somehowukook - Tumblr blog

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

Irreconcilable Differences | JJK & KNJ (1/2)

Summary: You broke up with Jungkook almost a year ago, but have to see him again for the first time at a mutual friend's wedding. He's sharing a hotel room with his best friend, and just when you happen to step inside it, the hotel goes on lockdown, leaving you no choice but to stay with the two of them for the next twenty-four hours.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon

Genre: Exes to Lovers?, Threesome, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Crack (kinda?)

Word Count: 16.3k+

Warnings: crying, wedding, beach/ocean, drinking, thunderstorm, fighting, the subway, a breakup, mention of police, involuntary confinement, gas leak, hotel, ex-boyfriend, heartbreak. SMUT: threesome, kissing, penetrative sex, double penetration, anal sex, oral sex (both receiving), unprotected sex (references to bc), cream pie, cum eating, facial, titty sucking, hand job (m receiving), brief rim job, cum swallowing, face riding/fucking dick riding, spit roasting/eiffel tower, aftercare, neck kisses, choking, hair pulling, alrighty I think that's everything hehe.

Author's Note: say it with me now everyone: two bad bitches AT. THE. SAME. DAMN. TIME. guys I am so excited for this one omg! I hope y’all love this namkook filth as much as I do lol. it’s my first time writing a threesome and I wanted to do a good job for my two best boys!! this fic is like 60% smut and 40% plot 🥵 and also surprise! I decided to give them a part 2 bc I felt like I needed to tell more of this couple’s story, so that will be coming soon!! ilysm and enjoyyy :)

You claim it’s irreconcilable differences. Jungkook calls it you being unreasonable. You end things. Five beautiful years spent learning about one another, falling in love, and eventually finding an apartment to share, all for the castle to come crumbling down on one terrible, godforsaken, stormy evening.

Jungkook runs after you into the rain upon your theatrical exit from the apartment, because of course he does, and following a ten minute screaming match practically louder than the thunderstorm itself, he manages to drag you back inside. Like the weak woman you are, you assist him in stripping the drenched clothes from your bodies before letting him make love to you one last time on the very couch you chose together years prior.

By sunrise, you and your essentials are gone and a handwritten note is left on the coffee table stating you’ll come back for the rest of your belongings another time.

Strangers look at you sympathetically because of your loud weeping on the subway ride to your best friend’s place. You suppose it’s better than them judging you, given that you must look insane with the multiple haphazardly packed bags strewn across your body and evident hickies dusting your neck and shoulders.

Jungkook calls at least a hundred times, leaving voicemail after voicemail until your phone no longer allows him to leave any more. Before the clock strikes noon, you hear a jarring, repetitive banging on Yuna’s door followed by his agonized voice as begs to see you.

Per her instructions, you sequester yourself in her room and sob into her pillow while she pounds her fist right back and tells him to get lost before she calls the cops.

That’s the last time you heard his voice.

Until now, that is, because while standing at the reception desk of a Taiwanese hotel which will be your accommodation for the next four days, you hear the familiar, gentle timbre coming from behind you.

“Joon, please tell me you have your passport,” he sighs.

“It was one time, Kook,” Namjoon groans in response.

The phrase is so mundane and yet it completely paralyzes your mind and stops you dead in your tracks. You wish you could lie to yourself and say it isn’t him, but the illustrious nickname prevents you from doing so.

Thankfully, the receptionist finishes checking you in and you’re able to scurry away with your bags before he notices you. You don’t dare to peek over your shoulder and confirm the sighting because seeing him would be far more debilitating than merely hearing him.

The first anniversary of that horrific night is only a couple days away, but the passage of time isn’t as helpful as people say it is.

You should’ve expected him to be here since you know he’s friends with Hoseok, too. Why didn’t you consider the possibility before sending in your RSVP? Maybe you can still prevent a confrontation by leaving this very instant. You know Hoseok would understand given the circumstances.

But no, that’s not fair to you or your friend and realistically, you'll only be in the same location during the rehearsal dinner and wedding, so avoiding him elsewhere shouldn’t be too difficult.

Those become your famous last words, because when you exit your room to grab ice a couple hours later, you see Namjoon keying into their room no more than ten doors away. Yelping as you unceremoniously swan dive into a hidden cove, you hold you breath while waiting for his footsteps to retreat before peeling yourself off the wall and sprinting back to your room.

You naively thought you may never have to see him again, which was honestly your only hope because you know the second you do, you'll fold. It's undeniable that he's the one who got away and you know your self control is far too flimsy to resist him both physically and mentally.

There are no wedding festivities tonight, so you can take this time to prepare your head and heart for the inevitable battle which will take place once you come face to face with him. Although, any preparation you do will be useless because your head will simply command you to run as far away as humanly possible while your heart pleads with you to jump straight into his arms. There’s another area of your body which will beg for something else entirely, but you refuse to give it a dog in the fight.

Hoseok immediately foils those plans by posting on the wedding Facebook page about a welcome party down at the beach later tonight.

If you could look into the camera like you're a character on The Office, you would. Sighing in exasperation, you overdramatically flop on your bed and flail your limbs around like a petulant child.

Once you're done throwing a temper tantrum, you get ready in the spacious hotel bathroom while repeating encouraging mantras to yourself in the mirror, but you already know mere words won’t save you.

Your dress is definitely too skimpy to be seen by your ex-boyfriend, but there's no choice when everything else in your suitcase is reserved for the following days. It’s a thigh length, deep purple, satin slip that would honestly be perfect for any other occasion, but purple is Jungkook’s favorite color, and the last thing you want is for him to think you dressed up for his sake. In fact, you were almost desperate enough to drop a couple hundred bucks at the gift shop downstairs to avoid wearing it altogether.

As you descend the egregious amount of steps leading to the beach, you see Hoseok and his beautiful bride, Lia, standing at the bottom. Your friend smiles using his signature heart-shaped lips and enthusiastically waves with both hands while Lia does an adorable princess wave with her left hand.

“I’m so fucking happy you’re here!” He shouts before you even reach the final step.

Hoseok pulls you in for a crushing bear hug and you laugh while returning the embrace.

“Thanks for having me,” you say once he releases you.

Lia hugs you afterwards and you compliment her on how beautiful she looks in her white midi dress.

The pair met in college just like you and Jungkook, which makes the whole affair just slightly soul crushing for you. It doesn't take away from the happiness you feel for them, but it's hard not to compare their relationship flourishing with yours which crashed and burned.

“I could never get married without you,” Hoseok says.

“Or someone else, for that matter?”

Your friend frowns and a look of guilt sweeps over his features.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s alright, Hobi,” you tell him. “It was a long time ago now.” Lie. Big fat fucking lie. It still feels like yesterday. “I’ll let you guys greet your other guests.”

The bar is your first stop while you mingle with old college friends also in attendance. Unlike most weddings, the guests pool isn’t entirely made up of couples which eases your mind just a smidge. Even better, Jungkook is here with Namjoon rather than a real date, unless he and his best friend finally turned their bromance into something more.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, just as you’re tipping the bartender for your margarita, you turn to see two familiar silhouettes strolling down the steps side by side.

As if the universe itself is trying to spite you, Jungkook looks even more handsome than you when you last saw him, which shouldn't be possible when he was already a 10/10. He’s wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed right arm in all its glory and black slacks that grip his thick thighs for dear life with every step he takes. His hair is shorter and pushed away from his forehead, but the few pieces framing his face delicately curl down over his eyebrow. Even though his physique is outstanding, it’s the big brown eyes you adore that leave you breathless, although there’s a somberness to them which wasn’t present before.

You don't know whether you want to cry into your sugary drink or throw yourself in the nearby sea and let the current carry you far away from here.

To make matters worse, Namjoon looks equally amazing. He’s always been good looking, and you still remember being flabbergasted when you met him and realized both your boyfriend and his best friend are insanely attractive. His attire is similar to Jungkook’s, although he’s wearing a navy blazer over his blue dress shirt and matching slacks. He’s grown out his black hair to the point it falls into his eyes, but it only makes him look more allusive.

Every woman on the beach, single or not, is downright gawking at the two of them as they greet Hoseok and Lia with warm hugs and stand beside the couple to chat. It takes everything in you to avert your gaze before Jungkook can see you doing the same.

You thought it might take a couple hours for Jungkook to finally find you, but it’s less than ten minutes after his arrival that you hear his voice again.

“Jagiya?”

There’s no reason to turn around since that moniker no longer applies to you. Instead, you languidly sip your drink with your elbows resting on one of the high-tops facing the vast ocean.

“Babe.”

Rolling your eyes until they nearly get stuck in your skull, you glare at him over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

Seeing Jungkook up close is so much worse. There better be a defibrillator somewhere on this beach because you’re going to need one very soon.

“Well, that’s not my name, so I wasn’t sure.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes with a half-hearted scoff.

“I’ve never called you by your name.”

“Because you were my boyfriend,” you argue. “Which you no longer are, so my name should do just fine, thank you very much.”

He makes a second agitated noise before joining you at the table and mirroring your stance so your elbows touch. As if the skin on skin contact burns, you automatically jolt away from him, bringing a frown to his face as his eyes glisten with rejection.

“Can’t we at least catch up?”

“No.”

Your attempt to escape in the opposite direction is cut short when you barrel into Namjoon’s firm chest. He clutches your arm to keep you from falling and a brilliant smile appears as you lock eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” he cheerfully greets you.

“Hi, Joonie,” you sigh. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He looks at Jungkook before releasing your limb and slipping his hands into his pockets. “What about you?”

“Never better."

You make a break for it a millisecond later, running away as fast as the sand will allow to refill your drink and disappear from their sight, possibly even from earth. Fishing your phone from your purse, you find a secluded area and dial the number of your personal SOS.

The phone rings twice before Yuna’s voice comes through the receiver.

“Everything alright?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“He’s here."

“Who?”

“Googie!”

“Jungkook?” You fall backwards into the sand with a thump as you pull your knees to your chest. “Oh, honey.”

“He fucking called me jagiya like it was nothing. I mean, who does that?”

“Do you need me to hop on a flight? Or send a hitman?”

Her tone reveals she’s fifty percent trying to cheer you up and fifty percent serious.

“No. If anyone’s killing him, it’s gonna be me.” Staring up at the night sky, you imagine having similar encounters with him over the upcoming days. “I have to tell Hoseok I can’t stay. I won’t last four days here!”

“No, no,” Yuna chants. “He doesn’t get to win, okay? You’re there for your friend and you deserve to have a good time!”

“How am I supposed to have a good time like this?”

She sighs and clicks her tongue in defeat.

“I don’t know, but if I know that dumbass ex of yours, he’ll just come after you if you hop on a flight right now.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re right,” you groan.

“Listen, this is what you’re going to do,” she starts. “After the welcome party, go to his room and lay everything on the table. Tell him you’re not here to play catch up or rekindle anything and to leave you the hell alone for the rest of the weekend and you’ll do the same.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to go to his room?” You ask incredulously. “A secluded location with a bed? Something he has a stupidly amazing track record of getting me into!”

“You’re not going to sleep with him, you’re stronger than that,” she states.

“I think you vastly overestimate me, Yunes.”

“Is he there alone?”

“No, he’s here with Namjoon.”

“Well, there you go!” She cheers. “He’s not going to fuck you in front of Namjoon.”

“I think you vastly underestimate Jungkook.”

She leaves you with a few more words of encouragement, but you decide to forgo thinking about him altogether so you can actually enjoy the party.

The remainder of the evening is spent nursing margaritas and listening to Lia and her bridesmaids energetically discuss the wedding. By the time you leave the beach, Jungkook and Namjoon are long gone, but the notion only brings momentary relief. You know a conversation needs to happen, but you aren’t sure if you have the strength to confront Jungkook. Just being around him hurts like hell and you can only imagine how difficult being alone with him will be.

You mindlessly traverse the hotel while gathering courage and also partially sobering up. Speaking with Jungkook with alcohol still in your veins is maybe the worst idea of all. When you finally knock on their door, it takes less than a minute for Namjoon to greet you with evident surprise on his face.

He’s clearly gotten comfortable since leaving the beach, standing before you with his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the white t-shirt beneath and his belt undone but still strung through the loops of his slacks.

“Hey,” he says as if it’s a question.

“Is he here?”

“Who… Kook?” You nod instead of answering because your lip is caught between your teeth as you anxiously bite the skin raw. “Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

Namjoon calls for his friend before opening the door so you can see more of the hotel room. Jungkook comes stumbling out from the bathroom still zipping his pants up and when his eyes land on you, they joyfully light up.

“Baby?” His voice goes up an octave out of pure excitement. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t call me that,” you blankly state.

His expression falters with utter despair, but you can tell from his flush cheeks that he’s been drinking and is clearly overreacting due to the alcohol swimming in his veins.

“What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“I told you, Jungkook. My name!” You groan and tip your head back to refrain from throttling him. “Can I come in, please?”

He nods until getting dizzy from the repetitive motion and stumbles back a couple inches. Namjoon gestures with his arm and you thank him before crossing the threshold as he closes the door behind you. He excuses himself to the bathroom while you walk towards the center of the suite and pretend to admire the architecture.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook immediately regrets his word choice and starts shaking his head like a wet dog. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I want you here, I just didn’t think you did, so I’m surprised.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you concur. “But we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“What do you think?” Your tone is too harsh, but you can’t help the emotions crawling up your throat and choking the kindness from your voice. “I’m here to support my friend, same as you, and I would appreciate it if we could steer clear of each other for the weekend.”

“Are you serious?” Jungkook sounds stone cold sober when he replies. “I don’t see you for a year and you come here to tell me to fuck off?”

“Yes, Jungkook, because that’s what exes do,” you explain.

“Nah, fuck that, babe,” he snaps. “I don’t give a damn what other exes do.” There’s a poignant step taken in your direction, but you match his gate to hold the distance between you. Jungkook frowns, his brow creasing in discontent. “You really don’t want to see or talk to me? At all?”

“No! Why would I?” You exasperatedly ask. “Seeing you is fucking hard, Jungkook. Is it not hard for you?”

“No,” Jungkook replies without missing a beat. “Seeing you is as easy as breathing. Being away from you is what’s hard. It’s goddamn torture, jagi.”

“Stop calling me that, Jungkook!”

“Stop calling me Jungkook. You never fucking call me that!”

“Because we were dating! What do you expect me to call you?”

“Anything but my fucking name, please,” he begs as his voice strains with emotion. “It doesn’t even sound right coming out of your mouth.”

“Does asshole sound better?”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly while running his hand through the front of his hair. He opens his mouth to respond, but is stopped by a chime blaring overhead.

“Please excuse the disruption, loyal guests, but we have an urgent announcement to make. As of this moment, the entire hotel is on lockdown due to a gas leak on one of the lower floors. For the safety of all guests, your rooms will remain locked from the outside and key card access will be entirely revoked. Please stay where you are until we safely clear the gas and allow you to roam the hotel freely again. We estimate it will take no longer than twenty four hours. Thank you and please call the front desk with any questions or concerns.”

As soon as the message ends with another annoying chime, the room goes eerily silent and your blood runs cold. Namjoon exits the bathroom with wide, worrisome eyes, matching the expression on both your faces.

“No. No, no, no,” you shout while running towards the exit. “No, this isn’t happening!”

You violently yank on the doorknob even though it doesn’t budge an inch, grunting with effort as if that will somehow help. A tattooed hand gently removes your fingers from the handle to stop your incessant attempts.

“Stop, jagiya, it isn’t going to work,” Jungkook calmly says.

It's unfair how much comfort his touch alone brings, but you ignore the feeling to helplessly pound your fist on the wood despite already knowing it’s useless.

“It’ll be okay, I’m sure it won’t actually take them that long,” Namjoon comments.

“Another second in here is one too long, Joonie.”

You hear Jungkook tsk in annoyance.

“So, he gets Joonie and I’m still just Jungkook, huh?”

Your dread quickly becomes unadulterated anger as you turn on your heel to face him.

“How many fucking times —”

“Hey, cut it out!” Namjoon interrupts by standing between you. “If we’re really stuck here you two need to stop acting like fucking children.”

“Me?”

“I’m not —”

“Yes, you fucking are,” Namjoon argues, his voice stern. “Y/N, there’s a pull out bed beneath the couch and I can give you some extra clothes to change into.”

“She’s not wearing your clothes, Joon.”

Jungkook’s gaze is undeniably intense when he makes eye contact with his friend.

“Well, I’m sure as hell not wearing yours,” you retort.

Namjoon sighs in defeat and runs his hands down his face.

“This is what I mean!”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you avoid their eyes and sulk towards the couch on the opposite side of the room. If Namjoon thinks you’re behaving like a child, then you just won’t speak anymore. Simple. Great minds must think alike because Jungkook stomps over to the bed and sits with an overdramatic huff. Namjoon rolls his eyes, but ignores your shared antics by surveying the mini fridge. He’s clearly choosing the sensible route given that it’s your only source of food until the hotel reopens.

The first hour of imprisonment happens in stark silence, besides the sound of Namjoon moseying about as he passes you both a water bottle before taking a seat in the armchair beside the bed. You all absentmindedly scroll on your phones and pretend you aren’t suffocating from the thick tension permeating the space.

You immediately text Yuna about the situation, anxiously awaiting her reply with your thumbnail between your teeth as you parse through your many thoughts. When she does respond, her text contains an immeasurable amount of expletives and various emojis. She leaves you with a single instruction at the end of her message: “do not fucking sleep with him, Y/N!”

It’s easier said than done.

Namjoon is the first to slice through the awkward silence via an obviously fake cough. You and Jungkook both look at him expectantly and he responds with a dashing smile while leaning forward in his chair.

“Y/N, you said you came here to talk, so I think you guys should do just that,” he kindly suggests. “I can chill in the bathroom for a while, if you want.”

A sweet smile frames your face as you shake your head.

“That’s alright, Joonie. I don’t have anything to talk about with him,” you respond.

“You don’t? After a whole year you don’t have any questions or things you want to get off your chest?”

“Jungkook made it very clear when we broke up that he doesn’t want to marry me. That’s the only answer I need.”

Jungkook scoffs in response, cracking his neck as though it could release all his pent-up frustration.

“That’s not true,” he states.

“No? Did I misunderstand something that night?”

“Yes. I never said I don’t want to marry you. I said I wasn’t ready, there’s a big difference."

Now it’s your turn to scoff with an accompanying eye roll.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s that much of a difference when after five fucking years together you still aren’t ready. Sounds like just a cowardly excuse to me,” you retort.

“Cowardly? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes, actually —”

“Hold on, that's not what I meant by talk,” Namjoon interrupts.

“What do you expect, Joon?” Jungkook asks angrily. “She’s unreasonable!”

“Don’t you dare call me that again,” you sneer, the night in question appearing like a vision in your mind.

Jungkook’s eyes completely soften when he realizes his mistake, not ever wanting to hurt you despite the predicament you find yourselves in.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you end any and all conversation by strutting across the carpet and barricading yourself in the bathroom. Once you’re alone, you quietly whimper and slide down the frosted glass until your butt meets the cold tile.

This will just be your solution for the remaining hours; to stay locked away from the piercing gaze of your ex and the well intentioned efforts of his best friend. You simply lack the wherewithal to look at his handsome face or listen to his calming voice any longer. The cold persona you’ve been maintaining all night is cracking with every word and you refuse to let him see how utterly broken you are underneath.

Although, it's no use once you start sobbing into your hands because of all the overwhelming emotions. You’re certain he hears your brutal cries even as you muffle the sound in your palms, eventually crying yourself to sleep on the bathroom floor.

A loud banging on the glass door startles you awake.

“Y/N,” Namjoon calls for you.

“Use the sink,” you groan while sitting up.

“I’m not knocking for that.” There’s a heavy sigh from outside. “Can I come in?”

A weighted moment passes as your mind deciphers possible reasons not to let him inside, but when there aren’t any obvious choices, you twist the doorknob while scooting away so he can enter.

When he does, he effortlessly slips in and turns the lock before sitting across from you and pulling his knees to his chest.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you murmur.

“I’m not trying to play matchmaker, I hope you know that. It’s just that we’re stuck here for possibly twenty more hours, and I don’t think you’re very comfortable lying on the bathroom floor in a cocktail dress,” he explains.

You nod in agreement as a small grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, my ass is killing me.”

Namjoon laughs, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks as the lighthearted sound fills the air.

“He fell asleep, too, but maybe you can go bug him and actually sort some shit out?” There's hope present in his brown eyes. “Just because getting back together isn’t on the table, doesn’t mean you can’t at least be on good terms. You two have a lot of mutual friends so this definitely isn’t going to be the last time you see each other.”

“He makes it pretty hard, Joonie,” you argue.

“I know he does. It’s only because he…” Namjoon sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s only because he’s still so in love with you.”

You appreciate him saying it out loud even though it's painfully obvious that's the case.

“I know,” you quietly admit. “I don’t know if it’s even possible for either of us to ever stop loving the other one.”

Namjoon reaches out to rest his hand on your knee, empathetically running his thumb across the fabric of your dress. He doesn't seem surprised by your inferred confession, which you suppose makes sense given how observant he is.

“If there is that much love still between you, that’s all the more reason to mend things as best you can.”

He leaves you alone again so you can decide for yourself what your next move will be.

It takes you a couple hours to come to the proper conclusion and return to the suite so you can speak with your ex-boyfriend. When you do, you find him and Namjoon haphazardly sprawled across the mattress still half-dressed in their evening wear.

Jungkook's facial features are serene as quiet snores pass through his lips. This must be the millionth time you’ve witnessed him in this state, but your heart still flutters all the same. You resist the urge to wake him as you once did, by combing his hair back and pressing featherlight kisses to his face. Instead, you nudge his leg where it’s hanging off the mattress and wait for his eyes to blink open.

“Jagiya?” He groggily asks. “Is everything alright, my love?”

Oh, he must still be half asleep. It’s one thing to throw a pet name around, but the infamous epithet exclusively used for you is a step too far.

“Wake up, Jungkook,” you order him.

“I am.”

You ignore the possibility of him purposefully calling you that so you can focus on your mission.

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook sits up and methodically runs his hands through his hair a couple times before patting the space beside him.

Following his wordless request, you occupy the spot to his right, albeit a bit farther away from where his hand hit the mattress. When he notices the sizeable distance, his disappointment sets a crease in his brow.

“You wanna talk like we did earlier or the way we used to?”

His question makes you replay your various conversations from today in your head.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch tonight. I’m just trying to… protect myself,” you explain.

Jungkook shakes his head.

“You’re not being a bitch,” he assures you. “I’m sorry, too. I promise I’m not trying to make this any harder on you, I just missed you so fucking much, jagi.”

It's too dangerous to repeat the phrase back to him, despite it being true, so you ignore the comment altogether.

“I know that we need to have a conversation, but I’m not sure where to even start. It feels like we’re beating a dead horse at this point,” you admit.

“I’m not exactly sure, either, but I’ll answer any questions you have or re-explain whatever you need me to.”

There's been one single question occupying your mind for the last year, but you never expected being able to ask it.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you, Jungkook?”

His doe eyes widen and his hands naturally move to caress your face so he can comfort you, assure you of how wrong you are, but he seemingly changes his mind and lets them fall.

“Not enough for me?” He shakes his head in complete disbelief at the idea. “Oh, baby, me not proposing has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We spent half a decade together, if you’re not ready for marriage after that then it’s obviously me,” you argue.

“No, it isn’t,” he states. “Growing up, I watched my parents go from lovesick to arch enemies in a matter of years. So, in my mind, marriage can make even the most perfect couple hate each other. Which means it could do that to us, too.”

“We’re not your parents, Jungkook.”

His parent’s broken relationship has always deeply affected him and it’s something you tried helping him heal from during your time together.

“I know, but from my perspective getting married could easily turn us into them. I thought staying boyfriend and girlfriend would make losing you impossible, but it did the exact opposite.”

“I told you that,” you groan. “The night we broke up, I said you only have one option to keep me with you, and sure, there’s always a risk of things going south, but if you didn’t propose it would happen a helluva lot sooner than if marriage tears us apart.” Without thinking of the consequences, your hands encompass his. “Jungkook, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

His hands squeeze yours as if he’s double checking that you’re real.

“I know that now,” he whispers.

“What… what do you mean?”

“I was wrong, jagiya. That night, letting my parents' relationship dictate our own, I made the biggest mistake of my life,” he tells you. “If I could turn back time, I would get down on one knee right there in our living room.”

You feel a familiar pressure from tears collecting in your waterline. It would be wonderful to reverse the hands of time and prevent your breakup from ever happening, but it’s impossible, and no amount of time travel can fix your broken heart.

Jungkook tries brushing the stray tears away once they finally fall, but you turn your head when his fingertips graze your cheekbone.

“Please tell me how to fix this, baby,” he begs.

“You can’t –”

“I don’t mean us. Well, I do, but I know you don’t want that.” He couldn’t be more wrong. “So how do we leave here as friends, at least.”

Being friends is a terrible decision given how much your heart still absolutely belongs to him, but you also can’t resist having him in your life. So, you extend your hand across the space between you.

“Friends?”

Jungkook smiles affectionately and shakes your outstretched hand.

“That was easy,” he comments.

The tension in the room gradually dissipates as you chuckle and drop his hand.

Although, your truce allows for a different, more potent aura to surround you instead. It seems pretending to despise each other was your only protection from the inherent desire you feel, because in the otherwise silent room, the crackling heat between you is palpable.

The first time you ever laid eyes on each other, Jungkook promptly shoved you into a dive bar bathroom and fucked you against the sink. In fact, you’re positive the two of you have never been near a fuckable surface without partaking in the act. If Namjoon lying smack dab in the middle of the bed, you’d probably already be rolling around in the sheets together.

Namjoon wakes up with a confused grunt before either of you can make such a mistake. He examines the unfamiliar surroundings while cracking his neck and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, lovebirds,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Joon.”

“Ew.”

Jungkook chuckles at your expense and you retaliate by playfully shoving his shoulder. Per his usual antics, he grunts while falling backwards, his upper body hitting the mattress with a soft thump. The melodramatic action makes you giggle without realizing, and you can see Jungkook smiling from his position on the bed.

Namjoon notices the positive shift in atmospheric pressure and smiles to himself as he stands to stretch his long limbs.

“So, what are we using this ample amount of time together to do?” He asks while grabbing a snack from the kitchen.

It’s a logical question given the circumstances, since there isn't much in the room to keep you entertained besides the TV, and who knows what selection of shows and movies the hotel offers.

While you contemplate an answer, Jungkook sits up and gestures for Namjoon to toss him a treat, which he catches with ease once his best friend complies. Rather than opening the package, he hands it to you before repeating the motion for himself. You avert your eyes so he doesn’t see the pink blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well, what’s your year been like, Joonie?”

Namjoon smiles at your question even as he’s chewing the granola bar he just took a bite of. He answers after swallowing his food.

“It’s been good, I got promoted to head curator at the museum,” he announces.

“No way, that’s amazing!” You cheer. “I’ll have to swing by sometime.”

“You should, we’ve got some amazing new pieces from this French historian I found,” he explains.

“Any women in your life?”

You pop some trail mix into your mouth.

“Nah, I’m shit outta luck in that department.” He briefly glances at Jungkook before continuing. “How about you?”

“Nope. No luck with the ladies for me, either.”

Jungkook giggles beside you.

“Seriously, though, how have you been?” Namjoon asks.

You wish you could answer truthfully, but despite the recent agreement between you and Jungkook, you still want to hold your real feelings close to your chest. For instance, you don’t want him to know the feeling of someone else’s lips makes your stomach twist in disgust. Something you’re only aware of because you attempted to kiss a stranger at the bar some months ago. The encounter only lasted approximately three seconds before you stopped the man’s advances and spent the remainder of the night sobbing in the bathroom.

“I’ve been good, too,” you say, keeping it simple. “What about you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you point your attention to him.

“Oh, fine, I guess,” he answers solemnly. “No promotions or… you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement and finish the rest of your trail mix to avoid answering any further questions.

“So, that took up approximately five minutes of the next nineteen hours,” Namjoon states matter-of-factly.

“Hm, let’s play kid games like never have I ever or some shit,” Jungkook excitedly suggests.

“Kook,” Namjoon laughs. “Be for real.”

“Hyung, we have hours to kill here.” Jungkook points to you. “Tiebreaker vote.”

“Uh.” Your head tilts as your mind contemplates the possible consequences. “I mean, why the hell not? It’s not like I don’t know everything about you anyway, Jungkook.”

“You don't know what I got up to in the last year,” he retorts.

“Fine, but we need drinks,” Namjoon says as he hands out beers before taking a seat on the nearby couch. “I’ll go first?” You and Jungkook both nod and the older man giggles when he decides on his first prompt. “Never have I ever slept with someone in this room.”

Twin indignant glares are sent his way as you and Jungkook sip your drinks.

“That’s fucked up,” Jungkook comments.

“Your turn, Y/N.”

Similar to Namjoon, you look between the two boys and chuckle to yourself.

“Never have I ever had a penis.” Jungkook stares you down while Namjoon merely shakes his head and sips his beer. “Your turn.” You tap Jungkook’s chest with the bottle.

“Hmm, never have I ever not been named Jungkook.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’re a bozo.”

You and Namjoon drink simultaneously.

“Alright, no more fucking around, we die like men,” Namjoon states while placing his elbows on his knees. “Never have I ever had sex in a public place.” There’s an incredibly awkward silence before you and Jungkook slowly bring the bottles to your lips. “No shit? I didn’t think I’d actually get you guys with that one.”

“Multiple times, in fact,” Jungkook says after drinking.

“In very public places,” you add.

“Freaks,” Namjoon jokes.

“Okay, never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you say.

Only Namjoon drinks and it scratches an itch in your brain knowing Jungkook hasn't completed one of your bucket list items without you.

“There’s an ocean right outside, ya know,” Jungkook comments with a smirk. You respond by elbowing his ribs. “Ow, understood.” He thinks for a minute before a more sinister smile appears. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

No one drinks, which only causes Jungkook’s expression to morph into one of satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, did you only ask because you want to know if I’ve had one since we broke up?”

“Yes,” Jungkook shamelessly admits. “You’ve always wanted one and it’s the only opportunity I’ll have to ask.”

“You wanna try a threesome, Y/N?” Namjoon asks with an eyebrow quirked.

“Mmhm, but my boyfriend was always too jealous to indulge me,” you state while side-eyeing Jungkook.

Your ex scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Why don’t you tell Namjoon why I said no, babe.” You suddenly look like a deer in headlights. “That’s what I thought.”

“Wait, wait." Namjoon scoots to the edge of his chair. “Spill.”

“Oh, no,” you reply.

