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✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Summary: ‘Clumsy 'cause I'm fallin' in love’.
Park Y/N has always been clumsy and it gets worse when she has a crush. First time meeting Kim Seokjin wasn’t the best and her world came crashing down when she saw him laughing to himself after her spill. To make things even worse, everyone knows that she likes him except for him. Why can’t she win in relationships?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Genre: Fluff, romance, comedy, angst, and smut
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Playlist: Clumsy - Fergie
“Y/N, you should be wrapped up in bubble wrap.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair as she stared up at the ceiling, “You're not helping me.”
Her best friend, Kim Mingyu, let out a laugh and shrugged his shoulders, “I never said I was going to help you.”
Y/N let out a groan and sat back up in her chair, “It wasn’t that embarrassing...”
Mingyu tossed a chip into his mouth as he raised his eyebrow, “You knocked down a whole shelf in his classroom and then you broke his door when you tried to flee the scene. I think that's pretty embarrassing.”
She crumbled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Mingyu’s head as she pouted, “Your so fucking annoying.”
“You just need confidence to be in the same room as him.”
“It’s not that easy...”
Park Y/N is clumsy, there’s no getting around that. From the moment she could walk, her parents knew she would cause heart attacks. Not from being pretty but from worrying them to the point their heart gives out. There were times where she wished she was like her older sister, Park Umiko and maybe then Kim Seokjin could fall in love with her. Seokjin would fall in love with someone that was a world class ballerina and not a clumsy teacher. Umiko was elegant and she had this aura that brought people in. Umiko never tripped or broke something when she saw her crush, if anything they were tripping to get to her first.
Seokjin has been her crush for the past two years and it’s embarrassing. For starters, she’s twenty-six. Who has crushes when you're almost thirty? Second reason is, everyone knows she likes him. When she says everyone, she means everyone. All the students talk about it in the hallways and some even have bets when the teacher is going to confess. If she could, she would die but she doesn’t have good health insurance so...staying alive it is.
Summary : In Paris, Y/N meets Jimin, a free-spirited traveller. Their love blossoms, but Jimin suddenly vanishes. Heartbroken, Y/N returns to Seoul and becomes a fashion editor. Fate twists as Jimin reappears as her demanding boss. Y/N must navigate their past, uncover the truth, and decide if she can trust him again.
Genre : slow burn, angsty, CEO Boss Jimin au,
Words Count : 4.9k
**Disclaimer: All characters in this story are completely fictional, and do not represent the real personalities of any of the BTS members.
m.list | K-pop Shop | ☕
Jimin twisted the silver rings on his fingers, his jaw tight as he stared out the window. His breath left him in a slow exhale, a quiet attempt to loosen the tension knotting in his chest.
Outside, the neon lights of Seoul flickered against the night sky, a vibrant contrast to the heavy silence in the car.
The evening had been one uncertainty after another, his nerves fraying at the edges, and the looming meeting with Marc Durand felt like the final straw. Durand, a titan in haute couture, held the key to opening doors in Korea’s fashion scene, but the stakes had Jimin on edge.
And then there was you. Sitting across from him in the car, your presence a constant irritant, like a stone in his shoe he couldn’t shake off.
His dark gaze flicked to you, lingering longer than he intended. Your lips were pursed, your fingers nervously tracing the edge of your sleeve, but you didn’t speak.
Jimin couldn’t quite place why you grated on him so much. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, sometimes with an intensity that made the air between you too thick, or how you seemed to know more than he could ever guess.
He didn’t trust you. He couldn’t afford to. Not when his instincts screamed that you were hiding something beneath that calm, professional demeanour.
His lips pressed into a hard line as he glanced away, tension curling tighter in his chest. He needed to stay sharp, stay in control.
"Good work," he grumbled, the words rough, barely squeezing past the clench of his teeth. They felt like a betrayal, like offering a hand to someone who’d already let go. He didn’t want to give you even that.
Your head turned slightly at his begrudging praise, a flash of surprise crossing your face, though you quickly masked it. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice soft.
The silence that followed stretched between you like a taut wire, the hum of the car engine filling the void. Jimin’s shoulders tightened further, the familiar sensation of unease settling in his gut.
