It's My 3 Year Anniversary On Tumblr 🥳

It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Thanks to Tumblr. I really forgot when I actually joined. This notification helped me remember 😁.

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l'aquelarre

the cute owner of a strange shop casts a spell on you… or does he?

pairing: witch!jungkook x human!reader genre: magic au, angst, humour, fluff, s2f2l word count: 13.5k warnings: street harassment briefly in the intro, mentions of sex and death, drinking, swearing, addiction (to magic) author’s note: started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit!

The moon shone brighter than usual tonight.

Even if your whole city were to suffer a blackout, you were certain it was bright enough to light the empty streets you were walking through. But beautiful as though the sight may be, it put you in a bad mood, as it was a sign of how late you had got out of work.

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koorosie

3 years ago

to build a home | chapter five

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. eventual smut.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: angst. swearing. alcohol. jealousy. no one is black-out drunk in this, oc’s just a lightweight! more heavy petting? idk anymore. mentions of sex and virginity.

author’s note: hii! this was quite healing to write, tbh. it’s very angsty at times but the ending makes it all worth it! i feel like we need a little bit of love after last night’s interlude so i made sure to sprinkle some of that on this one. thank u for all ur love and feedback, i appreciate it more than you’ll ever know! i'm sending a million kisses your way <3 xxx

p.s. yes. this settles the jucy/yoocy debate. place your bets.

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Five

Your eyes are fixed to the perfectly cut orange wedge that floats on top of your Aperol Spritz. You circle your straw around it, the clink of the ice hitting the glass throwing you right back into time and space.

The music is muffled by the loud chatter of the people scattered around the bar. Some in tables, some standing in corners, aimlessly engaging in conversations that lead nowhere, everywhere – some just passing the time until its, quote on quote, morally correct to end up in each other’s beds.

You look up from your glass, abruptly thrown into your own aimless conversation.

“And then he proceeds to pay for my matcha latte with coins!” You turn to Lucy, who widens her eyes at Sky’s words in mock surprise. “And- ___, get this,” she says, snapping her fingers when she notices you’ve drifted for the majority of her recount, “he walked me home. Only he was riding that skateboard of his the whole way there! Ugh.”

“What’s so wrong about coins, though?” Lucy says, a little dumbfounded by this. You snort.

“Well,” Sky contemplates for a while. “I don’t know! The vibe was just off. And the waiter had to stand there for like ten thousand centuries as he counted them. One. By. One.”

Sky is not your friend.

Well, that is a loose statement. Let’s try again. Sky is someone that has fallen into the space between an acquaintance and those people you end up in the company of whenever you want to do just this – have aimless conversations in a bar. You can’t quite explain it but the mundanity of her problems is comforting at times. Like they bring some sort of universal balance that sets everything back into place.

If you let her, she’ll sit through five negronis and tell you about any recent atrocity that she stumbled upon. Today is the poor skateboarder that had to pay for her overpriced green tea with coins. You take a moment of silence for his spirit and hope he recovers well.

“Hold in there, Sky. You know what they say, a million thorns to get to the rose.” Lucy comforts as Sky sulks, sipping on her drink.

Nobody has ever said that. But Sky nods, sniffing a little, and you smile. Lucy is, without a doubt, walking straight into the gates of heaven.

“Ladies, on the house.” Jiwoo, former literary student and classmate, says as he places three shot glasses filled with a suspicious looking clear liquid.

He also bartends, hence your uncomfortable seating arrangement at the bar besides one another. The three of you are his personal cheerleaders as you keep him entertained through his shift and he keeps you, well, buzzed.

“I just think-” Sky starts, “I think I’m ready for my rose. Now.”

The three of you just nod in acknowledgement at her words. A sheepish smile adorns Jiwoo’s face, who successfully recovered after Sky crushed his spirit freshman year. He did not pay with coins but she did tell him his head was ‘a little too in the clouds’ after he confessed his undying love for a good Shakespearean drama.

You reach for the glass, eyeing it for a second before you decide, fuck it. As you bring the shot closer to your mouth you glance at Lucy whose eyes look frantic, wide in shock. You simply assume it’s a delayed reaction to Sky’s very own Shakespearean drama. As soon as the rim touches your lips, your neck draws back, closing your eyes as you down the Tequila in one swing.

“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you, ___!”

The awfully-familiar-but-not-quite-there voice startles you, opening your eyes and glancing at the direction of where it’s coming from. Your eyes widen in pure, utter terror, face wincing as the burn from the straight liqueur hits your throat, too consumed in the sight before you to bother reaching for a chaser. You let out a throaty cough.

The awfully familiar voice belongs to Taehyung, who, to no surprise, stands in a circle next to your seat at the bar with a set of familiar faces. One of them being Jungkook’s.

Your mind chants a string of highly explicit curse words that, for obvious reasons, you can’t voice.

“Hey, ___! Nice to see you again!” Jimin’s chirpy voice breaks you out of your ghostly trance.

“Uh- yeah. You too. It’s nice to…,” your voice drifts as your eyes meet Jungkook’s stern ones.

Fucking hell.

“Ah, don’t let him get to you. He’s done worse.” Yoongi muses, amusement evident in his voice. He’s even smiling. This moment is so awkward it even broke Yoongi.

Great.

Taehyung chuckles before he says, “I’m gonna go see if I can find us a table. This place is packed tonight, huh?”

“I’ll come with.” Yoongi says, voice back to his relaxed tone.

Jimin browses through the menu as Jungkook comes to stand next to you.

“Hey,” he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You nod, returning it with the same amount of awkwardness. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Sky chirps, making you both turn to her, “I’m Sky. Nice to meet you.” She extends her hand over you, offering it to Jungkook.

He shakes it, returning her introduction with a simple, “Jungkook.”

“How do you two know each other?” She rests her elbows on the bar, back turned to Lucy completely, as she cocks her head that rests between her hands. A dazzling, Colgate smile gracing her features.

“He’s my boss,” you say the last word with a certain edge to it, hoping it helps her tone her peacock wings down. But it is to no avail.

You look up at the ceiling, looking for your angels that seem to have clocked out for the day.

“Oh! You’re the owner of that cute baby she keeps yapping on about?”

Lucy’s fingers press at her temples, mentally cursing her own angels for this exceptional turn of events.

Jungkook all but gawks at her for a second too long before he says, “Yup. That’d be me. Owner of the cute baby.”

“Oh my god, cute! I love babies. Well, more like, babies love me.” She giggles, overly enthusiastic for the dullness of the exchange.

Jungkook smiles nervously at her. Jimin senses his discomfort and the overall awkwardness of the situation and steps in, coming to stand between Sky and Lucy.

“Hey, what are you drinking? It looks nice and refreshing.” He asks her.

“Oh, this? It’s a negroni. Super strong, but kind of picked up the habit during my semester abroad in Rome.” She takes a sip of her drink as she responds.

“Ah, that sounds nice.” He entertains that for about a second, giving her a genuine smile before he turns to Lucy. “Hi. I’m Jimin, and you?”

She glances at him, eyes long lost somewhere else as to brace herself from the situation. “Oh- um. Mint julep.” She says.

He chuckles softly, meeting her eyes before he shakes his head lightly. “No. I mean, what’s your name?”

She gasps a little in shock, an apologetic giggle leaving her lips. “I’m Lucy.”

“Lucy…” he contemplates, eyes fixated on the endless bottles on the other side of the bar. A small smile on his lips. He turns to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Lucy.”

1. That one time you stole a single cherry flavoured Chupa Chup from your local convenience store after your cousin, the juvenile delinquent, called you a wuss.

2. Breaking Micky, member of your grandma’s beloved porcelain kitten collection and denying it over and over again, resulting in her taking the belief her house was haunted to her death bed.

3. Cheating on that one math exam in fourth grade because the basic concept of geometry just wouldn’t get through you.

4. Letting your geeky science group partner feel you up in your bed whilst your parents were next door, at total peace with their daughter engaging in the thrilling wonders of the anatomical body – the other kind.

You’re going through a mental list of every single thing you could’ve possibly done to be stuck in this situation. But even for you, who’s had to live with the guilt of said doings for many years, it feels a little bit drastic to be punished like this.

Taehyung’s quest for a table was unsuccessful, resulting in them having to occupy the seats right next to yours at the bar.

And so here you were, right next to Jungkook, both of your backs turned against each other’s, as you both tried to enjoy a little night out on the town. Another quest that kept finding itself unsuccessful.

The space is quite loud around you and you can’t really listen to their conversation – only Taehyung’s loud laugh now and then.

So, you think, this is good. This could be worse. You can’t even see him! And like Jungkook says: out of sight, out of mind. Yes. This is perfect.

This was not perfect.

“Guys,” Sky whispers, waving her hands inwards, motioning for you and Lucy to get closer. You do and she says, “I must’ve spoken too loud because… it’s here!” She shrieks and Lucy frowns in confusion at her words. Sky rolls her eyes. “My rose, silly.”

“Elaborate?” Lucy urges.

“Duh. ___’s hot boss! Jungkook,” she whispers his name but you still turn around abruptly, making sure he didn’t catch it. “___, you must play cupid. Pretty please?” Her palms flush together, signalling a prayer and you’re not religious but the act feels blasphemous to you.

“Sky, did you spike your negronis again? He’s my boss. I’m his nanny. There is so much wrong with the simple image of me trying to hook him up with my twenty-two-year-old friend.” You argue, trying to sound objective, so as to look away from the specks of jealousy that are threatening to explode inside your chest.

Sky pouts and Lucy nods before she adds, “Yeah, Sky. I think this rose is thorny.”

“I think it’s the beginning of a very romantic story.” She stands her ground, and quite frankly, you don’t blame her.

“Sky, if actual cupid is somewhere around here on nightly rounds, then he might be able to help you. I can’t, though.”

She jumps in her chair excitedly, clapping her hands once before saying, “You are so right! It has to be fate. Plus, he won’t be able to resist me.” She bats at her hair as she says this, sipping on her negroni, cheeky smile on her face.

And for all you know, she might be right. Sky is the textbook definition of attractive. She has sharp features that make her look almost cat-like, but a soft, warm smile that, yeah, most times she fakes but hey – it’s warm alright. She dresses like she knows she has an all-rounder proportionate body and overall, she oozes confidence. If you consider Jungkook’s track record, as in, the woman he had a child with then yes – he wouldn’t be able to resist someone like Sky.

It shouldn’t, but the realization makes you feel uncomfortable. And the more you think about it the discomfort turns into something worse – sadness.

Sky goes on and on about the principles she sticks to, all gathered from her, and you quote, Bible; Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. You’ve never read said literary masterpiece but the title alone sounds sexist. Both Lucy and you let her talk, though, falling back into the dynamic of the aimless conversation – just like you were before Jungkook and his troop waltzed inside your little Saturday Sanctuary, now cursed forever.

You sigh, shoulders falling to the beat of your gaze as you go back to aimlessly stirring your drink, a significant mental strain on trying to brush aside the feeling of jealousy that takes over you. It’s a jealousy that doesn’t even belong to you, you realize. A feeling that came from an idea so far-fetched inside your brain, mustered from a shock-end reaction after Soori ended up in the hospital over a week ago.

Neither of you had acknowledged it – proving your case further. And it was better that way – you didn’t need the added tension on top of Jungkook’s day-to-day indifference. So, in that moment, you welcomed it.

Right now, it makes your heart feel heavy, though.

Jiwoo senses your despair, walking over to you and placing his hands gently on top of yours, shaking them a little to get your attention. Your gaze snaps up, looking at him as you return his sweet smile.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Just fine,” you tell him but he raises his brow, picking up on your white lie.

“Hm,” he ponders, “I’ll believe you. Have some of this, though. Just in case.” He winks before he places another shot glass in front of you, swiftly sliding it your way.

You catch it. Another poorly judged, ‘fuck it’ before you’re repeating the same motion that put you right into said misery you’re trying to drown.

At first, Jungkook only feels it – your change in demeanour. Then, he notices the change in your tone of voice, really cancelling out his friend’s conversations and listening in on yours. You laugh, clap, shriek, gasp – dramatizing every reaction to whatever it is your friends are saying. He’s not really listening in on your conversation, no. He’s listening to you.

Curiosity finally gets the best of him and he shifts around in his seat, coming to face the bar fully. You’re slightly turned around but he can see you from the corner of his eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, arms swinging around in the air as you tell some story about a road trip from hell where you and Lucy both caught food poisoning and your car broke down halfway through the trip. He chuckles softly to himself. You truly are a storyteller. Even funnier as your words begin to slur slightly as the alcohol swims through your body all the way to your head.

“Hey,” Jiwoo barely whispers, but Jungkook can hear him perfectly from his place next to you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is soft, and he can hear the smile on your face.

“What are you doing after this?”

“I don’t know… what am I doing after this?” You mock seriousness.

“Wanna get some ramen on the way and go over to yours? Watch a movie?”

Jungkook visibly tenses, but you don’t pay him much mind when you jump from your seat. “Beetlejuice!” You exclaim.

Jiwoo laughs, a short-nod of affirmation as he says, “Beetlejuice.”

“Bathroom break,” you announce, to seemingly nobody.

You stumble down from your stool, holding onto the edges when your step falters a bit as your head spins once, then twice as you regain your balance. Once you’re seeing straight again, you make your way to the bathroom – laughing to yourself as you feel the buzz all through you, easing your nerves, making you feel good.

Jungkook bounces his left leg repeatedly in a frenzy. Jimin picks up on it, turning to him.

“Hey, you okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t process his train of thought as he gets up from his stool, turning around and promptly making his way to where he knows the bathrooms are. He shoves past groups of people dancing, kissing and groping. Some doing all at once.

He makes it through the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and stands there, waiting. He realizes just how poorly thought out his action was and how he has no fucking idea of what he’s going to say to you when you walk out of the toilet. He’s about to turn around, or hide inside the men’s bathroom – whichever one he can muster first. But the Universe has other plans because right as he begins to stir out of his awkward standing position, you come out of the bathroom. You’re looking down, measuring your steps, hands at your side fixing your skirt.

You look up and you’re met with the sight of him.

“Oop,” you yelp, hands coming to your mouth in embarrassment as you lose balance slightly.

He grabs your shoulders gently, holding you in place. “You okay?”

“Yeah-,” you stare at him, blinking slowly as you take him in. “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what,” he asks.

“Um… my- me. Uh. I’m drunk. This is embarrassing.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly, letting go of your shoulders. “Don’t be. You should be doing just this on a Saturday night.”

“I don’t- usually. You know?” You tell him and he frowns in confusion, smiling a little at your rambling. “I usually spend my Saturday nights reading The Little Prince and listening to Elton John until Lucy loses it.”

“The Little Prince?” He asks, amused.

“It’s my comfort book.” You defend, a pout forming at your lips. You frown, “where’s Soori?”

“She’s spending the night at my parents’,” you wince slightly at this, eyebrows raising. “Don’t worry, my nanny’s there- I mean. She- took care of me when I was growing up.”

You give him a lazy smile. “So, you had a me?”

“Eh- yeah. Kind of.”

“Was she qualified?” You tease.

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “Funny.”

“I’m,” hiccup, “sorry.”

Jungkook scolds himself mentally over how endeared he is by your teasing and hazy minded playfulness. If he thinks about this situation in a professional light, the same one he carries as CEO, he already breeched protocol. But then again, he’s pretty sure that happened the moment he pulled you to him and you straddled his lap. But we don’t talk about that.

“You’re alright.” He gives you a kind smile, throwing you aback. “Do you- I can take you home, if you want. My driver’s out front.”

You ponder on this for a second too long, sending Jungkook’s brain into a frenzy. The protocol is non-existent at this point. “Are you sure? I- there’s a bus! I usually take the bus. From the ramen place. Best ramen in town. You should try it- anyways. The bus stop is right in front-”

He interrupts your ramble, voice going back to that stern edge. “I wouldn’t want you taking the bus this late at night.” He can see you contemplating, lips in that signature pout. “We can stop by the ramen place- if that’s why you’re so hesitant.”

You smile at him. A big, toothy smile that makes your whole face light up.

“Done deal.”

The scene that unfolds before you as you get back to your designated places in front of the bar is astonishing, to say the least.

The both of you come to a halt as you take in the little social circle both your group of friends have formed as they mingle, down shots and sip on their drinks casually.

When two worlds collide is an ironic way to put it but it couldn’t hold more accuracy.

Yoongi and Taehyung are invested in some recount about Sky’s strolls through Venezia – hard Z. Jiwoo fills in on that conversation here and there as he mixes drinks behind the bar. Their mouths are agape, taking in her wild stories as she over-dramatizes them for the purpose of having their full attention on her.

Opposite that, in their own little bubble, another mingle that borders on bonding forms as Jimin and Lucy sit awfully close to one another. It’s all giggles and coy smiles, little whispers in between stories as they grow visibly smitten with each other.

Jungkook’s voice takes them all out of said bubbles.

“I’m taking ___ home.” The moment the words leave his mouth he regrets them – an assortment of bemused faces gawking back at him. “To- I mean- I’m giving her a ride home.” He clarifies.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit tired,” you turn to Jiwoo, an apologetic smile on your face. “Let’s do Beetlejuice some time next week?” He only nods, returning your smile.