“C’mon, jagi, tell him,” Jungkook goads. A threatening glance is sent his way, but he ignores your agitation and menacingly tilts his head as if to taunt you. All hope is lost when he turns to face his best friend. “She wanted us to have a threesome with you.”

Namjoon chokes on air.

“Huh?”

“Oh yeah, she begged me on multiple occasions.”

“Jungkook!”

His poor friend’s face is glowing with a bright red blush as he processes the confession.

“What… why me?”

“I mean, it’s not everyday your handsome and buff boyfriend has an equally handsome and buff best friend,” you explain. “What’s a girl to do?”

“It’s not everyday you’re stuck in a hotel room with them, either,” Jungkook notes while calmly drinking his beer.

You and Namjoon whip your heads in his direction with equally large eyes. Jungkook merely chuckles at the joint reaction and leans back on his hands like he didn’t just plant a ticking time bomb in the center of the room.

“Sorry, are you —”

“Suggesting we all sleep together?” He turns to you with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, jagiya, I am.”

“But why now when you always said no before?”

“Because as you made it very clear earlier this evening, I’m no longer your boyfriend. I have no problem sharing what isn’t mine to begin with,” he explains.

Something about his statement shatters your heart in a way you refuse to admit.

Namjoon clears his throat to garner everyone’s attention.

“Uh, is this something we’re genuinely considering? Because I’m totally down.”

“Babe?”

Jungkook has nothing but hope brimming in his eyes while you maim your lower lip with your teeth. There are multiple contrasting emotions battling in your head, but the overall winner is excitement as the feeling flows through your veins and becomes your answer.

“As long as you stop calling me that.” There’s a brief pause before you remember to cover all your bases. “In either language, Jungkook.”

The man in question’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead as a charming smile grows.

“Deal.”

Your heart skips a couple beats when he shuts his eyes and leans in with pursed lips. As if it’s second nature, Jungkook’s hand rises to hold the back of your head, but you keep him in place with a gentle touch to his chest.

“Give me a minute.”

The mattress bounces when you stand to run away into the safety of the bathroom again. Oxygen fills your lungs for the first time in minutes upon entering the secluded space. Moving towards the counter, your hands grip the marble as you turn the faucet and splash cold water on your face.

Your best friend appears like an apparition in your mind, reminding you of your sworn duty not to sleep with your ex-boyfriend. Technically, you're only half sleeping with him, since someone else will be there. Yeah, you’re certain Yuna will accept that bullshit explanation without biting your head off.

She’ll just have to forgive you, because you’ve imagined this threesome countless times over the years and nothing is going to prevent it from becoming a reality now. Sure, you never pictured it happening because you got trapped in hotel with your gorgeous ex and his equally attractive best friend, but here you are.

After spending some time calming your racing heartbeat, you stare yourself down in the mirror and share an affirming glance with your reflection before exiting.

When you do, Jungkook is standing just beyond the door with desire in his dark irises. Namjoon isn’t far away, sitting on the corner of the bed with his legs spread while he intently watches the two of you.

“You ready?” Jungkook asks in a low tone.

Heaven help you.

“Do your worst.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste a single second and slams his lips on yours while his large hands encapsulate your head. The sudden movement causes an involuntary moan, his warm lips already turning your mind to mush as you clutch his shirt to keep your knees from giving out.

Heaven can’t help you now, because the feeling of Jungkook kissing you again is far above its paygrade.

His mouth coaxes yours open and you grant him unlimited access without another thought, allowing him to slip his tongue inside so it can tangle with your own. The familiar motions transport you to a world where your breakup never occured and Namjoon isn’t a couple feet away. It honestly feels as though you’re the only two people in existence when he molds his mouth to yours and grips your hair between his fingers like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispers against your lips.

He gives you a final peck before kissing across the lower half of your face and down your neck. You indiscriminately moan as his soft, wet lips repeatedly meet the most sensitive areas of your skin. Your hand rakes through his styled hair when he licks across your jugular and takes a delicate bite. He gives your collarbone, sternum, stomach, and abdomen chaste kisses while rapidly descending to his knees. The sight of his lustful eyes peering up at you from the vulnerable position makes your core clench.

Your eyes are silently pleading him to touch you and it brings a devilish smirk to Jungkook’s face. His hands sneak beneath the hem of your dress to touch your bare skin while kissing the fabric resting on your thighs. When you whine for more, he pacifies you by bunching the dress up to reveal the lace underwear covering your cunt. He groans in satisfaction and starts kissing your mound through the material, causing you to hold onto his black strands for dear life.

“Jungkook, please,” you breathlessly beg.

“Use your words,” he orders while making out with your panties.

Jungkook’s always demanded you spell your wants and needs out for him in bed, so you should’ve expected his response.

“Need your mouth on me,” you pant.

He hums affirmatively and tugs your underwear to the floor before languidly licking your pussy from bottom to top. A combination between a broken gasp and pleasurable cry comes from you in response. The sensation of his tongue moving through your folds is earth shattering even if you’ve experienced it a million times and the feeling must be mutual because Jungkook is enthusiastically moaning into your cunt while lapping up the leaking essence from your hole with precise flicks of his tongue.

“Goddamn, you taste so fucking good,” he grunts before diving back in.

His fingers hold you in place by the meat of your thighs as he eats you out like you’re his final meal on earth. Jungkook’s always been an expert at eating pussy, and his innate skill is only highlighted by the fact that you haven’t been touched by another human in a year. Between his hands gripping your flesh and his mouth slurping your juices, your mental fortitude doesn’t stand a chance.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your pussy for a torturous amount of time before finally granting you solace and moving upwards to pleasure your clit. When you jump from the sensation of him kitten licking you, he growls and his fingertips bite into your supple thighs.

“Don’t fucking move.” He flattens his tongue on your pearl and moves his face side to side to create friction. Your head falls against the glass as you helplessly moan. “You have no fucking idea how much I missed this pussy.”

The deep timbre of his voice sends vibrations through you as he maintains the mind blowing tempo. He halts the efforts of his tongue to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll deep into your skull. In the same breath, he purposely allows drool to drip from his lips onto your pussy, as if you aren’t gushing cum already. The extra wetness creates a seamless glide of his mouth on your skin and you can barely keep your body upright from how amazing it feels.

“Goo — Jungkook,” you whine.

He ignores your call of his name, although you think he caught the near slip up because his low chuckle tickles your wet skin and sends shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, Joon, you gotta taste her.” He moves away from your cunt and you automatically whimper, your hand clutching his hair to keep him close. “Best pussy in the entire fucking world.”

When you glance at the man in question after taking multiple deep breaths, you notice him sporting a cheshire grin while his dragon eyes dangerously call to you.

“Is that so?” Namjoon tilts his head as he holds the seductive eye contact. “May I?”

The only action you can muster is a weak nod, your head barely holding itself up from how high up in the clouds you are.

Jungkook catches your attention by placing a final kiss to your clit before rising and tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear.

“Be good,” he instructs.

There’s an urge within you to fight back and tell him it’s no longer his place to command anything from you, but the lustful haze veiling your consciousness prevents you from speaking altogether.

Before you realize, you’re nose to nose with Namjoon and the miniscule distance between you makes your heart stop.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with you, Y/N,” he taunts.

He drops to his knees the very next moment, firmly gripping one of your thighs as he maneuvers it to rest on his shoulder.

It’s been more than six years since anyone beside Jungkook touched you, and although you want this, the feeling of someone else holding you inadvertently causes a negative reaction. Your hands begin to shake and your eyes snap shut as unease washes over you and settles in your stomach.

Jungkook must notice the energy shift, because you feel his lips caressing your shoulder as he gently kisses your skin.

“It’s alright,” he whispers between smooches. “Just enjoy it, beautiful.”

Namjoon’s plush lips are kissing and sucking on your inner thighs as his face ascends towards your center. It’s easier said than done, but you eventually acclimate to the foreign touch and manage to calm your body and mind.

When his mouth reaches your cunt, he tastes you for the first time with a tentative, featherlight lick, but after slowly swiping his wet muscle through your folds a couple times, he amorously hums while gripping your thighs tighter. He forces your pussy down onto his face and you yelp, a desperate hand grasping his spare shoulder for support.

“Fuck, Joonie” you whine.

The younger man is still painting your neck with sloppy kisses as Namjoon does the same to your cunt.

His mouth feels completely different in comparison to Jungkook, but still just as pleasurable. While your ex eats you out as if he simply can’t get enough, Namjoon seems to be savoring every single bite.

Despite the delicate pressure of his tongue gliding along your slit, you feel pure greed behind his actions. He’s holding you firmly in place while bobbing his head to lick every inch of your cunt and his wanton noises sound like he just wants more, more, and more. Then his tongue pushes into your hole and licks long your inner walls as his buttery lips absolutely devour you and the feeling is jaw dropping.

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” he comments under his breath. Namjoon looks up to ensure you’re watching his tongue take a single, long lick of your pussy before curling your juices into his mouth. “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You pathetically moan over his praises.

“Make her come, Joon,” Jungkook says. “She looks so pretty when she finishes.”

Namjoon hears your ex loud and clear, keeping his eyes on you when he switches gears and starts mouthing at your clit.

Gone is the gentle giant as he religiously flicks his tongue over your nerve endings before teasing you by moving the muscle in slow circles instead. He seems to enjoy your response to his actions, an airy chuckle meeting your core where his lips have begun sucking on your nub. Of course your eyes are rolling as you pant and sink your fingertips into his shoulder muscles, he’s pleasuring your most sensitive spot as if he’s done it countless times.

He reclaims your pussy to drink the weeping essence collecting there, but his nose nuzzles your clit so you’re still being stimulated in both areas. The perfect combination makes your mind blank and your senses malfunction until all they recognize are him.

You don’t just fall over the edge, you’re forcefully pushed off the precipice by his extraordinary movements.

“Oh, holy shit,” you cry.

The gorgeous man on his knees for you groans in delight as you come on his face, swallowing every ounce of cum you give him. If he wasn’t still balancing your leg on his shoulder, the convulsing your body does in reaction to the climax would send you toppling.

Jungkook ardently watches you as the high simmers, observing your every twitch and noise with heat in his eyes. Meanwhile, Namjoon is still slurping away beneath you like he could continue for hours without complaint.

You shove at his shoulder when the oversensitivity becomes too great, needing to focus on your trembling breaths so your body can return to baseline.

“How was that?” Namjoon asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips.

“What a stupid fucking question.”

Both men laugh as Namjoon stands and Jungkook sits on the bed.

“So, who are you sucking off first, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s lopsided smirk is too attractive for his own good, and you know it’s only present because he found a clever loophole to your sole condition for this entanglement.

“Well, since you let Namjoon do your dirty work, I think you should finish what you started while I thank him for doing such a wonderful job,” you explain. “Whaddaya think?”

He doesn’t respond other than by pulling you into his lap by your thighs while simultaneously lying back so you’re straddling him.

“Hop on your favorite seat, then.”

Your eyebrows lift for a silent confirmation of his request and he winks as an answer. The anticipation of having him again creates childlike giddiness within you as you maneuver yourself above his head. At the same time, Namjoon strolls to the opposite side and pulls his belt through the loops to remove it. Once his slacks are kicked into a pile on the carpet, he stands directly in front of you where you’re kneeling over Jungkook’s face.

“You know, Kook’s bragged about your mouth on multiple occasions, so your reputation precedes you,” Namjoon states.

“Oh, I assure you, I’ll exceed your expectations, Joonie,” you confidently reply.

Before you can continue the conversation, Jungkook is tugging your thighs down until your bare pussy is smothering his mouth. You moan as your head falls back upon feeling his searing hot tongue on you again. He parrots the noise into your folds, accompanied by the erotic sound of him repeatedly bringing your cum into his mouth.

When your attention returns to Namjoon as Jungkook continues his diligence on your cunt, you see his eyes reverently staring at the scene while he palms his covered cock. You reach for him, dipping your fingers beneath the fabric resting on his hips to pull him closer. He stumbles forward with a deep laugh and aides you in pushing the garment down his thick thighs to reveal his cock.

To state it plainly, the man is well fucking endowed. He’s slightly longer than Jungkook, although if memory serves correctly, not as thick as him. Comparisons aside, his dick is genuinely mouth watering and all of your emotions are instantly superseded by the innate desire to taste him.

“Like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you say with a slow nod.

His cock is achingly hard and twitches in his hand as he strokes himself without breaking eye contact with you. Your tongue slowly traces your lips as you imagine how he’ll taste, the bead of precum forming on his head practically calling your name. Seeing him in all his glory is the perfect reminder of why you begged Jungkook for this so many times. There’s no doubt you’re about to have the time of your life being sandwiched between them all night.

Your warm hand replaces his own as you begin languidly stroking him and running your thumb across his slit to gather the precum and work it down his shaft. He groans as his head lulls, giving you the sexiest view of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You’re so big,” you tell him aimlessly.

He doesn’t respond, clearly too preoccupied with relishing the feeling of your small hand wrapping around his thick cock.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is still fervently licking your pussy like rent is due tomorrow. His hands remain on your hips after creeping upwards from your thighs and he uses the leverage to move your cunt back and forth across his face, causing his big nose to catch on your clit and effectively nullify your senses.

Despite the debilitating pleasure you're receiving, you focus on the man before you and bend over to lick his cockhead, making Namjoon instinctively clutch your hair. You dutifully swipe your tongue across his velvet skin to get acquired with his masculine taste. When you tease him by circling the sensitive ridge of his head with just the tip of your tongue before flattening the muscle once you reach his tip, Namjoon forcefully groans.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses under his breath.

His reaction encourages you to finally take him between your wet lips, suckling on his head as your hand continues working him in smooth strokes.

“You’re so sexy, Joonie,” you mewl after leaving the pretty tip of his cock covered in drool.

“Keep putting your mouth on me then,” he chuckles.

Namjoon’s always been peaceful and practical, but you can hear the sharp edge in his tone born from your teasing.

Following his orders, you fully wrap your lips around him and bob your head with your tongue out to soak the remaining length of his cock. Your hand falls away and joins your other on the mattress to keep yourself steady. You swallow his dick inch by inch as you bring him deeper into your mouth with each glide. Your actions turn him noisy above you, endlessly whining and groaning as his fingers tug on the hair caught between them.

Jungkook’s just as loud as he lazily drinks your essence and moans into your cunt. He’s going slower than normal so he can prolong your pleasure while you take care of his friend, but the andante rhythm of his mouth doesn’t make his movements any less punishing. His tongue is constantly alternating between long sweeps of your pussy from bottom to top and tauntingly circling your clit.

“Holy fuck,” Namjoon breathes. “So fucking good, baby.”

His nonsensical praises are totally understandable, since you’re using all the tricks in the book to energetically suck him off. Your tongue makes loops around his cock every time you move your head closer to his pubic bone. When you pull back, you press the muscle firmly along the underside of his shaft and flick it against his tip before doing it all over again. It takes a decent amount of time to fully sheath him in your throat due to his size, but once your nose is buried in his pubic hair, you hold the position so he can savor the feeling. He certainly seems appreciative, given that he practically growls like a wild animal and yanks on your hair.

The next time you descend and his tip sinks deep into your throat, you swallow so he can feel the way your muscles constrict around his dick. That nearly makes him lose his marbles, his nails harshly scratching at your scalp as you blow his mind along with his cock.

“Mother of God, Y/N.”

A giggle escapes as you take a momentary reprieve and flatten your tongue on his head, lapping up the precum pooling over his slit.

“Told you,” Jungkook proudly states from beneath you. “She got you close yet, Joon?”

His voice is partially muffled by your thighs around his head, but his friend still hears the question.

“Fuck yes, about to blow any second,” Namjoon breathlessly replies.

It’s quite obvious he’s telling the truth by the way his cock deliciously throbs inside your mouth. Upon hearing his answer, you suction your lips around him and vigorously bob your head to finish him off. Your fingers even join the fray to fondle his heavy sack that’s full of all the cum you’re about to swallow.

Jungkook kicks his own motions into high gear so you two come simultaneously, forcing your cunt down on his mouth and spitting into your folds so he can wreak havoc on your hole.

His unexpected ministrations make you yelp and Namjoon gasps in response to the vibrations around his cock. You continuously moan as you work upon realizing the effect on him, and within seconds his balls tighten in your hand and you sink down completely so his cum shoots straight down your throat.

“Oh shit,” he grunts.

Tasting his warm seed before it pants your esophagus white is downright sinful, but feels oh so good. It’s been far too long since you’ve had the pleasure of breaking a man off and letting him empty his balls in your mouth.

The movements of your mouth never cease while swallowing every drop he provides, allowing your tongue to collect the essence that spreads along his shaft. Although you’re focusing on Namjoon, Jungkook is dangerously close to bringing you an orgasm by rapidly fucking his tongue into your pussy.

When you do come, your sharp cries force Namjoon’s cock from your mouth as your body shakes with the unbelievable strength of your second orgasm.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Namjoon’s hand is still in your hair and he attentively combs through the strands as pleasurable tears prick your eyes. Jungkook is groaning underneath you as he eats the cum spilling from your pussy and soaking his face. He doesn’t stop tormenting your sensitive folds until you finally roll off him and collapse on the bed.

All three of you are erratically panting from the intense pleasure and effort.

You clock the massive tent in Jungkook’s slacks and immediately feel the urge to satiate him before you’ve even caught your breath.

“Jungkook, strip.” He subconsciously nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt to remove it from his torso. His slacks and boxers come off in one go, revealing the familiar sight of his gorgeous cock to you. It takes every ounce of your strength to resist moaning out loud. “Namjoon, have you ever been to Paris?”

Your other companion is still delirious from his overwhelming climax and your doe-eyed, curious expression doesn’t aid him in the slightest, but he shakes his head as an answer nonetheless.

Upon seeing his response, you maneuver to all fours with your ass facing him and your head towards Jungkook. Your ex is standing beside the bed and watching you like a hawk as you get into position.

“You sure about this, doesn’t your jaw hurt?” Jungkook questions.

“C’mon, Jungkook, you know how much I love the pain,” you respond.

His only reaction is an irritatingly sexy, smug grin as he comes to stand right in front of you, his hard cock standing at attention only an inch away from your awaiting lips.

“I get to fuck you?” Namjoon asks from behind you.

His hands are traversing your waist, hips, and thighs and when he flips your dress up to reveal your bare ass and soaking pussy, he hums delightfully.

“Of course you do,” you respond, seductively looking over your shoulder at him. “You better do it right, Joonie, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

He clicks his tongue.

“You don’t need to worry about that, baby.”

Returning your attention to Jungkook, your eyes travel from his v-line up his sculpted torso, but before they reach his face, an unfamiliar artwork catches your attention.

“Did you… did you get a new tattoo?”

Jungkook glances towards his right shoulder where the new, colorful ink is etched into his skin. The shoulder piece partially covers his old tattoo and stretches across his collarbone. You can’t help but gawk at the pretty art on his honey skin, honestly shocked that he finally added to his sleeve.

“You like it?”

He looks far too cocky about your reaction for your taste, but you do in fact like it. You’ve told him many times just how hot a tattoo in that location would look, and it seems he took your advice long after you were gone.

“Ye — yeah,” you answer.

The confident expression only grows when you unfortunately fail at responding like a normal human, far too distracted by the ink to think properly.

Rather than teasing you as usual, Jungkook gently pets your hair before resting his hand on your jaw. He uses the controlling grip to pull your face closer to his cock and you automatically push your tongue out to lick the precum off the tip. Jungkook smiles at your instinctual reaction, as if pleasuring him is something written in your DNA.

“Why don’t you show me just how much you like it?”

His tone is dripping with desire to the point his voice shakes, his eagerness to have your lips around him evident in his phrasing.

You obediently press your tongue to his skin again, this time leisurely dragging the muscle along his head. The hand on your jaw rescinds to your hair and pulls the strands away from your face so he can see you kitten licking his cock.

“Good girl,” he praises, his eyes never once leaving your face.

Meanwhile, Namjoon begins running his dick through your folds, lubricating himself with your cum so he can slide into your pussy with ease.

“Go on, Joon,” Jungkook instructs. “Let’s fuck her dumb on both ends, shall we?”

When Namjoon pushes in without another word, the feeling of his tip pressing into your hole makes you keen and desperately grip the sheets beneath your fingers.

“Would you like that, baby?” Namjoon asks to patronize you. “Do you want us to stretch your holes with our big cocks?’

When you only nod in response, Jungkook tugs on your hair in retaliation.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please, ruin me.”

Namjoon enters you one inch at a time so you feel every ridge and curve as he descends into your pussy. You’re still licking Jungkook’s head and shaft, sufficiently coating his cock in saliva before taking him between your lips, but it’s nearly impossible to focus on the man in front when the one behind you is using his dick to spear you. An enthusiastic moan breaches the air once he’s fully inside you, and the men share a demeaning laugh at your current predicament.

It’s honestly nasty how much you crave the feeling of them stuffing you.

As soon as Namjoon pulls back for the first time, you suck Jungkook’s cock into your mouth. They both pornagraphically moan because of the pleasure your cunt and mouth simultaneously provide them.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Namjoon grits through his teeth.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook whines.

Namjoon takes control via a fierce grasp on your hips, giving him the ideal leverage to thrust into you. Similarly, Jungkook clutches your hair like reins between his fingers in preparation for you deepthroating his cock.

The initial stroke into your pussy sends you forward until you’re swallowing about half of Jungkook’s cock, forcing an erotic gasp from him. Namjoon’s movements create the perfect bobbing motion for your head, making this eiffel tower position somewhat easier than merely sucking dick. The strength of his thrusts allows you to take more of Jungkook into your mouth with each one, so your only job becomes keeping your tongue out and tightening your lips around him, occasionally moaning, gagging, or swallowing when he tickles your throat.

“She’s a fucking dream, isn’t she?” Jungkook says with strained vocal chords.

“That’s a fucking understatement,” Namjoon instantly replies.

The feeling of Namjoon fucking you is obviously foreign, but earth shattering nonetheless. He magically knows the perfect angle for his cock to consistently hit your g-spot, driving himself deep inside you while maintaining a steady pace to prevent from hindering your work. The push and pull of his hips creates mind blowing friction and stimulation as the thick veins running along his shaft rub against your inner walls.

He’s certainly fulfilling his promise as he effortlessly rearranges your guts, his dick reaching parts of you long forgotten prior to this.

You’re clearly excelling, too, because Jungkook is incoherently cursing and panting like a dog above you. Namjoon’s diligence from behind means your sole focus can remain on the actions of your mouth, lips, and tongue. Despite your familiarity with sucking Jungkook’s cock, there’s still an adjustment period due to his size, but once his tip meets your esophagus, you purposely gag around him, allowing your drool to coat his skin.

Jungkook’s got quite the ego, which you’ve always found unbelievably sexy, and seeing your lips stretched to the limit while you willingly choke on his cock is hands down his favorite sight in the world.

“Fuck, no one sucks my cock like you do,” he claims. “God fucking damn.”

Although he’s complimenting you, his statement makes your eyebrows pinch together. You’re unsure if he means it rhetorically or if he’s actually comparing your skills to someone else, namely someone he may have been with in the last year. The thought makes your heart sink into your stomach, but you shove the anguish away so you can continue focusing on this moment.

“God, your pussy is fucking insane, baby,” Namjoon states.

You’d thank him if it wasn’t for the large cock in your mouth.

Alas, you’re slightly preoccupied with being penetrated on both ends like a pig on a spit, not that you mind, since the incredible sensation is driving you hog wild, anyway.

Namjoon’s length fills you up entirely and your pussy reacts by tightening around him everytime he pistons into you. Meanwhile, Jungkook is positively abusing your throat, the saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth dripping down his balls and turning them shiny. If you could lift a hand without falling over, you’d massage them so he’ll spill his seed faster.

Although, that ends up being unnecessary, because Jungkook nearly chokes when you suction your lips around him while he’s stuffed in your mouth.

“Can I paint your face, beautiful?” He desperately asks.

Nodding as you peer up with siren eyes, you maneuver your tongue in circles around his shaft to send him reeling.

Jungkook removes himself from your warmth and fists his cock until spurts of hot cum begin shooting from his tip. You open your mouth wide and close your eyes, giving him full control over the picture of sin he’s going to draw on your face with his semen. His cum mostly lands in your mouth, which you joyfully swallow, while the rest covers your cheeks and chin in a creamy, white liquid.

“Ah fuck, that’s right. Take it all, gorgeous,” Jungkook gasps.

After he firmly squeezes the head of his cock to ensure he’s given you every last drop, he bends over to kiss you, holding your face with both hands as his cum smears across his own face.

Namjoon doesn’t stop his deep strokes into your cunt, causing you and Jungkook to moan into one another’s mouths as his actions force your faces closer to the beat of his dick entering you.

“Jungkook,” you whisper once he pulls away.

“So good… always so good for me.”

He licks a glob of warm seed from your cheek, giving you multiple chaste kisses afterwards as his friend begins to slow his assault on your pussy. You whine when Namjoon’s cock leaves you empty, but he placates you by spanking your ass and then massaging over the reddened skin.

“You could’ve come in me, Joonie,” you tell him.

Jungkook continues kissing and licking your skin to wash away the remnants of his pleasure.

“Shit, no I couldn’t. I wanted to, believe me, but I’m still empty from you sucking my fucking soul outta me earlier.” You chuckle proudly at the same time Jungkook stands to his full height. “Kook, why don’t you fuck her while I watch? Let me ramp back up.”

“That alright with you or do you need a break?” Jungkook asks as he tucks your sweaty hair behind your ear.

“Have I ever needed a break, Jungkook?”

Your reply makes him smirk in satisfaction.

“C’mere, then,” he whispers while leaning down to kiss you again, sending you both tumbling backwards as he hovers above you.

His hands rake across your thighs until they catch your dress so he can pull it over your head, forcing your lips apart for a mere second before they collide again. With you now naked beneath him, Jungkook touches you everywhere he possibly can, letting his fingers map your outline as if he doesn’t already have you memorized ten times over.

“No bra?”

He eagerly kisses across your jaw and down your neck, one hand stopping the excursion to hold your head still so he can suck on your sensitive skin before licking over the mark he leaves.

“You know me,” you breathe.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers into your skin and then takes a possessive bite with his canines.

In one smooth motion, you wrap your thighs around his hips and flip him so you can rest your bare cunt over his length. He makes a surprised noise at the momentary act of dominance, an adorable laugh coming from his lungs as he affectionately holds your hips. Sharp nails scraping his toned pecs, you admire the vision of him beneath you and absentmindedly trace his new tattoo with your pointer finger.

“You wanna ride me, beautiful?” He asks with a squeeze of his digits into your sides. When you nod, he smiles graciously and leans up to kiss your collarbones. “Say it.”

“I wanna ride you, Jungkook.” Your nails create thin, red marks in his skin so you can hear him moan. “I need to feel your big cock filling me up.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

Jungkook brings you to your knees while your hand slithers between your bodies to stroke him until he’s fully erect and twitching in your palm. When you sit on his thighs and he penetrates you again after what feels like an eternity, your head falls back in irrevocable ecstasy. He takes on a similar pose, his head pressing into the pillows surrounding him as his fingers leave brutal indents on your hips.

“Oh, God,” you whimper.

The recognizable sensation is otherworldly and every nerve ending in your body seems to come alive at the feeling of Jungkook coming home. His dick is white-hot and pulsing within you and it’s impossible for your senses to comprehend anything but him and his cock. You’re not certain you even want to move from this position, perhaps you’ll just remain still and cockwarm him while appreciating everything you lost.

Jungkook clearly has other ideas, because he uses his leverage to start bouncing you up and down, letting everything but his tip leave your walls before forcing his entire cock into you again at the perfect pace.

“Shit, you feel s’fucking good,” he tells you.

You only manage a broken whine in response because his engorged head is consistently kissing your g-spot while your clit grinds against his pelvis.

Namjoon is staring at the erotic scene from the chair beside the bed, obviously mesmerized by your tits bouncing in time with your hips. You momentarily catch his eye, winking at him as he licks his lips and slowly strokes himself, but your attention is stolen when Jungkook pulls you down for a breathtaking kiss.

Twin moans tangle in the air around your faces as Jungkook seamlessly slips his tongue into your mouth and you grab his face so you can continue messily devouring each other without restraint.

“I imagined this so many fucking times,” Jungkook confesses.

In an act of complete betrayal to your consciousness, you reply without missing a beat.

“Me, too.”

He forces your lips apart to fill your mouth with his tongue, allowing the muscle to sloppily explore and dance with your own. His teeth sink into your swollen lower lip and you whimper, causing Jungkook to possessively swallow the noise as he returns to kissing you.

Meanwhile, you steal control and force Jungkook into the backseat, fucking yourself on his big cock and riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Jungkook growls in response and his hands crawl up your spine until he’s able to grasp your hair between his fingers. As you speed up and force your thighs down harder, his dick expands your hole and creates harsh friction along your gummy walls. Each time your pubic bones meet, the fullness he provides steals your breath away. Although you’re honestly too busy kissing him to bring oxygen into your lungs, anyway.

When you finally do inhale, purely for your own survival, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to greedily kiss across your tits, coating your flesh in his shiny saliva.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles into your skin before taking a nipple into his mouth.

His teeth scratch the pebbled skin to make you whimper before flicking his tongue a couple times, giving the same treatment to your other boob, only with his fingers. He suckles the nub with a satisfied groan while you attempt to maintain your rhythm, which isn’t easy when your brain is short circuiting.

“Jun – Jungkook, holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” you nonsensically praise him.

You feel the vibrations from his happy chuckle against your other breast now that he’s switched sides to smear more spit on you.

The energetic cadence is making your legs go numb, but you can’t imagine stopping even with the ache in your thighs. This moment is far too heavenly, and you’ll willingly lose all feeling in your limbs before letting it go. Thankfully, Jungkook can tell by your faltering hips that you need assistance, so he plants his feet and fucks up into your cunt like a madman.

“Oh, my God!” You screech.

Holding onto his chest in desperation, you involuntarily give him full control because there’s no way you can match his monstrous pace. He’s sending his cock so deep inside you that you worry about the survival of your guts. He fills you up and fucks you so good it feels like you’re choking on him despite his length being far from your throat.

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he begs. “Please, I’ve been dreaming about feeling you squeeze my cock again.”

“I’m so close.”

Jungkook uses your confirmation as fuel to shift into overdrive on your already battered pussy, utilizing all his energy to bring you the most euphoric high. Your third orgasm of the night takes the fucking cake, a shrill scream coming from you as you soak his dick with cum. He animalistically growls at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him like a vice, the pulsing of your walls sending his eyes into his skull.

You collapse on his chest, panting and whining as the aftershocks course through you. He slows the thrusting of his hips, but doesn’t stop completely so he can still gently fuck you through the high.

