#lil bitta fluff

[dhampling]

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’ He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin.  ‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.” - a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you'll ever emerge again.

word count: 2,054

as always, a big thank you to the nonnie who sent me the prompt: 'Tav/Reader & Astarion get trapped together somewhere during a mission and have to deal with the isolation and anxiety of waiting to be rescued by their other companions' - i hope i did it justice <3

-

He rolls his thumb and forefinger as he casts an absent glare into your makeshift fire. Sniffs. Whets his lips.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” He asks into the open space. 

You’re on the other side of the cavern, triple checking for access points you may have missed on your prior patrols.

It’s been a fraught few days but with the rescue of Halsin came much-needed information. A path to the heart of the Absolute. Finally your journey had a destination, and you’d started to gather momentum in knowing you had a set route to travel.

If Astarion’s revelation had only come a little later there’s no doubt your friends would be clamouring to save you both now.

He knows the camp is wary of him, even more so than before. You made clear in no uncertain terms that anyone unhappy with his vampiric presence was welcome to leave the party as soon as they pleased. He heard the rumbles, the whispers. The staunch distaste for your decision and the following questions on your capacity to make them.

The threat of a power vacuum seems only amplified by your current situation.

Lost in a deep cavern following a fall from a hefty chunk of loose rock, just the two of you. The shepherd, the black sheep. Your companions promising to return but with little by way of a plan to do so. 

It was only your decision to cast Feather Fall prior to crossing that you both survived the plummet.

He is simultaneously overwhelmed with gratitude, and furious beyond measure. 

Overwhelmed to the point of nausea. Deep, horrid nausea that seeps into his bones every time he’s conscious of it. A pounding headache, a splitting skull, a million times ‘why’; the way you reach for his hand in the darkest nights and it feels like a balm. Your neck on a platter. You listen to him and it feels as if the gods finally heard his call.

Incensed - pitifully - because he wishes with hindsight that he’d found a means to stop you casting the spell. He’d finally be dead, somewhere Cazador would never find him; and whatever tale the sordid scars on his back told would rot with him. He’d be left in peace in this cool, damp darkness and nothing would be able to mutilate any part of him again, minus the rats that’d very likely feast on his corpse.

How very funny. It almost seemed a shame to deprive himself of experiencing that one while still having a brain. The irony.

There’s peace here, in the drip-drops and the echoes. An ambience of sorts. A spacious tomb for his undead soul to frolic and haunt for all eternity. Maybe he’d set up his tent so he’d have somewhere for his ethereal spirit to lounge, put the bottles and bedrolls out. He did fall with his pack, after all. 

But you’d be dead, too.

He’d suffer the fall twice. Break his own neck, garrotte himself in unholy witness of whichever reaper came for you. Slam onto the floor of the cavern, repeatedly; until whatever remained of his mangled brain could be assured of your own safety and he could finally fucking die.

Having something to die for.

Now that’s a novel concept.

You amble your way back over to him, rubbing your forearm as you search the darkness mindlessly.

“Don’t know. They’re under no obligation to, I suppose.”

“Easy way to do away with us.” Astarion ponders.

“You might just be right.”

You sink to the floor, wrapping your arms around now-crossed legs and exhaling softly.

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’

He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin. 

‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.”

When he says this, he expects you to flail your arms and chide him for his ill-timed attempt at humour. Tell him that you’d rather be here with anyone else in camp, that you hate the fact you’re so uncertain as to whether they’re coming back for you. Freak out in the way mortals often do. Reveal all those horrid little doubts over your staunch protection of him that he fears are stewing under the skin.

Instead, you meet his eyes and freely give a small smile. 

“Right again. Making a habit of this.”

“I’ll be careful darling. I wouldn’t want to set expectations now, would I?”

He can tell you’re uneasy, but he doesn’t seem to be the cause. Not remotely. If your body is anything to go by then he’s a solace here for you. 

For some reason, that suspicion makes him feel warmer. 