You unsettled him, challenged him in ways he couldn’t articulate. Every glance exchanged felt like a puzzle missing crucial pieces, and he loathed puzzles he couldn’t solve.
---
A week passed in a blur of meetings and deadlines, but now you stood face-to-face with Jungkook, the young photographer Durand had insisted on bringing in. His quiet confidence was apparent, his dark eyes holding an intensity that contrasted with the playful curve of his lips.
When he smiled, that damn bunny smile, it was impossible not to be charmed. Even you couldn’t help the small, amused twitch of your own lips in response.
Jimin, standing beside you, wasn’t as easily swayed. His expression remained neutral, though his fingers twitched as he pushed a stray lock of hair back from his face.
His eyes narrowed, assessing, though you knew he was out of his depth. He knew next to nothing about Jungkook’s portfolio, and the frustration of relying on Durand’s recommendation showed in the tightness of his posture. Still, he said nothing.
Durand greeted Jungkook with a warm smile, pulling him in for a quick embrace. "Good to see you," he said, turning to Jimin with a knowing glance, as if he was already aware of the scepticism bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "Mr. Park, Jungkook has brought his portfolio. You’ll want to take a look."
Jungkook, sensing the tension in the room, smiled nervously, a hint of apprehension in the way he moved. He placed his portfolio on the table with careful hands, like he knew exactly what was at stake.
You leaned forward, your attention immediately drawn to the vibrant, carefully crafted photographs inside.
The colours and compositions were stunning, capturing the essence of Durand’s designs in a way that felt alive, almost as if the clothes themselves had a story to tell.
"You’ve got real talent," you said, your voice quiet but warm as your fingers traced the edges of one of the photos. You glanced up at Jungkook, whose cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. His smile widened, and he nodded, appreciative but humble.
"Thank you," Jungkook replied, his tone soft. "It helps when the designs are as incredible as Mr. Durand’s."
Durand, ever gracious, offered a small chuckle. "Good designs are only as good as the person capturing them. You’ve done well."
But the moment shifted when Jungkook turned toward Jimin. His smile faltered just a little, his voice dropping into a more cautious tone. "Mr. Park, is there anything specific you’d like to see or ask about? I can make adjustments if needed."
For a brief moment, you saw Jimin’s sharp demeanor soften, his expression shifting as he spoke, the coolness of his voice replaced by a hint of curiosity. "Tell me, Jungkook, what inspires you? What draws you to fashion photography?"
Jungkook's face lit up, passion igniting in his eyes as he dove into a well-rehearsed explanation about the stories woven through fabric and light.
You watched as Jimin leaned in slightly, his posture loosening just a fraction, the shadows in his eyes brightening with genuine interest.
"Your work," Jimin said, a hint of warmth threading through his tone, "seems to connect well with what we have in mind for future issues. I look forward to seeing your creative vision merge with Durand’s designs."
Jungkook beamed, his energy infectious, as he clapped his hands together in excitement. "That’s great! We found someone perfect for the male clothing," he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet.
Curiosity flickered in Jimin’s eyes, despite the guarded expression he tried to maintain. "Who is it?"
Jungkook leaned in, his enthusiasm spilling over. "He’s someone I really admire. He brings this incredible energy when showcasing clothes; it’s like he makes them come alive. We extended an invitation for him to meet you today. If you don’t mind, that is?"
Jimin found himself relaxing even further in Jungkook’s easy company, the younger man's enthusiasm infectious.
There was a warmth to him, an openness that reminded Jimin of a younger sibling, an energy that made it hard to say no.
He offered a small, genuine smile, something that was becoming more frequent around Jungkook despite himself. "Sure," he said, inclining his head slightly, "bring him in."
Durand, sitting nearby, practically rubbed his hands together in excitement, a glint in his eyes as he rose from his seat.
"Perfect! He should be here by now. I really hope you like him enough to agree," he added.
Jimin’s brow furrowed in mild interest, his gaze flicking toward the door. "Very well," he murmured, gesturing for Durand to bring in the mysterious model.
A few minutes passed, the anticipation building. Then Durand returned, but something was off.
There was a strange, almost apologetic expression on his face, like he knew something everyone else didn’t. "Uh…" Durand began awkwardly, stepping aside as if bracing for impact. "Here’s the model."