“Feel good?”

All you can do is nod against his sweaty skin, far too deep into subspace to verbally reply.

“Want you to come, too,” you whisper while looking up at him.

He smiles down at you and plays with your hair where it rests on his collarbone.

“I will, beautiful, just not yet,” he softly replies.

The two of you separate your sticky bodies and turn to Namjoon, who looks supremely satisfied with your passionate display.

Once your eyes are on him, he removes his shirt to join his pants on the floor, revealing his chiseled torso. It’s borderline unfair that these two absolute specimens wound up as best friends. Although, you suppose that’s true for everyone other than you, since you’re currently reaping the benefits of their friendship.

“What’s next?” He questions while standing and moving towards the bed.

“I believe that’s up to the lady.”

“Well, I have two holes for a reason,” you respond automatically.

The sensual gleam in their eyes when they smirk at each other lights a fire in your belly.

“Who do you want where?” Jungkook asks.

You stand to examine the large mattress while pondering his question, looking between the two men as you imagine the different possibilities. Without another word, you grab Namjoon by the arm and guide him to lay on his back in the center of the bed. Jungkook stands without being told, curiously watching you complete the mental puzzle. You catch his gaze over your shoulder with a smirk of your own when you come to your final conclusion.

“I’ll ride Joonie while you fuck my ass,” you nonchalantly answer like it isn’t the filthiest thing to ever leave your mouth.

You and Jungkook have had anal sex a couple dozen times over the years, so it seems reasonable for him to take that position rather than introduce someone new to your tight hole.

Namjoon laughs cheerfully from his place on the bed, tucking his hands behind his head with a content smile.

“That sounds fucking perfect to me.” He nods towards Jungkook. “You good with that?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue while tilting his head.

“What was it you said earlier?” He points to you. “What a stupid fucking question?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the sarcastic response, but they share a laugh, anyway.

The air is still with heavy anticipation before the three of you begin maneuvering into the right positions. Jungkook steadies you by holding your waist as you straddle Namjoon’s hips, following closely behind and planting his knees on either side of his friend’s thighs. His hand massages your shoulders and spine as you spit on Namjoon’s cock and stroke him into the perfect seat for you. The older man groans when he feels your hand working him again, but the sound becomes a gasp as you slowly sink down and bring his thick length into your pussy.

“Ah, shit,” he curses.

His hands find your hips as his eyes focus on the spot where your bodies connect.

“That feel good, Joonie?”

You bat your eyelashes at him in total faux innocence.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got no fucking clue. You’re so fucking wet and tight that you could drive a man crazy with this cunt,” he answers.

“She has,” Jungkook notes.

A deep blush paints across your chest, neck, and cheeks at their compliments.

When your hips instinctively rise, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder in protest.

“Don’t move yet,” he instructs behind you.

He bends your upper body towards Namjoon with a hand between your shoulder blades, giving him access to your asshole. You hear him spit before his wet thumb meets your rim as he works your puckered hole open. The feeling of him playing with you while Namjoon’s cock throbs inside your pussy is catastrophic, and Jungkook only furthers your torment by opening his palm in front of your mouth.

“Spit.”

When you immediately comply, his chest rumbles with laughter against your back before you hear the sound of him lubricating his cock with your saliva. After he fucks his fist a couple times, his soaked tip replaces his digit and gently nudges your hole.

“I’m alright,” you assure him when he doesn’t push in.

There’s a tender kiss placed on your shoulder as Jungkook moves his hips forward and you feel the unmistakable stretch of him entering your ass. The penetration feels significantly tighter than times prior, partially because it’s been a while, but mostly because your pussy is already full from Namjoon. Their dicks are buried inside your holes with only a thin wall of muscles between them, creating an immense pressure in your core that is inexplicably greater than any sensation you’ve felt in the past.

You feel outrageously stuffed by the two large cocks and there’s been no movement yet, so you can only imagine how tantalizing it will feel when they tandemly fuck you open.

“Goddamn.” Jungkook’s forehead meets your shoulder as he takes deep breaths. If the feeling is this tight for you, it must be unbelievable for them. “This is fucking incredible.”

“You’re telling me,” Namjoon replies from beneath you.

Jungkook’s sweaty chest is pressing on your back while you’re leaning over Namjoon and vehemently gripping his pecs. In fact, you’re in the perfect position for him to have ideal access to your breasts as they swing just above his chin.

“Everyone ready?” Namjoon nods assuredly as you maintain eye contact with him. You check with Jungkook over your shoulder and he gives you the same response. “Well, please don’t break me, I guess.”

The mischievous laughter surrounding you leads you to believe they will not be heeding said warning.

“On three?” Jungkook asks.

“One… two… three,” Namjoon counts as your nervous system drowns in anticipation.

They move seamlessly and simultaneously; Namjoon lifts your hips while Jungkook rears away from your ass, leaving only the head of their cocks inside you before they push in together. You scream so loud you worry the entire floor will hear, and Jungkook must agree because his hand clasps over your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling noise.

Hot tears of pleasure are already rolling down your cheeks as they harmoniously leave you empty only to return again at a devilish pace. The two of them have impeccable teamwork, their cocks nearly working as one to fuck you stupid. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced before, the double penetration sending your entire being into an abyss of ecstasy.

Jungkook’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you against him as he watches your asshole stretch around his length. Namjoon continues moving your hips for you to bring him deep inside your pussy with each bounce. It seems your sole responsibility is to merely take the sensual abuse of your holes while screaming and crying into Jungkook’s palm.

“Jesus, this feels fucking phenominal,” Namjoon moans.

Jungkook doesn’t verbally concur, but you feel him nod in agreement behind you. His grunts of pleasure are happening right against your ear and the sound is pure, sinful music to your ears.

You think your muted screams do a sufficient job at capturing the sensation of their cocks pistoning into you together, but if you attempt to use words, the only comparison would be drowning and burning at the same time. Jungkook’s presence in your ass lights your entire system ablaze, each pulse sending ripple upon ripple of fire through you. While Namjoon continuously hitting your cervix with his cock brings tsunami size waves crashing over you. Their bodies feel like two halves of a whole, the jaw dropping motions complimenting each other as though they were meant to be experienced as one.

Namjoon begins kissing your breasts and even relinquishes his hold on your hips to play with the fatty flesh, bringing stimulation to every erogenous zone at once.

“Joon, can you feel me the way I can feel you?”

“Mmhm.”

His reply is quiet due to his face being stuffed between your tits.

“Fuck, I’m losing my mind,” Jungkook notes.

You certainly understand the sentiment. It feels as though their cocks are right up against each other inside you, so you imagine the sensation is mutual even though they’re in separate spaces. Their minds seem to sync up as well, because they amp up their speed and force at the same moment, causing you to accidentally bite down on Jungkook’s hand due to the sheer intensity of the change.

He hisses in response, his hand venturing down to wrap around your throat instead. His fingers apply light pressure to the sides of your neck and he eventually starts kissing the skin just above his hand. The gentle affection of his lips in comparison to his dick splitting you apart makes your head spin. You reach back to hold his head in place, lacing your fingers into his soft hair and pulling on the strands until he groans into your skin, meaning the hand still resting on Namjoon is the only thing keeping you upright.

Namjoon is kissing and sucking on your boobs while Jungkook continues caressing your neck with his mouth. Couple that with the large hand choking you and the two cocks inside you and you’re heading straight for the milky way.

“You two… oh… holy fuck…”

It would be inconceivable to produce a full sentence at the moment, and the weak, stuttering curses you manage are practically incoherent.

Jungkook laughs into your skin, leaving you with a final peck.

“Yeah? It feels that good, beautiful?”

You have no clue how he can speak clearly when all his energy is being utilized by his hips ramming into your ass.

“Yes,” you meekly answer.

His lips come to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as his tongue licks along your earlobe.

“This tight little hole is still mine, isn’t it? Your pussy, too. Bet no one’s touched you like I have,” he whispers. A mindless nod is all you grant him, but his grip around your throat tightens when you don’t answer him. “I want you to tell me yourself.”

“No one,” you gasp. The hand in his hair returns to Namjoon’s chest so you can steady yourself. “I haven’t let anyone touch me since you, Jungkook.”

A satisfied growl vibrates against your ear.

“More.”

“My pussy, my ass, my whole body is yours,” you state, despite your best interest. “It has always been.”

“And always will be?”

At the same time he speaks, he demonically thrusts into your ass and you cry out as your head falls to his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, yes, always!”

“There’s my girl,” he affirms with a sharp bite to your cartilage.

Namjoon is still tweaking your nipples either with his hands or mouth, alternating every couple minutes to give them equal attention. He laps at them with his moist tongue before going in slow circles and scraping his teeth over the skin, effectively making your nipples oversensitive, which only heightens the pleasure you feel as he plays with them. His mouth is comfortingly warm and you adore the feeling of him licking across your tits as he fucks you.

The twitching cocks you feel in both your pussy and ass is evidence enough that the two men are close to finishing, their heavy balls slapping against your skin in time with their thrusts providing further proof. Your own climax is peering just around the corner and you start fucking yourself on their shafts at the same cadance as them to bring your end closer.

All three of your voices fill the space with nonsensical moans as your orgasms race towards the finish line together.

“Can I come inside you, baby?” Namjoon asks.

His dick feels so perfect within your cunt that you can’t imagine telling him no and not allowing him to paint your insides white.

“Please,” you answer.

You want Jungkook to blow his load inside you, too, hoping he’ll fill your ass up so much it drips out and soaks your thighs in his seed.

“Shit, you ready to make a fucking mess of her, Joon?” Jungkook asks across staccato grunts.

“Never been more ready in my goddamn life.”

Jungkook reaches around to play with your clit after Namjoon’s confirmation so you all come at once and it only takes another minute of your bodies working in tandem for the three of you to reach an unexplainable high together.

“Jesus, fuck –” Namjoon chokes.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jungkook gasps.

It’s astonishing to think you could feel any more full, but once the seed spills from their cocks into your respective holes, you truly believe they’ll rip you apart right down the middle.

Namjoon is fucking his cum into your pussy with deep, deliberate strokes and sending his semen so far into your womb you feel thankful for birth control. Similarly, Jungkook continues forcing his hot seed into your ass even once it begins leaking out and drenching his dick.

“Oh, oh fuck,” you whine as your own orgasm makes your cunt pulse around them.

It’s easily the messiest thing you’ve ever experienced, with the fusion of all three essences endlessly spilling out and pooling in your conjoined laps.

“Damn,” Jungkook curses while falling limp against your back.

You’re all breathless by the time their movements cease. Your body is keeping their softening cocks warm during the come down and you wonder what being empty will feel like after being stretched so wide.

“Fucking insane,” Namjoon comments, making you and Jungkook chuckle weakly.

Jungkook is the first to move and even though he carefully pulls out, more of his cum drips from your ass and soils the sheets. Once he’s free from the dogpile, you gradually move to a kneeling position before flopping onto the mattress beside Namjoon while Jungkook occupies his opposite side.

“I gotta thank whoever leaked gas in this fucking hotel,” Jungkook states.

“I’ll be right there with you,” Namjoon adds.

You're positive you would laugh at their comments if you weren't the most tired you've ever been in your life.

“C’mon, let’s get you into something comfortable,” Jungkook announces.

After four orgasms and both your holes being jackhammered open, you don’t know if anything but a nice, warm bath will bring you comfort. Although, Jungkook bringing a large shirt over your head and pulling your hair out from where it’s trapped beneath the hem is definitely close.

“Thank you,” you murmur as your head falls forward until it meets his abdomen.

His fingers gently comb through your hair and your eyes shut with a content hum, the familiar, soothing motions nearly putting you to sleep. You feel the bed dip when Namjoon stands and the sudden movement makes you pull back and survey your surroundings.

“Are you okay?”

You meet his concerned gaze and nod.

“I’m fine, Jungkook, just still coming back to earth,” you explain.

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

You don't reject his assistance even though you absolutely should. Instead, you lay back again and appreciate the feeling of Jungkook delicately cleaning up between your legs and down your thighs.

There's movement going on behind your eyelids, and you figure it's because Namjoon is setting up the pull out bed, which you hear him lay down on with a groan afterwards.

“As long as you’re okay with it, we can share the bed,” Jungkook offers.

You’re too tired to worry about the implications of sleeping in the same bed together. So, you nod and reach your arms up, letting him pull you up bridal style so he can tuck you in before joining you a fair amount away, which you appreciate given the circumstances.

Sleep welcomes you into her embrace before you even have the chance to overthink anything.

Their voices pull you from slumber some hours later and your eyes struggle to open as light shines in through the large windows.

If the original prediction of twenty four hours is still correct, you must have at least another twelve to go based on the sun’s position in the sky.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Namjoon says when he notices you’re awake.

“Hi,” you croak. All your screaming and moaning from the night prior clearly took a toll on you. “How are you guys doing?”

“Us?” Jungkook laughs.

You involuntarily smile at the sound of his happiness.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk, to be honest,” you respond.

To prove your point, you attempt to stand and the ache between your legs nearly sends you toppling backwards into the mattress. Both men giggle at your baby deer stance and you shoot them a menacing glare.

“Need help?” Jungkook asks with a sly grin.

It would be far too embarrassing to accept, so you just take small, measured steps to the bathroom to freshen up. Jungkook lets you borrow a pair of sweatpants and the three of you eat from the mini fridge as a pseudo breakfast before chatting about current events and pop culture as the hours steadily tick by.

As it turns out, the lockdown does end early, with the total time being about eighteen hours. It leaves you with plenty of time to get ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight, which Hoseok confirms is still happening via a Facebook post.

Jungkook offers to walk you back and even though your room is only ten doors down, you say yes without much deliberation. He also refuses to accept his clothes and orders you only return them once they've been washed, his obvious attempt at ensuring you see each other again after the wedding.

You thank Namjoon for his services and he reciprocates the gratitude before you and Jungkook leave side by side. The short walk happens in comfortable silence and when your hands accidentally brush, you don’t question Jungkook’s actions as he catches your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

Once you reach the hotel room, you drop his hand and turn to say goodbye, but Jungkook beats you to the punch.

“Are you gonna save a dance for me tomorrow?” He asks with a saccharine grin.

The eye roll is instantaneous.

“I’ll think about it,” you respond.

Before you’re able to key inside, Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you with enough force to push you into the wooden door. Your surprised screech turns into a soft moan as you allow his tongue to dance with yours in your mouth. Your hands subconsciously rise to hold his jaw as you shamelessly makeout in the hallway, neither of you caring about the possibility of other guests seeing you.

Jungkook is chasing your mouth like he could do it forever and you have zero complaints, feeling nothing but content as your lips move in lackadaisical circles together. His thumbs caress your cheekbones as you kiss and with your eyes closed, you can almost imagine you’re back home in your shared apartment.

When your mind finally catches up to reality, you pull back and push at his shoulder to create some space between your heads.

“What was that?”

Your ex's looks the happiest you've seen him all weekend.

“Just wanted to give you something to think about,” he replies.

Your eyes roll again, but this time there’s affection for the man before you written all over your face. You tap your keycard to open the door and slip inside without another word, but turn around at the last minute with a smile.

“See you later, Googie.”

“Bye,” Jungkook waves.

It’s only once the lock clicks that Jungkook realizes what you called him, and as soon as he does, he pumps his fist in a silent victory cheer. He starts laughing to himself like a total maniac outside your door and he even does a heel-click jump out of pure excitement while walking back to his room.

You don’t witness any of his celebrations, but the sentiment is shared between you nonetheless.

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @joonlover1207 @goldenko-97

Part 2, titled Harmonious Agreement, coming soon...

548 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

Plus One, Minus Feelings - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: The classic let's pretend to be a couple for just a while. Nothing bad will happen, right?

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, fake dating, jealous! Jungkook, goofball! Jungkook, reader is into another person for the first half (spoiler: Yoongi)

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

Word count: 7.4k

a/n: this Jungkook has the personality of someone I know, so it's really easy to imagine him in this scenario lol

It was Saturday night at Jin’s house. A casual get-together routine in your friend group. His apartment condo being the biggest one out of everyone, it was natural that his place became the go-to base camp.

You were on your third yapping session with Jihyo, with your feet crossed sitting on the floor, and your hands moving expressively. The girl was listening to your rambles, looking at you while sitting on the sofa and sipping her smoothie. You were about to enter your fourth story when you heard Jin calling your name from across the room. The man walked towards where you and Jihyo were, with another guy beside him, Jungkook.

“You’re single, right?” The guy asked out of the blue.

“Me?” You pointed to yourself, while still sitting on the floor.

“Who else? Jihyo has a boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes sassily.

You folded your arms. “You came here just to mock me?!”

“See! She’s single.” He told Jungkook with a sly smile.

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Are you seriously trying to…”

“No, geez.” Jin chuckled. “Just ask her.” He said to the other guy.

“Can you help me out? I need a plus one on a wedding.” Jungkook suddenly said.

“Who’s getting married? And why me though???”

“My brother.”

“Oh, yeah hell no. I’m not going.” You quickly said.

“Wha— Why??? I haven’t even told you the whole reason!” He said, lips trying so hard not to form a pout.

“I don’t wanna get interviewed by your family, duh??? I’ll be fine if it’s just Jin’s wedding or something.”

“Yeah, we’re not gonna see that any time soon though…” Jihyo giggled.

Jungkook ignored Jin’s loud protests and continued. “I made a bet with my brother and he said he’ll buy me the new Switch if I somehow bring someone to his wedding.”

“I still don’t want to get interrogated by your parents, Kook.” You sighed.

“Don’t worry! I’ll tell them. It’s just to fool my brother and all.” He nodded eagerly, hoping you’d buy his reasoning. “Please? I’ll even let you try the switch first.”

“That’s not a good offer?!” You said in a high pitched voice.

“I’ll get you one of those cute blind boxes…?” Jungkook offered in an unsure tone.

“Yeah, um… I like those but no.”

“I’ll throw in a dozen of Krispy Kreme.”

“Deal.”

“That’s what gets you???” Jihyo laughed.

“I was on Jungkook’s side, but yeah, what the hell?!” Jin joined.

You shrugged. “I love donuts.”

“Thank you so much!!!” Jungkook bent down on your level on the floor and side hugged you playfully.

“When is this wedding anyway?” You cringed and pushed him to the side.

“Two weeks from now.”

You sighed, regretting your decision already. “Awesome.”

“Uh, what are you doing here?”

6PM on a Thursday night. The night air was chilly, but not too cold. You just stepped out from your office building, ready to head home, when you noticed Jungkook waiting outside. He was smoking, one hand holding his bud and the other was tucked inside the pocket of his extremely baggy pants.

He immediately squeezed the unfinished cigarette on the trash can next to him as soon as you were on sight. He clapped his hands to together, cleaning the debris, and straightened his posture. With a pleading look, he flashed you a grin.

“Please come to my family dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” You looked at him, processing. “What do you mean by tonight?!”

“It will convince my brother!”

“This wasn’t in any part of our deal…” You said in a warning tone.

“I know! I’m so sorry, but I accidentally told him early that I’m bringing someone…”

“Not exactly my problem now, is it?” You sighed and folded your arms. “Attending his wedding is one thing. We wouldn’t even get that many chances to talk with him. But a dinner??? I’ll die.”

“Please? Please???” He clasped his hands together, begging with big eyes.

You sighed. “No.”

“Uh, please?” He closed one eye and the other peeking at you. A nervous smile on his lips.

“You really didn’t think this through, huh?” His expression almost made you crack.

“No, I didn’t.” He slumped down. “Pretty please? With another dozen of Krispy Kreme on top and I’ll even buy them for you tonight?” He batted his eyelashes at you.

“You didn’t just do that to me…” You pointed at him and bit your inner cheek. “I hate you.”

“Is that a yes?” He grinned.

“I don’t know!” You replied in frustration.

“Please? I won’t stop begging until you agree.”

It was as if his eyes got bigger every time he said please.

“You’re insane.” You groaned. “Whatever let’s just go.”

“Yes!” He threw his fist in the air, celebrating with a loud voice.

“God bless whoever’s gonna be actually dating you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling nonetheless at his antics.

“I love you too.” He giggled and pinched your cheeks. You swatted away his hand immediately. “I’ll pick you up tonight!”

And so he picked you up at your place later on with his parent’s car instead of his Harley. Said he wanted you to be able to dress prettily and not having your hair messed up by the helmet. Also because he just ordered the donuts, like promised. He knew there was a possibility of you actually bailing on him if he failed to do so.

You were nervous, but he assured you that he had informed his parents about the whole thing, so the only people to fool were his brother and his soon-to-be wife.

“You think I look okay?”

You asked the guy, turning around to show him your whole outfit. You were wearing a simple blouse and a pair of flared trousers. You weren’t quite sure if it was too formal or too underdressed for the occasion.

“I barely see you in anything other than t-shirts and baggy pants.”

“As if you’re not the same.” You shook your head and looked at him. He was in fact, still with his usual baggy jeans and oversized tee. “It doesn't look pretentious or anything, right?”

“It’s cute.” He assured. “Let's go.”

The compliment just rolled out from his tongue so naturally it almost took you off guard.

Arriving at Jungkook’s house, the first thing you noticed was a scooter that was parked in front of the fences. You didn’t further question it though as a wave of nervousness washed over you. The reality quickly sank on you that you were going to act as if you were dating your friend to fool his brother.

“Remember we’ve been dating for three months.” Jungkook said to you as he turned off the car engine.

“And we’re just taking things slow, no pressure.” You continued. “I’m actually so nervous.” You confessed.

He took a closer look at your face. “I mean hey, if you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll take you back home. It’s okay. I can just tell him that you still have work or something…”

“No, it’s fine.” You took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You sure?”

You nodded and stepped out of the vehicle.

As soon as you entered, you were welcomed by Jungkook’s mom, who had a beautiful smile on when she greeted you. You quickly noticed his brother Junghyun and his partner Yoora, sitting on a nearby sofa, eyes clearly on you, in which you quickly flashed a smile in return. You noticed an unknown man present though. He had medium length hair, fair skin, and a very comfy looking hoodie on.

“I see Jungkook wasn’t lying.” His brother grinned and shook your hand, introducing himself and then his partner.

You gulped, but kept your cool. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, that’s Yoongi by the way. He’s an old friend of mine.” He pointed at the guy standing at the corner and called him to join you.

The man walked towards your direction and shook your hand, giving you a very short greeting. You quickly smiled at the guy as well, before turning your head at the sound of Jungkook’s mom calling you all to the table.

“So how long have you guys been dating?” Jungkook’s brother asked.

“Three months.” Both of you said in unison. You cleared your throat, feeling awkward.

“Where did you meet?”

“Jimin introduced—“

Both of you spoke at the same time again. You looked at Jungkook in annoyance while he grinned apologetically. His mom giggled next to him, seeing the two of you.

“You guys are actually cute it’s disgusting.” The brother laughed.

You were glad for whatever that was, it did more good than harm in convincing the man.

“You guys should introduce Yoongi to someone too, he’s been single since forever.” He continued, earning an audible groan from the friend.

“Shut up, I do go on dates.” Yoongi protested.

“Hinge matches that you’ve never met in person don’t count, Yoongi.”

“I don’t have the time.” The man protested.

“He’s single? I’m surprised.” You said to Jungkook in a whisper.

“Why is that surprising?” Jungkook replied back in the same volume.

“He’s lowkey hot.” You said without thinking.

Jungkook looked back at you with big eyes and crunched his nose. Before he had the chance to react further, his brother spoke again.

“Any of your lady friends single?” Junghyun turned to you.

“I’m sure we don’t need to pressure the poor guy like that.” You smiled.

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna date before I met her too. You can’t force these things.” Jungkook said proudly. You almost rolled your eyes at the acting.

“Ew, who are you again?” The older brother laughed at his sibling’s words. “Y/N, I’m truly impressed. How did you even manage to tame this animal?”

“He’s actually really sweet and caring at times.” You giggled, gazing at him playfully.

“Hopefully that makes up for him being a brat most of the time?” Yoora looked at you with a smile.

“Hmm… that I’m not sure.” You chuckled.

“Oh, is that so?” Jungkook pinched your cheek with a big grin on his face. He knew you couldn’t slap his hand away when everyone was looking.

“You should join our party this weekend!” Junghyun said to you. “We have a couple of friends coming, it’s gonna be fun.”

“Uh, she’s kinda busy on the weekends… no?” Jungkook looked at you with worry.

You shook your head with a smile. Everyone had been very nice and welcoming to you. You would be lying to say that you were busy on the weekends. Wouldn’t want to add more lies on top of another lie.

“I know you don’t wanna go but don’t lie for her like that.” Junghyun eyed his brother.

Jungkook looked at you, perplexed. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I have nothing better to do anyway.”

After dinner the parents decided to hit the hay first, while Junghyun suggested to hangout at the back porch, having bought beers and all. You and Jungkook volunteered to fetch some cokes and snacks at the mini mart nearby.

“Seriously, Yoongi?” Jungkook suddenly said as both of you were browsing an aisle.

You gave your friend a side eye. “Are you judging my taste in men?!”

“You’re into nerds?”

“You’re one to talk.” You threw a bag of Doritos at his direction, that he caught just in time.

“I still go out and socialize.” He shrugged with a smug smile.

“Good for you.” You rolled your eyes and walked past him.

“He barely talks.”

“And you talk too much.”

“Ouch.” Jungkook dramatically put his hands on his chest.

“You’re taking it way too seriously, I just think he’s hot. I don’t know him.” You pushed him by his shoulder playfully.

“How about you get to know him then?” He suddenly suggested. You could practically see a broken lightbulb lit up above his head. “I’ll make sure you get to spend some time with him later.”

“You sure switch your lanes fast.” You shook your head. “We’re supposed to be a couple too, so that doesn’t help.”

“Just tell him, he’s chill.” He dismissed. “Knowing him, he probably doesn’t give two shits about it anyway. Besides, it’s not like I’m planning on lying to my brother forever.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” You thought it was weird too that you actually were considering making a move.

“He’s a nerd but he’s alright. Decent person.” He made an upside down u with his lips, nodding. “If that’s what you’re into, who am I to judge?”

“You suck.” You threw another snack at him, making him laugh.

After some chit chats and a few embarrassing stories later, it was almost twelve and at this point everyone just sat down enjoying the night sky. The couple seemed like they were enjoying themselves, cuddling up with each other on the other side of the porch, while you were left with a few more cans or beer with Jungkook and Yoongi.

Jungkook started to eye you weirdly, signaling you to say something to the awfully quiet man beside you. You looked at him, shaking your head. The boy just smirked at you before suddenly standing up.

“Gotta hit the bathroom real quick.”

“Jungkook…” You pulled him by his t-shirt, eyeing him.

“Don’t be too clingy now.” He chuckled and walked away, holding his laughter.

You sighed and turned to Yoongi, who was now looking at you after Jungkook leaving you alone with him. He took another can and twisted the handle open.

“You must have the patience of a saint to be with him.” He suddenly said.

Your eyes widened slightly at the comment, surprising he was starting a conversation. You shook your head, smiling. You didn’t know exactly where to start on the topic.

“Let me guess, he paid you to act?”

You gasped, covering your mouth. “Not too loud!”

“They’re asleep.”

You looked to your right, and a sigh of relief came out as you saw the couple sleeping on the couch.

“So it’s true?” Yoongi nonchalantly asked as he took more sips of the beer.

“Well, he didn’t pay me like that… He got me some donuts and I’m just doing him a favor.”

“You’re doing it for donuts?”

It was the first time you hear his chuckle, it sounded beautiful.

“You get a couple of donuts and he gets a brand new Nintendo Switch? That sounds fair.”

“I love doing things for the plot, I guess.” You smiled bashfully.

He hummed, still with a small smile on his lips. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“Huh? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I judge people’s character by their favorite movie.”

You giggled. “Jungkook was right.”

Yoongi looked at you questioningly.

“You’re a nerd.”

“Oh.” He voiced, seemingly lightly offended.

“It’s Midsommar and Inception.” You answered.

Instead of reacting, Yoongi just gulped the beer can, this time finishing it.

“So… what does that say about my personality?”

“You’re not dating Jungkook, right?”

You were once again surprised. “Depends on who’s asking.” You replied, testing the waters.

“I’m asking.” He said bluntly.

You grinned. “Then no, I’m not.”

You had a few more chats before Jungkook came back from his so-called toilet break. You had no idea where he went or what he actually did, but you made a mental note to thank him later for the small favor.

Jungkook drove you back home that night. The cheeky grin you had the entire ride was giving it away.

“You look creepy. I assume things went well?” Jungkook asked with eyes still on the road.

You shrugged but failed to wipe the smirk off your face. “I guess? You were right though…”

“About what?”

“He is a nerd… a cute one.” You giggled.

“Disgusting.” Jungkook shook his head. “Please keep your act at the wedding.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t betray you like that.” You patted his shoulder from the passenger seat. “After all, you did help me so I could talk to him. So, thank you.”

“Hey, thank you too for even agreeing to whatever this bullshit is.” He sighed. “You know you don’t have to go to that party too.”

“It’s okay, your brother and his girl are good people, I enjoy the company.” You paused then grinned. “Plus, I’ll get to see Yoongi again.”

“If he shows up, that is.” Jungkook laughed. “You better pray cause that man hates parties.”

You stared at the reflection in your mirror, fixing the wrinkles on the clothes, you twisted your body to the left and to the right. You were not so sure if wearing a mini skirt was a right choice for the party. You could easily go with your usual baggy jeans and crop top combo, but there was a possibility of Yoongi showing up and you wanted to look pretty. At the very least. Dunking your lip gloss and tint in your purse, you threw in your perfume as well.

The look Jungkook gave you once he saw you opening the car door was hard to miss. His mouth was ever so slightly gaped and his eyebrows furrowed. You would had guessed that he was insulting you, but his head nodded afterwards, lips turning into thin line as he did. He appeared to be amazed by what he saw.

“You dressed up well.” He said as you took a seat and closed the door.

“I’m still betting on Yoongi showing up, remember?”

“Ah yes, of course.” He clicked his tongue. “You don’t need to doll up for him, he’ll show up in a hoodie and bucket hat or something.”

“He doesn’t have to try.” You shrugged.

“Wow, calm down.” He looked at you with judging eyes. “This is you being sarcastic, right?”

You shrugged again, smirking.

One hour into the party and there was still no sign of your crush at the function. Jungkook’s brother was opening a second bottle of Jägermeister, pouring it for everyone, mixing it with cans of Red Bulls.

Your supposed boyfriend had already gulped multiple glasses down, his cheeks were glowing pink and he was even more chatty.

“Looks like your man isn’t coming.” He said to you.

“It is what it is.” You sighed, downing a shot.