“Alright, Gguk. Get home safely – the two of you. Give Soori a forehead kiss from me.” Taehyung says.

“And me,” adds Yoongi.

Jungkook smiles at them, nodding before turning around. But he’s caught halfway through his action before a high-pitched voice calls out his name.

Sky walks over to him, offering a flirty gaze before she says, “Jungkook! It was so nice meeting you. I hope our paths cross again. I’m sure they will.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Until then,” Jungkook tells her, bowing slightly, shooting a quick smile her way before he walks away.

You are not one to thrive off of other people’s miseries but yes, a wicked grin adorns your face at the sight of hers. Taehyung catches this, raising a brow your way. Your smile drops, quickly facing away from him. Out of sight, out of mind.

You walk over to Lucy instead, smiling at her before you say, “Hey, Lu. You coming with?”

She looks at you, a sheepish smile forming at her lips. “Uh… I think I’ll stay. Text me when you get home, though!”

“Sure. Will do. Let me know when you’re heading back as well.”

She nods and gives you a hug, which you return – letting yourself melt into her.

You can quite literally feel the happiness she radiates.

Jimin looks at you, smiling sweetly.

He’s to blame. You smile back at him.

His little moment of bliss doesn’t last long as he feels Jungkook come to a stand right next to him.

“Minie,” he wraps his hand around his friend, sweetly bringing him closer as he laughs. But Jimin knows his alter motives. “Don’t fuck my nanny’s best friend.”

“Ggukie,” Jimin laughs, over-dramatizing the action, a saccharine ring to his voice when he says, “don’t fuck your nanny.”

You are sitting in the backseat of Jungkook’s Range Rover. He’s by your side, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He bounces his left leg over and over again and as you fixate on it you begin to feel dizzy, head spinning a little.

You have no idea how you get the two of you to the ramen place with the half-assed directions you give his driver but once you’re pulling up, you’re telling him your orders and Jungkook is handing him his credit card over before he exits the car and heads to your personal idea of adult Disneyland – the ramen place.

You think about how this poor man is about to hand the cashier a black, sleek card to pay for greasy under-priced, in your humble opinion, ramen. The thought is so funny to you in your drunken state, you start chuckling.

Jungkook’s eyes snap from his phone to you, frowning in confusion as to what it is you find so amusing. His bewildered expression just makes the whole situation funnier and you’re full on laughing now – head thrown back in your seat, one hand over your mouth and the other over your chest as you try to control it. But your attempts are in vain because your laughter only gets louder, filling the space around you at an alarming rate.

Jungkook stares at you. He’s stuck in a very 50/50 state of mind. 50% dumbfounded and 50% praying to all the gods and angels above your laughter never comes to a stop. And with that, it becomes contagious. He tries to fight it but there’s no use as he feels it bubbling inside his chest and then – he’s laughing with you. Lightly at first but then his cackles reach the same pitch as yours.

The moment holds its little infinity for a while and then your laughter begins to die down – shoulders still shaking slightly as you come down.

You melt into the seat, head turning slightly as you glance at him, his eyes glassy as he begins to come down, too. He does the same, head dropping a little to the side until his eyes meet yours. This side of him makes you feel light – your chest fluttery, on a steady ascend and you never want to come down.

He stills. That soft blink, warm smile making your head spin – now drunk on how ethereal he looks. Not only him, but his whole essence. So pliant, so soft. A soul that finds laughter contagious. You can physically feel your heart contract at this. It hurts, tugging at your every string in the sweetest way possible.

“What was so funny?” He murmurs, that smile never faltering – only getting impossibly softer.

“I don’t remember,” you say, even though you do. You just can’t bring your brain to process any other thought that isn’t him. Him and his big, doe eyes and the way the night reflects on them. Him and his light.

He hums, absentmindedly. The silence that fills the car is dense but you welcome it. You both do as your fingers begin tracing irregular patterns on the leather seats, right between the two of you. They move mindlessly and your eyes close, wishing with all your heart it was his skin under your touch. You can hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing and you just wish he’d come closer – close enough to get lost in yours.

Your mouth voices out your wishes, encompassing them in an ever-so-soft,

“Please.”

And Jungkook can’t think straight.

He hasn’t been able to think straight since your laughter filled the closed space of his car, crawling inside his chest and settling in places he didn’t even know still carried themselves in screaming colour.

His mind had lost all composure the moment you looked into his eyes as if they carried the whole galaxy in them. Since that moment, his heart had taken on the lead.

He moves closer to you, sliding against the leather seats. He does this so swiftly you only notice when your eyes slowly flutter open, butterflies swarming your tummy as your wish grants itself before your eyes.

You give him a dopey smile, pulling yourself closer to him until you’re both a breath away from touching. You wish for that breath, too.

Your fingers dance from the now tight-knit space between you to his legs, slowly moving up his thigh, the tips of your index and middle finger beginning a stroll with no apparent direction. Jungkook can barely feel your touch against the thick fabric of his jeans but the thought alone sends shivers down his spine, shutting his eyes closed for a moment as he tries to gather all the sensations he’s feeling. As he tries to reason with his rational mind and his heart.

All his thoughts come back to you.

His hand hovers over your thigh for a second and, before he can attest to his actions, they close around it – feeling the smooth of your skin, promptly joined by a million goosebumps as your body gives into his touch. He squeezes slightly, unable to control himself. Unable to control the ardent need to have you impossibly closer, to imprint his touch on you until you can feel it for days.

Your hand flies to his cheek, cupping it gently as you let yourself stare into his eyes – hoping they can speak your desire with words that shy away from you the more real the moment becomes. He keens into your touch, face nuzzling into your hand, lips grazing at the soft skin of your palm. He closes his eyes as you run your nails gently down the smooth of his cheek, the sensation making him squeeze your thigh harder, making your whole body shudder as a whimper leaves your mouth. The faint sound has him opening his eyes and they begin a slow dance between your gaze and your lips, back and forth until the feeling at the pit of your stomach grows unbearable. You move an inch closer, pulling his face to yours with the hand that stills on his cheek.

“___,” his voice is but a whisper, “you’re- drunk. We shouldn’t.”

He exhales loudly and as much as you want to give him a detailed recount on how his touch activated all of your senses to the point of sobering you up, you don’t.

“Okay, just… stay here? Please?” you say.

He leans his head forward until your foreheads are touching, nodding slowly as he closes his eyes and lets himself go – falling into your touch and enjoying the way you feel as you melt into his.

Your hands snake all the way to his hair, tangling in his locks – realizing just how much you missed how receptive he is when you touch him there. Your nails scrape down his scalp, softly – an idle touch that does more to Jungkook than he can begin to grasp. His hand comes up to rest at the small of your waist, snaking his arm around it, pushing you closer. You feel restless – a need that doubles as greed at this point invading your senses, begging for him. You pull at his hair slightly and he hisses – so close to your mouth you can feel the vibrations of the sound graze your lips.

“Fuck, ___-,”

The sound of the front door frightens the both of you – jumping abruptly at the sound. It takes Jungkook three seconds too long to register what’s happening but when he does, he removes his hand from around your waist and, in a collected manner, goes back to his seat.

He thanks the driver as he passes him the food, and places it on the floor between the two of you.

You sit there, motionless – trying to absorb the previous moment before it completely drifts from your mind. Like a needle to a soapy bubble. Gone in a second.

You can’t figure out if your heart is restored or bent all over again.

You feel Jungkook shuffle closer to you until he’s flushed to your side. Before you can utter a word, his arm comes up, reaching across your body for the seatbelt before he pulls it down, safely strapping you into the seat. You think he’s about to pull away again but his forehead comes to rest against your temple, your breath hitches in your throat at the mere contact.

“I’m sorry,” he exhales into the soft of your cheek, nose nuzzling against it for a second before his warmth leaves your skin.

You can feel your heartbeat pounce against your every pulse point, erratically threatening to leave its safe space. But despite its restless temper the answer comes to you clearly.

It’s restored.

Your head pounds against your skull as your eyes begin to flutter open – the god-awful hangover you can already feel kicking at your nerves as you adapt to the light that shines through your window. You have a bad habit of not closing your blinds before going to bed and today, it’s a problem.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady the beat of your heart at the recollection of last night’s events. At the mere thought of it – of his face, so painfully close to yours, his eyes taking you in, his touch on your skin – the butterflies settle back into what seems to be their favourite place lately.

It’s hard to put a feeling so ethereal into words. You wonder how it’s possible for something so delicate to hold such complexity yet at the same time for it to feel like the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook is, without a doubt, an enigma. All the blind spots in a puzzle that feels impossible to bind together yet when it fits, the way your bodies found each other’s yesterday, it falls into the big picture seamlessly.

You’re mad at your brain for not letting you fully enjoy the light, soaring feeling of your heart – the way you feel warm all over when you think of his face. The same face your gaze held impossibly close yesterday. Every single mole on his honey skin, the way your mind fell in a trance, an endless game of connect the dots as you held a particular focus for every single one. It’s the closest you’ve felt to adoration and as you pulled him closer, you decided you wanted to do just that to him.

Adore him.

You groan, hands coming to cover your face as you try to collect yourself, falling back into the sensical scheme of things. The reality – your reality.

You need coffee and fresh air – a much needed walk in the park with a, presumably, loved-up roommate and best friend. Who, most likely probably, has one hell of a story to tell.

You get up from your bed, making your way to the closet as you retrieve a pair of biker shorts and a beat-up vintage Rolling Stones shirt you found in a garage sale for a fiver. It is your comfort shirt and immediately, its superstitious effect soothes you.

You make a pit stop in the kitchen, brewing some coffee and fixing it just the way Lucy likes it – warm and sweet, a little drizzle of cinnamon at the top. You smile, remembering the way hers shone last night. You throw a handful of ice on your own cup before you grab them both and head to her bedroom.

“Good morning, lover.” You say.

She’s wide awake, resting on her side, cheek flushed to her hand as she smiles at her phone screen that she holds awfully close to her face.

“Hi,” her answer is brief but her tone of voice is laced with a sweetness you don’t miss.

“One to ten?”

“Ten,” she ponders for a minute, “thousand.”

You gasp, a shriek leaving your lips as her giggles join your excitement.

“What? Oh my- wait. What are you doing in your own bed? Is he- is he somewhere in here?” You begin scanning the room frantically.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Where exactly would I hide a full Jimin in here, ___?”

You visibly melt at the softness her voice takes at the mention of his name.

“I need to know. Everything.” You place the coffees in her nightstand before you’re jumping inside her covers as she makes room for you – both your arms resting in her soft pillows, head cocked in the palm of your hands.

“Wait- you’re not mad?” She wonders, voice a tone nervous.

“Why would I be mad, Lu?”

“Because, you know… he’s Jungkook’s best friend.”

You shake your head softly, smiling at her before you reassure her, “No. I’m not mad. How could I ever be? You look so happy.”

“After the bar, we went to that diner – the one close to the library. We walked all the way there, too. He held my hand and…,” her eyes glisten and your heart flutters a bit. “It felt… right. We sat in a booth and talked. For hours on end. I could hear his voice forever.”

“Oh, Lu…” you lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Tell me more.”

“He kissed me.” She mimics your previous move. “I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve never felt so… wanted. He broke down walls I didn’t even know I had, ___.”

Your hand reaches for hers, intertwining your fingers together.

“All this time I thought I had an idea of… love that was so unrealistic. I didn’t think it could happen, let alone to me. But he’s the closest thing to it. He’s so real.”

You think about your years of friendship with Lucy. The way you’ve witnessed as she’s changed, matured, grown out of beliefs and ideas that once kept her innocent – young. Yet the one thing she didn’t ever let go of is the idea that she was deserving of a love so strong, so striking from the very beginning.

If it’s not a hell yes then it’s a hell no, she would say, after countless disappointments that left her picking up shattered little pieces of heart as she gave them all so transparently, with a vulnerability you admired.

“He’s your hell yes.” You tell her.

She smiles, nodding her head. “I didn’t… tell him that, you know, I’ve never been with someone… like that. But I wanted to. I wanted him. Yet when the moment transitioned and it could’ve gone further than a kiss, he told me he didn’t want it to be like that. He said there was no rush. That we could take our time. That if I let him, he could literally lay me in a bed of roses.” She giggles, a bit shy at voicing out the memory.

You turn to her. “Lucy, I’m not going to have to resort to re-reading Norwegian Wood for a fix of romance. I have my very own starstruck one right next door!”

Your loud laughs fill the room and it settles down the air of uncertainty around you.

“He feels like every romance novel I’ve ever read. And more.”

A shiver runs down your spine, making you shudder. You don’t quite know if the cause is the abnormal chill that breezes through the summer morning or the nerves that brew at the pit of your stomach, traveling all the way up your throat, making you feel a bit sick.

You stand in front of Jungkook’s front door, waiting for the door to open – Mrs. Chae’s soft features offering you a smile, the smell of dark coffee, the glossy morning dew that adorns the green grass. Anything to make this routine you’ve adapted for the past two months feel familiar – normal. To give you the comfort of what becomes the ordinary once you settle into its steady rhythm.

The comfort, however, does not come.

When Mrs. Chae opens the door, her soft features are slightly fallen, as if she was immensely drawn into a restless train of thought. Soori is in her arms, abnormally quiet for her usual cheerful morning state.

You frown, taking her in your arms as her little body leans forward, grabby arms reaching for you.

“Hey, princess. What are you doing here, huh?” You coo, placing a soft peck on top of her forehead.

“Good morning, ___.” Mrs. Chae says, that warm smile back in its place.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chae. Did she have breakfast already?” You ask her, bouncing Soori in your hold a little, emitting a giggle from her. There she is.

“Not yet, no. Mr. Jungkook has asked me to tell you to meet him in his office.”

“Oh. Sure, let me just-”

“Now.” She senses your discomfort as you wince slightly at her words and she softens, “as in, as soon as you got here.”

“Okay. I’ll… just go then.” You say, placing Soori back in her arms before you turn around, heading the way that leads to the long hallway.

You glance back as you hear Soori’s faint whines behind you, fidgeting in Mrs. Chae’s hold as her tiny fists open and close in your direction.

You’re scared.

You don’t know exactly what to expect – a plethora of intrusive thoughts had been overwhelming you all weekend, trying to make out just how Jungkook would navigate about the whole situation.

Before he dropped you off, you had turned to him, waiting for him to say something – anything, to settle the nerves that were already starting to blossom as you became aware of just how far the line between wonder and temptation had been crossed this time.

The look in his eyes had been gentle, understanding even. Letting you know that he, too, was trying to make sense of it. It made you feel hopeful, to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to hold onto your moment for longer, to let you in as you both figured it out. Together. But your heart sank as his gaze dropped, voice back to that frivolous nature you’d reluctantly accustomed to.

‘See you Monday,’ is all he said.

Monday found you in front of the door to his office, hands shaky as you mustered the strength to finally knock on it.

You do – a couple of seconds of hesitation before you decide that it’s inevitable. Whatever happens, it’s all inevitable.

“Come in,” you hear his voice from the inside, a little muffled but already, the sound of it makes your shoulders drop, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Morning,” you say, closing the door before you lean against it, hands still behind you gripping onto the doorknob.

“Good morning.” His eyes remain glued to the stack of paperwork that sits in front of him for what feels like an eternity. He looks up at you, his head leaning to the side a bit – something you’ve noticed he does out of habit when he’s lost in thought.

“Are you going to fire me,” you run your words, an agitated ring to them.

He just stares at you but nothing in his dark irises give way to what exactly he’s about to say next and this makes you all the more nervous. He senses it, the way your chest heaves rapidly, shoulders tensed.

“No.” You look up at him, a mix of shock and relief taking on your expression. “Sit down, please.”

Your steps are somewhat lethargic, the initial nerve not having fully died down and now simply merging into another type of worry. Once you finally settle into your seat, your eyes lock with his.

“Jungkook,” you begin.

“We’ve crossed… a lot of boundaries. I want to apologize for that.”

His words feel like a stab, right at your heart. Sharp, cold, shooting pain through all your nerve endings. It hurts – thinking he sees what you did as something worth apologizing for. A mistake. It hurts and breaks and there’s nothing more than you want to do than ask him to take it back.

“There is nothing to apologize for, I- wanted it. I want-”

“I think we got carried away. We misinterpreted a lot of things. It’s not real, ___. It was all just a side effect of… curiosity.”

You.

He continues, looking away from your eyes. He fears that if he lets himself get lost in them for yet another minute he might break. He might finally lace all the words they hold together and he might just have to coincide with them.

He rather his own not tell you their truth, either.

You remain silent.

“I don’t want Soori to lose you, ___. We- can’t afford to lose you. You’re good for her and that is the most important thing to me. So… this can’t happen again. I hope I’ve made it clear.” He adds, eyes cold as they meet yours once again. You look away, fearing you might give into the impending tears.

“You won’t. Lose me, I mean." It takes you a minute but your eyes land back on his – hurt evident in them but something else Jungkook had yet to become familiar with. A void that unsettles him. “And yes. You’ve made it very clear.”