Jimin’s gaze snapped to the doorway, and the air in the room seemed to freeze. Taehyung stepped in, a whirlwind of energy and anxiety, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Hello," he greeted, his voice soft but tinged with uncertainty, his eyes scanning the room and avoiding Jimin’s gaze like it was a hot stove.
The tension in the air thickened. You, standing nearby, felt your stomach drop, eyes widening as they darted between Jimin and Taehyung.
Taehyung’s eyes darted toward you for the briefest moment, a silent plea written in their depths as if to say, “Don’t say anything.”
Jimin’s expression hardened, and the coldness radiating off him could’ve frozen the air. "Why are you here?" His voice was flat, a sharp blade cutting through the silence.
Taehyung flinched, just a hint, but you noticed it, the way his shoulders drooped under the weight of unspoken history. "I had no idea it was your magazine when Mr. Durand reached out. I didn’t mean for this to—"
"Bullshit," Jimin cut him off, his arms folding tightly across his chest, his jaw clenched so hard you could almost hear it crack.
The harshness of the word made you wince, but you kept your mouth shut, your pulse quickening. His voice, calm but lethal, carried an edge that made everyone else in the room freeze.
Mr. Durand, sensing the growing hostility, stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. "I deeply apologise," he interjected, "I was unaware of your… history. If I had known—"
Jungkook, who had been quiet in the corner until now, shifted uneasily. His brows furrowed as he looked between Jimin and Taehyung, clearly missing some crucial piece of information. "Wait, you two know each other?" His voice was tentative, laced with confusion as he tried to piece together the dynamic unfolding before him.
Taehyung’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the past hanging visibly heavy on him. "We were best friends," he said quietly, eyes dropping to the floor as if the confession itself pained him. "For fifteen years."
The room seemed to chill at those words. Best friends. The kind of friendship that used to mean everything, until it didn’t.
You glanced at Jimin, noticing how his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with something dark and unresolved.
"And some people grow up," Jimin snapped, his voice a low, bitter murmur. The bitterness in his tone was thick, laced with years of hurt and betrayal.
His expression twisted in resentment, though his hands stayed steady, gripping his forearms tightly as if he was holding himself back from saying more.
Taehyung’s brows pulled together, confusion and hurt clear in his eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice cracking just a little.
Instinctively, you stepped forward, drawing a breath to steady yourself. You could feel Jimin’s eyes flick to you, cold and assessing, but you didn’t back down.
"Um, perhaps we could," you started, your voice soft but firm, "refocus on why we’re here, Mr. Durand’s designs." You gestured slightly toward the designer, hoping to steer the conversation back to something neutral.
However, Jimin's glare sliced through the room like a knife, his frustration boiling over. "Not now, Y/N," he snapped, his voice sharp and laced with anger, the irritation radiating off him like heat waves.
In the corner, Mr. Durand and Jungkook exchanged worried glances, their expressions tight with concern as the tension crackled in the air like static electricity.
You could feel Jungkook’s unease, his brow furrowed, trying to gauge the best way to intervene without exacerbating the situation.
Taehyung, undeterred by Jimin’s hostility, stepped forward, determination etched on his features. "I haven't done anything wrong, Jimin, except try to help you," he implored, his voice steady but edged with urgency.
His gaze met Jimin’s, eyes wide and pleading for understanding, but they were met with a wall of ice.
"I didn't need your help, and you certainly did the opposite, didn't you?!" Jimin shouted, the intensity of his anger electrifying the room.
The words erupted from him, raw and unfiltered, and you flinched at the ferocity behind them.
Mr. Durand stepped in, his authority cutting through the mounting tension. "Okay, enough. Let’s remember why we’re here and maintain a professional atmosphere."
Silence fell, thick and heavy, the unspoken words of years of friendship and resentment swirling in the air.
You could feel the air thrum with tension, a collective holding of breath as if any wrong move could shatter the fragile peace.
"Do you really want him to model for you?" Jimin’s voice dripped with disdain, casting an icy glare at Durand as you quickly translated.
The room grew even quieter, the tension reaching a boiling point as all eyes shifted towards the fashion mogul, anticipation crackling in the air.
