baby?"

You smirk, walking to the wall opposite him, mirroring his position, hands resting beside you on the ledge. There's a safe distance between the pair of you. A look, but don't touch type of vibe - but this time, unlike earlier on in your evening, you actually enjoy it.

"You really gotta make your mind up," your eyes roll, lips rising into a crescent. "One minute I'm a trust-fund princess with Daddy's money on tap, the next I'm a sugar baby with a different type of Daddy altogether."

Jungkook shrugs. "Just don't see why you waste your evenings roaming fucking Daerim of all places."

"Best dandanmian in the city," you say, referencing the abundance of traditional Chinese restaurants in the area. "Can't get the authentic stuff in Itaewon."

"Can't get hookers in Itaewon like you can in Daerim, either," he taunts you.

He doesn't really think you're a hooker, but he likes the way you grin whenever your eyes roll.

"Ah, so that's why you're here."

He holds his hands up to playfully admit defeat. "Guilty."

You laugh, knowing that there's no way in hell Jungkook will ever have to resort to hookers. Not when he looks like that. All doe-eyed and charming, floppy hair just begging for a pair of hands to run through it.

The pair of you let the moment simmer, droplets of water dripping from the drainpipe and into the sewer. He's lit by the neon light of a restaurant sign, red and yellow painting him like an impressionist masterpiece.

"You look cold," he acknowledges, but you shake your head and insist you're fine. Your hair is a little damp from the small shower you'd been caught in a little while previously, mascara smudged around your eyes. You looked like that before the rain, mind you. He shakes his jacket off and tosses it across to you, snorting quietly as it hits your face and crumples over your feet. "C'mon. I'm now about to ride home. I'll give you a lift."

He asks for your address, and you tell him that you'll just get a taxi from his place like you normally do. There's no need for him to go out of his way.

"The princess doesn't want the pauper to see her castle, huh?" he teases, always talking in bloody riddles.

"See!" you protest. "Always changing your mind! A minute ago I was a sugar baby, and now I'm a rich bitch again. Which is it, Jeon?"

"I dunno," he reaches behind himself, adjusting your legs and pulling you a little closer into his back, tapping your side to make sure you've got the jacket on. "You tell me, sugar."

He doesn't see you roll your eyes, but he knows you do it. You always do. Even when your pretty pink nails are clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pretend like you don't enjoy his company.

You've gotten good at playing pretend.

Jungkook only jokes about you being a sugar baby.

He doesn't fathom that you actually are one.

His engine begins to purr, and Jungkook kicks up the stand, setting off into the night.

The way you hold onto his waist is different tonight.

Physically, it's the same.

But it feels different.

And it is, because you're not just holding onto him; you're hugging him. Comfort in an old routine. You adjust your arms, keeping tight against his back, and he pretends like he doesn't notice the shift in dynamic.

He pretends as if he didn't notice your sad eyes earlier, too, and as if he can't feel the stutter in your chest as if you're trying not to cry.

Jungkook isn't a knight on a white horse, and nor does he want to be - but he doesn't mind being your rogue bandit who steals you away from the things that make you sad.

He's just an arc in your fairytale, not your happy ending.

But you've always been a sucker for a bit of a plot twist.

When you arrive at his, he wants to ask you to stay. He doesn't want an orange taxi cab to appear at the end of his lane and act like your actual knight in shining armour. He doesn't want you to ride into the sunrise with anyone but him.

And as luck would have it, your phone shares his desires.

Well, no. It doesn't. It's a mobile phone. It doesn't have cognitive thoughts - but it is out of charge.

"Different charging ports," he grits his teeth as he holds up his Samsung after you ask if he's got an iPhone charger. "I'm pretty sure I have an apple cable lying about though. You can come in for a second, get a little bit of charge just so that you're not stranded in a taxi without a way to contact anyone."

You nod appreciatively. "You sure?"

He doesn't answer, instead holding his door open and ushering you inside.

Jungkook cares in strange ways. He's practical, forward-thinking, trying to find solutions to problems that you'd normally shrug your shoulders at.

He's never told anyone that he loves them before, but he did once swap the hinges on his ex-girlfriend's bathroom door to the other side, so that it would stop hitting the sink basin every time she opened it. He shows his affections in meaningful ways, often without being asked or expecting anything in return.

Neither of you realise it yet, but this is one of those occasions.

It's not until you're perched on the worktop bench in his kitchen that he realises he let you in without hesitation. No longer embarrassed of where he lived, he kind of likes having you here.

You look out of place, silver pendant round your neck, expensive, and hair professionally coloured, nails done, toes, too. Not that he can see them. He just remembers a conversation you had once over chicken and a beer about the fact your toes always matched your nails.

Small details like that are what he thinks about when he's alone; like the way you blink a little faster when you're confused, and how you sprinkle Cheeto dust back into the bag off of your fingers instead of licking them like he does. He thinks about the way you laugh in his company, and how he's never heard you laugh like that with anyone else. And he tries to stop, but dammit, he thinks about how sexed up you look on those Daerim nights.

You're dressing like that for someone else, he knows that much.

But he gets to indulge in it too, when your body is pressed against his back as he takes you home.

He's stopped asking what you do in Daerim. He doesn't want to know.

For a few minutes a night, when he's alone, he likes to pretend what it would be like if he was the one you were dressed like that for. Only ever a minute or so. Gets him too hot. Finishes him off too quickly. Absolute sin.

"Kook?"

He doesn't even realise he's halted his movements until your voice breaks him from his thoughts. His jeans tonight are tight, and do a pretty good job of hiding the swelling between his legs. Fucking uncomfortable, though.

"Sorry," he doesn't turn to face you. "Was just trying to remember where I last had the cable."

"I was just saying that it's fine. It's really not that far. Don't wanna be a bother."

"Why'd you say shit like that?" he turns to face you, face twisted a little. He's annoyed.

"Like what?"

"Call yourself a bother. You do it a lot."

"I don't."

"You do," he insists, and you can't work out why he's so annoyed by it. You want to apologise all over again. "You just-" he takes a moment to find the right words. "I dunno who's conditioned you into thinking everything you do is bothersome, but it really isn't. If I didn't wanna help, then I wouldn't. It's not a bother. You're not a bother."

And you don't know why, but for some reason, you choke up a little. It's not like he said anything particularly groundbreaking, it's just for the last few months, your entire existence has felt like a drain on those around you.

The money you can live without, but you miss family dinners on Sundays, and face timing your little sister, more than you can even begin to explain.

And while no, you didn't want your parents' money, you didn't want to keep seeing a perverted old man just to be able to afford to eat, either. The flat rate was 500,000 now. Every single time. Without fail. You hadn't put the price up. He was just always paying extra. Always touching his prick. Always jerking himself off over your repulsion.

Earlier that evening, he had queried how much it would cost him to finish on your chest. You told him a million. He asked if you accepted bank transfers. You told him no. He offered 1.2 mil.

Part of you considered it. It's a lot of money. Not something to be taken lightly.

But when you ran into Jungkook, just like you knew you would, you were adamant you had made the right choice. He had scanned your body, getting a read on your mood, assessing what you needed, what you wanted, and then had offered up his jacket. All doe-eyed and sparkling. You finally got what all the girls swooned over, 'cause you were doing it too.

"Hey," he says softly, noticing the way your eyes are reddening. "Hey, hey, no. Don't cry, sugar."

You laugh through the first couple of tears. Stupid fucking nickname.

"I meant it," you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands. He's standing closer now, hesitant to touch, hands hovering around you. "20 thousand won, Jeon. Pay up."

His fingers tenderly wrap around your wrists, keeping them from rubbing at your face again. He's smiling, eyes ever encompassing, cheeks so appled that you bet you could get drunk off the cider he'd produce.

"Can we do it on an I.O.U. basis?" he speaks quietly, playfully. "I get paid on Monday."

It's a lie. He gets his commission cut straight from his sales figures. There's 2 million won in his rucksack. He only gets ten percent. 200K. His job's not nearly half as lucrative as yours, but it's still nothing to be laughed at. He's making bank.

"Nuh-uh," you sniff again, letting out a little laugh. He laughs too. "Told you that you couldn't afford me."

And then it's silent. You can hear your heartbeat. He moves a little closer.

"Told you I'd just pay in other ways."

His voice is hoarse, as if he's scared.

As if he fears the consequences of his claim.

Your eyes drop to his lips. They're trembling slightly. Preparing.

The grip he has on your wrists loosens. He's giving you freedom. He's giving you the chance to back out, to run away.

But you don't.

"Pay up, then," you all-but whisper, lips closing on his.

Jungkook doesn't stall, no, but it takes him a second to respond. To realise.

And once he does, his brows furrow into the kiss, demanding that you know just how much he wants this. Wants you. Has done for weeks, now.

He pulls your body into his, needing you close. Your body curves, his arm hooked behind your back to keep you balanced.

A surge of intensity washes over you like crimson paint. It'll stain you, and everyone will know: That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.

He kisses, and he kisses, and he kisses, and he doesn't stop, as if he knows his first with you will also be his last - and when he finally does stop, forehead on yours, the pair of you are breathing so heavily into each other's mouths that it's as if you're sharing oxygen. Keeping each other alive. Both capable of first-degree murder.

And so neither of you pull away. There's no way he's doing time for you. There's no way you're doing time for him. Looks like you'll just have to kiss forever. Shame. Such a hardship. However will you cope?

"I-" he begins, before cutting himself off, easing his grip on your waist. One of his hands lingers, while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes wincing. "Shit-" he finally lets you go. "I don't know what that was. I'm sorry."

You want to tell him that it's okay, that you didn't mind, that he could do it again - but it's clear he doesn't agree.