His eyes on you break you further – second by second. He just stares and it makes you angry. His carelessness makes you angry. His very little courage to try.

But your heart doesn’t let that feeling linger – it doesn’t let you put him in such light. You think of his own heartbreak, the same one that landed you in his door. You truly are a side effect, but not of curiosity, no. You are a side effect of the most painful thing to ever happen to him.

The realization settles upon you – shattering your heart, its fragility taking you aback as all the sense you make of the situation doubles as broken glass, breaking at your skin as you grasp at them.

It isn’t real. It never was. You have been the consequence of a loss of control. His heart walked away and you walked in. It never was real because he’d never see you as more than that.

“Can I go now,” you ask and he simply nods.

You don’t look back when you walk away and you might all of your courage in order to collect yourself.

For Soori.

And even if with half a heart, for him.

Her light is contagious and you’re grateful for it.

As the hours drag along you let yourself be softened by Soori’s laughter, her ever-green wonder, her loud baby babble that makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that head of hers.

She’s so loved. She’s so needed.

She’s the heart-mender and she doesn’t even know.

You rock her to sleep, chuckling a little as you look down at her, only to find her eyes wide open looking up at you – no hint of sleepiness in them.

“Hey, you. Go to sleep, missy. When you wake up, we’re going to eat and read and play.” She smiles at you, two tiny front teeth peeking. “We can have some of those dino nuggets your daddy’s afraid of because they’re non-gm-something.” She giggles at your words, nuzzling closer to your chest, lulling herself to sleep with the faint beat of your heart.

You bring her closer and when she falls, body growing heavier in your arms, you let yourself hold her for a little longer.

You can smell him on her.

Love is fragile but not futile, as opposed to feelings.

You break, letting yourself quietly cry as you sway her from side to side.

The pressure building in his knuckles as they land on the punching-bag is painful but Jungkook can’t risk gloved hands with a speedy Soori on the loose.

He looks down at her, sat in her play mat that is spread on the grass, a diverse selection of all of her favourite toys laid down in front of her. She doesn’t seem to be too interested, though. Tugging the fabric of her shirt up as she pokes her belly button in total awe.

Jungkook smiles at the sight, giggling softly to himself as to not break her out of her most recent discovery.

He’s proud of himself – of the way he’s managed to make their weekends worthwhile. It might sound ridiculous but he puts an exuberant amount of pressure on himself to keep his eleven-month-old entertained. He still hasn’t figured out if it’s hard or a belly-button-poking type of easy. So, he tries many things – some fancy some simple. She seems to enjoy the simpler things in life, though – her favourite being the water and this one pink rubber ducky that’s seen better days.

They’ve done it all this Saturday. Having woken up bright and early, made a mess out of the kitchen in a highly successful attempt at making French toast – another new favourite for Soori – and swimming in the pool, rubber ducky included.

He enjoys her company and he likes to believe she enjoys his.

Jungkook finds comfort in how hands-on he has to be with her new found mobility. She’s quick and sneaky and requires his full attention so she’d been doing an excellent job at keeping Jungkook distracted from the calamity of his own thoughts.

It’d been two weeks since your talk.

He’d done it all. Everything in his book to run away from his feelings. Even more – everything he could think of to ignore how restless he felt.

To the blind eye – nothing seemed to have changed. Morning kitchen meetings, doorway goodbyes, Soori falling into his arms in the same place he’d left her in and then you were gone until it was time to do it all over again the next day.

But, to Jungkook, nothing held your warmth – the light he’d grown used to. The one he didn’t quite realized he looked forward to every morning until it stopped keeping him warm.

You both did a stellar job at hiding it, though. Keeping on civil smiles and brief greetings – only letting yourselves linger on the eye contact for long enough so as to not dissipate the distance that you’d put within yourselves.

He throws a hard punch, not quite realizing the harshness of the action. It startles Soori, eyes coming to look at her dad in total confusion, chin quivering in the wake of a cry.

“No, no, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he picks her up, bringing her close to him. “No more of that, okay? It’s done. It’s bye-bye.” He presses his lips to her temple as she calms down.

He feels stuck in a grey spot. Unknown. It makes him feel uneasy, just so fucking restless. His curiosity never died down and it’s then that it dawns upon him – he never let you in enough to know what the pain of losing you would actually be like. To know enough about you as to miss you – need you.

If the void in his chest is big enough to fit his longing now, he can’t imagine what it’d be like to know you enough to love you.

He reaches for his pocket, retrieving his phone. He unlocks it – pulse racing as he dials.

“Hey, Ggukie. Talk to me.” Taehyung’s voice rings against the speakers.

“I need your help.”

You’re being swarmed by little arms, tucking you in their embrace as they tickle you.

You pretend to squirm and attempt to release yourself from their hold, gasping in surprise as their loud giggles fill the room.

“Okay, okay. Free Miss ___.” You say but it is a lost cause as a troop of very determined kids try to seek revenge for the tickle attack they’d ensued from you a couple of minutes prior.

Dae is the first one to break free – his voice loud and excited as he says, “Uncle Jungoo!”

You freeze. Looking to your side to directly meet his eyes. He wears Soori in a baby carrier, a pretty yin and yang design adorning the front. He gives you a small smile. You don’t quite return it but you don’t divert your gaze from his. You smile at Soori, though, who’s jumping in his hold at the sight of you.

You walk closer to them, smiling at Taehyung as Dae jumps into his arms, showing him the drawing he’d painted during his free time.

“This is amazing, bud. You’re such an artiste. Mommy and daddy are going to have to start displaying your work in the gallery, huh?” He says, earning himself a big, crooked grin from Dae who nods enthusiastically. “Hey, ___.”

“Hey, he did so well today.” You say, smiling at Dae.

Soori shrieks, in need of your attention. You turn to her, smiling wide before you come to play with her little hands that stick from either side of the carrier.

“Hey, baby girl. What a nice surprise,” you coo, coming to plant soft kisses on her plump cheeks.

“Hey…” Jungkook says, voice low.

“Hey.”

“Can we- um… can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Taehyung grabs Soori from the carrier and helps Jungkook strap himself free, shooting you a warm smile before you’re both turning around, heading for a quieter space in the library, walking through the high shelves stacked with books.

“How are you,” he starts. He sounds nervous and it unsettles you.

“I’m fine. What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry.” He says, your cold stare has his mind running around in circles. All the courage he’d mustered to come here fading away.

“For what exactly? I think you’ve apologized for your so-called mistakes already. No need to do that again.”

“I don’t think we got nearly close to making a mistake.”

You scoff. “Did we not? it seemed that’s all you saw it as back then, though.”

“Because it might be, ___.” He defends, voice growing exasperated.

“What do you know?” You whisper, tone harsh.

“I know enough. About mistakes and where they land you. How they feel like once you’re left cleaning up the mess they make.”

“Well, it’s good we didn’t fully commit to said mistake now, isn’t it?” Your words are venomous and they take you by surprise – but above all, they’re laced with pain. So much pain.

“Maybe it’s good. Maybe it’s bad.”

“I can’t with the back and forth anymore, Jungkook. What did you come here to tell me?”

“I can’t live with not knowing.” He starts, “I want to know. The mistake has been made. It was made the moment I let myself look at you, really see you. And it was made the moment I let you see me.”

You tried to suppress them but a fresh set of tears pool in your eyes – making your eyes shiny. It tugs at Jungkook’s heart and he wants nothing more than to hold you.

You surrender, letting yourself weaken before him. “Please – stop calling it a mistake. That’s so unfair, Jungkook.”

“You’re not understanding me, ___. Mistakes – fuck. They rule this world. It’s the one constant in this life. You’re bound to make them. What I’m saying is that… they can turn out to be the best- the best thing to ever happen to you.”

He thinks of Soori.

Of the day he met Ira.

He thinks of how big of a mistake he thought he was making when he hired you.

“Why are you so afraid of making them, then?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “That can’t be further from the truth.”

“So, it’s just me then. I’m the one mistake you’re not willing to make.”

“You’re the mistake that terrifies me the most. The very one that tests all of my rationality.”

You look at him. Holding his gaze, eyes not faltering once. His chest flutters – the way it hadn’t done in a while because you haven’t looked at him like this since that night in the backseat of his car.

It takes you a moment but you break your silence, a soft whisper – one last attempt.

“Then let go. Free the rationality from your actions and… treat me the way you would if you only listened to your heart.”

Your gaze falls to the floor, fearing having to look at him as your heart breaks all over again.

You don’t see him take a step towards you. You only feel his index finger, coming to rest under your chin before he tilts it upwards – slowly. Letting himself look for your gaze. When he finds it you’re met with starry eyes. The galaxies, his light.

You think he’s about to pull away when his hand travels to the back of your neck, pulling you closer in one swift, determined movement. Your mouth barely lets out the gasp that forms in your throat before he’s crashing his lips into yours. Arms snaking around your waist, flushing his chest to yours – two heartbeats finally blending together. Mending together.

You fall into him, knees weakened, a light feel to your bones as your arms entangle around his neck, leaning your head to the side as you melt into his lips, parting your mouth to welcome his tongue, falling into the dance of his kiss.

It’s your hands on the soft, warm skin in the back of his neck.

And the feel of his pink bottom lip tucked in between yours.

It’s his body leaning forwards as yours falls backwards, his big hands enclosing around your waist, holding you to him.

Every feeling intensifies and shoots straight to your heart – settling in your chest, your heartbeat thundering against it until you can feel it in your throat, merging with all the words that you’ve reserved just for him and this moment since the minute your soul subconsciously leaped onto his – sealing a pact unbeknownst to you at the time.

It’s your heart, on his lips.

That’s what the world tastes like.

YEP. i literally went “now kiss.” AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT! i feel like all the words i’ve put into this story have amounted to this moment right here and i cant wait to keep navigating their relationship. it's real guys. it's happening. i hope you are happy too! also, team JUCY y’all won. honestly from the beginning of chapter two i was like YOONGI. YOONGI’S HER BOY. but tbh i like to make y’all happy and ALSO jiminie got me with his dumb jokes on the last one too lol. two hopeless romantics. i want what they have. i really hope u enjoyed this one and that your hearts are well. i can’t explain how much i appreciate the love and i am sending it right back. do let me know what u thought – love talking to u guys. xxxxxx

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader

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koorosie

8 months ago

Crash Course in Love • 1

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!female reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, Namjoon's a snack, smoking, brief mentions of drugs, OC and JK are petty af, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.2k

a/n: Part 1 is finally here 🎉 This fic is going to be my comfort story. It's relaxed for me but also quite new in the way I'm telling it and the length. I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I do writing it 💕

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 02

You’ve never been much of a risk taker. That’s just not who you are. You've always believed in playing it safe, thinking it’s better to be cautious than to end up regretting a choice. But living that way has meant you’ve missed out on the grand adventures that others your age fondly reminisce about. In fact, this cautious attitude is exactly what ended your last relationship.

Jungkook, your ex, was the definition of a thrill-seeker, the kind of adventurer you read about in stories. He thrived on excitement, and in the beginning, he managed to pull you into his world, convincing you to join him on his smaller adventures. You’d go camping with him or ride along on his motorcycle. It wasn’t much, but for you, it felt like a lot. You were doing things you’d never willingly do on your own. For him, though, it wasn’t enough. And you knew that. So, rather than holding him back any more than you already had with your shy, introverted, no-risks-please kind of persona, you ended things.

Did you regret it? Both yes and no. Yes, because letting go of the love of your life hurt more than anything. And no, because you knew it meant Jungkook could finally live the way he always wanted, without restraint. Watching him happy, embracing life to its fullest, was what you wanted for him. But when he decided to travel the world right after the breakup—the thing you two had dreamed of doing together—it stung deeply.

Jungkook had always been the rational one, even if he was emotional at times. He understood why you made the decision you did, and though it hurt him as much as it did you, there was nothing more to say. When your words were final, that was it.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t stop yourself from checking in on him, stalking his social media to see him living his best life. Each post only made you feel worse, insecure about the choices you’d made. So, in a moment of frustration, you decided to turn things around. You would live on the edge, too. You’d make "risky" your new middle name.

You started small. Baby steps. You poured your glass of water right up to the brim, nearly overflowing, and then picked it up to drink, knowing full well there was a 99% chance you’d spill it. But you didn’t care. You lived dangerously now, and besides, hydration is key.

Next, you let your phone battery drop to 1%, watching the screen dim, your palms sweaty with the urge to just plug it in. But you resisted, holding out until it died completely. Of course, you rushed to charge it afterward, but you’d never admit that part.

Things escalated. You started crossing the street when the walk sign only had five seconds left, sprinting to the other side like a madwoman, just barely making it before the light changed.

But what really pushed you over the edge was seeing Jungkook’s latest post: him, laughing and carefree, with an unfamiliar woman by his side.

That’s when you signed up for skydiving, bungee jumping, and even got your motorcycle license. It was fun—really fun. But doing it all alone felt hollow. Without someone to share those experiences with, the thrill didn’t last long.

As winter approached, you found yourself at your cousin Yoongi’s apartment, practically begging him to join you on your latest venture—a two-week stay at a ski hostel to learn snowboarding.

“I’m not doing shit,” he said flatly, not even looking up from the couch.

“Pretty, pretty please, Yoongs.” You threw your best puppy-dog eyes at him, hoping for a miracle. Kneeling on his carpet, which was nowhere near plush enough to make this comfortable, you added, “I’ll do almost anything you want if you come with me. Pleeeeeease.”

“Everything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Almost everything,” you clarified.

“Nah, I’m not going. Leave me alone.”

At that, you got up and threw yourself onto the couch beside him, clinging to his arm like a child. You put your face right up next to his, pouting dramatically. “Pwease, Yoongi oppa?”

“Ew, don’t call me that,” he said, surly grimacing in disgust.

“Okay, but only if you come with me! You won’t have to spend a cent. I’ve already paid for everything. Please, please, please.”

Yoongi sighed, and you could see him starting to waver, shooting you the occasional side-eye. “You’ll cover everything?”

“Everything,” you repeated, your eyes sparkling as you sensed victory.

“Fine.”

“Yesssss! I love you!” You kissed his cheek loudly, and he shoved you away with exaggerated disgust, though you knew he secretly enjoyed the affection. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 4 a.m. Pack your bags!”

“4 a.m.?” he groaned.

“Yup! See you then! Bye!”

“I never agreed to go that early! Hey, no! Wait—”

But you were already halfway out the door, knowing that if you stuck around to hear any more complaints, he’d change his mind in an instant.

Day 0

"I'm sure it's here... somewhere," you mumble desperately, trying to navigate your small, old car through the frosty streets of this tiny town. It's not that you're a bad driver, but Tony—your car, named after Iron Man—is getting on in years. With no power steering, driving these treacherous roads is far from enjoyable. Especially with a grumpy, moody Yoongi sitting beside you, not letting you think for a minute.

"I doubt that. You've got us stranded somewhere civilisation hasn't even reached."

"Oh, come on, I know it's here. And it's not as desolate as you're making it out to be! We saw another car, like, 20 minutes ago."

But Yoongi's right. You're no longer sure if you're heading in the right direction. Your phone died hours ago, leaving you without navigation, and there's been no sign of life for miles. You're hoping for a miracle—or at least that your memory of the route isn’t completely off—because the petrol’s running low. You've turned off the heater in the hopes of making it to the hostel without having to walk, but that means you’re both freezing, and Yoongi’s seconds away from murdering you. Not that there’s much left of your blood to spill, as the cold has probably frozen it solid by now.

"I regret agreeing to this, you know?"

"You've told me that already. Like, four times in the last... what? Five minutes?" Your teeth chatter uncontrollably, and you can’t help but silently agree with Yoongi, calling yourself all sorts of names for coming up with yet another idea that’s entirely out of character for you.

"And I'll keep saying it until we arrive. If we ever do." Yoongi’s breath fogs up as he speaks, and when Tony stutters—a sign that it’s running out of petrol or sheer willpower—you feel like you’re about to cry.

The snow hasn’t let up, towering in piles along the narrow street that seems to climb uphill endlessly. At this point, you’re not only terrified of being stranded but of Tony giving out and sliding all the way back down. All you can do is pray. Pray that this journey turns out better than it started, because, frankly, there’s not much that could make it worse.

"Wait, can you see that building?" You lean forward, nearly pressing your nose against the steering wheel, squinting to get a better look at the dark, blurred shape in the distance. Your windscreen wipers are losing their battle against the snow and frost, getting stuck midway, making visibility even worse. "Can you read the sign?"

Yoongi grumbles something inaudible as you both roll down your windows simultaneously, peering outside—not because it isn’t cold enough already, but because there’s no way to keep driving with a snow-covered windscreen. The freezing air and snow immediately assault your face, biting at your cheeks, nose, and everything else. Your nose starts running mercilessly, your eyes sting with tears that freeze on your lashes, making it nearly impossible to keep them open.

Yoongi’s not faring much better. His short hair, while practical, leaves his ears exposed to the cold, turning them bright red in an instant. Yet somehow, he’s still able to swear profusely—though you’re not sure if it’s aimed at you or the weather.

