전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw | idol!jungkook • domestic boyfriend!jungkook • fluff • comfort • clingy jk • long distance during tours • lots of physical affection • late night calls • lowercase intended
┈ [ ✉️ ] Hi angels !! I have been wanting to do headcanons for a while !! So, I hope you all like this !! If you have any recs on the type of headcanons you want to see me write just ask me in my ask box !! Any-whom !! I love you and all I hope you enjoy !!
before tour boyfriend!jungkook :(
— gets clingier in the weeks leading up to tour without even realizing it. suddenly he’s always touching you somewhere. hand on your waist while you brush your teeth, laying half on top of you while watching videos, as well as pulling you into his chest every chance he gets
— absolutely spends the night attached to you. he sleeps with his face buried in your neck and keeps pressing sleepy kisses against your shoulder like he’s trying to memorize you before he goes
— keeps sneaking pictures of you before tour starts because “i need new pictures of my girlfriend before i leave” and most of them end up blurry because he’s laughing (happy) while taking them
— acts dramatic by joking about how you’re gonna forget him while he’s gone but gets noticeably quieter the closer departure gets
— definitely slips one of your shirts into his suitcase when packing. doesn’t tell you either. you just notice it missing later
— the morning he leaves he keeps lingering around the apartment for no reason. touching things. hugging you again after already saying goodbye. like he doesn’t actually want to walk out the door and leave
during tour boyfriend!jungkook :(
— sends you spotify links at like 2am with no explanation. just “this reminded me of u” and it’s always some ridiculously lovesick song
— facetimes you while half asleep after concerts and keeps the camera on even when neither of you are talking because he likes hearing you around in the background
— has a habit of taking pictures of random things to send you. the view outside his hotel. his breakfast. blurry backstage selfies. his shoes. literally anything because his first thought is always “i should show her”
— misses physical affection the most. he’ll complain dramatically about not being able to hold or touch you and then immediately get embarrassed after saying it :(
— sometimes falls asleep texting you and you wake up to messages that make absolutely no sense because he was drifting off halfway through typing them
— acts like he’s perfectly fine being away until you’re the one that says you miss him first and then suddenly he’s all like “yeah, i miss you”
— secretly rereads your old texts late at night when he can’t sleep after concerts because hotel rooms feel too quiet without you there with him
— keeps your shirt in his suitcase the entire tour even after it stops smelling like you because it still feels comforting to have something that’s yours
after tour boyfriend!jungkook :)
— whenever he comes home he walks around the apartment checking everything out for no reason like he has to remind himself he’s actually back home
— absolutely the type to stand behind you while you cook just so he can wrap his arms around your waist and rest his face in your shoulder, just breathing you in
— follows you around for at least the first two days after tour because he missed being near you so much
— domestic moments become his favorite thing ever after tour. grocery shopping together. folding laundry together. laying in bed doing absolutely nothing together. he missed those normal parts of you the most while away
— gets weirdly emotional over little things after being away for so long. your shampoo in the bathroom. your side of the bed. hearing you moving around the apartment in the morning
— sleeps so much better next to you after tour and refuses to let go of you the entire night. one arm around your waist and a leg kicked over your own like he’s scared he'll be alone again if he loosens his grip
— honestly just looks happier being home with you. softer smile. calmer energy. constantly pulling you close like being around you finally lets him relax again
Perm taglist : @kimmynammy @celliez @alphabetically-deranged @m4aimm @raceme2hell @bo-rimmy @mustanggbabyy (comment or ask to be added)
⤷one-shot!! in which.... jungkook shows up every Friday for six months to ask your father for permission to marry you, and gets rejected every time. Still, he returns each week with flowers, pastries, and stubborn determination. Meanwhile, you have no idea your boyfriend has been secretly trying to “apply” for the role of your husband behind your back.
I'm gonna marry her anyway (Magic!-Rude)
pairing: 전정국 x fem!reader
Genre: romance | slice of life | comedy | fluff | bittersweet
warnings: jk is down baddd, he's SOO in love, jk's a bit delusional tho, peak romance trope btw, he loves to pamper y/n, he would do everything all again without question, crying, happy tears, respectfully he wont give up, Jungkook is the sweetest
word count: 7.2k
Every Friday at Four
If someone asked you to describe your boyfriend, you would probably say something annoyingly sweet.
Kind. Talented. Loyal.
The sort of person who remembers the name of the stray cat that lives behind your apartment building, not only he remembers it but buys extra cat food and leaves it out in little dishes. The sort of person who buys two of everything because he knows you'll steal half of his anyway, and he'd rather plan for the theft than risk you going without. The sort of person who texts "Did you eat?" at 2 PM and then again at 6 PM and then again at 9 PM, and actually waits for an answer each time, and sends follow-up questions if you take too long, "What did you eat?" and "Was it good?"
What you would not say is: "My boyfriend spends his Friday afternoons getting rejected by my father."
Mostly because you don't know what's happening, and sweet Jungkook intends to keep it that way.
The first time he drives to your parents' house, he almost turns the car around.
Three times… scratch that…actually, four.
The fourth time is especially embarrassing because he has already parked. The engine is off. The keys are in his hand. He's committed, and yet his hand keeps drifting toward the ignition like it has its own agenda, like it wants to go home.
He sits behind the steering wheel, staring at your childhood home. The house itself isn't scary. It's just a house with white walls that need repainting. A small garden where your mother has beautiful flowers. A blue mailbox that has your last name on it with faded stickers that are peeling at the edges. Normal things.
Unfortunately, your father lives inside, and your father is terrifying. Not in a dramatic movie way, he doesn't threaten people or is part of the mafia, and he definitely doesn't own weapons or has a scar across his face.
It’s the fact that he looks at people the way professors look at exam papers, as if he's found three mistakes in the first paragraph and is debating whether he should continue reading or just fail you now and save him some time.
Jungkook swallows. His palms are sweating against the steering wheel. This is ridiculous… What if your father hates him? What if he laughs? What if he says no?
Then you'll ask again.
He grabs the box of pastries from the passenger seat and gets out before his courage disappears completely.
The door opens, and your father appears. For a moment, nobody says anything. The silence stretches and Jungkook becomes suddenly, painfully aware of every part of his body. He bows politely. The low and respectful kind of bow that says I come in peace, I mean no harm, please don't destroy me.
The silence grows longer, and our dear Jungkook begins wondering if people can die from awkwardness. If that's a medical condition, and if he should have written a will. Your father stares, Jungkook bows a little deeper. His back protesting.
Finally, your father speaks. "Did my daughter send you?"
"No, sir." Jungkook's voice comes out steady.
A pause. Your father's eyes narrow slightly, scanning him like he's reading a label. "Did something happen to her?"
"No, sir."
"Then why are you here?"
Jungkook suddenly forgets every sentence he prepared during the drive. All those carefully constructed arguments inside his overthinker mind, all those practiced phrases…gone, evaporated.
Wonderful
He manages a nervous smile. It feels crooked on his face, too big, too desperate. "I wanted to talk to you."
Your father doesn't move. "About?"
For a fleeting second, Jungkook considers pretending he came to discuss the weather. The weather is safe, but unfortunately for him, that would make even less sense than his actual reason, and also, he's pretty sure your father can smell lies the way other people smell smoke.
"Sir, I love your daughter."
Your father blinks a few times. "Oh."
Jungkook nods. Encouraged. Maybe this is going well. Maybe the hard part is over. Maybe…it is not going well.
"That's unfortunate," your father says, and steps aside to let him in.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
Five minutes later, they're sitting at the kitchen table.
Jungkook has never seen such an intimidating kitchen before. Everything is clean and organized. He is afraid to touch anything. Your father places a cup of tea in front of him. The gesture is kind, but the expression on your father's face is not kind. Not in a malicious way, it’s the expression of someone who has watched young men come and go from this exact house, who has learned that most of them are not worth the time it takes to memorize their names. Jungkook suddenly understands where you inherited your stubbornness from.
"So," your father says.
"So," Jungkook echoes, and he immediately hates himself for echoing. He's not a parrot. He's a grown man. He has tattoos. He pays taxes, and he should be able to handle a conversation without turning into a robot.
"You love my daughter."
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
Why? Because you're funny, because you laugh with your entire body, throwing your head back, because you cry during movies and then deny it, because you pretend not to like affection and attention and then complain when he stops giving it, which is confusing and annoying and completely endearing, because loving you happened so naturally he didn't notice it until he was already too deep in love with you.
He clears his throat. All of this is too much to say to your father. "She's amazing," Jungkook says.
Your father's face remains unreadable. "That's your argument?"
Jungkook panics. His brain, which had just started working again, shuts down completely. "No, sir."
"Good."
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
An hour later, Jungkook has somehow been interviewed more thoroughly than a job applicant for a position that requires government clearance.
Career plans. Finances. Future goals. Emergency savings. Apartment size. Life insurance. Retirement planning. Your father asks about his parents, his siblings, his thoughts on home ownership versus renting, his opinion on private schools versus public schools for hypothetical future children that Jungkook is definitely not ready to discuss but finds himself discussing anyway because when your father asks a question, answering feels mandatory.
At one point, your father asks what kind of husband he intends to be. Jungkook answers honestly. It's the only answer he has, the only one he's sure of. "The best one I can."
Something shifts in your father's expression, only for a second. Maybe it was approval…or pity…or maybe even indigestion. Who knows…Then comes the final question and the most important one.
The reason Jungkook is here, sweating through his nice shirt
His heartbeat speeds up. He sits straighter, tries to look like the kind of man who deserves what he's about to ask for.
"Sir."
Your father waits. He knows what's coming. Jungkook can see it in the set of his shoulders and the slight tilt of his head.
"I want to marry her."
Your father folds his hands and looks directly at him.
And says:
"No."
Like he was declining extra napkins. Like Jungkook had offered him a flyer for a kebab place he wasn't interested in. Like this whole hour meant absolutely nothing.
Jungkook stares. Surely there's more, surely there's a ‘but’ or an ‘unless’ or a ‘however’ waiting in the air, ready to step on stage and save this moment from being exactly what it sounds like.
There isn't.
Your father takes another sip of tea.
Jungkook blinks. His mouth feels dry. His ears are ringing. "Sir?"
"No."
"I understand, but—"
"No."
"Can I ask why?"
Your father nods. "You can."
Jungkook waits. Your father waits too.
Nothing happens.
"...Why?"
"Because I said no."
Jungkook nearly laughs. Not because it's funny, but because otherwise he might cry, and he's pretty sure crying in your father's kitchen would be the final nail in a coffin that's already been nailed shut, buried, and had a parking lot built over it.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
The drive home feels longer. His pride aches took, his heart too…everything aches, actually, in a way that makes him wonder if this is what adulthood feels like. He should probably be upset, and angry, and embarrassed that he poured his heart out to a man who responded with a single syllable.
But Jungkook finds himself smiling, a small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth while he waits at a red light because beneath the frustration is something unexpected.
Your father didn't laugh or mock him or send him out, and he didn’t tell Jungkook to find someone else’s daughter to love and cherish. He didn't say Jungkook wasn't good enough, wasn't successful enough, wasn't worthy. He just said 'no', and then he said it again, and then he kept saying it until Jungkook ran out of questions. He smiles because for two whole hours, he listened.
And Jungkook overthinks about it… a man doesn't spend two hours questioning someone he doesn't care about. A father doesn't interrogate a future son-in-law candidate unless the answer matters… unless the person sitting across from him is a real possibility.
‘No’ wasn't the end.
Jungkook glances at the road ahead, next Friday isn't far away. Five days, six hours, maybe less if he leaves work early. He can survive five days. He can survive anything if there's a chance at the end of it.
That evening, you're both sprawled across his couch, casually stealing fries from his plate. Your own plate sits untouched, still full, but you keep reaching for his anyway. Not because they're any different, just because they're his. This is the thing that you always do, and Jungkook loves it; it’s predictable and is exactly what he wants to come home to, exactly what he's fighting for.
Jungkook watches you. You glance up, caught, a fry halfway to your mouth.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Suspicious. Very suspicious. You narrow your eyes, and he sees your father in you for just a moment.
"What are you smiling about?"
He shakes his head. He can't tell you. Not yet. Not until he has something real to offer, something earned, something that proves he's serious. "Nothing."
You throw a fry at him. It bounces off his forehead and lands in his lap. You look proud, as if you've accomplished something significant, and your boyfriend laughs. Suddenly, the rejection doesn't feel so heavy anymore, because at the end of the day, every difficult conversation leads back to this. To you, to the future he's trying to build, one Friday at a time.
Jungkook picks up another fry. You steal that one too, quick as a cat, and he lets you. He doesn't even try to stop you. He watches you eat it, watches you chew, and for now, he lets you.
After all, he has bigger battles waiting for him next Friday. And the Friday after that. And however many it takes until your father finally says yes.
Now, 6 Months later
You are folding laundry when your phone buzzes against the coffee table, skittering like an insect that can't decide where to die. It's a text from him.
jk: Still at work, might be late for dinner, don't wait up
You smile because, of course, he is. He's always at work, or the gym, or somewhere building his body while you eat instant noodles in sweatpants that have a hole in the left thigh. (no shame)
What you don't know is that your boyfriend is not at work. Your boyfriend is currently sitting in his car in front of your parents' house. He's been here before. Many times. 6 months of Fridays, to be exact, which is 24 Fridays, which is 24 times he's climbed out of this same car with his heart hammering against his ribs.
Jungkook checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. He looks good. He looks great, actually, black sweater, hair styled in that particular way that took him 45 and 3 YouTube tutorials. He looks like a man who deserves a ‘yes.’ He looks like a man who is about to get another 'no', but hope, as they say, is a stupid and beautiful thing that dies slowly.
"Okay," he whispers to himself. "Okay. This time."
He reaches into the backseat for the flowers, peonies this week, because last week your mother mentioned she liked them and Jungkook remembered. He bought pastries again from that French place across town that requires a reservation three days in advance. Your father sees him coming up the walk through the living room window, and he doesn't move.
"Who is it, dear?" your mother calls from the kitchen.
"Nobody," your father says, which is technically true because, as far as he's concerned, Jungkook hasn't earned the right to be somebody yet.
"Nobody" rings the doorbell. Your father counts to ten before he stands. He opens the door.
"Sir," Jungkook says.
"Jungkook," your father says, like he's surprised, like he hasn't been watching the car sit in the driveway for fifteen minutes. "Again?"
"Yes, sir. If you have a moment."
"I suppose I have a moment."
This is their ritual. Your father steps aside to let him in, and Jungkook enters your childhood home. He can smell your mother's cooking from the kitchen. Something with garlic. His stomach growls, which is embarrassing, but your father pretends not to notice because even he has limits to his cruelty.
"Flowers," Jungkook says, holding them out. "For Mrs. … he clears his throat…for your wife."
"She'll appreciate them."
"And these are from Maison Blanc. The almond croissants you mentioned."
"You remembered."
"I remember everything, sir."
This is the part where your father should feel bad. This is the part where a normal person would see the earnestness in this young man's face. Your father is not having any of it. "Sit," he says. "I'll make tea once again."
They sit in the living room. The couch is old, and Jungkook sinks into it the way he always does, while your father sits in his armchair. The tea is green and bitter. Jungkook hates green tea, but he drinks it anyway.
"So," your father says.
"Sir," Jungkook begins, and he sets down his cup because his hands are shaking again and he doesn't want to spill on the carpet. "I know I've asked before. Many times. But I'm here to ask again."
"Mhm."
"I love your daughter. I have loved her for…" He pauses, does the math "…two years, four months, and sixteen days. Not that I'm counting. I mean, I am counting. I have a calendar. That sounds creepy. It's not creepy. It's —"
"Jungkook."
"Yes, sir?"
"Deep breath, son."
Jungkook takes a deep breath. Your father watches him.
"Sir, may I have your blessing to marry your daughter?" The question hangs in the air between them.
Your father takes a sip of tea. He thinks about you, his daughter, his only child, the person who once cried for three hours because her goldfish died and then forgot about it by dinner time. He thinks about the way you looked at Jungkook the first time you brought him home, like he was made of magic and promises. He thinks about the way Jungkook looks at you, like you are the only thing in the world that matters, like he would burn down every building between here and the sea if you asked him to.
He thinks, good.
Then he says: "No."
Jungkook nods. He expected this, but something in his chest still sinks, still curls up small and wounded. 25 rejections. 25 times he's asked.
"Can I ask again why, sir?"
"Because," your father says, and he leans forward, and Jungkook recognizes this posture. This is the posture of a man about to deliver a lesson. "You still flinch when I say no."
"I … what?"
"You flinch. Your shoulders go up, your eyes go down. You look like a dog that's been kicked." Your father's voice is not unkind, but it is firm. It is the voice of a man who has spent thirty years teaching high school English and knows exactly how to make a point land. "If you want to marry my daughter, you need to be able to hear 'no' without breaking. You need to be able to hear 'no' and keep standing anyway."
Jungkook stares at him. "You want me to… you're testing me??"
"I'm teaching you," your father corrects. "There's a difference."
"How long?"
"Until you stop flinching."
"And if I never stop flinching?"
Your father smiles. "Then you're not the man I thought you were, and my daughter deserves better."
They sit in silence. From the kitchen, your mother's voice rises in a question about dinner, and your father calls back that they'll be a while.
"You can go," your father says. "Unless you want to stay. Daeun made enough for three."
Jungkook should go. He knows he should go. He's supposed to meet you in two hours, and he needs to shower, and he needs to practice his smile so you won't know that he's been here again, that he's been rejected again, but the smell of garlic is making him dizzy with hunger, and your father's face has softened in a way it never has before, and something in Jungkook makes him stay.
"I'd like to stay," he says. "If that's okay."
Your father nods. "Set the table, then. You know where the plates are."
He does. He knows where everything is. He's been here enough times to have memorized the layout of your childhood home. He knows your father takes his coffee black and your mother hums when she cooks. He knows these things because he loves you, and loving you means loving where you came from, even when where you came from keeps telling him no.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
You just got out of the shower when he texts again.
jk: “omw saved you some dumplings. It was a coworker's bday today.”