You look over the packs. You’re unsure how long you’ll be down here, or whether you should be preparing for the worst case scenario where food is concerned; but hunger pangs are worming their way through you already and you’re cursing the single coffee you had back at camp.

You’d like to think your new friends wouldn’t leave you here. Obviously far too optimistic a perspective for someone with a mind flayer parasite currently lodged in their head, but without hope you wager you’d very quickly become completely despondent.

In your mind, either possibility is a very real one. 

Astarion tilts his head to the side to make room for your own atop his shoulder.

The gesture surprises you in its intimacy. Not that you’ve noticed in any way aside from the purely observational, but his desire for physical contact seems relegated to that which is utterly necessary and nothing more.

The nights he has touched you have felt so.

This doesn’t feel necessary.

But it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“What can I do, my sweet? How can we make - this - easier.” He poses with a hint of a playful tone.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Astarion.”

He shakes his head and smiles with mirth.

“No, no. Not unless that was a proposition on your part?”

He turns and looks down at you softly.

“Maybe later. I’m just cold.” You speak with little conviction.

No emotion, just absence. He wonders if you’re actually considering letting him warm you through. A service he finds himself surprisingly willing to offer, wanting to even; his brain struggling to consider it a service when he’d derive such genuine pleasure from burying his icy fingers deep into the valleys of your warm flesh, head reverently planting kisses on your heated belly; holding your blazing torso against his. Tarse twitches. 

Astarion hums.

“I could try to make you something, if you like?”

You scoff, a slight smile returning to your cheeks.

“Thank you, but I’ll decline. Tell me when the last time you cooked was again?”

He errs a little, wobbling his head and gesticulating softly.

“Details, darling, details.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments, undoubtedly thinking the same things. Mulling over the choices that led you here. There’s a fondness, though. A lack of regret. What will be, will be. 

“Was there wine in your pack?” You break the silence. 

His head perks up.

“Fancy a lock-in?” He grins cattishly. 

For the first time since your fall, you smile completely uninhibited.

“Gods, I think so. Not much else to be done, is there?”

-

It’s cosy. 

Inside Astarion’s tent are both bedrolls, plus whatever cushions and blankets you could find within your bags of holding; and copious bottles of wine plucked unceremoniously from the stockpile before heading out.

“I didn’t know if they’d take it as an opportunity to mutiny. Cast me aside, leave me to die. I had to take some of the good stuff with me just in case.” He grins.

“I can’t believe I’m so glad to find out you’ve been stealing from the group’s resources.” You lean back, enjoying the warmth of the fire on your icy flesh.

He scoffs.

“What?! It’s hardly an ongoing pursuit.’

He sips. Lowers his voice.

‘I don’t particularly want to give them more of a reason to stake me.” 

Hearing his resigned tone makes your heart ache a little.

“They’d have to stake me too. I’d move too fast for that, obviously.” You mimic quick gestures with your hands, monk-style. He splutters on his wine. 

“What on earth was that?”

“A demonstration of my battle prowess?”

You chop again with your hands, moving quicker as he folds with laughter.

“The focus in your eyes, darling. It’s remarkable.” He breathes heavily.

“Obviously? I’m ensuring they can’t stake either of us?” 

You commit to the bit, chopping in the space all around you until your companion has tears in his eyes and is gasping for unnecessary breath.

“Thank gods I have a hero like you to protect me, hm? My knight in shining armour.” He practically purrs, wiping the tears and resting on his elbow.

“Just be thankful you’re not the one who has to fight against these hands.” You shake your head and dust them off with exaggerated finesse. 

“I’d feel sorry for the poor bastard who does.”

He likes how absolutely ridiculous you are at this moment. It’s sobering. Two hundred years and he hasn’t seen someone with quite the ability to create a levity like you just brought to the situation.

Your devotion - though used in jest - doesn’t pass him by unnoticed, either.

A beat of silence.

You pour another big goblet of wine and stare into the abyss.

“What if we are just stuck down here?”

He ruminates, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Then we have three options.’

He looks at you.

‘One. We find a way to climb that crag right to the very top.’