"It says ‘dinosaur,’" he spits out into the biting air.

"Yes! It’s ‘Dionysos!’ We’re here! I told you we weren’t lost." You regret smiling immediately, as the cold stabs at your teeth, making you fear they’ll shatter into a million pieces.

"Just park the fucking car."

As you manage to crest the hill, a small but beautiful town comes into view, beginning with the quaint little hostel you booked. And after you parked Tony right in front or it, you somehow manage to force the car windows back up, the frozen mechanisms protesting all the way with deafening screams. But you don’t care. With aching, frost-bitten limbs, you leap out of the car, grab your bags from the boot, and bolt inside the hostel, Yoongi practically bulldozing past you to get in.

Your arrival is marked by a tiny bell hanging over the entrance. While it’s not Christmas yet, the decorations for the advent season are in full swing. But most importantly, it’s warm. So wonderfully warm that you can’t help but take a deep breath, letting the heat thaw you from the inside out, as you discreetly wipe your nose on your sleeve.

"Oh, hey!" A man behind the reception desk greets you immediately. His glasses sit low on his nose, and a ridiculous Christmas jumper stretches across his tall frame.

"Hi! I’ve booked a room for two weeks. It’s under the name..."

Before you can finish, the man interrupts, saying your name. You glance warily at Yoongi, who, as expected, doesn’t care in the slightest. He’s already parked himself by the fireplace, looking like a cat forced to endure the cold for far too long.

"You’re our only guest this season." The man laughs uncomfortably, clearly sensing your suspicion.

"Oh." That’s all you manage, throwing another helpless glance at Yoongi, who remains completely uninterested.

"Yeah, I can’t compete with all the amenities that new hotel chain offers," he adds with a shrug.

"Oh! That’s a shame." You step forward, genuinely sorry to hear about the plight of small businesses, struggling to survive against the corporate giants.

"It is what it is. But I’m glad to have you here." He flashes you a dimpled smile, his perfectly aligned teeth momentarily dazzling you. "My name’s Namjoon, by the way. I’ll be your landlord, caretaker, cook, and whatever else you need during your stay. Just let me know, and I’ll make it happen."

You shake his hand, startled by how cold your fingers still are. "Thank you so much, Namjoon! You already know my name, but this grump glued to your fireplace is Yoongi."

"Honeymoon?" Namjoon asks, with a teasing grin.

"Ew, no." Yoongi’s voice drips with disgust, and he doesn’t even flinch under your glare.

"What he means is, no, we’re cousins, spending the holidays together."

"Forced to spend—"

"Willingly."

"Threatened to—"

"Shut up, you agreed! Don’t make me look like an idiot."

"You nearly killed us."

"Oh, I did not! Stop lying."

Namjoon clears his throat, cutting off your bickering. You both turn to him sheepishly, like children being scolded by a parent. Your cheeks are burning, not just from the warmth but from the embarrassment of your argument.

"I’ll give you a tour of the place, then?" Namjoon offers, smiling warmly.

"Yes, please," you reply, eager to move past the awkwardness as soon as possible.

Yoongi struggles to tear himself away from the fireplace, but eventually, both of you follow Namjoon, who remains all smiles despite your rather unorthodox arrival.

“So, this is the main area. You can relax by the fireplace whenever you like—it’s lit all the time,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi, who still seems transfixed by the flames. “To the left are the rooms. There are only three, and yours is at the far end. I took the liberty of choosing the honeymoon suite because, well… you know what I thought. But honestly, it’s the best room here, so it’s no big deal.”

You swallow the urge to ask if it’s possible to have two separate rooms, but you’re running low on cash. Since you’ve become Yoongi’s unofficial sponsor for this trip, two rooms are out of the question. You just hope Yoongi has somehow outgrown his relentless snoring from childhood because, God forbid, you’ll be at your wit’s end if he ruins your sleep for two whole weeks.

“And to the right is my private room and the dining area. Any allergies I should know about?” Namjoon asks.

“No,” you and Yoongi reply in unison, sounding like textbook tourists. Not that you aren’t, but you’d rather it wasn’t so obvious.

“That’s good to hear. These days, everyone seems to have some kind of allergy or gut problem. I really don’t want to have to drive you to the hospital; it’s quite a distance from here…”

Namjoon stops mid-sentence, realising he’s rambling. You’re still standing there, bags in hand, coats on, now sweating from the warmth. You can only hope your body doesn’t rebel from the extreme change in temperature.

“This way, please,” Namjoon says, leading you towards your room. He swings the door open ceremoniously with an old-fashioned key in hand, and you and Yoongi follow, your heavy boots and coats disrupting the otherwise serene, festive atmosphere.

“Wow,” Yoongi murmurs, and it’s truly a sight that will stay with you forever.

It isn’t the room itself that takes your breath away, but the view. The wall facing the mountains is made entirely of glass, offering an uninterrupted view of the snow-covered slopes from peak to base. The storm has lessened without you noticing, revealing thick, heavy snowflakes gently falling, while the sun breaks through the grey clouds that shadowed your entire journey.

You watch as skiers and snowboarders carve their way down the mountainside, zigzagging effortlessly through the untouched snow. At the foot of the mountain, families are building snowmen and riding sleighs, laughter and joy visible even from this distance. It’s in moments like these, during those once-in-a-lifetime experiences, that your thoughts drift back to Jungkook. You find yourself wishing that things had turned out differently, that he could be here to share this with you.

You shouldn’t feel sad about it. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him, especially when he’s clearly moved on. Your relationship feels as distant and forgotten as a book written centuries ago—once beautiful, overflowing with fairytales too good to be true, but now irrelevant, no longer suited to withstand the test of time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Namjoon’s voice pulls you back to the present, and for that, you’re grateful. Yoongi wouldn’t understand your feelings, and even if he did, he wouldn’t indulge your nostalgia over a past relationship—especially because it was your first and last.

“It is. Thank you for giving us this room, Namjoon. It’s more than I ever expected.”

Yoongi tosses his bag onto the floor by the bed, shrugs off his coat and shoes, and immediately flops onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the view.

“No worries, really. There’s a phone and a card with my number on it by the nightstand. If you need anything, come to reception. If I’m not there, knock on my door—I’m happy to help.”

Namjoon’s kindness and humility stir something in you. He’s incredibly good-looking, tall, and there’s something about his calm and friendly manner that makes you feel at ease. As he smiles at you, his dimples showing, you wonder if perhaps you might let yourself indulge in him a little—let him be the warmth you’ve been missing.

But for now, you’ll settle in. Let the next two weeks pass without forcing anything. You want to be swept up in whatever comes your way.

“I’m really happy I booked with you, Namjoon. You’ve been so kind, and this room is perfect. Thank you again.”

“Anytime.”

Your eyes linger on his for a moment longer than you’d admit was necessary, and you seize the opportunity to ask him a few more questions just to keep looking at him.

“So, I booked a snowboarding course through you. That starts tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, the instructor’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too but won’t arrive until right before your lesson. You booked the classes for a full week, correct?”

“Yeah, I thought a week would be enough, and we’ll practice on our own after that.”

“That should work well. He’s great at what he does and an excellent teacher. But if you need more help, he’ll still be around for the rest of your stay.”

“That’s good.” You’re only half-listening. Namjoon’s dimples and kind eyes are distracting you too much to focus on his words.

“Oh, before I forget—anything in town worth seeing? I’d love to stroll around today since we’ve got no schedule.”

“I’m not leaving this room,” Yoongi mutters, his voice dripping with boredom, but neither you nor Namjoon pay him any attention.

“Hm, there’s not a lot, but you should visit ‘Jimin’s Pastries.’ He supplies my bread, and his pastries and coffee are to die for.”

“That sounds perfect. I think I’ll check it out straight away—I’m starving,” you say with a bashful laugh. “You coming?” You ask Yoongi coldly, knowing the answer.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. So, how do I get there?” Immediately you turn back to Namjoon.

“I could show you?”

There’s a slight hesitance in Namjoon’s offer, but it only makes him more endearing. You smile genuinely, feeling a little more charmed than you’d like to admit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great, let’s go then.” His easy-going nature doesn’t falter, even when Yoongi calls after you, “Bring me back some food!”

There’s no need to answer; the door to the room has already closed behind you, leaving Yoongi behind as well.

“I’ll just need to fetch my coat real quick.”

You follow Namjoon to the reception, your eyes drawn to the way his hips move with each step, the subtle flexing right in front of you. It’s not as if you objectify every attractive man you meet, but Namjoon clearly takes care of himself, and there’s nothing you can really do. After all, you’re no saint, and Namjoon is definitely one of those reasons you’ll never take a vow of celibacy.

He doesn’t take long to return, emerging from his room with a rather thin coat hugging his body, making you feel a little ridiculous in your thick down jacket. But there’s no way you’re changing now.

Ever the gentleman, Namjoon holds the hostel door open for you with a small smile, and you thank him silently as the bell above the door chimes again softly. You don’t let your thoughts drift too far—don’t let them wander back to that time when Jungkook told you he always thought he’d meet his soulmate when he heard a bell the first time he saw them.

Because you’re sure that’s just folklore, just a whimsical story, something for entertainment. And even though Namjoon seems like someone nice you could spend time with, the fanciful idea that he might be your soulmate because of a little bell is absurd.

Outside, the cold hasn’t let up one bit, though the storm and heavy snowflakes have finally ceased. But this time, you welcome the chill, grateful for the contrast to the stifling heat of the hostel and the layers you’re bundled in.

You walk side by side, heading deeper into the small town, and now that the air is clearer, you notice fairy lights strung across the street, bare trees decorated with quaint Christmas ornaments, and every house and shop adorned for the season.

“So, how long have you been running the hostel?” you ask, unwilling and not comfortable nor confident enough to let the silence stretch for too long, opting for small talk that feels so much more safer.

“It’s been a few years now. I took over when my father couldn’t run it anymore.”

“That’s a responsible thing to do. I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but Namjoon’s hair isn’t black at all. Now, as the sunlight reflects off his soft-looking strands, you realise it’s a dark brown, making him look much younger.

“He is.” Namjoon smiles bashfully, glancing down briefly as though to hide a slight blush. “I just hope I can keep things going as well as he did.”

“I’m sure you will. The place is lovely.”

“Thanks. But what’s really lovely is Jimin’s, which is right here.”

Namjoon gestures towards a small shop you hadn’t noticed before, stopping just a short walk from the hostel. You realise now that everything in this tiny town is within easy reach, which you find very convenient.

And he’s right, ‘Jimin’s Pastries’ looks jut as charming as the hostel. The building is old but beautifully restored, its large windows inviting you in without detracting from its historic charm, as though it’s withstood the test of time. The large windows must be new, but you suspect the struts are original, as is the interior you can spot from outside, and it makes you marvel at it instantly.

Namjoon leads the way inside, once again opening the door for you to step through first. Again, a soft chime rings above the door, and the first thing you see is a man behind the counter, slightly shorter than Namjoon, with a smile as radiant as the sun itself, his eyes crinkling into crescents, making him look oh-so-youthful and impossibly welcoming.

“Hey, hyung! Who’s this you’ve brought with you?” the man asks brightly, his voice as musical as a singer’s.

“This is ___, she’s my guest for the next two weeks. ___, this is Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Please, take a seat, make yourself at home! Namjoon, the usual?”

“Yeah, and some of your magic pastries. We’re starving, right?” Namjoon offers you a seat after taking your heavy coat, which you accept with a shy smile, feeling unaccustomed to such attentiveness.

“Yes, that sounds great. Thank you.”

“And what would you like to drink, ___?”

You squint up at the menu hanging above the counter while Namjoon takes his seat across from you after putting your coats on a rack near the entrance, but Jimin doesn’t give you much time to decide.

“Oh wait, I’ll bring you my special.”

With that, he sets to work, moving quickly around like a busy bee, and you take the opportunity to absorb and soak in the cosy, homey atmosphere.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Namjoon whispers over the sound of coffee beans being ground, leaning in slightly, his elbows resting on the table.

“It is. Thank you for showing me this place. I can’t wait to try everything—it all looks so delicious.”

The display of cakes and sweets is overwhelming, filled to the brim. The macarons, in particular, seem to call out to you, their bright colours practically begging to be tasted, looking almost too perfect to be real, knowing that you have to try them.

“I hope you like it as much as I do, or else I won’t know what to serve you for breakfast.”

You can’t help but giggle with Namjoon, his demeanour so warm and charming it’s impossible not to feel at ease.

“Here you go!” Jimin sings as he walks over with a tray nearly overflowing with pastries, balancing so many that even if you hadn’t eaten in days, you’re sure that there would still be leftovers. But you you’re not about to complain, secretly pleased you’ll get to taste almost everything on offer.

“The usual for Mister NJ, and here’s yours, beautiful,” Jimin winks cheekily, handing you a cup of coffee off the tray. You try to suppress the shy blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s really been a while since anyone’s flirted with you like this, and even if it’s maybe just playful, it’s not unwelcome, but simply unexpected.

“Thank you.”

You’re a bit surprised when Jimin pulls up a chair to sit between you and Namjoon, but thinking about it, it makes sense. There are no other customers at the moment, shop being completely empty except for you three, and it’s clear he’s close friends with Namjoon. Besides, you don’t mind; in fact, it’s comforting to be making these friendly connections, especially if you’re going to be here for two whole weeks. Maybe if these two weeks go well, you could see yourself coming back here one day.

Sensing the expectant looks from both men, their eyes flicking between your face and the cup of coffee in your hands, you finally take a sip—and are immediately thrown back to memories of Jungkook. The momentary peace you’d found is shattered as the familiar taste hits you. The coffee is good, wonderful even, just as perfect as you expected from Jimin’s first impression, but it tastes exactly like how Jungkook used to make it for you, though serving it in a normal cup seems rather…interesting now.

But Once, you loved the aftertaste of sweet iced Americano, loved the aftertaste after Jungkook had put his lips on yours. But now you’re alone. Now, you’re without him, and there’s nothing you can do but swallow it down, hoping your expression doesn’t give you away—hoping they don’t see how broken you really are and that you’re lying. Lying that you’re not stuck in an all time low for years now, lying that you’re not trying to fix your pride since.

“Wow, it tastes amazing!”

But both men jut blink at you now, and it’s only then that you realise your hands are trembling slightly, and that the smile you’ve tried so hard to put on doesn’t feel as genuine as you’d hoped.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin’s uneasy in an instant, his brow creasing. “Don’t you like it? Would you prefer something else?”

They both look rather too concerned for their own goods now. Jimin, too, tries to take the cup from your hands, but you hold it closer to you. It’s kind of sweet how strangers seem so empathetic towards you, and it somehow soothes the ache in your chest, even if it’s only a little, but not quite enough to make you forget.

“No! It’s perfect. I swear. It’s just that it reminds me of someone who’s no longer in my life.”

“Oh, my condolences.” Namjoon stretches out his hand, resting it gently on your lower arm with sad eyes.

“No! Oh gosh, no, it’s my ex. He’s alive, we just broke up.”

While Namjoon’s face falls into an embarrassed, crooked smile, taking his hand away, Jimin’s lights up like the fairy lights outside in the dawn. He wastes no time sliding closer to you, his wooden chair squeaking lightly on the tiled floor.

“Oh, tell me about it. Was it recent?”

You want to say yes, because even though it’s been a while since the split, it still feels like it was just hours ago. But at the same time, the time spent apart from Jungkook feels like an eternity, too unbearable to survive, really.

“Uhm, no, it’s been years, actually.”

And that shifts the whole room into chaos. Jimin doesn’t miss a beat before suggesting, “You just need to get properly dicked down, one good time.”

Namjoon looks even more embarrassed, trying in vain to get Jimin to shut up, while you sit there watching them argue about whether or not Jimin’s suggestion is the right way to help you forget your ‘scruffy ex’—his words, not yours or Namjoon’s.

“Actually, I’m not really interested in finding someone new at the moment.”

“See! I told you! Just let her be!” Namjoon leans back in his chair with a proud, triumphant smile on his face, crossing his arms as if he’s known you for years, which, obviously, he doesn’t. His glasses slide down his nose, making him look less convincing than he should.

“Oh, shut up, she just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe we could set her up with C. I think they’d look cute together.”

“I don’t know, man, you’re kind of right, but he’s not looking for anyone either.”

“That’s perfect! Wait, tell me something about yourself, I need to check if you’d vibe with him.” Jimin again leans in close, his elbows resting on the table between you, hands framing his chiseled jawline as he looks at you with sparkling, excited eyes.

You’re not sure what’s just happened, or who this ‘C’ is. And especially, you’re unsure how to answer the request to ‘tell them something about yourself’. Do you tell them about the introverted self you once were or maybe still are deep down? Your default so to say? Or do you describe the ‘new’, in your opinion uncomfortable self you’re desperately trying to become? At this point, you’re not even sure who you are, and the realisation exhausts you more than the drive here did.

“I…hm…I’m more the type of person who’s calm and doesn’t like a lot of adventures or risky things. So, I don’t think there’s really anyone out there who could handle that.” Yeah, great way to spark someone’s interest—talking down on yourself should definitely be added to your list of traits.