Y/n doesn’t question anything. You don't know about the tea, or the conversation, or the way your father's eyes went soft when Jungkook finally laughed at one of his jokes. You have no idea that somewhere in your childhood home, there's a drawer where your father keeps the cards Jungkook has brought. And you definitely have no idea that your father talks about Jungkook to his friends, calls him "that persistent kid" with something like pride in his voice. You don't know that your boyfriend is learning how to be the kind of man who doesn't flinch. You don't know that his heart that's been broken so many times and still beats hopeful.
He thinks about you. He thinks about the way you look when you first wake up, he thinks about the way you laugh, he thinks about getting down on one knee and offering you everything he has, which is not much, which is everything. Because many months ago, he made a promise to himself that he would do this right, that he would have your father's blessing.
You text him
You: hurry up, I'm hungry, and the TV show just started!! <3
Three socks and a suspicion
You are standing in front of your open sock drawer when you realize something is wrong with your boyfriend. Not wrong-wrong, not cheating-wrong or lying-wrong or has-a-secret-family-in-a-whole-different-country-wrong.
Jungkook has been... off.
Not distant, if anything, he's been more present than usual, texting more, calling for no reason, showing up at your apartment with food he claims is "leftover from the guys" but is clearly freshly bought because since when does Namjoon eat salmon with lemon dill sauce? Since when does anyone in that dorm eat vegetables that aren't covered in cheese? (again, no shame)
You hold up three socks. None of them match.
"You're thinking loudly," Jungkook says from your bed, where he's sprawled on his stomach, scrolling through his phone. He always knows when you're thinking. It's one of his most annoying qualities as a boyfriend.
"I'm not thinking," you lie.
"Your forehead does this thing." He finally looks up, and his eyes… those big, dark eyes that you fell into like a well you never wanted to climb out of… crinkle at the corners. "It wrinkles. Right here."
"Maybe I'm just getting old."
"You're 23."
"24 in three months."
"Ancient," he agrees, solemn as a funeral. "Should I buy you a cane? Or maybe one of those chairs that lifts you up?"
"Jeon Jungkook."
"Yes, my elderly girlfriend?"
You giggle and throw a sock at him. "You've been weird lately," you say.
"Weird how?" he asks, and his voice is casual, perfectly casual, too casual.
"I don't know. Distracted. Happy distracted. Like you're not telling me something."
Something flickers across his face. Something that looks almost like panic, or maybe hope, or maybe a little bit of both.
"Maybe I am," he says, and then he smiles and pats the space on the bed next to him. "Come here. I'll tell you, angel."
You go because you've always been weak when it comes to him. After all, he could ask you to follow him into a burning building, and you'd follow. The bed dips under your weight.
"Tell me," you say.
"I can't."
"Jungkook."
"I literally can't. It's not my secret to tell…But I promise it's a good secret. The best secret, and when you find out." He stops and swallows… "when you find out, I hope you'll say yes."
Your heart does something complicated in your chest, a backflip, a small, confused seizure. "Say yes to what?"
"Everything," he whispers.
You should push. You know you should push, but he's looking at you like you're the only thing in the world, and you forget how to form words. You forget your own name. You lean in to kiss him because that's the only thing your brain will allow, you kiss him and he kisses you back.
Your mother knows.
She's known since week three, when she came home early from her book club and found Jungkook washing dishes in their kitchen while your father dried. They were arguing about baseball, and your father was laughing. She stood in the doorway and watched them.
"Mrs. Y/L/N" Jungkook had stuttered when he saw her, dropping a plate back into the sink with a splash that soaked his shirt. "I can explain."
"Can you?" she'd asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Not really. No. I'm sorry."
She'd looked at your father, who was doing a terrible job of looking innocent. Your father, who had told Jungkook ‘no’ 13 times at that time, showed no signs of stopping.
"How long?" she'd asked your father.
"13 weeks," he'd said, like he was proud of it. Like this was an accomplishment.
"And how many more?"
"We'll see."
Your mother had sighed then, it's the sigh of a woman who has been married to this man for 22 years and has learned that some battles are not worth fighting. She'd picked up a towel, started drying the plate that Jungkook had abandoned, and said: "He likes the almond croissants from Maison Blanc. But the chocolate ones are better."
Jungkook had stared at her. "You're not... mad?"
"Oh, I'm furious," she'd said, and smiled. "But I'm also hungry, and you two have clearly been eating without me, so you're taking me to dinner. Somewhere expensive."
That was week 13.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
Now it's week 27, and your mother has become Jungkook's accomplice. She texts him recipes your father likes. She has, on two occasions, lied to you about where Jungkook is on Friday afternoons, which makes her feel slightly guilty, but she's never seen your father have this much fun. Not at your graduation, not at your sister's wedding, not when he finally beat his brother at golf after 15 years of losing. This ridiculous ritual of weekly interrogation is the most fun he's had in decades.
"He's coming today," your father says now, not looking up from his newspaper. It's Friday. It's 3:30. He checked the clock four times in the last hour.
"I know," your mother says.
"He's bringing those almond things."
"You love almond things."
"I tolerate them," he corrects.
She sits down across from him. "You know you're going to ahve to say ‘yes’ eventually."
"Do I?"
"Yes. Because, despite your best efforts, you like him. You like him more than you liked Minji's husband, and you liked Minji's husband enough to cry at their wedding."
Your father sniffs. "I had allergies."
"You had feelings." She reaches across the table and touches his hand. "When are you going to tell her?"
"Who?"
"Your daughter. The person this actually concerns."
Your father is quiet for a long moment. Outside, Jungkook's car pulls up, and your father straightens his shoulders and puts on his mask of indifference to become the man who says ‘no.’
"When he stops flinching," your father says. "Or when she figures it out. Whichever comes first."
"And if she never figures it out?"
Your father smiles. It's a small, complicated smile, the smile of a man who has spent his life teaching other people lessons they didn't know they needed to learn. "Then she's not as smart as I raised her to be," he says, "and Jungkook will have to keep coming forever."
The doorbell rings. Your mother gets up to answer it, leaving your father to his newspaper and his anticipation and his strange, stubborn hope.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
Jungkook is not flinching today.
He's thought about it all week, actually, ever since your father said those words like a challenge.
He's practiced in the mirror. He's practiced in the shower. He's practiced saying ‘no’ to himself, which felt ridiculous but also necessary.
He stands on your parents' porch with lilies-of-the-valley in one hand and chocolate croissants in the other. He switched because he suspects your father is tired of pretending to like almonds.
I will not flinch, he thinks.
Your mother opens the door. "Chocolate," she says, looking at the box. "Smart boy."
"I have it on good authority that almonds are overrated."
"Your authority is correct. Come in. He's in his usual spot."
The living room is the same as always. The couch is waiting to swallow him. The armchair is waiting to judge him. Your father is waiting to break his heart, gently.
"Sir," Jungkook says. He doesn't sit. Not yet.
"Jungkook." Your father folds his newspaper. "You're early."
"I couldn't wait."
"Eager to be rejected?"
"Eager to try."
They sit. The tea is prepared, black today, not green, which Jungkook takes as a good sign, or maybe just as your mother intervening on his behalf. The chocolate croissants are placed on a plate.
"So," your father says.
"Sir," Jungkook says, and he sets down his cup, and he looks your father directly in the eyes, and he does not look away. "May I have your blessing to marry your daughter?"
Your father opens his mouth to say ‘no.’
Jungkook does not flinch or move, and your father notices. Your father notices, and something shifts in his expression like seeing a student finally understand the lesson.
"No," your father says.
Jungkook does not flinch.
"Okay," Jungkook says. "I'll ask again next week."
Your father leans forward. "Why?"
"Because I love her. Because I want to do this right. Because… because you saying ‘no’ doesn't change what I want. It just changes how long I have to wait."
Your father is very still. From the kitchen, your mother is listening, holding her breath, ready to intervene if necessary.
"And if I never say yes?" your father asks. "If I keep saying ‘no’ until you're old and gray and she's moved on to someone else?"
"Then I'll keep coming," Jungkook says, and he means it. "I'll keep coming because this isn't about you. It's about her. And she deserves someone who doesn't give up just because it's hard."
Your father looks at him for a long time. "You're not flinching," your father says quietly.
"No, sir. I'm not."
Your father sits back. He picks up his tea. He drinks it, slowly, thoughtfully, like he's tasting something new. "The chocolate croissants are better," he says finally. “Do you think I’m being cruel to you?”
"No, I understand you’re being careful."
"Do you?"
"I have a sister," Jungkook says. "She's younger, if someone wanted to marry her, I'd want them to work for it. I'd want to know if they were serious." He pauses, chooses his words carefully. "I don't think you're cruel, sir. I think you're scared. And I think that's okay. Because I'm scared too."
Your father laughs. It's a short, surprised sound, like a cough that turned into something better. "You're scared? Of what?"
"Of not being enough. Of messing up. Of all of it…marriage, forever, being someone's whole world. What if I'm bad at it? What if I hurt her? What if I try my best and my best isn't good enough?"
Jungkook realizes he's said too much, but your father doesn't attack. He just nods, slowly, like he's hearing an answer to a question he didn't know he was asking.
"So that's why you flinched," your father says. "Not because of me. Because of the fear."
"Yes, sir."
"And now?"
Jungkook thinks about the fear, which is still there; it will always be there, he knows that now. He thinks about the future, which is uncertain, which is terrifying, which is beautiful because it contains you.
"Now I'm scared," he says, "but I'm here anyway."
"Next week," your father says. "Bring the almond croissants. I changed my mind. I like them better."
"Yes, sir."
"And Jungkook?"
"Yes?"
Your father turns around and smiles, "Stop calling me sir. My name is Seojun."
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
You are eating a salad when Jungkook finally shows up, two hours late.
"Sorry," he says, dropping onto your couch with the boneless grace of a man who has been through something and survived. "A meeting ran long."
"Liar," you say, but you're smiling because he's here. He's always here, because even when he's keeping secrets, he's keeping them with such obvious love that you can't really be mad.
"Am I?"
"You're wearing a hoodie. You don't wear a hoodie to meetings."
He looks down at himself, surprised, like he hadn't noticed. "Huh. Guess I'm caught."
"Guess you are. Where were you, really?"
"I was," he says slowly, "learning how to be brave."
"Jungkook…”
"And I think," he continues, "that I'm almost there, almost ready., my love." He reaches out, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers are warm. "Soon," he promises. "Soon you'll know everything.”
"Okay," you say. "But if this secret is bad, if you're secretly a criminal or you have a twin, I'm going to be mad."
He pulls you close, rests his chin on your head, and you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. "I love you," he says, like it's a promise, like it's a prayer, like it's the only true thing in the world.
"I love you too," you say..
The Blessing
You are standing in the middle of your apartment holding a spoon when the world changes. Your mother calls, and her voice, when you answer, sounds strange.
"You need to come home," she says. "This Friday. Four o'clock."
"Mom, I have work-"
"Four o'clock," she repeats, "And honey? Don't tell Jungkook."
"Mom...?," you say slowly, "what's going on...?"
But she already hung up.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
Jungkook knows something is different. He's known since Tuesday, when your mother texted him with instructions for this Friday that were more specific than usual.
Daeun: Wear the blue shirt, and bring the small box, not the big one. She's suspicious enough already.
He's been carrying the small box for four months. It lives in his gym bag, wrapped in an old T-shirt, tucked between his protein powder and his backup headphones. He's taken it to work, to the convenience store at 2 am, when you wanted ice cream. He checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. The blue shirt, your favorite.
Today feels different. Today feels like the last time, one way or another. He drives across town with the box in his pocket and his heart in his throat. He doesn't know you're already there. He doesn't know that your mother finally broke, finally told you everything, finally couldn't stand keeping the secret for one more day. He doesn't know that you're sitting in your childhood bedroom right now, listening to your mother's rushed explanation to you, “Every Friday, for 6 months, he…” with your hands shaking and your eyes filling with tears that you can't quite name.
Are you angry? You should be angry. He kept a secret. A big one. A secret that involved your father and pastries and some kind of ongoing test that you apparently needed to pass without knowing you were taking it. But underneath the anger is something else that feels like being chosen, over and over again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask your mother, and your voice sounds small, like a child's.
"Because he asked us not to. Because he wanted to do it right. And because your father was having too much fun to stop."
"He's been rejecting him? For 6 months?"
"29 times," your mother says. "This will be 30."
"That's…" you stop, because you don't know what that is. Cruel? Romantic? "Where are they?"
"Living room…waiting."
You stand up. Your legs feel unsteady, and you walk to the door, opening it and hear:
"You're late," your father says.
"Traffic," Jungkook replies, and his voice is steady.
You walk slowly and silently down the hall. You can see them through the doorway. Your father in his armchair, the throne, Jungkook on the couch.
"So," your father says. "This is 30."
"Yes, sir."
"You know what I'm going to say."
"I think so," Jungkook says. "But I'd like to hear it anyway."
"You stopped flinching," your father says. "Week 26. Do you remember?"
"I remember."
"I thought that would be it. I thought I'd say ‘yes’ then, and we'd be done with this." Your father leans forward. "But then I realized… flinching was just the first test. The easy one. The real test is what you do after."
Jungkook is very still. "And?"
"And you've shown up," your father says. "29 times. Through my bad moods and my stupid questions and that week where I made you help me clean the garage because I wanted to see if you'd complain."
"I didn't complain, sir."
"Yes, that's right."
You are holding your breath. You realize this only when your lungs start to hurt, when the edges of your vision go blurry. You let it out, slow and silent, and you watch your father's face.
"Jungkook," your father says.
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you love my daughter?"
"More than anything."
"Will you keep loving her? When is she difficult? When she's tired? When she's been your wife for 20, and the newness has worn off, and you're left with just, with her ordinary flaws?"
Jungkook doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Will you keep showing up?"
"Every day," Jungkook says, and his voice breaks slightly, but he doesn't flinch. He doesn't look away. "Every Friday. Every Tuesday. Every day that ends in Y, I'll keep showing up until you believe me, and then I'll keep showing up so you don't forget."
"Jungkook," your father says.
"Yes, sir?"
"My name is Seojun."
"I know, sir. I mean — I know, Seojun."
Your father stands up. He walks to Jungkook, who stands too, automatic, respectful, ready for whatever comes next. He puts his hand on Jungkook's shoulder.
"Yes," your father says.
Jungkook's face crumples for a blink…the relief, the exhaustion, the pure happiness of finally being enough.
"Seojun," your father corrects, but he's smiling. "And you're welcome. Now…" he steps back, clears his throat "…you have a question to ask, don't you? Might want to get to it. She's standing right behind you."
Jungkook turns.
You are crying. You didn't realize you were crying, but your face is wet, and your hands are shaking, and you can't seem to make your mouth form words. You look at him. at your boyfriend, at this stubborn, persistent man who loved you enough to endure 29 rejections just for the chance to propose properly.
"You…" you start, and your voice breaks. "You idiot. You absolute…why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to- " he starts, and then stops, because you're walking toward him, and then you're in his arms.
"I would have said yes," you mumble into his shoulder. "Week one. I would have said yes."
"I know," he says.
"Ask me," you say.
"What?"
"Ask me. You came here thirty times to ask him, now ask me."
Jungkook's hands are shaking. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the small box. It's worn from being carried, from being hidden.
He gets down on one knee. Your mother appears in the doorway, raising the phone to record this, to capture it, to prove that it really happened.
"Okay," Jungkook says, and he's crying now too; you realize the tears tracking down his face in the most undignified, most beautiful way. "Okay. I've been practicing this. In the car. In the shower. In my head, about a thousand times." He opens the box. The ring is simple, exactly right, exactly you. "I love you. I've loved you for two years and four months and thirty days. Your father told me I wasn't ready. But I think- I hope- I'm ready now. Will you…" He stops, swallows, starts again, " …will you marry me? Will you let me keep showing up? Will you be my family, officially?"
You look at him. You look at your father, who is wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and pretending he's not. You look at your mother, who is crying, who has been waiting for this for weeks when she first saw Jungkook washing dishes in her kitchen.
You look at Jungkook.
"Yes," you say. "Yes, you idiot. Yes, I'll marry you. Yes to all of it. Yes, forever."
He puts the ring on your finger. He stands up, and he kisses you.
⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ♡ྀི ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔
Later, after the crying and the laughing and your father insisting on opening the good wine that he's been saving for something important, you sit on the porch with Jungkook, your hand in his, the ring catching the light.
"30 Fridays," you say. "You came here 30 times."
"29 rejections," he confirms. "One yes."
"Was it worth it?"
He looks at you. He looks at you like he looked at you the first time, like he'll look at you when you're old and gray and arguing about whose turn it is to take out the trash.
"Every single one," he says. "I'd do 30 more. 300. However many it will take."
You lean your head on his shoulder.
Inside, your father is telling your mother that he knew Jungkook would make it, that he never doubted, that he was just testing him to be sure. Your mother is rolling her eyes and pouring more wine and smiling in a way that says she knows exactly what really happened. That her husband has already accepted your boyfriend somewhere around week twelve, and has been pretending otherwise ever since.
But that's their story.
This is yours.
The future is waiting.
It's going to be exhausting and beautiful and completely worth it.
Pairing: fem! management reader x idol! jeon jungkook.
Summary: Jungkook has been obnoxiously in love with you, so much that you and your friends have taken it as an inside joke for years, because you actually think he’s joking— he’s not—. So when you found yourself in a stupid situation where you need to find a fake boyfriend, Jungkook takes his chance.
Genre/Warning: fluff. eventually smut. crack/unfunny jokes. a little angst. fake dating trope; friends to lovers kinda shit. a lot of unfunny/dark/stupid dialogue and narration. i needed to write something more silly cuz i was dying with TF. 5-year-old jokes and a lot of bad references. jungkook is literally a loser in love. like he’s really down bad and a pathetic yearner. somebody give him a therapist and a coin for self-love pls. a lot of bts x reader messages and conversations. this is mostly for my entertainment. y/n is pretty mean sometimes but idc. pls bare with me. i wrote this in two weeks. for shit and giggles
If there was a world record for pretending to be okay, you were currently smashing it with a forced smile and a bruised ego.