“At least you look cute today.”

“You think so?” You eyed him with an amused smirk. You wondered if it was already the alcohol doing its thing.

“Yeah.” He agreed casually.

You chuckled. “I thought your tolerance was better than this.”

“I’m not drunk yet.” He rolled his eyes. “Wanna go get some fresh air?”

You looked around and saw everyon on the table was dancing around, pretty much tipsy if not drunk already.

“Can we?” You asked him.

Instead of answering, Jungkook went to his brother. “We’re going to catch some fresh air for a bit, is that good?”

“Alright, use protection kiddos.” The older man laughed and patted his shoulder.

“That’s not—“ The man was already back on the dance floor without letting his little brother finish the sentence.

Jungkook turned to you. “He thinks we’re off to fuck, but we’re good to go.”

“Ew.” You cringed but followed the man out from the club.

Jungkook sighed heavily as soon as you were at the front of the club. “I thought I was gonna turn deaf.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “Your brother parties well it seems.”

“He loves it. He’s borderline alcoholic.” Jungkook shook his head. “I think he likes you.”

“How do you know?”

“He knows my ex from two years ago. He was still bugging me on inviting her even after I told you were gonna show up at our dinner.” He sighed. “I don’t see her, I guess it worked out.”

“Is she someone I know?” You asked with a careful tone.

“I don’t think I’ve ever introduced her to any of you guys… Jimin knows her though.”

“I see…” You looked away, suddenly feeling awkward on the topic.

He eyed you and laughed, nudging you before he spoke. “It’s okay to ask, I don’t feel anything for her anymore.”

You stayed quiet and observed his demeanor, searching for doubts.

“Seriously! It wasn’t anything bad. We just wanted different things and it didn’t work out. My brother likes her though, so that’s why.” He laughed again, but it slowly faded as he was lost in thoughts on something. “Fuck, if I think about it, he’s gonna be so pissed once he finds out.”

“Is it really worth the Switch?”

“Totally.” He answered without hesitation, laughing. “You on the other hand, I just know it’s not worth the donuts.”

“It’s not that bad. I don’t hate it.”

“You’re just saying that because you met Yoongi.” He smirked.

“It is a nice bonus!” You cackled, looking up at the sky. “Everyone’s nice and I don’t hate hanging out with you.”

“Wow.” He rolled his eyes but a smile found his lips. “You know what, let’s go eat some good steak after the wedding!”

“Really?” Your eyes beamed with excitement.

He nodded. “I don’t hate hanging out with you either.” The grin on his lips was almost blinding.

Both of you wounded up talking some more. You didn't know that you enjoyed talking basically about shit nothings with him. You never really had the chance to spend time much time alone with him before, given you always met him with the group and you were more close to Jihyo and Jimin. You liked how silly and random he could be and the way he laughed sounded soothing. You were not sure why you came into that conclusion but you decided to stick with it.

Until a certain man stopped in front both of you.

“Why are you guys outside?”

“Yoongi?” You called, surprised upon seeing the guy. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

The man flattened his lips, trying to appear indifferent. He had his hands inside his pockets and everything. One thing you quickly noticed was how put together he looked. He looked very different from the guy you talked with at the back porch. His hair was sleeked back neatly and you could smell his perfume from where you stood. The black button up shirt fit his physique so well. Surely, no hoodie nor bucket hat like what Jungkook had mentioned.

Jungkook who seemingly aware of how starstruck you were, let out an audible groan at the scene.

“I had some work today, I thought of ditching actually.” Yoongi said while looking at you.

“What changed your mind?” You curiously asked.

The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Heard you’re invited.”

“Oh.” Your mouth went slightly ajar. You almost couldn’t believe his words.

“Y’all are disgusting. I’m heading in.” Jungkook walked right through the middle of you and Yoongi, storming right back into the club.

“Huh.” Yoongi voiced, eyes following Jungkook’s figure disappearing at the door. “Does he know?”

“He knows. It was even his idea…”You confessed. “He went to the toilet on purpose just so we could talk that night.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Nah, don’t worry. He’s just a pouty brat.” You dismissed. “Let’s go in?”

Yoongi nodded and followed you from behind.

The moment you and Yoongi arrived at the reserved table, Jungkook was doing two shots of something that one of his brother’s friend handed him. Your eyes met for a split second on his first shot, before he ignored you and chugged another one. Here you thought he was done drinking already. Did he forget that he drove you here?

You had known Jungkook for a while and you knew he could handle his alcohol. You had no problem switching place and drove him. So you kept conversing with Yoongi, thinking your fake boyfriend would be fine, just having a bit more fun wouldn’t hurt him.

Something was definitely wrong when you saw the lad slurring and excusing himself to puke.

“Kook? You alright?”

“No.” He replied from the toilet stall.

You heard another gagging sound before he pressed the flush button. He came out soon after, looking very flushed and unwell.

“I thought you were done drinking for the night.” You approached him, patting his back.

“I was being stupid.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can drive back…”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you and just take uber back.” You assured him.

Jungkook muttered a low “thanks” before trailing you from behind, back to the table.

“You alright, dude?” Yoongi looked at the guy with sympathy.

“Yup.” Jungkook did an okay sign, with half closed lids. “At least I can still form a thought.”

“Geez, how will you get home?” Yoongi looked at your direction.

“I can drive him and take a cab back.” You replied.

“I can take you home.” The man said sternly. “I’ll meet you at his apartment complex.”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” You widened your eyes, refusing politely. “You just got here too…”

“I insist.” Yoongi grabbed your shoulder, stopping you from rambling further. “Let’s go.”

You followed Yoongi and walked to bid goodbyes to the party host, letting him know the reasoning before heading to the parking lot.

The tatted man was pretty quiet and calm the whole ride, except for the very few short verbal responses he gave out when you asked him something. Occasionally he would hum like a little kid. You were just glad he was not that drunk to the point where it was impossible to handle. He could still walk by himself properly, but you walked him to his room just in case.

You were greeted by an over excited Bam, Jungkook’s dog, jumping up to you. It had been quite some time since last you saw the big Doberman. You were glad at least he didn’t think of you as a stranger. Once Jungkook had sat down on the couch, you went back to pet the dog.

“Did I tell you that you look cute today?”

You looked back at the man who was staring at you innocently. Finally getting to experience first hand on his drunk baby behavior instead of just hearing stories from Taehyung was something else.

“Yes, you did.” You said without looking at him. Your attention was still on the giant dog.

“Did Yoongi tell you that too?”

You halted and thought to yourself. That question definitely made you think. Yoongi did not mention anything about how your appearance whatsoever. Did he really have to though?

“No, he didn’t…”

“You’ve tried your best and he didn’t even say anything?!”

“Well, at least you noticed.” You smiled.

“You’re damn right I did.” He grinned proudly.

You shook your head at the nonsense. “Good night, Kook.”

“Night, cutie.”

When you got out, Yoongi was already waiting for you. You panned out exchanging numbers after he dropped you off.

“This might be the very last favor I’m gonna ask you before it’s finally done for real.”

“What is it again now?”

“Spend the night at the venue hotel with me? Please? My brother booked a room for the family and apparently he added an extra room for us…”

You could hear his voice begging over the phone call.

“What’s in it for me? I don’t wanna end up like that time you hit Jimin in his sleep.”

“Free breakfast and an awesome roomie that will try his best not to accidentally kick you in your sleep.” His chuckles slowly faded.

“So you’re basically offering nothing.”

“Please?” You could almost picture his exact facial expression.

“I guess a little staycation won’t hurt.” You sighed. It seemed like you couldn't find yourself to reject him. “We’ve already gone too far anyway, might as well just finish this.”

“Thank you so much!” The man shouted from the other line. “I’ll try my best not to hit you while I sleep.”

“You better be.”

So that was how you were now up binge watching unsolved crimes on YouTube, with your pretend boyfriend, who had a newly opened bottle of wine right in his hand, pouring it down onto a glass.

“You sure your brother wouldn’t mind us taking one of his wines?”

“Nah, this was gifted anyway.” He waved.

“If you say so.”

You took the freshly poured glass and slumped on the bed, enjoying the cool feeling of the bedsheets on your skin. Jungkook was lying down next to you, over the bed cover. Both of you had changed into your pajamas and all.

On the fifth video playing, you finally got a text back from Yoongi after you informed him about your small sleepover situation. It could be the lack of emojis used in the replies, but he seemed chill about the whole thing, only telling you to call him right away if anything cynical were ever to occur.

You didn’t realize but soon your attention was taken by the small screen in your hands, instead of the huge television in the room. But when it finally came into your attention, you quickly put down your phone. You had always disliked people playing with their phones when hanging out with you, figured you would not want to do the same thing.

“I just told Yoongi that I’m staying the night here.”

Jungkook’s eyes were already at you when you looked up from your phone.

He turned back to the screen, going back to take another chip from the bag on his hand. “What did he say?”

“He seems cool with it. Told me to call him straight up if you try anything fishy.”

“Are you guys like a thing now?”

“Eh, we’ve texted back and forth for days but that’s all.” You shrugged.

The man shifted his position to your direction. “So… do you like him?”

“I mean, I guess he seems like a perfect textbook boyfriend.”

“Whose textbook?” Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows.

“Well, mine?” You chuckled. “Guess I really do like nerds.”

“Oh, wow.” Jungkook said in a straight tone, unamused.

“I mean he’s nice and cute, what more can you ask for?”

The man sighed. “Well, if that’s the case then I guess good for you.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.” You noticed the shift in his voice.

“I’m not excited to see you being all gross with him after this.” He rolled his eyes and pushed the snack to your direction.

You took one chip and chuckled. “He could just be flirting for fun.”

“Yoongi doesn’t do that.” Jungkook replied with his mouth full. “Bro barely flirts in general.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Suddenly a big thunder flashed, making a loud noise that shocked both of you. You jumped from your seat to look by the hotel window. It was suddenly pouring heavy outside. Jungkook followed you shortly, peeking next to you.

You pulled the curtains open, enjoying the calming rain atmosphere. “We’re gonna sleep so good tonight.”

“Lights on or lights off?” The man asked.

“Off, all of them.”

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” Jungkook went in for a hi-five.

You crossed your leg and sat on the floor, eyes on the crazy weather outside. Once again, Jungkook mimicked and joined you on the floor.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked.

“Nothing, it’s just really nice.” You sighed. “Do you have any nosy relatives?”

“The old ones from my dad’s side are sometimes a bit, but nothing too crazy. Why? Ah… you’re scared you’re gonna get interrogated tomorrow?”

“Sorta, yeah.” You chuckled. “I don’t do well with new people.”

“You’re gonna be fine, they’ll like you.” He assured. “I’ll do the talk, you’ll just have to smile and look pretty.”

“You think I look pretty?” You pointed at yourself, grinning.

“I’ve told you before.”

You suddenly remember that night when he was drunk. “Oh, you remember that? You told me I looked cute though not—“

“I remember what I said.” He cut you off with a slight annoyed tone.

“Uh, thanks…” You said, suddenly feeling awkward. You didn’t know why he suddenly seemed so serious about it.

“You don’t believe it, do you?”

“Well, you were drunk and I know you, you love to say a lot of shit nothings.”

“I’m not drunk now so…” He puffed his cheeks.

“We were just drinking wine?” You replied.

Jungkook groaned. “Shut up.”

“Alright, I believe you.” You laughed. Your cheeks feeling ever so slightly warm. You decided it was due to the glass of wine instead of thinking of other possibilities.

Jungkook laughed as well, after he rolled his eyes at you. Your eyes met for a short second, but you quickly broke it off and looked back at the window. You were not quite sure why, but you felt the urge to lean your head on the boy’s shoulder. Figuring it wouldn’t be weird, you did so. After all, you did it all the time with Jimin too.

You could tell his shoulder stiffened at first, but it quickly loosened and relaxed. A few seconds later he leaned back his head on top of yours, and both of you just stayed like that for minutes, only the sound of the downpour filling up the room.

“Hey, look at the sky.”

“Huh?” You suddenly straightened your position and looked up. “What is—“

Then your mind blanked. In a split second Jungkook launched an attack, giving you a surprise kiss on your right cheek. You heard it making a loud smooch noise, despite the rain blaring in the background. You looked at him with your hand now holding your cheek. Would you believe that, the man just looked at you with a big grin as if he was innocent, his eyes turned into thin lines, his lip piercing glared under the moonlight.

“Did you just kiss me???”

“On your cheek, yes.” He nodded like a kid. The smug grin was still there, proudly.

“You told me to look at the sky!” You whined.

“That was the most classic move in the book.” He laughed.

“Whose book is this?!” You retorted. Weirdly enough, you didn’t seem to mind it that much.

“We need to both review our books it seems like.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, you just looked very pretty under the moon and all, it was very dramatic in my eyes.”

“Is this the alcohol talking again?”

“Stop blaming the alcohol and start taking my compliments seriously.” He folded his arms, the muscles flexed as he did.

Great. Now how in the heavens were you suppose to sleep again?

Thankfully, things somehow managed to cool down after that, and both of you soon retrieved to the bed after cleaning up.

You were glad the man next to you was a heavy sleeper, so he wouldn’t notice you tossing and turning. Should you be overthinking on Jungkook’s behavior? You knew he was a flirty being, you were sure he did things like this all the time. After all, he fell asleep almost instantly like nothing had ever happened, so it must be true.

The next morning when you woke up, the left side of the bed was already empty. You were glad that at least no accidents happened during your sleep. It would suck to go to the celebration with a blue eye. You still remembered Jimin’s pain that one time you went camping.

Assuming Jungkook was off to the gym, you got up and took a shower. By the time you were done, there was a sweaty bare back facing you, sitting on the edge of the bed, gulping down a bottled water.

Last time you saw Jungkook shirtless was a few months back, maybe even a year ago. Jihyo had this immaculate idea of a beach day, only for it to end up raining. You and her stayed inside the cottage the entire time. But the boys? They didn’t care. Every single one of them ended up catching the cold too.

That being said, at that period of time, Jungkook was already muscular, but he sure as hell wasn’t as this big. Maybe it was the amount of Twinkies he ate on his free time doing wonders on his bulking.

“Oh, you’re done?” Jungkook suddenly turned, clutching the t-shirt he had on his hand to his chest. It was almost funny how big his eyes popped open.

“Yeah.” You wondered why he got flustered all of the sudden.

“I may stink a bit.” He sheepishly laughed. “I’ll shower and we’ll get breakfast after?”

And before you knew it, you were on the table with the Jeons. A flared floral dress clung on your body, heels hanging on your left foot as you crossed your legs, sitting prettily as what Jungkook had asked you.

You were thankful he kept his words. Here you were, giggling at Jungkook’s aunt, telling you a story about how when he was a baby he used to cry every time upon seeing a literal piece of broccoli. You barely need to say anything. Jungkook kept the conversation going and would always wittily shift the conversation away from turning into public interrogation.

When the main celebration was over, he didn’t stop you from going to converse with Yoongi. Nor he did when the man kindly asked to swap dance partners. Maybe it was just how he didn’t need any more convincing or anything to prove. The job was already done.

You found yourself questioning on why he didn’t though, on why he just let you be. You questioned yourself on why you never really felt the butterflies around Yoongi. But at this point, you began to realize something was up. He would say something and all you could think of was how Jungkook would react over the top, make a dumb pun, and dance around like an idiot instead. Yoongi was exactly how you would imagine your perfect guy. But was it also a mental block that made you think you felt something for him other than mild admiration?

“You’re zoning out.”

“Oh! I was?” You jumped slightly, hearing Yoongi’s comment. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you looking for him?”

“I was just wondering where he went, I haven’t seen him since the dance…”

“I didn’t say a name.”

You were taken aback. Yoongi’s expression was a mixture of amusement and light disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my head’s been all over the place…” You replied in a low voice.

The man sighed, crossing his hands. “Don’t apologize. Don’t worry about it.

“But, Yoongi…”

“Think about it. Would you say yes if any other person asked you to do this ridiculous favor just for donuts? And why does Jungkook even need to do this so badly?! He could afford the console himself if he wanted to.”

Huh.

He sighed again, but this time there was a small smile on his lips. “Go. Before I like you even more.”

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi.”

“Just go.”

And with that push, you picked up your feet and searched. He was nowhere near his family table and nowhere at dessert bar. And you knew it wasn’t like him to not camp in the dessert area like a hungry child. You texted him but there was no immediate response. You weren’t sure if calling would be a good idea. You figured he must had ran back to the hotel room.

Your assumption was correct when you found him lying on the floor, with arms and legs stretched out like a starfish, tie discarded next to him. He only spared a look at you for a few seconds, before going back on focusing his vision up at the ceiling.

“Jungkook, what the hell are you doing…” You couldn’t help a smile forming on your lips.

“Comforting myself.” He grinned with eyes closed shut. “Wanna join?”

You looked at him and shook your head in disbelief. It took you merely five seconds of decision making before giving up and laid on your side next to him. Jungkook quickly turned his body to your direction once he felt your presence close by. With his arm under his head for support, there was that boyish grin plastered on his face looking at you again.

“So what are we doing on the floor again?”

“Dunno.” He bit his inner cheeks as he spoke. “You look really pretty today.” He mentioned unpromptly.

“Stop saying that.” You looked away.

“Just in case Yoongi hasn’t told you.” He grinned. “Why are you here? You should be at the party…”

“And you don’t?! I thought you want that new switch?”

“I do, it’s just… I can’t really give a damn about that right now, honestly.” He scoffed. “You shouldn’t be here, though.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s giving me hope.” He turned his body and laid on his back, facing the ceiling again. “This sucks balls but I have to admit that I’m jealous.”

You froze in place. Your eyes still glued to him, looking at his side profile as he continued to talk without meeting your eyes.

“Yoongi is exactly your type. The whole hot nerd vibe. Smart, broody, quiet. He’s what you go for.” He chuckled. “I’m gonna sound so pick me after this, but I’m not that. I’m dumb and loud. And I hate it.”

“Jungkook…”

“I know this is fake. But it didn’t feel fake.” His voice dropped. “Not to me. Holding you, laughing until we can’t breathe, and last night with the rain???” He smiled in defeat. “I guess somewhere along the line, I just stopped pretending. I stopped thinking about the switch. Hell, fuck the switch. Haven’t thought about it even once after that night at the club…” He shook his head vigorously like a dog, as if wanting to get rid of his thoughts. “I got so jealous that night I started drinking like an idiot.”

Your heart thudded painfully. “You know I liked Yoongi.”

Words coming out from your mouth shocked him, especially the way you were using past tense. His eyes glimmered in hope. Once again you were amazed by his big rounded eyeballs.

“But even when I was with him, I kept missing you. I kept wondering how you’d react, thinking about how you’d crack a lame joke, how you’d try to tease me about it…”

He blinked a few times. “Wait, really???”

“Yeah.”You chuckled, a bit flustered by exposing yourself. “I thought I was doing it for Krispy Kreme, but honest to heavens no one would actually be this dumb. I thought I was at least, but even Yoongi told me that this is just beyond ridiculous.” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be here if I don’t actually enjoy being with you.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. He too let out a heavy breath. He scooted closer to you with his pair of black boba eyes looking straight at you like a giant puppy.

“You mean it?”

“I mean, I did have one glass of champagne before coming up here…” You giggled.

The guy pouted. “Not funny.”

You reached for his nose and booped it, making him flinch. You took his left hand and placed it on your chest, where your heart was literally beating out of your rib cage. The eye contact didn’t last long as you broke it off, feeling your stomach twisted into a knot.

And Jungkook wasted zero second after that confirmation. He brought both of his palms and grabbed your face close. His soft lips found yours instantly. Your gasp was muffled by his mouth and it took you no time to melt into his touch though. The kiss was short, nothing too much. You were the first to broke it off, but he did leaned over to chase your lips once more. You caught a glimpse of his proud grin before he pulled you into a hug, stuffing your face into his embrace.

“Do we really have to do this on the floor?” You protested, but your jaw was basically hurt from smiling.

“You’re mine you’re mine you’re mine.” He chanted like a possessed individual. He buried his face in your hair and laughed freely.

“You’re insane.” You giggled.

“Insanely into you, yeah.” He proudly grinned.

“Oh my god, don’t make regret this.” You rolled your eyes playfully, finding his antics endearing.

“You’re mine!!!” He declared again, almost shouting while squeezing you.

“You haven’t asked anything though.” You backed away, raising your eyebrows at him.

His eyes widened and his mouth went slightly ajar. "Oh yeah, you’re right, I haven’t asked properly. Well then…” He leaned in a bit closer and took your hand in his, looking into your eyes with sincerity. He inhaled and then, “Do you want to eat wagyu steak with me tonight?”

You pushed him off and whined.

He laughed, holding his stomach as he did. “Let’s get up first. I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend on the floor.”

Thank you for reading! 💐

1K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

𝒪𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝓣𝘸𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you and jungkook are caught in the kind of mess you only see in movies. you’re both fresh off breakups, hearts still sore and pride completely wrecked. you’re crying outside a lecture hall, and he just happens to be there. he offers you something stupid, fake date each other to make your exes jealous. at first, it’s just a weird little idea to save face and maybe distract yourselves. but it doesn’t stay simple for long. there are fake kisses, forced hand-holding, and the kind of awkward tension that makes your skin crawl. except… it starts changing. somewhere between all the pretending, something shifts. the lines blur. and suddenly, what started as fake doesn’t feel so fake anymore. it’s a mess. it’s confusing. it’s everything you didn’t ask for. but maybe it’s also exactly what you need.

s - smut f - fluff a - angst hc - hurt/comfort

no link = wip!

ℴ𝓃ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓂ℴ𝓃ℯ𝓎 [ a / hc ] ⤹ you just got dumped and ended up crying outside the arts building. jungkook, the football guy whose own ex just left him for someone else, finds you mid ugly cry and says something insane: you and him, fake dating. you laugh at first, but you’re too tired to say no. it’s awkward from the start, full of stiff hugs and fake photos. and this is only day one.

word count – 3.7k

𝓉𝓌ℴ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓌 [ f / a ] ⤹ you’re officially "together" now, or at least that’s what everyone thinks. every instagram story, every weirdly timed kiss on the cheek. it all feels a little off. like you’re trying too hard. and maybe you are. but behind the teasing and the sarcastic grins, there’s something else. something warm and terrifying that makes your chest feel tight every time he looks at you for a second too long.

word count – 3.1k

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒸ℯ𝒹 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓍𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉𝓎 [ s ] ⤹ the plan never included this. the heated looks. the lingering touches. the way your breath hitches when his hand brushes your waist. it was supposed to be all pretend. just holding hands and laughing in public. but now you’re in his room and it’s quiet, and you’re way too close, and neither of you is pulling away.

word count –

𝓉ℴℴ 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓈ℯ𝒸𝓇ℯ𝓉𝓈 [ a / hc / f ] ⤹ everything changed after that night. now you can’t stop overthinking. the feelings are real, and that scares you more than anything. you’ve been hurt before and you can’t tell if this is real or just another setup for heartbreak. so you pull away. you ghost his texts. you act like nothing happened. but you miss him. and jungkook? he’s not letting you go without a fight.

word count –

𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁 [ f ] ⤹ after all of it—the pretending, the jealousy, the hiding. you stop pretending. he does too. what started as a plan to get back at your exes turns into something softer, something real. and this time, when he holds your hand, it means something. this time, you hold on.

word count –

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

ribbon banner creds - @cursed-carmine

136 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

No Big Deal

Sexy Disasters With Feelings masterlist

You were doing so well pretending that night didn’t happen—until Jungkook showed up with a new piercing and a smug smile that ruined everything. Now you’re spiraling, trying to convince yourself this still doesn’t mean anything.

warnings: sex, cursing, mentions of drunk behavior.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: Okay so… it only took me two months (fuck. Is it really been this long?!) and five existential crises to finish this chapter. It’s chaotic, it’s horny—and I really hope you enjoy it. If you’re still here reading, thank you. I was honestly a little nervous about this one, so your likes, reblogs, and little comments mean the world to me. See you in the next chapter (hopefully sooner than two months..)

Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you

You’ve been doing your best to avoid Jungkook for a couple of days now.

Which is hard, considering you live together.

But after that night—after the stunt you pulled in your kitchen, and on the couch, and then again in his bed—you’ve spent the entire time you’ve been home hiding out in your room, alternating between dying of embarrassment and fantasizing about digging a hole and climbing inside it forever.

You told him you were sorry. Multiple times.

He said it was fine.

“You were cute.”

You want to die.

Eventually, once again, hunger wins the war against shame. The apartment is quiet. Maybe he went out. Maybe he’s—

And then you see him.

In the kitchen. Shirt loose. Hair is a little damp. And something glinting above his eye. You stop mid-step. What the hell. Your brain short-circuits. Is that—

“You pierced your face?”

Jungkook turns to face you fully slowly. His eyes flick to yours. For a second, he looks startled. And then he looks smug.

“Not my face. Just the brow.”

Your brain probably stops functioning because you don’t feel like you have control over your mouth anymore.

“Why?” you ask like it's a legitimate question.

“Why not?” he asks with a smile and tilts his head.

It’s small, silver, subtle little dots above his right eye— why does it affect you so much?

What are you? A crow? Attracted to shiny objects?

Weren’t you over your emo-boys phase in middle school?

It shouldn’t be allowed.

He shouldn’t be allowed.

You hate him.

You hate how unfairly hot he looks. You hate how much worse it makes everything. As if it wasn’t already humiliating enough to have tried to undress him with your teeth that night.

“You’re staring,” he says, voice low and smug.

“No, I’m not,” you lie, horribly, like someone caught mid-crime.

His smirk deepens.

“You sure? You’ve been looking at me like that since I turned around.”

“Like what?” you ask, annoyed. You fucking hate him.

“Like you’re about to do something.”

You cross your arms. You try to look unimpressed. You are not even slightly successful.

“I just didn’t think you were the piercing type,” you mutter.

Jungkook steps closer.

Just a little.

“I didn’t think you were the piercing type,” he says with a pleased smirk.

“You don’t know me,” you say like he offended you, even though you didn’t know you’re the piercing type.

“And you obviously don’t know me,” he says, pleased. But there’s something gentle behind his words. A meaning he tries to deliver, and you miss catching.

His eyes sparkle like he’s about to say something dangerous. Something you’ll think about later, in the dark, alone.

But all he does is reach past you to grab the peanut butter from the cabinet.

“You want toast?” he asks, completely unbothered.

You blink at him, caught in the whiplash of that voice and that stupid piercing and the way your stomach growls.

“Yeah,” you say as casually as possible. “Sure.”

You sit down waiting for your toast. You try not to look at him.

But you do.

Oh, no.

You’re so fucked.

He brings you the toast a few minutes later, plate in one hand, mug of tea in the other. He doesn’t say anything as he sets them down in front of you. Just moves like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like you didn’t basically try to seduce him and fail a few nights ago.

Like his eyebrow isn’t now a monumental event in your life.

You eye the toast. “You put Nutella on it?”

He shrugs, sliding into the chair across from you. “You always want something sweet when you’re pissed. Figured it might help.”

“I’m not pissed,” You say, sounding pissed.

“Okay,” he says simply, “So what are you?”

“I-I’m–”

You hate him.

“Urghhh, you’re so annoying!”

He giggles like he finds your meltdown amusing.

You chew your toast unnecessarily aggressively.

Neither of you says anything after that. You both just chew on your toast and sip from your tea.

The silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. Something is sitting in the air between you—unspoken, obvious. Like both of you are waiting for someone to address this.

Jungkook’s watching you.

You try to ignore it.

You fail.

“You didn’t have to take care of me that night,” you mutter eventually, eyes on your plate. “I was acting like a drunk, horny idiot.”

“I mean,” he says with a soft chuckle, “you were.”

You shoot him a glare. He holds up both hands in surrender, still grinning. “But I didn’t mind.”

You roll your eyes. “You minded a little.”

He tilts his head. “Only because I didn’t want you to regret it.”

You pause.

You don’t look up.

“I wouldn’t have,” you say quietly.

Jungkook goes still.

You feel it in the air more than you see it.

You finally meet his eyes.

It’s subtle, but something shifts between you—like the conversation just took a step off a ledge, and now you’re both in danger.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His voice is quieter now. The smugness is still there.

“Then why’d you say it should be a one-time thing?”

You should have seen this one coming from miles away.

You should have known this is what he’s going to say.

It’s not like it’s the first time he teases or challenges this statement.

He’ll use any chance you give him.

“Because I meant it,” you say while chewing, trying to deliver nonchalant, but fail.

“Meant?” he asks with raised brows.

“Because I mean it,” you try to fix the mistake.

He’s watching you again, but not smug this time. Soft. Curious. A little disbelieving of the bulshit you say.

“You know I think about it too, right?” he says, like it’s obvious.

You scoff, taking another bite of toast. Trying to defuse whatever he’s doing. “Congrats to me. You think about the sex we had. That’s not exactly groundbreaking.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Didn’t say it was.”

“I’m just saying,” you go on, eyes fixed on your plate, “We just did it one time, and that’s it. It was good. My drunk self tried to do it again. And that’s it, it doesn’t have to mean anything. ”

“Doesn’t have to,” he repeats slowly. “But what if it does?”

You freeze for half a second. Then recover with a small shrug, like he said something about the weather.

“I mean…” You take a sip of tea. “You’re not exactly the ‘meaningful’ type.”

His eyebrows lift, amused. “Wow.”

You meet his eyes for a second, then look away. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

He twists his lips. “You kind of did.”

You sigh, setting your cup down. “I just meant… You’re you. You flirt with everyone. You’re hot and you know it, and I’m not stupid.”

Jungkook tilts his head, watching you a little too closely.

“So what, you thought that night was just about sex for me?” “I wasn’t just being nice the other night,” he adds. “When I said it was better if we didn’t–”

“Isn’t it always just about sex with you?” you say before he continues.

“I liked being with you,” he says quietly. “It’s not like my whole purpose in life is to fuck you.”

It’s weird. The crude words with the gentle voice. You scoff, trying to brush it off.

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. You're nice, and fun, and funny.” He continues and smirks, “And I always like defeating you.”

“Shut up,” you try not to smile, and you toss the little crust from your toast at him.

He smiles.

“I didn’t want to have sex with you like that because I didn’t want to ruin this.”

You cock a brow, “To ruin what?”

“This,” he gestures between the two of you.

“Us.”

You blink at him. The word hangs in the air, too loud and too soft at the same time.

“Us?” you repeat, voice flat—like you’re not letting it land the way he wants to.

He nods once, slow. Sure.

You look away, start fidgeting with your mug. “There’s no us, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t react. Not visibly.

“I mean,” you continue, forcing a light tone, “we’re just roommates. Friends, maybe. Occasionally… disastrous.”

