#JuNGkOoK pOnYTaiL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 7 months

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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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whysojiminimnida · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was reading your “Yeah But Are You SURE IT'S A HICKEY (Part 2)” post and I have a few questions. What do you mean by handle hair? And Jungkook’s hair looks way shorter in the interview, are we sure it’s from the same day? Its totally possible he got a haircut, though. I hope this doesn’t come across as rude. I’m not trying to disprove anything you said, I just want to understand :)

I get this question with some regularity, anon, it's not just you. So, here's a little more about handle hair: what it is, what it's for, and why some bitches think it's hilarious (it's me, I'm some bitches):

There are links upon links in there but I honestly should probably at some point make my own weird little master list about handle hair, hand tats, ring placement, peace signs, shoulder grips and angles of rotation because I seem to be... disorganized. Have fun and let me know if you have questions :)

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namfinessed · 1 month

Text

untitled - j.jk.

genre: angst, fluff (firstlove! slowburn!) (11.5k)

summary: jungkook was your first love but first loves were supposed to end, they were supposed to be a fond memory to look back on but your first love never leaves your life, nor does he stay in it.

note: this is inspired from my first love <3

masterpost

even if years, ages, and places separate you, maybe you’ll love jungkook all over again every time.

you had met him in school, in college, on a different continent but he never stayed in your life for too long, and you hadn’t stayed in his either.

but now that you believe you wouldn’t see him again, only because you were standing next to your soon-to-be-husband, you believe your never-pausing story needed to be told.

and oh, would you look at that? it seems like jungkook has entered the venue to hear it too.

it was the 9th grade when you first met him.

it was simple and so innocent.

you had your new school bag resting behind you, and your shoulders kept knocking against your sisters as the bus drove on the road and abruptly stopped at a place that it never did before; down the lane from your home.

you curiously looked out and heard your bus manager faintly mumbling something about a new student joining the bus.

and there he was, a head full of bouncy hair and a smile that wasn’t exactly present. even as he walked the length of the bus with his head down, he didn’t give off insecurity, it was more like he avoided looking at most people.

he sat down, right behind you, his legs stretching could be seen under your seat and you didn’t look back just yet. you had no idea why.

your sister, sunny, turned around, hand clasping the seat, and eagerly asked, “you’re in B section, aren’t you?” your ears perked up at that, and you subtly leaned in to listen to him.

why you had been curious at all about someone whose face you hadn’t seen, is something that was beyond you but you were consumed inside out with curiosity from the beginning.

he nods at your sister and doesn’t offer another word but when you tilt your head to look back, you see him looking right at you.

that’s when it all began, there were no words at all, just a boy who hadn’t looked at anyone but looked at you as if he could draw you the very next second.

your sister, ever the extrovert, talked to jungkook every day, they laughed and made fun of each other, you smiled at their conversations but never contributed yourself. you listened though, and you listened well.

by week two, you knew how he sounded when he was bored.

you knew how his voice hitched when he was excited.

you knew how his voice would get low whenever he pulled a sarcastic joke on your sister.

jungkook’s eyes would dance to the back of your head, wrapped neatly in a ponytail every single morning, to see if you would turn back, to see if he could catch a glance of those small smiles you let out sometimes but most days, he would just talk loud enough for you to hear about him.

he never understood why he had wanted you to listen, but he couldn’t tell you anything directly, and he wanted to look cool, sound cool, make jokes in a cool way, in a way that would make you laugh and once he got home, he always felt ridiculous for feeling that way.

and then, as if a miracle, your sister didn’t come to school one morning, jungkook could see you alone, ponytail brushed back as always, school bag resting on your thighs, and felt a stabbing need to hear your voice, talking to him.

he settled behind you, legs stretching again and his fingers danced on his thighs as he thought of a way to talk to you, just then your head tilted slightly, as if you were trying to catch a look at him and jungkook felt his smile burn into his skin.

“why did sunny not come today?” you jumped as he fully leaned on the back of your seat, your eyes drifted to his face, “she’s not well.”

those were the first words you had ever spoken to him.

“why is she not well?” was not his best, but he needed to keep it going.

sunny was on her period.

“stomach ache,” you murmured, ignoring how his eyes twinkled with each word that escaped out of you. you hadn’t believed that eyes could twinkle up until that day, but then again you think you’ve never seen jungkook’s eyes twinkle with anyone else.

“she must’ve eaten something bad, didn’t she? she seems the type to be careless like that,” jungkook snickered and your face grew red hot, “what she eats or doesn’t eat, isn’t any of your business.”

your tone, your eyes narrowing sharply to glare at him, was a sight jungkook would get used to later, but for now, he didn’t know how to react.

he was taken aback that you had gotten so serious over a simple joke, then it clicked to jungkook that you were one of those oddly protective people. nothing else could explain your red cheeks and furrowed eyebrows.

and he grew giddy.

you were oddly protective.

a new thing he got to learn about you because he had conjured up the courage to start a conversation.

“my bad,” he shrugs into his seat, and his nonchalant response makes you feel guilty, so you sigh and turn back fully to face him.

that was the first time you saw him straight on, with no sideway glances, no peripheral view of him, just his face and nothing else.

“you have adam sir for physics too, right?”

it was something you picked up from the multiple conversations you overheard.

“um yeah?” he wasn’t sure where you were going with this, “does he come into your class with chalk on suspicious places too?”

you were talking about your dear adam sir who constantly came to class with chalk all over the front and back of his pants crotch area, everyone but adam sir himself knew about his crotch chalk.

and jungkook laughs out loud, “oh my god, yes, i don’t know whether to be horrified or mildly impressed with his lack of self-awareness,” and you laughed too.

when you stopped and looked at him once more, he was already looking at you and the smile on your face didn’t break until you reached home.

it was normal now, you and sunny would turn around, talk to jungkook until you reached school, and then wait for the evening, when you could talk to him until you reached home.

you were quick to anger, he noticed.

you often fought with guys in your grade with a rage that both scared and fascinated jungkook.

you were calm with people you liked, you were fun with people you liked, you were passionate about things you believed in.

you always were a bit frustrated with him, but you still laughed at his jokes.

he was sarcastic, you noticed.

he had no interest in most things.

he didn’t like drama but always knew everything about everyone.

he always looked at you after he made a joke, as if to check if you thought it was funny, if you thought he was funny.

and you would always laugh, he would always feel a seed of pride in him whenever you turned away, hiding your laughing face in your palms.

you knew he liked you; you weren’t oblivious or stupid.

you’re not sure who he told or how it even came out, but suddenly, everyone around you knew about it.

the rumors started a month after you talked to him, you had known him for six weeks which felt like six years, but you didn’t like him back.

he knew that you didn’t like him back.

but that didn’t stop him from trying to look cool to you.

something his friends never let him succeed at.

on children’s day, you were allowed to wear anything besides your uniform, and that was a very exciting thing then, you always wore your best outfits because your mom believed in looking good and feeling good.

you were standing in the middle of the ground, waiting for your friends to come back from getting food when someone tapped swiftly on your shoulder, it was one of jungkook’s friends, smiling at you as if he knew you. you didn’t know the guy; you only knew he was jungkook’s friend.

“hey, could you take a photo for us?” he mused, you almost said no, but then you peeked around him, to see jungkook with his very huge group of friends, he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at everything but you.

it confused you.

his friend’s smile got wider when he noticed you staring at jungkook, you ignored him and took the phone dangling from his hands, you watched as they all got closer and started smiling.

jungkook’s smile was so small, so invisible, so you yelled, “smile everyone!” and you tried not to smile too when his smile took over his entire face until you couldn’t see anything else.

“thanks,” his friend came and took his phone, jungkook left, eyes glancing over his shoulder where you stood, an unavoidable warmth spread through your fingers.

but you didn’t like him.

not the way he liked you.

right?

“he likes you, he told his friends and well, they told my friends, who told me,” sunny rambled beside you, shifting through her closet and you didn’t know what to say, “do you like him?” she turned around to you, eyebrows raised as if she judged you a little if you did, and you shrugged.

“no, how can anyone like him?”

you had people who admired you, liked you even, but very few were honest or brave about it.

so, when the sister of a guy who you thought was only your friend, knocked on the window of your seat, you were confused. she smiled, “this is for you,” she pushed a letter, bracelet, and chocolate into your hands once you opened it, running away before you could ask anything.

you saw your friend peeking from the corner of a bus, watching your reaction to his confession, you looked away and shoved the letter and bracelet into the front pocket of your bag.

jungkook watched the whole exchange silently, a strange jealousy settled in his stomach as he looked out the window to glare at your friend, who sadly only had his eyes on you. then, he watched you and tried to understand what you felt from the back.

it wasn’t easy.

his friend gasped and howled next to him, “she got a letter, bro” he teased jungkook loud enough for you to hear, jungkook waited for you to turn around and tell his friend to shut up and mind his own business.

but you didn’t, you didn’t get angry like you usually did.

you were hyper-focused on the bracelet resting in your bag, and jungkook scoffed at it, he could do better, he won’t, but he could.

“she got a letter and you’re still just sitting here,” his friend tutted at him and jungkook shrugged his friend’s arm around his shoulder, scowling at him.

you rested your head on your window and closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun penetrate you.

when it was just the two of you on the bus, he leaned forward, “he wrote you a letter?”

“yeah, he did.” it was embarrassing to tell jungkook for some reason, it felt like cheating, receiving a letter from someone else when he was right behind you, though none of those feelings held any validity.

“he gave you a bracelet and chocolate? that’s just childish,” he snickered and expected you to laugh with him but you didn’t, “we’re still kids,” you mumbled instead, and jungkook straightened.

“do you like him?”

“no.”

“do you like anyone?”

“no.”

“why?” he stood with his bag in his hands, the bus waiting for him to get down and you didn’t notice his nervous stammer then, you were too confused by the bracelet and chocolate in your bag.