The cafeteria was too bright for a Tuesday morning and far too loud for a woman who was trying, desperately, to act like she wasn’t watching her ex-boyfriend feed a piece of croissant to her work best friend… the woman was you, of course. And “work best friend”, well… At this point, you weren’t sure that label still applied.
You sat stiffly at your tiny table by the window, stirring a coffee you had no intention of drinking, pretending to scroll through emails as laughter drifted across the room like a punch you really should’ve dodged. Every few seconds you peeked up, unable to stop yourself, drawn in by the strange combination of self-inflicted torture and morbid fascination.
There they were.
Bogyum and Tsuki.
Two months ago, you and Bogyum had broken up, very amicably, maturely, with soft voices and an adult acknowledgment that your relationship had run its course. There had been no yelling, no throwing of belongings, no dramatic goodbye in the rain, just two adults sitting on your couch, deciding you were better off as friends.
It had hurt, of course. You don’t date someone for almost a year and walk away with nothing but a shrug. But it was a clean break, respectful and very gentle. Something that needed to happen. The pain was just nostalgia and a wish of something that could be everything but didn’t.
You had even said, “I hope you find someone amazing soon.”
Apparently, “soon” had been an understatement. And, apparently “hope” had been a lie of yours.
But of course! Who in the world would wish an ex to find someone in just two months?.
Because yes, just two months later he was there, feeding pieces of buttery pastry to Tsuki like some rom-com boyfriend in an aggressive display of moving on. Tsuki, your coworker. Tsuki, your morning-coffee buddy. Tsuki, the one who used to complain to you about men and who once cried into your office couch after a bad breakup.
Work besties were fake as hell.
You watched Tsuki blush as Bogyum leaned in to whisper something. And you knew it was probably something that he had whispered to you before. And the worst thing was… they looked happy. Stupidly happy. Laughing like they weren’t sitting in the same cafeteria where you had shared countless lunches with both of them.
But you weren’t angry. Of course not. You were just…
…Okay, no, you were definitely angry.
Not because you still wanted Bogyum. You didn’t. You had accepted that you simply weren’t right for each other and those romantic feeling weren’t there anymore. But because— really? Two months? With her? When you had been right there the whole time, unknowingly playing matchmaker by introducing them and joking that they’d probably get along better?.
Well, they clearly did!.
You had felt something back then. A weird little spark in the air you couldn’t place, a few too-long glances, a few too-quick dismissals. But you pushed it aside because you trusted both of them, because you believed in boundaries and girl code and the unspoken rule that your work bestie would tell you if something was… shifting.
Instead, you got blindsided in the fluorescent-lit hellhole of the company cafeteria.
The spoon clinked against your cup as you stirred with unnecessary aggression. You forced your eyes back to your phone. To your emails, schedules, the upcoming tour you were managing for the group you represented. The only thing keeping you sane these days.
“You look like you’re plotting something violent,” a voice said.
You didn’t startle, because you knew that voice. It was loud, teasing and familiar. It was Jung Hoseok, one of your best friends and a member of the group you were now representing, sliding into the chair across from you with a tray overflowing with food.
Hoseok— or Hobi as everyone liked to called him, including you— was one of your closest friends. You’ve met him almost a decade ago when you were starting in the business and after years of friendship and growing professionally, he was the one to recommend you for a new position at his company when you were looking for a change of heart.
Change of heart meaning change of company and a better salary with a better contract, of course. Which, honestly, you were thankful. Thanks to him you found it.
Behind him came Lena, part of their stage design team. You had been working with her over a year now and she was one of your others close friends at work. She sat beside Hoseok, blowing on her hot chocolate.
“You alright?” Lena asked, studying your face with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah,” you lied far too quickly.
Hobi followed your gaze across the cafeteria and let out a low whistle. “Oof. Yikes. That’s… bold.”
Lena elbowed him. “Don’t be an idiot.”
“What? I’m just saying… actually, no, I’m not saying anything. I’m shutting up.” He grabbed a muffin defensively. “Look at me shutting up.”
You exhaled through your nose, a sharp, shaky sigh. “It’s fine. Really.”
Hobi tilted his head. “You want me to start a small fire? Nothing serious, just a little chaos. A spilled drink near the electrical outlets maybe.” You snorted.
“That’s still serious,” Lena hissed. “Stop making her laugh about arson.”
Hoseok shrugged. “Arson solves many emotional problems.”
“Okay, Arson by J-hope.” You said jokingly. Despite yourself, a tiny smile cracked your face. “Don’t joke about it. You know I might do it.”
The artist took a large bite of his muffin and talked around it. “Okay, what about an escape plan. When do we leave for tour prep? I heard you’re kidnapping us early.”
“Yeah,” you jumped at the topic like it was a lifeline thrown into stormy waters. “The label wants you guys in tour-rehearsals sooner since we already have everything ready to be set. We’re starting next Monday. Full-day schedules, staging tests, media blocking, the whole mess. Since you already had the choreography and all that, we just need to accommodate the schedules and all of the technical shit.”
“Sounds fun,” he said.
“It’s not,” you replied flatly.
Lena laughed into her cup. “I’m excited. I love tour season. Everyone’s in chaos, sleep-deprived, and somehow more honest.”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Well, at least I’ll get a break from…”
Your gaze almost drifted across the room again. You were slowly going insane.
Hobi sensed the tension. “Oh… yeah. Them.”
A muscle in your jaw twitched. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m over him. It’s just… it’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Lena said softly. “But it will be.”
Your shoulders deflated a little. “Well at least this tour will help. I won’t have to see those fake bitches every day.” Hobi and Lena exchanged a look. “What?” you asked slowly.
Lena winced. “Honey…”
Hobi was less delicate. “They’re coming too.”
Your brain stopped for a full second. “…What?”
“You know Bogyum is part of the music direction team for the tour,” Hobi reminded gently.
“And Tsuki’s on wardrobe logistics,” Lena added.
No.
No, no, no.
“What? I thought he was just an engineer!”
“Yeah, exactly why we take him with us.” Hobi shook his head in disbelief of your stupidity.
“And her? I thought she was just making your looks for interviews!” You grabbed your head, feeling dizzy.
“She’s head of her department. She’s been in charge of our clothes for a time now.” He explained before frowning. “Girl, did you even pay attention when they talk?”
You ignored his last comment and blinked at them. Slowly, trying to accept the reality.
“So both of them… Both of them are coming.”
Lena nodded like she was delivering a terminal diagnosis. “For the whole tour cycle.”
Your soul left your body, walked into traffic, got hit by a bus, resurrected, and crawled back just to scream inside your chest.
You sat back in your chair. “I’m going to kill myself.”
Hobi laughed very loud, Lena hit your arm. “Don’t say that—”
“You know what I mean,” you groaned, dropping your forehead onto the table. “I’m being dramatic. Let me be dramatic. Please. I deserve it.”
“Drama is allowed,” Hobi said, patting your head like you were a cat. “Honestly, encouraged.”
You peeked up, face half-smushed against the table. “I can’t handle seeing them flirt every day. I’m barely surviving knowing they’d probably been fucking for weeks and I don’t even have a sex life anymore...”
“We really didn’t need to know that.”
“You could just ignore them,” Lena suggested weakly.
“I tried that. My eyeballs refuse to cooperate.”
Hobi laughed so dramatically, like always, he nearly spilled his orange juice.
You pressed your palms over your face, inhaled deeply through your fingers, and reminded yourself you were an adult. A professional. A capable manager of one of the biggest bands in the world— if not the biggest—. A woman who handled crises and egos and multi-million-dollar budgets with composure… but maybe you could not handle your ex feeding your work best friend a dry croissant like it was fucking caviar.
Beautiful, fantastic, it felt like a victory of modern womanhood.
Hobi finished eating and glanced at you with a suddenly serious expression. “Hey. For what it’s worth… it sucks. And you’re allowed to feel weird about it.”
Lena nodded. “It doesn’t mean you’re not over him. It just means you’re human.”
You swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat loosened a little. The jealousy was still palpitating really hard though.
“I know,” you murmured. “But they have the audacity because why the fuck are they doing that in front of me?.”
“You’re right about that.” Hoseok squeezed your hand like a kid. “Hey, we got you.”
“Are you gonna fired them for me?” You asked, your voice sweet as honey.
“Girl,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to answer your stupid question.
“Fuck you, you’re useless.” Hobi laughed, Lena looked at you like you were crazy for talking like that to a big superstar. You pushed your chair back, grabbing your bag and the big orange juice bottle Hobi barely touched. “Alright. Enough about this, I need to actually work. And I’m taking this drink with me.”
“Whatever,” Hobi perked up. “Oh! Speaking of work, Jungkook said he might swing by today.”
Your heart didn’t react— because it never did when someone mentioned Jungkook. He was… Jungkook. Loud, stupid, annoying… sweet. The guy who joked way too often about being “madly in love” with you and that was absolutely... unserious. It was all bits.
Ridiculous, unserious, unserious bits.
“And that includes me because…?” You frowned, confused.
“I don’t know,” Hobi shrugged. “He just wanted me to tell you. I think he might be passing by your office like he always does and it’s giving a heads-up.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “That man needs a hobby.”
“You are his hobby,” Hobi corrected, standing. “But it’s fine. It’s cute.
You waved him off and gathered your things. “It’s not, it’s concerning. Tell him to stop being pathetic.”
He grinned. “That’s like telling the ocean to stop being wet.” Lena snorted.
Together you walked out of the cafeteria, but as you passed the table where your ex and Tsuki sat, her laughter floated in the air again, light and bright and infuriating. Like she actually wanted you to hear.
Your stomach twisted. You forced your gaze forward, shoulders stiff, chin lifted, every step painfully stiff.
Two months.
Two. Fucking. Months.
And now you had to watch them hold hands and kissing each other all the way across the word on a tour you were in charge of… like you were planning their fucking honeymoon.
Great.
Perfect. Amazing. Fantastic.
You loved that for you. Yay!
As you pushed open the door to the hallway, you heard that irritating laugh again. You let out a long breath and muttered under your breath before turning around to that table.
“Fuck it. I’m going to kill them both.”
———————
BTS TOUR SCHEDULE — (group chat).
Hoseok: soo, how u doing @ y/n
Jimin: don’t start drama 😭
You: i’m about to kms
Taehyung: nooo don’t kys you’re so sexy hah 💔
Jungkook: real
Jungkook: (don’t call her sexy wtf)
You: yk when i got this job i thought my only love drama would be NOT having time to date
You: NOW I HAVE TO SEE THAT BITCH FACE ALL THE TOME WITH HUS NEE GIRL OMG
You: OMG OMG I WILL LITERALLY END MUSELF RN BYE
You: WHAT KIND OR KARMA ANI PAYIFN??
You: IS THIS BECAUSE MY DAD WAS UNFAITHFUL??
You: HESUS ISS LITERRALG NOT MY FAULT
Namjoon: she’s texting like ass again
Namjoon: she’s mad
Yoongi: you know, this is a group chat we created so you can send us tour info
Yoongi: the tour you’re clearly not working on
You: can u stfu?
You: can’t u see i’m about to put a bullet between my eyes?????
Yoongi: …..
Hoseok: well i have to admit it was pretty funny how you “accidentally” threw orange juice at them
Hoseok: can’t believe the security guard believe it????
You: well because it was clearly an accident???
Hoseok: you literally threw it from the other side of the cafeteria
Hoseok: crazy
Jin: wait that’s funny
You: IT ISNT NOW EVERYONE TGINKS IM A JEALOUS EX ANS THAT I HAVENT MOVE ON
Jin: well…
You: IM NOT JEALOUS AND I HAVEE MOVE ON
Namjoon: relax, it’s okay if you’re feeling mad but remember
Namjoon: you broke up 2 months ago, the fact that he’s dating someone doesn’t mean he won or something
Namjoon: like yes, everyone thinks you haven’t move on yet bc of the orange thing
Namjon: and yeah, you looked like you are still a crazy ex gf that hasn’t move on
Namjoon: and yeah, it looks like you’re insecure
Namjoon: specially since youre single
You: WHERE THE FUCJ ARE GOING WITH THIS!?
Namjoon: ok i actually forgot
Namjoon: im drunk
Jin: it’s 1pm?
Hoseok: damm is he in one of those depressing moods again?
Yoongi: how do i mute this chat?
Taehyung: i say beat his ass
Jungkook: YES
Taehyung: if my ex was dating my supposed “work bestie” two months after we broke up i would literally commit murder
Jimin: NOOO
Jimin: just be the mature person, show him u don’t care
You: ok
Jimin: good
You: i will kill him, her and then myself so i don’t go to jail
You: play kill bill by sza while im at it
Jin: is it ever that serious?
Jimin: jesus christ
You: stop acting like the bigger person
Jimin: i’m literally skinny idk wdym
You: give me a real good idea then
Jimin: hell no, ure literally psychotic
Jimin: i don’t joke around u anymore after THAT incident remember???
You: okay so i just kms then???
Yoongi: yes
Jimin: yes
You: damn men are literally so useless
You: thank you guys for NOTHING
You: now i have to see THOSE FUCKERS EVERYDAY ON TOUR, EBERY DUCKING DAY
You: AND HEAR PEOPLE TALKINF ABOUT HOW I HAVENT MOVE ONE BECAUSE IN NOT DATING ANYLNE
Hoseok: and because you threw orange juice at them
Hoseok: and bc you look at them with disgust
Hoseok: and because you called her a bitch behind her back
You: i was referring to him??
Taehyung: as she should tbh
Jungkook: why don’t you just date someone else?
Jungkook: someone else = me
Jimin: you’re so subtle wow
Namjoon: dating someone else doesn’t mean you’re over the relationship tho
Jungkook: are u my friend or enemy?
Namjoon: well she clearly doesn’t wanna date someone else
You: wait ure cooking
Namjoon: thanks. people need to stop thinking just because you’re not dating someone it means you’re not over the relationship
Namjoon: sometimes you just need to focus on yourself u know?
You: i meant jungkook is cookin
You: you can’t stfu forever drunkie
Yoongi: that’s not even a word?
You: you’re not even a word?
Yoongi: ???
Jungkook: WAIT FOR REAL?
You: yes
Jungkook: OMG OKAY OMG OMG
You: any of u knows a hot guy who will be into me?
Jungkook: OKAY I HAVE THE PERFECT DATE IDEA
Jungkook: WAIT
You: but like only for a couple of weeks until ppl see i clearly moved on and then i don’t have to date no one 4 a while
Jungkook: WTF
You: also it would be perfect if he has a visa
Jimin: go see a therapist pls
Jungkook: ME ME
Jungkook: I KNOW ME
Jungkook: i’m perfect for this role
Jungkook: ME
Jungkook: ME
Jungkook: YO
Jungkook: JE
Jungkook: I
You: tae introduce me to park bogum
Taehyung: he’s too good for u
You: fuck you?
Jungkook: ME
Jungkook: CHOSE ME
Taehyung: ?? i was just being honest
You: whatever
You: jimin give me taemin’s number @
Jimin: why would i do that to him?
Jungkook: ILL DO IT
Jungkook: MEEEE
You: u have taemins number?
Jungkook: NO WTF
Jungkook: ILL DATE YOU
You: okay u know what? fuck u guys
You: ure not help, ill go find someone by myself
Jin: good luck!!!
You: kys
Jungkook: i can’t do this anymore
———————
There were only two things on earth you truly hated at the moment: 1. Your ex’s stupid, smug face. And two, the conference room.
And today, unfortunately, you were stuck with both.
The room was too white, too bright, too corporate to be a space meant for creative teams. Whoever chose the lights deserved jail time. And whoever decided to schedule a “quick pre-tour briefing” four hours after you accidentally baptized your ex and your work ex-best-friend with orange juice deserved death by electric chair.
You sat at the long table, hair still slightly frizzy from stress, pretending to be busy typing on your laptop while the early arrivals trickled in. Deep breaths. New day. New meeting. Same suffering.
The first to enter was Hobi, who had been with you when you received that email after throwing that orange juice and who decided to run away when he saw the security guard trying to scold you.
“I have to say, great aim. Ten out of ten.” He applauded before taking a seat in front of you.
“Shut up before I kill you.”
The second to enter the room was Taehyung and Jimin who came in laughing like they already knew their presence would piss you off… which did.
“Hoseok send me the video—” Taehyung started.
“You recorded it?!” You screamed at him.
“I had to!”
“— And I gotta say, nine out of ten form. Points deducted because you didn’t hit them in the face with the bottle.” He said with laughter.
“You’re insane.” Jimin pointed at you. “Clinically.”
Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi entered the room next. You sighed, already annoyed by the comments they hadn’t make yet… Where was a damn gun when you needed it the most?.
God, you wished you were in the USA.
“Damn, you look like someone who’s seen war,” the older said, dropping into the chair beside you, on the left.
You didn’t look up. “I have. It’s called having a meeting with you all.”
Namjoon snorted. “Your aura is… crackling. Like you’re one minor inconvenience away from committing a light crime.”
You continued typing aggressively. “Define light.”
“Like, not prison but definitely community service.”
“That’s fair.” You looked at him. “Being drunk at work is also a light crime. Do you know that?.”
Namjoon looked away. You looked back at your laptop, satisfied.
Yoongi tried not to smile. “Why does the room feel… stabby today?”
“You’re all pissing me off,” you said between teeth.
The rapper glared at you now. “I’m literally just sitting.”
“Your presence pisses me off.”
“Your face pisses me off.”
“Your height pisses me off.”
“Hey, don’t be mean.” Hoseok called you out. “And don’t worry, they’re not coming. Lena came up with an excuse and send them to do some work. I told them management would send them this meeting by email.”
You threw your head back, almost relieved. “I love you so much.”