“Right,” he says, too casually. But there’s something tight in his voice now. Something he’s reining in.

So you stand up and gather your dishes. “Thanks for the toast.”

He doesn’t answer at first.

Then, as you’re rinsing the plate at the sink, he says, “You always do this.”

Your hands pause under the water.

“Do what?” you ask, careful.

“Try to run away when something is about to happen.”

There is roughness in his voice. Yet, he says it differently. He doesn’t sound hurt, or pained. It’s something else. Something raw and electric.

Before you manage to process that you’ve heard this before– seen this mask, this persona– you hear the chair slide on the floor as Jungkook stands up.

He comes to stand behind you, almost touching, but not really.

He lowers his head, lips ghosting your ear. You can feel his breath fanning on your cheek.

“Do you really want to run away?”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

You want to say something. But you can’t find words.

Do you want to push him away? Or do you want to pull him closer?

You don’t know anymore.

And you can’t blame alcohol this time.

“I know this is all you think about from the moment you enter the room.”

You hate that he’s not wrong.

“You’re not as hard to read as you’d like to think.”

He sounds so smug that it infuriates you.

Yet, you don’t move, don’t deny.

He reaches his hand past your waist and closes the faucet. You blink a few times. You didn’t even notice the water still running on your hands.

He rests his hand on your waist, like it’s natural, like it belongs there. It’s warm and heavy. And it dizzies you.

“Do you still mean it?”

“W-what..?” You’re not sure if it’s really unclear or if it’s him obscuring your mind.

“That we should be a one-time thing.”

He says and lands a soft kiss behind your ear.

“I-I-wh–” you mumble incoherently.

And the bastard chuckles, dark and low, “I see.”

You should say something.

Anything.

But your mouth has forgotten how to form words.

His lips are still close. You can feel the echo of that kiss behind your ear.

His hand hasn’t moved from your waist. If anything, his grip tightens—just slightly. A silent question.

You don’t answer.

Not with words.

But without consciousness, your body reacts. Suddenly, your back pressed to his front.

Was he pressing closer to you, or were you leaning back into him?

You don’t know.

And you’re not sure that you care at the moment. All you can feel is a fire and a need building to an almost unbearable height.

He hears your answer.

You feel him exhale, slow. Controlled. And then he isn’t.

His free hand rises, fingers brushing your hair aside, exposing more of your neck.

He leans in again, slower this time.

His lips press to the skin just below your jaw.

Then lower.

Then lower again.

Each kiss burns.

Your breath hitches.

You’re still frozen, your hands gripping the edge of the sink like it’s the only thing anchoring you from fainting.

Then his voice, low and right against your skin.

“Tell me to stop.”

But he knows you won’t.

You can’t.

Instead, your head tips just slightly to the side—an invitation you don’t want to speak out loud.

He pulls you back from the counter, turns you in his arms.

Your eyes meet, and everything in his is fire and restraint. Lust and fear. You don’t know what he’s scared of. You don’t want to know.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says, repeating your words back to you—but his tone makes it clear he knows they’re bullshit.

And maybe that’s why it makes your stomach flip.

You answer him by gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him down to kiss you.

This time, it’s different. It’s not tentative or fueled by alcohol. It’s sharp and sure and deep.

He groans into your mouth and walks you backward, toward his room, like he’s known this was coming. Like he’s been waiting for you to finally cave.

Maybe you also knew.

“This time I’m doing this properly,” he murmurs between kisses.

You don’t know what he means, but you’re about to find out.

You pull back just slightly, enough to look at him, breathless.

“You’re way too smug right now.”

He grins, cocky and infuriating, “What, can’t a guy be smug when he’s proven right?”

You blink at him, “Proven right?”

He leans closer, “Knew it wasn’t gonna be a one-time thing.”

You roll your eyes, “God, you’re such an asshole.”

He smiles wider, returning to kiss you as he says between your lips, “Maybe.”

You’re in his room, and he starts to pull your shirt over your head. The stupid smile is still on his face.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

He hums against your jaw, and he trails down the side of your neck, “I told you. I knew you’d come around.”

You scoff, “I didn’t come around. I just—”

He gives a wet kiss behind your ear. One that sends a shiver down your spine, and he leans back. Eyes meeting yours, dark and lustful, but glinting with mischief.

“You just what?” he asks with a smirk.

“You’re insufferable.”

He returns his lips to the skin of your neck, hands hot and certain on your waist as he leads you towards the bed.

You stumble back until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, and you sit, breath hitching, thighs slightly parted. He looks down at you with dark eyes and a crooked one-sided grin. Like he’s plotting something. Your demise, maybe.

He drops to his knees.

You blink at him, startled.

He smirks up at you.

His hands glide up your bare thighs, spreading them gently, and he leans forward, kissing the inside of your knee.

He kisses higher.

And higher.

Until your breath is ragged and your spine is arching and your fingers are gripping the sheets.

He looks up at you, more gentle this time. Less like a predator, and more like… like.. A lover boy?

Your answer is a shaky exhale and a hand in his hair, tugging just enough to make him grin.

“Lean back for me,” he commands, but it’s soft and breathless.

And you obey, starting to lean back slowly.

Before you fully lie on your back, he tugs your shirt, “Wait.”

You help him pull the shirt over your head. He puts his palm flatly on your bare stomach, eyes big and unblinking, taking in your bare top.

He pushes slightly, but you resist, “You too.” You say weakly, your mouth dry.

“Gladly,” he smiles and pulls the shirt with one swift motion.

He returns his hand to your lower stomach, pushing you a bit. And you comply, lying on his bed, legs dangling over the edge.

His hand goes to the waistband of your shorts, and he starts to pull them down with your panties, slow. Very slow.

Your breath hitches as the air hits your skin. Cool against the heat.

Jungkook’s eyes stay locked on yours for a beat too long as he slides the fabric down your legs.

As if to say this isn’t just sex, and you know it.

He drops your clothes to the floor and runs his hands slowly up the insides of your thighs again, fingers dragging, teasing, warm. His palms settle at your hips.

You look at him, and he looks at where his hands are touching.

You catch the glimmer of his new piercing, and a shiver goes down your spine.

He notices, and he lifts his eyes to see you looking at him before you avert your gaze.

You expect him to say something stupid, something cocky and so very him.

But he doesn’t.

He dips his head, moving your right leg slightly above his shoulder.

Oh, shit.

His mouth is on you, and his tongue is warm, slow. Like he has all the time in the world to savor this moment, and he plans to take every second of it.

Your hips jolt, and his hands tighten on your thighs, holding you steady, grounding you with a soft groan against your skin.

You’re already panting, gripping the sheets, breath breaking.

He doesn't say anything. Just keep going. Keep devouring, like you’re his favorite thing.

You moan louder when he flicks his tongue just right—when he sucks at the spot that’s already making your vision blur.

He pulls back for a split second, looking up at you with a wet mouth and hooded eyes.

And when he goes back in, he slides his hand as well.

He doesn’t go in yet, he just lets his fingers be there, linger at your entrance. Let them be coated with slick as he puts a little pressure, moving them gently around.

He starts pushing them in, not all the way at first. He starts shallow and goes deeper with each few thrusts, like he’s testing, like he’s studying where he should stop.

And he finds the spot easily. As if he already knows.

He notices right away that he’s got it.

And then he starts being serious.

He puts work and intentions into his movements.

Fuck.

You can barely breathe.

Every muscle in your body is on fire, straining toward him. Your hips buck again—helplessly—and Jungkook just hums against you, sounding entirely too satisfied with himself.

Or just satisfied.

That piercing glint again as he glances up, catching your eyes with a mix of focus and cockiness.

"You good?" he asks with a raspy voice, lips brushing against your thigh.

You can only nod, frantic, barely able to form words. His fingers curl inside you again, and your mouth drops open in a silent cry.

He keeps going, steady and sure, unrelenting in the way he’s touching you like he already knows your body better than you do.

You’re unraveling.

Fast.

And you hate him for it.

And you need him for it.

You reach for him blindly, fist curling in his hair, not sure what you’re trying to do.

But apparently, Jungkook knows what you need because his mouth is back on you.

Your head flops back onto the bed, breath stuttering.

His name slips from your lips, quiet, broken.

He hears it. You know he does. Because his grip on your thigh tightens, his pace shifts, and suddenly it’s all too much.

Your hand is still tangled in his hair. You grip harder, pulling without direction. Your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck—K-kook,” you gasp.

You don’t know if you want him to stop or never stop.

He keeps going, steady and relentless, fingers curling perfectly in time with his mouth, pushing you closer, deeper.

Your spine lifts off the mattress. Your breath catches.

And then you break.

It hits hard, like a snap. It rips through you in pulses, your thighs clamping around his head as you gasp his name again.

Louder this time.

Your fingers dig into his hair and shoulder, and anything you can reach.

You’re vaguely aware of your own sounds, too raw, too real, but you’re too far gone to stop them.

He keeps going through it, holding you down with strong hands. He doesn’t stop until you're twitching, oversensitive.

When he finally pulls back, his face is flushed, his hair a mess, strands stick to his glistening forehead, his lips slick, and that piercing catches the light again.

He looks wrecked.

You are wrecked.

You cover your face with one arm, breath still jagged, skin buzzing.

You feel him laugh against your thigh, quiet, smug.

He moves back, dragging his palms down your legs before letting go completely. You hear the mattress creak as he sits beside you, his breathing just as uneven.

You’re still staring at the ceiling, still trying to remember how to exist inside your own body.

Your legs feel like jelly. Your face is burning.

You let your arm drop just enough to peek at him. He’s looking at you like he just won something.

Like he knew exactly how this would go.

He reaches out, gently brushes a strand of hair from your sweaty face.

“Lie down prettily for me, babe.”

Then he stands, shoving down his sweats and boxers in one motion.

With one stride, he’s at the nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer.

He tears the foil open, but before slipping it on, he glances back over his shoulder.

“You good?” he asks with a sweet smile..

You blink, realize you’re staring. Frozen in place. It snaps you out of it.

“Ye—” Your voice catches. You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

You shift across the bed, lying back properly now, and seconds later, he’s crawling over you.

You meet his eyes, and he dips his head for a kiss.

He guides himself in, and while your mouths are still connected, he pushes in slowly.

You groan against each other’s lips when he bottoms out, fully seated inside you.

He lifts his head, just enough to look down at you as he begins to move—slow, deep, steady.

And fuck, this feels good.

No—but like, too good.

You’re moaning. Gasping.

He just got in there.

What is going on?

He picks up the pace slightly. Nothing wild, just a steady rhythm.

But nothing about you feels steady.

You grab at his shoulders, arms winding around him like you’re trying to stay grounded.

You pull him closer, bury your face in his neck. Trying—failing—to muffle the sounds coming out of you.

This can’t be real.

This shouldn’t be happening.

You’re close. Way too fast.

It hasn’t even been two minutes. You’re almost sure.

Fuck.

You bite his shoulder—hard—desperate to hold it in, to hold yourself together.

But it doesn’t work.

It crashes over you, sudden and sharp.

You’re shaking.

Your whole body pulses around him. You feel your walls clench around him, hard.

You can barely breathe.

This never happened to you.

Not like this.

Not this fast.

What kind of sorcery is he doing?

What kind of spell did he put on you? Put on that dick?

Jungkook doesn’t slow. That same rhythm carries on—only faltering for a second as he presses a single kiss to your shoulder.

He shifts, one hand braced beside your head, the other grabbing your thigh to tilt your hips.

He picks up the pace. Louder now.

His hands are everywhere. One moment, he grabs a boob, fingers closing around your nipple, then squeezing the flesh. Another moment, his hand on your jaw, pulling you into a kiss. Then he settles back on your thigh, giving himself a better position to go deeper.

Your hands also wander. You feel the muscles of his back working under the hot sticky skin. You try to hold onto his biceps, but your fingers can barely wrap around half of it. You go to his thigh, sliding over to grope his ass.

Everything about him feels good.

And it still feels too good, even through the sensitivity. Even through the aftershocks.

His movements turn sloppy. Thrusts losing rhythm. Both of you moaning like you’ve lost any shame.

Maybe there wasn’t much to begin with.

And with a forceful final thrust, he buries himself deep.

“F-fuck.”

You can feel him twitch inside of you, and you feel yourself pulse against him.

With a loud grunt, he crushes back onto you. Sweaty, hot skin stuck to each other.

He’s still jerking, his body still tense, and he breaths quickly.

It takes both of you a few long minutes to calm down.

He pulls himself out of you with a grunt, plopping by your side, making your body jump off the mattress a little.

He’s rolling off the condom, tossing it towards–what you hope is– a trash can near his bed.

He lies back with a sigh.

And you can feel his gaze on you.

You scowl. “Stop looking at me like that.”

You sneak a look at him.

He smirks, unfazed. “Like what?”

You look back at the ceiling, “Like you’re so fucking proud of yourself.”

You feel him shrug, way too casual.

“You seemed to like it.”

You sit up slightly, groaning, you look down at him, “I hate you.”

He grins wider, “I know.”

You pull the sheet up over your chest and flop back down, pretending like this was no big deal.

Like it didn’t just wreck you from the inside out.

Like this was just sex.

Just really, really good sex.

And maybe it was.

Maybe that’s all it is.

You don’t look at him again.

But you feel his arm wrapping around you.

Holding you in place.

Back to series masterlist

202 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

OKAY BUT WHY ARE THEY ALL GOING LIVE— First hobi (which made sense be of Lola) but then jk and Jimin and then Tae and THEN Jungkook again

I can’t take this whiplash

Edit: AND JINS LIVE AND NAMJOON AND YOONGI AT BP TOUR i can’t

25 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 4 days ago

Text

karmic energy -> jjk (one)

summary: it's simple: you just want jungkook to stop being mean to jimin; he's too timid for his own good to put an end to his rough-housing. you take matters into your own hands, and you're confident a simple empathy spell would do the trick but it lands you in his shoes instead, and him in…yours? well, shit.

rating: R18+ MATURE, minors please do not interact

pairing: witch!fem reader x himbo!jk

genre(s): established relationship, 80s au, college au, slice of life, eventual smut

word count: 5.4k +

warnings/tags: body swap trope, based in the 80s, golden retriever!reader, elements of magic, fantasy themes, jock!jk (not by choice lol), older brother!jin, warlock!jin, nerd!jimin, swearing, bffs taehyung and jk, nudity, allusions to fingering and sex, the condom gets stuck LOL, extremely overly dramatic visit to the obgyn, themes of exploring sexuality and battling with it, taehyung is openly queer <3

notes: wanted to take a crack at something lighthearted, because i feel like my last few uploads have been so angsty/serious. this will be a fun challenge for me because i've never written anything like this before! it’s not a jigglyjeon special without a bit of fantasy/magic doe 😉 please let me know what you think pretty people <3

soundtrack: manic monday - the bangles // head over heels - tears for fears // mr. blue sky - electric light orchestra // karma chameleon - culture club

⋆ ࣪. masterlist ˖ ࣪⭑

next ->

You watch the smoke that arises from the cauldron with a narrowed glare, as if staring through the mist was going to change the fact that there was absolutely nothing happening.

Like, at all.

You stomp your foot with a pout on your lips, folding your arms over your chest when you look to your brother. But of course, he’s fucking laughing at you. Your fingers twitch with the desire to slap him over the back of the head.

“That was terrible, dear sister.” He wheezes, rubbing his forefinger and thumb over his temples to hide his eyes that were currently shaped like crescent moons, as he snickers at you. You glower, shoulders falling as you stare daggers at your older brothers toppling frame. “Just smack him on the ass with your broom stick and call it a day.”

“Can it, stinker.”

The insult brings him down from the hysterical high that your failures induced in him, smacking his lips together with a loud pop. He despises when you call him that. Others? Fine, sure – funny even- not you, though. Not his kid sister. He clicks his tongue. “Play nice.”

“You started it, smelly.” You roll your eyes, turning back to the bubbling cauldron. “I was so sure it was going to work that time. Look, it’s bubbling.” You shove your hand in the direction of said bubbles, but Jin has to peak over the edge to catch what you’re referring to. The tiniest pop emerges from the black pot. He bites his lip to contain the snort that threatens to come out.

“Yeah, yeah! I can…see it.” He squeaks, clearing his throat. “Sort of.”

You go to scold him, but he speaks again, distracting you completely.

“So, you say you’re making a potion for your meat-head boyfriend–”

“His name is Jungkook.”

“–Right. Do remind me what it’s for again?”

You huff, twisting your body side to side as you mutter incoherently. You purposefully slur out your words quickly in hopes he doesn’t actually hear you.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to speak up a little more for me to hear you there, Glinda the good.” He snorts with amusement.

“I want to cast an empathy spell on him!” You exclaim, throwing your arms out wide. It makes Jin flinch, and he clutches his chest at the sudden raise in your voice.

“Okay, yeah. I thought that’s what you said.” He brushes off his chest that’s clad in a white t-shirt, the same cursed one that he always liked to fold the arm cuffs on.

You would tease him and tell him he was trying so hard to look like Danny Zuko, but each time he would just wink at you with pride. He would tell you that it was exactly what he was going for. He would also say it in that annoying, and not to mention terrible, impression of him. John Travolta was probably recoiling somewhere in a penthouse in Los Angeles.

“Then what’d he exactly do that’s making you want to change him so bad?” He crosses his arms, raising an inquisitive brow.

“I-I don’t want to, I just–” You fiddle with your fingers, whingeing when his words only make you feel bad.

It’s not that you wanted to change him, Jungkook was your lover – now, forever, and always – it was just that, well, Jimin was such a nice person. Too nice for his own good, even.

He didn’t deserve the excessive patting against his back, purposefully done so that it had the frames that hung low on the bridge of his nose propellered onto the ground. You watched it unfold from a distance; he was on his way over to you but had come out of the building with Jimin beside him; the way Jungkook had gave him a faux apology, cooing at him as if he had unintentionally kicked a small puppy. He offers to pick up his glasses for him only to accidentally kick them further along the concrete.

Jungkook smacks him on the shoulder as he laughs, it makes Jimin flinch at the sudden sting ringing on his bicep. He still lets out a small chuckle, no doubt to appease his bully, but it’s sheepish and small. He nods meekly when Jungkook bids him goodbye as if nothing had even happened. Why Jimin continued to treat Jungkook with kindness was beyond you.

Then, when you asked him to tone it down, he would proceed to excuse it to you as him showing Jimin brotherly love.

“This is just how guys show that they care for one another, babe.” He explains it to you as if it’s a foreign concept to you, and it kind of was. It didn’t really make a whole lot of sense to you. You had let it go for the first couple of times, because you did happen to know that Jungkook and Jimin have known each other since they were in high school. They were old friends, he had told to you.

“Jimin knows that I’m only joking around. Just pushin’ his buttons, a little, that’s all.” He promises you, following it up with a romantic kiss that makes you swoon. You make your usual heart eyes at him, and he knows he’s successfully curbed your disappointment. For now.

Jungkook’s arm is already draped over your shoulder and greeting the friends you sat with. Your eye wanders back over to Jimin who had since crouched down carefully, holding out his arms as he taps frantically around at the ground to find his glasses because he couldn’t see all that well without them. You curl your lips to the side, fighting a pout, because it doesn’t seem all that much like a joke to you from where you’re currently standing.

But you knew Jungkook, and he had the biggest heart you’d ever encountered in a man of his calibur. Of course you were bias, you were his girlfriend after all, but that was precisely how you knew the truth about him. He was always there to help with no questions asked, and sometimes he just did things out of the own kindness of his heart. What you didn’t know is that he only really did that so he could feel useful to you.

You really were just a fool in love.

Jungkook knows he isn’t the brightest tool in the shed. He majored in music and arts and had gotten into the esteemed college purely with the help of his football scholarship. He never even really liked football all that much, but his father had thrown him into the sport when he was young.

Every time he approached his father with the sincere request of quitting because he hardly enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed the arts, his father would tell him the same thing. Every. Single. Time.

“Football gave me everything, boy.” He would say with a longing sigh. “My life, my job and even my wife. You’ll thank me for it one day— trust me.”

So…yeah.

Jungkook wasn’t allowed to quit playing football.

It didn’t even matter how much he begged it of his father, because according to him: football is love, football is life.

Sure, Jungkook had met his best friend, Taehyung, from playing football with him nearly his entire life, but even he didn’t care for the sport, really. Other than that? Everything else in Jungkook’s life had come from outside of football entirely. Aside from his scholarship, of course.

Like you, for instance; he had met you at a renaissance fair of all places— totally bogus, right?

He was at first drawn in by the soft melodies that played in the background. It was music and wherever there was music, Jungkook was there too. There was surprisingly only a small crowd around you watching, most people mindlessly walking by and indulging in the complete dweebery of the ren fair.

They were missing out, Jungkook had thought so, because there you were: looking so majestic. You were playing the harp with elf ears peeking out from beneath your hair, leafy vines purposefully entangled within your messy, thick braid. Maybe it was a good thing there weren’t many onlookers. He had locked in on you, and he was already starting to feel possessive. No one else could make them yours before him. That was a promise he had made to himself.

You had looked like a princess that had come straight out of a fantasy novel, with the v-shaped head piece draping down onto your forehead with an iridescent opal jewel in the middle. It had brought out the colour of your eyes, and he thought you had such pretty eyes.

It was as clear to him as it was to anyone else that had a pair of eyes— Jungkook was totally, irrevocably whipped over you from the very first moment he saw you.

But like, this random tall dude with black hair standing next to you playing the piccolo? Yeah, wasn't doing it for him; it was kinda killing the vibe, actually. Jungkook thought he looked goofy as hell swaying back and forth with his eyes shut like he was trying to summon something otherworldly to kill everyone there.

If it weren't for your pretty face, Jungkook may have accepted that fate.

But instead of bringing it to Taehyung’s attention so he’d have someone to laugh about him with, he moves in a little bit closer with his hands shoved into the pockets of his letterman jacket.

Sure, this ren fair he’s been dragged to was, well, to put it politely, a drag. He felt out of place completely, and because he wasn’t dressed in a pair of tights and wearing a flipping fedora with a feather like fucking robin hood, he was getting strange looks from people.

He would never admit it— but it made Jungkook feel a little bit small. Only just a little, though.

If there was one person in Jungkook’s life he couldn’t bully, it was Taehyung; he had one of the most terrifying poker faces he’d ever seen, even worse than his father’s, and if he were to ever piss him off? Well, he knows what would happen, he’s been on that end of the stick before. Never again.

Taehyung was intense, and some dumb special interest wasn’t going to make Jungkook risk being locked out of his dorm room with nothing but a sock on his cock. Not again. He shivers at the memory.

It haunts him.

Besides, he ought to thank Taehyung for dragging him to this circus, because when he saw you there, he swears his entire world had shifted on its axis— he thinks he may have also forgotten to breathe for a moment, too.

To say he was enthralled with your beauty felt like an understatement, and he had happened to enjoy the pretty music you played. You were humble about it, and you didn’t make any stupid faces while you did it. There’s a slight crease in your brow from concentration, your eyes trained in on your fingers moving gracefully along the strings of your harp. You didn’t seem to care if people were watching or not.

He approached you when the performance was done, asking you for your name and that was that. You learn quickly that you both attended the same college, despite never seeing each other before. It wasn’t that surprising since you both studied completely different things, as well as campus being rather large, too.

Jungkook still had to jump through hoops and hurdles to have you on his arm, though. You had him putting up a decent fight for your affections, being cautious of the fractious jock boy with big, brown eyes and a soft smile that made your tummy do flips. You initially thought there must’ve been some ominous undertones to his intentions. You weren’t a cheerleader and you weren’t in the best shape – you lose your breath every time you climb a flight of stairs – so what did he want with you?

A health science major who happened to secretly be a witch.

Him wanting you was the weird part.

It was rather hilarious to witness but also so incredibly chivalrous of him. He had your favourite flowers delivered to him every Sunday night, wishing you luck for the week ahead. He happened to be a super attentive listener, because it was you, and you actually happened to have some things in common with him. That you didn’t expect.

You were surprised to even learn he majored in music and arts and not something like business or sports medicine. He had seemed like the type, and he had mentioned he was an athlete, so naturally you had assumed.

“Alright, fuck. I didn’t ask for the entire timeline. Holy shit, lady.” Jin groans, holding up his hand to get you to stop talking. “Basically, what I'm getting out of this is that your big dumb ape for a boyfriend bully's his own friends for sport.”

You click your tongue at him, “Can you be serious for like, just a millisecond?”

“I am being serious.” Jin rolls his eyes, dragging you away from the cauldron and over to the table where your spell book is wide open. The pages are worn, slightly yellowed and the writing was in Hebrew. You had obviously tried your best to translate, because another book on the language is sprawled over the table next to it.

What? You may have been a witch, but that didn’t mean you automatically knew how to cast a spell? That was like, totally stereotypical!

Whatever.

“This is a recipe for rabbit’s foot soup.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You whine, dragging your feet over to the black and purple chaise lounge, slumping your body into it. You want to sink into the cushions out of embarrassment. You look over at your brother who is flickering through the pages, wetting his thumb with his tongue as he swipes through them.

“Here.” He taps on the page, rummaging around the mess on your table. You perk up, bouncing up onto your feet again as you go to peak over his shoulder. Lo and behold, in big, bold, gothic letters: Empathy Spell.

You narrow your eyes, which can suddenly read the spell word for word. “Why can I understand it? I flicked through every page and didn’t see a single word that was legible!”

“I just changed the language." Jin shrugs. "It was really easy, actually."

“You can do that?” You gasp, ripping the ancient book from his hands, shoving your face between the pages. “Why didn’t you just say so!”

Jin blinks at you, watching you pace the room as you read the spell under your breath. “She can’t be serious.”

“Wow, this is even easier than the soup recipe.” You raise your brow at the pages, folding it at the corners and shutting it as you walk back over to the cauldron.

“Yeah, but–”

“Thanks Jin, don’t need your help anymore.” You shoo him off with the wave of your hand.

“Y/N–”

“Get out of my room, you pesticide.” You flick your hand toward the door that opens at your silent command.

Jin rubs at his newly throbbing temples, knowing that you were done listening to him entirely. There was no getting through to you when you got into these types of moods.

Sisters, am I right? They only needed you when it was convenient to them.

“Fine!” He grouches, stomping toward your door. “But don’t come running to me when it all falls–” When he steps outside your room you slam the door shut from where you’re standing. “–apart.”

You’re too occupied with re-making the potion you needed in order to successfully cast a spell on you boyfriend to care that he’s pouting.

“Pesticide.” He parrots you with a scoff, “If I’m a pesticide that must make you the pest.” He spits at your closed door, but not loud enough for you to hear him.

He smiles to himself in satisfaction for getting the last laugh, at least that's what he tells himself anyway, before he turns on his heel to go about his day without the thought of his reckless little sister to ruin it.

But of course, that was just not going to happen. You were his little sister; you were always doing something reckless that he knew he’d have to fix for you later.

You are the luckiest sister in the world and he'd be damned if you didn't learn your lesson in regard to that.

He’d also be lying if he didn’t say he sort of enjoyed watching the chaos unfold too, though.

What he was trying to tell you was that because the spell was under the list of broad outcomes, the effects could differ. Which meant that the results would be unexpected.

Which meant that absolutely anything could happen— whatever the universe willed of the situation.

You were too eager, too stubborn to give him just a second to listen. But you were going to see Jungkook in about two hours! You didn’t have that kind of time to waste. It was now or never. And you were doing it for the greater good!

There was only one thing about Jeon Jungkook that wasn’t absolutely perfect, and that was the way he treated Park Jimin.

The moment you get the liquid into the small tube, you basically run all the way to his dorm.

When you knock on his door, he opens it and he’s all grins and you’re all giggles and he’s kisses all over your face.

What happens next wasn’t part of the plan.

Feeding him the potion was easy. You had poured the shot of purple liquid into his Coca-Cola, there was always a can cracked open in his dorm somewhere because he was addicted to the damn stuff, and he had downed his drink the moment he had returned from the bathroom.

You just couldn’t contain the shit-eating grin on your face.

“What is it? Why are you smiling like that?” He scrunches his nose, and you bite into your bottom lip but it only makes your smile look bigger, goofier.

“Nothing my love,” You giggle, standing up from the edge of his bed, throwing your arms loosely around his neck. “I just love you like, alot.” You kiss him, and he sighs into your mouth happily.

How you ended up here, though? Well, that was a complete blur to be honest.

How you wound up as naked as the day you were born, the side of your face pushed deeply into his pillows, ass up in the air. Your face is hot, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass as he spreads your cheeks apart. You whimper with embarrassment.

There was nothing sexy about this.

“I can’t see it, babe.” He sighs, he tilts his head to find your pouting face. “I’m sorry.”

Did you mention that he was naked too? Yeah, you were having sex just a moment prior to this. It was amazing, heavenly even. Until his thrusts became slow when he realised that the condom was no longer snug on his length.

That was why you were currently forcing him to look for it, because where the fuck else would it have gone?

If you weren’t so scary when you were panicking, Jungkook would probably be laughing. It was sort of silly.

But it’s kind of scary when you’re panicking like that. It makes Jungkook panic also.

You huff, flipping yourself onto your back, pressing your thighs against your chest, your arms locking behind your knees. “Keeping looking then!” You grit through your teeth.

Jungkook tries really hard to ignore the way his soft cock was springing back to life.

What? You were his girlfriend, and the way you were contorting your body for him was wildly sexy. It’s too bad it’s not because you want him to fuck you like this.

“Just–” you whine, your heart is racing. “Maybe you could pull it out?” He’s not paying attention. “Jungkook, hello?” You snap one of your fingers in his face, his eyes zeroed in on your pussy that’s still glistening with your juices. He blinks quickly, looking up at you. You’re scowling.

He snaps back into reality.

“Uh, you want me to stick my fingers in there?” His voice comes out an octave higher than he intends it to.

“Yeah, so? You’ve done it hundreds of times before, no?”

Not like this he hasn’t, but he has definitely curled his fingers inside of you more times than he can count on both hands, and he definitely needed all ten fingers to count.

But Jungkook’s hard again and his balls feel heavy. He sucks in a deep breath before he bends into action, one of his hands on your inner thigh as he gets his face close to your vagina and sticks a finger inside you.

You shuffle slightly at the feeling, but the room remains dead quiet. This was serious business, so that meant it was time for him to get his damn mind out of the gutter.

He swallows thickly as he feels around your spongey walls, but to no avail. “I– I don’t feel anything.” If the feeling of you contracting around his finger didn’t count.

A panicked whine leaves your lips as Jungkook pulls his finger out, staring in awe at his slick-coated finger. He doesn’t pay any mind to the way you’re rushing around, picking up your discarded clothes from all corners of the room.