“i just don’t.” he nodded and left.

you kept the letter and bracelet in your school memories box.

somewhere jungkook knew that you knew, but he was always grateful that you acted like you didn’t know.

but it was unbearable for him.

seeing your swaying ponytail every morning, hearing your laughter ring in his ears at times when you weren’t even around him, driving by your house a few fifty times a day to see if you were talking in the balcony sometimes because you did that sometimes, sometimes it felt to jungkook that you did it for him.

sometimes you did it for him, for him to see you.

why?

no one knows.

you and jungkook were friends, only friends.

you and him were friends, but you never talked when others besides sunny were around, your conversations were yours and his, and no one else’s.

you weren’t sure that was how friendships worked, but you thought maybe friendship with jungkook worked this way.

he had your number but he never called, you had his number but you never called.

but one day, right before your final exams started, your phone rang and your heart stopped when you saw his name flash on your screen, you stared at the screen until your phone stopped ringing and didn’t touch your phone until it was night.

you opened it to several messages from jungkook and none of them were about school or the annoying kids on the bus or his annoying friends or your annoying friends.

jungkook: i like you.

jungkook: i think you know that. but i wanted to tell you.

jungkook: i know that you don’t like me, but i like you and i’ve tried to avoid it, but i see you every day, and i can’t avoid you, i can’t avoid how i feel.

jungkook: if you somehow like me, reply to this, if you don’t, don’t. just act as if nothing happened when we see each other tomorrow.

you couldn’t study anymore that night.

the next day, you turned back with sunny and talked to him as if nothing happened, you complained about your syllabus, he laughed that he didn’t even open his books, and sunny bragged that she finished everything and helped him with some important topics.

you ignored the pull in your heart at how openly his affection showed in his eyes now when he looked at you, his sentiment was simple, he had said his bit, and he had nothing to hide anymore but you grew heavy on that seat in front of him, you had everything to hide.

sunny squeezed your hand as you looked out the window.

she knew what happened.

your eyes filled with affection too, gave it away.

why did you never tell jungkook that maybe, just maybe, just a small part of you, a part of you that you wanted to destroy, liked him too?

you never understood why your sentiment cowered under layers whereas his laid naked in the world.

and middle school for you, high school for him, came close to ending by the time you ever confronted your feelings.

it was the last day for middle schoolers, you had a whole event thing in the school and dressed up accordingly, you had gone to school with your dad.

but once the day ended, you got onto the bus with a shirt full of your classmates' signatures and notes, you were a little late and flushed from the sun, you plopped down on your seat and fanned yourself.

sunny pulled the scribbled shirt from your hands, “god, you really filled it up,” you pointed to each signature and note, explaining who it was from, and when a huge note from some guy in the class who liked you came, sunny teased you and jungkook glared at the back of her head.

but a knot of sadness formed in his throat, he wouldn’t see you every day after this, he wouldn’t see you sleep on the bus, he wouldn’t hear the r-rated jokes that you whispered to sunny, thinking that no one could hear, he wouldn’t hear you silently cry after a bad day.

to jungkook, today felt like the end of a lifetime.

then you turned around, with tired eyes and a shy but carefree smile, you extended the shirt to him and said, “write something good, jungkook.” he felt as if he was going to fall off his seat.

his name in your voice was something he would remember for years to come.

he asked for a pen because of course, jungkook didn’t carry a pen in his bag that had one notebook, you scoffed and gave him one and he thought for very long.

i love you, felt wrong to write on a shirt that was littered with other people’s love for you.

and as he read each note, jungkook suddenly felt small, so many people loved you, much better people than him, he couldn’t even write anything as a goodbye to you whereas others wrote whole paragraphs.

he wrote something quickly, under your watchful and expectant gaze, and handed the shirt back with a weak smile.

‘be happy, always. jk’ looked back at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his small handwriting next to everyone else’s. you didn’t notice his dejected posture, nor his distracted gaze out the window.

“really? that’s all?” you said with a teasing smile, extremely amused by his words and he shrugged at you, playing with his hands.

but he felt it when your smile dimmed and you turned around with a silent huff, he felt even smaller as he got down from the bus, craning his neck to see you and your yellow dress, for the last time in the bus that held all his adolescent love.

you didn’t look back at him.

your exams ended, you joined high school in a different part of the city, jungkook joined college in a different part but his home remained down the lane from yours.

you didn’t see him as much anymore, you only saw his car drive by through your window, but he did message you whenever he could, even if you didn’t see each other, you knew every person he knew, he knew every overbearing teacher you hated, you knew every class he skipped and that he started smoking, and he still knew just how to make you laugh to make you forget about the pressures of high school.

and calling him a friend, in the midst of all that, felt wrong, it felt so wrong, you were so alone in your high school, and he was the only tie to your familiar and comfortable past, so you confessed.

it wasn’t anything grand, you knew he liked you back, and you weren’t worried about getting rejected, but still, you held your breath as you typed a message to him.

you: i like you too.

you: it took me too long, didn’t it?

his reply was instantaneous.

jungkook: what.

then, your phone rang loudly, it almost fell from your hands and your mom eyed you suspiciously, you called out a friend's name to appease her and ran off to your room, shutting the door behind you and lifting the call with shaky hands.

“you’re not joking with me, are you?”

“no.”

“so, you like me?” you heard the smile in his voice and let your head fall against the door in a blissed-out sigh.

“i do.”

“really?”

you laughed, “really.”

“really, really?” you couldn’t stop giggling at the barely contained excitement and doubt in his voice, “really, really, jungkook.”

“fuck.” you faintly heard his laugh of disbelief on the other line and stopped yourself from sinking to the floor and talking to him for hours.

“text me, my mom’s awake still,” you mumbled, and he sighed but it was happy, it was out of relief, “yes, ma’am.”

jungkook ended the call with the biggest smile on his face, his back resting on his car, slid down as he tried not to squeal and jump in the air and his friends raised their eyebrows at him.

“what happened to you?”

“she told me she likes me,” he mumbled, the words feeling so much like a lie on his tongue but it was true, it was finally true, and even if he didn’t say the name, his friends knew exactly who it was, “holy shit, really?” they crowded around him and started demanding for details but he brushed them all off.

“i have to go, i have to text her, i can’t do that when i drive, you guys will get back by yourself right?” he didn’t wait for their reply as he got into his car and started the engine, all he heard before pulling away was, “that lucky bastard.”

and he was, he was the luckiest man in the world.

turns out, jungkook was the luckiest man in the world for a few moments only. you were so sweet sometimes that he wanted to wax poetry about you, but he had expected that after your confession, you could date, he could call you his girlfriend, and you would go out to the movies, he would feed you popcorn and your head would rest on his shoulders.

but.

“i just think labels aren’t necessary,” he tried not to frown too deeply as your voice swam into his ears, “what do you mean?” he sat up on his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hands.

“isn’t it enough that we like each other? why do we have to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“but why shouldn’t we?”

“jungkook, i don’t know how i feel about making it so…permanent,” on the other end of his phone, your eyes gathered tears because you didn’t know why you were saying the words you were, but the idea of dating seemed so immature to you, too troublesome and dramatic, you just wanted to like him and have him like you.

“are we not permanent?” he was only so young and so innocent; the words left him with a delicate veil of terror.

why weren’t you thinking of forever? you were his forever, was he not yours?

“how could we be permanent? we’re kids,” your nervous laughter twisted his guts but he didn’t say a word, “do you not think of a future with me?” jungkook felt pathetic asking the questions he did.

“it’s not like that jungkook, i like you, of course, i do but shouldn’t we worry about us here in the present than somewhere in the future?”

it made sense to you because you were already apart, he was in college, you were in high school, he smoked now, you hated that, you grew more cynical, he hated that and later, you would only be further apart, who was to say you would stand the test of time?

but i love you, hung on his lips.

he just mumbled, “okay.” he never was okay with it and his disappointment couldn’t have been louder.

“jungkook, i still like you-“ your mom called out to you and your panic rose to your throat, “my mom’s calling, i’ll text you, okay?” and the line went dead.

jungkook fell back on his bed, his head was now heavy with you, he couldn’t help but notice that you kept saying that you liked him.

you never said that you loved him.

you: our school function is on the 26th, this is our chance.

jungkook: are you telling me i finally get to meet my girlfriend?

you: haha not your girlfriend but yes, you finally get to meet the girl of your dreams.

jungkook: emma stone is coming?

you: very funny jungkook, i’ll block you.

jungkook: now don’t go and do that, what will you wear?

you: you will see that day, what will you wear?

jungkook: you will see that day :D

you: so annoying.

jungkook: only to you :]

you: i’m excited to see you.

jungkook: you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to see you.

at the school, your palms grew clammy as you walked around with your friends, and your dress flowed with you as you walked but you didn’t feel pretty that day. like every other teenager, you had a huge breakout of acne just the night before and you had cried, you didn’t want jungkook to see you like this.

you were sure that he had higher expectations for the girl he liked and while you usually didn’t care about others’ expectations of you, you cared about his.

you knew he was already in the school but you weren’t actively looking for him, you wanted to delay meeting him as much as you could, you didn’t want him to see your face and you didn’t look at your phone.

you let yourself be completely occupied with your friends even if you see him walk by a couple of times from the corner of your eyes. jungkook, on the other hand, just didn’t know how to approach you, he didn’t know if he’d be disturbing your time with your friends or if he’d annoy you by acting too clingy, so he stayed away as well.

sunny observed the whole exchange in bits and pieces and couldn’t believe how ridiculous you two were being. as his friend and your sister, she decided to take things into her own hands.

so, as you laughed and talked to your circle of friends, she pulled on your arm, took you aside, and whispered, “dude, why aren’t you talking to him? he’s been waiting for you.”

“i thought he was with his friends,” you lied, and she sighed, “he hasn’t hung out with them, to make sure he had time with you and i don’t know what is going on with you, but your boyfriend is waiting for you and you need to go.”

“not my boyfriend,” you mumbled as she dragged you around to where he was sitting.

until you saw him, very well-dressed, with shiny shoes, a crisp shirt, and a lopsided grin, none of what you had with him felt real.

but seeing him made it real, it made your love for him take a physical form, you weren’t sure you could handle that sense of reality just yet.

romance, love, affection, all of it was easy through a screen but seeing his finger ridges in real life and wanting to hold them, was hard.

“hey,” he mused, patting the spot next to him and you didn’t sit, you hid your face behind your hair and muttered a greeting, and sunny gagged next to you, “can you please not do this lovey-dovey shit in front of me?”

jungkook was enjoying it though, his girl, not his girlfriend apparently but still his girl, was too shy to see him.

the ever-fierce, angry, witty, and smart girl disappeared and in front of him, was just a girl in love. and even if you never said it, he felt it in the moment.

“okay, i’ll go now,” sunny said, but you grabbed her arm, “stay,” you whispered to her and she geared up to start cursing at you only for jungkook to say, “stay, it’s fine.”

he realized that if sunny was around, you would at least say a few things, because right now, he couldn’t see anything but your hair.

so, sunny stayed.

and they talked, you chimed in, it felt like the first day of talking to him on the bus. jungkook observed that you were a bit more grown up now, a bit taller, only a bit though and a bit softer than when you were in school, and just like he loved the loud, rude, and angry girl, he loved the soft, shy, still angry girl, that he was looking at.

you thought he was looking at you because you looked different, uglier, and that he was contemplating just letting you go.

but that night, when you returned home and texted him, you felt like the prettiest girl in the world.

you: so emma stone didn’t come, how do you feel?

jungkook: heartbroken but another girl made it up to me.

you: oh yeah, how was that?

jungkook: it was like i was seeing her for the first time again.

you: and?

jungkook: she’s more beautiful than i remember her being.

you: jungkook, i had pimples all over, you don’t have to lie to me.

jungkook: you don’t know yourself at all if you think some pimples take away from how beautiful you are.

you: you think so?

jungkook: i spent an hour looking at you, walking here and there in the school, so i’m confident about it.

you: i felt ugly today.

jungkook: that happens sometimes.

you: i don’t feel it anymore.

jungkook: you never should.

it was five days after the function, on new years, january 1st, that you two broke up.

things had been going so well but suddenly, they weren’t.

after the magical night at your school, he hung out with his friends a lot, and he started drinking, you were still too young for all that, and you were dying in your high school with never-ending exams and classes. both of you had forgotten about each other while also thinking of each other every second you could.

you were supposed to meet him on january 1st, in a café that he was raving about called the terrace, you had planned a whole thing so your parents wouldn’t get suspicious, you would go with your sisters to the café and come back with them, but spend all the time there with him.

it wasn’t easy to go behind your parents' back, it always felt like you were betraying them whenever you talked to jungkook but you were also in love, and your parents took a back seat for you on that day.

you waited in the café, and your sisters constantly asked where he was and when he was coming, you told them he would come in a minute or two, which stretched on for hours and the night ended with your sisters giving you pitiful gazes and long, silent hugs.

you came back home with an anger so familiar, so out of your control that you couldn’t see or say anything else.