Before he could respond, the door burst open again. Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook, who walked into rooms like he forgot gravity applied to him. Jungkook, who looked like a bad boy out of a magazine but had the eyes and personality of a lost poodle puppy. Jungkook, who had confessed fake love for you so many times it had become an inside joke among the group.
Jungkook, who you were currently— always— ignoring on purpose.
“GOOD AFTERNOON MY BELOVED COLLEAGUES—” he began dramatically, then spotted you to sit next beside you, on your right. “—and sunshine angel of my existence.”
You didn’t even blink.
Jimin groaned. “Bro. Tone it down.”
Jungkook leaned forward to you like he was auditioning for the role of “irritating”.
“So,” he said brightly. “Have you thought more about the fake boyfriend situation?” You slammed your laptop shut so fast Jin jumped. Namjoon choked on air. Jungkook smiled, smug and unbothered. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Ignore him,” Hoseok whispered. “His brain is made of helium.”
You rubbed your face, irritated. “I am not discussing this here—” You raised your eyebrows. “— Unless Taehyung gives me Bogum number.”
“I won’t.”
“Come on,” you whined. “All the men I know are either emotionally unavailable, physically unavailable or jail candidates.”
Namjoon snorted. “What about that cute accountant on floor 5?”
“Married. With twins.”
“The intern?”
“Looks like he’s gonna cry every time he’s spoken to.”
“A random bar guy?”
“Last time I tried that I ended up giving relationship advice to someone blacked out.”
“…fair.”
“I volunteer,” Jungkook put his hands up. “I’m emotional and physically available. No jail records.”
“No.”
“My girl needs me. I need to help.”
“No. And I’m not your girl.”
“I’m very helpful.”
“No.”
“Come on,” he whined. “I’m handsome, charismatic, veeery kissable.”
“We didn’t ask any of that,” Yoongi made a disgusted face.
“Well, I’m involved anyway.” Jungkook gave him a look. “I already told the universe we’re soulmates. Feels rude for her not to catch up.”
“Please go away before I report you to HR.”
“Say you love me and I’ll consider it.”
“I’d rather drink bleach,” you glared at him. “Go away.”
Jungkook smiled at you. “Kinky.”
“I’m literally going to lose my mind because of you,” you told him. Slowly. Like you were warning him.
“Cool. I’ll drive you to the asylum.” He sighed, a dramatic-movie-sigh. “You make me lose my mind too. Maybe we can go together. That would be so romantic.”
“Stop trying to help.”
“I am helping,” he shrugged. “Let me be your boyfriend. Fake one. Real one. Soulmate one. I’m versatile.”
“Stop talking.”
You rolled your eyes so hard they almost went to the back of your head. You could handle many things but Jungkook trying to flirt when you were about to have a maniac episode was moving you to the edge of it. You stared past him, at the clock, at the wall, at the meaninglessness of existence, anywhere except his stupidly hopeful eyes.
More people trickled in: assistants, managers, a stylist, two producers, one social media manager, The room filled quickly, noise building, but Jungkook stayed laser-focused on you like an idiot with a crush the size of a continent.
You took out your phone. If you didn’t get a solution soon, you were going to implode. Group chats. Twenty messages from earlier. And then— A brilliant, terrible idea lit up in your brain like a criminal epiphany. A dating app. Not for actually looking for someone to date. No, no. For a temp boyfriend… well, maybe a hook-up. That wouldn’t hurt no one. Or a prop. A human shield.
You started installing the app.
Jungkook watched you with narrowed eyes, immediately recognizing that spark in your face. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing something.”
You raised your chin. “I’m downloading a dating app.”
The collective reaction was immediate: Taehyung froze mid-scroll. Hoseok snapped his head around. Yoongi mouthed ‘wow’. Even one of the producers looked interested in the conversation.
Jungkook looked personally offended by the universe. “You’re WHAT?” he sputtered. “Why?!”
You shrugged, casual, smug, destructive. “To find a fake boyfriend.”
“You can’t just find a fake boyfriend on a dating app,” Hoseok said, horrified and fascinated.
“Watch me.”
“Oh my God,” Jimin whispered, delighted. “She’s unwell.”
Jungkook looked like you had stabbed him with a knife. Repeatedly.
“A dating app?!” he repeated, voice cracking like a heartbroken teen in a high school musical. “You’d rather find a STRANGER than me? ME?! I already submitted my résumé! I’m pre-approved!”
You lifted a hand without looking at him. “Shh. I’m working.”
“NO, YOU’RE SELF-DESTRUCTING,” he said, looking over your shoulder to watch your phone. “This is a cry for help.” You opened the app, creating your profile. Jungkook stared in betrayal. “Pick me,” he muttered under his breath, dramatic and pathetic. “Choose me. Love me.”
“Grey’s Anatomy isn’t a personality,” you deadpanned before pushing him slightly so he wouldn’t be that close to you.
“YOU USED TO SAY I WAS YOUR MCDREAMY—”
“Never in my life did I say that nor watched that show.”
The meeting hadn’t even started and you already wanted to walk into the ocean and drowned yourself.
Jin leaned closer. “So… what are you writing on your profile?”
“I don’t know. Something honest.”
Yoongi laughed loudly. “You? Honest? No offense but I’ve seen you smile at people you hate.”
You ignored him and began typing:
“Looking for someone hot to be my temporary boyfriend for a long event around the world. Must have a pulse, visa and the ability to lie convincingly.”
Taehyung cackled. “Dude, you’re going to attract criminals.”
“Perfect,” you muttered. “Criminals can lie and they don’t ask questions.”
Jungkook slammed his palm on the table. “THIS IS INSANE. I AM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE.”
You looked at him blankly. “And I am literally ignoring that.”
“I am a fantastic fake boyfriend!”
“You’re too much work.”
“I come housebroken!”
“That’s fucking disgusting. I would rather date a damn dolphin.”
Jungkook flinched like you’d stabbed him again. “That hurt more than the last rejection,” he muttered. “You know exactly what dolphins are capable of. You’re a monster, that hurt me.”
“Probably not more than that orange juice disaster.” Hoseok muttered.
“Hold on.” Jungkook stopped his act suddenly. “Did you actually throw it at your ex?”
“It was an accident!” You defend yourself immediately.
Yoongi snorted. “Define accident.”
“Okay, picture this,” you said, leaning back. “I was sitting. Minding my business. Drinking my coffee. They started giggling. GIGGLING. And then my hand slipped into Hobi’s juice.”
“You flung an entire bottle to them. Like eight meters apart,” Hoseok clarified.
“Yes. Accidentally.”
Jungkook smiled like you had just given him a reason to live. “My girl is so unhinged. It’s beautiful. She’s crazy but I get her. Only I get her. We’re meant to be because of that.”
“Stop flirting,” you hissed.
“I’m not flirting,” he said proudly. “I’m manifesting.”
You rolled your eyes again so hard you saw your past lives.
At the front of the room, the tour manager cleared her throat.
“Alright, everyone. Let’s get started—”
But Jungkook leaned in one more time, whispering so loud even the guy from the other corner of the table could hear:
“You know dating apps are dangerous, right? What if the fake boyfriend you find is a psychopath?”
“Then I’ll finally meet someone who understands me.” You whispered back.
Hoseok choked on laughter. Taehyung slapped his thigh. Yoongi finally giggled. Jungkook stared at you like you were the love of his life and the bane of his existence at the same time.
“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t pick a stranger.”
You clicked ‘done’ at your profile without looking at him.
“I’ll pick whoever I want.”
Jungkook sat back, jaw tight, eyes burning with a deadly combination of jealousy, heartbreak, and pure determination. “Oh,” he murmured, “I’m getting that job.”
“What job?” Taehyung asked.
Jungkook didn’t look away from you. “My future role as her fake boyfriend who becomes her husband.”
You pretended you didn’t hear that. Like always.
Shit, it almost felt like a second job ignoring Jungkook’s comments. Specially those last two months when you became single again.
———————
BTS TOUR SCHEDULE — (group chat).
You: guys i had a date last night
Jungkook: i’m gonna kill myself
Jungkook: why would you tell me that?
You: I said guys not just Jungkook
You: and i need an advice
Namjoon: about what
Jungkook: did u have fun?
Jungkook: let me know if you have a 2nd date so i can go and shot myself in the head
You: anyway
You: so the date went great but at the end of the night he made this weird comment that threw me off a little
Jin: what?
Yoongi: did he tell you about that thing in ur eyes?
You: he told me i would be perfect if i were french???
You: like wtf is that supposed to mean
You: like????
You: bitch i’m level 5 in duolingo fucking try me
You: La pomme est rouge
You: wait
Hoseok: “you would be perfect if you were french” a fate worse than death 💔💔
You: what thing about my eyes???
Jimin: thats ur mistake for going out with a french guy
Jungkook: right??? like why would you WILLINGLY go out with a french guy?
Namjoon: i saw the pics so i get it
Jungkook: don’t take her side
Yoongi: lol
You: yoongi what thing about my eyes?
Jungkook: he hates u, i heard french people hate women
You: rumours rumours
You: or as the french would say rumours rumours
Yoongi: ?
You: that last one was with a french accent but i can’t write it so…
You: anyway enemies to lovers trope here i go
You: btw what thing about my eyes?
Jungkook: are you actually going on another date with him?
You: well no he later told me he was into cars but in that crazy way
Taehyung: waitttt
You: next morning i was running away fast as flash
Hoseok: mechanophilia kind of shit?
Jin: how tf do you know how is it called?
Hoseok: i be knowing things
Yoongi: weird
You: hi, can you tell me what thing about my eyes pls?
Namjoon: wait, next morning?
You: oh uhmmmmmm
You: hahahaha
You: ehmmmm
You: lol
Jungkook: NEXT MORNING
Jungkook: NEXT MRONIGN OOMMGGG DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM??!?
Jungkook: I CANT BREATHE
Jungkook: GYYS HELP EMME I CANT BREATHR
Jin: honestly, if you slept with him and he ends up trying to convert you into a car that’s on you
You: well i didn’t so now what?
Jin: i will make up a reason and report back
Jungkook: so you disnt sleep with him’?
You: no, we just kiss a little
You: all night
Jungkook: i’m dead
Yoongi: disgusting tbh
You: WHAT THING ABLUT MY EYESA
Jimin: i can’t believe you WILLINGLY kissed a guy that has melancholy and that is french
Hoseok: thats not-
Jimin: like that’s crazy ash, imagine talking with someone and he’s like front lights, motors 🤤
Jungkook: right?? 😭
Jimin: like oh i have melatonin let me fuck a car??? crazy
Namjoon: are we shaming people now?
Jin: don’t even try to defend that condition
Hoseok: sexual orientation ❤️
Yoongi: you’re all weird
You: kink shaming is not right guys 💔💔
You: also, you all have weird shit going on too sooo you can’t be talking
Jungkook: AT LEAST I DONT SANNA FUCK CARS WTF
Taehyung: i fucked in a car once
You: and no one gave a fuck
Jin: why are you going on dates anyway?
You: i literally talked about this last week with you guys??
You: i’m looking for my fake boyfriend
You: or the loml now
You: whoever comes first
You: i’m back in the market, tell ur friends (bogum) yayy
Jungkook: looking for the love of ur life n french people??
You: WHATS WRONG EOTH FRENCH PEOPLE???
Taehyung: i love france
You: i love france too 😍😍
You: can you give me bogum’s number pls pretty pls
Jungkook: i’m frenchphobic now
Yoongi: baguette?
Hoseok: careful, you’ll scare him
You: hi yoongi can you tell me what thing about my eyes
Namjoon: no cuz why would you be scared of french people???
Jin: i get it
You: moving on
Jungkook: are u gonna see him again?
You: i already said no
Jungkook: good
You: let my BE CLEAR
You: my decision bc i won’t date mechanic guys
Jimin: at least u have some sense, who hookups with a megaphone??
Hoseok: sighsss
Hoseok: i wrote it before how can you get it wrong again
Taehyung: anyway now we can move on ❤️
Jungkook: she KISSED someone else
Jungkook: HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO MOVE ON????
You: moving on
You: this dating thing is not working out
Namjoon: u just went on ONE date
You: yeah and didn’t work out??
You: i think i might need to actually kill them??
You: i have to see them again tomorrow at that fuckass meeting
You: i can’t do it
Yoongi: u mean the IMPORTANT meeting about OUR tour
You: yeah that stupid shit
You: AND THEN I HAVE to go to the lunch group with them
Taehyung: well most of us are too so u are not alone yayy
You: idgaf I NEED A PLANNN
You: i’ll just quit
You: so guys this is my formal resignation letter, thank u for the opportunity it meant a lot to me. wishing u the best!! go army saranghee💙
Hoseok: you literally have to talk to HR??? we’re not the ones who hired you??
Jimin: also wtf is that blue heart
You: army?
Taehyung: bitch borahae??? I PURPLE YOU??? ARE U SERIOUS??
You: well very vague
You: 💜
You: there u go
You: i’m still giving that resignation letter
You: you all can dieee
You: unless @ tae gives me Bogum’s number
You: …
You: no?
You: okay fucking die all of you
Yoongi: get a grip challenge
———————
If hell had a lobby, it would look exactly like HYBE’s building cafeteria at 6PM: buzzing, fluorescent, humming with forced cheer of exhausted industry workers pretending they weren’t two inches from burnout. You actually survived the meeting. Barely. And now the “quick hangout” that followed— which, in reality, meant everyone decompressing in the big salon while pretending to bond— was your reward. Or your punishment. The line between both had never been thinner.
Your iced tea sat in front of you, untouched.
Not orange juice. Never orange juice again.
Around you, staff members moved in clumps: editors talking to stylists, choreographers chatting with PR people, the dancers somewhere arguing about whether boba tea should be considered a meal. Normal end-of-day chaos.
You sat at a table with three tour staffers and Hoseok. He was in the middle of explaining some lighting malfunction of last year by using four napkins, two salt packets, and a fork when you felt it… the drop in temperature. The shift. The prickling at the back of your neck. A disturbance in the force.
You didn’t even have to turn. You already knew who had appeared.
“Hey… is this seat taken?”
Bogyum. And Tsuki.
Your ex-boyfriend and your work ex–best friend. The Orange Juice Victims.
Fantastic. Great. Amazing, really amazing.
You should’ve chugged poison instead of iced tea.
The three tour guys left immediately with a poor excuse. Hoseok, sensing drama, immediately sat up straighter, like a kid in class suddenly told there would be a surprise exam. In the other table behind your ex boyfriend you saw Taehyung subtly elbowed Jimin, who widened his eyes like this was the best entertainment he’d in months. But they weren’t the only ones watching, you felt dozens of discreet glances from other tables. People trying not to stare but absolutely staring. Whispering behind iced matchas. Pretending to scroll on phones while eavesdropping harder than FBI surveillance.
Bogyum stood awkwardly with a stiff smile. Tsuki twirled the end of her hair, a nervous tic you used to tease her about.
“So,” He said again, softer this time. “Can we… sit?”
Your lips stretched into a controlled, polite smile. “Sure.”
Kill me.
Fucking kill me.
End my life.
You begged God, if it was listening, that he could take you now. Heaven or hell, you could work with any of that. Both were better than staying there.
Bogyum took the seat across from you. Tsuki sat next to him. They were sitting close. Very close. Their knees almost touched under the table. Cute. Adorable. Disgusting. You wanted to throw up. Hoseok looked at you like: Holy shit. Taehyung looked at you like: Do you need me to stab them?. Jimin looked at them like: I can actually see it. You wanted to slap him. Him and the two people in front of you.
You could feel Tsuki’s soft inhale, her cautious voice tiptoeing between kindness and guilt. “So… how are you?”
“I’m great,” you said immediately. Too quickly. Too brightly. Like someone who was absolutely not great. “Amazing, actually.”
Bogyum nodded like he didn’t believe a single syllable. Tsuki tried a small smile.
“That’s good. You look… good.”
“Thanks,” you said, sipping your iced tea to avoid punching a wall. “You guys look… showered.”
They blinked. Hoseok nearly choked.
Tsuki forced a laugh, delicate and unsure. “So, about… last week—”
You cut in instantly, hands lifting in a casual wave. “Oh my god, no, no, don’t worry about that. Totally my fault.”
She blinked. “It is?”
“Absolutely,” you said with the confidence of a politician lying on camera. “I was just, you know, messing around with Hobi.” You gestured toward him; he froze like a criminal caught on tape. “We were joking, and I moved too fast, and— poof! orange juice everywhere.”
Bogyum eyebrows knitted. “Messing around with Hobi?”
“Yep.” You smiled, teeth and all. “We do that. We clown around. Like children. Very playful.”
Hoseok looked like he’d never played a day in his life in that moment. He was so bad at lying, he was dying inside.
Tsuki tilted her head, gentle but searching. “Are you sure? I just… if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell us, right?”
“Oh my god,” you said again, laugh airy and borderline manic. “Why would anything be bothering me?”
Even if they couldn’t hear you, you knew the entire cafeteria collectively thought: We know exactly why.
Bogyum’s tone was careful. His you’re-lying-but-I’m-trying-to-be-nice voice. “Well… people are talking.”
A flicker of irritation sparked behind your ribs. Of course they were. You had been the idiot who launched a citrus grenade at two people in public. You were surprised it wasn’t trending on Twitter by how many people in the company knew your name because of that by now.
“Yeah, I’ve heard some things,” you said breezily, examining your nails like you weren’t seconds away from snapping. “But everything’s fine.”
Tsuki leaned in slightly. “Really? Because… I mean. We didn’t want things to be weird.”
“They’re not weird,” you lied easily. “Not even a little. Why would it be weird? Because my work best friend is dating my ex-boyfriend after two months since we broke up and they didn’t tell me anything?” You snorted. “Not weird at all. Happens a lot.”
They shared a look. You pressed your lips together. There was a minute of silence.
“Things kind of felt weird when we walked in,” she murmured.
“That’s because Hoseok has a face people stare at,” you said, patting his shoulder. He looked wildly offended. “He’s very symmetrical and uncanny. It’s suspicious.”
Bogyum exhaled slowly, like he’d gathered all his courage for his next question. “We just want to make sure you’re okay with… you know… us.”
