#I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS NEW CAMPAIGN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamersparacosm · 2 months ago

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jeon jungkook - the price of desire (part one)

warnings ; none!

prompt ; in which you learn that your dignity has a price, and unfortunately, it looks a lot like Jeon Jungkook in Calvin Klein boxers.

note ; WELL WELL WELL my angels. we are back with ANOTHER series <3 i am not kidding, this story has had me tossing and turning and screaming and crying. they are such a nuanced duo(even more so than utcf) and if you know me, you know i only write characters that are flawed af and boy… do these two have flaws. also so excited bc my dream is to be a CMO so all that marketing jargon is literally ripped from my real life. this is def a slower burn more than utcf even was, so part one is just getting to know reader, a glimpse into jk and hers future dynamic. it will be giving cocky idol and grumpy girl boss reader… yall hate to see it.. anywho all your love and support is so appreciated and im SO excited to kick this one off <3

playlist here

series masterlist here

You learned at an early age that the world doesn’t hand power to people like you. You have to take it.

Born in Busan, raised in a home where every won had to stretch, you grew up with a hunger that never faded. Your parents worked tirelessly; it was long hours in dimly lit shops, silent tears in the living room over bills, doing everything they could to put food on the table. They wanted stability for you, a quiet life where everything was paid on time and there was no need to chase the impossible.

But you weren’t built for small dreams.

At 17, you won a coveted scholarship to a university in Seoul, a golden ticket out of the cycle that kept your family trapped. There, you became relentless. Top of your class, the kind of student professors whispered about, the one who never failed, never wavered. But no amount of late-night studying or overachieving could buy you the connections that children of chaebol heirs and international elites were born into.

So, you had to outwork them. By the time you graduated, you had one goal: to carve your name into an industry that had no place for you. You moved to America, leaving behind familiarity, comfort, and even your family, knowing that to rise, you had to go where power lived.

New York City became your battlefield.

You started at the bottom, fetching coffees, ghostwriting proposals, working eighteen-hour days just to prove you deserved to be in the same rooms as people who had never known struggle. You didn’t just climb the corporate ladder; you burned every rung behind you so there was no way back down.

It took a decade, but now the plaque hangs on the wall. The name plate rings true of all your dreams. You are the Chief Marketing Officer of Calvin Klein.

At 30, you sit at the helm of one of the most influential luxury brands in the world, the architect of campaigns that have redefined fashion and culture. Your name carries weight in boardrooms, your decisions shift global trends, and every executive in the industry knows you are untouchable.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

In a world like this, power is never permanent. The moment you hesitate, falter, let someone too close, they will take everything.

All that to say — Monday mornings in New York almost always smell like steel and ambition.

The skyline stretches endlessly beyond the glass walls of your office, the pulse of the city thrumming beneath you, yellow cabs blurring past, heels clicking against concrete, the quiet hum of wealth without ever making a sound. You barely had time to sleep after landing from Los Angeles last night, but exhaustion has never been an excuse.

You straighten your blazer, heels clicking against the marble floors as you stride into the Calvin Klein executive boardroom. The space is drenched in morning light, the Hudson River glinting in the distance, but there’s no warmth. Sharp minds and even sharper tongues, all waiting for you to take your seat at the head of the table.

“Let’s get started.” Your voice is crisp, cutting through the murmurs as the team scrambles to attention. Coffee cups are set down, postures shift. The room belongs to you now, like it always does.

This is your campaign, your bread and butter — the Fall Collection, one of the biggest of the year. And today, the decision needs to be made. Who will be the face of it? You’ve put it off as long as possible, especially after the last campaign that had you sleeping, eating and breathing the word ROI.

A junior executive clears his throat, flipping through a stack of polished portfolios. “We’ve compiled a list of potential candidates. Some of the usual names, established actors, a few models with strong followings…”

You take the folder from him, skimming past faces that blur into one another, all predictable choices, safe bets. Safe has never impressed you.

“We’re not looking for predictable,” you say, voice even. “We need someone who will shift the culture. Someone who doesn’t just wear the clothes, but makes people desperate to buy them.”

Silence. Then, the suggestions roll in. A high-profile supermodel. A rising actor from a Netflix hit. Some European footballer with global appeal.

