#fic:laab | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavienjin · 3 years

Text

love ain't a business: prologue

synopsis: You've resigned yourself in all manners of love after a messy breakup with your most recent ex. Amidst your sadness, your best friend offers you a loveless marriage contract solely in exchange for your presence in the many galas he has to attend as second-in-line to the Jeon Corp. It's a win-win situation for you both; Jaehyun no longer has to fight off random mothers that try to set him up with their very eligible daughters and you can live in peace with his fortune at your disposal.

Everything was perfect and you even managed to fool his closest relatives into believing that you're disgustingly in love with one another... all except for one.

Jeon Jungkook, the eldest of the two and direct heir to the family company, has returned from overseeing the newest branch in Japan to ruin your arrangement. His one resort? Blackmail. Now, not only do you have to convince him that your relationship is real, you have to stop him from spilling the shameful secret that will ruin your plan: that you and Jungkook had a previous arrangement that not even Jaehyun is aware of.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/rating/au: 18+ | best friend's brother, enemies to lovers, (past) friends with benefits, fake dating au | angst

word count: 3.6k

warnings: swearing • alcohol consumption • infidelity mention

author's note: huge thanks to @missgeniality for looking through the outline and talking with me through some loop holes!! also i had no idea that jaehyun is a real person so some of the descriptions won't fit the idol because he wasn't meant to be based on the idol LMAO I'M SORRY!! tell me your predictions, send me some constructive criticism, or what you think about the prologue as a whole!!

crosspost: ao3 | wattpad | inkitt

chapter index | general m.list

↠ prologue | [01] | [02] | [03] | [04] | [05] | [06] | [07] | [08] | epilogue

The glass is cold as you stare down the neck of the bottle, gauging how much liquid is left inside. You watch the liquor slosh around the dark-green, translucent walls before taking a noisy gulp straight from the opening, ignoring the intended use of the stout shot-glass placed in front of you. Slamming the bottle down with a grunt, you rest your head on wooden bar, pretending that your heart isn’t hurting and you’re not drinking your sorrows away.

Today is tinged with a hazy blur – memories of you and your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, trading blows like clashes of steel in the hallway of your apartment. He had blamed his affair on you; for being too busy to make time for him. You grit your teeth at the fresh bloom of pain. Sitting up abruptly, the grip around the bottle tightens as you drink, head tipped back and barely catching a breath as you focus on the burn of alcohol instead of the one in your heart.

“Shitty night?” the bartender inquired, wiping down the glass in her hands.

You don’t answer her immediately, eyes still fixated on the drink. Taking a smaller sip this time, you wipe the dribbling liquid from the corner of your lip with the back of your hand, smiling ruefully at the stranger before replying, “You have no idea.”

She slides the cup she cleaned into its designated spot, an eyebrow cocking upwards as she takes in your disheveled appearance. You had gone straight to the bar after forcibly removing Daeseong from your life, ripping out polaroids and chucking his things into a trash bag that you placed outside of your apartment for him to pick up.

“Want to tell me about it or should I call someone for you?”

“I’m good, I texted a friend to come get me. Thank you, though.” The lopsided smile you throw her is genuine, gratefulness warming your chest at the empathy displayed by a complete stranger. The bartender says nothing more after a quick nod of acknowledgement before she moves on to attend the other patrons.

It only takes a few more minutes for said friend to show up, siddling next to you with a warm hand on your shoulder. “You okay, sailor? I haven’t seen you this drunk since…”

…’my brother left’, you finish for him in your mind.

You shake your head a few times in an effort to silence him, refusing to hear yet another name from the past. Thankfully, he understands and keeps his pink mouth shut, though his lips form into a grim line. Even with your bleary vision, you can see the mixture of pity and sympathy in his familiar obsidian eyes. He must’ve come straight here from his office upon receiving your text because he’s wearing a light coat over his navy blue suit, a deep contrast to your tee shirt and shorts. Ignoring the way the room begins to sway, you take another gulp. The bottle is halfway empty.