You wanted to flip the table. Or fling this iced tea at them and call it a pattern. You could say maybe you had a bad muscle, it just twitches sometimes!. But instead you didn’t. You shrugged. Cool. Unbothered. A menace with grace.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? You guys are dating. I’m dating. It’s all good.”
Dead silence.
Hoseok’s water bottle dropped to the floor. Tsuki’s eyebrows shot up. Bogyum blinked twice.
“You’re…” he repeated. “You’re dating someone?”
“Oh, no. I have to clean that. I’ll be right back.”Hoseok left.
You almost said no, that you were lying. Almost. But then the ghost of humiliation passed through you. All the whispers, all the pitying looks, all the “poor girl, dumped and replaced”, “of course she created a fake-boyfriend.” The two-month turnaround. The betrayal. The audacity. The jealousy. The whispers that you haven’t moved on. The pity. The whispers that you were a crazy ex.
And your mouth betrayed your brain.
“Yeah. Totally dating.”
Bogyum exchanged a glance with Tsuki. Shocked, curious, maybe worried you’d picked someone worse than him… unlikely; your bar was low, but not subterranean.
“Oh,” he said, leaning forward with genuine interest. “Do we know him?”
Your brain told you to lie. LIE. LIE NOW. LIE HARD. Your mouth was faster. Thinking that if you took time to think they would discover it’s a lie which caused you a lot of tongue twisters.
“Do you, huh, know him?. You… like— know him?”
Tsuki’s eyes narrowed, confused. “…Do we?”
You hummed. “What?”
Bogyum lifted a brow. “He works here?”
“Like… work? He worked. No, he works. Present, not past. He’s not jobless. He has a job, he’s working. A working man. He definitely works, he’s—“ You said, sweat forming at the back of your neck. “— Around. He’s around. In the… vicinity.”
Taehyung buried his face in his hands. Jimin rubbed his face with embarrassment. Hoseok appeared between both of them, trying not to laugh.
You ex tilted his head. “What does he do?”
“He…” you said, stalling, staring at the table like it would reveal a career for your imaginary lover. “He does… things. Yeah, for sure he does.”
“Things,” he repeated flatly.
“Yes.”
Tsuki tried to be supportive. “Like what kind of things?”
Bogyum frowned. “Do we actually know him?.”
You opened your mouth, about to make up some ridiculous profession like underwater welder or alpaca chiropractor to tell them that they in fact don’t know him… When a shadow fell over the table. A familiar voice, smooth and painfully self-satisfied, said:
“Well, of course you know me.”
The three of you looked up at the same time. Bogyum was shocked. Tsuki was speechless. You were dying internally, very slowly.
Jungkook stood there, hands the pockets of his jacket, casual as hell, smiling like the world’s most annoying guardian angel.
“Jungkook?” Bogyum and Tsuki said together, surprised.
The singer placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning slightly in with a smirk that should be illegal. “Babe,” he said, way too comfortably, “you didn’t tell them about us?”
You whispered through clenched teeth without moving your smile just so he could see you. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jungkook whispered back: “Saving your psycho ass. Now play along.”
You turned back to Bogyum and Tsuki, laugh loud and fake and borderline terrifying.
“Ha! Yes! Jungkook!” you said, patting his arm aggressively. “My man! My boyfriend! My… male partner of romance!”
Jungkook winced. Bogyum and Tsuki stared between you two, utterly confused.
Jungkook didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been keeping it low-key. You know how she is.”
Tsuki blinked. “How… she is?”
Jungkook smiled fondly at you like you were the love of his life and not someone who threatened his existence daily. “Chaotic. Impulsive. Adorable. A danger to society.” You stepped on his foot under the table. Hard. He kept smiling. “See that face? So cute.” He looked at them. “But it’s better if we keep it in the low, you know? The media can be very hard, I don’t want my pookie-princess to get hurt.”
Pookie-princess.
You were going to stab him to death. You were going to jail today.
Jungkook didn’t flinch, not even when you basically tried to amputate his foot through his shoe. He just kept smiling like this was the best day of his life. Like crashing your lie was a hobby. Like he’d trained for this moment since birth.
Bogyum cleared his throat, visibly trying to process everything. “So… uh… you two are… together?”
“Yep!” you said at the exact same moment Jungkook said, “Obviously.”
You two looked at each other for 0.2 seconds. Your eyes threatening murder, his sparkling like a golden retriever who found a new toy. Then you both turned back to your ex and his girlfriend with awkward synchronized smiles.
Tsuki pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking genuinely confused. “Wow, I mean… I didn’t even know you guys were that close.”
“We are,” Jungkook said smoothly. “Very close.”
He dropped his hand onto your shoulder. You elbowed him. He squeezed your shoulder like, Be normal. You squeezed his hand back like, Die.
Bogyum nodded slowly, still trying to compute the ridiculousness in front of him. “Right. Yeah. I mean, that’s… great. Really great.” His tone changed a little, it seemed a little unbelievable, annoyed. “You’re dating Jeon Jungkook. Wow, great.”
“Super great,” you said, overcompensating so hard your voice cracked.
You didn’t notice the change of tone of your ex-boyfriend but the singer definitely did. Jungkook chuckled softly under his breath, the ‘I’m enjoying this far too much’ chuckle before kissing your cheek, looking at the guy.
Tsuki tilted her head with gentle curiosity. “So, how long have you… been dating?”
Your brain went static. Completely blank. Like someone pulled the plug out of the wall. You opened your mouth. Nothing. Jungkook didn’t even hesitate.
“Two months,” he said.
Two months.
TWO MONTHS.
You whipped your head toward him so fast you nearly sprained your neck. “Two…”
Jungkook overlapped you, smoothly placing a hand over your forearm. “Yeah. Two. You know how she gets with timelines,” he said, speaking directly to Tsuki with a little laugh. “She always forgets when things start because everything is just a whirlwind. She’s a very busy and hardworking woman.”
You could feel your soul leaving your body.
“Two… months,” Bogyum repeated, nodding like he was trying to force the math to math. “So that means you were… together during our breakup?”
“Oh my god— no.” you blurted, horrified. “No, no, no. He means… like… we started getting close then. We got serious recently. Those two months were just us talking. Just talking. You know. Conversations. Like adults. Not romantic. Nothing romantic. Romance is dead—”
“Babe,” Jungkook interrupted with a soft laugh that made you want to stab him, “don’t scare them.”
Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin were across the other table experiencing this like front-row seats to the apocalypse. Taehyung had both hands on his mouth, trying not to cackle. Hoseok looked like he was about to record the entire thing for future enjoyment. Jimin whispered something like “this is super fun” to them. They all nodded.
Tsuki, still polite, still nervous, still sweet, smiled softly. “We’re happy for you both. Really. This just… it’s surprising.”
“Yeah,” you said. “I guess it was it was the same for you guys. Two months after our breakup and, boom! you two together. Very, really very, surprising.”
Jungkook elbowed you discreetly. “She means surprising in a good way. Right, baby?”
Baby. You stepped in his foot again. This time he hissed very quietly.
Tsuki leaned forward with genuine concern. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t have to pretend with us, you know?.”
“Pretend what?” you chuckled, confused and a little scared they could see the lie though you.
“I mean… you and… Jeon Jungkook.” She said.
You froze for a moment. Your eyebrows slightly frowning at the comment. Was she trying to say that you couldn’t pull Jeon Jungkook?.
What the fuck?
“She’s not pretending,” Jungkook said before you could say something else. His tone shifted, soft but firm, annoyingly sincere. “She’s good. I promise. We’re really happy. I am really happy.”
And for a split second, half a breath, you felt something weird in your chest. Annoying. Warm. Like he actually cared. Like he was actually your friend. After so long of pure bits it really felt like the first time he was actually being a friend to you, he was actually backing you up. Ugh. Disgusting. Flush it immediately. He was being a good friend. It made you feel like you could trust him. Like Hoseok… even if he had ran away like a damn pussy.
“Well, you were always flirting with her when we were together.” Bogyum recalled. “I thought it was a joke—”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Jungkook cut him off, shaking his head. “I didn’t actually try anything while you two were together.” A egocentric smirk slowly creeped into his face. “It was right after.”
Silence.
You didn’t know what to say.
What the fuck?.
“Well.” Tsuki clasped her hands together, relief warming her face. Trying to also ignore the tension growing between Bogyum and Jungkook. “We just wanted to check. And apologize. If the timing was weird or too soon, we—”
“Too soon?” you echoed loudly. “Oh no. No, no, no. Love is never too soon. I’m great. Better than great. Look at me.!” You gestured to yourself aggressively. “I’m thriving. We’re thriving.”
“She is,” Jungkook nodded solemnly. “We are.”
She offered a tiny, careful smile. “We’re glad you’re okay.”
“Oh, I’m better than okay—”
“—she’s wonderful,” Jungkook finished for you in that stupid smooth voice. Cutting you off so you could stop shovelling your grave. “Really. Happiest I’ve seen her. Like me when I’m with her.”
And the crazy thing? He didn’t sound sarcastic. Or smug. He sounded… confident. Certain. Like he meant it. You stared at him for a second too long before snapping back to reality and looking at the two people in front of you.
Tsuki nudged Bogyum. “We should get going. We have that dinner soon.”
“Oh— right.” He rose from his seat, giving you a small, complicated smile. Something soft. Something… uncomfortable. “See you around.”
“Of course.”
“And… congratulations.”
“Thanks,” you said, smile stiff.
Jungkook leaned slightly toward you, brushing his hand over yours like a man deeply in love. You internally screamed in curses. Bogyum and Tsuki walked away, whispering to each other. Glancing back twice. Still obviously confused.
When they were out of earshot, Hoseok exploded.
“NO WAY,” he shouted, slamming the table before walking to yours. “NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED. WHAT WAS THAT? WHY WAS THAT? I’M— I’M SWEATING.”
Jimin wiped tears of laughter. “I can’t breathe. I literally can’t breathe.”
Taehyung clasped his hands like he’d witnessed divine intervention. “I believe in romance again.”
You whipped toward Jungkook, pushing him away. “You motherfuck— What the hell was that?”
Jungkook casually grabbed the iced tea you weren’t drinking and took a sip. “That,” he said, “was me saving your life.”
“Saving? Saving?!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, yelling in whispers. “You just signed me up for a relationship I didn’t ask for!”
He shrugged, infuriatingly relaxed. “You lied first.”
“You didn’t have to join in!”
“You were drowning,” he said simply. “I wasn’t gonna let you flop in front of them like a dying fish. My girl is not a loser.”
“I was not flopping!” You groaned. “And I’m not a loser!.”
“So you’re my girl?” He smirked.
“You were absolutely flopping,” Hoseok confirmed.
“Big flop energy,” Jimin added.
Taehyung nodded solemnly. “I respect your flop.”
You ignored them all, glaring at Jungkook so hard the air should’ve caught fire.
“I will kill you,” you said slowly. “You’re crazy.”
He leaned down, lowering his voice just enough so only you could hear. “Takes one to know one.” You opened your mouth, ready to yell, strangle, insult, all of the above, but Jungkook placed a hand lightly on your wrist. “Walk with me,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I know that look,” he said calmly. “You’re about three seconds away from a meltdown.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.”
“Definitely are.”
“Major meltdown aura.”
You inhaled deeply through your nose, trying to control yourself. You gave the other members a middle finger. Jungkook nodded toward the hallway.
“Come on.”
You wanted to refuse. You wanted to declare independence from Jeon Jungkook’s stupidity and swagger.
But you also didn’t want to explode in front of half the company. So you stood, grabbed your phone, and stormed off. Jungkook followed, hands in pockets, too calm, too smug, too… himself. You didn’t stop until you two were in the quiet hallway, away from lingering staff, away from whispers, away from the after-meeting buzz.
Then you rounded on him.
“Okay, talk.” You demanded.” What was that for?”
Jungkook blinked once, like you were incredible stupid. “You said you were dating someone.”
“I was obviously lying!.”
“I obviously know.”
“So why pretend it’s you?!”
He shrugged. “Why not me?”
You threw your hands up. “Jungkook—.”
He stepped closer, not too close, just enough so you could actually look at him. He lowered his voice. “You were panicking,” he said softly. “They were cornering you. And you looked like you were about to combust. I helped.”
“That’s not helping. You’re doing this for your stupid bit—”
“You needed someone,” he said, cutting you off, now more firmer. “And I was there. That’s all.” Your throat tightened for reasons you refused to examine. Jungkook watched your face for a moment, analyzing. Eyes warm, steady, annoyingly beautiful and angry. Then he smiled, lopsided and knowing and infuriating. “Besides,” he added, “you could’ve said no.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You could’ve said, ‘No, not him. Anyone but him.’ But you didn’t.”
“I— that—” you stuttered. “I had no time to think!”
Jungkook smirked. “Mhm.” You punched his arm. He laughed. “Look,” he said, leaning back against the wall, casual again. “We can fix this. We’ll tell them it didn’t work out. Easy.”
Your heart sank… Because absolutely not.
Everyone would think you couldn’t maintain a relationship. And if you told Bogyum and Tsuki the truth… They’d think you lied out of jealousy. Out of desperation. Out of heartbreak. They’d think you couldn’t move on. That you couldn’t handle them being together. You pressed your lips together. Everyone would think that.
Jungkook saw your hesitation. His head tilted slightly. You groaned in frustration. “Well, of course now I can’t!”
“You want to keep it,” he said quietly.
“Are you stupid? Everyone would think I can’t keep a relationship. And if I told anyone I was lying I would look pathetic.” You swallowed. “So pathetic.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said.
“Of course I would. Everyone already thinks I’m a jealous bitch I haven’t move on…”
“Well—”
“I have move on!,” you exclaimed again, he snorted. “And also, if anyone finds out you are dating someone, specially my boss, I’m gonna get fired… or worse! It’ll get leaked and I would be haunted by your fans for eternity.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s my life. I can date whoever I want.”
“Fake dating.”
“Whatever you want.”
“And not, you can’t because if this leaks and I have your fans stalking me I would literally commit suicide.”
“It won’t happen,” Jungkook reassured you this time. Sensing your panicking. “Everyone is under a contract here. Nobody will say anything.” He shrugged. “Besides, it would be just for a while. Right?.”
You exhaled, looking at him.
Jeon jungkook. Annoying and so damn obnoxious Jeon Jungkook. The person who also saved your pride and ego. The man who was helping you. You didn’t know exactly if this was for his bit of being “in love” with you or if he was just being a good friend.
Honestly, you didn’t care that much which option was. You knew you needed his help anyway after what had happened.
But… God, he was so annoying.
“Shit,” you exhaled with frustration.
You could think of the three thousand reasons why you didn’t want his help. And only one reason for why actually you need it.
Oh, your damn pride.
Jungkook paused, looking at you losing your mind in silence. He didn’t let you go on more. “Okay, I’m in.”
You stared. “In… what?”
He smiled. “I’ll be your boyfriend.” You opened your mouth to argue but nothing came out. Jungkook added, with a shrug: “Fake one, obviously. Unless—”
“Stop.”
He laughed softly. “Okay. Fake.”
You dragged your hands down your face. “This is insane.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But weirdly fun.”
You glared. “This isn’t fun.”
Jungkook reached a hand out, offering it like a pact. “You want to do this or not?”
Your heart sprinted. Your brain malfunctioned. Your pride screamed no. Absolutely not. You stared at his hand for a long moment. And then, with the worst idea you’d had in a long list of terrible ideas, you took it.
“Fine,” you said. “But you follow my rules.”
Jungkook grinned. “Baby, I love when you pretend you’re in charge.”
You shoved him and he laughed again.
And just like that, completely unintentionally, fully unplanned, and with a man who lived for making your life incredibly annoying… you got yourself a fake boyfriend.