He doesn’t pay attention to you, still completely focused on his finger. Not until you fall back onto his bed, now fully clothed. He wipes his finger on his bare thigh, reaching for his underwear to tuck away his genitals which have unfortunately been deprived of the wonderland that was your body. Better luck next time.

“Are you okay, baby?” The bed dips beside you when he sits down again. Your hands are pressed deeply into your face. You feel like clawing your eyes out.

“Well, someone’s gonna have to get it out of me.” You toss your hands off your face, throwing them beside you in a fit of dramatics.

“Okay, let me go with you.” He shrugs.

“You don’t have to.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, blowing at a strand piece of hair that falls over your face. “I don’t wanna burden you or anything. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Nah, I’m never too busy for you.” He leans down to kiss your cheek. “Also, if I go with you, I can soften the blow. They’ll just look at me and go, so this is the dipstick that got a condom stuck inside his girlfriend, and they’ll feel bad for you. Over and done with!” He smiles at you as if it was the most genius thing he had ever said.

You narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t find it in you to be annoyed with him. He’s your little genius.

Sitting in the waiting area, it’s Jungkook’s leg that’s bouncing uncontrollably. You have one of your legs crossed over a knee, lightly kicking as you hum casually to yourself. You had calmed down considerably since walking in, and nobody had looked at your, or Jungkook, strangely for being there. You have to put your hand on his thigh for him to stop. You rest your head on his shoulder while you wait.

“Do you want me to come in?”

“It’s fine, baby. I don’t even know if you’re allowed.”

He ends up in the room with you around ten minutes later, you’re squeezing his hand so tight he thinks you’re cutting off his blood circulation. You’re shaking as the clamp digs around inside of you, scraping at your walls uncomfortably.

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be over soon.” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to your forehead. You pant quickly as she pulls the cold contraption out of you slowly, as to not long let the condom loose from the grasp it has on the condom.

It’s barely been five minutes.

“All done!” The nurse smiles brightly at you, bidding you goodbye just as quickly as she had greeted you both into the room.

“Cool.” Jungkook grins, throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close to him to kiss your hair. “See? Over in a flash.”

You’re walking hand-in-hand out of the OBGYN, no longer clogged by a condom, when Jungkook tells you he needs to collect some notes from Jimin.

He had claimed that art history was the bane of his existence, and his failure to retain information he didn’t give a squat about had made it hard for him to do well. There were parts here and there that piqued his interest, but Jungkook just wanted to put his pencil to the paper. In fact, he would do just that and spend the time sketching doodles into the book he’s meant to be writing notes inside of. Jimin also happened to be in said art history class.

That’s how you ended up in the library, sitting across from Jimin, who’s jotting down notes for Jungkook. You rest your chin in your palms with your elbows propped up atop the table, watching your boyfriend swipe the glasses from Jimin’s face, squinting as he looks through the prescription lenses.

Jimin chuckles, a shy smile on his lips. “Give them back, Jungkook.”

“No can do– ah crap, that’s hella blurry.” He swipes them off his own face, passing them over to you. “Try babe.”

Jimin keeps his head down, only passing you a fleeting, unreadable, glance. You deflate at the lack of attention he gives you. He had been nice to Jungkook but very blunt with you.

Even when Jungkook pushed down on his pen to cause him to scribble over the page. He only sighs, “That wasn’t funny, Kook.” He deadpans.

Kook? You don’t even call him that. You call your boyfriend a plethora of other things: Honey, baby, babe, Koo even, but. This was a nickname exclusive to Jimin apparently. You lean back in your chair in observation.

“Here.” He shoves the notebook into Jungkook’s chest, barely able to hold eye contact with him.

“Wicked! You’re a legend, Park.” He pulls him into a side hug, pressing a playful kiss to the top of his head. He blushes. “Owe you one.” He pushes the chair back and stands up, flipping his pen out of his hands on the way out. It goes flying but Jimin’s eyes follow him, your curious one’s going unnoticed by him as you watch the way Jimin ogles your boyfriend.

Okay. You see, now. That sure makes sense.

“C’mon babe.” He rubs at your back, giving you a shameless smack to your behind that makes you yelp as the two of you leave Jimin back to his studies. You give him a once over, looking back at him to see him still watching the both of you, he drops his head the moment you catch him, scratching the back of his head.

You look up at your boyfriend with a pout. It was so clear to you now, having seen it unfold up close. Was it why he teased him so much? Did he know about it? No, surely, he would have told you all about it if he did, like he did with everything else he knew or learnt new.

He had told you all about Taehyung’s fluidity with his sexuality. He was unconventional in every sense of the world, and very unashamed about it too— it was admirable in this day and age. There was nothing wrong with loving whoever you wanted to love.

Jungkook had admitted that at first, he had felt a little uncomfortable but realised it didn’t change the fact that Taehyung was still Taehyung no matter what he decided to do in his spare time, and you were so glad he saw it that way.

You wish the rest of society would see it that way.

Taehyung would flirt shamelessly with not only you, even though he gets scolded by Jungkook for it over and over again, but literally anyone else with a pair of legs. That didn’t mean he was easy, no, not in the slightest— he was far from it, actually. It just meant he knew when someone looked good and wasn’t afraid to make that known. The only person that was exempt from his excessive flirtatiousness was Jungkook.

“Ew, that would be like…being with my brother or something.” Is what he says when you ask him about it one night, the three of you had cracked open two bottles of wine to share between you. “Besides, you’re much prettier…”

“Cool it, Taehyung.” Jungkook warns, smacking him at the back of his head. You shuffled closer to your boyfriend.

Maybe Jimin wasn’t as open about it as Taehyung was? You hardly blame him because, well, you knew as well as anyone how lucky you were to call Jungkook yours. But…it still didn’t excuse the way he just took Jungkook’s less-than-kind behaviour toward him. Still, you can understand a little clearer now as to why he did.

Or maybe you’re just overthinking this completely, maybe he was just meek and scared of a beat down. But they also seemed quite comfortable aside from the fact? They have known each other for a long time after all.

You spend the night in Jungkook’s dorm room, lost in your thoughts, his heavy arm draped over your waist. You’ve long kicked the blankets off yourself because his body was too hot against you because you don’t want to move him off you. He always whined and asked you why you didn’t love him. He was needy and overly affectionate despite his overall nonchalance towards life.

Eventually the soft sound of his breaths as he sleeps soundly beside you allows you to fall asleep.

You’re no stranger to morning wood; you had been woken up by it pretty much every morning you spent sleeping next to him. What you’re not used to is the heavy weight you feel on your crotch, a sensitive throb building up inside you. Why are you horny at the butt crack of dawn? You’re never aroused when you wake up, always swatting Jungkook away from you when he starts rutting against your ass.

But you feel him in front of you, and that was unusual because Jungkook hated being the little spoon. You groan when you attempt to sit up, sleep still riddling your sight. Your entire body hurts, your head throbs.

“Bab–“ Your mouth shuts the moment your voice leaves it. You hand reaches for your throat. Why did your voice come out so deep?

When your vision straightens out, and you look down at your boyfriend you let out the most blood curdling scream you can muster.

It sends him gasping in fear, rolling off the bed to get away from the noise. When he looks at you to complain, his eyes only widen, and he slowly lifts his finger to point at you.

“Babe?”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“Why am I looking at myself right now?” He taps at his throat, your throat, the same way you had earlier. He looks down at his new body. It’s your body. “Oh, what the hell?”

You feel lightheaded, you can feel tears welling up in your eyes “Koo…?” You’re sluggish when you call out for him, your vision is blurring again. “Oh god.” Your body begins to tip over.

He scrambles to the edge of the bed to catch you, but shudders at the thought of touching himself. Your head hits the pillow anyway.

Jungkook clambers into the bed next to you, unsure how to comfort you when you look like, well, him. So instead, he just waits beside you, stretching out his limbs, wriggling his toes as he comes to terms with what’s happening. Honestly, he feels as light as a feather right now, and–

His hands tap around the body he knows so well, an experimental hand feeling up his torso, and…bingo.

Your tits.

“Wild.” He huffs out an amused breath. His hands dropping after giving them a gentle squeeze.

He falls back into the mattress, his hands resting behind his head, leg crossed over the other as he relaxes into the mattress with a heavy sigh.

If there was one thing Jungkook could say that he loved about you, it was that there was never a boring day spent with you.

331 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 5 days ago

Text

im in love with these silly knitted dogs

26K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 5 days ago

Text

OUT OF LINE | 02

˗ˏˋ where promises go to die ˎˊ˗

"Grief doesn't rot like lilies—it evolves. Sometimes into walls that keep everyone out, sometimes into bridges you never expected to build. Madrid is teaching you the difference."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 8.5k

content: grief processing, mother's death aftermath, ferret therapy, university friendship dynamics, barcelona nostalgia, jungkook brotherly comfort, provocative physio session, inappropriate medical sounds, taehyung being insufferable on purpose, whatsapp group chat chaos, nike dinner setup, family obligation pressure, madrid vs barcelona culture clash

—author's note

Hello monsters, gremlins, goblins, and yes—you, the one under the table hoarding the peanut cookies like they're State Secrets. You've been reported to the Kiki Nation High Tribunal. Formal charges include: cookie hoarding, suspicious crunching noises, and bribing witnesses with chocolate chip alternatives. Justice will be served. Possibly with milk.

Now, AS FOR THIS CHAPTER. AHAHAAHA. Okay. So.

Right out the gate we start with That Scene. You'll know when you see it. Some of you may be tempted to go "Kiki why did you put your entire kikussy into poetic and ambiguous language???" and to that I say: THANK YOU FOR ASKING, MR. INVISIBLE. You see—my girl Y/N is grieving. And not in the cinematic way, but in that awful, quiet, dissonant way. The kind where everything looks almost normal, sounds almost right, but you're not in it. That suspended, floaty, untethered state where you're just... drifting. I wrote this opening with the intent to evoke, not explain. Because I don't think grief—real grief—ever makes clean narrative sense. It's messy. It loops. It aches. It dissociates. So her inner monologue reflects that.

BUT. I didn't want it to be bleak. So I slipped in a little light: female friendship. You guys know how much I value it. Sofia Chen = my babygirl already. Her screen time may be short but her impact is earthquaking. Also: brace yourselves for the physio intern. I'm not spoiling anything but AAAAA. The little scream I let out when writing him was medically concerning. Just know you're gonna love him. I do. I really do.

Then there's that Taehyung scene. The physio session. Yeah. That one.

Okay so—Coke Zero? TRACK IT. It is not a throwaway. Put it in your mental detective wall with the red string. That detail's doing work.

Now let's talk about what's really happening in that scene: you've got a man weaponizing his body as a final line of defense. He can't stand the thought of being unimpressive—of someone not reacting to him. So what does he do? He performs. Gets obscene. Pushes boundaries. Pokes at discomfort. He's like: if you don't like my mind, my attitude, my words—then at least flinch for my abs. Validate me with your silence, if nothing else. And she doesn't. And it bothers him. He's fishing. And if that doesn't tell you everything about the man's psyche—Listen. I said what I said.

Also. Can we collectively scream about how every private university is just a glorified capitalist PR firm?? I wanted to reflect that weird, fake "we're all a happy family :)" collaboration tone between institutions. The smiley emoji energy that reeks of Excel spreadsheets and nepotism. If you know, you know.

Finally: THE GROUP CHAT SCENE. My ✨ magnum opus ✨ Marco is literally an idiot and possibly irredeemable but I hate how funny he is. It's the banter. The banter is what gets him laid. Leo = my Shayla. I want to protect him so bad. Who knows if I will. Point is—I loved being able to start showing more team names and dynamics. There's something really special about letting a cast feel lived in. You're only seeing glimpses—but those glimpses are building a very specific emotional architecture for what's to come.

ANYWAY. That's enough from me. Enjoy the chapter. Scream in the tags. Track the Coke Zero. And for the love of Jungkook's tattoos, STOP HIDING THE PEANUT COOKIES. I SEE YOU.

– Kiki ♡

— read on

read author intro + tws (must)

lineverse guide

between the lines (jk’s story by @writesvani)

read on wattpad

read on ao3

Kiki Nation’s discussion thread for this chapter

Where do promises go when left unattended?

You wonder if they rot, like lilies left too long in water. Or if they just fade, the way the scent of your mother's perfume used to linger in the hallway—now gone, replaced by the sterile tang of Madrid tap water and overpriced detergent.

It's a question you've long buried, somewhere between the unpacked boxes in your Madrid bedroom and the ache that still sits heavy when you think of your dad's tired eyes.

Or maybe it's bigger than that—your whole damn life, a scrapbook of sweet nothings you swore you'd keep. Staying in Barcelona. Holding tight to Mom's hand in memory. Rooting for a team that felt more like family when yours got ripped in half.

Death didn't just knock that day; it kicked the door down, left the air thick with something sour, like rotting lilies.

Mom used to fill the house with them.

White ones from the market on Sundays, yellow ones she'd steal from the neighbor's garden when she thought no one was looking.

Now you can't walk past a flower shop without your throat closing up, without that familiar knot threatening to crawl up and spill everything you've been swallowing down.

University isn't the escape you hoped for. Not the endless readings on joint mechanics, not the sterile newness of a city that still feels like a borrowed coat, and definitely not the present, which drags like a bad hangover.

You're two weeks into this Madrid experiment, and every day is a reminder of what's gone.

But then, somehow, there are people. Small, unexpected pockets of something lighter that make it easier.

You just never expected easiness to have a name like Sofia Chen.

You're slouched in a lecture hall at UEM, campus filled with the kind of international crowd that makes you feel both invisible and exposed. End of September, semester just kicking off, and the air's got that crisp edge that doesn't match the heat still clinging to the streets outside.

Sofia's next to you, scribbling in her notebook with a focus that's almost annoying. Almost. Meanwhile you—well, you're scrolling through your phone, thumb flicking over a screen that's stubbornly empty of anything worth reading.

No messages from Dani.

Not that you expected any.

You told yourself the distance—geographical, emotional, whatever—would be the perfect excuse to untangle the mess of feelings you've carried for him since you were sixteen. Unreciprocated, unspoken, and now, unnecessary.

Doesn't stop the sting, though. Expected hurt still hurts.

Your fingers drift to Jungkook's chat instead. A few unread messages, probably memes or some random check-in. He's the only thing that feels like home lately, a tether to Barcelona that hasn't snapped yet.

You don't open it. Not here. Not with Sofia's voice cutting through your haze.

"I have never seen anyone our age swallow down those in twos like you do," she mumbles, not looking up from her notes when her pen scratches against the paper, somehow grounding.

You know she's talking about the pikotas in your hand, the sour-sweet candies you've been popping absentmindedly.

Two at a time, always. A habit from forever ago, when Mom would slip them into your pocket before school.

You don't miss a beat, tossing another pair into your mouth. "Just say you have horrible taste."

She snorts, finally glancing over. Her dark hair falls in a neat curtain over one shoulder, and her eyes crinkle just enough to show she's not actually judging.

"I'm half Chinese. Taste is like, our whole point."

You roll your eyes, but there's a smirk tugging at your lips.

Sofia's got a way of sneaking past your usual walls, not with force but with this quiet, persistent ease.

You met her two weeks ago, first day of classes, when the semester started and you were still figuring out how to navigate the sleek, expensive campus. Because it's just the kind of place that screams privilege—private, international, one of the most expensive universities in Spain, all courses in English to cater to the global mix of students who can afford it.

You were sitting alone in the back of a lecture hall, trying to blend into the polished wood and glass, when she plopped down next to you. No hesitation, just a quick "Mind if I sit?" and a grin that didn't wait for your answer.

She clocked your last name on your notebook, matched it to the buzz about your dad being Real Madrid's new physio, and didn't make a big deal of it. Just nodded like it was trivia, not gossip.

You appreciated that more than you let on.

Since then, she's been a constant. Study sessions in the campus library, coffee runs at the overpriced café downstairs, late-night texts about assignments. She's Madrid-born, Chinese-Spanish, a sports psychology major with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue when she wants. She knows about your dad's job, knows you're fresh off the boat from Barcelona, and hasn't pushed for details.

That's why you don't mind her sitting here, filling the silence with her quiet banter while you chew through candy and memories.

Madrid's like that. Too much of everything—light, noise, space—and none of it fits right.

Not like Barcelona did, with its narrower streets and warmer shadows.

Still, at UEM, you're just another face in a sea of ambitious twenty-somethings, most of whom couldn't care less about football. Real Madrid, Barcelona—it's not their world. They're chasing MBAs, tech startups, international law degrees.

That, however, does not mean they don't know who Kim Taehyung is.

"Hey, speaking of taste—or lack thereof—have you seen the news this weekend? That whole scandal with Real Madrid's golden boy? Taehyung?"

Fuck Sofia for ruining your peace. You take all the good things you said about her back.

Of course she'd bring it up. Not because she's obsessed with football—most people here aren't—but because Taehyung's mess is everywhere. A superstar, a celebrity, the kind of hot that has women tripping over themselves and brands clawing for a piece of him.

His whole 'can't keep it in his pants' routine isn't even a flaw to most; it's charm, a marketable quirk that somehow makes him more desirable.

You've seen the headlines (who hasn't?), the grainy party pics, the lipstick smear on his neck that's got half of Madrid's press losing their minds.

Nike's 'concerned,' apparently.

You doubt he cares.

You shrug, keeping your face blank. "Yeah, I saw. Not exactly news when it's him."

Sofia raises a brow, catching the edge in your tone.

She doesn't know about your first run-in with him, the way he loomed at the training ground like he owned the air itself, expecting you to melt under his gaze; and you… Didn't.

Just stared back, flat and unimpressed, until he looked almost confused.

Which was honestly refreshing. He needs to get humbled.

But Sofia doesn't need that story, not yet. You're not sure why it even sticks in your head. It's not like he matters.

"Fair," she says, tapping her pen against her chin. "Still, it's wild. Guy's got the world at his feet, and he's out there acting like a frat boy on spring break. My psych prof would have a field day with his impulse control—or lack of it."

You huff a small laugh, more out of habit than amusement. "Probably. But it's not like anyone's surprised. That's just… him."

Her eyes narrow a fraction, like she's filing that comment away for later. You don't like how she does that, reads the unsaid stuff in your pauses. Makes you feel seen in ways you're not ready for.

You pop another pikota, let the sour bite ground you.

The lecture hall's still noisy, a guy two rows down arguing with his friend in rapid-fire German, a girl across the aisle snapping a selfie with her overpriced latte.

Normal. Disconnected from the football bubble you've been dragged into.

You wish you could stay in this pocket of mundane forever, where no one cares about football or your dad's job or the way some prick keeps jostling his dick around like it's a birthday party and his junk is a gift.

Your phone buzzes on the desk, screen lighting up with Jungkook's name.

A distraction. A lifeline.

A… video of a ferret stealing an entire sock drawer, dragging socks one by one to build a nest?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

You snort—actually snort—loud enough that Sofia looks up from her notebook with raised eyebrows.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚋𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚊𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚝𝚠?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚏𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾𝙾𝙾

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚌 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 🤔

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜

You pause, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He's talking about you, obviously. Those stupid chocolate croissants from the Barcelona training facility café that you'd get genuinely upset about when they sold out.

It feels like a lifetime ago—back when your biggest worry was missing breakfast pastries, not navigating the social minefield of Madrid's elite football culture.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

You swallow thickly, staring at your screen for a couple seconds.

Because Jungkook's always been good at checking in without making it feel like an interrogation. He knows you well enough to understand that direct questions about your emotional state will get deflected, but asking about Madrid in general? That's safe territory.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚊𝚍'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗?

You chew the inside of your cheek, watching Sofia highlight something in yellow marker.

How do you explain that Madrid feels like wearing clothes that don't fit? That every day feels like you're playing a role you never auditioned for? That you miss the easy warmth of Barcelona so much it physically hurts sometimes?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚘𝚑 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚒

Sofia waves at your phone like Jungkook can see her, which makes you roll your eyes.

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝙷𝙸 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙰

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚒 𝙰𝙼 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚒 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚒'𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 ��𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚒'𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚒

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢

Your heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when Dani gets mentioned.

Even now, even with Carla, even with the distance and the time and the rational knowledge that your teenage crush was exactly that—teenage and over.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚍'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚒s

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘𝚘

No, he didn't.

It's easier to pretend he didn't.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚎'𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎?

You know exactly what you're asking.

He knows too, judging by the way the writing dots disappear two times before his next reply.

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚗𝚊𝚑

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗…?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎? 👀

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖?

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 🙄

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒'𝚖 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞

The homesickness comes and crashes like a tidal wave.

It never quite goes away, the ache for the people who knew you before Madrid, before everything got complicated.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚍'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚢

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚞𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚍𝚘

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚓𝚔

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚜

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢

Family.

Something warm settles in your chest.

Not the grief, not the homesickness, but something warmer.

A reminder that distance doesn't erase the connections that matter.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝

𝐉𝐊💙❤️: ❤️

You set your phone down, a sigh escaping your lips.

Madrid's still foreign, and two weeks in, and you're still mourning. Not just Mom, though that's a wound that never scabs over. It's Barcelona too. The team, the culture, the way Camp Nou felt like a second home. The way Dani smiled without agenda, the way Jungkook teased like a brother.

You're in Madrid by accident, by necessity, and every white jersey you see feels like a betrayal.

But then there's Sofia, a small, stubborn reminder that not everything here has to hurt.

You chew another candy, slower this time. Let the sourness linger.

Promises might wither when left alone, but maybe, just maybe, some things grow in their place.

You're not ready to name it. Not ready to trust it.

But for now, sitting here with Sofia's quiet scribbling as your backdrop, it's enough to keep you from sinking.

Traffic in Madrid is apparently a personal vendetta against punctuality.

Your dad's running twenty minutes late because some jackass decided the M-40 was the perfect place for a fender bender, which means you're here. Setting up his station. Organizing equipment you could identify with your eyes closed because you've been watching him work since you could walk.

The physio room's too clean, too sterile, too Real Madrid.

The Barcelona facility had character—scuff marks on the walls, that one massage table with the slightly wobbly leg that everyone avoided, the persistent smell of Bengay that had seeped into the paint over fifteen years.

This place looks like it was designed by people who've never actually treated an injury.

You're sorting through resistance bands when Namjoon appears in the doorway, looking like he's lost a fight with his textbooks. Again.

"Your dad said you might be here," he says, adjusting his glasses. "Traffic's insane out there."

Right. Namjoon.

You met him exactly nine days ago when he wandered into the wrong lecture hall and ended up sitting through your Sports Medicine seminar. Turned out he was supposed to be in another class but was too polite to leave once he realized his mistake. Also turned out he's doing his practicum here, shadowing the medical staff twice a week.

Small world. Smaller when your dad's the new guy everyone wants to impress.

"He's stuck near Cuatro Caminos," you say, testing the tension on an elastic band. "Should be here soon."

"Need help with anything?"

You gesture at the perfectly organized equipment. "It's just busy work. Dad's paranoid about first impressions."

Namjoon nods like he understands the pressure of being the new guy. Which he probably does, considering he transferred here from Seoul and still looks slightly shell-shocked by Spanish bureaucracy.

"I'll be in the film room if you need anything," he says. "Marco's apparently having issues with his hip flexor and wants to review some footage."

Of course Marco has issues. Guy probably pulled something showing off for whatever Instagram model he's currently terrorizing.

Namjoon disappears, leaving you alone with the antiseptic smell and the growing certainty that helping your dad was a mistake.

You should be back at UEM, pretending to study while Sofia explains the philosophical implications of biochemical reactions.

Instead, you're here. Instead, you're in enemy territory. Organizing equipment for people who think Barcelona is a quaint regional hobby.

The door opens again.

"Thought I saw the physio's…" The voice trails off.

You know that voice. Heard it exactly one week ago, asking if you knew his name like that was supposed to matter.

You don't look up. Keep sorting through the massage oils like they require your complete attention.

"…Daughter," Taehyung finishes, giving the Coke Zero in his hand one last sip. "Interesting."

"Riveting," you say to the bottles of arnica gel. "There's a Nobel Prize in it somewhere."

He laughs. Actually laughs, like you've said something amusing instead of dismissive. Then, leaves the can on the furniture near the door.

You look up.

Grave mistake.

He's shirtless again because of course he is. Apparently shirts are optional in his world, a suggestion rather than a requirement. Fresh scratch marks across his back, angry red lines that tell a very obvious story about his weekend activities.

Classy.

"Something wrong with your scapula?" you ask, because that's why people come here—medical issues.

Not to parade around half-naked making small talk with staff daughters.

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess."

He moves closer, traces of whatever shampoo he uses lingering in the air. It reminds you of lemons… And something else that's probably pheromones or whatever evolutionary bullshit makes objectively terrible men attractive to people with functioning ovaries.

"Your dad around?"

"Running late." You cap the massage oil, set it back in its designated spot. "You can wait."

"Or you could take a look."

You blink. "I'm not a physiotherapist."

"You know what you're doing." He's already settling onto the massage table, lying face down like the decision's been made. "Study the same stuff as your dad, should be the same no?"

"It's really not."

"How?"

Because studying and actually doing the work with your own hands is essentially different.

Because med students are not doctors.

And physio students aren't either.

But explaining that to Kim Taehyung would mean talking to a toddler. And you have better things to do than waste breath on a manchild.

"Because."

"Compelling argument."

You could leave. Should leave. Let him wait for your dad like a normal person.

But maybe it's the way he's so entitled, and acts like so. Maybe it's the need to put him in his place—especially when you don't even know where yours is.

So, you wash your hands.

"Where's the pain?"

"Right side. Under the shoulder blade. Been bothering me since Saturday."

Saturday. When he was making headlines for all the wrong reasons. When those scratch marks were being carved into his back by whatever random woman decided he was worth the trouble.

You approach the table, professional, detached. Just like you've seen Dad do a hundred million times before.

You place your hands on his back, feeling for tension, knots, the specific kind of tightness that comes from overcompensation.

His skin is warm. Firm.

The scratch marks are raised under your fingers, evidence of Saturday night's adventures literally written across his shoulders.

"Here?" You press against the scapula, finding the knot immediately.

"Mmm." The sound is low, almost a purr. "Yeah, right there."

You ignore the way he says it. Focus on the muscle. The problem. The solution.

"Probably compensation," you say, working your thumbs in small circles. "You favor your right side when you tackle. Puts extra stress on the stabilizing muscles."

"Hmmm." Another noise, drawn out and definitely unnecessary. "That feels… really good."

Your hands pause. "Are you making those sounds on purpose?"

"What sounds?"

But he's grinning into the table. You can hear it in his voice.

"The porn sounds."

"I don't know what you mean."

You resume working, digging deeper into the knot. He needs to learn that his little games don't work on everyone.

"Ah," he breathes when you hit a particularly tight spot. "Oh, fuck, that's—"

"Can you not?"

"Not what?"

"Sound like you're getting jerked off."

He turns his head, looking at you over his shoulder with that smirk that probably gets him everything he wants.

"Is that what it sounds like?"

"It sounds like you're doing it on purpose."

"Maybe I am."

"Well, don't."

He simply glances at you, smirk plastered all over his face.

You work in silence for a few minutes, focusing on the actual muscle tension instead of the idiot attached to it. The knot's stubborn, layers of compensation built up over weeks of training and whatever he does in his spare time that leaves scratch marks.

"Your weekend activities aren't helping," you say, pressing harder than strictly necessary.

"Mmhm." Another deliberate sound. "My weekend activities are very… thorough."

"I mean the scratches. They're affecting your posture."

"Ah." Like you've just told him something profound instead of basic anatomy. "The scratches."

"Unless you're wrestling with cats, you might want to tell your… companions… to be more careful."

He laughs, and you feel it vibrate through his back under your hands.

"I'll pass along the feedback."

The muscle finally starts to give, tension releasing under sustained pressure. You move your hands to the surrounding area, checking for related knots, secondary compensation patterns.

"Oh," he breathes when you hit another tight spot. "Yeah, that's… mmm."

"Jesus Christ."

"What?"

"Do you have to narrate everything?"

"I'm appreciative." His voice is muffled by the table but you can still hear the amusement. "Sue me for having good manners."

"This isn't appreciation. This you auditioning for a porno."

"Can't it be both?"

You press your elbow into the knot. Hard.

He chokes on whatever smart-ass comment he was about to make.

"Better," you say flatly.

"Fuck, okay, point taken."

The thing about Taehyung is that he's predictable. He pushes until he finds resistance, then pushes harder to see what happens.

Classic spoiled rich boy behavior—no understanding of boundaries because no one's ever enforced any.

You've met his type before. Barcelona had them too, though they usually had the decency to pretend they weren't entitled assholes.

"Turn around."

He does, and now you're face to face with his chest. Which is. Well. It's a chest. Perfectly sculpted, golden skin, the kind of definition that suggests both excellent genetics and obsessive gym habits.

You've seen better.

(That's a lie, but you're committed to it.)

"The problem's in your back," you say, positioning your hands on his shoulders from the front. "You're compensating with your anterior muscles."

"My what now?"

"Front muscles. Keep up."

He grins at that, like you've just confirmed some theory he's been testing.

"So you're saying I've been working too hard?"

"I'm saying you've been working wrong."

Your hands find the tight spots along his clavicle, pressing into the muscle tissue with more force than strictly necessary.

Indeed, he makes another sound—something between a gasp and a moan—and you seriously consider just walking out.

"That's definitely gonna leave marks," he says, looking down at where your thumbs are digging into his skin.

"Good. Maybe you'll remember proper form."

"Oh, I'll remember this."

The way he says it makes your skin crawl.

Not because it's gross—which it is—but because it sounds like he genuinely means it.

Which is worse, somehow.

You finish the treatment in relative silence, mostly because you've perfected the art of selective hearing. He tries a few more times to get a reaction, but you're done giving attention to his stupidities.

"Ice it for twenty minutes when you get home," you say, stepping back and washing your hands again. "Anti-inflammatories if the pain persists."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

You're already moving toward the sink, washing your hands again because touching him feels like it requires immediate sanitization.

"Your dad teach you anything else?"

"How to bill insurance companies."

He laughs. Again. Like you're actually funny instead of just sarcastic.

"Useful skill."

You dry your hands, not letting him out of your periphery because it feels dangerous, somehow. He's sitting behind you on the table. Shirtless. Fixed.

Still there.

Can he leave?

"Was there something else?"

"Just curious."

"About what?"

"You."

You muster all the oxygen in the room one breath. Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.

"There's nothing to be curious about."

"I doubt that."

You turn around. He's still sitting on the table, legs dangling like a kid at the doctor's office. Except kids don't usually look like they've been sculpted by people with advanced degrees in human anatomy.

"I'm the physio's daughter. That's it. That's the whole story."

"The physio's daughter who transfers from Barcelona and acts like Real Madrid personally wronged her family."

"I don't act like anything."