“Jaehyun,” you greet him with a sideways hug when he finally sits on the stool next to you. Pushing the bottle of soju you’re holding into his hand, you slur, “Wanna drink?”

He smiles when his hands wrap around the bottle, but he doesn’t take a sip. Instead, he slides it down the bar; away from your reach.“No, someone has to drive you back home safely.”

Scowling, your flailing arms try to grab at the elusive liquor, but Jaehyun has you firmly rooted in your spot, his large hand pushing your shoulders down as he gestures for the bartender for the check. The same girl takes his card and tells him his total; to which he merely nods, barely balking at the amount of zeroes on the till, a quick ‘thanks’ leaving his lips when he slides it back in his wallet.

“Wanna tell me why you’re here?” Despite the curt tone, his eyes are soft, worry etched in every line of his face.

“You know why I’m here. I texted you about it.” You jab a finger into his side, making him snicker. Smiling for a moment, you join him in laughter before hot tears slide down your cheeks. “Why can’t I find a decent guy in this fucking city?” you wail, planting your face into your crossed arms on the bar. “Daeseong, that fucking bastard. I can’t believe I dated him.”

Jaehyun listens quietly as you complain about your most recent ex – about the suspicious text messages in his phone that he won’t let you read, the dodgy answers about his whereabouts over the past few weeks, and finally, at the fading imprint of a hickey on his neck when he came to visit you today. You called it quits before he finished unlacing his shoes. As the shouting increased in volume, your saintly neighbour decided to poke his head out the door to make sure you’re okay, sandwiching himself between you and Daeseon before warning him to leave you the fuck alone. You relished the fury in Daeseong’s face – nose flaring and cheeks red as he stared at the large man in front of him. You were hoping he’d throw the first punch, but alas, your ex was thinking with the head between his shoulders for once and chose to walk away, kicking the garbage can in frustration before disappearing down the stairs.

Mind thoroughly fogged with alcohol, your slurred retelling of the events are incoherent even to your own ears and you find yourself leaning into your best friend; your head resting on his shoulder when you eventually run out of breath in your rant.

Sometime while you were describing Daeseong’s choice of words when you broke up with him, the bartender placed a large, cold glass of water in front of you, the sympathetic smile on her face letting you know that she understands what you’re going through. You teared up as you thanked her, wishing nothing but the best for that saint of a woman.

“I can’t believe I gave that guy a chance.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you fiddle with the straw in your glass. The water is a blessing to your stinging throat that you finish the entire thing in one go, causing your head to throb feebly at the incoming brain freeze. Wincing slightly, you push the empty glass away, only for the bartender to replace it with a full one wordlessly.

“I may have a solution for your problem, unless you just want comfort tonight,” Jaehyun responds haltingly.

You study your friend sitting next to you while you take another sip of water. He’s rubbing his palms over his slacks, eyes flitting between your face and the bar. When you motion for him to speak, he inhales sharply through his nose. “Okay, so you know how my parents have been on my ass about getting married despite my aversion to everything romantic?” he begins, tapping his forefinger on the oak rhythmically. You nod, recalling the countless invitations requesting his presence to brunches or dinners that would interrupt your hang out sessions with him. He continues. “Well, it’s only gotten worse.”

“Worse how?”

“As if I’m not already exhausted after a day working in the office and attending these ridiculous galas… They’ve now set me up with one-on-one blind dates without telling me,” Jaehyun groans, his fingers brushing back the locks that fall in front of his face. “It might not be the right time, given your current situation, but I was wondering if you’d like to do me a huge favour?”

Your heart goes out for your friend. He’s confided in you about being aromantic and asexual during college; perfectly happy of his status and accomplishments without having the desire to share it with anyone. Though you can’t say you understand, you’ve always been proud every time he marched around campus subtly wearing his pride colours – a hint of purple or green in the form of a tie or a pocket square paired with every black or grey suit – and have supported him to the best of your abilities while he laments about his parents’ lack of compassion.