And Jungkook… Well, he took a chance.
a/n:
sooo new fic!! i wrote this back in september of 2025 while editing temporary fragments. just going back to my roots of editing my silly little fics while i write other things too >_<
i hope you enjoyed this intro/the idea of the story. ik this might be too long to be an intro but idc. this one is literally for shit and giggles so if i made u chuckle ill take it 🫦
also how the fuck do you guys make those fake chats ss? 😭 like i spent hours trying to find good app but i couldn’t/i have to pay like helpp
i might be doing a taglist for the first chapter so let me know if any of you want to be in it!!
please don't forget to support the amazing writers behind them!
part one
4-7-8 | series | married couple, husband!jk, angst, jealousy, first love, marriage issues, miscommunication, yearning, hurt/comfort
you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.
eveything in you | f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader, ex!bf jimin, smut (mdi)
you want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help.
depend on me | hybrid au, friends to lovers, roommates au, oblivious!jk, overprotective!jk, smut (mdi)
you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind
long way home | single dad jk, boxer!jk, friends to lovers, angst! | one of my favorites!!
jungkook's life makes an 180 degree turn when he's suddenly a single dad and while you're trying to help him come accustomed to the new circumstances, your long-standing friendship takes new turns as well.
cornflower blue | established relationship, fluff & smut, soft!dom jk, praise, fingering, dirty talk, creampie | mdi !!
nights were your favorite time with your boyfriend. the nights where you laid in bed together, tangled up in each other without any thoughts of the real world.
cry for me | husband!jk, fluff & smut, soft!dom jk, dacryphilia, overstimulation, praise kink, oral, fingering, creampie, cockwarming, smut (mdi)
lazy sunday mornings with your husband always end the same way: jungkook taking care of you, praising you through every tear and reminding you how much he loves you.
after a long night taking care of your baby, your husband notices how exhausted you are and makes it his mission to help you relax, reminding you how loved and appreciated you are.
home | fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, depressed!reader, green flag!jk, lovesick!jk, confessions, fluff & smut (mdi)
after disappearing for a week and shutting everyone out, you end up at jungkook’s apartment. what starts as comfort between friends with benefits turns into long-overdue confessions, reassurance, and a love neither of you can hide anymore.
timing | series | exes to lovers, second chance, parent au, ceo!jk, angst, fluff, smut (mdi), slow burn, emotional growth, family, happy ending.
after years of loving each other at the wrong moments, you and jungkook keep finding your way back together. through heartbreak, missed chances, growing pains, and unexpected twists, you're forced to ask yourselves one question: if you're meant for each other, was it ever about love—or simply about timing?
shatter with me | mini-series | surrogacy au, model!jk, best friend's husband, forbidden love, pregnancy, infidelity, divorce, heavy angst, slow burn, smut (mdi)
when you agree to become a surrogate for your best friend and her husband, you think you're helping them build the family they've always dreamed of. but as buried secrets come to light and their marriage begins to crumble, you're forced to confront feelings that should have never existed in the first place.
coquet | series | escort!jk, fake dating au, strangers to lovers, wedding au, jealous ex, family drama, angst, fluff, smut (mdi) | this is one of my favorites 4everrrrrr
when you're forced to attend your brother's wedding alongside an ex you never truly got over, hiring an escort seems like the perfect solution. what begins as a simple arrangement soon becomes something much more complicated when jungkook starts feeling less like a stranger and more like someone you never want to let go of.
will it fit? | roommate au, roommate!jk, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, size kink, soft!dom jk, comedy, fluff, smut (mdi), confession
after your roommate catches you in a series of increasingly embarrassing situations, a conversation about a certain dildo spirals into confessions, unresolved tension, and the realization that you've both been crushing on each other for much longer than either of you thought.
under the blankets | boyfriend!jk, established relationship, tattooed couple, body worship, teasing, overstimulation, rough sex, aftercare, fluff & smut (mdi)
what starts as a quiet morning spent admiring each other's tattoos quickly turns into a heated reminder of just how obsessed you and jungkook are with one another.
daddy issues | older!jk, best friend's dad, age gap, forbidden romance, accidental pregnancy, daddy kink, praise kink, possessive!jk, smut (mdi)
what starts as an innocent crush on your best friend's father quickly spirals into a secret relationship built on desire, validation, and blurred boundaries—until one unexpected pregnancy changes everything.
before you | tattoo artist!jk, friends to lovers, accidental pregnancy, fake parenthood, found family, protective!jk, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending (mdi)
jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?
a hero's journey | editor!reader, best friend's boyfriend au, missed timing, lost confession, friends to lovers, pining, workplace au, angst with happy ending, smut (mdi)
jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story.
when worlds collide | series | college au, ballet!reader, fuckboy!jk, tutoring au, strangers to lovers, opposites attract, angst, slice of life, smut (mdi) | not complete
since your mother's passing, life has been a whirlwind. balancing ballet and college while keeping a low profile was your norm—until jungkook stepped into your world. despite his reputation and popularity on campus, he keeps insisting on your help, pulling you into the spotlight you've always tried to avoid.
home | drabble | idol!jk, military au, established relationship, bam, reunion, domestic fluff, long distance, military enlistment, light angst
since jungkook's enlistment, you've grown used to missing him in the little moments—especially when bam waits by the door for someone who isn't supposed to come home yet. but one ordinary evening turns into the perfect surprise when the person you've been longing for suddenly appears on the other side of the door.
first position | college au, established relationship, best friend x reader x jk, threesome, friends helping friends, comedy, smut (mdi), alcohol, marijuana use | one of the filthiest smuts ever
your best friend's ex might have broken her heart, but the fact that he never managed to make her orgasm is somehow even worse. determined to show her what she's been missing, you and jungkook decide to take matters into your own hands.
burning hour | idol!jk, established relationship, yacht date, summer vibes, playful banter, fluff, smut (mdi) | rich boyfriend jk living his best yacht owner life
there's nothing better than spending a relaxing day on your boyfriend's yacht, soaking up the sun and waiting for the sunset. unfortunately for you, jungkook has other plans—and they involve making sure you pay attention to him instead.
Jeon jungkook x reader one shot based on his weverse live; boyfriend jk missing his girlfriend
“he looked warm. comfortable. very, very drunk. and ridiculously adorable.”
“the kind of drunk where every thought in his head became honest.”
the call came at almost 5 a.m.
vegas time.
you only knew because the second you answered, jungkook shoved his phone toward the giant hotel window like he was presenting evidence in court.
“look,” he slurred proudly. “still dark outside. which means technically this counts as early and not late.”
you laughed immediately.
his hood was pulled up over his messy hair, oversized black hoodie swallowing him whole while neon casino lights painted soft pinks and blues across his face. he was laying on his stomach across the hotel bed, phone propped against his chest while he stared at you with sleepy, glassy eyes.
he looked warm.
comfortable.
very, very drunk.
and ridiculously adorable.
“baby,” he said the second the camera flipped back to him. “there you are.”
“you are wasted.”
“no,” he scoffed.
a pause.
“…a little.”
in the background, jin barked out a laugh loud enough to echo through the hotel suite.
“a little?” jin repeated. “you tried arguing with the elevator because you thought it was ignoring you.”
“it was,” jungkook defended immediately.
you could barely stop laughing.
jungkook just buried his face halfway into the hotel pillow dramatically, hood still pulled over his head.
“miss you,” he mumbled into the fabric.
your expression softened instantly.
“you called me just to say that?”
“yes.”
“could’ve texted.”
“no.” he frowned sleepily. “needed your face.”
god.
drunk jungkook was dangerously affectionate.
he shifted higher onto the bed until the phone was resting against his chest properly, his face filling most of the screen now.
“you’re so pretty it’s actually annoying,” he informed you seriously.
“you’re insane.”
“you love me.”
“…unfortunately.”
he gasped.
then immediately started giggling to himself.
behind him, jin walked through the frame carrying multiple water bottles and what looked like pure exhaustion.
“why are you laying like that?” you asked.
“comfortable,” jungkook answered instantly. “this bed feels fucking incredible.”
“you sound half asleep.”
“because i’m relaxed,” he corrected. “important difference.”
jin snorted somewhere behind him.
“he refused to take his hoodie off because apparently vegas hotel air conditioning is ‘emotionally cold.’”
“it is,” jungkook muttered.
you buried your face in your hand laughing.
the hood had slipped lower over his forehead now, making him look even softer somehow.
like a sleepy drunk boyfriend who accidentally called the love of his life because he missed them too much.
which was apparently exactly what this was.
“you should sleep soon,” you told him gently.
“no.”
“jungkook.”
“i’m functioning perfectly.”
right as he said it, his phone slid off his chest and smacked directly into his face.
jin lost it laughing.
you did too.
jungkook just blinked slowly before mumbling:
“…rude.”
“you okay?”
“mhm.” he pulled the hood farther over his head dramatically. “the hoodie protected me.”
“that’s not how hoodies work.”
“says who?”
you smiled helplessly.
he got quiet for a second then.
still staring at you through the screen.
“i wish you were here,” he admitted softly.
something in your chest pulled tight.
the vegas lights flickered dimly across his face while he spoke again, slower now.
“we went everywhere tonight and every time something funny happened i kept thinking—” he paused sleepily, “—‘wait till i tell her.’”
your heart honestly melted.
“you’re sweet when you’re drunk.”
“i’m sweet always.”
“you called jin a dick fifteen minutes ago.”
“he deserved it.”
“i heard that,” jin yelled from somewhere offscreen.
jungkook ignored him completely.
“you know i love you, right?”
the words came out easy.
natural.
like he didn’t even think before saying them.
your breath caught a little anyway.
“you’re gonna regret saying all this tomorrow.”
“nope.”
“yes, you are.”
“no,” he insisted stubbornly, eyes heavy beneath the hood. “sober me just gets shy about it.”
that one got you completely.
you smiled softly without meaning to.
his entire expression melted the second he saw it.
“there she is,” he whispered. “that smile.”
suddenly another face appeared beside him.
taehyung leaned into frame laughing so hard he could barely speak.
“jungkook,” he said, grabbing jungkook’s shoulder, “the van is downstairs. we have to go.”
jungkook immediately groaned and buried his face into the pillow again.
“nooooo.”
“yes.”
“i’m busy.”
“you’ve been on facetime for almost an hour.”
“and?”
taehyung looked directly at you.
“he’s been talking about her literally all night.”
jungkook whined loudly.
“taehyungggg.”
“what? it’s true.”
“i’m in love, leave me alone.”
taehyung burst into louder laughter while jin yelled, “get him out of the hotel before he passes out.”
jungkook clutched the phone against his chest protectively.
“no. i’m staying here.”
“you are absolutely not.”
“i don’t wanna hang up yet,” he complained, looking back at you with the saddest pout imaginable. “can’t she just come to vegas right now?”
“at five in the morning?”
“yes.”
“you’re ridiculous.”
“but you like me.”
unfortunately, he was right.
taehyung was still trying to drag him off the bed while jungkook stubbornly held onto the phone with both hands.
“baby,” he whined softly, hood slipping over one eye, “stay on call till i get in the van?”
you smiled.
“okay.”
his entire face lit up instantly.
“there’s my girl,” he murmured sleepily. “favorite person in the whole fucking world.”
arranged marriages to most were a concept that felt both foreign and misplaced - something straight out of a film, or imaginative story rooted in fantasy. for you, however, the daughter of one of the leading businessmen in the country, it was reality.
jeon jungkook. that was your groom’s name, a man you had met in passing at events, and as attractive as he was, you unfortunately hadn’t the faintest clue of his character nor his personality. it meant nothing when he too was the heir to a rivalling company, one that had been at odds with your father for two decades. in the spirit of new beginnings, it had been decreed that you two were to be wed in early spring, marking a new era for both families.
you agreed, out of obligation and duty, jungkook doing the same. neither of you had much autonomy, not even being allowed to sit next to one another privately before the wedding as you were both thrown into the world of planning, and organising. that meant after the wedding was done, rings planted firmly on fingers and the doors to your new lavish home closed; neither of you knew what to say.
and so began the current six months of married life.
neither of you spoke to one another with the exception of a polite good morning and good night, passing one another by where you honestly tried to make each other as comfortable as possible. well, as comfortable as one could get when they were essentially living with a stranger.
you slept in separate rooms, both beside one another, with your beds sharing the same wall, a fact you had realised one night as he came home extremely late, entirely exhausted from a work day of hell. you often secretly waited up so you could sleep at the same time, the routine offering some semblance of comfort to you, despite it being silly.
there were some things you’d do together, albeit they weren’t done traditionally. breakfast, and often times dinners were had together on the dining table. neither of you would converse, with your eyes on your plate - it was lost on you that he typically spent that time observing you, making a note of what you liked and what you didn’t so he could properly notify your shared chef.
you were living disconnected lives in a shared home, a fact that unbeknownst to you settled in his stomach uncomfortably every time he’d sneak a glance at you during said meals. jungkook was a man that showed up for you in ways that didn’t quite make sense in your head, as he’d take your car to have it serviced, make sure your housekeeper kept your favourite snacks stocked and most importantly?
told your overbearing parents to shut the fuck up.
they had always been too much, caring little if something made you happy or sad as long as it was good for them and their business, their legacy as they liked to put it. the conversation of children was brought up two months ago, with your father almost buzzing with annoyance at the thought of bringing it up to you. when he had shared his plans, jungkook had immediately told him he had no place in making decisions like that in your marriage, doing good to remind him of the nature of the union in the first place.
he was protective of you, his sweet wife, who cared more about playing animal crossing and baking than she really cared about anything corporate, your family forcing you to work at the company. it grinded his gears beyond belief.
he knew this couldn’t continue like this - it wasn’t fair to you. you were beautiful, far more beautiful than he had ever expected you to be whilst still being warm, intelligent and sweet. he wasn’t sure where to begin, nor where to continue but something had to give.
six months had already dictated your lives enough, and he was finally ready to put a stop to it.
the game was over.
—
by the time jungkook pulled into the driveway, his shoulders aching and head pounding, the clock on his dashboard blared a harsh 1:26am at him, reminding him of the late hour. exhaustion became one with him as he loosened his tie, letting out a deep exhale he could feel from the bottom of his body right to the top, the kind that settled into his bones. he unbuttoned his shirt collar, grunting lightly under his breath at the feeling of finally being free.
his jaw ached, having clenched it continuously throughout his torturous day but it was his head that had him hissing.
meetings. phone calls. numbers. shareholders. men twice his age with too large suits that found every single way to undermine him as he was younger and smarter - it was too fucking much. it was enough to drive anyone insane, but with this and the impending anxiety surrounding his odd dynamic with you, it truly had him exhausted.
the house was quiet, but he could hear a slight buzz roaming through, as he noticed the housekeeper and some of his hired staff still awake, all anticipating his arrival. he apologised wholeheartedly for keeping them so late, asking them to return to their own homes or to help themselves to any guest room. they were as gracious as their employer, all telling him it was fine.
the silence that stretched over the home was something he enjoyed usually, relished even, but right now, it made him uncomfortable. it was hard to describe, but it felt like everything had reached a limit, and he craved something bigger. softer. gentler.
his eyes flickered upstairs. he noticed a light glow emitting from the space beyond the corner.
your room.
it was embarassing, really, how quickly his shoulders eased gently, his wound up body slumping slightly at the thought of you being awake right now too. it was strange, even he knew that, but it brought him a sense of comfort.
his coat was in the hands of one of the staff, who began putting it away beside him just as he glanced over.
“hasn’t she slept yet?” he softly asked, trying to keep his voice quiet just in case.
the older woman bit back a knowing smile, shaking her head. “i believe madam was waiting up.”
his chest tightened.
waiting up?
for him?
jungkook thanked her quietly, nodding a little to himself, before glancing up the stairs once more. he turned, slowly making his way up the stairs, the sounds of his steps echoing around the too quiet home. the hallway was dark as he walked down, except from the glowing light he now confirmed was from your lamps in the corners of your room. you liked to sleep in darkness, which meant you were certainly awake.
still awake. it repeated in his head over and over and over as his hand flexed on the side of him.
somewhere along the way, the mention of you had become dangerous to him, with his heart and head turning, dropping and falling.
it was hard not to feel this way towards you, he thought to himself, trying to rationalise it in anyway possible. you had never demanded anything from him, never pushed, never even complained about this odd arrangement despite how unfair it was for you. you were intelligent, beautiful, accomplished - you were worth a man that made you feel exactly that, and jungkook slumped knowing you hadn’t chosen him.
he knew you had made yourself smaller in this marriage, with a careful politeness in each and every interaction like you were almost too scared of asking for too much from him.
fuck. he hated it.
the truth was, jungkook would have given you anything. he knew minutes after you had finished your ceremony, sharing a gentle peck upon each other’s lips as nothing other than a formality, that he would do his best to make life accommodating for you. he had done that, that he was sure of but to live happily was to be more than just accommodated.
he stood outside his door, staring at the mahogany for an embarrassingly long two minutes before he silenced his suddenly racing mind, turning on his heel to instead face yours just beside it, his eyebrows furrowed.
he lifted his knuckles, gently knocking upon it.
a shuffle from beyond the wood was heard, almost as though you were composing yourself, before the door swung open just as lightly as he had knocked.
his breath caught embarrassingly hard.
you were in one of those sleep dresses, a silky camisole like neckline whilst the matching dressing gown sat loosely done, as though you had just shoved it on, hair messily pulled up into a bun. you looked so soft - he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“you’re home.” you immediately murmured quietly.
the concern in your voice only had his heart beating a little faster, with the way you tilted your head, eyes crinkled slightly knowing he truly had just gotten home. it was so late, and you really didn’t like him working so deep into the evening when you knew that everyone around him had left hours upon hours ago.
“did i wake you?”
you shook your head immediately, tucking the stray piece of hair behind your ear after it fell over your eye. “no, i wasn’t sleeping.”
his gaze drifted over you, watching you do the action with heart struck eyes. you were entranced by how soft he looked in this low light, stomach doing summersaults with him just being here. you guys didn’t really talk often, and it was always something that came every now and then, when you needed it - this felt different.
“you should’ve slept.” he chastised lightly.
you shyly smiled at that. “it’s okay. usually wait till you’re home to sleep so..”
fuck. fuck.
he looked away, unable to meet your eyes for a moment as he felt your words swirl into every crevice of his brain, hitting it right where you occupied each ridge. you noticed it, the way his hand flexed, his jaw tensed, his chest puffing a little at your words like they did something to him directly. it gave you an ego boost.
a few beats passed between you, neither of you quite knowing what to say, but wanting to continue the conversation almost desperately.
“rough day?” you asked, after a moment.
jungkook let out a huff of air, amusement laced in his voice. “yeah, something like that.”
you nibbled on your lip as you nodded, cheeks flushed pink from the sudden attention he was giving you - it felt nice, confusing but god you wanted it more than you could bring yourself to admit.
both of you stood, simply admiring one another openly. his eyes fluttered down from your eyes and down, down, down. your skin looked so soft, with pebbled nipples straining against the thin material of your night dress and your robe slipping from one of your shoulders slightly - you were straight out of a fantasy. you, too, had set your eyes on the way he had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, tie loose, revealing milky skin that you wondered about often.
jungkook was the first to part, swallowing harshly as he realised he had taken so much of your time almost selfishly.
“you should sleep.” he almost whispered, your eyes snapping back up to meet his, cheeks heating even further. “you too.”
neither of you moved.
it was utterly ridiculous. 6 months of being married, living under one roof and stealing glances at one another as though you weren’t allowed - yet this seemed to be the most intimate thing either of you had done.
finally, you brought yourself to be the one to break the moment, knowing how exhausted he really was, despite the heavy stampede of butterflies in your stomach. your eyelashes fluttered as you whispered a soft goodnight before retreating back in your room, door closing just as gently as you’d left.
jungkook stood there for a full minute once more, eyes shut, head straining against the mahogany of the door before retreating to his own room, heart beating out of his chest.
he was so completely, utterly and entirely fucked.