You both look up to where he points. Above you, minus some jutting rock, is a chasm as wide as the sky.

‘Two. We repopulate down here somehow and create our very own race of awfully mutilated creatures to fool the gang into thinking it’s someone else they lost down here. We can’t replicate Gale exactly, obviously, but I think they’ll begin to look similar after a couple generations of natural inbreeding.’

You pull a face and shiver. He shrugs.

“Three. We get cosy, and go out happy. There’s nothing we can do from here.”

Astarion lifts his chalice in a moribund toast, gesturing for yours to meet him in the air.

“I’m grateful you’re here.” Your cup clinks against his.

A moment’s silence. 

“I’m grateful it’s you.”

He looks at you once more. 

He could’ve been down here with anyone. Most of them would have staked him immediately. Said the Feather Fall had worn off, that nothing could be done. He’d have been left here, dead, with nobody to remember the only weeks of freedom belonging to him in the last two hundred years of his miserable existence.

But there’s you. There’s always you.

He wonders how you would react. Whether you’d shrug and remain stoic, returning back to the wants of the masses, just another fallen body. Throw some nightshade into the abyss in memory and move on.

Of course you wouldn’t.

“I don’t regret it, you know.” You speak as you sip, still looking up into the cavern’s sky.

“I- Thank you.’

You sit in silence for a few minutes, the drip-drops of the cavern a calm backdrop.

‘Between friends - you’re a little in love with me, aren’t you?”

You swallow a gulp of wine and wobble your head. Gesture lazily into the air around you.

“Not yet, no.”

He moves to object, but is caught mid-breath. 

“We’re doomed anyway. What if I said it? Those three little words?”

You laugh and sip again.

“What the hells. I’d say it back. Hope we live long enough to see it play out.”

Astarion looks at you fondly. There’s a genuine reverence in his eyes, soft and considered; and for the first time you see no barriers. If there’s a future in which the two of you don’t starve to death then he sees you there aside him.

“I love you.”

You bring his palm to your cheek and hold it there for a moment, closing your eyes and nuzzling against it.

“I love you, too.”

He swills the last of his current chalice in his mouth and swallows, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it reverently.

“Now we drink, and we wait.”

-

[girlygguk]

NOT IN THAT WAY | JJK (m)

summary in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

★ based on this request ★

pairing non idol!jk x fem!reader (slightly ft. min yoongi)

wordcount 30k (20k main post, 10k reblog due to block limit)

genre childhood bffs2l, fluff, angst, smut

rating 18+ minors do not interact

content jk&oc 21 | yoongi&jia 22, unrequited love everywhere, yoongi is kind of villainized 😞, toxic friendships, jk and oc are v touchy n lovey friends, pining, pushover & lowk naive oc, protective jk, simp jk, a touch of he hates everyone but her trope, a lot of clichés, a lot of flashbacks, heated-ish arguments, panic/anxiety attack, alcohol consumption, a lil bitta jealousy, kissing under the influence, smoking (ciggies), cursing, non-detailed sex scene w yoongi, happy ending because it's me 😭 explicit content; dirty talk, nipple play, clit play, cunnilingus, condomless p in v sex (oc on pill), toy usage during sex (vibrator), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of pillow talk

author's note this fic was basically built entirely in my old writing style, & while i did a fuckktonnn of editing, i'm still not 100% happy with the final product. but it's either post it now or i'll never post it! also... during said edits.. i think i took out most of the angst? 😭 i'm sorry angst luvvers, this is like 60% pure fluff and filth 😭

don't forget to read part 2! link at the end 🩷 (or don't, i wouldn't blame u xx)

main masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

The rain drums against the windows of Jungkook’s Jeep as you cradle a six-pack of strawberry soju on your lap, the bottles clinking slightly with each bump in the road.

Jungkook hums softly to an old Linkin Park track from the mixtape he's played a hundred times before, the nostalgia pulling you in until you find yourself humming along without even realizing it.