“where were you?”

“i got drinks with my friends, i was going to leave i promise-“ and you cut the call, you watched your phone ring again and again until it went dead silent.

jungkook: please talk to me.

you: you know how difficult it is for me to come out with my parents watching my every move, you know how much i planned for this night and i did it because you kept blaming me for never going on dates.

jungkook: typing….

you: and when i do plan for a date, you end up going somewhere else?

jungkook: you think i don’t have a life of my own?

you blinked back tears that your anger let escape from your eyes, that was the first time you felt your chest physically hurt.

you: i never said that, jungkook.

jungkook: you know it’s funny because if you weren’t such a coward, maybe i wouldn’t have to beg you to meet me, maybe we would’ve already gone on dates, and today, i could enjoy with my friends the way i want to. you don’t even let me call you, my girlfriend.

you: don’t you dare call me a coward, my parents aren’t easy to deal with.

jungkook: saying that just makes you sound like even more of a coward.

you: if i’m such a coward, maybe you shouldn’t be with me anymore.

jungkook: maybe i shouldn’t, yeah.

you threw your phone aside, you wanted him to say i’m sorry, i fucked up, let me plan the next one, but instead, he was indifferent, as if nothing mattered to him anymore, as if you didn’t matter to him anymore.

you couldn’t picture this man as the same man who looked at you with stars in his eyes and a scary thought passed through your mind, he was madly in love with you only five days ago, and now, he wasn’t.

people could change, and then hurt you, so you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t let anyone have the power to hurt you anymore.

you: so, we’re done?

jungkook: yeah.

you: please don’t smoke anymore.

jungkook: what i do is none of your business anymore.

and that was that.

you blocked him everywhere and he wallowed in his self-pity for days, you didn’t know how he was, which new people he met, if he smoked two or three cigarettes in a day anymore and he didn’t know about anything going on in your class, or about the new biology subject they introduced or about your friend's antics.

it was like he was never there in your life in the first place.

right after the breakup, you didn’t cry, you didn’t feel anything, you went to high school normally the next day and smiled while telling your friends, “i’m finally single!”

they looked concerned, then they laughed at your indifference to the breakup but your best friend leaned and asked, “are you okay?” and you nodded happily, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”

but jungkook sadly wasn’t just a guy, he was your first love, your first ever brush with romance.

so, a month passed and you called your best friend.

sitting at the edge of your bed, you told her everything you knew about jungkook, you laughed at how stupid he could be sometimes, and you cursed him out for doing what he did but then, you started crying and you couldn’t stop crying, “i miss him, i miss my friend.”

she listened as you felt your heart finally tear apart inside you.

you knew you couldn’t trust anyone or love anyone again.

this time, it felt like a lifetime ended for you.

two years passed and you didn’t think of him anymore, you weren’t sure if he thought of you, you would only be reminded of his existence when exes and relationships came up in conversations with friends, those always ended with you bitterly cursing him.

you hated him.

the guy who showed you how love felt, was the guy you hated most now.

you moved cities, a better, bigger city and you tried to fall in love again, you did try.

you went on dates with your newly found freedom, you tried to like them and their stories, but the only stories that held any value to you from your youth were with or about jungkook. because you felt every face of your youth, with him.

and you couldn’t possibly talk about your first love with guys whose faces bled into each other until they all became one, and jungkook remained another.

but still, you rarely thought of him.

you didn’t think of him when you went on your first date ever (technically, you never went on a date with jungkook), you didn’t think of him when you called that guy every single night and told him superficial things about you, you never told him things that mattered, you had your first kiss and ended your first ever situationship.

but you weren’t hurt at all. you never gave another person the power to hurt you because you felt it once, and you had no intention to feel it again.

and after months of living in another city, you went back home for a while and your best friend insisted on going to the same café where you were supposed to meet jungkook, on the day of your breakup. it wasn’t her fault that it was the only good café in your tiny city.

you went.

you talked and laughed with your friend.

your phone pinged.

jungkook: you’re at the terrace?

perhaps, you forgot to mention that you unblocked him a while ago, it wasn’t to talk to him of course, it was just to remove negativity from your life (you wanted to feel that young love again).

you: yeah.

jungkook: wait.

you turned to your best friend with wide eyes, telling her that there was a huge possibility that jungkook was coming and she grimaced, she never liked him.

then, he strolled in, hands in pockets, and gave you this smile that covered years of doubt, you always thought he would glare at you and hate you but he just walked in, waved at you, and sat down without saying another word.

seeing him this up close after years of watching him from the corner of your eyes and the tilt of your head, filled you with a breathless excitement because he didn’t change, he didn’t change at all.

“hello, it’s been long,” he greeted you, and then the both of you broke into giggles at his formal tone, “it has been long, yeah.” you replied with a nod, begging for your eyes to hide their reviving affection.

then, you talked.

you had years to catch up on so you told him everything, you told him about your college, your still-horrible teachers, your friends, the new places you’ve explored, and how different everything was in the city you studied.

he listened with a carefulness that you never thought he possessed.

a simple but reckless thought caught you by the throat as jungkook leaned forward and laughed at something you said.

is this how it feels to make someone laugh?

is this how a date with him then would’ve been?

did i just miss out on everything good in life?

then, he told you everything and you listened.

jungkook stuttered multiple times because he had truly forgotten how his body got when you were around, he was suddenly aware of his every nerve, and he was aware of his fingertips that were centimeters apart from you, he was aware of your legs that were right next to his under the table and he was aware of you refusing to look at anyone but him as he spoke.

not even once did either of you acknowledge january 1st from two years ago.

“it’s 6 right now,” your best friend reminded you and you gasped, “already? shit, we have to go,” jungkook’s disappointment fell like water over his head and flooded his shoulders.

“where do you have to go?” he asked, as casually as he could.

“we have to meet another friend, a little bit far from here, so we’ve got to get going,” you said, and jungkook nodded, his car keys twirled in his hands, “do you mind dropping us?”

he almost jumped out of his seat to say yes, but remembered himself and nodded once again, “not a problem at all.”

all three of you were silent as you walked to his car which turned out to be a jeep of sorts, no surprises there and your friend got in the back, you got in the front and buckled your seat belt, your chest compressed a bit more as you tried to wave all of this as something friends did.

you were friends with him, in some way.

he got in as well and you felt twitchy in your seat, your eyes took in the unfamiliar car and jungkook watched as you saw another new thing in his life with boundless curiosity.

“you vape now?” you saw the three vapes thrown in the middle of the seat and he shrugged, “sometimes, you wanna try?” you shook your head, both as a reply to him and to shake away the odd memory of january 1st, when you had begged him to stop smoking.

“do you still smoke?”

“yep.”

you didn’t say anything as your heart sank.

he handed you his phone, as if it wasn’t something that contained everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets, he told you his passcode and let you choose whatever song you liked.

and as you scrolled through his song library, you found many songs that you had recommended to him years ago, “you still listen to these?”

jungkook tensed up, clearing his throat, he answered, “sometimes.”

you didn’t probe any further.

you didn’t play the songs you recommended either, things were weird already.

on the way, jungkook talked to your friend and then you, you talked to him, played all the songs you liked and at every stop sign, you ignored jungkook looking at you with a smile and soft eyes, as you turned to talk to your friend.

when you got down, you had a brief, disgusting thought of asking him to drive you around and just staying in his car to find out everything you missed in two years.

but you didn’t, you got down, you thanked him, he tipped his invisible hat at you and smiled, and you looked away, waving at him.

“not a word from you,” you told your smirking friend as you walked away from his car.

the rest of the night, you dreamed as your friends talked and got loud, you sighed as if you had someone to miss, you checked your phone constantly for any messages from him and sighed again when you didn’t get any.

but at midnight, your phone pinged.

jungkook: never thought i’d see you in my car lol.

you: never thought i’d be in your car.

jungkook: well, i’m always there if you need me.

jungkook: for a ride, i mean.

you: i’m always there too.

you: to give you company in your big, lonely car, i mean.

jungkook: is that so?

you: yeah, good night jungkook.

jungkook: god, good night.

both of you fell asleep with hope brimming in your dreams that night.

so, it started again, you texted every day, you told him everything you did in a day and he did the same for you, he still had this incredible ability to make you laugh when you felt down and you still fascinated him to no bounds.

and days bled into each other, you returned to the city where you studied, feeling a bit more homesick than you had before.

you got to know that he had failed some subjects in class, “how many?” you whispered as if it was a secret that no one should know, you couldn’t imagine failing, and he laughed, “it’s only five, you don’t have to ask like that,” but five failed subjects would’ve given you a heart attack.

he got to know that you started research with your professor, “will i understand even if you tell me what it is?” and you laughed, “i don’t think so,” he would later console you when the professor steals your work, “he sounded like a dick anyway, you deserve a much better mentor,” he pursed his lips when he heard you sniff on the other end, “do you think so?” and he couldn’t believe how little faith you had in yourself, “of course, i do.”

you started talking at night too, and those conversations, well, you never thought you would think of them again because they were so raw and so true and they reminded you of things that you thought you had forgotten.

through a phone, you both laid your hearts bare.

“have you been with anyone after…” his voice was rougher than you remembered, as if age and life had worn it down but both of you were still so young.

you weren’t as young as you once were though.

“yeah, one guy. and you?” you twisted the necklace resting on your collarbones as you asked him slowly, you didn’t want to know but you also wanted to know.

“a couple of people, yeah.”

“oh.” your disappointment was only felt by the four walls holding you in your room.

“none of them worked out though…none of them felt real,” jungkook bounced the smiley face foam ball in his hand as he stared up at the wall.

you didn’t know if he said that to console you or if it was just how things went.

“why not?”

“well, it all got so physical, there was no love or affection, i mean i didn’t feel it at all,” and you sucked in a breath, trying not to let jealousy coat your tongue when you spoke, “physical, huh.”

“don’t say it like that,” he laughed, sitting up on his bed, “these days, that’s how it goes, it shouldn’t but yeah, i guess sex just takes a front seat in relationships now.”

you didn’t want to talk about sex with jungkook, you didn’t want to know who he did it with.

“maybe.” you answered dismissively and he laughed again, “ey why are you being so awkward about it? it’s a natural thing,” and you groaned in embarrassment, “can we change the subject?”

“of course,” you sighed out in relief, “tell me, have you done anything at all?” you wanted to hit him through the phone and you let him know that, “i’m going to hit you, i swear to god, jungkook.”