The tension reached its peak, all eyes shifting to Durand, who held Jimin's gaze with unwavering calm. "Yes, Mr. Park," he replied, firm and resolute. "I believe Taehyung has the potential to bring something unique and captivating to our campaign."
Jimin's expression hardened further, the shadows in his eyes deepening as he processed the gravity of the situation.
He turned away, a heavy sigh escaping him as he retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet.
Jimin poured himself a generous measure, the glass glinting under the lights as he raised it to his lips, the amber liquid burning down his throat like liquid fire.
Jimin’s gaze shifted toward Taehyung, a mixture of caution and lingering resentment lurking in his dark eyes. The effects of the whiskey softened the sharpness of his tone, leaving behind a hint of resignation.
"This does not mean we're friends," he said, his voice steady, a warning etched into each word. "But I can be professional."
Taehyung nodded, the sadness in his eyes mirrored by the heaviness in your chest. "I just want to show you what I can do," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
-
As Jimin led Jungkook and Mr. Durand toward the lobby, you trailed behind, your heart racing, especially as Taehyung slipped beside you.
The two of you gravitated toward a quieter corner, the chatter of the lobby fading into the background like an echo of distant laughter.
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, with my appearance,” Taehyung confessed, his voice low and tinged with vulnerability.
His hands fidgeted, the way they always did when he felt uncomfortable, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he avoided your gaze, staring at the floor like it held the answers to all your questions.
You nodded, feeling warmth blooming in your chest despite the weight of the situation. “It was a little surprising,” you admitted, your tone light but honest, hoping to ease the tension.
Taehyung’s gaze dropped further, a shadow of sadness clouding his features. “I really miss the old him,” he murmured, the words hanging in the air like an unwelcome truth.
A sympathetic smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “I understand,” you replied softly.
His eyes met yours again, flickering with a glimmer of gratitude. “I know you do, and I’m sorry,” he said, the weight of guilt evident in his voice. His brow furrowed, and you could see the internal struggle playing out in his expression.
Confusion prickled at your insides as you tilted your head, seeking clarity. “For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the uncertainty gnawing at you.
Taehyung hesitated, biting his lip as if the words were lodged in his throat. “I just feel bad that you’re here working with him, knowing he doesn’t remember you.” His tone carried an edge of sorrow that wrapped around your heart like a cold grip.
“It’s not a great feeling,” you admitted, your voice thick with unspoken truths. You withheld the most painful detail, Jimin was the father of your child, a piece of your heart he didn’t even remember.
“He’s changed so much as a person,” you continued, the words spilling out before you could hold them back. “It’s not the same sweet, caring Jimin that I knew.” A wave of longing crashed over you, an ache for the man you loved that felt as fresh as the day he left.
Taehyung nodded, his expression sombre, a mirror of your own sadness. “Understandable. The accident caused a personality change. I’m not the only one he cut off, and he…” He paused abruptly, fear flickering in his eyes, as if he was teetering on the edge of revealing too much.
Your curiosity surged, pushing you to probe further. “Wait, does Mr. Durand know about his accident?” you asked, your heart thumping in your chest.
Taehyung shook his head, his brows knitting together. “No, I just said we fell out recently.” His voice was guarded.
“Do you still love him?” Taehyung asked suddenly, his tone shifting from guarded to sincere, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
You shifted your gaze from Jimin’s retreating figure to Taehyung’s earnest expression.
A soft breeze rustled through the lobby, sending a shiver down your spine, reminding you of the weight of everything left unsaid.
You inhaled deeply, grounding yourself as your heart raced. “I don’t know,” you finally confessed, your voice a whisper tinged with uncertainty. “I love the old Jimin with my whole being, but this Jimin is a stranger.”
Taehyung’s eyes held a mixture of sorrow and understanding, a mirror reflecting your own heartache. “I don’t know if the old Jimin will come back,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “I miss my best friend so much. It’s like he’s died because I don't know this person"
His serious expression cut through the noise of the bustling lobby, amplifying the weight of Jimin’s transformation. The toll it had taken on their friendship was evident in every crease on Taehyung’s brow.
“I really hope he gets his memories back before it’s too late,” Taehyung continued, urgency creeping into his voice.