He’d picked you up from your place not long ago, with a quick stop at the liquor store for beer and snacks, and now the two of you were about ten minutes away from Yoongi and Jia’s apartment.

You’ve been best friends with them for as long as you can remember—Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jia. Jungkook, just a little longer than the others. Growing up on the same street, realizing that the boy with the big bunny smile from your second-grade class lived right next door—it almost felt like fate.

‹ ‹ ‹

“How was school, honey?” Your mom leaned down to wrap you in a hug, her soft bangs brushing against your cheek.

Eight-year-old you giggled at the ticklish feeling before grabbing her hand and tugging her excitedly toward the school gates, eager to begin the walk home. “It was so fun, eomma! My teacher let us watch a movie since we finished all our work early!”

“Oooh, that’s nice, sweetie.” Your mom smiled warmly, easily keeping pace with you, her strides leisurely next to your quick, hurried steps.

The two of you chatted happily about your day, your little hand swinging in hers, when something up ahead caught your attention.

“Oh? Jeongguk-ssi!” you called out, your voice high with excitement.

Your mom followed your gaze and saw a young boy, about your age, walking just ahead of you. He turned at the sound of his name, curiosity lighting up his big eyes.

“Y/N-ssi? Hey!” Jungkook waved with that trademark bunny smile, and without missing a beat, you pulled your mom along as you ran up to him.

“I didn’t know you walked home!” you exclaimed, beaming. “This is my eomma!” You introduced her proudly while your mom greeted both Jungkook and his mother. “We’re walking home too!” you added with a grin.

“Cool,” Jungkook beamed before patting his mom on the arm. “This is my eomma! We live just down there.” His little hand reached out to point at a street just within view.

“No way!” you screeched, eyes wide in disbelief as you whipped around to look at your mom for confirmation. “That’s our street!” you shouted, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Wow… and we’re in the same class? This is getting weird,” Jungkook muttered, equally amazed. You both stood there, nodding at each other with wide, stunned eyes.

Your moms laughed at your expressions before yours turned to his. “Should we walk together?”

“Yes!” you cried, bouncing on your toes. “I want to talk to Jeongguk-ssi about the movie we watched today!”

You didn’t even wait for an answer, slipping out of your mom’s grasp to walk beside Jungkook, chattering away as if you’d known each other for thirty years already.

Jungkook’s mom chuckled, falling into step with yours as they followed closely behind, chatting about mom things while you and Jungkook walked ahead, engrossed in your conversation about 'Robots'. You were so caught up that you didn’t even realize you’d arrived home until your mom gently pulled you to a stop.

“We’re home, sweetie. Time to go in and start your homework before dinner. You’ll see Jungkook tomorrow, okay?” Your mom’s soft voice pulled you from your excitement, and you looked up at her with a pout.

“Okay…” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook, who was still smiling at you. His expression confused you. He wasn’t sad to leave like you were… Why wasn’t he upset? You thought the conversation was going great…

“Y/N-ssi, I live right there!” Jungkook exclaimed suddenly, bouncing on his toes as he pointed toward the house directly next to yours.

Your eyes followed where he pointed before snapping back to him in an instant, your pigtails flying. “Wow! We can walk to school together and-and walk home together and talk about movies! And you’re wearing a Superman t-shirt, and I’ve seen half of the Superman movie! This is so cool!”

Jungkook didn’t correct you—his shirt wasn’t Superman, it was Iron Man, his favorite hero of all-time. But he didn’t care. He just grinned, matching your excitement with a big nod.

Jungkook’s mom chuckled again, tapping him on the shoulder. “Okay, Gukkie, we better go start your homework, too.” She turned to your mom with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a call later to talk about what we mentioned before, Bora?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Thanks, Hyomin.” Your mom gave her arm a quick squeeze before gently guiding you inside.

“Bye, Gukkie! See you tomorrow!” you called out, using the nickname you heard his mom call him as he walked up his driveway with her.

“Bye, Y/N-ssi! See you tomorrow!” he grinned before disappearing inside with Hyomin.

The next day, your moms walked you both to school, chatting as they went, and when they left, they seemed to head off in the same direction.