“you gotta catch a flight for that now, so” he whistled into the phone and you didn’t fight the smile growing on your face, there were no witnesses except the darkness in your room, you were free to do whatever.

“i’ve only had my first kiss,” and jungkook regretted asking the question.

he had always thought he would be your first kiss.

“oh yeah?” he asked, no longer interested in knowing but for you, because it was already out, you wanted to share more with him, as a friend, so you kept going, “yeah, it was in a car,” your first kiss wasn’t bad, honestly it was everything anyone would want in a first kiss.

after saying that, you realized how dirty kissing in a car sounded, so you gasped and corrected, “but it was just a kiss, nothing else happened.”

jungkook shook his head, smiling into his phone, you still sounded so young, so much like the girl he fell in love with, “you don’t have to explain anything to me or anyone, you know that right?”

“right.” you breathed out, scolding yourself for overreacting.

“but, you know,” he said, in a softer tone, as if his next words contained magic, “yeah?” you whispered, your fingers now clutching your locket with all your strength.

“i love what we had,” and your breath hitched, your eyes filled with tears, and your adolescence that loved him reared its head again, “our love was so pure.” he continued, sighing into the phone as he turned over in his bed.

he never loved anyone the way he loved you, he didn’t even know he was capable of so much love until he met you and jungkook gave up on feeling it all again.

he waited for your reply with bated breath, not knowing if he went too far.

“it was.”

he smiled again; his heart filled with something that he tried to push away.

“don’t you have class tomorrow?” he asked, glancing at the clock that shined bright with 3:34, and you yawned, “it’s fine, keep talking.”

jungkook bit his lip to stop himself from squealing in happiness, you wanted to stay awake just to talk to him, “still, we have tomorrow, we can talk later, you go and get some sleep.”

and there was silence for a few seconds before another yawn came from you, “you know what, you’re right but we’ll talk later,” you said, a bit dazed from how sleepy you were.

“i’m always right,” he snickered and you scoffed, “whatever, good night, jungkook.”

“good night.”

you couldn’t stop thinking of his voice saying that your love was pure even when you dozed off and he clutched his phone to his heart, he could only wait for tomorrow to come sooner.

it was nice, not knowing exactly what you guys were or acknowledging your past, it was nice to pretend that you had never hurt each other in the first place. and many days passed by with both of you together, but not together.

“what did you do today?” you hummed into the phone as you fell onto your bed, you heard shuffling on the other side, and then noises, “uh i’m out right now,” his voice came in gargled and broken.

“oh, okay.” somehow, even if you tried to not think of it, you thought of how he never showed up to what would have been your first-ever date because he was out.

“i’ll call you later, is that alright?” he sounded like he was screaming over the sound and you couldn’t help but feel dejected, even if you had no right to feel that way now, “yeah, sure. have fun, good night.” you tried your best to sound perky and the call ended.

what were you even doing?

how did you think that talking to your ex would go or end well?

and why were you even still talking to the guy who broke your trust in people?

you rolled around on your bed, not being able to fall asleep, and not wanting to stay awake either, eventually, you gave up and read a book until you dozed off.

when you woke up the next day, there were no texts or calls from jungkook the way he’d promised he would. you threw your phone aside and got ready for the day.

then you woke up the day after, still nothing from him. and the day after, the day after that, and many days which you spent frustrated and alone.

you should’ve known how it would end with him.

jungkook: hellooo (4:40 pm).

you: hey (8:30 pm).

jungkook: busy day? (9:00 pm)

you: pretty hectic, yeah. (10:30 pm)

jungkook: call? (11:04 pm)

you: i’m pretty tired, another day? (11:10 pm)

jungkook: tomorrow? (11:24 pm)

you: another day. (11:37 pm)

jungkook: okay, good night. (11:45 pm)

you: good night. (12: 20 am)

jungkook: typing…

he threw his phone away.

you weren’t sure exactly how it happened but soon, there were no messages or calls from jungkook, you heard from sunny that he shifted from the home down your lane but you didn’t bother texting or calling him either, you held your head high during the day and missed his voice in the night.

after a couple of weeks of minimal communication, you returned home with a nervous smile on your face, you hoped no one in your house noticed how often you checked your phone or how you sometimes talked to yourself in the darkness of your room.

you went back to the same café, again it was no one’s fault that there wasn’t a better café in your city, you sat across your best friend, sipping on your hot chocolate and nodding to whatever she said, trying not to avert your gaze to your surroundings.

you’re sure you saw jungkook outside, but you’re not sure if he saw you and a nervous pit sat in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

why did meeting him feel like the first time every single time?

you shook your head, leaning in to hear your best friend until she got up to use the restroom, you leaned back on your chair and let out a sigh.

you couldn’t even enjoy some good brunch without thinking of his ridiculous face.

then, the door opens and you pay no mind to it, you scroll through your phone, liking and watching reels and then someone sits next to you, and your eyes immediately snap up to tell them to fuck off.

but then your eyes melt.

“hey,” jungkook smiles, one of his cheeks pressed against his fist that propped him up and you almost smile back, you almost forget everything again.

the calls he never made, the texts he never sent, how he acted suddenly too busy for you, the invisible rejection, you were ready to forget it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be okay with that.

“is it easy for you?” he sits up, his smile wavers a bit, “what do you mean?”

“is it easy for you to act like nothing happened? like we never fought and broke up?” you didn’t recognize your voice; it came out so stern but you felt so weak.

“but nothing happened, sure we broke up, but that’s a normal thing, everyone goes through breakups and ends up as friends.”

“are we friends?”

he does not answer, he looks away instead at the painting of a dog on the wall.

and your anger almost runs you over.

“jungkook, are we friends?”

“…yeah.” he hesitates, jungkook feels his heart in his throat as you stare at him with so much disappointment and so much hurt, he never knew that you cared about the breakup, he had always thought that you would’ve moved on very quickly but the tears flashing in your eyes proved him wrong.

he didn’t know what to do with the fact that you were hurt during the breakup, he only pitied himself and thought of himself but he never stopped to think that maybe you had enough love for him, to feel hurt too.

“as my friend, i need to tell you something then,” you gathered your courage, you were going back tomorrow so you wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of it.

“go on,” he bit his lips and tapped his fingers on the table, and your friend walked back in, she raised her eyebrows at his figure sitting next to you and then looked at you with both concern and a thousand questions.

you stared at her with pursed lips and she nodded, grabbing her earphones, putting them on, and sitting across from you, head and eyes turned away from your conversation.

“i think i started liking you again,” you still liked him, “somewhere in the middle, i got a bit confused and my feelings grew again.” you watched his reaction with careful eyes, he only looked back at you with blinking eyes.

“but i don’t like you,” came his reply, and you sucked in a breath, heartbreak fresh as ever settled in your chest.

then, why did you call me at night and tell me our love was pure?

“i know, that’s why i said it in the past tense, i don’t feel that way anymore,” but you did, you just couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“well then, that’s good, right? we can go back to being normal.” he clapped his hands with a joyous smile that made you want to rip his head off, “no, i don’t think i can do this anymore.”

his hands fell and so did his smile, his ego returned and put a scowl on his face.

“can you make a decision here?” he thought back to all the times you corrected him when he called you his girlfriend and his annoyance grew above his head.

“i am making a decision here, don’t get snappy with me” you spat back at him, your mind flooded with every time he led you on and hurt you, “i can’t do this confusing shit with you anymore, i don’t think we can ever be friends and i don’t see a point in trying to force it.” you huffed out, falling back on your seat.

“so, we just never talk again?” he mumbled, you couldn’t read his face anymore.

“i guess so, yeah,” another lifetime of yours flashed before your eyes as he nodded, pushing the salt and pepper shakers on the table, and then he got up abruptly.

please don’t run, please make me stay this one time, you tried to beg without saying a single word.

“then, let’s do that,” jungkook nodded at you again, he nodded at your friend and left the chair as it was before he ever came.

once again, it felt like he never existed in your life before this.

“are you okay?” your best friend’s earphones were now neatly folded on the table, and you nodded furiously, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”

years passed again.

he cleared his subjects from what you’ve heard, you were done with your degree, on time unlike him, from what he’s heard and jungkook was on another step of his life again.

he stared at the unfamiliar faces in his class with resignation and sighed to himself, jungkook kept lifting and dropping his phone at every notification and groaning every time he saw it was from his life insurance, his one message remained unread.

jungkook: i start my master's today. (5:00 am)

he stared at the message until his eyes grew blurry, it was noon now and you hadn't seen it, intentionally of course, and just when he put it down one more time, he heard a ping.

you: good luck. (11:45 am)

he stared at it until he grew annoyed and deleted the entire chat.

you were going to america to study, it had taken a lot out of you in preparation for it and after hugging your parents and family goodbye and crying for hours in the airport, you pulled out your phone and nervously hovered over his profile. you started typing with dried-up tear streaks on your face.

you: i’m going to america today.

jungkook: really?

jungkook felt uneasy about the sudden large distance between you two even if you hadn’t spoken in ages.

jungkook: all the best.

jungkook: be happy, always.

you bit your lip as you looked away with a quivering chin and tears lined your eyes again, you deleted the entire chat too.

a year into being on a new continent, you felt all kinds of homesickness and excitement for your new home still, you worked harder than you ever had. and as bad as it sounds, you had forgotten that you once knew a boy called jungkook or that you ever loved him with your entire being.

he had become a thing of the past, something you never talked about anymore even if your friends brought up exes and relationships, he became a ghost of sorts, and only you could see him now.

you didn’t know what he was up to, if he ever finished his masters or racked up backlogs there too and you didn’t bother yourself by thinking about it too much.

but when it came to jungkook, you didn’t have to think about him to come into your life, he just came and went whenever he wanted.

nothing else could explain why you would find him, of all people in the world, under the neon lights of a house party that you were at, on a different continent.

and you didn’t feel anything, not any residual love or even the desire to be near him, you just felt wary about seeing him again.

he also saw you and gave a nervous smile. you smiled back and disappeared into the balcony.

suddenly, your wariness grew into pain, and your pain grew into a longing that you shouldn’t feel anymore.

you slid down on the wall and brought your knees up to hug them as you laid your head on your thighs and breathed, just breathed.

the balcony door opened again.

you knew who it was. maybe you had hoped that this would happen too, but for now, you didn’t look at him.

you heard his groan as he sat down beside you, his hands and knees almost touching yours.

and that’s when you realize, in all the years you’ve known him, this was the closest he ever came to you.

was this why he had called your love pure then?

because you had never touched each other, but felt each other in every corner of your existence?

“what are you doing here?” you whispered into your legs but he still heard you, “vacation, didn’t think i’d see you here.”

“i didn’t think either.”

“kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” he laughed with emotion you couldn’t decipher, his warmth bled into you as you leaned on him a bit.

you felt the shape of a cigarette box in his pockets but swallowed your hurt.

after years, maybe you just wanted to touch him and see what it’s like. and he didn’t question your knees knocking against his.

“that we keep running into each other? i’m starting to think you stalk me,” you teased, a small weight of your longing lifted off you.