—
sleep didn’t come.
jungkook, instead, found himself rolling from side to side, eyes closing only to snap wide open as he stared above at his high ceiling, his chest constricting whilst his thoughts remained on one person and one person alone.
you.
he couldn’t get you out of his mind. sure, you plagued him all the time, but tonight felt different - it felt like both the start and end of something, as though it meant more than either of you quite realised.
his open curtains showcased the extravagant skyline outside, your shared home sat high enough where you were both faced with the reality that your fortune and social standing had forced you into a marriage where neither of you were sure what the next steps were. his shoulders almost rolled angrily at the recollection of your parents annoyance over not having grandchildren yet, as though anything to do with this situation was even remotely normal.
this arrangement had started as something that best resembled survival for people like you in the environment you were raised in. somewhere along the way, things had changed.
you usually wait till he’s home to sleep.
fuck. the thought was doing overtime in his mind - his wife, sweet and quiet, always making herself small to accommodate everyone else in her life. he didn’t think you’d do that with him, and maybe that meant he was being naive, but the thought of you waiting every time he’d come home so late from the office just to make sure he was safe too?
enough.
jungkook sat up abruptly. he grabbed a pair of sweats, putting them on over his boxers whilst leaving his torso bare, padding out of his room only to notice the soft glow from underneath your bedroom door. you were still awake.
he wasn’t thinking, that much he knew, as he walked over to it, and pushed the door open.
your eyes darted over to the door immediately, noticing his large chest before anything else, your lips parting in shock before you met his gaze. you were in your night dress only, robe long forgotten.
“jungkook?”
god. the way you said his name. it had his shoulders rolling.
his throat tightened momentarily, before he stood a little taller. “did i wake you?”
“no.” you assured, voice soft as sleep laced the corners of it. you were just about to rest your head finally.
he stood there silently for a few moments as again, you both began admiring one another. he, with his large build, shoulders so wide and biceps so muscled you wanted nothing more than to touch them, just to see how they’d feel. he, couldn’t stop staring at your hair, the way it sat, the way it seemed messier due to you no doubt rolling in bed the way he was too. he was, unfortunately, just a man, and so he couldn’t keep his eyes from trailing down your body, almost letting out a groan at the sight of how your dress had shifted, revealing so much more cleavage than earlier.
you sat up a little more. “are you okay?”
his eyes met your eyes.
he really couldn’t stop staring at you. what the fuck was wrong with him?
“couldn’t sleep.” he admitted.
your heart squeezed painfully. without even sparing a thought, you moved, your position no longer in the middle of the bed as you shuffled away to one corner, before lifting the covers a little.
“do you..” your voice came out smaller than intended. “do you wanna sleep here? maybe?”
silence engulfed you both, thick and heavy, as he came to terms with what you had just offered, all whilst you could feel the embarrassment creep over your cheeks. you could feel your hand retreating from the covers as you began to overthink, almost humiliated from the way you had just assumed that was what he was here for.
before you could continue in your spiral, you watched as he turned around.
the door clicked with a soft thud, the click echoing.
your pulse quickened as jungkook then turned to you, body tight, slowly turning off all the lamps around the room, leaving only the one beside you that he knew you liked to keep on till your very last breath each evening. by the time he was done, he pulled the covers back even further, revealing your bare legs and the way your dress had slit up much higher than either of you had expected.
he nearly fucking died then and there when he realised you weren’t wearing any underwear.
he climbed in, sweats already clinging to him in a way that had you realising he was half hard just from looking at you, a fact that had you almost giggling in excitement into your pillow. by the time he was in, you realised how big he actually was, and how much space he took in your smaller bed compared to his - you liked it.
there was something different about him tonight.
something harsher. darker. he was fucking hungry.
you could feel it in the way he watched you, eyes heavy as they dragged up and down your body, then to your face. the room suddenly felt cold, with the only warmth near you emitting from beside you, you lungs gulping in the scent of him.
jungkook leaned back, not quite fully laid down the way you were, whilst his broad chest also took a deep breath, inhaling your scent almost desperately. he looked exhausted still, but now that he was here, in closer proximity than he’d ever been, you noticed how it settled between the fine lines appearing on his faced, clinging to his eyes.
“sorry.” you whispered after a moment, suddenly hyperaware of the lack of space between you both. “the bed’s probably smaller than what you’re used to.”
he met your gaze.
“that’s not the problem.”
butterflies. all over you. swarming in your stomach.
silence swarmed the room again, thick enough to choke on. you couldn’t really comprehend what was happen ing, your husband next to you, sweatpants low on his waist and doing nothing to hide his body, body taking up most of the space on the bed. the city glowed with flashing lights, traffic still on the streets whilst the cool, winter air chilled all those who were brave enough to be outside.
neither of you could look away from one another long enough for admire it.
you shifted slightly below the covers, trying to calm your racing heart. his eyes dropped to the way you curled deeper into the blankets, your night dress shifting even higher up your thighs as a result, rendering you practically bare beside him.
his jaw flexed hard.
you turned on your side quickly after, back facing him now as you tried to put some distance between both of your bodies truly for your sanity. besides you, jungkook exhaled gently.
“you wait up every night?”
your fingers tightened against the sheets. “most nights.”
he was silent for a second.
“why?” he all but demanded.
you shrugged softly against the pillow. “i don’t know..” your voice came out small again, now laced with sleep and honesty. “i just like knowing you’re home.”
jungkook went still. completely still at that.
the past two weeks had been torture for him, coming home in the early hours practically everyday, weekends included due to a massive deal he was closing, and yet the thought of you in your room, ears perked until you heard him go into his own room was..insanity. his heart bloomed with an emotion that resembled the one thing he secretly wanted more than anything. all he could see, think or taste was you.
before you could process the shift in silence, the mattress moved hard beneath and behind you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist, dragging you backwards and across the bed with one rough pull.
a gasp tore through your lips as your back hit his chest, completely flushed against one another.
“jungkook!”
his grip on you tightened before you could move or adjust yourself, your body pressed to him in a way that was inherently indecent - your mind was racing so fast you could barely hear anything other than his breathing by your ear, and the sound of your own heartbeat. this was six months of restraint finally snapped within seconds.
there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.
you could feel everything - the solid heat of his chest on your back, cradling you in, warming you up. his thighs pressed against your own, bare skin touching his sweatpants, though they did nothing to hide the growing tent that was also pressed against you intimately. a heavy hand sat spread on your stomach, bunching the fabric that once draped loosely on you.
god - the way he melted from just touching you, letting out a deep and heavy exhale as though he needed this more than he could explain. his face buried into the space between your neck and shoulder, moving your hair to one side before inhaling openly.
you felt it all the way down your spine.
you could barely breathe with the way he was holding you, firm enough to be possessive and yet you had never felt safer, your eyes shutting momentarily as you let out a matching, airy sigh, content running through your veins. he was holding you like this was the only thing that mattered in his life, and considering the nature of your relationship, it filled you with a sense of awe at knowing you could have maybe had this sooner.
“every night i come home, and i hear you shuffling around in here.”
your eyes fluttered open, the sound of his voice lulling you back to him.
“hear your shower running..hear you watching your shows..” his hand on your stomach tightened. “and then i go to sleep by myself like this arrangement isn’t fucking killing me.”
jungkook swallowed harshly behind you just as you stopped breathing, his words truly out of your wildest dreams as you blinked rapidly.
“i’m tired. so fucking tired.” he admitted quietly. honestly.
the confession sat heavy between you as the air thickened, his words taking their time to settle in the ridges of your brain. it wasn’t just work or the continous pressure on his shoulders - it was this. your marriage. the confusion around it. the want for more. the need for something. the hope it would become anything.
all of it.
the loneliness, the restraint, the constant need for another that you both denied yourselves, convinced that the other didn’t want it half as much.
your hand moved before you could even think. it lifted before pressing against his hand on your stomach, resting in a way that conveyed your shared feelings, assuring him that you too felt the same, that you also felt what he could feel so deeply in his chest.
it was his turn to still. completely and entirely.
his hand flexed underneath before his fingers intertwined with your own - the intimacy of the situation bordering on painful with the way your heart ached at the interaction.
“jungkook..” softly, you whispered.
he shook his head faintly against you, lips now grazing your shoulder in faint, barely there kisses. he couldn’t bare to hear his name on your lips, not when you were also finally in his arms.
“just stay still a second.” his voice cracked on the edges, a clear indication of the exhaustion catching up to him.
somehow that affected you more than anything else.
your body relaxed, softening immediately against him, your limbs settling into his as though it was nothing more than a natural instinct. the reaction he had was instant as he continued to breathe in your scent, only to exhale deeply - he was ridding himself of the tiredness that plagued his soul, replacing it with you. you. you. always you.
a few minutes passed just like that, as you rubbed your thumb over his hand, soothing him gently, all whilst relishing in the warmth that seemed to just emit from him. after what felt like an eternity, you finally turned to properly face him.
the movement forced him to let you go momentarily, an action that genuinely felt akin to the end of the world. the second your faces were now brushing against one another, his arm found its way back onto you, hand heavy on your back.
keeping you close, your noses were mere millimetres away from touching. his eyes dragged slowly across your face like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
“should’ve been sleeping here from the first night.” he whispered. “fucked up the second i let you in here alone.”
you fingers trailed up, bravely, to touch his chin, continuing onto his jaw with a barely there graze, as though your intrigue was finally allowed an outlet.
“you’re here now.” you whispered back, as though it was a secret between you both worth celebrating.
“you’re my wife.” he closed his eyes then, jaw slack at the feel of you. “my wife. all mine, hm. my wife.”
it seemed he was speaking to himself by the end of his sentence, pulling you impossibly closer to reward himself for his frankness in that moment. it felt freeing to be so candid with you, and you with him, as you both simply relished in the feel of one another knowing it was finally reciprocated.
you shifted closer without thinking, your thigh intimately brushing against his - the reaction was immediate. his hand flattened against your back, inching down to your ass that was barely hidden by the thin material of your night dress, pushing you flush against him so you could now feel him in a way that was anything but innocent.
instead of going pink or gasping, you surprised him by nestling closer, as though you wanted it even more than he did.
“baby.” he warned softly.
the name alone nearly melted you.
your noses finally brushed against one another, breaths mingling in the tiny pocket of air between you. neither of you wanted to be the first to make the move, so used to staying apart, thinking that was the other wanted - being together, entirely and fully, it was a reminder of how wrong you’d been.
it was unbearable, the tension. the warmth, the heat, his burning stare.
jungkook was a man starved.
your eyes flickered down to his mouth, finally breaking eye contact as your body seemed to move without thinking, pressing against his hardened cock for some semblance of relief. that broke the last shred of restraint jungkook had been desperately clinging to.
his hand slid up to the back of your neck before he finally pressed his lips to yours.
he kissed like a man exhausted, finally finding relief in you, his sweet, needy wife. oh, one taste of you and he realised that this was something he had needed all his life, something he wasn’t willing to give up ever again. had he left you as desperate as he was?
he wanted to be sweet. he knew you deserved that, something soft, something gentle but fuck, he couldn’t help the roughness he chased you with. feeling you try to keep up only made his head absolutely swirl as he grabbed you tight, large hand spanking you equally as mean whilst you whimpered into his mouth.
his grip never loosened for a second, only choosing to push and push and push you closer until there was no more physical space between you, and even then, he continued.
you wanted to feel him in every single way as your positions moved, your arms wrapping around his neck, all whilst he shifted so he could hover over you instead. you could feel him deeper against you as his hips began to grind, making you feel every inch of him.
your legs were spread, dress pushed up to your waist, allowing him to press his clothed cock against your bare core, both of your breathing harsh as you continued to kiss, neither willing to part.
his tongue explored your mouth, all done purposefully as you felt the heat between your thighs clench at the feel of it caressing your own - a promise of what he could do to you, if you only asked.
your hands were in his hair, tugging, making out in a way that was a shock to anyone had they met either of you. months of a quiet marriage, no more than half a minute spent on talking each day, and yet here you were - your husband hovering over you whilst he devoured you, grinding his cock into you until all you could feel, all you could see was jungkook.
by the time you pulled back, hands sliding down his chest, a thin string of saliva separated you as you looked between you. the sight had jungkook hissing as he looked down at you.
the straps of your dress were down your shoulders, it also pushed up all the way to your stomach, leaving you half bare, shielded by jungkook’s large frame and made warm by his radiating heat. you hair fanned out in each corner around you, whilst your typically large eyes sat hooded, lips parted and bruised from the way he had practically devoured you.
he couldn’t decide whether to continue ruining you or to worship you. neither felt enough.
as he kissed you again, slower this time, hips grinding against yours so much deeper, taking his time in ruining you on your too small bed, you realised something.
for the first time since the wedding, you finally felt like a married woman - your husband above you, holding you like you were the most cherished thing in his life, and you below him, as though you were the one and only thing he had dreamt about for months.
it was in the quiet of the night that the distance that had built up across the last six months quietly dissipated, rendering the arranged portion of your marriage dead, whilst you both finally began to feel alive.
comfort personified, you were both finally home.
—
the way i had a dream about this and got to writing IMMEDIATELY ugh need him
lmk if you guys enjoyed - i haven’t edited or read this back so god help me if this is actually shit
if you guys wanna support a writer pay her horrible, ugly, disgusting, freakish london rent, here’s my kofi lol
author note: lmk any scenarios or members you want to see next! <3
~Jungkook is known for his precision in everything he does, including his cooking. When he decides to prepare a complex, multi-course dinner for you to celebrate a small milestone, he finds that the kitchen is the one place where he can drop his guard and simply enjoy the process of serving the person he loves most.~
The kitchen was always the heart of your home, but tonight, it felt more like a professional studio. Jungkook moved with a rhythmic efficiency that you had grown to love and a natural grace that reminded you of the way he carried himself on stage. He wasn't just cooking, he was creating, his movements fluid and intentional as he balanced three different pans at once.
He looked effortless, even with the small beads of sweat forming on his brow. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the ink of his tattoos as he skillfully minced garlic with a sharpness that would have made a Michelin Star chef nod in approval.
You sat on a high stool at the kitchen island, nursing a glass of wine and watching him with undisguised admiration. It was a rare night where both of your schedules allowed for a pause, and he had insisted on taking over entirely.
"You know," you said, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass, "you’re making it very hard for me to contribute anything other than emotional support."
Jungkook looked over his shoulder, a playful, dimpled grin lighting up his face. He quickly wiped his hands on a towel and walked over, leaning against the counter in front of you. He smelled of sea salt, fresh herbs, and the faint, citrusy scent of the cologne he wore.
"Your support is the most important part of the recipe," he teased, his voice dropping into that smooth, melodic register that always made your heart skip. "Besides, you’ve been working hard all week. This is my way of helping you relax."
He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a gentleness that made your heart skip a beat. He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes dark and sincere.
"I need to check the reduction," he murmured reluctantly, pulling away with a lingering touch of his fingers against your jaw.
You watched him go back to the stove. He handled the heat and the timing with the same level of discipline he applied to his practice. He wasn't fumbling, he was masterfully bringing together an elaborate dish, adjusting seasonings with the confidence of someone who understood the chemistry of flavor and balance.
When he finally finished, the presentation was impeccable. It was something you’d expect from a high-end restaurant, not a quiet dinner for two. He carried the plates over to the dining table, where he had already lit a few candles, their soft glow catching the light in his focused eyes.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed from the mundane details of the week to deeper discussions about the dreams he was currently chasing. He was a great listener, rarely interrupting, his eyes constantly searching yours as if trying to gauge whether the meal was truly as good as he hoped.
"It’s perfect," you told him after the first bite, meeting his expectant gaze.
Jungkook visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping from their high, tense position. He chuckled, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. "I was worried. I spent three hours prepping the base, and I wanted it to be just right for you."
"Jungkook, you could serve me toast and I’d be happy," you said truthfully, reaching across the table to cover his hand with yours.
He flipped his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "I know. But I don't want to give you just anything. I want to give you my best, even on the quiet nights."
After dinner, he insisted on cleaning up, refusing to let you touch a single plate. While he moved around the kitchen, humming a soft, rhythmic tune, you leaned against the doorframe, just watching him. He seemed so grounded, so entirely himself in this space. He was a man of infinite layers—the performer, the perfectionist, the athlete—but in these moments, he was simply the man who loved you and treated you with the utmost care.
When he finally finished, he walked over to you, pulling you into his arms. He didn't say anything, just held you close, his chin resting on top of your head. You could feel the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heart against your chest.
"I'm tired," he admitted into your hair, his voice muffled and heavy with a long-hidden exhaustion.
"Then let's go to sleep," you whispered, pulling back to look at him.
He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. It was a kiss that tasted of quiet promises and a long, peaceful night ahead.
"We need more nights like these," he whispered, his hands moving to your waist to pull you against him. "No work, no schedules. Just you and me. That’s all I need right now."
He led you toward the bedroom, his arm draped securely around your shoulders, as if he were guarding you from the rest of the world. In the quiet sanctuary of the night, with the echo of his laughter still in the air and the taste of the meal he’d poured his heart into, you knew that this was the greatest part of life, and you were grateful to be at the center of his.
°⊹₊ --- After weeks of trading quiet glances, sweet pastries, and calculus formulas in the corner of the campus library, the quiet sanctuary you built so carefully finally gives way. Caught in the warm, rain-drenched bubble of a stormy autumn night, the varsity rugby team’s unstoppable fly-half decides he’s done playing by the book. No more holding back, no more safe distances—just a raw, heavy collision of warmth and desperate hunger in the quiet shadows of your apartment. Jeon Jungkook always knew he wanted you, but as the line between his brute force on the pitch and his tender, aching devotion completely blurs, he'll make sure you never want to pull away.
[ 🔗 ] --- 전정국 x f!reader ₊⊹ ° ✦ cw | rugby player!jungkook, popular athlete x nerdy girl trope, library tutoring, slow burn to heavy smut, cozy apartment vibes, rain-drenched nights, praise, finger slip, sweet but intense, cunnilingus, size difference, over-stimulated clit, protected sex, deep thrusts, thigh-on-shoulder position, sweat-slicked bodies, light biting/marking, absolute devotion, tender aftercare.
| | word count : 2.1k
hey loves! i am SO incredibly sorry for going completely MIA on here lately. my birthday is coming up on august 3rd, so to prep for it i've been working brutal double shifts from 8am to 11pm almost every single day, which has left me with zero brain cells at the end of the night. thank you all so, so much for your patience and endless sweetness 🥺💖 i'm finally finding my rhythm again, so i will be uploading more stories this week to make up for lost time! i hope you guys absolutely love this one. xoxo
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Act I: The Physics of a Collision
The university library was the one place on campus where the laws of gravity seemed to behave themselves. Everything had its place: the high-arched bookshelves, the scent of aged paper and floor wax, and the quiet, rhythmic tapping of your laptop keys.