His parents – the Jeons – were… traditional, for lack of a better term. They place a lot of value in their child-centric ideals and had been heartbroken when Jaehyun revealed that he would be taking no such part in continuing the family bloodline, placing the responsibility on the eldest Jeon instead. Rather than listening to their child, Mr. and Mrs. Jeon has since come up with schemes, each more elaborate than the next, the largest one being a party every other weekend where they invite eligible bachelorettes in their circle, hoping Jaehyun would change his mind after ‘clicking’ with the right girl. Each attempt has failed and with every new face Jaehyun meets, the rift between him and his parents only grew. It wasn’t long until the stress snapped his patience in half, which led to a screaming match and ended with him moving out of his parents home and into his current apartment in the city. From what he’s shared, the relationship hasn’t gotten better, but it hasn’t deteriorated for the worse either – until now.

“If it’s within my power, of course I’ll help you, Jae,” you whisper, squeezing his shoulder in support.

Jaehyun offers you a dimpled, lopsided smile, placing his hand over yours to squeeze back. “Thank you. I’m glad we met. You’ve been incredibly supportive when no one else was.” He swallows thickly and you spy the unshed tears, though you pretend not to notice, retracting your hand and placing it around the cool glass of water instead.

After taking a shuddering breath, he starts to explain his thoughts. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to deny my request. This is going to sound insane, but, will you marry me—for the purpose of fooling my parents and nothing more,” he stammers quickly when you begin to protest, blinking at him in surprise. “We’ll pretend to get engaged. Tonight. We’ll come up with a backstory about how we started dating and all that shit tomorrow, but I think this will get them off my back once and for all.”

You snort at his audacity, staring at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. Mumbling under your breath, you curse at him for taking away your soju. “You’re right. This is insane with a capital ‘I’, Jae. I know I said I’ll help you, but this is huge.”

“I know, I know, but we can just pretend to be a happy couple, go get married, and then get a divorce afterwards. Please? I’m drowning here.”

At the sound of his cracked voice, you force yourself to observe him, staring at the desperation in his eyes, the dark circles underneath, and the slightly disheveled hair. Guilt tugs at your heart strings. In your own misery, you had overlooked the dismal state of your best friend behind the fancy clothes, thinking life must’ve been pleasant for him since he’s born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Sighing, you bring the straw to your lips, drinking some more water. “What’s in it for me?”

His shoulders sag and he closes his eyes for a moment as he exhales quietly. “Anything,” Jaehyun promises, a hint of desperation clinging to his voice. “Oh! I know, you can quit your job at the café, so you can focus on your masters. I’ll even pay for the tuition. You can live with me too, since it’ll be closer to your campus.”

You weigh the options in your mind, though your alcohol-addled brain refused to do any of the legwork. “So, let me get this straight. You want us to get married in exchange for money, essentially, because you’re convinced that this is the only way for your parents to back off?”

Jaehyun nods slowly and then more enthusiastically when you finish reiterating his plan, eyes bright with a light that makes you look away. He’s too hopeful; too trusting, even if you are his friend. He grasps your hands in his, squeezing it tight. “At least tell me you’ll think about it? Pretend to be my lawfully wedded wife for a year?” he implores, dark, large eyes staring straight at you.

You’re not equipped to handle this… proposal – not with heartbreak and alcohol nipping at your heels. But it’s hard to deny him of this request, especially when he’s been your support through major life changes. In your haze, you exhale slowly, closing your eyes as you ruminate your choices. You allow your mind to drift; to think of Daeseong and all the other men you’ve had the displeasure to date in the past. You think about love; a feeling you sought out for so long only to have it slip away constantly – be it in the hands of the wrong person or just wrong timing in general.