“oh please, if anything, you are stalking me,” he teased right back, feeling himself ease into this situation with you, just like every other time.

but as nice as it was to be this comfortable, you were still so consumed with questions that haunted you. and there was no one else here, no best friends, no sisters, no parents to worry about, no one but you and him.

“why didn’t you admit that you liked me back then?” you lifted your head to stare at him, there was no malice in your question nor any accusation, just curiosity.

“so, you knew?” he cleared his throat with a sheepish smile on his face, jungkook’s eyes shined the same way they had when you were in that bus, all those years ago.

“you told me our love was pure at 3 am, it wasn’t too hard to understand,” you shrugged, as if saying it out loud didn’t take your entire heart out of your chest.

he shook his head while laughing softly, “always such a smartass,” and you smiled, “you’re just too dumb.”

that’s when he really laughed and the stars of the night came together to light his face up as he threw his head back, you stopped yourself from falling in love again.

“well,” he breathed out, jungkook’s face contorted to become more serious and you knew that whatever he said next took a lot for him too.

“you always felt too big for my love, as if i could give you everything and that still wouldn’t be enough.”

your eyes dropped at their corners.

“what?”

“i don’t know, you were always so passionate, so good to others, so fucking smart and you had your shit figured out, you always told me these things that sounded so magical but i never fully understood them. i knew i couldn’t ever match up to that, even if i loved you with all of me,” he whispered, he clenched his eyes shut to avoid looking at you as he spoke, “i knew that even if i loved you, i couldn’t love you the way someone else could, someone who could love and match up to you.”

“jungkook,” you whispered too but your voice broke, and your throat grew scratchy with emotion.

“i’m telling the truth by the way, when you said you were leaving for america, it took everything in me to not pack a bag and follow you,” then, he opened his eyes and looked at you, you felt like you were back in 9th grade, staring at him with a tilt of your head.

“why did you say you stopped liking me then?” he asked next and waited patiently for you to wipe the corners of your eyes.

“i was always afraid that somewhere i would disappoint you and the idea of our relationship. you liked me so much and i felt that i had to live up to what you liked, otherwise, you wouldn’t like me and i’d be alone again,” you whispered the last part slower than anything else, “that wasn’t your fault though, i guess i was just scared of not being who i thought we would be.”

you sniffed and stared at your feet that lined up with his.

he stayed silent beside you until your sniffs grew louder.

then, he pulled your head over his shoulder and let you cry until the sunrise came and took away everything that the night tried to protect.

you woke up in an empty bed the next morning and when you left, you saw jungkook sitting on the couch, long arms stretching over the back of it, you stopped for a second to see if he’d get up and wrap them around you, to acknowledge all the love he showed you last night, you waited for him to utter a word that would make you stay.

but he only blinks at you.

you run out the door, you don’t know if his voice calling to you was him, or a creation of your deepest, most shameful wishes.

several years passed once more.

you don’t know why you invited jungkook to your wedding, you didn’t know if he would even come, but seeing him enter through the same doors that your now-husband had, pierced you with something sharp. he came up the stage, his eyes never left your face, and stood next to you for a photograph.

you didn’t look to see if he smiled or not. his hands hovered over your waist and your breath got caught in your throat, jungkook handed your husband a bouquet with a polite smile, he looked older, and quieter but his eyes remained shiny as ever.

when he started to pull apart and leave, you grabbed his arm, “stay for dinner, okay?” and he nodded, giving you a playful salute and exiting the stage.

you smiled at your husband and continued to take photos.

at dinner, you and your husband sat next to him as polite hosts would and talked about superficial things; jobs, taxes, work-life balance, and life.

“i think i’ll leave now,” he got up from his seat and you got up too, “i’ll see him off and come back,” you squeezed your husband’s hands which jungkook looked away from.

outside, it was just the two of you again.

“do you love him?” you weren’t shocked at his question.

“i do.” you really do.

“but you never loved me, did you?” he laughed bitterly, but his face held years of hurt and you held back your tears.

“i did.” you really did.

jungkook had been waiting to hear those words for half of his life and now that he’s heard them, he thinks he can let you go now.

“it was not easy for me to invite you.” you admitted with a nervous laugh, your eyes darting down to the gravel road.

“it isn't easy for me to be here,” he loosened his tie around his neck and his voice now reminded you of how old your first love got and how far away you were from the bus where you fell in love.

“but god, after so long,” your voice held every bit of yearning and nostalgia you felt.

a montage of your very young, very long, and very stupid love played in your eyes and you blinked it away.

“it sucks that we didn't work out.” it didn’t just suck, if jungkook told you how he really felt about seeing you with your husband, you would slap him.

he could do better, he won’t but he could.

“maybe we were just supposed to love each other then, you know? maybe it wasn't supposed to grow at all,” you answered, even if you knew it wasn’t entirely the truth, your love growing was out of your control.

but maybe you two weren’t ever supposed to love each other so much, maybe you were supposed to love each other a little and then let it go but both of you had been stubborn, both of you clung onto the innocence of your love, something that you paid the price for, for years.

“i dont know about all that, i just know that our love was-“

“pure.” you told and jungkook smiled, shaking his head, “yes, pure.”

“i still don't know why i loved you so much,” jungkook wondered why it had started, the deep infatuation and affection he held for you, was unnatural.

“i don't either,” you never understood why your lives were entangled for so long.

“will i see you again?” there was no hope in his tone, only a simple question with a simple affection.

“no, i think this is a good ending point, don't you?”

“so i don't get to show off my wife like you showed off your husband?”

“well in that case, maybe we will.” though, you burned on the inside as you imagined another person standing next to him.

“right, maybe we will.”

a silent smile passed between you two and when jungkook left, he squeezed your hands, “thank you for letting me feel love so early in my life. i wish you and your husband well.”

“thank you for loving me so early in my life. i wish you and your future wife well.”

he walked away but he looked back.

please don’t stay with him for too long.

you gave a weak smile.

please don’t find someone else.

and then you separated, another lifetime ended but this time, for the both of you.

930 notes · View notes

dgtn · 1 year

Text

Ok so you probably knew this was coming…..

Just like JK with his ponytail …

Jimin with a ponytail…🔥🔥🔥

And the 2 of them together …

Have a great weekend … 😍😍😍

💛💜🌈

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #kookmin #minkook #ponytails look good on them

142 notes · View notes

joonsmagicshop · 5 months

Text

Wait, You're a Virgin?

Summary: Jungkook gets teased at a college party for being a virgin and asks you to help him out

Paring: Virgin Jungkook/Reader (Jimin and Tae for the plot)

Word Count: 8.8k

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: porn with plot, virgin Jungkook, first time, fluff, smut, handjobs, blow jobs, eating pussy, fingering, fucking, college drinking, College AU

Authors Note: This all started because of the duality of Jeon Jungkook because how can one man be so small and cute but sexy at the same time????? Also please know if you are a virgin in college there is nothing wrong with you and it is totally A-ok. Everyone is on a different timeline when it's meant to happen it will happen

The library was your sanctuary and safe space.

A place where you could listen to the quiet hum of the heater and hear the soft sounds of pencils scratching against paper while you focused on the mountain of homework you had to complete.

You would not be hearing the sounds of rough sex in the library

Which was exactly what brought you here tonight.

Your roommate and her boyfriend had decided to have sex…again…for the third time today and this time, they were not being quiet about it.

You felt gross listening in, but even your headphones couldn't block out the noise of his grunts and moans so you hastily grabbed your stuff and threw it into a tote bag before getting out of there as quickly as possible and making your way to the library.

It was a Friday night and the library was busier than usual. You knew most college students were in the same boat as you. November was fast approaching and assignments and final exams loomed over most of the students as they all crammed to remember what they had learned.

You were planning on studying tonight anyway so you took your usual spot at the small wooden desk by the window and got settled in.

Textbooks were spread out everywhere and you started up your laptop as you pulled your hair back into a ponytail. You hummed quietly to yourself as you pulled your sweater off your body.

Right as you were about to start studying your phone vibrated loudly against the desk. Multiple people glared at you as you ducked your head and apologized, quickly turning your phone to silent and checking to see who was texting you.

You tried to stifle your giggles as you pictured Taehyung's horrified face as he stood by the door hearing your roommate going at it.

You grinned as you could imagine the blush that was covering Taehyung's cheeks. He had been harboring a massive, mega crush on Park Jimin since the start of the year. He had accidentally turned a corner too quickly on campus and bumped right into him. Jimin was polite and kept apologizing over Taehyung's apologizes and they both had a good laugh out of it

A week later he was claiming it was fate and Jimin and him were meant to be.

Tae had started to drag you to parties he knew Jimin would be attending. Most of the time choosing to stare at him from across the room before actually going over to talk to him. As the weeks dragged on Tae had become a lot more comfortable and got to know Jimin and his friends, easing himself into their group effortlessly.

You slipped your phone into your jacket pocket and smiled.

You slipped your headphones on and turned on some random background music track as you got to work. Every once in a while taking breaks to stretch or drink water, sometimes just staring out the window at the cars that would drive by. The sun had set hours ago and you checked your phone to see you had already been working for almost two hours.

Just as you were about to pack up, your phone screen flashed, signaling someone was calling you.

“Hello?” You said quietly packing up your stuff and trying to keep your voice low.

“Y/N. Need you to come to this party. Now.” Tae demanded with an air of urgency.

“Tae I said I wanted to get some work done…remember? Besides aren't you with your man?” You teased as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and exited the library, opting to sit on one of the comfy couches that were just outside the library.

“I'm trying to be with my man but I need you here. Right now. He's been man-napped and I need your help.” Tae said, clearly upset.

“Man-napped? What does that even mean?” You ask trying to hold back your snickers.

“It means someone has been all over him all night and I can't get him alone. I need you here as a distraction. Now.” Taehyung explained. You shook your head. Taehyung was always known for being slightly dramatic.

“Who's all over him anyway?” You respond as you lean back against the couch and close your eyes.

“Jeon Jungkook.” Tae grits out and you want to laugh

You really do

“Jeon Jungkook? Seriously?” You deadpan

Jeon Jungkook was very shy and quiet. He had been to multiple parties but you had hardly said two words to him. He had dark hair and big doe eyes that made him seem a lot younger. He mostly hung out with Kim Namjoon who could make friends with almost anybody.

“Yes. Jungkook. But he's…different.” Tae explained as you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Tae. Please. I need more information before I drop everything and show up to Jimin's” You explain to him rubbing a hand down your face.

“Oh. We're not at Jimin's were at Liza's, her parents….it doesn't matter. What matters is Jungkook is stealing my man Y/N.” Taehyung all but whines.

“Jungkook? Like the Jungkook that doesn't leave Namjoon's side?” You prod for more information failing to hide the disbelief in your voice.

“He's… okay well did you know he has a full sleeve of tattoos? Did you know that under all those baggy clothes he's fit as fuck? He's man-napping Jimin. I need you to come and distract him.” Taehyung finally explains as you sit up a little straighter.

Because no.

You didn't know any of that about Jungkook.

It seemed hard to picture him like that but you combed through your memory trying to figure out if you ever saw him in a short-sleeved shirt.