You listen, nodding as they speak, but your silence is judgment. Each name is good but not enough. Polished and uninspired, in your opinion.

You shoot them down effortlessly. “No. We’ve used her before.

No. He doesn’t have the presence.

No. I don’t need another pretty face.”

The tension in the room grows. The team knows you expect brilliance, not silly little recycled ideas.

Then, your VP of Content leans forward, fingers steepled. “I have a name,” He says, measured, waiting for your reaction.

You lift a brow. “Then say it.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

For the first time, there’s a halt of all noise. Light murmurs. Someone exhales sharply. You hear a scoff from the far end of the table.

“A Korean idol?” One of the senior execs frowns. “That’s a different market entirely.”

“Not just any idol,” your VP counters. “The biggest. Pretty much the frontman of BTS. His brand power is—”

“Unmatched,” You finish for him.

Because it is. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just a name, he’s a phenomenon. A face that sells out stadiums in minutes, a body carved in discipline, a force that transcends the music industry entirely.

Still, the pushback is immediate “Well, he’s never fronted a campaign of this scale.

Idol endorsements don’t always translate to luxury.

Do we want to take that kind of risk?”

Risk.

The word hangs in the air heavily. It should deter you. It should make you pause. But instead, you find yourself a tad intrigued.

What is Calvin Klein, if not bold? If not disruptive? The brand has always thrived on rebellion, on choosing icons that define eras rather than follow them.

Jeon Jungkook is undeniably that. Perhaps, so are you.

You let the murmurs settle before speaking. “What’s our engagement rate from the last campaign?” You ask, looking towards the analytics team.

“Thirty percent growth,” They answer immediately.

“And what’s BTS’s engagement on a single brand mention?”

A pause. A begrudging voice follows, “Higher.”

Exactly.

You glance around the room, seeing the uncertainty and hesitation. You’re about to give a speech greater than LeBron at the NBA Finals. You lean back in your chair, tapping a manicured nail against the armrest, already picturing it, the campaign, the impact, the sheer cultural shift this could create.

“I like it.”

Silence.

A ripple of realization moves through the room, as if with just three words, the decision has already been made.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Securing a global superstar isn’t an easy task, not even for you. The next few days are a relentless blur of negotiations, contract rewrites, and back-to-back Zoom calls with a team so notoriously meticulous it nearly drives your own to the brink of madness.

The stakes are high. Deals like this don’t just happen. They are built, fought for, and secured with precision. And Calvin Klein doesn’t like to lose.

Your office pretty much transforms into a war room. Tables littered with printed pitch decks. Screens glowing with data analytics, engagement metrics, and market predictions. Your executives pouring over legal clauses, revising them so every word is airtight.

In the center of it all, you stand. Any normal human would be threatened but at this point, you’ve gone full robot. You take every call personally. A negotiation of this scale is your battlefield, and you don’t delegate wars.

Jungkook, obviously, is never on the calls. It doesn’t surprise you. Artists at his level rarely handle the business side of things. That’s what agents, lawyers, and managers are for. His team is professional, unshaken even when you push hard.

Still, you know who he is.

Of course you do. You may have spent the last decade buried in boardrooms, but you were born in Busan. You grew up watching the Hallyu wave explode, and though you never had the time for it, your little sister devoured everything BTS.

You remember the way she would beg for concert tickets, how she’d fall asleep with headphones on, listening to their debut on loop. You used to tease her for it— why the fuck are you crying over an idol?

Funny, looking back at it now. Considering that idol’s contract is currently giving you a migraine.

His team is smart. They have demands, and they don’t bend easily. They want creative control over his campaign image. They want scheduling flexibility due to his commitments. They want Calvin Klein to align with Jungkook’s existing partnerships… list goes on.

All reasonable, but not easy. You fight for compromises, push for adjustments, rewrite proposals until every angle is optimized for success. At the end of the day, you know one thing: This deal is worth it.

And then, one morning, before you’ve even had a sip of your morning coffee, it happens. At exactly 7:14 AM, an email lands in your inbox.

SUBJECT: FINAL APPROVAL – JEON JUNGKOOK x CALVIN KLEIN

We are pleased to confirm Jeon Jungkook’s official partnership with Calvin Klein for the upcoming Fall Collection campaign. Thank you for your patience and professionalism throughout the negotiation process. We look forward to working together!