That evening, you found out they’d gone for coffee to get to know each other better, and it turned out they got along incredibly well. At the time, their husbands were the ones working while they stayed home to care for the kids and the house. It wasn't long before they were exchanging recipes, enjoying wine nights together, and becoming each other’s go-to babysitters whenever one had an appointment. Soon, they were inseparable.

Just like you and Jungkook.

› › ›

You first met Jia and Yoongi about six months later, when you and Jungkook moved up to third grade. It was a combined class of third and fourth-graders, with Jia and Yoongi a year older than you both. Since the activities were separated by gender, you and Jia naturally grew close, always being paired up or placed in the same groups for subjects. It was the same for Jungkook and Yoongi.

Jia was beautiful. From the day you met her, you knew she was in a league of her own with her looks— naturally wavy raven hair, long lashes, and starry eyes that made her stand out in any crowd.

As you all grew older, Jia only became more stunning, her confidence blossoming with age. By high school, she had every boy wrapped around her finger. And she knew it.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Yoongi to be one of those boys.

Jungkook was the first to know about your insatiable crush on Yoongi. Of course he was. He was your best friend, the peanut butter to your jelly, the moon to your light. You’d confided in him when you first realized around middle school that your feelings for Yoongi had shifted, that you didn't just like him as a friend anymore.

You told Jia, too. But she seemed to brush it off as just an innocent childhood crush, something that would fade with time. When she and Yoongi only grew closer, eventually making it official during your senior year of high school, you felt like you were going to die.

You love Jia. She's an incredible friend, and she deserves all the good things the boy you were in love with had to offer.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t a jealous person, the ache in your chest was impossible to ignore. And every time you visit their shared apartment, which they moved into not long after their second anniversary, you can’t stop that very ache from resurfacing as soon as you step through the threshold.

“Hey. We’re-o—”

Jungkook’s words die on his lips as soon as he steps into the doorway of Yoongi and Jia’s apartment, his body freezing in place. You don’t have time to stop, bumping into his back, the soju in your arms rattling with the impact. Jungkook turns around to steady you before Jia's voice rips through the room.

“You always fucking do this! I’m so sick of it, Yoongi! Seriously! I can’t fucking take it anymore!” She storms toward the kitchen counter, snatching up her jacket and keys. Her eyes pass right over you and Jungkook as if you weren’t there, and she shoves past you both in her rush to leave.

“Yeah, walk away like you always do, Jia.” Yoongi’s laughter is bitter as he follows her to the door. “I’ll see you at, what, 10 o’clock when you come crying back, saying that you’re sorry and you overreacted again?”

You exchange a glance with Jungkook, both of you fidgeting uncomfortably with the drinks in your hands. This was just supposed to be one of your usual Friday hangouts… but instead, you’ve walked straight into a war zone.

Jia’s already halfway down the hall when she whirls around, her eyes blazing with venom. “No, I won’t.” Her voice is sharp, her tone final. “I’m done, Yoongi. We’re done.”

Yoongi’s face falters immediately, and in all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him look this lost. “What?” His voice softens, a note of desperation creeping in as he steps toward her. She shakes her head, holding up a hand to stop him.

“I’m serious, Yoongi. I can’t do this anymore. We need a break… some time apart.”

Even though they fight often, the look on Yoongi’s face tells you that this is different. That maybe she’s never called it quits like this before.

“Wh—jagi? No, don’t—no… just get some air? Please? We’ll talk later, okay?” Yoongi’s voice cracks, and you feel your brows furrow, your heart aching at his tone.

Jungkook silently sets his beer on the counter, gently taking the soju from your arms and placing it beside his. He returns to your side, his arm slipping around yours. The warmth of his touch grounds you, but your eyes stay fixed on the man you love, who looks like he’s about to fall apart right in front of you.

“This is toxic. We’re toxic, Yoongi. We fight every single day. This isn’t love… this is—I don’t even know what this is.” Jia’s voice trembles, her grip tightening around her keys as she struggles to keep her tears at bay.