Finally, you think of him. The eldest Jeon. A name you have stopped uttering after countless of sleepless nights with your phone in your hand as you pace around your apartment, wondering if you should call to see how he’s doing. Your hesitancy stems from the fact that he hasn’t tried to contact you either since he left for Japan all those years ago. With every passing season where your phone doesn’t come alive, you’d given up hope in ever seeing him again, eventually tucking your relationship in a box and putting it away, next to all the others that have ended in a bittersweet manner. Accepting this proposal meant encountering him, knowing how much he fiercely loves his brother. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help but wonder. How would he feel upon receiving this news? Would he care? And a more bitter thought crosses your mind. Why should you?

But your mind refuses to stop, much to your body’s displeasure as you continue to think in the dimly lit bar until your vision blurs white with pain. Choosing to focus on the problem at hand and not at imaginary scenarios, you lay out the facts: your best friend needs you and it’s something within your power. You’re even benefitting from all this, using his seemingly endless funds to fuel your dreams of finishing your masters and maybe opening that shop you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. The thought of your achievements being handed to you on a silver platter feels hollow – empty, but without financial support coming from anywhere else, it’s an offer too tempting for you to decline. Plus, every relationship has an expiry date anyway – a disonance that creeps up on you; one where you no longer feel butterflies in your stomach and the sound of their voice makes you grit your teeth – this one just happens to have it clearly outlined.

“Fuck it, I’m done with finding love. What’s the worst that could happen?” you grumble bitterly.

Jaehyun’s head snaps to you at the sound of your voice. “What was that?”

When you speak, you stare straight into the glass, unable to stand the hope in his eyes. “Half a year,” you bargain. “We’ll plan a wedding, we’ll get married, and we’ll divorce after half a year.”

The chair clatters to the ground as he stands abruptly and you find Jaehyun enveloping you in a crushing hug, nearly toppling you off your chair as he cheers. “Deal!” he exclaims, whispering words of thanks into your hair. “Seriously, thank you so much. I’m gonna call my mum!”

You extract yourself from his embrace as he lifts his phone to his ear, jabbering instantly to his mother about his newfound (fake) relationship with you. There’s a disquiet in your stomach that’s not caused by alcohol as you watch him; eyes alight with child-like wonder as he prattles off a half-baked story about how you started dating. Upon seeing the joy that Jaehyun exudes, you almost stumble as you hop off the stool because in that moment, in the dimly lit bar, he’s a spitting image of his brother; all dimples and soft eyes.

And you had to bury the resurfaced feeling of longing back to where it belonged.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

“There’s a line for you, sir.”

Jungkook looks up from his keyboard, puzzled as he takes the sleek, black cellphone from his assistant’s extended hand. He hadn’t heard him come in, too focused on his work. Upon seeing the caller ID, his features soften, no longer annoyed at being interrupted.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” he grins, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.

Lifting the device to his ears, Jungkook stands from his chair, going over to his bookshelf where he keeps his collection of family portraits in front of all his accounting books. He picks one up and smiles softly at it, wiping away the thin dust accumulated on the glass with his thumb. “Hi, mum,” he answers.

His grin broadens as she launches into a tizzy about his well-being, rapidly asking questions about his health. “I’m okay, mum, I swea—Yes, I’m taking my multivitamins every day. Exercising as well,” Jungkook chuckles. “Did you like the tea I sent you?” Before the words fully leave his mouth, Mrs. Jeon is already thanking him and letting him know that she’s drinking it right now. His mother always interrupts him, a habit he used to hate, but now has grown fond of after years of living apart. He places the portrait back to its original spot before walking deliberately across the expanse of his bookshelf, gazing at each picture.

The portraits on his shelf range from younger images of Jungkook and his younger brother Jaehyun, smiling with missing teeth to the camera, all the way to a more formal setting, one taken with a professional photographer for the company website. Jungkook observes them all, a pang of homesickness washing over him while he continues to affirm his mother’s rants with occasional hums.

“Anyway, I’m here to call about your brother! Did Jaehyun tell you yet, hon?” his mother asks excitedly. “He’s finally getting married!”

