In life, there are certain things that go together, two parts that make up a whole. The sun in the sky, grandmothers and cheek kisses, chocolate when you’re sad—and you and Jeon Jungkook. Best friends since childhood, there’s never been one without the other. You’ve always existed this way, caught in each other’s orbit. Parallel lines that run side by side.
But what happens when those lines finally collide?
(or: how to lose a best friend in ten days.)
pairing. best friend!jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating. it’s a full course meal, baby! fluff, smut, baby angst, a bit of crack. the smut is pretty minor but it is explicit when it comes up.
tags / warnings. idiots to lovers, dumb ideas, jungkook is bad at feelings, slow burn, pining, oral (f receiving), this jungkook because he lives in my mind rent-free, and in vino veritas (which was my trope).
wc. … 12.8k. laughs in thinking this would be 5k.
beta reader(s). @hobi-gif because there’s no me without her and @coepiteamare because vi is too, too good to me.
author note. this is wiiiiildly late (lol) but is part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with the most wonderful group of women @underthejoon @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @untaemedqueen @xjoonchildx and @snackhobi. i hope you will check out their incredible works because they deserve all the support in the world and i am so very lucky to have been involved in this. if you enjoy it, feedback goes a long way. tysm! 💖💖
Jeon Jungkook is four bites into his meal when he almost chokes, the half-chewed bite of meat getting caught somewhere in the back of his throat, threatening to send him to a far too early grave. He’s three delirious gulps of water deep when he asks you to repeat what you’ve just said, staring at you with the biggest roundest eyes anyone’s ever seen, shining like a beacon in the night, a solar flare that eclipses everything else around it. He’s silent for a total of five seconds - or so he thinks - before he’s laughing, scoffing so loudly it disrupts Eevee, your lazy Maine Coon, and sends her bolting from her spot by his feet.
“You’re kidding me.” Because he can’t even begin to fathom what you’ve just said, make sense of the ludicrous suggestion you’ve made.
This, coming from the guy who has been your best friend for the last seventeen years. Who has known you for almost two decades and who, by sheer idiot osmosis, has been privy to every harebrained scheme you’ve ever dreamt up. Who has, often against his will, suffered through all your crazy 4 a.m. suggestions, nodded along half-asleep as you’d prattled on and on about things that hardly made sense in the light of day but fared even worse beneath a blanket of dazed sleepiness.
(And you’d had a lot of bad ideas. From your absurd fried chicken restaurant - where you’d use vacuum tubes to send food to people’s tables - to your non-whiteboard whiteboard desk - made for the everyday office person - he’s seen it all. Talked you off ledges and rebuked your half-hearted requests for him to be your angel investor.
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