Your instinct is to step forward, to offer your best friend comfort, but she rejects your gesture, wiping away the tears that have just started streaming down her face. Her face contorts in pain, causing your lips to purse as you itch to pull her into a hug. Jungkook moves close behind you, his presence reassuring, but you aren’t the one who needs comforting right now—Jia and Yoongi are. Jungkook doesn’t move, just leans against the wall next to you, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“Jia, please.” Yoongi’s voice is raw, a pleading tone you’ve never heard from him before. You glance at him, your chest tightening as you see his eyes all glossy and red.

You have witnessed plenty of arguments between Jia and Yoongi over the years. Whether it was when you were all just friends in school and they disagreed on something, or when they’d suddenly break out into a heated fight during a night out at your favorite bar. But this one feels so different, and you don't know what to do.

You shift a little, moving to stand properly beside Jungkook, your head tilting up to meet his gaze. He glances down at you, about to ask if you're okay right as you’re about to suggest you guys go back inside, but Jia’s voice cuts through the air again.

“I’m gonna go stay with my mom. I’ll get my brother to come pick up my things… I need space, Yoongi.”

You swear you see the exact moment his heart snaps in two. His knees almost buckle when Jia turns around without another word, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, desperate to get out of the building as fast as she can.

Immediately, you and Jungkook rush to Yoongi, enveloping him in a tight hug. The dam breaks, and he begins sobbing in your embrace, his body trembling between the two of you. His breath carries the faint, bitter scent of alcohol as he struggles to catch his breath. You sigh, realizing the argument probably escalated because they’d both been drinking.

After a moment of rubbing his back soothingly, you suddenly glance up at Jungkook in alarm, which he returns with a puzzled look.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tilting your head back to search his tear-streaked face, gently wiping away the streams flowing down his cheeks. “Honey, has Jia been drinking too?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, still too distraught to process your question. His sobs only deepen, his body shaking with every breath.

Jungkook immediately understands, his hand lightly rubbing the back of Yoongi’s neck before he pulls away, quickly disappearing down the staircase that Jia had descended.

“Come on, hun, let’s go inside,” you murmur, guiding the broken boy toward the couch. His legs are heavy, dragging as you help him into the apartment with an arm around his waist.

Once inside, you manage to coax him onto the couch, gently urging him to sit down. His face is flushed, streaked with tears, and your heart wrenches at the sight. You pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it carefully over his lap.

The sheer amount of tears pouring from his eyes leaves your brows furrowed almost permanently. You’ve never seen Yoongi like this before—so utterly broken. Whether it’s the alcohol or the depth of this fight with Jia, you don’t know, but you feel sick to your fucking stomach.

You head to the kitchen, filling a glass of water before returning to Yoongi’s side. Sitting down next to him, you adjust the blanket so it covers both your legs and his. “Here, Yoongi. Drink some water, please?” you offer, gently wiping away the moisture clinging to his cheeks.

With a sniffle and a hiccup, Yoongi glances at you, then wraps his trembling hand around the cup. He takes a few gulps, finishing about half before you gently set it back on the coffee table. Then, you rest your head on his shoulder.

The room feels unbearably quiet now, and you don’t know what to say, how to make any of this better. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi.”

“I can’t believe it’s over.” His tears have stopped, but his voice is hoarse. His sad, dilated eyes lock onto yours, making your heart ache even more. “She’s all I’ve ever known, Y/N. I don’t know what to fucking do. What—what do I do?” His voice cracks.

“I…” You hesitate, your mind scrambling for something, anything that could comfort him. But for once, you don’t have an answer. “I have no idea, hun…”

You’re no stranger to giving Yoongi advice about Jia, and vice versa. You’ve practically become an expert over the years. But right now, you’re absolutely clueless.

Your best friend nods, his lips pursing to the side as he tries not to cry again. You exhale, your breath shaky as you shift to face him when he turns away. The blanket slips slightly, and your hands instinctively reach out to adjust it over his lap. But then, his trembling hand lands on yours, stopping you.