“1950 Maple Road. Text me when you're here.” Taehyung said before the phone line went dead.

You stared at your phone in disbelief as you called a taxi to take you there

“This is ridiculous,” You told yourself as you got in the taxi

“Jungkook is nothing to worry about.” You reminded yourself as you paid the driver and set off towards the house, texting Taehyung on the way.

“Tae is being dramatic.” You muttered under your breath as he met you at the front door.

You quickly dropped your bag and took off your shoes as you looked around.

The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out conversation as Taehyung dragged you around the house. You saw some people you recognized from class and sent them small waves as you were brought from room to room before you settled in the kitchen.

“See!” Tae exclaimed as he not so subtly pointed towards the massive living room where Jimin and Jungkook were sitting on a couch together, Namjoon sitting on the floor, his long legs sprawled out.

Your jaw dropped.

It was Jungkook but not how you remembered him.

He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and his tattoos were on full display. His legs were spread wide and his knee was bumping into Jimin's. His hands were around a red solo cup and he took a sip and scanned the crowd.

“Told you.” Taehyung hissed in your ear as he pulled you towards the couch before you could even process what you were seeing.

“Hey Y/N made it!” Tae announced as Jimin and Namjoon smiled and greeted you. Jungkook gave you a quick glance then turned to look around at the party. Clearly, he was still shy under this tough guy persona.

Taehyung chose to sit on the armrest of the couch next to Jimin so you had no choice but to sit on the armrest on the other side of the couch, next to Jungkook.

You weren't really paying attention to the conversation around you, it was about a video game you knew nothing about. Instead you tried to formulate a plan to get Jungkook alone. As his knee kept bumping Jimin's and Tae kept shooting you worried looks.

“I didn't know you had tattoos Jungkook?” You said nudging him to get his attention.

He looked up at you, his big dark eyes widening. You pointed towards his tattoos and he blushed.

“Yeah, I'm an art student so it…kind of fits the vibe you know…Namjoon said-” He was cut off when Namjoon swatted his knee and gave him a pointed look.

“I just wanted to wear short sleeves tonight.” He finished lamely and you giggled wondering what Namjoon had said to the boy.

Before you could continue Seokjin came by to talk to Namjoon about class and Namjoon got up from the floor and promised he would be back soon, as he followed Seokjin in the crowd.

Now it was just Tae, Jimin, Jungkook, and yourself.

Now was the time to make a move.

Before you could even open your mouth to say something a girl came up to the couch eyeing Jungkook.

“Hey, we are going to start a game of Never Have I Ever in the dining room. You should join us.” She said with a smile of her over-glossed lips, staring at Jungkook and Jungkook only.

“Yeah, Jungkook let's go!” You said excitedly hopping off the armrest and looking at him.

This was the perfect opening to get Tae and Jimin alone.

God, you were a good friend.

Jungkook looked unsure but the girl didn't give him time to say no. Instead, she wrapped a well-manicured hand around his arm and pulled him from the couch dragging him through the crowd.

Taehyung snickered as you shook your head.

“Well, I should go keep an eye on him.” You say excusing yourself and grinning as you make your way through the house, taking the long way to the kitchen, which was right next to the dining room.

You found a red solo cup and filled it with pop as you kept an eye on the party. Tucked back against the kitchen wall you had a great view of the dining room, where Jungkook was dragged into a chair by the girl and looking super nervous.

You also had a great view of the living room where Taehyung took Jungkook's place on the couch looking like he had just won the lottery.

You smiled to yourself as you sipped your drink and watched the party unfold. You were more than happy to be a wallflower, just taking it all in.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone squeezed your arm and you looked to see Namjoon standing there with a dimpled grin.

“About time they got together.” He said nodding in the direction of Tae and Jimin whose heads were bent low, talking together.

“That's what I've been saying! The fact Tae dragged me here as a babysitter is ridiculous. He had nothing to worry about.” You admitted.

“Babysitter?” Namjoon asked as you flushed realizing what you just admitted.

“Uh. Shit. I shouldn't have said anything.” You said, embarrassed as Namjoon let out a soft laugh and adjusted his black beanie.

“Tae called me in a panic because he was worried about Jungkook. I'm supposed to be distracting him so Tae can have Jimin to himself. But I guess it all worked out.” You admitted with a shy smile.

“Ah. Yeah, Tae had nothing to worry about. Jimin has been telling me for months he thought Tae was hot. Plus Jungkook isn't like that. He thinks Jimin is cool. That's all.” Namjoon admits, sipping his drink again

“What did you tell him about his tattoos?” You suddenly asked as Namjoon let out a laugh and nearly spilled his drink in the process.

“He wasn't supposed to say anything! I told him, well I told him if he displays them instead of hiding under all these baggy clothes maybe he could get laid. I didn't think it would actually work.” He said surprised as you both looked over to the dining room where the girl was practically on his lap.

“Good for him.” You said with a small smile.

“Yeah. Listen, if Tae is having you play babysitter I'm gonna go talk to some people. Keep an eye on Jungkook. See you” Namjoon said squeezing your arm again and disappearing into the mix of people.

About five minutes after Namjoon left you alone in the kitchen the sounds from the dining room caught your attention.

You walked over, staying against the wall as you would much rather watch than play.

“Never have I ever gone skinny dipping!” A redheaded girl said completely slurring her words and thrusting her cup in the air, spilling half the drink on the table.

“Boring!” Someone called out and you watched as Jungkook seemed to flinch. You weren't sure if it was because of the question or because the girl was dragging her fingernails up and down his arm teasingly and shooting him what could only be described as bedroom eyes.

He was looking uncomfortable again, like he didn't know what to do with her and would rather be anywhere else.

“Let's get spicy shall we?” One of the guys said with a smirk that had your stomach twisting even though you were still against the wall not playing the game.

“Never have I ever had sex in public.” He called out.

Most people let out laughs and almost all of the table took a drink.

Except Jungkook.

Which got the attention of the girl who was currently tangling her fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of Jungkook's neck.

“What? You haven't?” She exclaimed loudly, which had most of the table looking over.

Jungkook looked like a deer in the headlights. You could see a rosy blush covering his cheeks and his eyes were wide and panicked.

Before he could answer someone else chimed in.

“Okay, never have I ever had sex!”

This time everyone at the table drank.

Except Jungkook.

The girl who was almost in his lap wasn't having that and stared him down.

“Wait you're a virgin? You are in college and a virgin?!” She asked obnoxiously loud as people around the table began to laugh.

“How old are you anyways?” a guy teased which got the attention of the whole table.

The girl took it a step further and grabbed her chair and made a big show of moving it as far away from his as possible.

The table erupted in loud laughter and Jungkook remained seated, a red blush covering his face and hanging his head in embarrassment.

“No seriously? How have you not fucked anyone before?” Another girl halfway down the table asked as the girl who was all over him a moment ago was rolling her eyes as if he wasn't worth her time.

Jungkook didn't lift his head. You could feel his embarrassment from across the room as the table kept laughing and teasing him with snide remarks.

You saw the same girl that was all over him about to open her mouth again and without thinking you stepped in.

You marched up to the table and raised your voice.

“Never have I ever been an asshole about something that is not my business and not a big deal anyway?” You said staring them all down with a cold look in your eye.

People stared up at you in shock and the crowd at the table completely went silent. Before anyone could form a sentence you continued.

“You better drink.” You said snarling at them as you nodded to Jungkook and he quickly raised himself from the chair.

Before you could move one of the guys spoke up.

“Why so offended? Are you a sad virgin too?” He teased as the table roared with laughter.

You didn't bother to respond, instead, you grabbed Jungkook's hand and stormed out of the dining room and to the front entrance, you grabbed your coat and bag and went right out the front door. Their laughter ringing loud in your ears.

Jungkook stared you down in awe and you finally turned to look at him after you calmed down a bit.

“I-You didn't have to do that. I mean thank you. But you didn't have to.” He said looking at you with a small smile.

Even though he said you didn't have to you could tell he was pleased that you got him out of that terrible game.

“Yeah, I did. They shouldn't have shamed you for that! It's stupid. Who cares if you have fucked a bunch of people or no one at all. It's not their business.” You replied firmly still feeling heated.

“Hey. It's okay.” Jungkook replied pulling you from your thoughts.

“I know I just. I hate when people shame people like that. It's wrong.” You admit finally feeling calm as you sighed and sat on the step.

Jungkook sat down next to you and rubbed his hands together trying to warm himself up.

You both stayed out there for a while. Not talking but sitting close enough that your legs were touching. You stared up at the stars and took in the silence.

“Listen you don't have to stay out here with me. I think I'm just gonna go home anyway.” You admit pulling out your phone to get a ride.

“I'll drive you home.” He said with a small smile as he grabbed your hand and helped you up.

“Jungkook you don't have to. It's fine.” You said.

“Think of it as a thank you for standing up for me. Come on it will save you money. I promise I'm completely sober. Couldn't drink during that game anyway.” He said with a big grin as he led you down the street to his car.

Once you both got inside he cranked the heat to take away the chill and kept the music low in case you wanted to talk.

Eventually, he pulled in front of your dorm and shut off the car you were feeling a lot more relaxed the further you got from the party.

“Thanks again for standing up for me.” He said. His voice small as he smiled at you softly.

You smiled back at him as you grabbed your bag from the floor and held it on your lap.

“Can I ask you? Are you…I mean have you….had…sex?” Jungkook asked as he stared you down with a confused look on his face.

You nodded.

“It happened with a guy I met in my first year. We saw each other for about three months and then had sex. It wasn't that great.” You muttered with a laugh. “Then he blocked and deleted my number and never spoke to me again. I tried to confront him in person but he acted like he didn't know me. It was super embarrassing.”

“That should not have happened to you. I'm sorry Y/N.” He said softly as he put his hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. His side profile is illuminated by the streetlights.

“Yeah well. You live and learn, right? You haven't had sex and I got ghosted after sex. We're a great combo.” You said with a humorless laugh, fiddling with the straps on your backpack not sure what to say.

“Can I…ask you another question?” He says sounding nervous as he won't look at you, instead still staring out the windshield into the dark night.

“Of course.” You say softly.

“Would you? Want to have sex….with me?” He says slowly, as if he was testing the waters.

Your eyes widened and you felt your stomach swoop as you stared him down.

“I mean I'm a virgin and you didn't have the best experience and I just thought- forget it it's… God, I can't believe I said that out loud.” He rambled.

You put a hand on his arm to stop him as he finally looked at you. Eyes wide, lips parted.

“Jungkook where is this coming from? Talking about sex and having sex are two different things and before tonight. I mean, we hardly said two words to each other.” You replied feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

“I just- I don't know I want my first time to be with someone I can trust. Someone I know. And after tonight… I mean you stood up for me in front of an entire crowd. You could see I was uncomfortable and stepped in. You didn't shame me for being a virgin and I just, god I don't know, I want it to be with someone I like. And trust. And that's you.” He says lacing his fingers through yours as you're taken aback

He trusts you?

He likes you?

“You….like me?” You ask feeling yourself grin.

Jungkook stares you down and smiles.