Your eyes flicker over the words. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times before you think you might pass out.

Slowly, a smile curves on your lips. You step out of your office, and before you can say anything, someone sees your expression and knows.

“We got him.”

The room erupts. Your team, overworked and barely running on caffeine, comes alive. Cheers echo through the space, hands slap against the table in triumph, tension melting into borderline euphoria.

They know what this means. This isn’t just a campaign. This is the kind of collaboration that will hopefully bring the brand back to the forefront of everyone’s minds and not in some TJMaxx aisle.

You let them celebrate. You don’t smile often, but today… today, you do.

Just when you think the victory high has settled, a package arrives later in the day for you. It’s a black envelope, embossed with gold lettering. No company branding. No assistant delivery. Just your name.

You open it carefully. Inside is a thick, cream-colored card with an unmistakable touch of handwritten ink.

Thank you for having me. I’m looking forward to it. —JJK

You stare at the writing for a beat too long. It’s clean, elegant, but slightly tilted, like the hand behind it didn’t care about perfection. The inked letters feel unexpectedly personal, almost at odds with the meticulous contracts you spent days battling over.

A small, teeny weeny little part of you does wonder… What kind of man is Jeon Jungkook when he’s not just a name on a contract?

You shake the thought away real quick. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the deal is done.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Power has a way of softening the sharp edges of travel.

As Chief Marketing Officer, you rarely have to think about logistics. The world bends to accommodate you with first-class flights, black car service, five-star hotels with skyline views. When business demands your presence in another country, the details are handled before you even lift a finger.

This time is no different.

The moment Calvin Klein secured Jeon Jungkook, it became your responsibility to oversee the partnership firsthand. Deals of this magnitude require your attention, and no one executes anything better than you. So you fly to Korea, fly home. First class as always, because nothing less is expected.

The moment the plane lifts into the sky, you immerse yourself in Jeon Jungkook.

Not the man— you don’t know the man. His brand. The name that moves markets, the face that has sold out entire fashion lines with a single post, the lives that have cleaned out ramen packets in seconds.

Your screen is a kaleidoscope of him, any campaigns, endorsements, past collaborations. Streetwear in one ad, high fashion in another. His presence shifts effortlessly from youthful rebellion to refined masculinity. He is everything Calvin Klein thrives on, raw and provocative.

He’s perfect for this.

You land in Incheon to a city humming beneath dark light. Seoul is quieter than New York, but no less alive with neon signs flicker against sleek glass buildings, the scent of rain and street food hugging the air.

A black car waits for you at the terminal, an assistant from Calvin Klein’s Seoul office greeting you with a polite bow. The ride into the city is smooth, the world shifting past in a blur of muted grays and bright LED screens. Your body is exhausted, but your mind stays sharp.

Tomorrow is the first meeting. You should be thinking about logistics. Contractual points that still need finalizing. The creative vision. The structure of the campaign. But as your car glides past Itaewon’s winding streets, past districts that are both familiar and foreign, you think of something else. You haven’t called home in a while.

You keep telling yourself you’ve been busy with deadlines, meetings, strategy decks stacked higher than your appetite for guilt, but deep down, you know the truth.

You haven’t called because you don’t know how to explain it. How success swallowed you whole, how you traded in your accent for sharper vowels, your mother’s cooking for room service, the comfort of home for the cold glass walls of boardrooms.

What would you even say?

Hi, I made it. I’m tired. I miss you. I don’t know who I am anymore.

It still is the least of your concerns when you arrive to your destination.

Your hotel is one of Seoul’s finest, very discreet, a haven of understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the skyline, and the quiet hum of a jazz playlist fills the suite when you enter.

You shrug off your coat, kicking off your heels, stretching out the tension of the flight. Your mind wanders a little as you pour your nightly glass of wine out; you will meet Jeon Jungkook tomorrow. It’s an odd feeling, seeing as you’ve met more celebrities in your life than you can count. You’d be a horrible liar , though, if you said you weren’t the least bit curious.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You wake before your alarm, the hush of Seoul stretching beyond the glass windows of your suite. The city moves gently at this hour before the rush, before the weight of the day settles onto its spine. For a moment, you allow yourself to breathe.