"Just adrenaline," you offer, sinking down to perch on the worktop bench. Your defeated posture is hidden well like this. "Don't sweat it."

He stays silent as he turns around to resume his rummaging, looking for a charger that will fit your phone. He knows there's one in there, he just can't for the life of him remember when he last had it.

Everything feels a little awkward. You half think that you should fill the void with something, that you should break the ice, but what was the point? You'll be out of his hair soon.

And you are, home twenty minutes later. You had only charged your phone for ten minutes at his, just enough to get you home. It's about to die again. Not before Jungkook pings you a message, though.

He doesn't expect a response, but he lies awake until he sees your read receipt confirm that you've seen it.

Sadness doesn't suit you, sugar. I'm not gonna pry, but if you ever need a ride earlier than normal out of Daerim, give me a call.

He spent a good six minutes debating whether or not to end his message with a kiss, eventually deciding against it. No need to make the message any softer than it already was.

To his surprise, a bubble pops up on your side of the chat thread.

His heart twinges, your response saying everything he wished he had with just one simple letter:

JUNGKOOK HAS A terrible habit of taking out his stress on the people around him; the ones that he holds closest.

"I just don't see why it's such a big issue," Jimin says through a mouthful of salad greens. His teeth chomp so loudly that Jungkook thinks they'll have to swing by the dentistry labs later that afternoon. Which Jimin'll probably like, considering he won't stop fucking rambling on about a dentistry student at the moment. "She's hot, she's got guys practically falling at her feet and she's interested in you. It's one party. Stop being so fucking boring."

Yoongi casts Jungkook a sympathetic look. He doesn't work so much at the moment, what with his chemistry finals coming up, and especially not in the Daerim area.

That's Jungkook's market now - but he did happen to have a drop-off for a last-minute order a couple of weeks back. Territory isn't an issue between the friends, with Jungkook respecting Yoongi far too much to ever tell him to back off, or to not take deals in that area.

He had been about to approach Jungkook that night, when he noticed you crossing the street, a smile plastered on your face. He couldn't see Jungkook's face from the angle he was at, but he could see how raised his cheeks were. And so he left the pair of you to it, knowing better than to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted.

Unlike Jimin, apparently.

"Not boring," Jungkook retorts, tossing the wrapper his chopsticks came in at Jimin's face. "Got a bunch of assignments due in."

"Dude, you've been MIA for weeks. If we didn't have classes together, I'd have sent out a search party by now."

"You're being dramatic."

"You're being boring."

"Kids, settle down," Yoongi interjects, and wonders why he doesn't just find friends his own age. Logistics, he decides. The perils of having to save up for university before he could actually attend.

Jimin, being Jimin, then proceeds to bicker with Yoongi, leaving Jungkook free to find your face amongst the canteen crowd. You're sat with friends, none of whom he's ever met.

Your hair is up, like it always is during school, but you've let your grown out bangs frame your face. Pretty, he thinks. Prettiest girl here.

But then you stand up, and Jungkook turns caveman. Head empty. No thoughts. Just nonsense. Jesus Christ. Who gave you the right? God damn.

A few months ago, he would have looked at you in that outfit - a silky sage green playsuit over a white tee, sunglasses resting on your head like an alice band and a pair of white converse on your feet - and he probably would have scoffed. Wouldda said some bullshit about the fact you're dressed like a child, or that the weather isn't good enough to warrant such an outfit.

A few months ago, he was a fucking idiot.

You feel his gaze on you, just like you always do.

And you ignore it.

You've been getting good at that. Pretending as if you don't feel his eyes. As if you're unaffected, unbothered by the simplest form of intimacy: a single look.

He knows you've been keeping your distance. Watching from afar is all he can do when you slink out of class before he can catch your attention. He tells himself that he doesn't care.

Jungkook mutes the audio track of the editing software he uses when he stitches together your footage, so he doesn't have to relive your conversations or hear you laugh, or worse, hear himself laugh.

It's all a bit nauseating.

Maybe a party would actually be a good distraction.

"Tonight, did you say?" Jungkook pipes up out of nowhere, only dragging his eyes away from you when he sees you pull your phone out to send a text.

He pouts. You never text him. Not once since last Thursday.

And you were nowhere to be seen on Tuesday.

He had called you, and for once, you didn't pick up. He didn't try again. Decided that it was on you just as much as it was on him.

That being said, he didn't get home till four in the morning, two and half hours after his last deal. Spaffed away an entire tank of petrol. Rode in fucking circles. Just in case.

"Now we're talking!" Jimin grins. "Tonight. It's her birthday, she's rented a bar in Itaewon - Dad knows the landlord or something."

Jungkook didn't know who 'she' was. Hadn't been listening to that part of the conversation.

"Well, you kids enjoy yourselves," Yoongi sighs as he gets to his feet. "Can't risk my finals over a few crappy drinks in a shitty bar."

"Oh boo-hoo!" Jimin pouts. "Spoilsport."

When Jungkook enters the bar that evening, he's greeted with everything he expects. E-cigarette vapours cloud the air, a cocktail of flavours violating his senses as he heads to the bar, shitty EDM pumping through the speakers. It's been a while since he let his hair down, so to speak.

There's something about him that commands attention. People gravitate towards him, even through the smoke clouds and sweaty bodies. Girls buy him drinks. Guys buy him drinks, too. Anything just to spend time in his presence. Like leeches, they hope to share some of Jungkook's aura.

It's impossible, though. It's Jungkook's authenticity that gives him such charisma. Trying to emulate it only ever comes off as tacky - like the guy towards the back of the room who's permed his hair to look like Jungkook's. Pierced his eyebrow, too. Looks like shit. Jungkook doesn't want to judge him, but he's a few drinks deep, and being kind is what got him into that mess with you in the first place.

No good ever comes from being nice.

He takes a shot. Tequila. Chases it down with lemonade. The girl next to him is playing with the bracelets on his wrist. Her nails scratch a little bit, and he quite likes it, so he doesn't resist when pulls him onto the dancefloor. He observes the way she moves first, and isn't disappointed. She knows how to move her hips, and seems to like it when he puts his hands on them. He can't really feel the sensation when she kisses him. The alcohol has numbed his lips. Maybe Jimin was right to force him into this.

By the time he goes to the bar for another drink, he's faded. Off his tits. Helped himself to some of Hobi's stash that he was supposed to be distributing that evening. A little bit of coke never does him any harm. He knows his limits. Tastes like shit down the back of his throat, but he kind of enjoys it.

At first, he thinks he must be seeing things when he catches you with an espresso martini in hand, laughing with people he doesn't know.

You've this whole life that he's no part of. A whole entire world. He really is an outsider looking in.

You're one of the elite; an old-money heiress. The type to own a miniature dog breed and only fly business class. It was stupid of him to think your interest in him had been anything more than entertainment. A 'little bit of rough.' Excitement away from the confines of the life he's sure your parents must have planned out for you.

It might just be because he's coked up, but he doesn't care about any of that.

All he can think about is the fact he's pretty sure you've never looked more beautiful.

He feels so lost looking at you like this, as if he needs to be closer, for fear of losing sight of you entirely.

And so he sits beside you at the bar, orders his drink, waits for you to notice him. Which you do.

You'd spotted him the very second you walked into the bar, his hands all over some girl you don't know.

In all fairness, you didn't realise he would be there. Sohyun, the girl whose birthday it was and an old friend from high school, has been fawning over Jungkook for months. Just superficial drawling, comments about his thighs and the fact she'd quite like to be suffocated by them. Harmless, really. You know she's never actually made a move.

Sohyun doesn't know you're working on a project together. You avoid the topic of him altogether, especially with her.

But she does notice the way Jungkook is looking at you like he's seen a ghost; haunted and comforted all in the same expression.

"You're here," he finally says, and it feels as if your chest is about to cave in.

Turning to face him, you're casual in your posture. Unbothered. Completely unaffected by him, and the lipstick that's painting those lips of his that you like so much.

You raise your thumb and swipe it across his bottom lip. He's silent as you do so, watching you, holding his breath. His lip moves like rubber beneath your touch, soft and supple, springing back into position once you release it.

You raise your thumb to study the lipstick you've collected from him. "Plum's really not your colour, Jungkook."

He doesn't say anything, a little transfixed. It's barely ticked past midnight. You should be in Daerim.

In all fairness, so should he. Hobi had some choice words for Jungkook when he told him that he wasn't working that evening at such short notice.

You swipe open your phone and repeat the step, filming your thumb as Jungkook becomes captive to your touch. You want to look, to see how wide his dark eyes are, but you're too busy feigning disinterest.

"There," you smile, forwarding the video along before you lock your phone. "Just sent you a video of how I see the city tonight."

You've no right to be annoyed. You know that.

Jungkook can be in a bar with another girl's lipstick on his chin if wants to be. He can stay out all night, and he can stay in beds that aren't his. It's his prerogative.

But you are annoyed.

It's irrational, and pathetic, and you shouldn't be.

You barely know him. Not really.

After you'd shown him your favourite tree at the Design Plaza a few weeks ago, he'd insisted on taking you across town to Garosugil, a street in Gangnam lined with beautiful tall trees. He questioned why you only had one favourite tree, when you could have had an entire row of them instead.

At the time, you'd enjoyed the way his eyes looked beneath the lights of the designer stores that neither of you could afford. You didn't question what he had meant.

It seems like you found your answer.

"I'm not the city," he eventually says.

And he's right.

He's not the city.

Fuck it, no, he's not the city, but his eyes sparkle like Itaewon on Friday nights, and his hands are strong like the World Cup Bridge. He's not the city, but you find it so easy to get lost in him without a map, and sometimes wearing his leather jacket makes you feel like you're eating comfort food at your favourite breakfast bar over in Myeong-dong. He's not the city.