“Out of all that you only took away that I like you?” He teased as you let out a breathy laugh and the tension dispels a little bit.

“Namjoon said if I dressed more confident, became more confident, maybe you would notice me. It worked tonight huh?” He said with a smirk as your jaw dropped

“And here Namjoon told me you were doing it so you could get laid! That liar!” You said, body shaking with laughter.

“Well I mean, I did ask for that too didn't I?” He said back as you stopped laughing and stared him down.

The car suddenly feels hotter

and way smaller

You felt your face heat up and realized he was serious. So serious about the whole thing.

“Namjoon has known I've liked you for… a while now. He told me that being shy won't get your attention so he helped me tonight by making me dress like this. I'm not just using you to get laid Y/N I do really like you. I think you're smart and pretty and I trust you with this.”

You swallowed hard.

“But also I want to get to know you. If you'll let me.”

Before you could form an answer Jungkook took your phone and you watched as he put his number into your contacts.

Your thoughts were going a mile a minute as he handed you back your phone. You stared down at it in disbelief as he grinned at you.

“Anyway, I should get back to the party. I'm Namjoon's ride home.” He says as you grab your bag and exit the car. Still trying to process what he just said.

“Text me yeah?” He said as you closed the door and he shot you a smile before peeling away, back to the party.

------------

You texted Jungkook to make sure he had made it home safe

He had responded within minutes.

He also sent you a funny meme

You sent one back

Which had you both staying up well past midnight talking and sending funny pictures and videos back and forth

He told you about his tattoos

He told you about his childhood

His parents

You shared your life with him as he shared his with you.

It was turning into a beautiful friendship and after almost a month you were as close to Jungkook as you were with Taehyung.

November was a busy month full of studying and homework. You spent most of your days in the library now anyway as your roommate and her boyfriend's idea of a break from studying was to fuck wildly in the dorm.

You knew it was part of the college experience but you wondered if at this point you should just move into the library with how much time you were starting to spend there.

It also made you think of Jungkook's

and what he asked for that night.

That specific topic has not been brought up since. However, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

About him.

He was so funny, and sweet, and kind. Even though he had this shy exterior once you got to know him he was pretty impressive and there were a couple of pictures he had sent you that you saved in your phone just in case.

Like the one of him coming out of the shower showing you his tattoo sleeve with a grin on his face.

Like he knew what he was doing to you.

But all that would have to be put on hold because exam season was fast approaching and even Tae was starting to head to the library to study more.

The weather got colder and you spent most of your days either studying, grabbing a warm drink with Tae, or when your roommate was out you would curl up on the very small dorm room couch and watch a movie, snuggled in your comfiest clothes.

Sometimes Taehyung would join you for a movie. Eating most of the snacks and talking over the whole thing, usually about how cute Jimin was.

Sometimes Jungkook would join you. He would attempt to fold himself up as small as possible to fit on the couch trying to give you space, eventually, you would cave and lay in his lap so he had room to spread his legs.

Sometimes you would go to Jimin's house. Where the group would have a movie night or game night and somehow you would always gravitate towards Jungkook. Either being on his team for a video game or sitting on the same couch as him during a movie.

Tae begged you to just ask him out at this point

Oh, how the tables have turned.

By the time December came around these hangouts were non-existent. Everyone was in study mode and you hardly had time to schedule a meet-up as your books were piled high and you were cramming as much as you could just to pass your classes before winter break.

On your last exam day, you got an early gift from your roommate. You knew she always went home for the holidays and usually left the same day as you. However this year she and her boyfriend wanted to do a mini road trip before they went home so they were leaving a couple of days earlier than usual.

You immediately texted Taehyung and voted for a movie night. One last hangout before you all go home for the holidays.

He agreed as long as he could bring Jimin

You agreed as long as you could invite Jungkook.

Jimin showed up wearing a bright red Christmas sweater and he brought loads of snacks.

Tae showed up in a green Christmas sweater giving you a kiss on the cheek and bringing some drinks

Jungkook showed up in a red short-sleeved shirt and jeans, apologizing because this was the most festive thing he owned

You didn't really care because he looked good in red.

Very good in red.

Taehyung and Jimin grabbed pillows and settled in on the floor as they got the movie set up. Jungkook got in his usual position on the couch and you followed suit, snuggling into his arms and pulling a blanket over both of you as Tae and Jimin were getting comfortable on the floor.

Halfway through the movie you shifted in your seat to get more comfortable as your right leg was starting to go numb. As you shifted Jungkook wrapped his hands around you tighter and you moved backward pushing yourself further into his lap when you felt something.

A hardness

Poking into your back.

You froze as his grip tightened around you.

“Y/N.” He whispered in your ear which caused goosebumps to break out on your arms.

You pushed back against it again and he let out a breathy grunt in your ear.

He was hard.

Very hard.

Oh.

“Y/N stop moving… please.” He whined lowly in your ear.

The movie was long forgotten as you sat there, his arms still wrapped around you, hardness still poking you as you fought the urge to shift around some more.

Finally, the movie ended and you untangled yourself from him. His boner was long gone by now but you could feel your skin flushed at the very thought of him being hard.

You jumped from the couch helping Tae clean as Jimin and Jungkook chatted.

“When are you and Jimin heading out?” You asked Tae in the kitchen as he helped you pack everything up and clean the multiple snack bowls.

“Tomorrow afternoon. I'm driving him to his house then we're celebrating apart. The relationship is too new for the whole meet the entire family thing.” Taehyung explains with a cute boxy grin.

You could tell he was over the moon to be with Park Jimin and you were happy for him.

“What about you? When are you and Jungkook making it official?” He teases back and you shush him and shoot a glance at the living room.

Before you can answer Jimin comes into the small kitchen and wraps his arms around Tae saying that he was sleepy and was ready to go home.

Jungkook offers to help you clean the rest as they both put on their coats and say their goodbyes. Giving you hugs and wishing you Happy Holidays as they leave.

Suddenly it's just you and Jungkook

and you feel nervous.

He begins busying himself with cleaning the living room as you assist him. Neither of you spoke as you cleaned up blankets and pillows and the leftover chips Taehyung spilled when he was leaning in to kiss Jimin.

You could feel this invisible tension in the room as you both worked in silence. The dorms were pretty quiet because most people had gone home for the holidays and you almost wished there was some kind of noise.

“Listen I want to say I'm sorry,” Jungkook said breaking the silence as you put a pillow back on the couch and stared at him

“I just. I didn't mean to freak you out. It's just… you were in my lap… and moving around and it just kind of happened. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable” He admitted shyly looking at the floor.

You stared at him in disbelief.

You weren't uncomfortable at all

You were horny

For him.

“Jungkook.” You breathed as you stepped towards him.

“I'm not uncomfortable at all. Random hard ons are natural you know.” You all but whisper feeling your heart rate start to pick up.

“Well, I wouldn't say it was random Y/N. You in those tight leggings and that sweater, fuck. You look so hot… and then you were squirming in my lap… I mean… God.” He says running a hand through his dark hair.

You looked down at your outfit and almost laughed.

You were just wearing a plain forest green sweater and black leggings.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He admits with a shy smile which has you leaning in closer, breath fanning over your face.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” You ask voice low as he wraps his hands around your upper arms bringing you closer.

“Yeah.”

“Kiss me.” You all but sigh as he pulls you in and his lips connect with yours.

His kisses are soft and gentle. He takes his time pressing his lips into yours and his fingertips massage your upper arms.

You step closer so you are pushed right up against his body as he leans down and deepens the kiss. Tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

You open your mouth and let him take his time exploring you. His hands now rubbing up and down your arms.

All the days and weeks of talking, flirting, and getting to know each other poured out into this kiss.

You reach up and tangle your hands through his hair as he lets out a content sigh in your mouth. He walks you backwards so you are now pressed up against the wall next to the door, his body towering over you and caging you in as the kisses become more needy, and frantic.

You want to rip off his clothes and devour him whole. But you also know he is new to this whole thing and you want to take it slow. Make it good for him. Make it good for both of you.

You can once again feel his hardness poke against your hip and you grind down into it which has sweet moans falling from his lips.

You push your body into him harder as the kiss gets more aggressive. He is biting at your lips and pushing into you, his body covering yours as you can feel your stomach swoop and wetness coat your underwear.

You slowed down the kisses and Jungkook followed suit as you slowly pulled away and couldn't hide the grin that spread over your face.

He looked absolutely fucked out

Just from a kiss

His lips were red and slightly bruised, his eyes were wide, his hair was a mess and he was hard, so obviously achingly hard in his jeans.

You were sure you didn't look much better.

“Do you want to…?” You asked staring at him.

He nodded pulling up his shirt in haste and nearly getting it stuck over his head.

You smiled and shook your head as you helped him out of his sweater.

Sure you had seen him shirtless before, mostly in pictures but seeing it in real life was totally different. He was so toned and beautiful and you wanted to stand here for a lifetime taking him in.

“My eyes are up here.” He teased you as you finally broke your gaze from his chest and felt a blush creep up your neck.

“Jungkook are you sure you want to?” You ask softly taking his hands in yours and looking him in the eye.

“I've wanted to since that night at the party Y/N. God, I want to so bad. Please let me fuck you.” He replies which has your pussy aching.

“There are things we should do first before we dive right in.” You explain to him as he nods, teeth biting into his lower lip in anticipation.

“Please. Show me. Teach me.” He says, voice tinged with desperation as you bring a hand up to his arm and spin him around so he is now the one pressed up against the wall.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath as you trail your hand down his chest. Down, down, down you go as his eyes follow your every move.

You give him some more pressure and his hips buck up into your hand.

His skin is soft but taut under your warm palm as you slowly bring your hand to rest on his waistline.

His breath hitches when you go lower, pressing your palm into his erection which has him twitching against you. Head thrown back against the wall and a pretty whine slipped from his lips.

“God you're so big.” You whisper which has his eyes closing and his head thrown back.

“You can't say stuff like that Y/N…god.” He admits as you bring your hand up to unbutton his jeans.

“And why not?” You tease as you shimmy his jeans down and he helps you. Kicking them off and flinging them somewhere in the room.

“Because it's so hot to hear you say that and I'm scared I'm gonna cum in my pants.” He says with a hint of shyness as you stare at him.

“I'm sorry I know you expect me to last long but when you say shit like that and do shit like that. Fuck. I don't think I will be able to.”

You smile as you palm him through the thin material of his boxers. Watching as his cock jumps into your hand.

“Jungkook I have no expectations. This is your first time and our first time together. Believe me. I'm gonna make you cum more than once. Don't worry about having to last.” You say as his eyes widen and you stare up at him.

“Fuck your perfect. Do you know how perfect you are?” He says pulling you in for a kiss. Pushing his erection into you to get some relief as you swallow down his moans.

“You have to tell me if you want me to stop or if there is anything you don't like.” You say firmly, teasing the hem of his boxers.

He nods as you finally pull them down and his erection springs free.

His cock is thick and red as you take it in. It slaps up against his stomach and you watch as pre-cum oozes out the tip and down his shaft.

You feel your body ache for him and try to push the feeling aside.

This is about him right now.