Discipline has always been your armor. You move through the motions with practiced ease, a cold rinse to shake off the last remnants of jet lag, a serum smoothed over skin (Laneige is the only right answer), a swipe of rouge on lips.

And today, more than ever, you need to be impeccable.

Your suit is white, tailored, almost impossible to ignore. It is a statement and a reminder that you are the architect of success.

However, when you step into the elevator, riding down to meet your driver, a flicker of something you haven’t felt in eons settles in your chest.

Nerves.

Not because you haven’t done this before. You have. You’ve met Hollywood A-listers, supermodels draped in couture, billionaires who own entire industries. You’ve handled them all.

It’s just… he does oddly remind you of home in some silly way.

You exit the hotel with the cool breeze of the morning air wrapping around you, the weight of the city’s movement already filling the space between you and the office. The car ride is smooth, twin reflections of New York’s controlled chaos and the quieter energy of Seoul. You barely notice the time passing as you mentally run through the agenda for the day, but there’s something about the looming meeting that sits heavier on your mind than it should.

The Calvin Klein Seoul office is small, nothing like the flagship headquarters in New York. The building is sleek but understated, a space that exists more for logistics than spectacle.

The moment you walk through the glass doors, the energy is so off. Your VP of International Marketing, a sharp-eyed executive named Daniel, greets you immediately. He is already speaking before you’ve fully crossed the threshold or even taken a breath of the office air.

“Everything’s set,” he says, handing you a sleek black folder. “Jungkook’s team will be here in twenty.”

You take the folder, skimming over the notes. “Any last-minute adjustments?”

“A few,” Daniel admits. “His schedule is tighter than expected, so we may need to shift some of the shoot days. And… his team wants final approval on every creative decision.”

You glance up at him, arching a brow. “They don’t trust us?”

“They trust us,” Daniel says, lips twitching. “They just trust him more.”

Fair. You figured they would play dirty at some point.

You nod, flipping the folder shut. “We’ll make it work.”

Daniel studies you for a beat, then smirks. “You nervous?”

You don’t hesitate. “No.”

You’re not. Not exactly. But as you settle into the conference room, as the clock ticks down to his arrival, you can’t shake the deadweight sitting on your chest. There’s not really a reason to be nervous, but suddenly, the fact that you sit at the head of the desk taunts you. It feels too official,, like every choice you’ve ever made has led to this exact chair, under these lights, and now everyone’s watching.

Daniel chuckles, stepping in behind you. “No need to act cool about it. I mean, dude is literally the most famous guy out there right now.”

You glance up at him. “Right,” you reply, settling into a chair at the table. “Do I give off fangirl vibes?”

“Fair play,” Daniel admits with a smirk. “It is also just business. He’s a client like any other.”

You raise an eyebrow, his words hanging in the air. “Sure,” you say, but something about the way you says it doesn’t quite feel right.

Daniel leans against the conference table, watching you with an expression that borders on amusement “So,” he muses, “are you ready to meet him, or are we keeping up this whole pretend you don’t care act the entire time?”

You shoot him a flat look, arms crossed. “I don’t pretend.”

He smirks. “Right. You just happen to be checking your watch every five seconds like we’re waiting for the President of South Korea.”

You exhale sharply, smoothing out an invisible crease in your sleeve. “You know I don’t care about the celebrity. I care about if my boss is happy.”

Daniel hums, unconvinced. “Riiiiight.” He tilts his head, watching you for another beat before flipping open a portfolio. “Alright, boss, walk me through it one more time. We’re running with the—“

Before he can finish, a soft knock at the door interrupts. The secretary peeks her head in, voice all smooth and professional. “He’s here.”

The words settle over the room. Daniel straightens up, giving you one last knowing glance before both of you move toward the head of the conference table. Your posture is perfect, composed, the picture of an executive who has done this a hundred times. Yet, for some reason, your palms are a little sweaty.

The door opens. A quiet hum of conversation drifts in first, footsteps soft against polished floors. And then, he steps through.