“Oh, that’s perfect. C’s been out of his mind for years. He definitely needs someone to balance him out. The dude’s mental.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, eyes flickering between Namjoon and Jimin. If he’s mental, why would Jimin want you to get involved with him? You’ve got enough of your own problems; babysitting a potential partner is the last thing you want to do.

“Oh no, he’s not mental mental, just a bit too reckless. He’s searching for something no one really understands. I reckon he’s just looking for love, or to be loved, but he’s obviously not finding it.”

“Oh... I see…” You nod vaguely, trying to piece together the information being thrown at you without getting whiplash. “But, uh, who is C, exactly?”

“He’s your snowboard instructor, actually,” Namjoon chimes in. From the look on his face, he’s completely on board with Jimin’s idea as well.

“And his name is C?”

“We call him that. It’s short for BSC, which is short for Babystarcandy.” Jimin beams at you, as if this explanation makes perfect sense.

“I reckon that’s not his actual name?” You deadpan.

“Gosh, no! That would be ridiculous.” Jimin waves his hands exaggeratedly while Namjoon chuckles. “His actual name is—”

The loud ringtone of Namjoon’s phone makes all three of you jump, Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” blasting from his coat.

“Sorry, I’ll just get that.” Namjoon stumbles off his chair, tripping over his own feet. He grabs his coat at the last moment, pulling it to the floor with him as the hook breaks under the weight.

“Not again,” Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he sinks further into his chair. “I swear to God, one day—”

“Why am I calling myself?” Namjoon wonders aloud before quickly answering, “Hello?”

You can’t hear the other side of the conversation from across the room, but Namjoon doesn’t seem confused for long. He responds joyfully, “Of course. We’re heading back now... sure... bye.”

“You’re going to pay for that repair,” Jimin mutters as soon as Namjoon hangs up and gets to his feet, tucking his phone into his trousers and pulling on his coat.

“Of course, I always do. That was Yoongi, by the way. He’s hungry and wants us to bring him food. Sooo, could you pack up all the pastries?”

“Yes, of course!” Jimin jumps up immediately, gathering everything together while you watch longingly as he takes the macarons too. But you’re not too sad—you’ll just gobble them as soon as you’re back in your room.

You stand, finishing your coffee in one go, knowing that even though you can taste the caffeine from how strong it is, it won’t do much once your stomach’s full. You’re simply too knackered after today to stay awake longer than necessary.

“Yoongi called you from your hostel phone?”

“Yeah, he didn’t know another way.”

“I can’t with him; he’s so shameless sometimes.” Namjoon helps you into your coat, a gesture you’d like to get used to again—the simple act is just too sweet not to fall in love with.

“Ah, I don’t mind. I like people like him; they’re always honest.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Here come the treats!” Jimin sings as he swings open the door to the back room. The pastries are now securely packed in a paper bag, which he hands to you. “Thanks for coming by, and make sure to come tomorrow too. We’re not done talking, especially after you meet C in person!”

You can’t help but laugh with them both. It’s refreshing to feel joy and fun around you without having to put yourself at risk with some nonsense activity. But if you’re honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have met them if it weren’t for that very activity.

“Thanks, Jimin. I appreciate it. And we’ll see if I’m still alive after tomorrow.”

“You will be—C will take good care of you,” Jimin winks again, and with that, the door chime sounds as Namjoon opens it for you. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” you and Namjoon say in unison, stepping into the cold night as the wind bites at your face again. The fairy lights now illuminate the whole street, ornaments reflecting their red and gold hues, looking like something straight out of a film. Children are still up, playing in the snow and running around, while couples stroll along the pavement.

It’s a scene you wish you could see every day, and as you make your way back to the hostel with Namjoon by your side, you can’t help but glance up at him now and then as he talks about the small details of the town’s history, C and Jungkook momentarily forgotten.

Day 1

You regret bringing Yoongi with you. So much so, you want to cry and never stop.

It’s not like he’s bad company—not all the time, anyway—but sharing a room with him puts everything into perspective. His snoring hasn’t lessened one bit since childhood; in fact, you’re pretty sure it’s gotten worse. There’s no way you’ll get an ounce of rest if you keep sleeping in the same room, so you decide to ask Namjoon at breakfast if there’s any chance you can switch to the other spare room.

Lying awake all night until Yoongi got up at ass o’clock, leaving the room with his laptop and other gear, had you contemplating every life decision you’ve ever made, including the ones yet to come. Isn’t it ridiculous what you’ve got yourself into again? Sure, you’re kind of sporty, but when it comes to risky sports like snowboarding, you’d much rather watch others do it than try it yourself but here you are.

You’re sure if Jungkook had seen the way you’ve been living these past few years, he’d laugh. Not that he’d ridicule you—he’s not that type—but you’re certain the clown you’ve become would disgust him as much as it disgusts you.

You’re not sure if it’s healthy to still be so hung up on your ex, or if it’s just normal when you’ve lost the love of your life. Normal in the sense that every thought circles back to him, like you’ve taken the fall for some drug called Jeon Jungkook.

You’ll probably have to search the internet for a rehab clinic that specialises in self-inflicted heartbreak because after this adventure, there’s no way you’re doing anything like this again. Enough is enough. Especially when there’s possibly, just maybe, a potential partner—someone cozy and inviting, like Namjoon—who might actually like you for who you really are.

It’s still early, but you need to get up and grab some breakfast, knowing today’s course will be physically draining if you attempt it on an empty stomach. You’re certain that dragging Yoongi out will take extra time you don’t have to spare. The thought of making a bad first impression on C terrifies you, not only because he’s a stranger, but because, as Namjoon said, he’s coming here just for you.

Groaning, you force yourself out of bed. The room has cooled slightly overnight, which wasn’t a problem under the thick duvet, but now you can’t seem to handle the cold as well as you usually do. Rushing into the en-suite, you’re first greeted by the warmth of the heated floor, and then by the horrifying sight of your reflection.

“Please, don’t,” you plead, as if your reflection could magically change the image of your swollen face, a result of the ridiculous amount of pastries you munched last night. Your dark circles look more like war paint than the result of a restless night—a far cry from a cute quirk.

There’s no point in using much makeup, not when you’re going to be snowboarding—or rather learning how to—all day, so you settle for a bit of concealer. It takes a lot of mental pep talk to leave the blush behind, knowing the cold will soon give you rosy cheeks and a red nose the second you step outside the hostel.

Getting dressed is a bit easier; you throw on some thermal black gear, braid your hair into two sections, and leave the room in search of either Namjoon or Yoongi.

It’s no surprise to find Yoongi by the fireplace again, empty plate and coffee nearby, but seeing Namjoon beside him—Yoongi clicking away on his laptop while Namjoon raps into a microphone—leaves you speechless. There’s a whole side of Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Sure, you only met him 12 hours ago, but you never would’ve imagined, in a million years, hearing him angrily spitting line after line. And despite his usual softness, this harshness leaves you nearly gasping for air.

What are you supposed to do? You’ve always had a weak spot for bad boys, men who exude confidence. And Namjoon is definitely giving off that vibe right now.

“Oh baby, what’s your name?”

The whimper that escapes your mouth is so embarrassing, especially when both men look up at you—Namjoon halting mid-rap—that you can’t, for the life of you, figure out what’s wrong with you. Are you really this pathetic, or was Jimin right all along? Maybe you just need a good shag to recalibrate your brain to normal. It’s been years, and considering the state you’re in now, something’s surely got to change.

You muster whatever dignity you have left and greet them as casually as possible, “Good morning.”

Yoongi, ever the ray of sunshine, doesn’t bother turning away from his laptop, clicking away as if you’re just a fly that’s wandered in. But Namjoon? He meets your eyes with a smile that could rival the dawn itself.

“Morning! Ready for breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

You’re smitten, and there’s no hiding it as he leads you to the dining area. A table is already set, and you recognise Jimin’s bread in an instant. Knowing how hungry you are after your late-night binge, you waste no time sitting down, your eyes glued to the treats and toppings on offer.

“Fancy a coffee?”

“Black would be perfect!”

“Not a sweet tooth?” Namjoon jokes, pouring you a cup from the thermos flask, the rich aroma battling with the scent of the food.

“Not in the morning.” You smile up at him.

“Probably because you’re sweet enough straight out of bed.”

His wink nearly makes you faint, and it’s clear that while Namjoon’s good with his tongue when rapping, he’s also very smooth with it. You wonder if…

“I guess so,” you mumble, too flustered to look him in the eye now.

He chuckles quietly and sits opposite you, not bothering to eat himself.

“Not hungry?” you ask, feeling a bit more composed as you distract yourself by preparing your breakfast.

“Nope, I just ate. Just wanted to keep you company.”

“That’s nice of you, thanks. I really hate eating alone, though I do it almost every meal. So, I appreciate it.”

“No worries, I’m happy to keep you company.”

“So, you rap?”

A lazy smirk forms on Namjoon’s face, his head tilted up slightly, and you know full well he’s aware of what he did to your hormones minutes ago. He only hums in confirmation.

Cocky. But you like it, and it suits him. You just hope he’s not too confident—that would be a massive turnoff.

“Side hustle or hobby?”

“Hobby, but Yoongi’s been putting a bee in my bonnet, to be honest.”

“He’s persistent when it comes to talent.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m talented, but he’s a dope producer. I didn’t recognise him at first, but man, I’m lucky to have him here. A literal world star staying in my hostel. I’m gonna have to make a wall of fame or something.”

You snort at that because as ridiculous as it sounds seeing Yoongi on a ‘wall of fame’, Namjoon’s not wrong. Yoongi is world-famous, though he prefers to keep a low profile, which you admire. Well, most of the time. Him being this tight with the expenses of the trip leaves a bit of a sour taste in your mouth—not caused by the coffee, that’s for sure.

“Are you famous too, by any chance?”

You snort again, “You wish.”

“Shame.”

“Tell me about it. Even though I’m the broke one, I’m still the one sugar-mommying him,” you mumble through your bites, not wanting to waste time without filling your stomach.

Namjoon’s laugh lights up the morning even further, and you’re all too glad you booked this hostel. It would’ve been miserable spending your time alone while Yoongi’s off doing his own thing every chance he gets.

“Any chance of getting a separate room?”

“Why?”

“I can’t spend another night lying awake because of Yoongi’s snoring.”

You look at each other, and suddenly the inconvenience doesn’t seem as bad as it did all night. Namjoon’s laugh is going to be your secret weak spot from now on.

“Sure, I’ll just move your luggage if you haven’t unpacked yet.”

“That’d be great. Thanks so much.”

“No worries.” Namjoon watches you for a bit while you eat, like it’s the most fascinating thing happening to him.

You don’t mind at all—it’s not awkward—but you can tell you’re running out of time by how slowly you’re eating.

“When do we have to leave? Is C here already?”

“Yeah, he got here a few hours ago but went straight to the slopes. You’ve got a few more minutes. I’ve sorted out some gear for you at Hope’s. He’ll give you everything you need for the week.”

It’s a relief knowing Namjoon has thought of everything, especially since you’re not fond of surprises or poorly planned outings.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“It’s my job, ___.” He winks at you again, and if you weren’t so focused on shovelling food down, you’d probably melt into your seat.

“All done,” you mumble through your last bite, crumbs shamelessly falling as you stand up.

“Perfect timing. I told Yoongi how to get to Hope’s; it’s not far.”

Not wanting to thank him yet again like a broken record, you just nod and follow him to the main room, where Yoongi’s already by the door, waiting. You’re not sure why he’s so eager when he didn’t even want to come in the first place, but you don’t dwell on it as you say goodbye to Namjoon and head out, Yoongi handing you your coat.

The walk to Hope’s? You’re not really sure despite Namjoon mentioning the name twice, but to the guy who runs the ski and snowboard equipment hire shop indeed isn’t far.

As soon as you step into his shop, you’re hit with the sight of all kinds of winter sports gear and old-school rap blaring at full volume—likely coming from some speakers behind the counter where the seller greets you.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Hey, we’re guests of Namjoon and—”

“___ and Yoongi! Of course, Namjoon’s already told me! I’m Hoseok!”

“Weird.”

“Shut up,” you hiss at Yoongi. “That’s perfect. It’s our first time, and there’s no way we’d know what we need.”

“I’ve got you. Just follow me, I’ll start by getting the right boots for you.”

“Thanks.”

There are so many boots in all sorts of colours and sizes that you’re not sure if they’re all for hire or if some are for sale, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s no way you’re going snowboarding again after these two weeks, so you’d gladly pick whatever’s the comfiest.

Yoongi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to share that thought, picking out the most expensive-looking boots. Truth be told, they do look the fanciest, and if you were as loaded as him, you’d go wild too. It’s with a jolt that you remember you’re the one paying for all this, and there’s no way you could afford the ones Yoongi’s holding up to inspect.

“Put them back,” you hiss, slapping his hand, scolding him for being so careless with your expenses.

“Ouch, that’s rude.”

“I’m not paying for them. Put them back before you damage them and I end up bankrupt.”

“So, what sizes do you usually wear?” Hoseok interrupts, completely unfazed by your bickering.

“Seven and a half.”

“Three and a half.”

“Dwarf.”

“Bigfoot.”

“I’ll bring you one size up,” Hoseok says with a smile. “Any particular colour you fancy?”

“Purple.”

“Black.”

“Got it, I’ll be right back.”

He leaves you both at the rack, disappearing behind a curtain into the back room.

“Could you stop embarrassing me, please?”

“I didn’t do shit, ___. Stop whining.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Need I remind you I’m doing you a favour here? Where’s the respect?”

“Sorry, oppa,” you bat your eyelashes at him mockingly.

“Say that again and I’m leaving.”

“How? Tony’s petrol’s empty. You’re going to walk home?”

“Bet.”

Just as you roll your eyes, Hoseok returns with two shoeboxes and two helmets, placing them down on a bench.

“I’ve brought you brand new ones. There weren’t many in your sizes I’d be comfortable renting out.”

Yoongi and you sit on opposite sides of the boxes while Hoseok removes the packaging from the new boots. Yours are purple, but just the laces and stitching—the rest is black, which gives them a more grown-up look compared to kids’ shoes. You fall in love with them instantly and eagerly grab one to put it on. But no luck.

Even though they’re fully open, you can’t seem to get your foot inside, despite your efforts. You stomp on the ground, pulling at the boot with both hands, but it’s no use. Yoongi, of course, isn’t struggling at all—typical, he’s good at everything.

“Here, let me help,” Hoseok kneels in front of you, securing your calf and the boot, angling the heel to the floor. “Now stand up and push your foot in.”

You do as he says, and with a soft, satisfying ‘plop’, your foot slides in without a hitch. “Thanks! That was easy!”

You repeat the process with the other boot, tightening the laces and clasps, then stand to take a few steps. You stumble slightly, not used to the weight and bulk of the boots, but soon get the hang of it.

“They need to fit quite snugly. When you’re fully geared up, make sure to fasten them as tight as possible. Otherwise, you’ll go flying, and your board will stay on the snow.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Yeah, sure.”

You don’t like this. You don’t like the idea or the mental image of being catapulted out of your boots while your snowboard says c’est la vie.

To your amazement, the helmets Hoseok picked for you and Yoongi fit perfectly as well.

“If you’re feeling good, let’s get you sorted with snowsuits, yeah?”

You nod and attempt to follow Hoseok, but Yoongi pulls you back down onto the bench, your ass hitting the hard surface with a rather painful thud.

“Take them off, idiot. How are you going to get a suit on with those still on?”

Ugh… it’s obvious, really, but you’re too stressed and anxious about snowboarding to function properly. It’s in moments like this that you start spiralling, regretting your decision all over again. You’re not sure what gave your thoughts away, but Yoongi seems to notice the shift in your mood, as he rests a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m here. Don’t stress.”

You lock eyes with him, and you can see a bit of regret there. It’s normal for you two to bicker and take the piss out of each other, but it’s also normal for you both to care. You love each other, like cousins do, and part of you regrets ever thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing him on this trip. Because honestly, there’s no one else in your life right now you’d rather do this with.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s all good. You’ve got this, okay?”

You just nod, loosening the clasps and laces to take the boots off and helmet, then walk in your socks over to where Hoseok is rummaging through racks of snowsuits.

It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to get your right sizes and for Yoongi to disappear into the changing room first. You’re not really sure how to start a conversation with him, but thankfully you’re saved by the shop’s phone ringing.

“Excuse me,” Hoseok smiles politely, walking towards the counter where the phone is obviously placed.

“Hope’s, how can I help you?”

You hold the snowboard jacket in front of your chest, admiring its intricate design in the mirror hanging in front of you, trying not to obviously listen in on the call.

“Jaykaaaaay.”

You freeze, the nickname ringing all sorts of alarm bells in your head. There’s no way it’s Jungkook; like, literally, there might be a million other people with that nickname. You need to calm down somehow, because if your anxiety rises any further than it already has, you’re sure you’re going to die from heart failure.