You slowly bring your hand up to your mouth as you lick your palm, getting it wet before wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock and he lets out a shaky moan as you begin to stroke him slowly. His eyes are blown wide and glued to your hand and how it is moving smoothly across his velvety cock.

“Good?” You ask as you twist your hand at the top which has him twitching in your grasp.

“So good.” He confirms.

You keep him pinned against the wall as you continue to stroke him. Watching as his breath gets heavier and his teeth gnaw at his lower lip. You want to suck him off. You really do. So you pull away and grab his hand. Bringing him towards the couch and having him sit down.

You grab a pillow for under your knees and when Jungkook realizes what you are about to do he lets out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair, messing up his now sweaty locks.

“Wanna suck you off.” You mutter as Jungkook groans above you.

“Is that okay?” You ask and he lets out a little laugh

“Y/N at this point yes to everything. Absolutely anything.” He replies as you stare at him.

“Jungkook this is your first time. I need to know you want this. Consent is important.” You say firmly sitting back on your heels and staring up at him.

“I- shit sorry I just. Your right. Yes, you can suck me off.” He stammers as you smile up at him.

“Good boy.” You say as you watch his cock twitch against your cheek.

You stop your movements

and make eye contact with him

He is a blushing mess

and his cock is absolutely oozing pre-cum

“You like being called a good boy?” You ask with a knowing smirk.

“I…shit. Yes? Maybe? I don't know I can't think straight with you that close to my cock.” He utters as you finally slip him in your mouth.

You wish you could have recorded the moan that fell from his lips when you finally swallowed him down.

It was the sweetest thing you had ever heard.

Your hand came up to accompany your mouth as you jerked him off and sucked him down.

Jungkook was a mess above you.

His thighs were shaking and he was whining and moaning. His hands tangled in your hair to keep it pulled back and when he pulled a little bit too hard, you moaned around his length.

Your hand sped up along his shaft as you worked him toward orgasm. His body shook above you as you sucked and slobbered all over his cock.

“Gonna. Fuck. Please. Keep going.” He whined out as you work harder and stroked him faster, feeling his cock throb against your tongue knowing he was close and wanting to be the one to push him over the edge.

Y/N.” He warns, as you as you keep going.

“Y/N I'm gonna cum.” He warns you again as you pull your lips off him and stare up into his beautifully fucked out face.

“Wanna cum in my mouth?” You ask as he grips your hair tighter and you don't give him time to respond as you wrap your lips around his cock once more and suck him off as he groans and cums down your throat.

He must have been very pent up because the cum absolutely coated your tongue and you took your time slowing down your movements and breathing through your nose as you worked him through his orgasm.

He was breathing heavily above you and let out a soft wine as you pulled off his cock and swallowed his load.

You opened your mouth to show him and he raked a shaky hand down his sweaty face.

“You're going to be the death me of Y/N, I swear.” He mutters.

You moved the pillows from your knees and sat on the couch next to him. Cuddling him softly and letting him catch his breath.

He kept his head thrown back and eyes shut which gave you great access to his neck, where you were placing soft kisses against the skin.

“Y/N fuck.” He finally breathed out as he opened his eyes to look at you.

You smiled at him

You switched positions so you were now straddling his thighs as you started to kiss him. Your body is thrumming with need as his hands are playing with the hem of your shirt.

You nod against him, answering an unspoken question as he slowly lifts the material up and over your head.

You feel shy as he takes in your almost naked upper body.

You were glad you opted for a sleek black bra today.

His hands come around your body to unclasp the bra and once he gets it off he takes you in.

You sigh happily as you feel his lips explore your body.

His hands are wrapped around your waist holding you in place as he takes his time with you.

He slowly flicks your right nipple and you let out a high-pitched whine as you can feel him grin against your skin.

You start to grind against him as he licks and sucks your nipples. Wetness pools against your underwear as you grind harder against his thigh, desperate to relieve some of the throbbing.

“Can I take these off?” He asks as he motions to your leggings.

You stand up on shaky legs and nod as he peels them down your thighs.

He sucks in a breath as he takes you in.

“Should we go to your room?” He asks cocking an eyebrow as you nod and he lifts himself from the couch. His cock already starting to harden again as you make your way to your room and shut the door.

You turn on your bedside lamp and flop on the bed as Jungkook settles between your open thighs.

He can see the wetness that has stained your underwear and groans under his breath.

You waste no time in taking them off and throwing them in the room. Jungkook's eyes widen as he takes in your soaked core.

“Jungkook. Please.” You whine out desperate for him to do something.

Jungkook takes his time running his hands up and down your thighs as you spread yourself wider for him.

He moves his hands to rub along your lower stomach and you whine and buck your hips up, your core throbbing almost uncomfortably at this point.

“What do you want baby?” He asks.

“You. Please. Touch me.” You whine out as his fingers finally dip down into your folds and a broken moan escapes your lips as he brings your wetness up to your clit.

“Here?” He asks and you nod desperately as he begins to slowly circle your clit.

His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he rubs you slowly. His touch is feather-light and almost hesitant which has you wining out for more.

“Jungkook. More pressure. Harder please.” You beg as he speeds up his movements, which have you arching off the bed, eyes rolling back and hands grasping at the sheets below.

He works at a steady pace. You can feel your legs start to shake as he slowly pushes a finger against your entrance. Starting at you for permission.

You nod frantically and when he finally inserts a finger you both swear in unison as your tight walls clamp around his digit.

“More. If you're gonna fuck me I'm gonna need more.” You reply as he slowly shoves in another finger and you feel the slight burn as your body stretches to accommodate him.

Jungkook takes his time working you. His finger still playing with your clit as he slowly thrusts his other fingers inside of you.

Whines and moans are spilling from your lips as you feel a tight coil of pressure snake around your body.

You can feel the beginning of your orgasm and you beg him for more.

He does as he's told and begins to finger fuck you with more force. Which has your body arching off the bed and your knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets harder.

“Cum for me princess. Cum around my fingers.” He mutters as you feel the coil get tighter and tighter. You are on the edge and when he curls his fingers and rubs up against the spot inside you so nicely you let go.

Your body thrashes on the bed as you tip over the edge and cum hard all over his fingers. Jungkook works you through it whispering sweet praise which you can hardly hear over the blood pounding in your ears as you feel euphoria radiate off your body.

He feels you coming down from your high and pulls his fingers out. Not really sure what to do with the wetness he decides to lick it up which has a small moan leaving your lips as you watch him with lust-blown eyes.

Once he is finished he cuddles beside you, just as you did for him as he strokes your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you come down.

Your hands are shaky as you curl up next to him. Burying your face in his bare chest letting your breathing settle.

“Fuck. Are you sure you've never done that before?” You ask as he lets out a laugh and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“I think you're a liar Jeon Jungkook. There is no way you haven't done that before. What the fuck.” You whine out as you lift your head to look at him.

He is grinning widely and you still stare at him in disbelief.

“That was my first time. And god you were so hot.” He replies as you stare into his eyes, taking him in wanting to remember this moment.

“Still wanna fuck you though.” He mutters lowly as he grinds his now hard cock into your side, you grin at him before leaning over to your bedside table and grabbing a condom and lube.

He sits up and watches as you tear open the packet. Your hands slightly shaking with nerves as you roll it down on his hard cock.

You apply lube and spread it evenly trying to calm your own breathing.

“How do you want it?” You ask

“I…shit however you want it. Whatever is easiest. I just wanna be inside you.” Jungkook replies as you feel your pussy throb at his words.

“Maybe I'll be on top. Just to get used to your size. You're fucking massive.” You groan as Jungkook's cock twitches against your hand.

“Told you you can't say shit like that.”

You throw a leg over him as you guide his cock to your entrance.

His breathing is already heavy as you slowly sink down, letting the head of his cock slip in and stretch you out.

Even though he did prep you the sting is still there as you sink down on him. Taking your time and taking deep breaths as you go.

He is stroking your hair and breathing deeply as you finally take him all the way down. You shift your hips back slightly to get more comfortable and Jungkook lets out a grunt as his hands come down to rest on your hips holding you steady.

You still your movements and stare at him.

His eyes were blown wide and his lips parted. As if he can't believe this is happening.

You can't believe it's happening yourself.

You feel full to the brim with his cock as you wait for your body to adjust. You can't help but squeeze against him which has him whining and gripping your hips harder.

“You're so tight. Fuck.” He moans out as you bury your face in his neck and let out a shaky breath.

You slowly start to move up and down, trying to get used to the delicious stretch as you keep your face pressed into his neck, pressing hot kisses against the skin as you slowly grind against him.

“Fuck feels s'good.” He slurs out as you begin to pick up the pace, finally feeling the burn start to subside which was replaced with a neediness that you had never experienced before

Jungkook shifts his hips and starts fucking up into you. The tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot and causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“Fuck you're so wet. So tight. Fuck. Shit.” He grits out as he fucks up into you with more force this time. You grind down to meet his thrusts as moans spill from both his and your lips.

You feel the coil of pressure start to build and you know you aren't going to last long.

Not with the sounds Jungkook is making

Not with the way he is thrusting up into you

Not with the way the bed is thumping against the wall.

“Can I go harder?” He asks and you nod desperately as in one swift moment he flips you both over and pins you against the bed.

You let out a gasp as you watch him fuck into you. His hips snapped to meet yours, grunts and moans falling from his lips as he chases his high.

His hair is falling into his face and he never looked more beautiful.

You could feel your orgasm fast approaching and you snaked your arm between your sweaty bodies as you scrambled to find your clit.

Jungkook was fucking you deeply. His balls were slapping against you and by the sounds that were spilling from his mouth you could tell he was close too.

“Not gonna last much longer. Y/N. Fuck.” He moaned out as you rubbed your clit and just his words sent you over the edge.

You whined and arched your body up to his as your orgasm washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock as you rode out your high. Your eyes were shut tight and you could still feel Jungkook thrusting up into you as you clenched harder around him.

“Gonna cum, need to cum.” He whined in your ear as you finally came down from your high and watched as he fucked you harder.

His hands prying your legs open wider as he rammed into you.

Your body was still sensitive from your orgasm as you watched him, not being able to tear your eyes away from how hot he looked.

“Cum for me Kook. Be a good boy and cum deep in my pussy.” You whined out as that sent him over the edge and you felt his cock twitch and empty inside the condom.

You did your best to squeeze your muscles as your body milked his.

Jungkook flopped down on top of you with ragged breathing as you both came down from your high.

You stoked his hair as he laid on your chest, cock now softening inside of you as you stared up at the ceiling.

Felling good.

Feeling very well fucked.

He slowly pulled out of you and you whined as he sat up to throw the condom away.

You went to the bathroom and came back with a warm towel as you cleaned the both of you up.

As you were cleaning around the base of his now soft cock Jungkook grabbed your hand.

“Y/N I like you. I like you a lot. Please be my girlfriend.” He asked staring up at you.

You threw the towel at your hamper and cuddled next to him, naked bodies intertwined.

“Thought you'd never ask.” You said pressing a kiss to his temple before you both fell into a post-orgasmic sleep.

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