"You act like we killed your dog."

"You didn't kill my dog."

"But you hate us anyway."

The worst thing is—he doesn't ask it like a question, just states it like it's a fact. Like he knows more than you're letting on.

"I don't hate anyone."

"Liar."

He doesn't know you enough to accuse you like that, especially when it's imbued in such friendly tone, like he's commenting on your coffee order instead of calling out your entire emotional state.

"I don't know you well enough to hate you."

"But you know enough to disapprove."

"I disapprove of a lot of things."

"Such as?"

"People who think the world revolves around them."

He grins. "Guilty."

"People who can't take a hint."

"Also guilty."

"People who make everything about sex."

"Depends on your definition of everything."

You stare at him. He stares back, completely unashamed. Like this is normal conversation instead of him basically admitting to being exactly the kind of person you despise.

"You're unbelievable."

"Thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I know."

He slides off, and it's always like this—moving like he's never doubted his welcome anywhere. Casually arrogant, lazily confident.

He's standing now, fingers tapping against the table in that absurd manner of people trying to look sexy.

Whether it works, you're not gonna comment.

But your dad's equipment suddenly feels very small, the space between you measured in inches instead of feet.

"I should go," he says, but doesn't move.

"Yes. You should."

He reaches for his shirt, hanging on a nearby chair. But instead of putting it on, he steps closer. Close enough that you can see the exact color of his eyes, the way his hair falls across his forehead, the small scar near his left eyebrow that probably has a story you don't want to know.

His hand moves, casual and way too quick, slipping into the pocket of your hoodie before you can react.

"Think I'll be borrowing one of these."

He pulls out a pikota, examining it like it's a rare artifact instead of candy you buy at any corner store.

"Those are mine."

"I know." He pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Sour. Interesting choice."

"Give it back."

"Can't. Already eaten."

"The rest of them."

"Finders keepers."

He's still standing too close, looking down at you with that smirk that suggests he knows exactly how inappropriate this is and doesn't care.

"Besides," he says, finally stepping back, "now I know what to call you."

"My name is—"

"Gominola."

Your brows knit in disbelief. There's just no way—no way—that Real Madrid's number two, Kim Taehyung, the arrogant prick standing in front of you, had the audacity to cut you off mid-name… only to nickname you Gominola.

"That's not my name."

"It is now."

He pulls on his shirt, covering the scratch marks and the evidence of whatever he does when he's not being a professional athlete.

"See you around, Gominola."

He's gone before you can respond—so you settle for cursing him inwardly, instead of outwardly.

But not quite gone.

Because the Coke Zero can is still sitting there on the counter like a monument to his casual disrespect for other people's spaces. Empty. Sweating condensation onto the pristine surface of your dad's equipment station.

Of course.

"Your trash," you call out, voice flat.

He pauses in the doorway, glances back at the can like he's seeing it for the first time.

"That's what you're here for, no?"

The audacity. The absolute fucking audacity.

"I'm not your maid."

"Hmmm… No?" He shrugs, casual as breathing. "Organizing equipment, cleaning up after people. Very maid-adjacent activities."

You stare at him. He stares back.

Neither of you moves.

Your eyebrow twitches—just once, a microscopic flicker of irritation that you can't quite suppress. It's involuntary. Reflexive. The kind of tell that gives away more than you'd like.

But he catches it. Of course he does.

"I like that," he says, leaning against the doorframe like he's settling in for a show. "That little frown you get. Right there." He gestures vaguely at your face. "Makes you look real cute when you're pissed off."

Cute.

He called you cute.

Like you're some pet that's learned a new trick. Like your irritation exists for his entertainment.

"Fascinating. I'll add that to the list of things I don't care about."

"Long list?"

"You'd be surprised."

He grins so bright, for a second you wonder if you just complimented his mother instead of basically telling him to fuck off.

"You know what? Keep the can." He straightens up, preparing to leave for real this time. "Consider it a memento."

"Of what?"

"Today. This conversation. The first time you touched me."

Your skin crawls inwards. Because the way he says it? It's not only sexual—though it definitely is—but it also sounds like he's already planning the sequel.

"It was a medical procedure."

"If you say so, Gomi."

And then he's actually gone, leaving you alone with his trash, his stupid nickname, and the lingering scent of lemons that somehow makes the entire room feel smaller.

You grab the can. Toss it in the bin with more force than strictly necessary.

The metal clangs against the sides, echoing in the silence.

Your eyebrow's still twitching.

Cute. Right.

You make a mental note to practice better facial control.

The last thing you need is Kim Taehyung thinking he has any effect on you whatsoever.

The thing about expensive universities is that they love attaching corporate logos to everything.

Like slapping a Nike swoosh on your degree somehow makes the crushing student debt more palatable. Or maybe it's the other way around—Nike gets to pretend they care about education while really just hunting for the next generation of athletes to exploit.

Either way, you're sitting in a lecture hall that's way too big listening to Professor García explain why this is such an 'incredible opportunity.'

"Nike has graciously agreed to sponsor a networking event for our Sports Science students," he says, gesturing at a PowerPoint slide that's probably older than some of the freshman. "This is exactly the kind of industry connection that makes UEM graduates so sought after."

You chew a pikota. Slowly. Let the sour-sweet dissolve on your tongue while Sofia scribbles notes like this is information worth remembering.

Corporate networking events.

Your favorite.

Right up there with root canals and Real Madrid training sessions.

"The event will be held next Friday at seven PM," he continues, clicking to the next slide. "Cocktail attire. Representatives from Nike's European division will be there, along with several prominent figures from Madrid's sports community."

Sofia elbows you. "This could be huge for internships."

"Thrilling," you say, not looking up from your notebook where you're not taking notes. Just doodling. Tiny ferrets stealing socks from faceless businessmen in suits.

"I'm serious. Nike sponsors half the football world. Imagine the connections."

The problem with Sofia is that she still believes in the system. Still thinks that networking and handshakes and business cards will somehow lead to meaningful careers instead of just more meetings with people who think they're important.

You've seen the system. Lived adjacent to it your entire life.

It's mostly bullshit wrapped in expensive suits.

"Plus," Sofia adds, leaning closer, "it's not like you have anything else going on Friday night."

What you hate about Sofia is that she is, often, not wrong.

And this time, she isn't either.

Your social calendar consists of studying, texting Jungkook, and watching your ferrets commit small crimes against your furniture.

Hardly the stuff of legends.

"Representatives from Madrid's sports community," you repeat, finally looking up. "That's vague."

"Probably Real Madrid players," says the guy sitting in front of you. Miguel something. Rich kid with a trust fund and opinions about everything. "My dad knows someone at Nike. Says they've got some big partnership thing happening."

Of course they do.

Because apparently there's no corner of your life that Real Madrid can't invade.

Not university. Not home. Not even corporate networking events that should theoretically have nothing to do with football.

"You okay?" Sofia asks, probably noticing the way your jaw's gone tight.

"Fine."

But you're not fine. You're calculating the odds that you can skip this thing without Professor García noticing. Or caring.

Except that would mean explaining to Sofia why you're suddenly allergic to networking events. Which would mean explaining about the move from Barcelona. Which would mean explaining things you don't have words for yet.

So instead you nod. Smile. Pretend like the thought of spending an evening making small talk with Real Madrid players doesn't make you want to crawl under your desk and stay there.

"Great," García says, apparently wrapping up his sales pitch. "I'll email you the details. Remember, this is optional but highly recommended. Nike doesn't offer these opportunities often."

The lecture moves on to muscle fiber types and you try to focus. Really. But your brain keeps drifting back to Friday night.

To cocktail attire and corporate representatives and the growing certainty that your life in Madrid is about to get exponentially more complicated.

Sofia's still taking notes. Dutiful, organized, probably already planning her outfit.

You draw another ferret. This one's stealing a Nike swoosh.

Seems appropriate.

Home feels different now that your dad’s working for Real Madrid.

Not worse, exactly; just… Heavier. Like the walls are holding their breath, waiting for something to go wrong.

You can hear him in the kitchen, moving around with the kind of agitation that means he’s either cooking something complicated or thinking through a problem.

You have lived with him enough to know it’s usually both.

"¿Qué tal la universidad?" (How was university?) your dad calls out when he hears you drop your bag by the door.

"Educativa," (Educational) you say, which is technically true.

You did learn that Nike has tentacles that reach into every corner of Spanish academic life.

"Bien. Ven aquí un momento." (Good. Come here for a minute.)

The kitchen smells like garlic and something that might be steaks if your dad’s feeling ambitious. He’s standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan that’s definitely too big for two people.

Force of habit.

He’s been cooking for crowds since your mom died, like muscle memory doesn’t understand that the crowd is gone.

"Tenemos que hablar sobre el viernes," (We need to talk about Friday) he says without looking up.

Friday. The Nike thing. Of course he knows about it. Probably got an email from someone at the university, or maybe Nike reached out directly. Corporate synergy and all that.

"Ya sé lo del evento de networking," (I already know about the networking event) you say, leaning against the counter. "El profesor García hizo el gran anuncio hoy." (Professor Garcia made the big announcement today.)

"No es eso—" (That's not—) He stops stirring what you now recognize as the veggies side dish. Looks at you. "¿Qué evento de networking?" (What networking event?)

Oh.

Oh, this is worse.

"Nike está patrocinando algo en la UEM. Viernes por la noche. Estudiantes de ciencias del deporte." (Nike's sponsoring something at UEM. Friday night. Sports science students.) You watch his expression change from confusion to something that looks suspiciously like resignation. "¿Por qué?" (Why?)

He sets down the wooden spoon. Runs a hand through his hair in that way that means he’s about to deliver news you won’t like.

"El Real Madrid tiene una cena programada con representantes de Nike. Viernes por la noche a las nueve, pero tenemos que estar allí a las siete y media." (Real Madrid has a dinner scheduled with Nike representatives. Friday night at nine, but we have to be there by seven-thirty.) He pauses. "Las familias del personal están invitadas." (Staff families are invited.)

The pieces click together immediately.

You want to throw something.

"Es el mismo evento." (It's the same event.)

"Eso parece." (Appears so.)

"Así que las 'figuras prominentes de la comunidad deportiva madrileña' son—" (So the 'prominent figures from Madrid's sports community' are—)

"El equipo. Sí." (The team. Yes.)

You stare at him. He stares back, apologetic but not apologetic enough to fix this.

"No puedo ir," (I can't go) you say finally.

"Sí, puedes." (Yes, you can.)

"No iré." (I won't go.)

"Sí, irás." (Yes, you will.)

It’s not a conversation. It’s a statement of fact, delivered in the tone he uses when discussing treatment plans with stubborn patients.

Final and absolutely non-negotiable.

"Papá—" (Dad—)

"Esto es importante." (This is important.) He turns back to the stove, but his shoulders are tense. "Mi puesto aquí sigue siendo nuevo. Aún me están evaluando. Estos eventos importan." (My position here is still new. Still being evaluated. These events matter.)

Right.

Because everything comes back to that—his job, his reputation, the delicate political balance of being the former Barcelona physiotherapist who now works for Real Madrid.

You’re not just his daughter at these things. You’re evidence. Proof that the transition is working, that the family has successfully integrated into Madrid’s football culture.

No pressure.

"¿Cuántos jugadores?" (How many players?) you ask, because you need to know the scope of the disaster you're walking into.

"La mayoría del primer equipo. Entrenadores. Algunos miembros de la junta." (Most of the first team. Coaches. Some board members.) He glances at you. "Es un gran evento para Nike. Anuncio de nueva asociación." (It's a big deal for Nike. New partnership announcement.)

"¿Y tengo que estar allí porque...?" (And I have to be there because...?)

"Porque eres parte de esta familia. Y esta familia se apoya mutuamente." (Because you're part of this family. And this family supports each other.)

The guilt trip is subtle but effective. Because he’s right. You are part of this family.

The only family either of you has left.

And if supporting him means suffering through dinner with Real Madrid players while maintaining the fiction that you’re happy to be there, then that’s what you’ll do.

Even if it kills you.

Even if one of those players is as arrogant as Kim Taehyung.

"Vale," (Fine) you say. "Pero no voy a fingir ser fan del Madrid." (But I'm not pretending to be a Madrid fan.)

"No te estoy pidiendo que lo hagas." (I'm not asking you to.)

"Y no voy a hacer conversación sobre lo genial que es el equipo." (And I'm not making small talk about how great the team is.)

"Entendido." (Understood.)

"Y si alguien pregunta sobre el Barcelona—" (And if anyone asks about Barcelona—)

"Les dices la verdad. Que lo echas de menos pero te estás adaptando." (You tell them the truth. That you miss it but you're adjusting.) He turns off the heat, faces you completely. "Esto no tiene que ser una tortura. Solo... sé tú misma. Sé educada." (This doesn't have to be torture. Just... be yourself. Be polite.)

Be yourself. Right.

Because your ‘self’ is exactly who you want to be around a table full of people who represent everything you’ve been raised to view with suspicion.

Everyone keeps saying that like it’s simple advice instead of the most complicated thing in the world.

Your ‘self’ is a Barcelona girl in Madrid territory. A physio’s daughter who knows too much about football politics and not enough about corporate networking. Someone who misses her mom and protects her dad and has strong opinions about ferret care.

None of which feels particularly useful for surviving dinner with Real Madrid.

But maybe that’s the point.

Maybe being yourself is exactly what will get you through this.

Even if ‘yourself’ includes the part that finds Kim Taehyung insufferable.

Especially that part.

"¿Qué me pongo?" (What should I wear?) you ask, because if you're doing this, you might as well do it right.

"Algo bonito, elegante." (Something nice, elegant.) He pauses. "Tu madre tenía un vestido negro. Aún está en el armario de arriba." (Your mother had a black dress. Still in the closet upstairs.)

The mention of Mom never stops the dull ache from forming and stirring in your chest.

Like lillies in full bloom.

"Ya me las arreglaré," (I'll figure something out) you say, because the thought of wearing her clothes to a Real Madrid event feels like blasphemy.

He nods. Goes back to stirring.

You grab a pikota from the jar on the counter, unwrap it, let the sourness ground you while you process the fact that your Friday night just became infinitely more complicated.

"��Al menos me dirás quién va a estar allí?" (Will you at least tell me who's going to be there?) you ask. "Para poder prepararme para el sabor específico de pesadilla que va a ser esto." (So I can prepare for the specific flavor of nightmare this is going to be?)

He rattles off names. Players you recognize from sports coverage and social media. Coaches you’ve seen on the sidelines. Board members you don’t know and don’t care about.

“Taehyung?” you ask when he doesn’t mention him specifically.

"Probablemente. ¿Por qué?" (Probably. Why?)

Because he called you Gominola and stole your candy and made sounds during a medical procedure like he was auditioning for porn.

Because he thinks you’re cute when you’re angry and left his trash for you to clean up.

Because something about him makes you want to claw his eyes off and you’re not sure you’ll hold yourself back if you have to be in his space for three hours.

"Solo preguntaba," (Just wondering) you say.

Your dad gives you a glance that’s accompanied by a small frown, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead…

"Estará bien," (It'll be fine) he says, turning back to the meal. "Unas pocas horas. Buena comida. Luego se acabó." (A few hours. Good food. Then it's over.)

Right. A few hours.

In a room full of Real Madrid players.

Including Taehyung.

Who will probably find new and creative ways to be insufferable while you try to maintain your dignity and support your father’s career.

What could go wrong?

You eat another pikota. This one tastes like impending doom.

"Voy a estudiar," (I'm going to study) you announce, pushing off from the counter.

"La cena está en una hora." (Dinner's in an hour.)

"Bajaré." (I'll be down.)

You head upstairs, leaving him with his meat and his optimism.

Up there, the room feels smaller than usual, like the walls are closing in with the weight of Friday night’s obligations.

Just as if your room represents exactly how you’re feeling.

Hari and Nube are there, watching you from their cage, probably sensing your mood through whatever weird telepathic connection you’ve developed with them.

“Esto es una mierda,” (This is shit) you tell them.

Nube chitches in what sounds like agreement. Hari just steals another sock.

Smart ferret. Some problems are best solved through theft and chaos.

You flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling while your brain runs through worst-case scenarios.

Taehyung will be there. Obviously. Because the universe has a sense of humor and no mercy.

He’ll probably make more inappropriate comments about your appearance or your attitude or your apparent cuteness when angry. He’ll probably find new ways to invade your personal space while maintaining plausible deniability. He’ll definitely do that thing where he acts like everything is a game and everything is fair and square.

Everything is his prize if he so much wishes for it to be.

And you’ll have to sit there. Smile. Be polite.

Support your father’s career while maintaining your sanity.

Should be simple.

Should be.

Your phone buzzes. Not Jungkook this time—something different. A WhatsApp notification for a group you don’t recognize.

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 - 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝

47 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝．

You stare at the screen. Scroll through the participant list. Every name you recognize from training sessions, plus dozens you don’t. Players, coaches, staff, board members. The entire Real Madrid ecosystem crammed into one group chat.

And somewhere in that list—Kim Taehyung.

Of course.

"¡Papá!" (Dad!) you call downstairs.

"¿Sí?" (Yeah?)

"¿Por qué estoy en un grupo de WhatsApp con toda la organización del Real Madrid?" (Why am I in a WhatsApp group with the entire Real Madrid organization?)

Pause. The sound of a wooden spoon being set down.

"Cena de Nike el viernes," (Nike dinner Friday) he says, like this explains everything. "Todos los asistentes necesitan estar al tanto. Vienes, así que estás en el chat." (Everyone attending needs to be in the loop. You're coming, so you're in the chat.)

Right. Because your life wasn’t complicated enough.

You scroll through the chat history. Pure chaos. Forty-seven people trying to coordinate one dinner, and it’s exactly as much of a disaster as you’d expect.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝟽:𝟹𝟶

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙽𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙲𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚛…?

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚋𝚛𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙵𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊?

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙾𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚗𝚘

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊, 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘?

The typing dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

Your stomach drops. There it is. The question that’s not really a question.

𝐃𝐚𝐝: 👍

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

You stare at that message. Blink in silence like that’ll somehow transcribe your response into existence.

God, why are they all annoying?

The typing dots appear under your name. Everyone can see them. Forty-six people watching you not respond.

You delete whatever you were going to type.

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚜𝚘 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝙻𝙴𝙾

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊’𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 💀💀💀

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙴𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷

The chat goes quiet for exactly thirty seconds. Then:

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎?

𝐃𝐚𝐝: 𝟷𝟿:𝟷𝟻.

Your dad appears in the doorway, probably wondering why you’ve gone quiet.

"¿Todo bien?" (Everything okay?)

"Solo leyendo el chat grupal." (Just reading the group chat.) You hold up your phone. "Es como ver un documental sobre machos alfa en su hábitat natural." (It's like watching a nature documentary about alpha males in their natural habitat.)

"¿Tan malo?" (That bad?)

"Marco acaba de decirle a Leo que su novia va a dejarlo durante los aperitivos." (Marco just told Leo his girlfriend's going to dump him during appetizers.)

He winces. "Marco es... directo." (Marco's... direct.)

"Marco es un sociópata." (Marco's a sociopath.)

"Es joven." (He's young.)

Young. Everyone keeps using that word like it explains away basic human decency.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙾𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

The responses flood in. Names, plus-ones, family members. A parade of people who belong in this world, who wear cocktail attire to corporate dinners without feeling like they’re playing dress-up.

You watch the numbers climb. Forty-seven becomes sixty-two becomes seventy-eight.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚃𝚊𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎?

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙺𝙴𝙴𝙿 𝙸𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕

The lie is so obvious it’s almost insulting. You’ve seen the headlines, the Instagram stories, the lipstick marks that make sports blogs.

Taehyung’s focus is definitely not on football.

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 - 𝙻𝚎𝚘 + 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝙵 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚎𝚘

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘 𝙸’𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: ✅ - 𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒 + 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚊

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝙳𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚘 + 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊

The list grows. Couples, families, people who fit together like puzzle pieces in this Madrid ecosystem.

𝐃𝐚𝐝: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 - 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚞́𝚜 + 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛.

There it is. Your attendance, reduced to a line item in someone else’s confirmation.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 ❤️

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟾 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚜’ 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚋𝚘𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚘 👎

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐞𝐥: 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚛. 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙷 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙿

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝚅𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝟷𝟾:𝟺𝟻

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐢́𝐚𝐬: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚜

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙰𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 not

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚜

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙾

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞: 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐕: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙽𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): ��𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝐃𝐚𝐝: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛.

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚛?

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙻𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚛

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚖

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐’𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚗

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐞𝐥: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞́: 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚́𝐬: 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚏𝚒𝚝

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚́𝐬: 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚́𝐬: 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞: 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢?

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝐏𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐨: 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙾𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚗𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐢́𝐚𝐬: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎

𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬: 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚂𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕

𝐋𝐞𝐨: 𝚍𝚘 𝙸 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐???

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝙾𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡): 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝟷𝟾:𝟺𝟻 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙲𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚝

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨: 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚢

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 (𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧): 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥: 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢: 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚗

𝐃𝐚𝐝: 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢.

"Cena en diez minutos," (Dinner in ten) your dad says.

"Sí. Ya voy." (Yeah. Coming.)

You’re about to pocket your phone when one more message appears.

𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠: 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝

Three words. Could mean anything. Could mean nothing.

But they feel like both a warning and an oath.

You’re not sure which would be worse.

The pikotas in your pocket suddenly feel insufficient armor for whatever Friday night’s going to bring.

Seventy-eight people. One dinner. Two many Real Madrid pricks whose entire personality orbits around their egos.

What could go wrong?

Your dad calls up the stairs. Dinner’s ready.

You pocket your phone, take one last look at the ferrets.

“Deseadme suerte,” (Wish me luck) you tell them.

Nube chitches. Hari steals another sock.

Some things never change—even when everything else does.

goal: 350 notes

if you liked this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee!! ♥'ﻌ'♥ https://ko-fi.com/jungkoode

next | index

—taglist

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap @jeontae @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @minniejim @btstrology @vialattea00 @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum @dailynnt @sashakittyct @bjoriis @hemmosfear @bettytta @impossiblecopoaffire @ilikekpop-c @yuyu0y11 @amarawayne @haru-jiminn @calmyourtitts7 @sstass @amarawayne @sugak00kie134340

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

284 notes · View notes

somehowukook · 5 days ago

Text

Oooh I miss the them so much!

Wounds We Never Show // Series Page

Jeon Jungkook Series

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab)

❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits

❥description: You and Jungkook have always been at each other's throats, bound by a mutual disdain that runs deep. You both would rather step into traffic than be alone together. But when a chance encounter at a wedding leads to an unexpected and forbidden arrangement, the lines between enemies and something more begin to blur.

As your fiery clashes give way to stolen moments and fragile truces, both of you are forced to confront the pain and secrets that have kept you apart for so long. When the past and present collide, you and Jungkook must decide whether the scars you both hide are worth revealing—and if your fractured bond can ever be whole again.

❥warnings/tags: Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, medical trauma/examinations/procedures, family trauma, slooooowwwww burrrrrnnnnnnnnnn, SMUT, these two really do hate each other, long series, swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, hurt/comfort, silly at times, tae is a menace, misunderstandings, miscommunication, unreliable information, eventual fluff, eventual pining, mentions of cheating (not the main pair), minor character death (none of the boys), eventual happy ending (it’s gonna be a minute)

❥disclaimer: Fic is cross posted to ao3, every chapter I will give associated warnings and tags that apply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Prologue // Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // Ch.4 // Ch.5 // Ch.6 // Ch.7 // Ch.8 // Ch.9 // Ch.10 // Ch.11 // Ch.12 // Ch.13 // Ch.14 // Ch.15 // Ch.16 // Ch.17 // Ch.18 // Ch.19 // Ch.20 // Ch.21 // Ch.22 // Ch.23 // Ch.24 // Ch.25 //... More to Come

Ch.7 EXTRA // PLAYLIST

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

1K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 6 days ago

Text

jungkook fanfic reccs (pt. 4)

decided to shorten the oneshots to just 5 cause its just easier for me that way 😭 but here are some old ones i found from years ago that are amazing and some recent ones that i really loved reading and am still currently reading!

oneshots/twoshots

wishful thinking by @heesdreamer (fluff, smut, angst, farmer!jk, countryside au)

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae (angst, orange au, time travel, high school au, strangers to friends to lovers)

cosmic balance by @explicit-tae (angst, smut, dystopian au, utopian au, sex worker/brothel, mentions of cheating, traveling between universes)

wherever you will go by @ve1vetyoongi (fluff, angst, smut, humor, videographer!jk, director!jk, actor!reader)

work it out by @choiwrites (fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, fighting, carpenter!jk, interiordesigner!reader)

series

another time by @jkwrites-m (fluff, smut, angst, thriller, past life, soulmates au) - completed

no room for secrets by @jjungkookii (fluff, smut, angst, comedy, slow burn, roommates au, new girl au, roommates to lovers, friends with benefits au) - ongoing

innocent until proven guilty by @koooobi (fluff, angst, eventual smut(?), lawyer au, criminal au, allegedkiller!jk, lawyer!reader, client!jk, client to lover, thriller, mentions of murder) - ongoing

destiny (trilogy) by @dat-town (angst (but with happy ending!), historical fantasy, beauty and the beast au, beast!jk, fairy!reader) - completed

moirai by @taeken-my-heart (angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, medical au, soulmates au, enemies to lovers, slow burn) - completed

1K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 6 days ago

Text

ONE NIGHT STAND ; M.LIST

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au , pregnancy au

✦ Jungkook x y/n ✦ word count ; 200k | 18+ ✦ status : complete

warnings - contains smut.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49

read chapters in Wattpad

2K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 7 days ago

Text

this is a drawing about how i love my cat

60K notes · View notes

somehowukook · 7 days ago

Text

the princess and the rockstar | jjk [2]

plot | Once upon a time, there was a crowd-favorite crown princess who found herself romantically involved with a famous rockstar. See how they will try to navigate the world and maybe live happily ever after.

w.c | 9.1k

genres | angst, fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au, established relationship!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | i think this is the longest thing I ever posted here haha (I'm patting myself on the shoulder for that) anyway, let me know your thoughts. enjoy reading!

main masterlist | series masterlist | spotify playlist

EXCERPT FROM THE INTERVIEW

“Oh, won’t you look at that? We have a lovely visitor.”

In the middle of our interview, a medium-sized blue bird flew over where we sat, landing on the tree branch just right above us. Queen YN looked up with a gentle smile on her lips, as if it was not the first time she had met our feathered visitor.

“It seems like the bird’s a familiar friend?” I asked.

“Yeah, she comes here often,” Her Majesty replied softly. “I don’t know if she already has an owner or what. But I named her Sapphire. Not too creative, am I?”

We shared a chuckle with that before I asked, “Why not keep her as a pet? Put pretty Sapphire in a golden cage.”

The slow fade of her smile is noticeable as she answered, “I think putting such a sweet creature in a cage, even though it’s golden, will make her less pretty. It might ruin her.”

She paused to take a sip from her tea, “I’m happy she comes by here of her own free will, and I think that’s one of the things that brings me joy when I see her. She’s free.”

“The freedom she feels whenever she’s here, I think that’s what makes her stay nearby most of the day. Not the beauty of this garden. I think I’m quite familiar with that feeling.”

At this point of the interview, I could tell that Her Majesty is telling me more than about the bluebird above us. I would not want to spoil the moment by asking her more about it, honoring her freedom to share parts of her life she wants to share. But Queen YN went on while looking up as Sapphire moved down on the closer branch.

“I just think… I think there are people who make you feel free, letting you explore places you never thought you could, that will make it hard for you to forget them.” She smiled, looking back at me.

“I kinda want to be like that for Sapphire.”

Jungkook almost dropped to his knees on the platform as they finally went out of sight of their large crowd. His chest heaves heavily as he removes his earpiece. Being under the stage, everything is dimmed. He cannot even recognize who he handed his microphone to before walking away. Droplets of sweat made his skin feel gluey as he ran his hand through his damp, dark hair, pushing it back. He can feel his shirt sticking to his body with how sweaty he is.

“Great show tonight, boys!”

A staff member greeted them on their way down from the stage, offering each of them a high five. After almost three hours of singing, playing with instruments, and interacting with the audience, Jungkook can finally feel relief in his body. His short cigarette sesh earlier didn’t help with his throat feeling a little sore now. Throughout the whole concert, he had to be careful and take sips from his water bottle.

“Okay, let’s take a picture first!”

Jungkook, Carter, Mingyu, and Woosung lined up and posed for a couple of pictures that their staff would post later. The noises from the crowd still rang in Jungkook’s ears before they walked out the doors to the green room. It only began to fade once they rested on the couch.

“I’m soooo tired. I love it.” Mingyu exhaled, but joy was evident in his tone. He leaned next to Jungkook, who pushed him, not enjoying the stickiness of their sweaty skin.

“My earpiece is a mess.” Woosung shared. “I cannot hear the drums well. I think it stopped working for a few seconds during No Control.”

The others shared their thoughts for tonight. Jungkook just listened for the sake of his throat, not bothering to say anything or ask about a certain guest who possibly came to watch tonight. When he felt it getting strained, he cleared his throat and reached for another bottle of water that was prepared on the table.

“How are you feeling?” Carter tapped his shoulder since he had noticed him earlier struggling.

“My throat,” he answered shortly. “Just need to rest.”

“Well, let’s go back to the hotel to let our Jungkook rest,” their drummer suggested.

The others agreed before standing up from the soft couch. Jungkook is already heading straight to their dressing room when Tara comes in, wiggling her brows. There is a glint of excitement behind her eyes, which is rare for someone who’s often stressed out over four grown men.

“By the way, you had very special guests tonight. It made tonight’s tag trend worldwide on Twitter.”

Jungkook paused upon hearing that. He wanted to ask and say something, but didn’t want to be the center of everyone’s attention. For sure, everyone who’s part of this tour knows that he has a stupid crush on a certain royal due to Mingyu openly teasing him about it.

“Who? The king?” Mingyu joked, making the others chuckle.

Tara clicked her tongue, “Eh, close. It’s his daughters, the royal princesses.”

The boys stopped in their tracks. Even Jungkook froze. His throat ran dry, not because of that cigarette or the hours of singing he had done today. Staring at the floor, one single thought stays in his mind. The princesses were here. You were here. Where were you in the seas of screams? Were you singing along? Are you a fan? He did not even notice his members simultaneously turning their heads in his direction. As if they were waiting for him to say something. Jungkook opened his mouth, but closed it back almost instantly. He was so good at making impromptu onstage lines, but now, his mind just stopped working.

Instead, it was Tara who spoke again.

“Maybe we can meet them.”

“Thank you so much, Zafiro! We love you!”

With that final goodbye, the band slowly disappeared as the thick white smoke took over the stage. The fans were still cheering, clapping, and screaming for the last time, adrenaline still on an all-time high. And you? Frozen. You were speechless, like your mind couldn’t process anything. Your mouth was dry, lost for any word to say. Your heart didn’t stop thumping after you set your eyes on someone. It’s getting hard to think straight. You’re in a strange haze— a very strange and hot one.