Hoseok’s repeated and drawn-out calling of this nickname doesn’t help in the slightest, and you reckon that if he repeats it one more time, you’d punch him in the face, even though you’re so not the type to be violent. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Thankfully, the cheerful shouts stop, and Hoseok listens in until he locks eyes with you, a smile forming. You try to figure out if all the people in this town have such perfect teeth, if there’s a dentist who works magic, or if everyone just has perfect high-end genetics you could only dream of.

“Yeah, they’re here at the moment.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. What do Yoongi and you have to do with this phone call?

“Just a few more minutes. I’ll send them to the beginners’ hill when we’re finished, yeah?”

Okay, hold up—it must be the instructor on the other line, and Namjoon and Jimin called him C, but Hoseok just called him Jaykay, which has nothing to do with C nor BSC. Was it even BSC? Anyway. There’s a very real chance that it’s definitely not Jungkook, because, shame on you, you’ve seen him post a picture from Hawaii last night on socials, which, obviously, isn’t here.

You don’t feel the need to ask Hoseok who it was or what’s going on with these multiple nicknames. For all you care, it could be a 50-year-old, and you’re stressing yourself out for nothing.

Hoseok comes to your side after he’s hung up, and Yoongi emerges at this moment too, though he’s not modelling his snowboard suit but has it draped over his arm.

“Fits,” is all Yoongi says, nodding once in Hoseok’s direction.

“Perfect, now it’s your turn.” Hoseok gestures for you to the changing room, and you don’t waste any more time. The faster you’re out of here, the faster this day is over, and that’s all you want as the snowboarding course gets closer.

“Thanks,” you mumble, searching for Yoongi’s eyes for just a little more reassurance, but he’s already too busy having a normal and civil conversation with Hoseok, something you wish he’d do more often with you.

There’s not much room in the changing room, especially when the snowboard trousers are this wide and baggy, so you fall against the walls multiple times, trying not to faceplant onto the floor.

“You good?” Hoseok’s voice is heard from outside, and it’s so unbelievably embarrassing realising that Yoongi had no struggle trying the clothes on because there wasn’t a sound coming from him. Not because the walls are thick or soundproof—no, because he’s simply doing well, like every human being should.

“Yeah!” you call, hoping that the high-pitched tone of your voice doesn’t give you away. But who are you kidding? There’s the low but unmistakable giggle and some mumbled words from Yoongi, followed by Hoseok’s shrill laughter.

You’re going to kill Yoongi, going to push him down the hill and watch him become a snowball and crash into the abyss of a glacier. Stupid moron—you should have left him at home and come alone, and the sharp tug of your jacket’s zipper punctuates your resentment perfectly.

The anger fades as fast as it came, because you look like the coolest professional snowboarder on earth. You twist and turn, make a bum-check, but realise there’s not much to see in these oversized clothes. Still, you feel good in them, especially as your body heat multiplies, which is the best sign that you’ll survive all day in the snow.

Knowing you’ll have to leave as soon as you’re finished, you take the jacket off and rip the price tag away. After undoing the trousers and doing the same, you don’t care if the gear is expensive. Even if so, you’d still use it for sledging or in case of a blizzard or something. You’re sure you’ll get creative with its use.

Sipping everything back up, you collect your down jacket and step out of the changing room, not as elegantly as usual, but more with a rustle and a slight swaying due to the fabric. You can’t suppress the smile that grows on your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok looking equal parts amused and approving of your appearance. You’re all going to get a good laugh out of it when you’re wearing the snowboard boots as well, and that’s all you need right now—humour to suppress the anxiety.

Two snowboards are already lined up. Hoseok helps you into the boots again, while Yoongi masters dressing himself like a real grown-up.

“C’s going to adjust the boot holders on the snowboards for you, so you can just take them with you as they are. They fit your height. And you can leave your shoes and jackets here and collect them whenever you’re finished for the day.”

“That’d be great.”

“Thanks, Jwe-Hope.”

You side-eye Yoongi. Why’s he getting soft with Hoseok? And why does he give him yet another nickname, as if the man doesn’t already have enough?

“No prob, Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok says in an exaggeratedly playful tone, while Yoongi dabs him goodbye.

You’re fascinated by how Hoseok managed to melt the ‘Ice King’s’ heart in the few minutes you were away, and it’s even more fascinating how Yoongi just heads for the door without you even having paid yet.

“Yo, wait! I need to pay!”

“Yep, I’m outside having a smoke.”

There’s nothing you can do as Yoongi leaves without even turning back, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I’d like to pay, please.”

Hoseok nods with a smile and you follow him to the register. He scans one tag after the other, the price skyrocketing while your bank account starts to scream in the background.

“That’ll be 899 dollars,” he beams.

Your smile is wobbly, as is your hand as you hand over your credit card, knowing that this trip will be more expensive than you ever thought.

“Thanks again, Hoseok.”

“No problem, and please call me Hope.”

“Sure, Hope,” you say, securing your credit card in the inner pocket of your jacket. “Have a nice day, and see you later.”

“See ya, bye!” He waves enthusiastically as you head for the door, interrupting Eminem’s Godzilla with your stomping and rattling. How ironic.

Yoongi’s leaning against the shop’s wall as you step outside, just about to take a drag of his cigarette as he notices you glaring at him. Snatching the cigarette from his lips, you take a drag yourself.

“Thought you quit.”

“Give me a break, I need to calm my nerves.”

“Reckon some coke would be better, you’d feel invincible and wouldn’t be scared shitless.”

“Reckon you could just shut up, yeah?”

He just laughs as you give him his cigarette back and make your way to where you assume the slope is.

“This way.”

You stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath with closed eyes. You don’t want to go off at him again; you’ll need every ounce of energy, and wasting it by bickering isn’t the way to go.

Reluctantly, with the snowboard and helmet awkwardly clasped in your hands, you manage to follow Yoongi, though walking on asphalt is rather uncomfortable in these boots, though the walk might be again very short.

True to that, arriving in a few minutes at the beginner’s hill is a bit sobering. The hill’s neither high nor steep, even kids with sledges would probably call it boring, but you don’t mind one bit. Honestly, it’s perfect for you. No real chance of getting hurt and ending up like one of those cute little animals from Happy Tree Friends.

Off to the side, there’s the lift access and the main slopes, with skiers and snowboarders already queuing up for their first or maybe their nth lift of the day.

One snowboarder shooting down the steepest hill, which just so happens to be the only one of its kind, catches your attention. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, and the way he moves is hypnotic. You can’t help but think he must be a pro, maybe even an Olympian.

“Look! He’s so good.” You point him out to Yoongi, who shifts from looking bored to mildly impressed.

“Why’s he coming our way, though?”

“No way.”

But it’s true. He’s definitely your instructor. And not some fifty-year-old guy, either. There’s a lump in your throat you can’t quite swallow, especially because this guy’s height seems just a little too familiar… maybe too much like Jungkook’s. As far as you remember, at least.

You try to reason with yourself. Tell yourself there’s no way this is happening, because he’s got to be in Hawaii—Instagram stories and TikToks made that pretty clear, playing the role of a drunk uncle on family gatherings who can’t keep personal matters shut. You cling to that thought as the man stops a few feet away from you. You cling to it when he takes off his helmet, revealing just a black balaclava. You cling to it even when his eyes give him away.

But when he pulls off the balaclava, all you’re left with is the crushing realisation that you’re absolutely, without a doubt, screwed.

“Hey.”

Jungkook’s voice hasn’t changed much—maybe it’s a little rougher, could be also just from the cold—but it’s still the sound that makes you want to cry. Or run. Honestly, either would work right now.

His eyes lock onto yours, and all you can do is stare, wide-eyed, as if he’s some unreal figure, like a fairytale character suddenly brought to life.

You’ve watched Jungkook mature over the last few years—not in person, but still. You’ve seen the piercings he’s got and the tattoos currently hidden beneath his gear and gloves, and you’re suddenly more than aware that even though he was perfect back then and you shouldn’t have persuaded him to get piercings and tattoos, he’s become the one man you always knew he would be, if not more.

“S’up,” Yoongi just nodding.

That makes Jungkook glance at him, almost as if he’s only just noticed he’s standing there. A small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came, and he holds out his gloved fist for Yoongi to bump.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, your instructor.”

“Min Yoongi.”

“The producer Min Yoongi?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook glances back and forth between you and Yoongi several times, and it dawns on you—he doesn’t know you and Yoongi are cousins. Yoongi was abroad the entire time you were with Jungkook and only came back right after the split, so of course, he never met him. And this… this is something you can work with. Maybe you can use it to keep Jungkook at arm’s length, or at the very least, avoid a complete emotional meltdown if Jungkook’s indeed moved on.

So you laugh softly and link your arm with Yoongi’s, resting your head on his shoulder, who just looks down at you, clearly confused by your sudden affection but, to his credit, says nothing. He knows you well enough to trust there’s a reason behind it.

“___.”

“Jungkook.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s my ex.” Jungkook’s smile isn’t the warm, beautiful one you remember. No, it’s that slightly unhinged smile, the one with his head tilted just so, and it makes you silently gulp.

“That ex?” Yoongi asks, even though he knows full well there’s only one. You reckon he caught on quickly to the game you’re playing.

You hum in agreement, but Jungkook can’t help himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luckily, Yoongi knows how to steer a conversation. “Aren’t we supposed to be learning how to snowboard?”

There’s a brief pause, and you see the way Jungkook’s nostrils flare slightly as he takes a deep, calming breath.

“Yes, sorry. Let’s get started.”

Jungkook bends down to unclip his boots from his board and stands up again, tossing his board into the snow so it sticks upright. Yoongi follows suit, shoving his board into the snow like it’s second nature. You try to copy them but fail miserably, wondering how they made it look so easy when the snow’s this solid.

“Here, let me help.” Yoongi, surprisingly, helps you without his usual snarky comments about your lack of strength.

“Alright,” Jungkook claps once to grab your attention. “Before we get into any of the fancy stuff, let’s talk theory. Snowboarding’s all about awareness. It’s not just physical—you’ve got to keep your head in the game.”

“Awareness? Like, where you’re looking?” Yoongi asks dryly, acting dumb you know he isn’t.

“Exactly. Where you’re looking, where your body’s pointing,” Jungkook gestures bizarrely between you and himself, barely glancing at Yoongi. “That’s where you’ll go. Simple as that. If you’re distracted—by, say, something or someone—you’ll lose focus. And losing focus means losing control.”

Yoongi, unfazed, just rolls with it, clearly enjoying the little drama Jungkook seems keen to stir up. “Makes sense. Keep your eyes on the path ahead, yeah?”

“Exactly, mate. Eyes forward, always. But it’s more than just looking. It’s feeling the terrain beneath you. Even when you’re standing still, you’re never really still. You need to sense the environment. Be present, y’know?”

You nod, though in reality, you’ve got no clue what he’s talking about.

“Some people, though,” Jungkook continues, “they get distracted easily. Head in the clouds. Or… elsewhere.”

Oh, you’re not letting that slide. Whether he’s jabbing at you, Yoongi, or both, you’re not having it. “Could you just explain the theory without the snide remarks?”

Jungkook’s taken aback, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, just trying to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

You just shake your head, and he carries on.

“Right. Balance—this is key. It’s all about your centre of gravity. Too stiff, and you’ll fall over. Too loose, and you’ll just flop around.”

“Don’t want that, do we?” Yoongi smirks, clearly challenging Jungkook to keep his little act going.

“No, mate, you really don’t. Trust me. You need to find that sweet spot—controlled, but relaxed. Kind of like…” he glances at you, “when you’ve got things under control in your life, but you’re still going with the flow, yeah?”

Your eyes narrow at him, but you bite your tongue. There’s no point in calling him out when Yoongi’s clearly enjoying winding him up.

“Sounds like life advice, that. Keepin’ balance, goin’ with the flow.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, “Not that everyone takes it to heart.”

Oh, no, he did not just say that. You never expected Jungkook to be this petty. He’s the one who moved on first. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing. Anyway, let’s get warmed up. Let’s do some exercises using the hill.”

You thought that ‘warming up’ would mean some jumping jacks and stretching, but oh, how wrong you are.

Jungkook has you and Yoongi running up and down the beginner’s hill without regret, and honestly, you can now confirm—it’s very much steeper than it looks.

While Jungkook just looks on, you and Yoongi can’t stop laughing and joking about how you are both panting like you’d just run a marathon, earning you multiple scoldings from Jungkook to stay focused. Not that it matters much, considering the only thing worth focusing on was trying to catch your breath—you nearly passed out twice at this point.

Despite Yoongi also being knackered, he still holds up better than you, but you can’t help but to clap him on the ass with a sarcastic “atta girl” more than once, which not only annoys him but seems to make Jungkook’s jaw clench in irritation too.

After what feels like the tenth climb, Jungkook finally calls it, walking towards you. “Enough. Short break.”

You and Yoongi groan in relief, collapsing onto the snow, letting your breathing slow down gradually. Only now, as you lie there exhausted, do you notice how beautiful the day is, the sky almost completely clear of clouds. From the position of the sun, you reckon it’s close to lunchtime, your stomach already growling in gratitude at the thought of food after all this exercise.

Turning your head to the side, you glance over at Yoongi, who’s also lying on the cool snow, admiring the sky. Suddenly, you feel sentimental. You really hit the jackpot having him as a cousin—he’s probably the most reliable person you know. It’s moments like this, especially when he turns to look at you with those soft eyes and that warm smile, that remind you how much you appreciate him. Reaching out, you intertwine your hands, knowing he’ll understand the rare moment of affection and let it happen for once.

“Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Anytime.” Yoongi squeezes your hand, his gummy smile spreading across his face, a trait he’s clearly inherited from his dad.

Jungkook’s rather aggressive throat-clearing reminds you that you’re indeed not alone. Your petty ex is standing right there, looking as irritated as he’s been all day.

“Let’s do some stretches, then we’ll get on the boards,” he says, trying to mask his annoyance but clearly fails.

You and Yoongi drag yourselves up, lining up in front of Jungkook like school kids, who’s about to demonstrate some stretch when, in the distance, someone calls out Jungkook’s nickname—one you’ve found increasingly odd now.

“C!”

There’s a beautiful woman running towards him waving energetically, the same woman you saw in pictures with him on social media.

“Hara!” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop her up when she’s near, lifting her off the ground as they giggle together.

You’d never admit it, but the sight makes you feel physically sick. You’d rather gouge your eyes out than watch this scene unfold ever again. At least you’ve made Jungkook believe you’re with Yoongi—otherwise, you’re not sure how you’d survive the fresh stab to your heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she scolds him playfully, tapping his arm while he still holds her hands.

You can’t bear the sight of his eyes sparkling for someone else, so you turn to Yoongi, who’s raising an eyebrow at you, silently asking if you’re okay. There’s no need to respond. You both know the truth—you’re still not over your ex. But what could you have done? Begged him to take you back before he found someone else? No. That’s not who you are, and you wouldn’t have stopped him from living the life he clearly enjoys now.

But seeing him today, seeing how hurt he is just by the sight of you—or rather, you with someone else—makes you uneasy. Especially when Hara is being overly affectionate with him.

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Hara.” She turns to you, extending her delicate hand. You briefly consider ignoring her, but you decide to be the bigger person. Unlike Jungkook, who’s been cold all day, you take off your glove and shake her hand, introducing yourself politely. Take that, Jungkook.

She moves on to Yoongi, and after he introduces himself, her face lights up like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh my God! I’m such a fan! You’re, like, the best producer ever!” she gushes, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to burst out laughing at the sour expression on Jungkook’s face.

You: 2, Jungkook: 0.

“Really?” you ask with a mischievous grin, keen to twist the knife further. “Oppa, you should definitely sign something for her, don’t you think?”

Yoongi shoots you a look that could kill, but he simply smiles, his eyes betraying all the curses he’s silently aiming at you. “Of course.”

Still clutching Yoongi’s hand like it’s a lifeline, Hara turns her head back to Jungkook. “Oh my God! Did you hear that, C?”

“I heard,” Jungkook replies through gritted teeth. “Why are you out here in the cold, by the way?”

“Oh, right. I came to tell you that Namjoon’s arranged lunch at Tae’s.”

“That’s nice of him,” you sing sweetly, unable to resist adding a little extra honey to your voice. Everyone else gets your praise, everyone but Jungkook. Maybe you’re just as petty as he is, but you’re not backing down now, especially not when you can see his patience fraying by the second, his eyes dark with annoyance. A reaction is a reaction at this point.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Hara continues, turning and clinging to Jungkook’s arm and batting her eyelashes at him, “can you pretty, pretty please come to Jin’s tonight and tomorrow? We need help getting everything ready for the party in two days.”

It’s odd seeing Jungkook so easily swayed by her, the kind of behaviour you never thought he’d entertain. But maybe he’s changed, or maybe you never knew him as well as you thought.

“Sure, anything for you.”

Yep, you’re definitely going to throw up in the snow.

“What party?” Yoongi pipes up, earning himself a mental kick from you. There’s no way you’re attending a party where Jungkook will be.

“An early Christmas party! You’re both invited, of course. From what I’ve heard from Jimin and Namjoon, you two fit right in with everyone here,” she giggles.

For once, you and Jungkook seem to be on the same page, as he starts, “I’m sure they’ve got better—”

But for what feels like the hundredth time today, Yoongi interrupts, “No, we’d love to come. Thanks for inviting us.”