Your gaze lifts to his face, brows furrowing in concern. There’s a look in his eyes—something you've never quite seen before.

“Yoongi? Are you—mmf—”

His lips are warm, tasting faintly of Laphroaig—his favorite whiskey. The smoky sweetness floods your senses, dazing you as if you’d taken the bottle and downed the entire thing yourself. Suddenly, you're letting him guide you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as the blanket slips to the floor, forgotten.

Your mind blanks as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping past your lips in a desperate, feverish attempt to lose himself. His grip tightens, and he swallows your surprised gasp, pulling you closer, as if trying to drown out his heartache in the heat of you.

The realization hits you like a fucking truck.

You immediately jerk away, gasping for breath, your body trembling as you quickly scramble off his lap. Your legs feel weak as you collapse back onto the couch beside him, your wide eyes staring blankly at the wall above the TV.

Their TV.

A tense, painful silence fills the room, and you think you’re gonna puke.

Your lips still tingle with the memory of his, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. That was everything you’ve ever fucking wanted—but for all the wrong fucking reasons.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, yanking you out of your spiral. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you pull the device from your jeans and push yourself off the couch, stepping toward the kitchenette as you answer the call with shaky hands.

“Hey, bug. I’ve got Jia.” Jungkook’s voice soothes the crease in your brow before you even realize it. “She’s sleeping in the back. I’m going to drop her at her mom’s, and then I’ll come back to get you. Is Yoongi okay?”

You glance back at Yoongi, who's still sitting in stunned silence on the couch. “Ye—kkkhmm—yes, he’s fine. Okay, I’ll see you when you get back.”

Yep. Of course your voice broke. He won’t ignore that.

“Bug?” His tone softens, laced with concern. You close your eyes, trying to hold back the tears that spring to your eyes. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you choke back the cry building in your throat, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi. His head is buried in his hands, elbows pressed hard into his knees. “I’m okay, Gukkie. Just get Jia to her mom’s, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Jungkook goes quiet for a long second at your quivering voice. “No, bug. I’m gonna come get you first. Tell me why you’re crying, please.”

Your chest tightens, and when you try to speak, your voice cracks again. You roll your teary eyes, swiping your free hand roughly over your face. “‘ll tell you later, Gukkie. Please, just… please take Jia to her mom’s.”

He goes quiet again, and if it weren’t for the sound of his windshield wipers squeaking against the glass, you would have thought he hung up.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he fights the urge to turn the car around right now and drive back to get you. If Yoongi is the reason you’re crying... Fuck, he can’t even finish the thought.

“I’ll be back to get you in thirty minutes, okay?” he manages to say, his pulse pounding.

“Thank you, Gukkie. I love you, please drive safe.”

“I love you too, bug,” he sighs before letting you disconnect the call.

Jungkook glances up at his rearview mirror to see a sleeping Jia sprawled out on his backseat, soft snores escaping her lips. He doesn’t entirely hate Jia, but he can’t ignore how poorly she treats you, no matter how much you try to convince him otherwise.

What kind of person feels the need to one-up their friend in every aspect of life? What kind of person knows about the insecurities that their beautiful, amazing friend has, but discredits them and forces them outside of their comfort zone anyway? What kind of person learns about the feelings their friend harbors for someone, and shortly after, goes for that person just to prove they can?

Whether Jia does it subconsciously or not, whether her intentions are ill or not, whether you notice or not, Jungkook sees everything.

At the end of the day, it’s you he cares about. You are his best friend. You are the love of his life. You are the one he will protect at all costs when it comes down to it. You are the one he will choose.

You will not get hurt in the crossfire of Yoongi and Jia’s fucked-up relationship. Jungkook will make sure of that.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is quiet—the quietest Yoongi has ever heard, and his heart splinters.

His head lifts from his hands, eyes searching for you. You’re standing a few feet away, the distance between you obvious, and he almost cringes. “Don't, bug. Are you okay? I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s still strange to hear Yoongi call you the nickname Jungkook gave you what feels like a hundred years ago, but you can’t ignore the warmth it stirs in your chest when he does.