The first thing you notice is that he is not what you expected. Or maybe, he is exactly what you expected. Tall, poised, effortlessly self-assured. He moves like someone accustomed to attention, yet unaffected by it, a presence that doesn’t need to demand the room because it already bends to him.

He is dressed in black from head to toe. Black jeans, a crisp button-up slightly unfastened at the top, revealing the barest hint of a toned chest beneath the collar. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing a canvas of tattoos that swirl down one of his arms. Dark hair falls just over his brows, parted slightly. His skin is flawless, his lips full and plush, but it’s his round eyes that capture you first.

He has piercings, small silver hoops glinting in his ears, the metal just barely catching the light. And then, as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, you notice it, the piercing there, too.

You inhale, the moment stretching far too long.

Jungkook’s team follows behind him, a carefully curated group of managers, assistants, and legal representatives. They all exude efficiency, dressed in business casual

Jungkook is not corporate. He is the complete fucking polar opposite of it. And yet, as he steps forward, his expression shifts, a polite smile.

He greets everyone kindly, taking the time to nod toward the executives flanking the room, shaking hands, offering soft pleasantries.

You are still staring. For the first time in your career, you cannot decide if the man standing before you is a masterpiece to be marketed or a storm brewing.

You need to get a grip on reality.

Jungkook’s gaze is assessing, but you don’t let it linger. Years of discipline have trained you to absorb impact, analyze it, and move forward. So you shift your attention to the team standing behind him, your posture sharpening as you step forward.

“Good morning,” you say smoothly, extending a hand to the first of his representatives. “I appreciate you all taking the time to meet today.”

His manager steps forward first, shaking your hand firmly. “Of course. We’ve been looking forward to this partnership.”

One by one, you go through the motions, firm grips, polite smiles, nods exchanged. These are the gatekeepers, the ones who make the real decisions behind the scenes. You commit each of their names to memory, cataloging their expressions, their temperaments.

You turn lastly to Jungkook, your expression unreadable. His lips are still curled in a faint smile, but you keep your own face neutral. Instead, you bow, just a crisp nod of acknowledgment.

"Jeon Jungkook-ssi," you say, voice poised. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

When you straighten, you see it, the flicker of amusement crossing his face. He tilts his head, tongue pressing briefly against the inside of his cheek before speaking. “The bow? That’s formal. Are we at a company dinner?”

A few quiet chuckles from his team. You refuse to laugh. Your expression remains steady, composed. “It’s standard when meeting someone for the first time.”

Jungkook watches you for a beat longer, as if testing to see if he can break through that calm exterior. But when you don’t waver, he simply lets out a quiet hmm, not quite disappointed or impressed.

“Now, let’s get started.” You step toward the table, signaling the meeting’s shift into motion. “We have a lot to go over, and I want to make sure we’re aligned on the creative direction before we finalize schedules.”

Jungkook’s team follows, the atmosphere shifting from introductions to strategy.

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” you continue, placing a sleek, black folder on the table, “this campaign is projected to be one of Calvin Klein’s biggest of the year. Our goal isn’t just to market a collection, we want to shape a cultural moment. With Jungkook’s presence, we have the ability to move beyond traditional advertising and into something far more influential.”

You feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you focus on his team, keeping your voice measured and confident. “I know negotiations took time, but I want to personally express my excitement for this collaboration. We’re not here to simply slap a face on some storefronts… we’re here to build something iconic.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, arms resting casually against the armrests. “Iconic, huh?”

You glance at him for a second. “That’s the standard.”

The meeting stretches into deep discussions and strategic analysis, the campaign unfolding across the polished mahogany of the conference table. You lead with precision, breaking down creative direction, discussing visual aesthetics, mapping out timelines with a ruthless efficiency.

Jungkook listens. Not just politely, not just because he has to, but the man actually listens.

You notice it in the way his eyes sharpen when you speak, the occasional flick of his gaze to the proposal documents, the way he leans forward slightly when something actually interests him.

“So, to sum it all up,” you continue, flipping a page, “this campaign will lean into Calvin Klein’s signature branding but with a more modernized edge. We’re emphasizing raw masculinity, effortless sensuality—”

“Effortless?” Jungkook interrupts smoothly in a teasing tone. “That’s an interesting way to put it.”

You look up. “You disagree?”