That crazy smile Jungkook had earlier is now plastered across your face as you look at Yoongi. Despite the silent argument raging between you two, you can’t help but trust him. Whatever plan he’s concocting, you have no idea, but you’re sure he’ll fill you in when you’re back at the hostel, alone.

For now, though, you trust him, because what else can you do?

"Let’s head to Tae’s then."

“With the boards?” you ask dumbly, because there’s no way you’re carrying your board across town.

“No, just leave it here and see what happens.” Jungkook smiles, a grin that instantly vanishes when Hara punches his chest.

“What’s with you? Be kind.”

“Sorry, noona.”

Ooh. So he’s with an older woman. Who’d have thought? It shouldn’t get under your skin this much, but it’s been a crap day, hell, even some crap years, and there’s nothing you can do to undo every thrilling experience you wish you hadn’t gone through because of him.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi mutters, grabbing not just his snowboard but yours too. If there’s one thing you could do to repay him for this gesture, it’d be to name him the sole recipient in your will. Not that you’ve got much to leave behind, but the thought counts, right?

You hadn’t expected ‘Tae’s’ to be a cabin on the slopes nearby, nor did you think it’d be a luxurious home rather than a restaurant. As you approach the door, you’re impressed—there’s no sign of it being some kind of inn as Hara rings the bell.

It doesn’t take long for someone to open the door, wearing nothing but some slacks and an open bathrobe, showing off his tanned, chiselled chest.

“C!”

“Tae!”

The two men pull each other into a bear hug, patting each other’s backs like they’re trying to knock the wind out of each other. Male friendships—you’ll never get them, and honestly, you’re glad you were born a woman with every violent tap.

When they part and Tae gives Hara a few friendly kisses on the cheek, you notice she’s just as comfortable with him as she is with Jungkook. Odd.

Then Tae turns to greet you and Yoongi. His eyes widen when he spots Yoongi, and a huge, boxy smile spreads across his face, so wide it looks like his face might split.

“Hyung!”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi replies, sounding strangled as he gets crushed in the taller man’s arms.

You’re torn between being amused by the visible disgust on Yoongi’s face as he’s squashed against Taehyung’s bare chest or offended that Yoongi never mentioned he knows someone who lives here.

“Please let me go.”

“Sorry, hyung, it’s been ages! How are you?”

“Good.”

“Ah, I’m doing well too, hyung, I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell.”

It’s amusing how Jungkook and Hara are a bit thrown off by Yoongi’s coldness, but as far as you can tell, both you and Taehyung know it’s just Yoongi being his little ray of sunshine. He’s genuinely happy to see Taehyung again, even if he doesn’t show it openly.

“And who’s this Miss Universe you’ve brought along? Are you on your honeymoon?”

You don’t have a chance to answer when Taehyung turns to you, because frankly, his intense gaze and barely-dressed body in the cold are a bit overwhelming. It’s kind of bizarre that he’s standing there in the open, half-naked, while the rest of you are bundled up for the weather. You force yourself not to check if his nipples are hard and instead stretch out your hand politely.

“That’s ___.” Yoongi’s voice is heard.

But Taehyung ignores your outstretched hand and steps forward, pulling you into an embrace and kissing your cheek, completely throwing your composure out the window.

“Are you two dating?”

You glance at Yoongi over Taehyung’s shoulder, both of you equally unsure how to answer. Yes, you’re pretending, but outright lying is something neither of you is comfortable with.

“We’re—” you start to say, dragging it out, but thankfully, for reasons you can’t quite grasp, Jungkook grabs Taehyung’s shoulder, pulling him away from you and cutting in. For once, you’re grateful for Jungkook’s stupidity.

“Let’s get inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Yes, right! Come in, come in.”

Entering Taehyung’s place is nothing short of wild. The grand open space is filled with dubious art pieces, the kind where you’d rather not know the price tag.

It doesn’t take long to kick off your snowboard boots and gear, leaving you in your base layers. Despite the warmth inside, the sudden shift in layers makes you shiver slightly, especially since there’s nothing in your stomach to keep you warm.

Following Taehyung further inside, you let your eyes wander, and you can’t help but stop when you spot the massive dining table, looking more like something out of a castle. It’s not the Korean BBQ on it that catches your attention but rather the chairs lined up around it. They’re shiny black. Not so unusual, except for the fact that they’re shaped like the backside of a person—naked, at that.

Yoongi, absolutely unfazed, just grins and gives you a light shove on the lower back to keep you moving.

“I hope you’re hungry. I brought plenty, so don’t feel like you’ve got to be all posh and eat like a bird.”

Rounding the table, you sit down beside Yoongi, while Hara joins Taehyung on the other side of the table. Why Jungkook chose to sit next to you, when there are thousands of other free chairs, is a mystery you’re not eager to unravel. Especially when you shoot him an irritated look as he sits down, and he just smiles like it’s the most normal thing in the world—as if the two of you weren’t split ages ago.

Not wanting to dwell too long on that and because you’re intestines are eating you alive at this point, you turn to your host.

“Thanks for having us, Taehyung. I’m starving after being tortured all morning.”

Everyone laughs at your comment—except Jungkook, who tries to nudge your ribs with his elbow, but you dodge, still somehow familiar with his antics.

“I didn’t torture you.”

“You did,” Yoongi mutters, boldly reaching for the meat to throw on the table grill, which has been sizzling away since you sat down.

“C always tortures people, nothing new,” Hara remarks, and Jungkook looks more betrayed than the day you broke up with him.

“You’re mean, noona.”

“‘You’re mean, noona,’” you mock him, cringing at yourself even as the words come out. It disgusts you how petty you’re being, and you recoil from it inwardly. The others don’t seem to share your sentiment, laughing at Jungkook being moody.

“Oppa, how do you know Taehyung?”

“Please, just call me Tae.”

“You remember the paintings in my studio? He’s the artist.” Yoongi answers you casually, though you can sense how much it bothers him being called oppa.

“No way! That’s so cool!” You gush, letting your eyes drift to the artwork hung on the walls as Yoongi adds food to your plate, much to Jungkook’s annoyance, which he makes clear with a side-eye.

“Aww, it’s not much.”

“Shut up, you’re amazing,” Hara scolds Tae, and you can’t help but think that, under other circumstances, you’d probably want to be friends with her. She seems funny and genuinely nice, which just makes it suck more the longer you dwell on it.

“I’ve been looking for a painting to hang above my bed for ages, but I can never find the right one,” you mention, trying to steer the conversation as far away from Jungkook as possible.

“If something catches your eye, you’re free to have it, ___.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t spoil her; she doesn’t deserve it,” Yoongi jokes, and you know he’s kidding with the way his eyes flit to you.

“Wow,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, but before you can respond, Taehyung cuts in.

“Why? What did she do?”

Oh no. Yoongi wouldn’t… but of course, he does.

“Little Miss Adrenaline here has been dragging me to most of her adventures since I got back from the States.”

“That’s not true. It’s only been a few,” you try to save face, but it’s hopeless with Yoongi being both your closest ally and worst enemy.

“So bungee jumping, kite surfing, and now snowboarding isn’t ‘most’?”

“No! I’ve done plenty without you, stop lying.”

“But it was enough.”

“They’re bickering like an old married couple,” Hara laughs, clearly torn between which of you to watch.

“It’s not enough—you’ve left me on my own more times than I can count!”

“At least I was there when you whined beforehand and came back all fuzzy after.”

“How noble of you.”

“You don’t seem like the thrill-seeker type, no offence,” Taehyung adds when Yoongi doesn’t come back with a retort.

“Well, sometimes you’ve got to step out of your comfort zone.”

“Yeah! Look at you, trying snowboarding all bold and brave! Kind of like all the things you said you weren’t into when we were dating.”

The table falls into a deathly silence. Jungkook’s words ring out in the open space, echoing painfully in your heart and being. You’re stunned, utterly speechless at his outburst—it’s so unlike the Jungkook you knew. You don’t know what to say, and thankfully, Yoongi spares you the need.

“Want some more meat?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your voice is quiet, too low to betray the trembling in it, but you’re sure everyone feels the hurt radiating from you. You don’t want to feel like a kicked puppy, but somehow, because Jungkook still means so much to you, it stings deeply.

The conversation between the others resumes, though you and Jungkook remain silent for the rest of the meal, though you reckon he doesn’t regret anything.

You learn that Hara is the same age as Yoongi, and that Taehyung is a bit older than Jungkook—though only by two years.

Even though you haven’t recovered from Jungkook’s jab just yet, you start to enjoy the food, feeling more energised than you did this morning. Jungkook, however, is still steeped in his pettiness, especially when Yoongi helps you tear a perilla leaf off the stack.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but the constant negative energy from Jungkook is draining you to the point where you’re not sure you’ll even make it back outside for the snowboarding session.

Luckily, neither Yoongi nor Jungkook seem to mind dragging the day out here at Taehyung’s place. Hours pass, and after Tae makes you his special smoothie for your ‘sure-to-be-sore muscles,’ and Hara spills all the gossip you never knew you needed, it’s clear the snowboarding course is off for today.

While Tae and Hara clean up the kitchen, and Yoongi and Jungkook, to your surprise, get along enough to talk shop about music, you take the opportunity to admire Tae’s paintings, hoping to find one that fits what you’ve been searching for.

There are several abstract pieces, bold in colours and strokes, but they feel too chaotic, making you feel restless. You’re about to give up when your eyes land on a smaller piece above the fireplace, drawing you in immediately.

It’s beautiful—abstract as well, but with muted colours. You think you can make out flowers, or perhaps there are angels. You’re not sure, but the painting exudes a calm, controlled aura that you can’t tear yourself away from. Reading the title on the little card in the corner, you see “All of My Good is Yours.” It’s poetic, and it speaks to you on a deeper level.

“You like it?” Taehyung asks, stepping up beside you, hands in the pockets of his bathrobe. With his tousled hair and laid-back vibe, he looks every bit the artist.

“Yes, it’s lovely.”

“You want it?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you.”

“Of course you can. I’d be happy to gift it to you.”

You smile softly, thanking him as you admire the painting once more, already picturing it above your bed.

“What’s the title about?” you ask, curious about the story behind the piece.

“C? Come over here real quick.”

You’re more than confused when Tae calls for Jungkook, not understanding the connection between him and this painting. You just hope the confusion isn’t written as plainly on your face as it is on Jungkook’s when he approaches you both, stopping just short between you and Tae.

“S’up?”

“What’s the title about?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker nervously between you, the painting, and Taehyung. “Why are you asking?”

“I gifted her your painting,” Taehyung beams, completely unaware he’s just dug your grave and pushed you in.

The laugh that escapes Jungkook is anything but friendly, his eyes filled with what looks to close to hatred as they land on you.

“Of course,” he breathes, then eventually explains with a disdainful smirk, “it’s about a lover who knows he can’t live without the other.”

You’re shocked to the core. Was this painting meant for Hara, and it ended up at Tae’s by mistake? Or why would Jungkook paint something so meaningful in the first place? You can’t handle it after learning the meaning and that he painted it, even though it’s exactly what you’d envisioned.

You take the hit anyway and say, as neutrally as possible, “I guess I shouldn’t take it then. It feels too personal.”

“Why?” Jungkook scoffs. “It was supposed to be yours anyway.”

Jungkook turns around at that, leaving you gaping after him. It’s not just his mood swings but also his remarks that are giving you whiplash at this point, and seeing the equally shocked expression on Taehyung’s face, you reckon Jungkook isn’t usually this bitter.

“Well…”

“Well…” Taehyung echoes.

“Still want it?”

Do you? You’re not sure anymore, but maybe there’s enough time to figure out if you can look past it all and take it home.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Sure, just let me know, and I’ll pack it up for you.”

“Thanks, Tae. You’re too kind.”

“No worries.” He smiles as he walks back with you to where the others are lounging on his massive couch.

You don’t even have the chance to sit before Yoongi stands up and nudges you back to your feet. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

“I want a nap.”

“What about the course?” Jungkook chimes in.

“Tomorrow, mate. Today’s done.”

You’re grateful Yoongi made the decision for you because you wouldn’t have been able to say no to either Jungkook’s company or the course itself, even though both aren’t exactly the healthy pastime. But looking outside, with the late afternoon light fading, going back to the slopes doesn’t seem as inviting as it did earlier.

“Aight,” Jungkook says, clapping his hands on his thighs as he stands up too, completely unfazed by your puzzled expression.

“Wait, we need to get our stuff from Hope’s,” you call after Yoongi, who’s already slipping into his boots.

“I’ll call him and let him know you’re coming tomorrow,” Taehyung offers.

You’re not sure if it’s rude of you to leave it like that, but you thank him anyway, hoping it won’t be a big deal.

Everyone’s getting dressed in seconds, and once again, you’re struggling with your boots while everyone else watches. You try not to let the embarrassment show, but there’s no stopping the blush. Even when you throw pleading glances at Yoongi, he doesn’t offer any help.

“Let me help.”

Jungkook being the one to help is something you never expected after how the day has gone, but you’re grateful nonetheless. He bends down, and like Hope earlier, he takes the boot and your calf in his hands.

It’s nostalgic, him touching you, helping you when you’re the damsel in distress, and it makes you think about how different things would’ve been if you’d stayed by his side. You’re not sure how to feel—sad or angry. But who should you be angry at? Him? For moving on? Or yourself? Or maybe at Yoongi, for not stepping up like a cousin should in moments like this?

“Thank you, Kook.” You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip, hadn’t wanted to see Jungkook’s starry eyes locked onto yours as though you’ve broken his heart all over again. But what’s done is done, and there’s no taking it back now. Not even the nickname.

“Thanks for having us, Tae.” Yoongi gives him a quick dab, and after Jungkook does the same, and you say your goodbyes, you leave with Hara.

You try to stay close to Yoongi, avoiding the other two. You don’t even have the energy to scold him for not helping you earlier. And while you walk silently towards the hostel, Hara takes a different route to wherever she’s staying.

You don’t ask, and you definitely don’t watch as she kisses Jungkook’s cheek as if they won’t see each other later at Jin’s. It’s different from how she kissed Taehyung, and you’re pretty sure even if they’re not officially dating, they’re at least sleeping together. The thought stings though.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach Namjoon’s hostel, Jungkook, maybe for old time’s sake, opens the door for you to step in first, and when the door chime rings, you both glance up at the same time. There’s none of the old playfulness in his gaze, just a sadness you wish you’d never seen. You reckon it’s all just old feelings resurfacing—thoughts of the good times, ignoring all the things that went wrong.

“Hey! You’re back!” Namjoon calls from behind the reception desk, flipping through some books as the three of you stomp inside with your snow-covered boots. Just hours ago you thought his smile and laugh would be your weak spot, only to fade into insignificance after Jungkook’s presence. “How was it?”

“I’m still alive,” you and Yoongi mutter in unison, bringing a small smile to your lips. It’s not much, but it’s all you can muster right now.

“Told you C would take good care of you both.” Namjoon laughs while Jungkook shrugs off his jacket. He’s probably too warm already, like he always is.

“Your luggage is—”

“In our room, thanks, Namjoon.” You hope he catches the hint as you give him a crazed look, willing him to stop talking.

“Right, in your room.”

To his credit, Namjoon’s clearly confused, and he’s got every right to be, but he plays along, which is exactly what you need right now.

“I’m taking a nap. Bye.”

“Bye!” You wave at Namjoon, following Yoongi in a desperate bid to escape spending another minute with Jungkook. It feels rude, the way you’ve treated Namjoon, but you hope he’ll brush it off as exhaustion.

You just want a bath and then to crash, even though it’s still early evening. It doesn’t matter that Yoongi’s snoring will probably keep you up; as long as you don’t have to face Jungkook again today, that’s all that matters. Especially when you see him entering the room across from yours as you close the door to the honeymoon suite, knowing that he’ll be off to be with Hara any minute.

masterlist • 02

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @leah-rose03

Tags

reblog jungkook fluff exes to lovers jungkook angst jungkook fic jungkook ongoing fic

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koorosie

3 years ago

—chapter ten: chasing pavements

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 2k

summary: august slips away like a moment in time. slowly, day after another. a story of love that never meant to be.

previous || next

a/n: sorry for the delay, my loves. i was going through some writer’s block lately and didn’t really have any energy to write but i’m over it now, so here’s a new chapter. prepare tissues :)

If you could use just two words to describe what is it like to be in love with Jeon Jungkook, you’d say it’s like chasing pavements. Fruitless activity, trying to achieve something destined to failure, a result of your blind hope, and perhaps foolishness.

Keep reading

377 notes View Post

koorosie

1 year ago

31K notes View Post

koorosie

3 years ago

if it isn’t me

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: protecting jungkook with your life is your job — raising his daughter isn't.

alternatively, jungkook's a single dad for the meantime according to his own words, and lowering down his pride will not stop at anything in begging you to help him with things outside of your paygrade.

[ no applicable warnings!! ]

notes: heh just a silly goofy angsty drabble </3 i got sent an ask abt this trope just this morning and after a few hours of frying my brain and getting the urge to write this, here we are now!! tell me what you think :)

Jungkook always tries to handle more than what he could carry.