Jungkook stops his pacing, almost colliding with the leather armchair his guests normally sit on while they have meetings in his office. In all the years he’s lived under the same roof with Jaehyun, the younger Jeon has never brought a girl home, let alone date. And now he’s getting married? Jungkook admits – he’s impressed by whichever girl managed to tame his younger brother’s heart.

He shares his enthusiasm with his mother, joking about beating Jaehyun up for not mentioning the news. It’s Jungkook’s turn to interrupt her as she launches into a drivel over the bridal bouquet. “So, who’s the lucky girl?”

“Oh, you know her, Jungkook!” she laughs and Jungkook hears her sip quickly before adding, “She’s the one that comes over pretty often during college. The nice one!”

And it’s the mention of your name that catches him completely off guard. Time stands still and Jungkook feels like he’s no longer breathing, the air suffocating and leaving his lungs. Instead of his mother’s voice, it’s his own thundering pulse roaring in his ears. He doesn’t hear the goodbyes and reminders to come home soon, robotically agreeing to everything she says. Even when the call ends, he stands frozen in place, cellphone still pressed to his ear.

A knock on his glass door breaks him from his thoughts. Jungkook hears Taehyung’s call, but his limbs refuse to move. Taehyung steps closer hesitantly, his own face mirroring Jungkook’s confusion.

“Sir?” he calls again, extracting the phone from Jungkook’s grasp. “Did you hear me? You have a one o’clock. Would you like some refreshments prior to the meeting?”

Jungkook only turns his head and stares at his assistant. He blinks.

“Jungkook? Hey, man, you okay? You’re really creeping me out,” Taehyung chuckles nervously, dropping the visage of being his assistant to transition into the role of his best friend. “What happened with the phone call?”

Silence.

Taehyung reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing experimentally. “Jung—"

“Cancel all my appointments effective immediately – or better yet, find a way to make them all online.” Jungkook finally finds his voice, the cogworks in his brain registering his mother’s words as he speeds towards his desk. “I’m going to step away from the office for a few weeks. Get Jimin to bring me a laptop so I can work remotely,” he orders, leaning over the computer and typing furiously to get all his data in the cloud.

Taehyung remains rooted on the spot, stuttering as he demands for an explanation, but Jungkook holds a tattooed hand up to silence him, repeating his commands in a more forceful tone. When he still doesn’t budge, Jungkook slams his hand on his desk, the loud thud making the brunette flinch. “Now, Taehyung,” he barks, dark eyes narrowed into slits. Mouth turned into a grim line, his assistant snaps to attention and nods before turning on his heel.

“One more thing.” Jungkook stops him just as Taehyung’s hand grazes the door handle of his office. He rummages and fishes his leather wallet from his slacks, tossing it carelessly into the air. Taehyung catches it with practiced ease, tilting his head in confusion. “I don’t care how much it costs. Book me a flight back home immediately.”

↠ prologue | [01] | [02] | [03] | [04] | [05] | [06] | [07] | [08] | epilogue

she's finally here! what do you think?

join the taglist (dm to be removed)! @hey-youre-appreciated @codeinebelle @sugaslittlekookies @outrofenty @chimmy-licious @Starbrightday @fancycollectormoon @taecal @sunflwrxclouds @btsis7okay @novilara @love2luvya-blog @jikookiekosmos @jkbabiey @squeakymeekster @Madamdoue @kookieebangtan @yoontaethings @nochuel @vantxx95 @jungkookah-lover @sa1ntsuga @imcompletelyok @typical-taekook @hoseokstrashcan @jimilter @tenmonthsjay @kookie-vuitton @syazkook @kooafraid @typicalgenzworld @moonchild1 @nch327 @somewhereofftheglobe @thedarkwinterrose @fan-ati—c @seolaseoul @lesgetittkookie @yeoreos @claricedelune @taegularities

537 notes · View notes