“Otherwise, you might want to tell yourself that too.”
-
As the days blurred into a dizzying routine of meetings and emails, you found yourself navigating the bustling corridors of the magazine.
Each encounter with Jimin sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you, frustration, longing, and an undeniable sense of nostalgia.
While Jungkook could have easily taken on the role of translator, Durand insisted on your presence for the task. Gradually, Jimin grew accustomed to your presence, relying on your assistance more and more.
Days slipped by, and your responsibilities shifted. You were no longer just a writer; you were Jimin’s unexpected crutch.
Jungkook, the ever-optimistic member of the team, would sometimes look at you with an expression that said he felt your frustration, but all you could do was plaster on your professional mask and play the part.
After another gruelling meeting, you were summoned to Chae-Won’s office. The moment you stepped inside, her icy demeanour hit you like a cold wave.
“What is this?” She thrust a piece of paper toward you, the red marks glaring against the white page. Your recent article stared back at you, its flaws highlighted like a glaring spotlight.
Confusion twisted in your gut. “What didn’t you like about it?” you asked, your voice faltering slightly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, searching her face for a hint of kindness.
“Everything,” she shot back, her voice slicing through the air. The words hit you hard, leaving you momentarily speechless. You’d poured your heart into that piece.
You swallowed hard, disappointment welling up inside you. “I’m sorry, I will edit it,” you said, frustration rising within you, but you struggled to keep it in check.
“You need to rewrite the whole thing.” Her tone was unyielding, leaving no room for negotiation. It felt like a gut punch.
A wave of disappointment washed over you. Had you really messed up that badly? Or was this just her way of exerting control? Doubts crept in, tightening the knot in your stomach.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, forcing yourself to stay calm. “Yes, ma’am,” you replied, trying to hide the resentment simmering just beneath the surface.
“Good. I want it on my desk first thing in the morning.” She emphasized the last part, her eyes piercing through you.
“Tomorrow?” You gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. “But I have to prepare for the photoshoot tonight.” Panic began to claw at your insides, making it hard to think straight.
She rolled her eyes, dismissing your concern. “That’s not my problem. You’ve been too distracted with this French project when you should be focusing on your actual work.”
Frustration bubbled beneath your skin, and you pointed out, “But I’m helping Mr. Park.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, an instinctive defence of Jimin.
“Again, not my problem. Just make sure it’s done.” With that, she turned her back on you, clearly done with the conversation. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you left her office.
Stepping back into the open space, you inhale deeply to steady yourself. The weight of your responsibilities felt suffocating.
-
"Good morning, Y/N," Durand greeted you the next morning, his cheerful attitude, a stark contrast to the exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders.
You mustered a weary "Morning" in response, unable to conjure a smile to match his infectious enthusiasm.
Concern creased Durand’s brow as he noticed your lack of energy. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone genuine. He could see that your usual spark was dimmed, and it troubled him.
You sighed, fatigue settling in your bones. "Just a late night working. I had to rewrite an article."
Durand’s surprise was evident, his eyes widening slightly. “But you were here working late last night too,” he exclaimed, disbelief colouring his voice.
You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips, trying to reassure him. “It’s all part of the job when you work for a fashion magazine,” you explained, the weariness in your voice reflecting the pressures of your role.
Durand opened his mouth to say more, concern etched across his features, but before he could continue, Jungkook and Taehyung sauntered onto the set.
Instantly, the energy in the room shifted. Whispers of excitement rippled through the female staff members as their eyes darted toward the two striking figures.
Admiring glances and hushed giggles filled the air, everyone captivated by their presence.
Jungkook radiated a certain charm, his tall, athletic frame drawing attention effortlessly. His dark hair framed his face perfectly, highlighting his sharp features and the mischievous glint in his eyes.
When he smiled, a subtle dimple appeared in his cheek, amplifying his boyish appeal.
Taehyung, on the other hand, exuded a quiet confidence. His height, paired with his dark hair and intense gaze, seemed to command the room.
There was a vulnerability in his expression, but it only added to the magnetism he radiated. The depth in his eyes hinted at hidden stories and untold emotions, making him even more intriguing.