If there’s a particular thing he’d pride himself in being good in since he was young, it would be multitasking. He’d want to do everything at once simply because he doesn’t want to spend a minute longer than necessary for a task he can wrap up just as quick.

He carries all the groceries in one trip even if the handles of the bags dig onto his palm and leave a sore pink mark. He’d rather put every item he bought into place rather than sitting on the couch for a minute, wanting to everything get over with before he relaxes.

When Jungkook gets ahold of his scripts, he reads and memorizes the current page and subconsciously highlights the other page just by skimming alone.

He multitasks then he packs his gym bag and his daughter’s diaper bag at the same time, the two of them side by side on the bedsheets he’s going to change out anyway. He takes turns grabbing each of their things from their separate closets, the baby’s growing in quantity each day.

Sunhee’s eight months old now and therefore a little more fussy when she wants her milk wherever, a blubber already in her throat even before her dad could soothe her with back rubs.

Jungkook doesn’t know to the highest extent if everything he does as a father to Sunhee is right because he’s still learning — he continues to learn everyday that he’s with her. The unease and insecurity in his ribs never leave but they would calm down when he sees that she’s happy, even if she spends twenty minutes crying over him holding her cereal the wrong way.

Jungkook knows that he’s doing right when he boils water to the right temperature to put in a tiny thermos he bought specifically for her, then scooping in formula to a tiered container that would just require him to pour down the powder before he shakes the bottle, no measuring and fussing needed.

He recalled scouring baby stores twenty minutes before closing with a hood on his head and sunglasses on his face. He wanted to sniff BPA-free milk containers to ensure safety even if it meant looking suspicious, as long as he knows Sunhee would only have the best and he wouldn’t run the risk of being recognized in a baby store of all places.

He knows he’s doing somehow right when he bring Sunhee to his schedules and sits her on his lap as he rehearses his lines. The two of them are together and Jungkook gets to work at the same time.

She’s not exactly a high-maintenance baby, but she immediately notices when her dad gives her kisses on her cheeks and passes her to Seokjin, a scent she’s somehow familiar to at this point. He’s Jungkook’s manager and one of his most trusted confidants, already a brother to him at this point.

Jin handles practically everything for him and protects him to no end, even from his own staff members that look at his niece a second too long. They’re aware — they are aware of Sunhee.

They’re aware of Sunhee and her chunky bread rolls for limbs, so soft and pure under their loving gazes. Knows about her babbles and the words she’s sometimes able to form from only hearing it a couple of times around set.

They know about Sunhee and how her obvious cuteness and prettiness come from two of her parents. Her parents that are on the big-screen despite appearing separately, known for their incomparable talents and charms.

They know about how the world is for her taking but little miss Sunhee doesn’t quite know about it yet, the wideness and shine in her eyes only making them hope that she’d never lose any of those.

Jungkook knows too. Knows all about how only the few select people in his life are aware that he’s a dad and Sunhee is perhaps the most loving baby there is. He’s thankful to say the least, seeing how if he decides to try and not handle more than what he could carry, there’d be people looking for both him and Sunhee.

Yet if there’s just one particularly bad thing Jungkook doesn’t pride himself in being prone at succumbing to, it would be his state of overwhelm.

He’s overwhelmed whenever Sunhee shrieks at the same time he’s frustrated with his mouthful of lines. She’s pretty early and advanced for her age to even babble and sometimes form audible words, but she’s obviously not an adult Jungkook’s used to communicating with on a daily basis. He can’t be mad at her for being her age seeing to it that she’s a literal baby, but he can’t help himself when his throat gets stuffy because he can’t understand her sometimes.

He’s overwhelmed when he doesn’t know what exactly Sunhee wants. Even if he’s changed her diaper and put rash cream just in case the friction is what bothers her, she still thrashes around. When Jungkook prepares her milk and takes the time to submerge her bottle on a water bath rather than using the instant bottle warmer, she shoves his hand away.

He caves in and tries to coax her to calm down by giving her snacks, and yet the mild sweetness her cereal puffs have that Sunhee would go crazy for in any other situation, is barely glanced upon. Even when he carries her and walks up and down the stairs, even if he takes her outside to get fresh air, or even when he drowns her in loud kisses with the mwah! audible in each one — Jungkook doesn’t know what Sunhee wants and lets her cry it out even if he wants to help, even if he’s alone and overwhelmed.

He gets overwhelmed now when he can’t figure out what Sunhee wants because just from two minutes ago, she wanted to fiddle with the tube of lip balm that her dad gets back from her because she keeps putting it in her mouth. She’s since recovered from her makeshift toy getting taken away from her, but even now that she’s not in her dad’s arms being rowdy, he feels panicked.

He’s engulfed by god knows what when he responds to texts on his phone and sees countless notifications pop up, all of which that revolve around Nari, his girlfriend (put on pause as she suggested) and most importantly, Sunhee’s mom. The articles picture her around filming a drama on the other side of the globe across from where they are, a bright smile on her face that puts a ghost of it on his lips yet at the same time, make him slightly bitter.

Jungkook’s overwhelmed when he whips his head around and sees Sunhee being bounced up on Jin’s arm, clearly happy and in a fit of giggles, all while you stand beside the two of them.

It’s Jin, who loves Sunhee enough to carry and throw her up with his arm even if his wrist is sore and is equipped with a support band, but has given her up to you because for some odd reason, she’d be calm and even more happy when she’s laid in your arms.

Jungkook’s overwhelmed to see you in your casual wear with your earpiece in and Sunhee’s dribble towel slung on your shoulder, placed snugly on your hip where your radio isn’t situated.

He’s overwhelmed but maybe it’s a good type of overwhelmed to see his daughter in his personal bodyguard’s arms — his heart safe and steady to know that she’s protected by you.

If anything, if anyone needs to watch over Sunhee when he isn’t there for her, Jungkook would want you to be her guardian.

For one part, it’s because he knows you could literally shelter her and keep her safe no matter what. He could see it on how you carry her in the same way that you have put one hand on his elbow in walking him through crowds and one hand outstretched to ward away anyone that could get too close to him — it’s dedicated. It’s motivated in a way that their safety is your priority, perhaps maybe even if it isn’t merely your job.

Yet for the other half, it’s because Jungkook trusts you the most.

He trusts you the most when he looks at you with Sunhee in your arms, your other hand responding back to your radio as you entertain her in the same breath by letting her put her hands on the device.

You feel his eyes on you.

Jungkook finds himself chasing after you around the dressing room even if you sternly tell him to go back to his chair and memorize his lines instead, a desperate look on his face once Seokjin left him to talk to the director.

You want to leave the room and yet you know you can’t, instead choosing to take big steps to try and put the most distance between the two of you as much as possible.

His daughter is in her playpen right between the two of you because her dad has chosen to chase you around in circles until he gets you close enough; until there’s only a literal ball pit in between the two of you.

You’re familiar with how he looks when he’s desperate for something.

“Sunhee looks good with you.”

Jungkook doesn’t bother giving yourself a long-winded intro because the two of you have went through this pleading conversation too many times before, the outcome being the same each time.

Sunhee is an endearing baby, that much you’d admit. Bright, wide, and warm eyes just like her dad’s and a contagious laugh, the whole world already within her little fist. You know she’s loved beyond measure when her cries are equally as paining, rather than annoying, to anyone who comes across her.

“Don’t start with me.”

Your words leave you in utter seriousness but if he listens just a tad bit more closely, he’d know that it isn’t a threat — it’s a plead.

Jungkook should know your tone. He’s known it for years. Should know how you could lie through your teeth with precise skill or how you’re able to communicate what’s needed through gazes alone. Knows when he shouldn’t cross the line but he toes it anyways, always for this topic, taking his chances with you.

“You can start with her.”

Your lips purse as an automatic reaction to what Jungkook is going to ask of you again, making you exhale heavily in a way you barely even recognize nowadays.

He seems to have no problem giving you a quip almost instantaneously, the words tumbling out from his mouth as if they’re instinct and no just afterthoughts at this point.

Jungkook told you once, in confidence and in confinement where it’s only the two of you in an elevator and there’s a crowd right outside, that he’s a single dad.

A single dad for the meantime.

He’s been one for almost the entirety of eight months Sunhee’s been born but you don’t know if he realizes it. You don’t know if he knows that he’s been raising her Sunhee like one even before Nari up and told him that she’s going to leave for a little while, planning to make her comeback even if she’s not a year postpartum.

Come to think of it, she wouldn’t be labeled out of postpartum if no one knows anyways that the reason she’s been gone for more than a year is that she was pregnant — that she’s also long been dating Jungkook for three years now and that she’s given birth to her child; that she’s a mother.

No one would know about Sunhee because after all, she is merely a career break worth a year and some months, in Nari’s own words when she’s asked where she’s been in an interview.

You don’t know if Jungkook knows he was practically already a single dad even before Nari suggested a shift for the meantime and he just chokes it down each day.

Four months. Just four more months before Nari comes back to him, to them.

Just four months before Sunhee’s first birthday, four months before Nari comes back in time.

"I'm not supposed to raise her, Jungkook. I shouldn’t be the one.”

You grit throughout your teeth because the shame in your mind overpowers the dwindling endearment in your heart, the rationality sinking into your head even before your emotions starts to float.

“I’m not Sunhee’s mother.”

It’s merely a fact but Jungkook seems to recoil anyway as if you insulted him, chewing on his bottom lip while he looks down on his shoes.

“I know that,” he says gently, looking at you in the eyes before they set downwards to Sunhee who’s in the middle of you, oblivious to the gravity in your conversation that concerns her because her happiness in brightly-colored balls matters more.

Jungkook motions to his daughter, lips set in a straight line as he puts out his hand for her to give a high-five to, the sound ringing in your ears even if the clap was faint.

“But she doesn’t know that.”

Sunhee can look at you either as her mother or not but it wouldn’t matter because at the end of the day, it’s only the concept of one that he hounds for you to take.

“I will pay you triple than what Seokjin could ever pay you,” he’s not oblivious to the fact that Jin hired you solely for your skills and dedication to the job, your work being compensated more than generously. Jungkook also knows that his manager hired you for yourself, unaware at the time of your past relation to your then-job of protecting; him. “What would it take?”

Jungkook is not one to beg.

He’s hardworking, sure. He’s never had anyone pull him and recommend him for the roles and places he’s now a proud titleholder of. He worked from the ground up and made a name out of his own, not one thing behind handed to him.

Yet of all things, Jungkook wants to retain his pride. He wished to retain his pride even if he was merely a rookie and the word no to your director would cost you much more than saying otherwise. He retains his pride even if he used to get treated like dirt as extras in the background, bowing to producers when they make him clean up spills that he isn’t the cause of, but never gets a rag to appease them.

Jungkook loses his pride when it comes to you.

“I just need you to be a placeholder, Y/N. Please.”

You’re out of breath just for even thinking how he could be so selfish of asking such a thing from you out of all the people he could pitch the concept to.

There’s a line-up of girls you’d know that would want to be Sunhee’s placeholder for a mom, even if Jungkook doesn’t come with it in being their partner for the duration.

It’s not within your complete judgement to feel offended but you feel it on your bones anyway. Him asking you to be the personal bodyguard to his eight-month old daughter sounds much better, because after all, its a job.

Jungkook knows it. The two of you know it. There’s a clear difference between asking you to be Sunhee’s protector from being her mom, the first option being much easier if it’s what he asked of you.

The latter is much, much more different and difficult and Jungkook knows it, but he asks you anyway.

“I just need you to be a stand-in for her. Just for a while.”

You are not Nari, nor will you ever be her.

“She’ll come back to me, I know it,” he promises, tilting his head as he tries to get you to tone down your glare on him and hear him out more attentively. “But for now, I’m begging you to be Sunhee’s mother figure. She needs it.”

“I can’t be who I’m not.”

You’re not related to her at all.

You and Jungkook have history between the two of you and Sunhee doesn’t come from yours. She isn’t a part of your history because she’s from Jungkook’s present and future with someone who isn’t you.

Sunhee’s cute. Like her father and like her mother.

She doesn’t look like you nor does she resemble you in any way. When you look at her, you see her parents in her features. Her attitude is her own and yet you wouldn’t entirely know because you weren’t there when she was born, nor do you know of how Jungkook and Nari conversed about their childhood to try and foresee Sunhee’s.

Nari was born at 8 pounds and she foresees that their baby would be born on the heavier side, seeing to it that she started showing early into the pregnancy.

Jungkook gave his mother a hard time and would always kick inside her belly actively, apologizing to his girlfriend in advance because he has a feeling that their daughter would be just like him.

They were both crybabies, and instead of apologizing to each other for the hard loud times they foresee, they laugh it off.

Sunhee isn’t yours. She is of her mother’s and father’s blood and flesh. She’s neither your pain nor your relief. She’s a product of their love.

You are no one to her, as much as she is no one to you.

“You can be her mommy,” Jungkook pleads, bottom lip trembling as his state of overwhelm continues to bubble up, “you can be her mommy for the time-being.”

“Fuck off with that,” you mutter under your breath, jaw clenching in thought if he knows what he’s asking of you. If he knows how selfish he sounds even if what he’s asking of you concerns his daughter and not him solely.

You love Sunhee in the way an aunt would love her niece who she’s never met and resides on the other side of the world. You’re familiar with her and you know her to a degree, but you’re distant. She crosses your mind only when you walk past parents who has the same stroller as hers or when you see babies with the same pair of socks. The thought of her doesn’t come home with you.

“Who are you speaking to?” you scoff, poking your tongue on your cheek in curiosity and anger. “Me, your ex? Or is it me, your bodyguard?”

The two of you have moved on and never even talk about the past the two of you have shared. Your history is older than Jungkook’s relationship with Nari and their daughter and you find no need in bringing it up.

You’re with him because it’s your job, and he’s with you because he’s your responsibility.

Jungkook’s surprised and chokes on nothing when you raise him the question, eyes wide and unblinking before he silently confesses what the two of you know is the truth under his breath.

“Every version of you knows me.”

His tone is defeated even if desperate.

He’s asking in behalf of Sunhee’s sake, even if he sounds selfish by extension.

Jungkook asks you to be Sunhee’s mother for the meantime as your ex; as someone who you once loved the most in your life. He asks you as a friend, a neutral relationship that’s been built from being with him almost everyday. He asks you as his bodyguard, one who’s meant to protect him to no end even if it’s his wellbeing in question, one that revolved around Sunhee.

You merely smile in recollection but there are only two things that fill you up.

Pity, for Sunhee, because at eight months, her supposed mother figure would be you because her real one thinks of her as a mere variable and cause to have a career break.

And feelings, that are all too consuming because Jungkook knows you in this way still, even if he obliterates his pride for the sake of his daughter’s, at the expense of yours. He knows you in this light still; the part where he asks something from you in every version of himself, and he takes a chance for you to answer him in every version of yourself.

You half-heartedly laugh when Sunhee reaches out for you to carry her up, and you do, but you mean it with every fiber of yourself that your flaw is knowing Jungkook in these lights.

“I wish I didn’t.”

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koorosie

2 years ago

happy birthday namjoon!

leader, rapper, namjoooning, dimples. there’s so many ways to show who he is as a person.as an idol he’s down-to-earth, kind, and thoughtful.as kim namjoon, he’s a nature lover and can be shy.no matter what you are thinking about, he’s forever our boy who is an amazing person.i purple you!

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koorosie

3 years ago

spidey-spidey

sry for the repost my blog was hidden </3

“The itsy bitsy spider may have crawled up the water spout, but I have a broom to wipe your bitch-ass out.”

PAIRING(S) -> jungkook x fem!reader/aspiring author!reader + side yoonmin

GENRES(S) -> college au, neighbors au, friends to lovers au, humor, fluff, suggestive

SUMMARY -> Your neighbor slash crush Jeon Jungkook is exceptional at exterminating bugs from your apartment. And also at kissing you.

WORD COUNT -> 7.8k

WARNINGS -> profanity, lewd language, suggestive content (making out, heavy-ish(but not rly) petting), scientifically and anatomically incorrect depictions of spiders, creepy crawlies, yn is awkward as shit, and she makes bad jokes + puns, then again so does jungkook but he’s cute so we pretend we do not see

AUTHOR’S NOTE -> hello lovelies ♡ so i’ve been working on this oneshot since winter and i finally finally finished it (even tho it’s not that long i just procrastinated rip)!! lowkey inspired by a tik tok!!special thanks to the jk solo staning @chanluster for being the inspiration behind a specific line (you’ll figure it out). oh and also being the inspiration for the bugs you fucking vermin. finally, this fic also qualifies for #11 of @ficscafe ‘s dialogue prompt event!! i hope u enjoy (:

The spider has taken your apartment hostage.

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koorosie

3 years ago

re: untitled [ pt. 1 ]

pairing | jjk x reader genre | ceo!jk, arranged marriage word count | 5.4k

“Do you really have to leave?” Taehyung whispered against your skin, his lips pouting and caressing your bare shoulder. “It’s not like he’s waiting up for you.”

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