He tilts his head, considering. “I wouldn’t call it effortless.”

His voice is casual, but something in it makes the room halt slightly. You set your pen down. “Then what would you call it?”

Jungkook lets the silence breathe, holding your gaze a second longer than necessary. His team shifts slightly, waiting for his response. He smiles “Intentional.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before nodding. “Fair point.”

His lips twitch, like he wasn’t expecting you to concede so easily. But before the exchange lingers, you move forward. “We’ll finalize creative direction by next week. In the meantime, we’ll align schedules for fittings and shoot dates…”

By the time lunch rolls around, the energy in the room loosens slightly. It’s quite clear everyone is exhausted and would rather be two courses deep into a meal now. Jungkook’s team begins gathering their things, murmuring about reservations at a nearby restaurant. Daniel gives you a glance, knowing better than to invite you along.

You never take breaks.

As the last few executives file out, you remain in your seat, flipping through campaign notes, already highlighting sections for revision. The door closes behind them, leaving you alone in the quiet of the conference room.

You barely have a minute to yourself before a soft knock echoes through the space. You glance up, expecting Daniel, but instead… Jungkook.

He lingers in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. His expression is unreadable, but he’s unmistakably casual in the way he stands there, like he has all the time in the world. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitate. You have no idea why. It’s not that uncommon to be friendly with the campaign faces. You actually really liked working with Kendall Jenner, with her even inviting you to her home in Calabasas.

You study him for a moment, the way he leans against the doorframe, his presence too large for the quiet of the conference room. With bated breath, you gesture toward the chair across from you. “Suit yourself.”

Jungkook steps inside, the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty space. His gaze flickers over the neatly stacked papers, the highlighted notes, the sleek silver pen in your hand.

“You don’t take breaks?” He questions innocently, lowering himself into the chair.

“I don’t have time for them. And I assume you don’t either, considering you’re here instead of at lunch with your team,” You retort.

Jungkook hums, tilting his head slightly. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d actually crack a smile once everyone left.”

A slow, teasing grin tugs at his lips. “So far, not looking too good.”

You exhale through your nose, unimpressed. “Was there something you needed?”

Jungkook leans back, the crisp fabric of his shirt stretching over his frame. He looks at you, not in the way men usually do, not with arrogance or expectation, but with a calculated curiosity. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

Great. You have an observer on your hands.

You blink once. “I don’t have to like you. Not in my job description, unfortunately. ”

His grin widens, slow and deliberate. “So cold. I think I like it.”

Your jaw tenses, but only slightly. He catches it. Most people flinch under scrutiny, but you don’t. You don’t shift, don’t fumble, don’t drop your gaze. Instead, you meet his stare with the same measured indifference you give to 55-year old men.

“Flirting with me won’t get you special treatment.” Your voice is detached, cool as a cucumber.

Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh, “Who said I was flirting?”

Your lips press into a thin line.

“Don’t worry,” he continues, propping an elbow on the armrest, “I don’t expect special treatment. Just the best. And from what I’ve seen so far…” he nods toward your documents, “…you don’t settle for anything less either.”

You don’t reply, but he’s hit the mark. Jungkook studies you for another beat, his gaze dipping, taking you apart piece by piece and seemingly trying to understand what makes you tick.

You hate to admit it, but he’s sharper than you expected. Most people in his position come into these meetings as faces, not minds. They sign the contracts, smile for the cameras, let their teams do the thinking.

You click your pen once. “If that’s all, I have work to do.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then moves a tad closer, just slightly, enough for you to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne, something clean and subtly musky.

His voice dips lower, softer now, but no less assured. “Tell me, do you always bet on things you know you’ll win?”

Your fingers still against the table. You set your pen down with deliberate precision, tilting your head slightly. “Only when the stakes are worth it.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile. The thing you’ll come to learn about Jungkook is this: the man cannot back down from a challenge. He loves games. Always has

It’s how he got here in the first place. Grit, obsession, the refusal to lose. Every accolade, every headline, every billboard was earned not just through talent, but by the sheer thrill of the chase.

Truth be told, he’s a little.. intrigued, in some weird way. To put it in even more cliche terms, you look like trouble.

And… well, Jungkook has always had a thing for playing with fire.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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