The pair moved through the set with effortless style, their fashionable outfits enhancing their natural attractiveness. Their casual grace drew admiration from everyone around, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.
Durand watched their entrance with a mix of pride and amusement. It was clear that Jungkook and Taehyung possessed a unique charm that transcended mere looks, igniting an extra spark of enthusiasm for the day ahead.
As Jungkook and Durand excused themselves to set up, you found yourself pulled into a conversation with Taehyung.
His smile offered a momentary escape from the hectic surroundings, a flicker of warmth in your chaotic world.
But then, you noticed a sudden shift in Taehyung’s demeanour. His body tensed, and his eyes focused intently on something behind you.
A curse slipped from his lips, barely above a whisper. “Fuck.”
Curiosity piqued, you turned to follow his gaze and saw Chae-Won approaching.
"Taehyung," she greeted, her voice tinged with formality, like a chilly breeze sweeping through the room.
"Chae-Won," he replied curtly, his expression flattening to an unreadable mask.
Chae-Won attempted to engage him in polite conversation, asking, “How are you?” But the air thickened with an unspoken tension, and you could sense the underlying friction in their exchange.
"Fine," Taehyung responded brusquely, his tone clipped and clearly reluctant to continue the conversation.
Sensing the standoffishness, Chae-Won nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. "It's good to see you," she offered, casting a fleeting glance your way before moving on to attend to other matters.
The encounter left you surprised; the lingering tension between them was palpable. Unable to hold back your curiosity, you raised an eyebrow and asked, “You know each other?”
Taehyung’s gaze shifted, his expression morphing into one of guardedness laced with frustration.
“Yes,” he replied simply, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. He glowered in Chae-Won’s direction before forcing a sheepish smile as he turned back to you.
“We have a... history,” he admitted, his words trailing off, tinged with a bitterness that hung in the air like an uninvited guest.
“What?” you practically screeched, the shock of the revelation echoing in your voice.
The idea of Taehyung and Chae-Won having a past sent your mind spinning, and your eyes darted between Taehyung and the back of Chae-Won’s head, trying to reconcile the image of the two of them together.
He smacked his lips together, a strained expression twisting his features. “Yeah,” he nodded, avoiding your gaze as he watched Durand and Jungkook.
Curiosity pulled at you, compelling you to probe deeper. “What happened?” you inquired, scepticism colouring your tone. From everything you knew of Taehyung, he didn’t seem like the type to get tangled up with someone like Chae-Won.
His face hardened, lips pursing tightly as he shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it, but let’s just say she fucked things up,” he admitted, a hint of pain seeping through his otherwise calm façade.
A dry chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Why am I not surprised?” you remarked, rolling your eyes as if the revelation was just another piece of the bizarre puzzle that was your workplace.
Taehyung's surprise flickered in his eyes as he countered, “Do you know her well?”
You emitted a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “She’s my boss.”
His gaze turned curious, studying you intently. “Oh... it doesn’t sound like you’re a fan of hers either,” he observed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You offered a wry smile in return. “She doesn’t make things easy, let’s put it that way.”
Taehyung nodded, the understanding in his expression creating a fleeting bond between you two, united in your shared frustrations with Chae-Won.
Just then, Durand’s voice sliced through the conversation, unamused and sharp. “What is she doing here?” he interjected, pointing at Chae-Won, drawing the attention of a few onlookers.
Chae-Won turned to face him, arms folded and posture firm as she responded in her best French, her voice confident and unwavering. “Mr. Park asked me to be here.”
Coincidentally, as if summoned by her words, Jimin stepped onto the set, and his presence thickened the already charged atmosphere. “Is there a problem?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow as he scanned the scene.
“I said for her to not be involved in this,” you quickly translated for Durand, your heart racing as you tried to keep pace with the escalating tension.
“She works for me, and she will do what I ask her,” Jimin retorted angrily, his words slicing through the air.
You stumbled slightly, caught between the two men, the weight of the situation pressing down on you as you struggled to translate their heated exchange.
Jimin’s stern voice sliced through the tension-filled air. “She is here simply to observe,” he stated firmly, asserting his authority with an air of finality that brooked no argument.