He's not the goddamn city.

But it feels a little like you'd accidentally anchored your navigation pin in him regardless.

All you do is smile, and tell him that he's right.

"Look," he begins, and you can smell the spiced rum on his breath.

"It's okay," you interrupt. Who are you to make him feel guilty for his promiscuous encounters?

He doesn't know what you do in the dark. Not really. If he did, he probably wouldn't have kissed you last week.

"No, I-" he cuts himself off like he always does when he doesn't wanna fuck up his words. The alcohol is doing him absolutely zero favours. "I dunno, sugar."

Your smile is sad, and he hates himself. You lean forward, press a kiss into his rosy cheek and whisper, "That'll be 20,000, Jeon."

And because he's drunk, and he wants to make things better, he reaches for his wallet. You were about to walk away regardless, but damn, if the boy doesn't know how to hit you where it hurts.

"Really, Kook?"

It's like he doesn't know you at all; doesn't remember how you banter with him, how you flirt with him. Or maybe you were just stupid for thinking that you'd been flirting with him in the first place. Maybe he just speaks to everyone how he speaks to you. Must have spoken to whoever was wearing that lipstick in the same way.

He doesn't answer, not verbally, but his brows pinch together and his lips develop a frowning pout.

When he stumbles home that evening, he asks himself the same question: really, Kook?

In the morning, he wakes alone, with no recollection of how he got home.

He doesn't remember the girl from the bar, or the fact that Jimin threw up in a fish tank, or that they're now barred from three different establishments for encouraging people to snort fish food (which Jungkook had stolen while Jimin was emptying his stomach). Regretfully, he doesn't even remember your arrival at the first bar. Doesn't remember how, for once, you'd dressed to impress just him.

His lack of recollection means fuck all though, 'cause despite his headache, the thing weighing down most heavily on him is guilt. He feels a sense of duty when it comes to you; duty that he hasn't performed lately. Were you getting home safe? Getting harrassed by scummy fuckers on the Daerim path of destruction?

Out of habit, he checks his phone, ignores the messages from unknown numbers and goes straight to your message thread to check the damage. He's surprised to find that he didn't drunk text you, but even more surprised to find that you'd messaged him. It's a video, just a few seconds, but it's enough to provoke some of his memories back.

He watches your thumb as it glides across his bottom lip. Watches it again. Notices the lipstick. Notices the thumb ring he never realised you wore before, and the fact that your nails are black now instead of their usual pink. There's something erotic about it; the way you touch him. The way you filmed yourself touching him. He'll probably get in trouble for it, but there's no way he isn't adding that to your project.

You consider ignoring his call when your phone flashes with his caller I.D.

It's only just gone seven, and you're still in bed, still try to make heads or tails of your life.

But you're weak, and so you slide your thumb across the little green icon.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey."

"You good?"

"So hungover, I think I might die," Jungkook jokes, voice hoarse. You wonder if he always sounds like this in the morning. "Just wanted to check in with you though. Barely seen you all week, and then I end up with a weird-ass video in our message thread that I don't remember."

Ah. You cringe.

"Ran into you at the bar," you shrug, not that he can see you. "Didn't realise you were friends with Sohyun."

"Hmm?"

"Sohyun... the girl who's birthday it was?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Nah, no, not really friends with her. Jimin forced me along."

You don't know all that much about Jimin, but from your limited interactions with him, it doesn't surprise you. Not in the slightest.

"Good night?"

Your question sounds forced and awkward, and he doesn't quite understand why.

"No idea," he admits honestly. "Remember fuck all."

He sounds as if he wants to keep talking but doesn't know what to say.

You don't know what to say either.

It's a mess. You liked it better when he hated you.

"Were you at the bar for long?" He asks, genuinely curious. "You're normally busy on Thursdays?"

"Just a drink. Had a last-minute change of plans."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..."

You know he wants you to elaborate. He wants more without having to explicitly ask for it.

Which is apt. Seems like it's a common occurrence with Jungkook.

"So what did you call for?" you change the topic, not wanting to dwell. The aversion doesn't go unnoticed by him, but it does go unquestioned.

"I-" there he goes again, cutting himself off prematurely. Coward. "Are you free? Now?"

Oh.

Not a coward. Just cautious.

"Now? I mean, yeah, I guess."

Jungkook takes a second, and then he bites down on the grenade pin.

"Can you come over?"

THE WAY YOU keep Jungkook hanging on tenterhooks is deliberate.

You're unsure of him, of his motivations, and what he does in the dark. And so, while you want to let your guard down, you can't. It's probably something to do with your parents - the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally - making their love entirely conditional and withdrawing it so suddenly.

It's the kind of shit you would have spoken about with your therapist, but you can't afford her anymore.

Can't afford much of anything, anymore. So much of the money you've earnt recently is tied up in credit card debt or rent.

Foundation was the first luxury that you'd compromised, and you're still yet to buy any more. Cheap stuff always makes you break out, and thankfully your parents did give you decent genetics, at least, so your skin was pretty clear.

It's the lack of make up that suggests to Jungkook you're opening up; not hiding from him anymore.

But it's also what tells him something is incredibly wrong, when you show up at his door half an hour later with a graze beneath your eye. Little flecks of reddened skin creep up your cheekbone, and Jungkook thinks it almost looks like carpet burn.

He hadn't noticed it last night, but it was dark, and he was drunk.

He lets you in, takes your jacket, offers you a drink. Everything that he knows he should do. Asks how you are, keeps a safe distance.

You don't know why you're here. Why you didn't say you were busy.

Except you do.

It's cause you miss him whenever you're away from him.

"I like these," you smile as you look at the artwork he has up in his room. The studio space is small, cramped, like all semi-basements are, but it's distinctly 'his'. A lot different to yours. Everything you own is still in boxes, not yet unpacked.

You've refused to come to terms with that being your life now.

"Thanks," he nods, watching you as you explore the box of a room he calls home. "They're from a guy down by the coach station. Has a little stall."

"You'll have to show me," you muse, turning to smile at him. It's saccharine, but the graze on your face is just so bitter. He hates it. Hates that he doesn't know how you got it. "Think I'd like some for my place."

"I have a feeling they'd look a little out of place in a princess tower, sugar."

Your shoulders shake as you laugh quietly, not correcting him. He doesn't need to know that you're a basement dweller, too.

"How's the editing coming along?" You steer the question away from your living situation.

"Nearly there," he grins, brimming with quiet excitement. Something about the way your camerawork looks with his editing technique layered on top just really works. He's always been confident with his final projects, and this one scares him a little bit, but in a good way. It's his best yet. Maybe he did need you after all.

"Can I see?"

"Not yet."

"Kook," you say, and - oh god - you're pouting. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel nervous.

It's that scary feeling again. A fear of the good stuff. Trepidation.

"What?" he grins, walking a little closer to you, letting his hand stroke against your back as he sits down on his bed. His fingers catch yours. It's fleeting, but enough.

You both feel it.

"Such a tease," you say, talking about the project, but there's innuendo in your words, too.

"Some girls like it," he flirts back.

"The girl at the bar last night seemed to like it."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, boyish and charming. It's annoying, you think, how impossible it is to be mad at him. It's not because you're weak, or because you can't resist his charms, but because he has a way of playing things off as if they're no big deal.

The girl at the bar? A nobody, his shrug suggests. She doesn't matter.

And it's so easy to believe, because you're the one in his apartment. You're the one he wanted here, the one that he missed. Or at least, the one that he was thinking of when he decided that he could do with some company.

It might be nothing, just something to pass the time, but it makes you feel wanted. Desired. Needed.

So you accept his hand when he reaches out towards you, pulling you closer, positioning you between his spread legs. You're standing, his eyes level with your chest, unashamed as he looks at your body.

"You look warm," he husks.

Just like he always uses your body temperature as excuse to give you his jacket, he's using it as an excuse now, too. The desired effect is obvious.

His AC switchboard is on the wall behind his bed. You'd clocked it when you were walking around, observing his possessions. Yanmar, the branding reads, the plastic outer frame beige. Once, it would have been crisp white. Age has dulled it. The monochrome monitor has a clock symbol in the corner, an indicator that Jungkook has his AC set on a timer. It suggests a sense of permanence. This is his home.

You haven't set your timer yet. You just flick it on when you get hot. It isn't your home.

He watches you as you move, curious. He's smirking, because he just cant help himself.

And because he knows that you like it whenever he does. Gets you a little bit flustered.

One of your knees hooks over his lap, and then the other follows suit.

He'd have said you were straddling him. You'd have argued that you were simply reaching over to the AC.

And you do exactly that, flicking the switch, watching as it lights up. "There. Much better."

Touche, he thinks. Smiles. Grips your thighs, as if he's scared you'll stand up again. Scared to lose you.

In all honesty, he had been hoping you'd take your shirt off, but he isn't going to complain with you in his lap, instead.

Doesn't matter if you mix the eggs with the milk first, or the flour. You still bake a cake at the end of it all.

Jungkook looks at you in such a way that you find yourself thinking maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so horrible to let someone in. His eyes are honest, void of ulterior motives. He's doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.

Wants that feeling back. The one where his lips are cushioned between yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.

Jungkook wants what he wants. Jungkook gets what he wants.

And, fuck, if it isn't bare minimum - but you know this, and you don't care. Bare minimum tastes pretty fucking good when you're licking it from his lips.

His hands roam, and you let them. He's rough with his movements, but the fleshy pads of his fingertips are soft, like silk against your skin. It's almost like he's afraid, filled with the knowledge that he can bruise, if he really wants to.

But he doesn't want to. He wants to ask about the graze that's sitting pretty where blush should be. Jungkook doesn't wanna hurt. He wants to heal.