Jungkook.

That’s his name, right? Whoever he is, he has the prettiest voice. You rarely listen to their genre of music, but you managed to be entertained the whole time. But you don’t know why. When you saw him in that white tank top after he removed his leather jacket on stage, your brain stopped working, setting it on fire. It’s probably because you didn’t expect him to have that arm sleeve tattoo.

It’s so pretty.

He’s so pretty.

You didn’t realize you were clutching the skirt of your dress when Astrid pulled you into her arms.

“Oh! That was so much fun! Thank you so much for going here with me. I know this isn’t your type of music. So, I really appreciate you being here with me.”

You hugged her back, trying to cleanse your mind. You can now excuse your reaction as a shock, since this is your first rock concert. After saying goodbye to her friends, Astrid pulled you with her to leave your seats. She continued talking to you about the concert and the moments she loved, not minding the security agent who was behind you. You tried to listen but failed. You just remembered when the lead singer was playing with that guitar like his life depended on it. His fingers were smooth on playing that thing like he’s used to–

No, no, no. Stop, YN. You shook your head, determined to get whatever thoughts out of your head. That’s not so very royal of you.

Astrid paused, finally noticing you, “Are you okay?”

You turned to her. Head empty, but you know you have to say something. You opened your mouth, about to say something, when you heard something behind you.

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Princess YN! Princess Astrid!”

Both you and Astrid turned your heads back when you heard your names. The lady who was next to you during the concert is now wearing her security earpiece, probably communicating with Eddie. She also looked at the someone who called for you, scanning her quietly. That someone, you figured, was also a concert staff. You read the card that she wears in her lanyard that says, MANAGER. She was almost out of breath when she caught up to you.

“Oh, I apologize for the informality, Your Royal Highnesses.” She tried to speak with her hands on her knees, to catch her breath. After some seconds, she continued, “I am Tara Montez, Sweet September’s manager.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Montez.” You smiled, offering your hand for a shake, which she accepted. Astrid also did the same thing.

“Nice to meet you, too, Princess YN and Princess Astrid. Thank you so much for being here!” Tara paused. “It was totally unexpected and rare to see princesses at the band’s concerts. Uhm… We were hoping the band could meet you. They are big fans of your country. It would be an honor for them to meet you two, even just for a short time.”

Astrid audibly gasped. You looked at her, and the sparkles in her eyes said it all. You can also hear your bodyguard communicating through her wireless device. You’re sure Eddie would want you to walk out of the venue now and avoid any unplanned interactions. But you know your sister would hate to decline the offer. It’s a one-time thing.

So before your bodyguard could interfere, you smiled at Tara,

“Of course.”

“I didn’t see them in the audience. I mean, they are royalties, they should have a seat at the VIP area, right?”

“I think they can’t. For security purposes.”

Back in the green room, the band had already changed into their fresh clothes. Carter and Woosung munched on the chips they saw on the table as they chatted about their upcoming guests. Meanwhile, Mingyu was giggling as he secretly took a clip of Jungkook walking back and forth in front of him. He cannot stay put. He needs to move, or else he won’t stop fidgeting on the couch. Pushing his hair back, he wanted to be presentable at least. He’s still bothered by his sore throat, but the possibility of seeing you up close bothers him more. The amount of mint candies he took in one chew is crazy, as he hopes that there won’t be an awful cigarette smell when he opens his mouth in front of you.

“What should we do?” he asked them, trying to keep his cool. But everyone can tell, he’s failing.

Without any seriousness, Mingyu replied, “Curtsy?”

Before the others could laugh at that, the door opened, and the whole band immediately stood up straight. Carter and Woosung wiped their hands and even sanitized them with an alcohol spray nearby. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows at Jungkook. The latter gave him an annoyed look. They stood in a row, both nervous and excited to meet the princesses. The door slowly opened, and they could hear Tara’s voice.

“And this is Sweet September…”

Jungkook’s heart almost stopped when he saw you entering with a soft smile on your lips. Every photograph posted in the news and articles didn’t give your beauty any justice, he thought. He never thought that he would get to see or even meet you up close. He can feel his palms sweating. When you locked eyes with him, he swore his heart fluttered. You began taking a step toward him as if ready to shake his hand, but he was too nervous to notice that. Following what Mingyu said, Jungkook was ready to curtsy when you spoke.

“Oh… Uhm, we don’t really do that here, Mister.” You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “That’s more like the UK’s thing. A bow would be fine, not mandatory though.”

Everyone in the room laughed except you, who just gave him a gentle smile. But you found it cute. He’s cute. Especially when you saw that tint of red forming across his cheeks as he gets up to properly greet you with a bow.

“Oh— uhm— My apologies, my quee– princess.” he stuttered, looking at you with his doe eyes that remind you of Bambi.

“It’s your royal highness, dumbass.” one of his bandmate whisper-shouted at the back.

Your sister scoffed beside you, finding the whole dynamic of the band as funny and entertaining since she’s a fan. You looked at Astrid sternly, familiar with the look your mother used to give you two. You thought of just shaking their hands later, stepping back.

“Thank you so much for coming to our country. I’ve never seen a crowd as energetic as that,” you began the conversation to break the ice. “It’s a surprise for me to hear our people here singing almost every song in your set. I just learned they are a big fan of your group. Right, Astrid?”

You turned to your sister to give her a chance to speak to her favorite artists, holding her hand. But she just nods, almost hiding behind you. From the way she’s squeezing your head, you know that she’s still gathering courage.

“How about you, Your Royal Highness?” Jungkook asked. He doesn’t know where he’s getting all this strength to talk to you. But he just knows that this might be his first and last chance to talk to you. He wanted to, at least, know your thoughts about them… or him.

You replied with the truth, “Oh– I– this is actually my first time listening to your music. Princess Astrid right here just invited me to go here with her.”

Your sister chimed in, “She’s more of a jazz fan.”

At this point, Jungkook does not care if you’re a fan or not. The fact that you’re here and talking to them– him is enough for him. It already felt unreal to have you standing just a few feet away from him, speaking about their band.

But before the conversation continues, your security staff spoke behind you, “Excuse me. Your Royal Highnesses. The Royal Staff is asking us to go now.“

Jungkook tried not to be upset about that, pursing his lips instead of sighing. He noticed how Princess Astrid’s shoulder slumped and you squeezing her hand with a smile after you acknowledged your staff. However, Wooshik was quick to request something,

“Can we take a picture with you, Royal Highnesses?”

Astrid’s eyes lit up with that, “Of course!”

You quietly smiled before your sister pulled you to stand next to her, in between the four members. Mingyu was supposed to be next to you, but he pulled Jungkook to exchange places with him. Butterflies fooled around in your stomach as you felt his arm briefly brush against yours. All while Jungkook tries to calm his pounding heart. He tries to stay present, taking in your floral scent. He hoped to remember this moment over and over again. He was too busy stealing glances on your way that he didn’t realize it when the camera clicked.

“Okay, one more!”

Before the second shot, you turned your head at him, letting him know that you could feel his eyes on you. He seemed surprised, but didn’t look away. So you gave him a subtle wink and smile before pointing your chin to the front, wordlessly telling him to look at the camera. He did as he became breathless at that short interaction with you.

“It was nice meeting you, guys,” you stepped away.

The band stood in line once again after that. You and Astrid shook hands with them in turns. You introduced yourselves, and so they did too. Ever since you were a kid, when you began attending public royal events, you always followed the royal protocol, where in every person you met, you would shake their hand while having good eye contact. Another part of the protocol is that the public cannot physically touch you unless you initiate it first. So, you did. Astrid followed next to you.

The boys seemed surprised but showed their respect by bowing their heads while you shook hands with each of them. You just hoped your hand was not stone cold. But when it comes to the last person in the line, Jungkook smoothly managed to kiss the back of your hand when you offered it for a handshake.

You were taken aback by the action. Not because he did it. But it felt like something else. The kiss was feather-like. It was light and brief. But you felt something electric run through your veins the moment his lips touched your skin. Your heart shivered. Then, it suddenly beats fast, and you’re scared that everyone around you can hear it. You gulped as you made eye contact with him again.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” his deep and slightly hoarse voice said. It made you feel things you don’t know and you hate and like it at the same time. “I’ve read a lot about you.”

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your emotions, “You did?”

“Yeah.”

Growing up in front of everyone’s eyes, you are used to articles and opinions people say about you unsolicitedly. It’s mostly positive, but there is also a quarter of negative stuff being written about you each day. Usually, you wouldn’t dare to hear or read stories about yourself. But now, you want to ask and know more about what he reads about you. Your quiet exchanges of stares with him were only interrupted when your staff spoke once again,

“The Royal Courtier is waiting, Your Highness.”

There’s an urge to roll your eyes, but you tried not to show annoyance. Still, a small, subtle sigh escaped your lips before smiling at everyone.

“Well, we shall go. Our staff is waiting outside. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in our country. Congratulations on your concert.”

They bowed, and you turned around with Astrid, ready to leave the room.

“Wait!” Mingyu stopped you one more time. “Is there any way we can reach out to you and invite you girls again to our future events? E-mail? Phone number? Telephone number?”

Hearing that, your brows raised. There’s a smirk trying not to show on your lips, while Astrid side eyes you, waiting for your answer. She is over the moon to know that her favorite band wants to connect with both of you personally. Just like you, Jungkook knows what his friend is doing, and he is somewhat thankful for Mingyu.

“The only way to contact us is through Zafiro’s Royal Communication Office. I believe their e-mail and telephone numbers are on their websites.” You sounded like you were teasing or maybe challenging them. But you just honestly found their attempt funny. “Other than that, feel free to send us a letter through the mail.”

Of course, you would not give your personal number. Jungkook thought. Do you even have that? You probably have your own assistant who answers calls for you. It is known to almost everyone that even though every royalty in Zafiro has their own public social media accounts, you just use them to share your accomplished duties and advocacies.

Before leaving, your eyes looked around and stopped at him, “Again, it was nice meeting your band. We hope you come back to our country soon.”

“What did he say? What did he say?”

As soon as you got out of your bedroom door, your little sister greeted you with elated questions. You scanned her from head to toe. She was still in her favorite pajamas while you were already dressed up, ready for the opening of an art exhibition by Zafiroan kids.

“And good morning to you, too, Astrid.” You smiled before walking past her and down the stairs.

Since you ignored her questions, she hastily followed behind you, “Oh, my god. Did he reply? What did he say?”

She had her hands clasped on her chest when you turned around to answer her. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at you, telling that she has her hopes up high.

“It was left on read, almost at the same time I sent it.”

The moment you said that, you see how the smile on her lips falls into a small o. The disappointment is evident in her tone and slumped shoulders.

“Guess, I’m just some needle in his haystack,” you joked, which made her pout. You laughed, shaking it off, “I’m kidding. It’s fine.”

You entered the dining area of the palace, immediately greeted by the staff who were serving your meals and preparing the table. You greeted them back as you sat on your usual seats out of twenty other chairs in this spacious room.

“Rosie, can I ask for lemons and honey for my water?” you asked one of the servants.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

“Thank you.”

You ignored the baffled look on Astrid’s face at the same time you tried to turn a blind eye to that tightness in your stomach when you opened your phone this morning. No one should know that the first thing you thought of when you opened your eyes today is Jungkook and his reply. It was like you were back to being fourteen, giggling over boys and stuff like that.

Before you can take a bite from your toast, your sister finally says something. “Maybe he thought you were just a bot account.”

As much as you appreciate her effort to make you feel better, you just want to move on from this topic. You were already sure from the beginning anyway that it was impossible to have such a connection with a world-famous rockstar like Jungkook. It was great to meet and see him perform live, but to expect something more than that would be delusional. Also, for someone in your position, you should not be connecting with someone like him. That would be controversial. You can hear your mother’s voice at the back of your head already if that happens.

So you just looked at your sister and smiled, “Sure, sure, Astrid. Now, let’s just have a peaceful breakfast and go on our day.”

For someone who’s being groomed to be the next leader of a nation, it was easy for you to get that small rejection out of your head. You were often busy, attending events and shaking hands with various important political personalities. But it didn’t mean you forgot about that night. Sweet September, their performance, and their lead vocalist. Sometimes, when you find yourself up at the very late hours of the night, you watch interviews and read articles about them– or him specifically. You told yourself it was just to pass the time and distract your brain away from your royalty duties, but sometimes you end up listening to his acoustic songs on your bed, as if he is lulling you to sleep. To be fair, Jungkook has a very smooth voice that is suitable for various genres.

Does that mean he turned you into a fan? Maybe. But you still have neutral feelings about rock music, still opting for jazz all the time. If it were down to choosing between attending Sweet September’s concert or Laufey’s show, you’d probably still choose the latter.

In spite of your growing curiosity with him, you knew that that was probably it. Whatever happened that night of their concert in your country might be the last time you were going to talk to him again. You know that you two lived in two distinctly different worlds, and any connection between you and Jungkook will just be utterly impossible. So as months went on, you focused on the more important aspects of your life as Zafiro’s princess.

“Turn here!”

“On your left!”

“Princess, here!”

The continuous flashes of light and clicking sounds of cameras go along with the requests of the photographers around you. You tried to accommodate their requests, turning your head and subtly posing for their lenses. For a quick second, you glanced around the white carpet, scanning among the unfamiliar faces, and eased off your shoulder when you spotted Nathalie, your assistant private secretary, in the corner. She was just behind you, fixing the tail of your gown as you moved.

This year’s Met Gala theme is something along the lines of reimagining fairytales. Anna Wintour exclusively invited two royals to come to the event. You and Astrid. Your parents were once invited years ago, just a year after their wedding, but had to decline as they were doing some commitments in your country at the time. So tonight would be the first Met Gala that a Zafiroan royal would attend. Unfortunately, Astrid had to withdraw four days ago after having the flu and was asked to rest by your palace doctor. You almost didn’t want to go after that, but after your sister convinced you to please attend (for her sake), you agreed to go. Alone.

“Beautiful!”

You posed for a few more shots before you see Nathalie gesturing for you to go up the carpeted stairs. Before you reached the top, your eyes spotted the designer of your gown, who walked earlier than you.

“You look magnificent, Your Royal Highness,” she greeted you as you shook hands with her.

“Thank you so much, Maria. This gown is marvelous,” you praised her. “I appreciate the adjustments you made.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Fran and I just knew you would be perfect in that gown. So we accepted the requests you had before.”

The Dior gown was originally quite revealing on the chest. As a royal, you were often required (but not limited) to wear something modest. So when you saw this yellow gown in the choices your stylist, Fran, presented to you, you chose it with the request to put a fine or sheer cover-up for that certain part.

“Anyway, we’re going inside for the tour. Are you coming, Your Highness?” she asked.

You paused, looking at her, then at Nathalie, who is now beside you, “I’ll catch up.”

Maria smiled and bid her goodbye. You smiled at her before turning to your assistant. Your smile faded as you asked her,

“Are you really not going inside?”

“Yeah, I talked to other celebrity assistants here. Apparently, we can only stay here outside since assistants are not invited to enter the venue. Only there, outside,” she explained.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you bit your lip. You just air out your frustration through a small sigh. Nat smiled, handing you your purse.

“Don’t worry, Ma’am. Your phone’s in it. Taking personal photos is not allowed. But give me a call if you want to go after the dinner event. I’ll have our ride ready, and I’ll meet you here on the outside,” she assures you, holding your gloved hand. “But please enjoy the night, Your Highness.”

“Astrid should have been here,” you mumbled, sounding like a kid about to throw a fit.

Nat chuckled with you. She knows your worries. This is the first time someone from your kingdom is attending the Met Gala. You are not only representing yourself but also your country. The pressure feels like you’re in a beauty pageant instead of a fundraising gala.

“You don’t have to stay for too long, okay? Just mingle a little, sip some cocktails, and enjoy their dinner there. Then, you can dial me,” she tried to assure you again.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed. “Thank you so much, Nat.”

You began to walk away as she raised her two thumbs, cheering you on. An event staff member, whom you mistook for a model who was just standing in the background, gave you directions on where to turn and go. He said it was only cocktail hour, and the dinner would start later. He encouraged you to look around the exhibition. He also helped you with the train of your gown so you to move more comfortably.

“Thank you–” you paused, waiting for him to say his name.

“My name is Drew, Your Highness.”

You nod as you give him a smile, “Thank you, Drew.”

“Oh, Your Royal Highness!”

You turned as you heard someone addressing you in the busy background. There, you see the woman of the hour, Anna, walking up to you. She was smiling and sans her fashionable sunglasses, different from what you would usually see in pictures.

“Anna, thank you so much for the invite, “ you beamed before shaking hands with her. “Astrid sends her apologies for not being able to make it here tonight.”

“It’s fine. We will always have it next year! Let’s talk about this dress, it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed while making you twirl for her. “The color suits you magnificently. And the tiara, it’s perfect! Who made it?”

“Oh, it’s from Zafiro. It was made by a local jeweler that the King commissioned,” you proudly replied.

With the image of a certain Disney princess in your stylist’s mind, your father gifted you a gold tiara with bejeweled red roses in it. Jewelry and such are Zafiro’s top products. It’s been your father’s goal to make your country known by producing delicate and elegant pieces of jewelry. So wearing it and getting many pictures of you taken tonight would be a great exposure for your country’s top produce.

“Maybe we can feature it for our editorials in the future.” She suggested, “Anyway, have you gone around the exhibition?”

“Not yet. I just got in here minutes ago,” you replied.

“You should look around here, Princess. There are a lot of wonderful works here, you’ll love it. I heard you’re an artist yourself too– Do you want some drinks?” she offered when a server passed by, holding a tray of various drinks.

“Sure. Red wine is fine,” you smiled, and they handed you one. You carefully took a sip before continuing your talk with Anna, “Not really a professional artist. I just paint and draw in my free time.”

“That’s what being an artist is, Your Highness,” she chuckled.

You two began to walk to the main exhibit. You were silently grateful to have company other than Drew, who was still helping you with your gown. She was graceful in describing and talking about the displayed fashion pieces. But of course, she is Anna Wintour. Other guests were approaching her. She then had to go and mingle with one of her favorite models.

“Please, enjoy. I’ll see you at our table later,” she smiled.

“I will. Thank you.”

And almost immediately, when she walked away, you felt alone. You looked around, and everyone knew everyone. Even Drew was talking to the other guys who were assisting other guests. Everyone was laughing and chatting while holding their glasses. Holding tighter to your own glass of wine, you took a long, slow, deep breath.

Just look around.

“Do you think we can smoke in the bathroom?”

Jungkook simply chuckled at Mingyu’s mumbled question as they looked around the displays in the exhibition. Tonight is their first Met Gala. Jungkook was invited through Dior while his bandmate was invited through Balmain. They arrived separately but found each other inside the MET.

“Oh, hey, Jungkook! Mingyu!”

Before Jungkook could even recognize the owner of the voice, Louise was already standing in front of them. She smiled before kissing each of their right cheeks.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she exclaimed, talking to Jungkook only. “I watched your band’s show last week in Nashville with my best friends. You were so good! We tried to congratulate you backstage, but your manager said you’re not accepting guests.”

This time, her hand lands on his chest, feeling the texture of his tux. Mingyu was hiding his teasing grin as he took a sip of his cocktail. Jungkook forced a smile before holding the model’s hand. He played it off to remove her hand as he replied.

“Yeah, I… was kinda sick.”

Louise’s eyebrows raised as she awwed, “Oh, how are you now?”

“I’m good. I got better,” he replied awkwardly.

He side-eyed his best friend for a quick second. It was a silent signal for help as Jungkook felt claustrophobic in the current scenario he is in. Louise is no stranger to him. They have met before and became acquaintances, way further than she claims in interviews. She slides in his DM whenever she can, which in that case is every week. Jungkook always tries to be polite to her, replying to her relentless greetings. But he always tries to find a way to excuse himself from her invitations to hang out. He’s just not interested.

Mingyu, who is aware of this, butts in, “You know, I think the dinner will be served soon. We should go to our table.”

“Really? Maybe we should.” Jungkook agrees.

Louise seemed to frown for a second before another celebrity greeted her and got her lost in a conversation. Mingyu took the chance to pull Jungkook away, mixing in the crowd.

“The last time you were sick, we were in Zafiro.” Mingyu scoffed.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, and as if it was fated, his eyes landed on someone in a yellow gown in the middle of the crowded room. He cannot see properly due to the distance and a bit of dim light. But he can recognize who it was.

“Is… that YN?” he guessed, making his bandmate look in the same direction.

"She’s here?!”

You were alone, looking around, until a famous celebrity couple approached you. His heart skips when he sees you laugh. To say that you looked wonderful would be an understatement. You were easily noticeable with the color of your gown, which suits you perfectly. He wondered if you had been here earlier or later than him. He didn’t know you were making an appearance. But he’s not that surprised that you’re here, as you were known to be a fan of the arts too.

“Let’s go talk to her–”

A staff member interrupted them, “Please go back to your seats, dinner will be served.”

While walking in the same direction as everyone around him, Jungkook’s eyes didn’t leave you. He wants to approach you, maybe greet you, or talk to you. Just any excuse to be near you. When he lost track of you, he made a firm goal in his head.

“Oh, it’s an honor to meet you!”

One of your favorite musicians is now sitting next to you. You cannot help but smile and fangirl when she introduces herself. You didn’t mean to be so excited to shake her hand when she offered it.

“Oh, my. The honor’s all mine! I do know who you are! I am a fan of yours,” you exclaimed. “I know jazz isn’t really your main genre. But I really adore every jazz song you performed. You and Tony Bennett were fantastic together!I watched you perform during your tour years ago. It was fantastic.”

“Thank you so much, Princess YN.” Lady Gaga replied with her hand on her chest.

She listened warmly, nodding, as you expressed your love for her jazz endeavors. You felt more comfortable sitting next to her. She even had conversations with you and complimented you on your gown. Your heart was happy. You almost forgot she was a co-host of the event, if she didn’t mention it.

“I heard this is your first time visiting New York, Your Highness.”

Another known designer, who was at the same table as you, brought up. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you, and you feel smaller in your seat. You straightened on your seat, trying to regain the confidence your mother told you to always wear.

“It is,” you replied with a small smile.

“How are you enjoying it so far?” an actor asked.

“Oh, I haven’t really been anywhere other than my hotel room,” you joked. “I just arrived here this morning.”

Then, everyone starts recommending what you should do and where you should visit. They mentioned popular spots and restaurants. They also added some seemingly fun activities. But as much as you like that, you will not be staying for too long in the country for your duty in Zafiro. But instead of telling all of that, you just replied:

“I will, I will.”

On the other side of the room, Jungkook tried to remain engaged in whatever conversation was happening at their own table circle. He laughed along to their jokes while also stealing glances in your direction. He sees you mingling and laughing at the beginning of the dinner service.

But as the night got older and almost everybody began standing up from their chairs to dance along to the music being played in the background, you remained in your seat. Jungkook thought of going up to you to invite you to maybe dance, but he saw you kindly declining a couple of people who tried to do the same thing. You just watched them quietly, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Hey, JK.” Mingyu, who was right beside him, snapped him out of his gaze. “There’s an afterparty hosted by Stella McCartney at Zero Bond. Let’s go. I think everyone’s coming there. It’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, sure. But less drinking. We still have to perform tomorrow.” Jungkook reminds him, and Mingyu nods.

And when Jungkook looks back at the same spot you were at, your chair is already empty. His brow raised, and his eyes traveled around the place. After a quick scan, he spotted your back going in the direction of the main exhibit. With a sure decision in his mind, he simply tapped Mingyu’s shoulder as Jungkook got up to follow you.

You don’t know why. But sometimes, being a royal makes you feel a bit isolated. It’s not that no one wants to interact with you– actually, a lot of people do. It’s just that you know every move you make will reflect your country and family. So, you try to be careful in this large, crowded event. Now, here you are, in one of the most significant and fabulous events in the fashion world, sitting on the same chair you have been sitting in thirty-five minutes ago.

Three men had already tried to invite you to vibe along with the fun music, but you only smiled and gently rejected them. You don’t really dance except for formal ones.

“She doesn’t really talk much, doesn’t she?”

It was a whispered question that you managed to hear from someone behind you. Even though they didn’t mention any names, you knew who they were talking about. You felt glances towards you. So you turned your head around, offering a small smile to them. They seemed surprised as their eyes widened before they smiled back, slightly bowed, and walked away.

Maybe I should just call Nat.

You sighed, agreeing to that idea. But before that, you get up and silently make your way to the main exhibit. To at least look around one last time before you leave this magnificent museum. With your purse in hand, you walked out of the main event area. The music faded in your ears as you arrived near the exhibit. A staff member bowed at you when your eyes met before you entered the room.

“I apologize, can I still look around here?” you asked them.

“Of course, ma’am. We just don’t expect someone to go in here while the party is still going on there,” she said, and you simply smiled.

You felt calmer as you took in the intricate designs of the gowns displayed. Even the suits for men were perfect for the theme, reminding you of princes in Disney movies. Without many people around, you were given a chance to take your time looking at the displays. You simply examine every design that brings you back to your younger years. You used to sketch an unlimited number of clothes and designs when you got your first crayons and sketchpad. It’s nothing compared to these gowns, but it showed your colorful imagination back then. You imagine the four-year-old version of yourself jumping up and down while looking at every fashion gown and suit.

“Enjoying the night, Princess?”

“Oh!”

You almost jumped in your gown when you saw a certain man when you turned around. Your hand was clutched on your chest as you blinked.

“Jungkook.” Your faint voice murmured, still in surprise at his sudden appearance.

“It’s nice to see you again, Princess YN.”

And once again, he held your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. You wondered if he felt how cold it was or how you froze with–again– the unexpected action. Maybe he can hear how loud your heart beats. Or how many butterflies played around in your stomach the moment you felt his lips on your skin?

Does he really love doing this to everyone he meets?

You don’t want to think you were being treated specially by him through this action, especially since you got no reply after reaching out to him three months earlier.

“You know, for someone who has been attending massive royal events ever since they were little, you seemed pretty flustered tonight.”

Jungkook tried to break the silence. He was scared by your reaction when he looked at you after kissing your hand. You were just staring at him. But after he said that, you gently took away your hand as you straightened up your posture.

“Well, that’s because Zafiro is different from other places like these,” you replied in a joking manner, but you were just being honest.

Then again, silence found its way between you two. It’s not awkward. Nor suffocating. It’s strangely peaceful. There was still this distant sound of the party away, but Jungkook found himself in a staring battle against you. And admittedly, he felt conscious when you ran your eyes from his down to his outfit. Then back on his eyes again.

“Is that real?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“The piercing… on your lip.” Your finger points at the corner of your lips, mimicking where the metal ring is on his.

“Oh.” Jungkook touched the silver ring on the corner of his lips. “It is. Wanna touch?”

He said it as a joke, and he smiled when he saw you finally break into a smile and giggle.

“Thank you for the offer. But I would have to decline that. It looks great on you, and so is your suit,” you told him, making him shyly scratch the back of his neck.

“Thank you, I could say the same thing with you. You’re stunning as always.”

As always. That one was embedded in your mind even though you tried not to think much about it. You cleared your throat, “What are you doing here anyway, Mister? The party is happening inside.”

He slipped his hands in his pants pockets. “I can ask the same thing of you, Your Highness.”

“I’m just taking one last tour around here before I call for my ride.”

His eyebrows raised, “You’re leaving already?”

“Uh, yes,” you answered, while trying to ignore the question in your head that wonders if he is sad about you leaving early.

“You’re not going to any after-parties? Mingyu and I are actually going to one of those. Maybe you can come? I could send you the address, if you want–”

But you cut him off before you can fully think, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Jeon, considering that you didn’t respond when I reached out to you after we met.”

Lines were automatically between his brows as he heard, “What? I didn’t receive anything from your communication office in Zafiro.”

You scoffed, “You took that seriously?”

“Of course, I did. I thought you didn’t give your number to anyone outside your family,” he sounded genuinely confused and a little offended.

His Bambi eyes looked back at you innocently, which you find as greatly contrasting to his visible tattoos and piercings. You wondered if he really got your message and maybe just forgot it now. Or maybe he is just lying and denying your slight jab at him.

You pursed your lips, studying his expression, before saying, “Well, okay. But I messaged you after we met,”

Then, he looked much more confused because he was. Jungkook does not remember receiving any form of communication from you that night. If he did, he would never forget it. He will probably have it framed or as new wallpaper on his phone.

“I DM-ed you,” you added, but only got a tilted head and furrowed brows from him. So you continued, “With my private account. You immediately read it after I sent it. Wait, let me show you.”

Reaching into your purse, you fished out your phone. You don’t know why you are even doing this, proving yourself to him. You tapped on your screen quickly, feeling determined. This seems risky, but you also want to do it anyway. You went straight to your secret account and opened the one and only message you had there. You showed it to the man in front of you and watched his eyes get bigger as he read it.

As if a light bulb switched on over his head, Jungkook was fast to explain himself, “Oh my god, I remembered that one! But I was sick and drowsy in the following days, maybe that’s why I didn’t respond. I forgot. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Jungkook stood there, waiting for you to say something, when an idea popped into his head.

“How about this?” he began. “Our band will be performing tomorrow night here in New York. It’s one of our last shows for our tour. Are you still here by then?”

“I’ll be flying back to Zafiro tomorrow, before midnight,” you replied almost automatically. Like you were programmed to do so.

“Okay, the concert will be starting at eight. It will probably end by ten. Maybe we can still meet backstage. You know… to hang out.” he pursed his lips at the last sentence.

You squint your eyes at him, “Is this a guilt offering?”

He smiled, shaking his head, “No, just like what you mentioned in your message, it’s an invitation. But with a backstage pass.”

On your way back to your hotel, Nat eyed you through the moving car’s rearview mirror. You were biting off a smile as you looked down, typing on your phone. She observed how you have been blushing ever since you walked out of the MET, and it’s obviously not because of alcohol.

“Any plans to tour around the city tomorrow, Your Highness?”

You looked up, eyes meeting hers at the mirror as you replied, “Maybe. But free up my last six hours here. I’m going to a concert.”

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@gxtwllsn @joonwater @tokkiggukie @maariinaaaaa @istjjk @mar-lo-pap @elinaki92 @lveegsoi @qualityjoonie @recklesselfless @minewlove @yooforeaa @joonwater @whoa-jo @ficluvr613 @polnaraffsrack @daisiesarepretty7 @jenniebyrubies

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones @butnotmontana @mar-lo-pap @ficluvr613 @senaqsstuff @stars4kooo

171 notes · View notes