Durand exchanged a knowing glance with Jungkook, the silent communication between them clear as day. “She stays far away from any of us and doesn’t utter a word,” he stipulated, emphasising the need for Chae-Won’s minimal involvement.
Jimin nodded, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, a hint of wariness creeping into his tone. “Will we have a problem?”
Taehyung responded with an exaggerated eye-roll, a playful grin lighting up his face as he casually draped his arm around your shoulder.
“Nope, no problem at all!” he declared with a mock-seriousness that sent a wave of warmth through you. The camaraderie between you was evident, and you couldn’t help but smile at his antics.
Jimin’s frown deepened at this display of unity, his gaze lingering on the two of you for a moment.
You could sense the frustration radiating off him, but he chose to remain silent.
As the photoshoot unfolded, Taehyung effortlessly embodied the essence of the clothing designs.
He moved with a natural grace, striking captivating poses that brought the garments to life, his expressive features enhancing each shot.
Jungkook’s keen eye for detail ensured that every frame was a testament to the collaboration’s success, capturing not just the clothes but the energy of the moment.
When the final frames were captured and the team began to wind down, you noticed Durand making his way toward you, his hopeful expression and charming smile brightening his face.
“We’re going for dinner. Do you want to join?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as eager anticipation radiated from his body, his excitement palpable.
“I would love to, but I have to get back for my son,” you replied in a hushed tone, quickly glancing around to ensure no one else had heard your confession.
Durand’s brow furrowed slightly as he observed your cautiousness. He leaned in a fraction closer, lowering his voice. “They don’t know?” he inquired, curiosity and concern weaving together in his tone.
You shook your head softly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing your features.
Your shoulders tensed slightly, the weight of your secret pressing down. “I prefer to keep my personal life private,” you explained, your voice tinged with a hint of guardedness that you hoped would convey your need for discretion.
“My lips are sealed,” he promised, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. “But promise you will join me next time?” His charming smile made it hard to resist, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the thought of spending more time with him.
“I promise,” you replied, returning his smile, even as a flicker of uncertainty danced in the back of your mind.
summary: a new job as a barista should be easy enough, right? except it gets a whole lot more complicated when the coffee shop's most loved client just decides he has to have you OR richboy!jk falls for barista!reader and refuses to give up.
content: richboy!jk, downbad!jk, barista!reader, sub-ish!jk, reader plays hard to get just for plot purposes, jk is down horribly bad for reader, afab reader, smut, dry humping, jk's the embodiment of needy, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.8k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: october 22nd
or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!
a/n: downbad!jk is back!
masterlist | patreon
"Anyways just be careful with how many pumps you add to drinks. Customers can be extremely sensitive about that kind of stuff. Trust me," rambled on your new trainer, Jen? Jess? Something like that.
You watched disinterested, already having had a menial barista job in the past and being well aware of the high expectations of disgruntled customers. You, too, had been verbally harassed by one too many people in dire need of a drink far too specific for the average person to memorize. It was still appreciated, though, the effort she took in walking you through every step to ensure you did good at your new position.
Despite your focus on the task being demonstrated to you not being at its best, you did take notice when Jean(?) stopped her mentoring and instead spilled some of the drink she was currently making, clearly now equally as distracted as you. Her focus was no longer on the counter you were practicing drinks on, but instead looking past you and towards the counter a few steps behind you.
You meant to call out her name to question her, but without an angle on her name tag or any confidence in actually remembering the correct name, you simply grabbed at a nearby towel and cleaned off the mess, not bothering to look at whatever was distracting her. It was too early for you to bother.
Snapping out of her trance mere seconds later, she tapped at your shoulder urgently, her voice now a whisper as she leaned close for you to hear what she was about to say.
"Oh my God, don't look, but that's Jungkook," she whispered excitedly, as if letting you in on information you had any context about — hint: you had no idea who nor what she was referring to.
Turning around, you eyed another one of your new coworkers tending to the line at the counter, but more specifically helping out some guy. Focusing your eyes on him, you could now understand why his presence had caused a short-circuit in Jane (?) and why she felt the need to announce his presence to you.
The distraction in question presented itself in the form of a very tall and fit guy, one with a fully tattooed sleeve and dreamy black curls. Other outstanding attributes were the very obvious muscles encompassing his entire body and the shine that came from the various piercings on his face. In short, the man was nothing short of a dream straight from a Pinterest board — and the charisma radiating from his mere presence did not help matters.