"I catch you looking, you know," you tell him before he gets a chance, wanting to see how he responds. "Every now and again..." He hikes you forward in his lap. Places you dead centre over his cock. You can feel it. He can feel you. "...I catch you looking at me." He presses a kiss against the base of your neck, obsessed with the way it vibrates when you speak. "Why are you always looking at me?"

The fact that you're sat in his lap, grinding your hips against a solid bulge, should be indication enough.

Jungkook isn't going to spell it out for you. The eroticism of suggesting he's a fucking voyeur makes him want to laugh - but the way your nipples are tenting the shirt you're wearing distracts him.

His teeth graze your throat, hands creeping round to your tummy. His fingers are long, practically the length of the expanse between your hips and the underneath of your plump tits. Just a little further and he'd be holding them, cupping them, caressing. Just a little further.

"I look at you-" His hands continue their exploration as he leans back, watching the movement beneath your shirt. It somehow feels forbidden - like he can touch, but not look. After all, your question had sounded quite a lot like a telling off. "-because you like me looking at you."

He's fucking with you, trying to get a rise.

"Do I?"

The way that you whimper as he brushes against your nipples has him pulsing his hips. Your eyes close, head tilting back ever so slightly. You like this. The way he does it.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, lips wet against your neck. His fingers knead into the flesh of your tits, nipples hard in his palm as he relieves his stresses. "Bet you think about it all day, don't you? Think about the way I look at you when no-one else does."

Yes.

"All day?" you smirk between dulcet moans. "You're lucky if I pay you any attention at all."

"I think you're lying," he declares rather boldly, hands all over you. "I think it plays on your mind. I bet you fall asleep thinking about it, don't you?"

Yes.

"Ddaeng."

"I bet you get yourself off thinking about it."

Maybe you do.

Maybe you've whispered his name in the dead of night, imagining how it would feel to have his body weight on top of yours. Maybe you get intrusive thoughts of that kiss every single time you try to draw close. Maybe Jungkook has made you cum without ever laying a single finger on you.

But even if he has, you won't tell him.

And you don't need to, because his phone buzzing on the bedside table behind you cuts the conversation dry. Jungkook glances towards it automatically, then back up to you. His frustration is evident, jaw tense.

"I gotta get this," he mumbles, encouraging you off of his lap. You don't resist, accepting the last five minutes for what they were: a momentary lapse in judgement. He sighs as he stands, adjusting his trousers, swiping his phone and putting it to his ear. He strolls just far enough away that you won't hear what or who is on the other line. "Hobi. Speak to me."

Hobi, you muse. A friend? A colleague? Another girl?

You swallow back the nauseating feeling in your throat, pretending as if the prospect of Jungkook with someone else doesn't chip away at your self-worth a little bit. It wasn't like you thought you had anything special between the pair of you.

But he was right. You did like him looking at you.

More than you had realised until the prospect of him looking at someone else arose.

From the corner of the room, you could hear Jungkook trying to interrupt the person he was talking to. The first syllable would escape, and then he'd hush again, never quite managing to get the words out in full.

"Ho-" His nostrils look quite cute when they flare, lips pursed, a pair of unique dimples becoming evident. They're different to the usual ones you notice. Full of surprises was Jeon Jungkook.

"Hobi, can I-"

He runs his hand through his hair, already dishevelled from your hands.

"Hobi will you let me fucking talk!"

Attaboy.

The pause that follows Jungkook's outburst would suggest that Hobi had said 'no' - and then a few more choice words. If Jungkook rolled his eyes back any further, they'd surely get stuck.

"Look, I'm a bit tied up right now- no! No, not that. Who? No. I don't know a Taehyung, and even if I did- Huh? Ain't got nothin' to do with Holangi. Don't know a single one of 'em."

You try to decipher the conversation, but fail.

"You're a real fuckin' cockblock, yanno?"

You blush.

"Fuck it, fine. But you owe me. I'm not saying yes next time."

He glances over to you, catching your raised brow. Next time?

A smile catches on his lips. You thought this would be a one time thing?

He's barely hit second base. If there's one thing you're yet to find out about Jungkook, it's that he loves to win. He won't be satisfied until he's got a home run.

Any other girl, and he'd have probably been running laps for fun by this point, but you... yeah, you didn't bowl him easy hitters, that was for sure.

Jungkook moves with confidence, like he always does, as he strides over to the sofa, the bulge in his pants considerably softened but still present. "Take a picture," he grins. "It'll last longer."

You roll your eyes, but it doesn't stop you from asking if that's an offer. He laughs - that soft, gentle thrum of his vocal chords that sounds so heavenly in your ears - and tells you to behave.

"I just gotta help a friend out," he says as he reaches over you to grab his rucksack. It's heavier now than it ever is at school, the jingle of crushed tin foil rustling as it briefly catches on your knee. He pretends not to notice the curiosity in your eyes. Pretty eyes, though. He quite likes them, especially when he's towering above you and can see the whites just above your lashline. Yeah, he likes them alot. "I'll only be an hour or so. You can stay here, if you like?"

The way he phrases it is so casual that it's almost like you're old friends.

That, or Jungkook's just used to having women he doesn't know very well stay at his place.

You're unaware of the mental gymnastics he's putting himself through. If he could kick himself without looking like a twat, then he definitely would.

Shrugging, you give him a polite smile. "I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Nah, you're fine. I can give you a lift back to yours when I'm home? I'll be an hour. Two, tops."

Finally you agree, watching as he leaves like a lovesick puppy, listening out for the familiar rattle of his exhaust pipe. There's a cough and splutter of petrol spitting onto the sidewalk as his motor roars into action, and then he's gone.

You don't hang around for much longer.

You tell yourself that you will. That it would be nice. That you and Jungkook might not be so ill-suited after all.

But as the clock ticks by on the wall, you find yourself getting antsy. You find yourself asking stupid questions. Who exactly is Hobi? What was in Jungkook's bag? Why is he always down in Daerim? Is that where he's gone now?

The thoughts grow, adapt, intrude. Before you know it, you're considering what you'd find if you opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.

Realistically, you know it would probably be a wank sock and a tub of vaseline - it doesn't matter though. Your mind is wondering. You need to scratch the itch.

Just a little peek. He'll never know.

Oh, how you loathe your brain.

What's the worst you could find? A revolver? His ex-girlfriends panties? Love letters? A crack pipe?

Somehow, you'd rather find a pipe than panties.

It's not that you want Jungkook to be a crack addict. It's just the more that you think about it, the more you come to realise that you really, really don't like the idea of someone else feeling how warm his torso is, or how his upper teeth always nip slightly when he starts kissing you, until the pressure of his pecks plump his lips. You've only experienced it a handful of times, and it's stupid to get carried away, but he just makes it so easy.

He didn't ask you to stay, you tell yourself. He asked you if you wanted to.

Moments of instability like this are exactly why girls like you don't spend time with boys like him. It's stupid. Futile. A game for fools.

You leave his apartment as you found it, with not even a note to say thank you. He's had a squeeze on your tits. You deem that thank you enough. If anything, he should be thanking you.

When he returns, just half an hour after your departure, he can still smell your perfume. He tosses his keys down, calls out your name, and is met with silence. It takes him a moment or so to realise that he's alone.

There's a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn't recognise. Doesn't like. Hates, in fact.

But fine. Fuck it. He didn't want you there anyway. He'd just been doing a good deed. Being kind because - if your face was any indication - obviously someone else had been particularly unkind to you.

Jungkook thinks he knows who, now.

Daerim nights have always been sketchy, but the days are no better.

He's just the lowest rung on a long ladder of criminals who turn a profit when the sun goes down in Seoul.

Hobi had asked him to drop the stash in his rucksack off at a club, some gang-run joint that Jungkook doesn't know much about, so that he could get them back to his boss.

That had been the plan, at least.

He slings his bag down, now empty, and sinks into the sofa, not bothering to get a rag to clean himself up. No point. The dried blood will just wash off in his shower. It's not the first time this has happened. He doubts it will be the last.

Jungkook's nose is currently bleeding, dripping down his chin and hitting the ceramic tiles of his apartment with small slaps. A bruise is forming above his left eye socket, and his knuckles are red.

A punch to the face means very little to Jungkook.

He's young, but he's strong. Fast, too. It could have been a lot worse if he wasn't.

He pushes the back of his hand against his nose, sniffing, before unlocking his phone, and dialing a number he knows now by heart.

The dial tone bleeds out, just like his nose.

And so he hangs up, and calls the only person he knows he can rely on.

"Wassup, kid?"

Jungkook doesn't mean to sob, but he cant help it. He knows Yoongi has finals coming up. He doesn't need his bullshit on his plate, too.

"I got jumped Yoongs."

Fuck.

"You alright? Sound pretty bad? Where?"

"Daerim-"

"The fuck you doing there at this time of day?"

"Hobi wanted me to drop off my stash."

"Kook..." Yoongi speaks slowly, coming to a horrific realisation. A few punches had never bothered Jungkook before. Something bigger was at play. "The stash...?"

Jungkook can hear it in Yoongi's voice: fear.

"Gone."

Yoongi sighs down the line. "Hobi know yet?"

"No."

"Alright, get outta your flat," Yoongi begins, not wasting time. Now is not the time for emotions, and it's clear that Jungkook isn't capable of that just yet. "I need you to go somewhere safe, somewhere you can lie-low for a little bit alright? Let me sort it-"

"Yoong-"

"Let me sort it. I got you into this mess. Don't sweat it."

"Ple-"

"Kook. Seriously. Trust me with this."

Yoongi doesn't let him debate it any further - and it's just as well he doesn't, because as soon as he hangs up the phone, another call comes through. Jungkook wants to answer it. Really, he does.