You lived for this quiet. As a dedicated student who preferred the company of complex equations and quiet study alcoves over rowdy campus parties, the third-floor corner desk was your sanctuary.
Until the peace was shattered by a sound that definitely did not belong in a library.
It was a low, heavy thud, followed by the unmistakable rustle of an oversized sports duffel bag being dropped unceremoniously onto the carpet. You blinked, looking up from your notebook.
Standing in the entryway of your private alcove was Jeon Jungkook. He was practically vibrating with restless energy. Even in a simple oversized gray hoodie and sweatpants, he looked massive—broad-shouldered, thighs thick from years of athletic conditioning, and hair damp from what was likely a post-practice shower. He had a smudge of dirt near his collarbone that he’d clearly missed, and his dark eyes were wide as he scanned the empty desks before landing directly on yours.
"Uh. Hey," he whispered. His voice was surprisingly soft, a sharp contrast to his intimidating frame. "Is... is anyone sitting here?"
You slowly looked at the three empty chairs surrounding your table. "Unless you count my existential dread, no. It’s free."
A small, boyish smile broke across his face, instantly melting the fierce "star athlete" persona the campus sports newsletters loved to write about. He pulled out the chair directly opposite you, the heavy wooden legs scraping against the floor with a loud screeech.
Several people in the next aisle hissed a collective "Shh!"
Jungkook winced, ducking his head and mouthing a silent 'sorry' to the empty air, his cheeks flushing a faint, endearing shade of pink. He sat down, practically folding his large frame to fit under the standard library desk, and began pulling things out of his bag.
First came a massive, neon-pink water bottle covered in cute stickers (a stark contrast to his rugged build). Next was a laptop, followed by a brand-new, entirely spine-unbroken textbook for Advanced Calculus.
He stared at the textbook like it was written in an ancient, hostile language. He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his damp, dark hair, leaving it delightfully messy.
You tried to return to your notes, but the sheer presence of him was distracting. He kept shifting, his heavy thighs brushing against the underside of the table, sending tiny vibrations through your laptop. Every few minutes, he would mutter something under his breath, chew on the end of a black pen, or groan softly.
"You know," you said quietly, finally leaning back in your chair, "if you stare at the cover any harder, it might actually catch fire."
Jungkook looked up, startled. He dropped his pen, and it rolled across the table, stopping right against your hand.
"Is it that obvious?" he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm trying to prep for the mid-term next week. If I don't pull at least a B, the coach is going to bench me for the playoffs. And honestly? None of this makes sense. It’s like they’re using numbers to hurt my feelings."
You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "Calculus isn't trying to hurt you. It's just highly misunderstood."
"Easy for you to say," he said, gesturing to your neatly organized, color-coded notebooks. "You look like you actually understand the universe. I just run into people for a living."
"Well, the universe is just a giant game of collision physics," you offered, pulling his textbook toward you. "And rugby is literally just applied force and momentum. You probably understand it better than you think."
Jungkook leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. Up close, you could see the faint scar on his left cheek and the intense, dark sparkle in his eyes. He looked incredibly attentive, like a golden retriever waiting for a command.
"Show me?" he asked softly.
Act II: The Sweetness of Slow Momentum
What started as a one-time explanation quickly spiraled into a weekly routine.
Every Tuesday and Thursday after his practice, Jungkook would find you in your corner alcove. He would bring peace offerings: iced matchas, soft strawberry pastries, and little wrapped candies that he’d slide across the table to you with a hopeful grin.
You quickly learned that despite his fearsome reputation on the rugby pitch, Jungkook was incredibly sweet, polite, and surprisingly shy.
"Okay, look at it this way," you said, pointing to a graph you’d sketched in his notebook. "The derivative represents the exact rate of change at any given moment. Think of it like sprinting down the field. Your average speed over the whole game is one thing, but the derivative is your exact velocity the second you break through the defensive line."
Jungkook’s eyes lit up. "Oh! So it's like... the exact moment I decide to pivot?"
"Exactly," you smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at how quickly he caught on. "You're calculating the precise point of maximum efficiency."
"Wow." He stared at the graph, a genuine grin spreading across his face. "You make it sound so easy. My professor just mumbles at the chalkboard and expects us to pray for salvation." He looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. "You're really smart, Y/N."
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You felt your cheeks warm up, and you quickly looked down at your notes. "I just like when things have a clear answer. Real life is usually much messier."
"Yeah," Jungkook said softly, his eyes tracing the line of your collarbone before returning to your face. "But messy can be good sometimes."
The silence that stretched between you wasn't the heavy, academic silence of the library anymore. It was charged, sweet, and thick with an unspoken tension. He reached out, his large, calloused hand resting on the table just inches from yours. His fingers were long, the knuckles slightly bruised from practice, but there was a gentleness to his posture that made your heart skip a beat.
"Are you... coming to the game this Friday?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave, practically a whisper.
"I don't really do sports, Jungkook," you said softly. "The stadium is loud, and I usually use Friday nights to catch up on reading."
He pouted—a full, exaggerated, incredibly cute lip-jut that should have been illegal on a man of his size. "Please? It’s the biggest match of the season. If you're there, I'll have a reason to show off my 'maximum efficiency' velocity."
You laughed, shaking your head, but the flutter in your chest was undeniable. "Fine. But only if you promise to actually pass your calculus quiz tomorrow."
"Deal," he beamed, reaching out to gently tap his pinky finger against yours in a mock promise. The brief contact of his warm skin sent a shiver straight down your spine.
Act III: The Field of Force
Friday night arrived with a crisp autumn chill and the roaring hum of the university stadium.
You stood near the metal bleachers, wrapped in a cozy oversized knit sweater, holding a hot cup of cider. The atmosphere was electric—the smell of cut grass, popcorn, and the deafening cheers of hundreds of students painted a picture entirely foreign to your quiet library sanctuary.
The whistle blew, and the match began.
You had never watched rugby before, and the sheer physicality of it took your breath away. At the center of it all was Jungkook.
On the field, he was a completely different person. The boy who shyly ate strawberry pastries in the library stacks was gone. In his place was a dominant, fierce force of nature. Wearing the dark red varsity jersey, his muscular legs caked in mud, he commanded the field with absolute authority. You watched as he caught the ball mid-air, absorbing a heavy hit from a defender twice his size without even flinching. He spun, his powerful thighs driving him forward as he slipped through the defensive line with breathtaking grace.
When he scored, the stadium erupted.
Jungkook stood up from the turf, wiping a streak of mud from his forehead. He grinned, jogging back toward the center line. But before he took his position, his eyes scanned the crowded sidelines.
You stood up a little straighter, waving your hand slightly.
Across the distance, his eyes locked onto yours. A brilliant, breathless smile broke across his face, and he raised a hand to point directly at you, giving you a quick, playful wink before refocusing on the game.
Your heart did a violent flip.
By the time the final whistle blew, our team had won by a landslide. The crowd stormed the edges of the field, but you stayed back, not wanting to get caught in the crush of excited bodies.
Suddenly, a hand caught your wrist—not painfully, but with a firm, warm certainty.
You turned to find Jungkook. He was panting, his hair wild and damp with sweat, mud splattered across his cheeks and jersey. He looked rugged, raw, and incredibly beautiful.
"You stayed," he breathed, his chest heaving as he smiled down at you.
"Of course I did," you said, your voice carrying a soft, nervous tremor. "You were amazing out there, Jungkook. You really used that momentum."
He let out a breathless, booming laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Without warning, he stepped closer, his warmth radiating off him in the cool night air. "I only played well because I knew you were watching."
Act IV: Friction and Flow
The rain began to fall just as the crowds cleared, turning the night into a soft, blurry canvas of streetlights and glistening pavement.
Since Jungkook's car was in the campus shop, you ended up walking back to your apartment together, sharing your small umbrella. Because of his size, he had to walk incredibly close to you to stay dry, his heavy shoulder constantly brushing against yours, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist to guide you away from puddles.
By the time you reached your front door, the rain was coming down in sheets.
"You're going to get soaked walking back to the dorms," you said, looking at the downpour, then up at him. "Do you... want to come in? Just until it clears up?"
Jungkook swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Yeah. I'd really like that."
Your apartment was small, cozy, and filled with the scent of vanilla and old books.
"Make yourself comfortable," you said, handing him a clean, dry towel. "I'll make us some hot tea."
When you returned to the living room, Jungkook had taken off his damp varsity jacket, leaving him in a fitted black t-shirt that clung to the contours of his chest and arms. He was sitting on your small, plush sofa, looking around the room with a soft, curious expression.
"Your place is really nice," he said, taking the mug from you. "It feels... safe. Like you."
You sat down beside him, tucking your legs under your sweater. "Like me?"
"Yeah." He set his mug down on the coffee table and turned his body to face you, his dark eyes intensely focused. "You're quiet, and you're calm, and you make my brain stop running a million miles an hour. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to be the star player. I can just... be Jungkook."
Your breath hitched. The space between you suddenly felt incredibly small, charged with a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore.
"Jungkook..." you whispered.
"I've been wanting to do this for weeks," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky register.
He reached out, his large, warm hand gently cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin with a tenderness that made your eyes flutter shut. You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding like a drum.
He leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you didn't.
When his lips finally met yours, it was a beautiful collision.
Act V: The Ultimate Convergence
The kiss was soft at first, a sweet, tentative tasting of one another. Jungkook’s lips were warm and slightly parted, tasting of the sweet cider from earlier. But as you let out a soft sigh against his mouth, his grip on your cheek tightened slightly, and the kiss deepened into something raw, heavy, and full of long-dormant desire.
He pulled you onto his lap, his strong hands sliding down to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped at the sudden shift in gravity, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you back against the plush cushions of the sofa.
The heat radiating from him was intense, a literal fire compared to the cool rain tapping against your window.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. His hands slid up under the hem of your oversized sweater, his warm palms tracing the sensitive skin of your waist, sending shivers cascading through your entire body.
Every touch from him was deliberate, a perfect execution of desire and tenderness. He kissed his way down your jawline, his lips lingering on the sweet spot just below your ear, making you arch into him with a quiet whimper.
"Jungkook," you breathed, your fingers tangling in his damp, dark hair, pulling him closer.
He groaned softly, the sound low and resonant in his chest. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with an unbridled passion, yet still holding that sweet, devoted gaze that had captured you in the library.
"I've got you," he whispered, his thumbs stroking your hips as he pulled you flush against him. "I’m not letting go."
The rain lashed violently against the windowpane, the rhythmic drumming of water against glass casting a private, shadowed sanctuary over the dimly lit living room.
Jungkook’s hands on your waist were firm and massive, anchoring you to his lap. He didn't just hold you; he possessed your space, his thick thighs framing yours as you sat straddling him. He pulled back just a fraction of an inch, his dark, dilated eyes searching your face. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against yours, the heat radiating off his skin like a physical wave.
"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice incredibly husky, a gravelly contrast to the sweet boy from the library. "Because once I start, Y/N, I don't think I can stop."
"I'm sure, Jungkook," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I want you."
A low, primal growl rumbled in his throat. He leaned up, his lips catching yours in a kiss that was no longer tentative. It was deep, hungry, and demanding. His tongue slid into your mouth, tasting you completely, swirling with yours in a lazy, heavy rhythm that mirrored the friction of your bodies.
His large, calloused hands slid down from your waist, gripping the undersides of your thighs. With effortless strength, he lifted you slightly, shifting your weight so you were pressed tightly against his growing hardness. You let out a quiet gasp into his mouth, your hands instantly finding his broad shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline as the sheer size of him registered against your core.
"You're so small," he breathed against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "So beautiful."
Without breaking the kiss for more than a second, his fingers caught the hem of your knit sweater. He pulled it up and over your head, throwing it onto the floor. He paused, his gaze dropping to your bare skin, his eyes darkening further as he took in the sight of you. His hand, warm and slightly rough from years of rugby turf, traced a slow path up your ribs, making you shiver.
"Jungkook," you whimpered, your hands reaching for the hem of his black t-shirt.
He helped you, pulling it off in one fluid motion and tossing it aside. The sight of his bare chest was breathtaking. His shoulders were incredibly broad, his chest heavily muscled, and his abs defined, decorated with the faint, fading bruises of his sport. He was a masterpiece of raw athletic power, yet as his hands reached back to you, his touch was impossibly gentle.
He leaned you back against the plush cushions of the sofa, hovering over you, his massive frame shielding you from the rest of the world. He kissed his way down your chin, down the sensitive column of your throat, his lips hot and wet. When his mouth found the valley between your collarbones, you arched into him, your fingers tangling tightly in his damp hair.
"Ah—Jungkook, please..."
"I've got you," he whispered, his thumb caressing your hip.
He slid his hands to the waistband of your shorts, slowly pushing them down along with your lace panties. You lifted your hips, completely pliant under his touch. When he tossed the garments aside, he didn't immediately move to his own clothes. Instead, he knelt between your legs, his heavy thighs parting yours wide, exposing you to his gaze.
The vulnerability made you flush, but the raw adoration in his eyes melted any insecurity. He leaned down, his warm breath fanning over your inner thighs, making your legs tremble.
"Jungkook, wait—"
But he was already leaning in, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before his fingers gently parted you. When his tongue made first contact, a sharp, electric shock of pure pleasure shot straight to your core. You let out a loud, breathless cry, your fingers digging into the fabric of the couch cushions.
He was incredibly thorough. He used his tongue in long, slow, upward strokes, lapping at you with a heavy, deliberate pace that drove you crazy. He knew exactly how to apply pressure, his thumb circling your clit while his mouth drank you in.
"Oh my god... Jungkook..." You thrashed your head back, your hips rolling helplessly against his mouth. The friction was unbearable, the pleasure building so fast your vision blurred.
He let out a low hum against your skin, enjoying the taste of you, his tongue moving faster, swirling and teasing until you were entirely slick, whimpering and begging his name. Just as you felt the first waves of a climax building, he pulled back.
You let out a whine of protest, but he just smiled, a dark, incredibly sexy smirk that made your chest tighten.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice dripping with heat. "I want to feel you wrap around me when you go off."
He stood up quickly, his large hands reaching for the button of his sweatpants. He pushed them down, exposing his thick, heavy length, already fully erect and glistening at the tip. He was thick, his veins prominent, a testament to the sheer desire he’d been holding back. He reached into his pocket, tearing open a small square packet with his teeth, and rolled the protection on with a practiced, steady hand.
He crawled back over you, his weight heavy and comforting as he settled between your thighs. He propped his forearms on either side of your head, his bicep brushing against your cheek.
He pressed his tip against your entrance, testing the wetness you’d left behind. You gasped at the friction, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, his voice thick.
You opened your eyes, meeting his intense, dark stare.
Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook pushed his hips forward.
You stretched around him, your breath catching in your throat as the sheer thickness of him filled you up, inch by slow inch. It was a tight, heavy, incredibly intense sensation. Your eyes widened, a soft whimper escaping your parted lips.
"You're so tight, Y/N," he groaned, his eyes closing for a brief second as his jaw clenched, fighting for control. He paused, letting you adjust to his size. "Are you okay? Do you need me to go slow?"
"No," you breathed, your hands coming up to cup his sweat-slicked shoulders, pulling him down. "No, Jungkook. Please. Move."
With a low grunt, he pushed the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt. You let out a high-pitched cry, the sensation of him bottoming out inside you sending a wave of delicious heat straight to your lower abdomen.
He began to move.
It was a heavy, relentless rhythm. Because of his athletic conditioning, his endurance was staggering. He withdrew almost fully before plunging back in, his thick hips slamming against yours with a soft, wet slap that echoed in the quiet room. Each thrust was deep, hitting your sweet spot with a precision that had you sobbing his name.
"Jungkook—ah! Yes, right there..."
"I've got you," he panted, his chest rubbing against your breasts with every downward stroke, the friction of his skin against yours driving the heat to a fever pitch. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."
He reached down, grabbing one of your knees and draping your leg over his shoulder, opening you up even wider. The change in angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper. He began to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, driven by a raw, desperate need to be as close to you as possible.
You were completely lost in the sensation. The room, the rain, the entire world shrunk down to the point of contact between your bodies. Every time he thrust into you, you felt the pleasure building, a tight coil in your stomach wrapping tighter and tighter.
"Jungkook, I'm... I'm close," you cried out, your nails digging into the muscles of his back, leaving faint red marks.
He groaned, his pace turning frantic, his hips driving into yours with wild, bruising force. "Come for me, Y/N. Let me feel it."
He leaned down, burying his face in your neck, biting softly at the skin of your shoulder as he delivered three hard, deep thrusts.
That was the breaking point. Your walls clamped down tightly around his length as you shattered, your body shaking violently as a massive, pulsing orgasm ripped through you. You screamed his name into the quiet room, your entire body arching off the sofa.
Hearing your cries and feeling the intense, tight contractions of your climax broke his remaining restraint. Jungkook let out a loud, guttural shout, his hips locking tightly against yours as he thrust one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go. His body shuddered violently as he came, his release thick and heavy, filling the protection inside you as he poured himself into you.
He held you tightly, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your collarbone.
For a long time, the only sound in the room was the heavy, synchronized breathing of the two of you, and the gentle, fading patter of the rain outside.
Slowly, Jungkook collapsed his weight onto his elbows, careful not to crush you, and looked down at your face. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from your damp forehead. A soft, incredibly tender smile broke across his face.
"I think," he whispered, his voice breathless and full of awe, "we just solved the equation."