"He's a regular. No one really knows much about him other than he's rich. He tips like 200% above his total," continued June, still leaning in your direction to whisper.
You felt bad at how obvious you were whilst staring at the boy, but he was likely the prettiest one you'd seen in a while. The blank expression in your stare did not tell on you, but it did not deny the fact that you were staring.
"We take turns serving him," your coworker informed you, "Sometimes we fight over it. He's a natural flirt, but he does it with everyone, so we're not sure if he's taken or not," she proceeded to tell you benign details about him that had you nodding along as you continued to stare at him.
The usually fast-paced place seemed to slow down when he entered the coffee shop, with most baristas' attentions going to him rather than their jobs. If he was aware of it, he was good at ignoring it, instead giving a flashy smile to the lucky barista currently tending to him. From the short distance between you, you were unable to hear his conversation, but you still had a perfect view of him as he simply existed. He could easily see you, as there was nothing in his way, but he hadn't yet, somehow oblivious to the attention he was receiving from all other baristas in the house.
As time stood still for everyone else, it continued normally for him. He paid for his drink, having it quickly bypass all other prior orders and made immediately by one of the many girls fawning at him. God, even the two baristas working the drive-thru had taken a short break from it go gawk.
It wasn't until moments later that Jungkook seemed to get a taste of his own medicine, with his own time suddenly coming to a halt. As he turned around to leave, sweet drink now in hand, his eyes incidentally met yours, causing him to pause mid turn and do a double take in order to catch your eyes again.
It was ridiculous, really. Almost too identical to those moments you'd see in those dumb romcoms you used to enjoy as a teenager. Except this was actually happening. And it was happening to you. As all your new coworkers watched his every move with extreme attention.
His eyes widened a bit. It was something the naked eye might've missed, but not you (nor the other five girls watching). His head tilted a bit to the side — maybe in curiosity due to not having seen you there before (Joanne did mention he was a regular). A ghost of a smirk took over the natural smile that had been on his lips since arrival. And lastly, a nod was sent your way — a nod in acknowledgment to your presence, but also with a flirtatious hint to it. It was hard to describe. You simply had to be there.
You remained watching him with a poker face throughout. The same poker face you'd had since clocking in to work that morning. It wasn't that you were mean or not a people person, you simply hated work. You'd been told you had a bit of a resting bitch face and gave a mean impression to those who didn't know you, but that was beside the point. The pretty boy whose attention you'd caught had gotten lucky, though, as he at least received the ghost of a smile from you before he left.
The first thing to occur upon his departure was a squeal from your left. The perpetrator? Julie (or whatever her name was).
"Oh my god!," she let out, grabbing onto your shoulder so you'd face her, "Did you see that?"
"See what?", you asked, not 100% sure of what had just happened.
"He totally checked you out . He's never done that before. Maybe he likes you? God, don't let Lila find out, she's got a huge crush on him," she informed you, once again assuming you knew who the hell Lila was.
"Hah, I think he might've just been surprised to see a new face," you downplayed, "What were you explaining before he got here? The thing with the pumps and the-"
"He comes here every morning at 8 or so. How about you take his order tomorrow? Y'know, just to test my theory," she suggested, disregarding your question.
"Orders? It's my first day here. Isn't training like two weeks lon-"
"It's fine! I'll be shadowing you. You'll do great! Now let's get back to your training-"
"Jane! I need more change at drive thru!", called one of the drive thru girls, interrupting your conversation.
"Coming, Lila!", she responded, giving you a polite smile before handing you the shaker she had just been holding, "Just practice some drinks how I taught you. I'll be right back to show you how to work the register."
So her name was Jane. And that was Lila.
At least you learned something today.
...
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for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
MINI PLAYLIST:
♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars
♫ juno — sabrina carpenter
♫ selfish — *nsync
♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment.
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world.
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt.
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you.
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours.
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me a reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be far, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect.
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked
Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that…
Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol
Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay
You: i’m sorry too for what i did
You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already???
Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need
You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.
“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated.
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh.
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss.
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡
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