Jungkook's just very aware of the fact that the guy who jumped him had almost been waiting for him. Right by the entrance of the apartment block which he always picked you up from.

In between blows, he'd warned Jungkook to 'stay the fuck away from the girl'.

The girl who's now returning his call.

"Hey," you say animatedly, having not expected him to call. You thought the pair of you would resume your usual awkward routine of pretending like nothing ever happened. "Sorry, I was in the shower. You good? Sorry I left, I just did-"

"I need a favour," he doesn't bother with formalities.

You want to banter with him, to flirt, but the tone of his voice warns you not to. So instead you tell him that you'll do whatever he needs.

"Can I come over?"

Fuck. Anything except that.

"Please."

YOU DON'T EXPECT to say yes. You don't expect to care more about him than you do about protecting your own dignity. You don't expect Jungkook to traipse down the stairs that lead to your slovenly open door with a glum look on his bloodsoaked face, as you stand there waiting for him.

But he does.

He makes no comment, no remark about the building. Just wraps his arms around your head, cradling you against his chest as you stand in your doorway. You can hear his heartbeat, thud, thud, thud against his ribs.

Go somewhere safe, Yoongi had told him. It was a no brainer.

"I'm sorry," he says, eventually pulling himself away from you. "I didn't know who else to ask."

You tell him it's fine, and you mean it. Keeping up pretences doesn't really matter so much anymore. Perhaps honesty was overdue from the both of you.

"The fuck happened to you?" You ask, tenderly reaching up to stroke away some of the dried blood from his lip. He winces, hisses, body tense, but he lets you continue. "Sorry."

"Could ask you the same, sugar," he speaks kindly, not wanting you to think he's being critical as he nods to the entryway behind you.

You grit your teeth together and let your hand rest on his shoulder. "King kicked the princess out of the castle."

And, suddenly, it doesn't seem embarrassing anymore. In fact, it seems perfectly apt that Jungkook knows. He doesn't pry, don't push for further clarification. Just nods. Accepts your reality.

"Castles are overrated, anyway," he presses a kiss to your head, and gently guides you through the threshold. The corridor is short, opening up to an open plan studio. The layout varies from Jungkook's, but it's similar in size. Small.

"Ignore the wallpaper," you say of the awkwardly granny-ish floral print. It's beige, so not totally offensive, but dear god, you think it looks like vomit.

"No," he grins. "It's... wow. Your landlord really knows how to make a statement, don't they?"

You perch on your bed and cringe. "A statement... a crime against interior design. Whatever you wanna call it."

Jungkook continues to pace around your room with a curious smile. He's partially deflecting from the fact he knows you're probably dying to ask about his face, and why he was so desperate to be with you, but he's also interested in the life you neglected to share with him.

Brown cardboard boxes are piled high in the corners, your possessions not yet unboxed.

This place is just temporary.

You've got three and a half million won sat on your desk. A couple more weeks, just a few, and you'll have enough for a deposit on a decent flat. Then you can get a regular job, something stable, and you won't have to worry. You could work through the summer and then figure out what to do next. Just as long as you keep on moving upwards, you'll be happy.

"So," you begin gingerly, as you head to the kitchenette beside your bed, wetting a cloth beneath your tap. "You gonna tell me what happened to your face?"

He takes your previous position, inviting himself to sit on the end of your bed, anticipating your return. There's light coming in from the thin windows by your ceiling, hitting directly onto your back. He thinks it's apt. Thinks you're the kind of girl who deserves a spotlight. Thinks that Mother Nature agrees.

Jungkook shrugs, in that lazy, boyish way he so often does, as you walk towards him. He spreads his legs, encouraging you between them, letting his hands graze your thighs. You pretend not to notice as you press the damp cloth to his cheek. Tiny crows legs appear at the edges of his eyes, face wincing from the contact. It's painful.

But being alone would be more painful. He chose to be here. To be with you.

And so he tells you what happened, with as much honesty he can muster. There are some things better left unsaid, his occupation being one of them. You listen attentively, dabbing at his wounds, a frown etched into the lines of your face.

"Stay away from the girl, huh?" you muse, avoiding his eyes as you study his face. His nose is still bleeding, but every time you tell him to tilt his head towards the ceiling, it ends up back in its original position. He can't see you as well with his head tilted back. Doesn't like it. Doesn't wanna do it. "Could be any girl."

Jungkook's dimple forms in his cheek. "No. No, it couldn't."

His fingers that have been grazing at your thighs squeeze tenderly, letting you know he means it. More than he thinks you know. More than he knows he should.

There's a chance that any words spoken between the pair of you could be misconstrued. He doesn't know what his feelings for you are, and you don't really understand yours for him - but you understand your body, and the electric current running beneath your lips, dying for a connection. A little spark.

So you do the only thing that makes sense: you kiss him.

And he kisses you back. Slowly, tenderly, deliberately. His lips melt into yours, hand pulling your legs closer. He encourages you onto his lap, as if he needs to be insufferably close to you. Once you're positioned how he wants, just like you were earlier, he grips your waist, keeping you stationed there.

Jungkook knows he should stop.

He knows he should have paid attention to the pair of fists that warned him off you as his skull hit the pavement earlier that morning, knows he shouldn't let himself get so wrapped up in such a red flag - but he just can't help himself. It's like you're laced in the narcotics he deals, and slowly but surely, you've gotten him addicted.

He's craving. Dying for a hit. Just a little taste of your tongue on his, the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Red flags, red stop signs, pretty red lips all plump from the kisses he's smothering them in. Red blood, too. His nose is still a little damaged, and the way he's painting your cheek in crimson should repulse you.

Should repulse you.

Like fuck it does, though. You can smell the copper twinge through his plasma, and suddenly it's as if the Cullen's had the right idea all along.

When he pulls back, only for a moment, hands clutching at the side of your face to assess the look in your eyes, he notices it too. Hard not to. You blush all the fucking time, so much so that he knew the shade by heart, and the rouge on your cheek is far too vibrant, too scarlet. It's his fucking blood on you.

It should scare him, he knows. But the way you're looking at him, eyes all wide and glassy, lips swollen and waiting for more, has him unable to think straight. It has him obsessed, the way you don't care. The way he's covered you in blood and you still seem to want more.

But there's a softness to the way in which you're looking at him, mild confusion, as if you've got the same strange warmth running through your veins as he does. It's not a feeling he recognises, pulsing through his bloodstream with every beat of his heart.

Perhaps it's nothing. Jungkook tells himself that it is. Just adrenaline, probably.

You look at his lips, all crimson and blushed, and realise you much prefer the shade of his blood to the plum lipstick that had tainted them the night before. You're delicate as you wipe your thumb along his pouted bottom lip, just like you did in the bar. Except this time, the jealousy that had blossomed in your diaphragm is nowhere to be found. There's still a pinch beneath your ribs, but this time it's in your heart, and it's far more aching. This time, you feel his hurt.

Jungkook reaches down to where you left the damp cloth on your bed. It's wet and heavy in his hand, a little warm, too. He brings it to your face and dabs silently, cleaning you of the mess he's made. Fixing you. Restoring you to your former glory.

Its futile, 'cause his nose is still fucking bleeding, and you don't plan on leaving it more than a moment before you kiss him again. You simply don't care. Want him for all that he is, blood, sweat and tears.

But still, he insists on ridding you of his stain. Doesn't want to tarnish you. He's soft with the way he presses the cloth against you, mirroring how tenderly you were with him earlier. He's learning from you, adapting to you. Wants to be like you. Wants to be 'better'.

You watch as his eyes scan your face, brows twisted like they always do when he's about to say something but stops himself. The vertical groove just above his cupid's bow is red, blood tacky as it dries. If he kisses you now, he'll leave a stamp; a mark that says 'you're mine.'

It's too much. Far too much. You aren't his, and he knows this. He never wanted you to be his, in fact, for the longest time, he had wanted to be anything but yours.

But now he sits beneath you, crestfallen, heart in his throat, blocking him from speaking.

This was never part of the plan. He was never supposed to end up here. He was supposed to escape from the trenches, to get on the path of straight and narrow. Thrive. Succeed.

And it's not your fault, he knows this, but there's a little part of him that wonders what could have happened if he hadn't seen you that night in Daerim, hadn't seen the way your eyes look beneath night market lights, hadn't heard your laugh as he looked at his favourite view of the city.

You whisper his name, your palm resting flat on his chest, and his brows soften.

It doesn't matter what could have happened, anymore.

All that matters is what is happening.

The shortness of his breath, the flutter of his lashes against your cheek, the swelling between his legs. You can feel it, feel him, and he knows it. The way he's pulsing his hips upwards is testament to that.

It's a comfortable position, you sat on his lap on the end of your bed, not one that either of you wishes to break from. Not even as he begins to breathe against your lips, unable to properly control his reactions thanks to the friction beneath his briefs.

"Want you," he mumbles, pressing his lips into yours, the air in his lungs giving itself up to you. "Want you so bad."

You shake your head, brows pinched just a little. "I'm bad news for you."

And maybe that's it. Maybe he just wants you because he knows he shouldn't - but fuck it, if he can't let himself indulge in simple pleasures, then why bother getting himself beaten to a pulp over you?

"I'm bad news for myself, sugar," he husks against your lips, tickling them as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Deeper, deeper. Closer, closer. He wants it.

Wants it all.

Wants you naked.

Wants to know what it feels like to have you gasp in his ear as his hands roam beneath your panties.

Wants to know if you'd still look at him like you're stargazing even when he's railing you.

Wants it. Wants you. Just wants.

And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets.

He slips his hand up your shirt and pushes it upwards, before letting it crumple to the floor. You know that you should be more bashful, a little bit ashamed, but it's impossible when he's looking at you like this.

He has a visual now that he didn't have earlier. The glow of your skin beneath his bruised knuckles looks almost sinful, like he's plucking forbidden fruit from its tree. He'll pay the price for this, and he knows it, but he just can't resist.

Jungkook has always been a boob guy, always loved the way he could get girls moaning with just a little pinch, but never had he had a pair quite like yours. So full, so round, he's not sure his hands are big enough, and that doubt makes him throb. Soft and pillowy, he groans as he watches his fingers sink into them, utterly enthralled. His hips adjust, pushing upwards, pressing himself into you. He wants this. Wants it so bad.

You can feel the metal of his rings against your skin, and then you can feel his lips, his tongue, his teeth as they graze against the plush skin of your chest. He licks around your nipple, letting the air cool the wet trail, hardening you for him.

He's utterly obsessed.

His mouth pulls at the sensitive skin, suckles, sucks. His lashes are splayed on the tops of his cheeks, lips pouting around your nipple as he does so, small groans of pleasure vibrating against you. It will be a miracle if he can't already feel you seeping through your panties.

You whimper as his teeth graze your hardened nub, and his eyes flutter open. He doesn't detach himself, but instead, he keeps your gaze as he sucks. The pressure varies, and then it's hard. Really fucking hard. So hard you'll think he'll somehow give your nipple a hickey - but fuck, if you don't love the sensation.

"Christ," you gasp, before biting down into your bottom lip.

"Too hard?" He mumbles against you, peppering you in kisses and soft licks as if to apologise.

"No," you pant. "Was good. Was great. Just - fuck."

You laugh, soft and airy, and Jungkook smiles from the sound.

He likes this. Likes how you react to him.

And while he’s patient and gentle with you in a way that he isn't with other people, Jungkook has only ever known how to have sex in one way. It's ingrained into him, as if he was made to fuck like it; like he doesn't give a shit about the person he's screwing.

Jungkook doesn't do love, and you know this. He trades. Works in transactions. Settles debts. You don't really know this part, but you aren't stupid. You know he's never in Daerim for any good fucking reason.

You don't question it as his hands move south, slipping past your underwear. In fact, you're smug as he curses when he feels how wet you are, fingers slippery in your panties.

He pushes a finger into you, and closely follows it with a second. They curl ever so slightly, and it's at this point that you realise Jungkook is absolutely going to ruin you. Just a few pumps. Just to ease you up.

He's bored of waiting. Wants you now.

The pair of you move fluidly, minimal discussion needed, just occasional checks of 'you good?', or 'this okay?'. The answer is, always, without a doubt, 'yes'.

He gets you on your back, panties pulled off, legs not quite hanging off the edge of your bed, but nearly. He strips himself of his shirt first, and grins as he notices the way you whine.

"What?" he toys.

"Nothing," you flirt. "Just wish you'd hurry up. I'm a busy woman."

"Oh yeah?" The sound of his buckle coming undone is enough to make you fucking leak. "Busy doing what?"

You neglect to tell him. Not because you don't have a witty remark lined up, but because he's fucking naked now.

What a sight to behold he is. Body lean, honey skin flawless, muscles defined. You pretend like you're looking at his body, but your eyes are drawn to his cock. You'd expected length, but not the girth - and he has both in abundance. The tip of his cock is blushed and wet, with Jungkook just as aroused as you are.

Noticing your gaze, he rolls his eyes, and toys with your pussy again, lightly running his fingers up and down your slick entrance. When he pulls back, his fingers are still connected by thick clear fluid. His cock throbs.

"You're gonna get me so dirty," he hums, as he crawls onto the bed above you, before holding his fingers to your mouth. "Clean them."

Part of you wants to say no, but the other part of you can see his darkened gaze and the way his cock is twitching. You can't refuse.

His fingers are on the tip of your tongue, the tip of his cock nudging so close to your entrance that he may as well just do it. You raise your hips, encouraging, but he retracts a little just to tease.

The fingers that were in your mouth come to grip at the soft flesh of your cheeks, his thumb on the other side. "Don't you fucking dare."

There's tepid aggression to his movements, and it makes you feel vulnerable - but you like it. You like the way he's gripping your face, the ways he's looking at you with narrow eyes, just like he used to do across the lecture hall. You like being reminded of when you were nothing to one another, because it makes the satisfaction of feeling his stiff cock jump a little against your pussy as you moan so much more worth it.

He used to hate you, now he can't wait to bury his fat cock in you. Victory is yours, even if he's trying to act like he's the one holding all the cards.

You don't correct him, though. You let him think he has the upper hand. You'll play pillow princess just this once if it means you get to see him a little bit mean again.

"Dare what?" you pout, cheeks still squished between his fingers. He grips a little tighter, your chest rising as you gasp. He pulls your face towards his, sinking down into your lips, until he decided he's done with you.

He stands by the edge of your bed, and yanks your ankles towards him, pulling you close enough to the edge for him to fuck you like this.

The loss of his grip is unwelcome by you, a frown forming. He isn't looking at your face now, eyes down on his cock, which he's rubbing between your soaked pussy lips, but he can almost hear you brace yourself to whine. He smirks, one side of his mouth lifting, head knocking to the side slightly.

"Don't you dare try and set the pace," he finally husks, still not glancing up towards you. He's taking his time, making sure the head of his cock kisses every inch of your exposed mess. "Nearly got my nose fucking broken for this pussy-" he spits, hard and fast, right onto your clit, spreading it with his cock. "- so I'm gonna make sure I get what I'm owed."

He spreads your thighs back, his fingers gripping harshly just how you like it. Perhaps you should pretend to be embarrassed by the fact your cunt is leaking for him, begging for him, but the way he hisses at the sight, chest heaving, prevents it.

Jungkook's thought about this before, about how pretty and pristine you'd be, about the mess he'd hoped you'd make. Thought about it so many times. Fingers wrapped around his shaft in the middle of the night when no one can hear him chant your name as he spills over. Yeah, he's thought about it a lot.

His imagination has never done you justice. One look and he's obsessed. Wants to spend hours touching, caressing, licking you.

"Take it," you whisper. "What you're owed, Jungkook. Take it."

He looks up now, brows threaded together. You don't recognise the contemplation his face is laced in, but he doesn't give you the chance to question it, for you begin to feel that burn. The one your fingers can never give you. It's alien, and yet familiar, inherently natural but intrusive nonetheless.

"Shit," is all you can manage to say, eyes locked on his.

He wants to watch himself sink into you, watch as his fat cock forces your slick wetness out of your pussy, but he can't. Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your chest is heaving and your eyes are watering beneath tense brows. Not when your mouth is hanging open and just begging to be fucked like your tight little pussy.

And then he starts feeling something a little strange. A little unfamiliar. A little bit like his heart has stalled to beat in time with the contractions of your chest. And though he's not in pain anymore, too busy feeling you, he's aware that it hurts. Aware that he can't fuck you like he wanted to, 'cause his chest needs to be against yours. Needs to feel the beating drum beneath your ribs.

He doesn't even realise that he's paused until you whine a meagre, "please."

"That's more like it," he hums, as he pushes into you, the base of his thick cock plugging the weeping mess that he's made. You know that as soon as he pulls out, you'll be whimpering, begging for the tip of his cock to kiss your walls once more. "See how nice things can be when you just behave yourself, huh?"

His hips push just a little deeper, and he knows that it hurts. Knows that the little gasp isn't entirely from pleasure. He's seen his cock. Doesn't take a genius to work out that it can do damage.

"You can take it," he tells you, and like a pathetic, whimpering mess, you fucking nod. He's still inside of you, still deeper than you thought possible, and then his hand is on your stomach. He grabs your hand and places it beneath his. "You feel that?" He retracts just a little, pushing back in just as deep. Beneath your hands, there's a bulge. External or internal, it doesn’t matter. It's him. He does it again. "You feel me taking what's mine?"

Whatever the fuck you moan is incoherent, but he doesn't give a shit, 'cause he's ploughing now. Bucking his hips into you like pneumatic fucking drill. Shit. He's done this before. Got it mastered to a fine art. Momenta worthy of a museum exhibition.

Your tits are pillowed on your chest, nice and round, wobbling as he takes command of your body. He slaps one of them, just to watch it ripple, before that firm grip of his is on it. "Perfect tits," he growls the compliment, not really meaning for it to come out. "Gonna put my cock between them later," he tells you. "Gonna cum all over them."

He doesn't tell you that he'll also clean them with his hungry tongue, before delivering his cum into your mouth. Figures he'll just let you find out. His brain is working at a mile a minute, trying to reign back thoughts of sharing his cum with you in such a filthy manner. God, he wants to do heinous things to you. With you. For you.

But for now, he needs to focus on his cock. It's rubbing inside of you, nuzzling. He knows he's weeping, and that his precum is getting mixed with your slick juices. Knows he won't last long if you keep whining like that. Mewling. Purring.

He stalls his hips, letting go of your tits as they jiggle back into position. Your cheeks are flushed, imprints of his fingers reddening your skin. Lips pouted and resting ajar, Jungkook thinks they've never looked more fuckable. More kissable. More whisper-sweet-nothings-against-able.

"You ever shut the fuck up?" he teases, but is quick to notice confusion flash in your eyes. He didn't mean it as an insult, but it's easy to read the hurt in your perplexed features, and the way you begin to try and push your legs together. It's futile. His cock is keeping you open.

But you feel embarrassed, as if your natural reactions to him are a turn-off. It's silly, because he's quite literally inside of you, fat and solid, using you to milk himself. Of course, he's not turned off, but you're hyper-aware of how vulnerable you're feeling right now. It had been fun to pretend like you were in control, but as soon as he slipped inside of you, all sense of power had evaporated.

He doesn't realise this though. Doesn't realise that his cock is nudging so deep into you that it's practically knocking against your heart. Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Your mind taunts, but you daren't answer.

"Hey," he coos, one of his large palms stroking on the inside of your thighs. That uncomfortable, obscure feeling is back again. The one that tells him he needs to be closer to you. This time, he doesn't ignore it. His hips pulse, just the once. A reminder he's still very much into this. Into you.

His hands grip your waist, softly this time, as he manoeuvres himself onto the bed with you, keeping himself snug. Your head is by the pillows, Jungkook's knees on either side of your ass, his chest flat against yours as one of his hands cradles your jaw. He presses a chaste, airy kiss against your lips, and whispers, "I love the way you sound." He kisses you again, hips rocking. You're trying not to, but you whine. "Fuck, sugar. You're my favourite fucking sound."

Your legs hook over his back, and he groans now. The angle change lets him delve deeper, your walls massaging him so well. Jungkook thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He's slipping in and out of you with minimal force, skin slapping together. He makes sure to let his moans roll off his tongue and into your mouth. You eat them up and give them back. The pair of you aren't kissing anymore, just gasping and humming into one another's mouths. He's stuttering.

There's a pause as he adjusts his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs. He likes it, the way you seem to melt around him in all capacities. His lips nudge against yours as his steady hips begin to rock into yours again.

You groan as he pushes down on your legs, pushing you as far apart as your bones allow. It's typical of him, seeing how far he can take things. Push them to the limit. Always gets him in trouble. There's a click, as air escapes from the socket where your leg meets your pelvis.

"You good?" He checks and you respond with a kiss. Hands tangled in his hair, you hope it conveys the fact you've never felt better. He laughs a little, soft and serene, into your mouth, the weight of his body keeping you trapped beneath him.

You're morbid in your thoughts, and consider how nice it would be for Jungkook to suffocate you like this; steal you of the air you breathe with his tiny giggles of satisfaction. So, so nice, you think.

And so you tell him. You tell him that you want his hand on your throat. He takes a second to respond - not because he doesn't want to, but more so because he can't believe you actually asked.

He doesn't normally fuck the girls he cares about like this. Then again, he never really cares about the girls he fucks.

"God," you moan as he pushes one of your legs over his shoulder. His body is clammy against yours, skin hot and damp, chest lean but built. He's working hard; not just for his release. For yours too. Rams into you, stuffing your cunt with his cock, dipping his head to lather your clasped throat in wet kisses.

"That's it, sugar," he growls as his teeth graze your neck. "Need to hear how good you feel. Need to hear what my cock does to you. You owe me."

You want to laugh. You're about to laugh. But then his head dips down to your chest, and he latches onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking so hard that all you can do is tremble. He knows you like this. Knows it makes your pussy all creamy and slippery for him - and like clockwork, he's proven right. The sounds are lewd. He loves it.

"On your back," you husk, punctuating your instruction with a whimper as he suckles even harder. He shakes his head, eyes closed, mouth vibrating and full of your tit. Not a chance, he tries to say, but it just sounds likes he's forgotten how to speak. Too busy. Too close to spilling himself into you. Doesn't wanna get distracted.

So focused, he doesn't realise you're pushing him over until you're on top. He frowns as he detaches from your nipple with a pop, but his hands are running all over your body regardless. Obviously doesn't care that much. Course he doesn't. That ache in his chest has settled.

Until he starts thinking about it, and oh god, it's back and it's fucking unbearable.

"C'mere," he pulls you flush against him, as your hips begin to work against him. His hands cradle your face so he can kiss you as deeply as he likes, tongue slipping into your mouth, as his cock slips up and down your pussy. This, he thinks, is it. This is what fucking should feel like.

"Shit," he whispers. "Shit."

The friction of his surprisingly neat hair that rests at the base of his cock is nice. Real fuckin' nice. You're not even fucking him anymore, just grinding against it. Using it, using him, to get yourself off.

You think you're being slick, like he won't notice - but he does. Of course, he does. He's obsessed with your body.

"God, yeah, baby," his back arches, pressing his chest against yours, eyes closed. "Use me like that. Use me," he bites into your shoulder gently. "Fucking use me."

He means it. Doesn't give a shit about himself anymore. Just wants to feel you tremble as he holds you close. Wants to press kisses against your lips as your moans become undignified. He needs to be the reason you cum; needs to be responsible for your oxytocin rush.

You sit up a little, and Jungkook holds back a pout from the separation - but how can he complain when you're sat like that, his cock buried inside of you, hair a mess and with eyes like his favourite constellation? He's hypnotised as your boobs begin to bounce, pussy working up his shaft like the true Daerim woman of the night you are. He's forgotten about all of that, now. Can't think about anything except for how to not fucking cum.

He can't and he won't. Not until you do. But you're bouncing, and it's wet, and he can hear it, and it feels so fuckin' good. His toes are curling, torso tensing, eyes half-shut, pretty little pout hanging open. He's fucking whining. "Yeah like that," he encourages. "Gonna milk me so well, baby. Gonna... ah. Fuck. Gonna-"

Jungkook can't fucking speak. He wants to. Wants to tell you how fucking beautiful you look, how he wants this endlessly, how he never wants to let you go. Needs to tell you how right this feels, how good you make him feel, how he doesn't understand his feelings but fuck, just that he is feeling. Feeling so much.

You're not sure at which point he started calling you baby, but you're actually convinced that the name alone could tip you over the edge.

The pace of your hips is slowly, savouring. He doesn't quite get it. You were so close. Why stop?

The stillness of your movements makes way for something new. He feels a throb around his fat cock, which is begging for release. Notices the way your chest is shaking like you've got hiccups, tiny whines of pleasure making themselves known. Your pussy was always warm, but it's hot now, contracting around him.

And then he gets it.

"Oh, shit," he mewls, his hips slowly pumping upwards. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Let yourself cum. All over my dick," he encourages, hedonistic and self-serving. "That's it. Cream for me."

His slow movements as he fucks up into you amplify the sensation, the tip of his cock nudging languidly against your tight walls. Your entire body shudders, the feeling rippling from your chest right down to your toes. You rasp out moans, the sensation all too powerful, a creamy mess pooling at the base of his shaft. There's a jerk as your muscles spasm, your orgasm well and truly delivered. He pulls you down and into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your back.

Your body rests on his, spent and sensitive, and he can tell you can't hold out for much longer. He pushes back the hair that's sticking to your clammy face, and presses kisses into your temple.

"So big," you hum, voice hazy, eyes shut.

"Just a little more, baby," he promises. " You're doing so well. Just a little..."

You've considered how Jungkook would orgasm on more than one occasion - and you're pleasantly surprised to find that your imagination was wrong. There's no grand declaration, nor large grunt. He's not aggressive, either, like you'd half-hoped he would be.

Instead, Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls. "Baby," he drowsily mewls, and then it's happening. His cock pumps into you, unloading thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy. The first one is so desperate that you're almost positive you can feel it paint your insides. You moan along with him, utterly obsessed with this, him, whatever the fuck just happened.

He doesn't withdraw immediately. Just lays there and kisses your skin, absolutely spent.

You don't move a muscle. You don't want it to be over. Don't wanna lose this. Lose him.

When you tilt your head to look at him, he's smiling. Eyes closed, cheeks appled. Serene. In a state of fucked-out bliss.

You tell him that he's pretty, and he lets out an airy laugh, covering his face with one of his hands. You move his hand and watch him fondly, enthralled with the grin that he's struggling to fight.

He turns to look at you, and the smile he's been boasting amplifies. "God, you're gorgeous."

It's not a new observation; just one he's never voiced before. One that he was able to resist saying. But you're naked now, chest pillowed against his, eyes glowing and nose blushed.

You hum, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I'm glad you chose to come here."

Just like that, there's a knot in Jungkook's stomach that seems to anchor that feeling he keeps having.

"Yeah," he nods. "Me too."

IT'S THREE IN the afternoon by the time you wake from your post-fuck snooze. Jungkook's never had one of those before. Hated being sticky after sex with anyone else. Always had to shower - but with you, he wants to stick to you like glue.

"Should have filmed that," he hums, the tips of his fingers stroking up your arms. You aren't sure if he's joking or not. "Would have given us a unique take on the project. Probably wouldn't have gotten us very high grades, mind you, but art is subjective."

"Some would argue that the critique of art is objective," you muse back, still blissfully cum-drunk from the events prior to your nap. Jungkook's nose has stopped bleeding, and the pair of you have almost forgotten the reason he showed up in the first place. "Documentary maker by night, porn star by day," you flirt. "Although it's cute that you think you fuck like a porn star."

"I felt you shaking," he says, knowing there's no possible way that you didn't enjoy it. His nose feels a little cold after all the trauma of the morning, so he buries it into your hair. "Can't fake that."

"That's what I'm saying," you simper, pressing a kiss against his bare torso, just below the meeting of his collarbones. And then another, simply for good measure. "Porn stars never actually look like they're making the woman feel any good." You trail down his chest, tongue licking gently at the darker skin around his nipple. "You... yeah you don't fuck like a porn star." And then you suck a little. He hisses, in the best possible way.

"Don't," he says. "Not ready to go again."

You laugh.

Jungkook thinks he's reached Nirvana. Almost certain, in fact. Never had a girl do that to him before. He loves to give it, but hasn't ever thought to receive it. Wonders what other things you'll do to him that he's never had done before. He can feel his cock fucking twitching again, achy and sore, definitely not recovered yet from how hard he went earlier - but god, he wants it. Wants to bury himself inside you again. Belong to you.

His hands paw at you, one gripping on your chest, the other on your ass, pulling you closer. Your leg hooks over him, and he can feel how wet you still are on the side of his thigh. His balls fucking tighten. He can feel it happening, blood rushing to his crotch.

Yet despite it all, he just kisses you. Softly. Tenderly. Merely his lips languid between yours. Withdraws slowly. Keeps his eyes closed. Bliss.

"The fuck have you done to me, sugar?" he whispers, dark eyes opening to look into yours. His speech is husky, like he trying to steal the answers of a pop-quiz from you. You can't help him. You don't have a clue what the answer is. You're just as stuck as he is. "Got me feeling all fuzzy 'n' shit."

"Just a sugar rush," you smile. "It'll pass."

You're both acutely aware that it won't, but that will be a problem for another day.

"Tell you what," Jungkook muses, though his thoughts are shallow. He's not digging deep. Just talking for the sake of it. "I might not fuck like a porn star, but you don't fuck like a hooker."

He pulls your arm up so that he can study the crease of your elbow. You let him move your body like you're a barbie doll. You'll be his toy, you think, if he wants. No bother.

His fingers press at the thin skin that covers your veins, inspecting.

"Not a scratch," he assesses. "So you're not an addict either."

You laugh, slightly amused. "No? Maybe I just don't inject."

Jungkook gives you a stern look. Hopes you're joking. Tells you that you better fucking be joking. The sweetness of your laughter tells him that you are.

"So?" you press. "I'm not a prostitute and I'm not an addict. It's your lucky day. What of it?"

Jungkook tilts his head down so that his nose is nestled into the crown of your head again. Comforting, he thinks. Smells like laundry. You must have washed your sheets recently.

His next statement takes you off guard.

"Only ever see three kinds of women down in Daerim."

And you know.

You know he knows.

You can feel it in the way he protectively presses his lips into your skull, as if he's Prince Charming trying to rid his Sleeping Beauty of the nightmare she's been living. Wake up.

But Prince Charming rides a white horse, not a petrol-spitting, air-cooled, steel-framed shadow that rips through the city at night.

There are no nightmares, either. You're already wide awake. There's no saving you.

He sighs against your head. Pauses. Resists, and then confronts.

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar."

You don't say anything for a moment, and then you're pulling away from him, reaching for your shirt. He doesn't like this. Misses your warmth, but doesn't stop you. Instead, he follows, sitting on the edge of your bed, the corner of your comforter lazily protecting his modesty. His muscles are relaxed now, a little crease in his stomach from the way that he's slouching, hands in his lap. Those Bambi eyes of his are peaking through his hair, cheeks red and grazed from the morning encounter he'd had in Daerim.

He watches as you pull your shirt over your head, hair just as messy as his, and a graze on your cheek to match. He was pretty certain before that it had been carpet burn, but now that he's seen it up close, softly rubbed his thumb against it during pretty kisses, he's sure of it.

You avert his gaze. Feel shameful. Hate that he knows. You never cared before. It was just a fun little secret, the fact that he didn't know you were no angel.

But you want him to think that you're one, now.

For a moment, you were sure that he had.

Instead, now, it feels like you're falling from grace.

He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back. "Please don't."

And so he doesn't. Just sits for a little while instead. "Do you want me to get dressed?"

You really don't.

But your tongue is lodged in your mouth and it won't budge. You turn away, internally furious with yourself. It's been a while since you've gotten like this; so dreadfully panicked that you can't talk. It's a once in a blue moon kind of thing, the early onset of a panic attack, but you're hoping it won't reach the stage of no return. Praying.

"Babe?"

He sounds worried now, and it's making it worse. Feels like you've just reached the top of Bukhan Mountain without taking a second to catch your breath.

Has your chest always been this tight? Or has someone just been wrapping rubber bands around your torso without you noticing?

It isn't possible, and you know this, but it feels like it and - oh God - you can hear him shuffling, the buckle of his belt clanging. He's leaving, he's leaving, he's leaving, your ribs cackle as they close down on your lungs.

There's a light hum behind you, like a wasp is coming to send you into a state of anaphylactic shock and then it stops. His jeans are tossed to the floor once more.

"Yoongi?" Jungkook speaks quietly behind you into the receiver of his phone. "Wassu- Yeah, yeah, I'm safe. I'm good."

I'm safe.

I'm good.

"Where are- Yoongi stop. Stop it. I'm being deadly fucking serious-"

You don't realise it, but your chest begins to mellow as you listen in to his conversation.

"It's my mess!" He shouts now. "I'll fucking fix it. I don't give a fuck what Hobi says. Where you at? The Zoo? I'll be there- Yes, I will. Don't do anything fucking stupid."

And then he hangs up, chucking his phone into your bed with more aggression than he'd ever wanted to show in your presence. You don't see it, back still turned, but you hear it, the way his phone rebounds against the springs of your mattress.

"Shit," he hisses, and when you turn to face him, you find that his head is in his hands, elbows on his knees.

Crouching by him, your chest expands. You don't give a shit about yourself anymore. Your palms rest just behind his elbows, eyes anchored below his, looking up.

"He's got his fucking final in an hour," is all Jungkook says. "He's gonna miss his fucking final."

He lifts his head, tender lips pouted, eyes bloodshot from the pressure he's been placing on his palms. Looks right at you. Decides he'll never trust another pair of eyes more.

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar," he relays. "But I do worse. So much fucking worse. And I've just gone and fucked it all up."

And while he blames it all on himself, you know it's your fault.

He didn't stay away from the girl. He tempted fate, tugged on the red string, and accidentally snapped it.

Forlorn, he slumps, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he bites down on it. It's only to stop it from trembling. Clouds lurk in his eyes, trying to block his vulnerabilities from you, but it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's scared.

"Take it," you say, lips in a flat line, eyes stern. You nod towards the pile of cash on your desk, and his eyes follow. "Take it. Pay your debts. I can earn it again. I don't have a deadline. You do."

He shakes his head.

"I'm not taking the money you've earned."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not," he protests and you've got it in your right mind to slap his pretty face silly. "Gonna be totally honest," he adds, "Don't really want your sugar baby money. Kinda resent it a little. Resent the fucker who gave it to you."

Jungkook hates him.

Doesn't know him.

Loathes him.

"So then give him the middle finger and take it," you plead. "He got you fucked up into this mess, he got you jumped, he got your stash stolen. Take his money and get yourself and Yoongi out of it. You don't have time to be fucking arguing with me."

He wants to fight back. You stop him.

"We can argue later," you promise.

And that ever-present effervescent feeling is back in his chest.

"Sugar," he speaks quietly. "Don't do this."

"Kook," you respond, voice much firmer than his. "You gotta do this. Yoongi shouldn't be fixing your mistakes and you know it. We can work it out on an I.O.U. basis. It's okay."

"I.O.U. suggests I'm gonna keep seeing you for a while," Jungkook mumbles. He isn't feeling as confident in himself as he had done earlier.

You stand, offering your hand to him so that you can pull him up with you. Neither of you acknowledge the fact that he's stark bollock naked. It's really not the time. Nothing you haven't seen before, after all.

"Well, yeah," you shrug with a straight face, but there's a glint in your eye. "I'd hope so. Pretty sure you said you were fuck my tits later? Gotta hold up your end of the bargain, sugar."

And despite it all, he laughs, toying with your hands before slipping his finger between yours. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" You squeeze his hands. "You're technically my sugar baby now."

"That's not how it works."

God, he knows he shouldn't be fucking about, wasting time flirting, but he just can't help himself.

"No?" You question, equally distracted.

"No," he says. "If you're paying me, and I'm fucking you, then that makes me a hooker."

He's not wrong.

"Oh, that's kinda hot," you smile, pulling gently on his hands to encourage him to lean down. He does as he's told, and kisses you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so fucked up," he whispers against you, knowing that it's exactly why he enjoys you so much.

You don't let the moment linger, though, tossing him his clothes and going to grab the money while he dresses himself. You stack it together, all nice and neat, using the desk to straighten the edges. The wedge is thick in your hands. Yellow 50's are laughing at you. Stupid girl thought we'd fix her problems, they chatter silently to one another.

"Three and half million won," you hold it out to Jungkook. He hesitates, so you force his grip around it and let go. It's his problem, now. Not yours. You smile so warmly that Jungkook can't help but let that feeling in his chest simmer. Your hair is still messy, mascara still smudged. He wants to kiss your cheeks.

Jungkook hasn't disclosed what exactly was in his bag.

But in the same way he knows there are only three types of women in Daerim, you know there are equally only three types of men.

There's only one demographic that he belongs to. Yoongi, too.

You don't say it explicitly, not like he does.

"Holangi are nasty fuckers," you acknowledge. "I know they raise the stakes just for the fun of it. Whatever got stolen, the street value doesn't matter. Take it all. You'll need it."

Take what I owe you.

When he kisses you goodbye, it's just like the first time; all breathy and needy, lips parted and pouting. Again and again, he presses down into your lips. His brows furrow, hands on your cheeks, chest pressed against yours.

The crimson paint that had stained you from his very first kiss returns. You're painted in red for the second time that morning, but this time only you can see it. Only you can feel it.

That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.

But it's funny now, because you know that he does mean it.

When he finally leaves, his nose is blushed, his cupids bow too. Eyes glassy. Smile forlorn.

Disappointingly, as you close the door of your apartment when he's no longer in your line of sight, you remember exactly how Jungkook had kissed you for the first time:

Like it was going to be the last.

And it consumes you, because the kiss you just shared felt exactly the same.

Your chest is uncomfortable again, but it's not rubber bands this time.

It's that stupid red string that Jungkook had tugged too tightly on.

The one that he'd snapped right in half.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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