“Of course I’m okay,” you say carefully. “You’re hurting... People do silly things when they’re hurting.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, bug, I—”

“You didn’t.” You’re quiet again, and he freezes, confusion knitting his brows. “Make me, um, uncomfortable.”

He scoffs under his breath, hands rubbing at his temples. “Sure seems like I did.”

“No, you could never make—”

“Y/N, don’t say that. I kissed you. I pulled you on top of me—”

“I let you—”

“I took advantage of you—”

“You didn’t—”

“Stop fucking defending me! Stop thinking the best of me—”

“I’m not—”

“You are! You always do! Even when I act like a complete piece of shi—”

“I love you.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence. Yeah, you’re definitely going to puke now.

Yoongi’s hands slowly fall away from his face, his eyes desperate to meet yours. But you refuse to look at him. Your gaze stays fixed on the rug you helped Jia pick out from your favorite vintage home decor store. You’re going to get vomit all over such a pretty rug.

“Bug…” His voice is soft, pleading. You don’t look up. You don’t move. You can’t.

You’ve said “I love you” to Yoongi plenty of times before. But you know that you can’t possibly play this off as another friendly declaration. You know he caught what you really meant.

Over a decade of hiding and suppressing your feelings for him, just for you to suddenly blurt it out because you couldn’t bear to hear him talk badly about himself? And to think your stupid therapist said your chronic people-pleasing tendencies were getting better.

“Y/N. Please.” You didn’t even realize he’d stood from the couch, didn’t notice him moving closer. But you feel it when his shaky hand gently lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You don’t mean that,” he murmurs, shaking his head slowly, his eyes filled with sadness as he takes in your expression.

“Okay.” You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks despite your efforts to hold them back. “I didn’t mean it. Let’s just forget it happened—”

“You can’t love me, bug.” He looks like he’s in so much pain, and your stomach clenches. He’s repulsed by the idea of you loving him in that way. God, you wished that you’d just stayed home tonight and watched movies with Jungkook like he had suggested.

Who were you even kidding? Yoongi is in—well, was in—a relationship with one of the most gorgeous, fierce, and confident women you’ve ever met. Jia is everything a man could want. He loves her. Obviously, he loves her. How pathetic could you be?

“Yoongi, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I even said that. I’m so stupid.” You sniffle, and Yoongi sighs deeply, his thumb brushing away the tear that spills down your cheek. “Please forget it. Please, let’s just forge—”

But he cuts you off, his lips crashing into yours again, more intense this time. His kiss pulls you under before you can even think to resist, and it's not long before your body completely surrenders. Your lips part, letting him in, stifling the urge to moan as his tongue meets yours. Yoongi’s hands move from your jaw to thread through your hair, pulling you closer, and suddenly, everything—right, wrong, loyalty, friendship—fades. It’s just him.

A deep groan vibrates from his throat, and you capture it, drinking it in as your head spins. Your hands unfreeze and find their way to his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric of his shirt. You grip the material, tugging him even closer, satisfaction surging through you as he presses himself against you.

Yoongi pulls back, just for a moment, and you force yourself not to chase his lips. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of his swollen pout and reddened cheeks. “I didn’t know, Y/N…”

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know. It’s okay, really. You don’t have to—”

“I didn’t know that you had feelings for me, too.”

Your hands jerk back, the fabric slipping from your fingers as you stumble away. What?

“What?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

No? That’s not. No.

“Of course I love you, bug.” Yoongi’s eyes soften, and his words spill out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s not to love? You’re smart, funny, pretty, sweet… Anybody would be lucky to have you.”

Your head starts shaking furiously, your brain scrambling to process what he’s saying. “You’re—a-are you drunk? You don’t mean that. You can’t just say something like that to me if you don’t mean it—”

“You know me, Y/N. You know my tolerance, and I’ve barely had much to drink. I’m just really emotional tonight. But I mean it, I do love you.”

You stare at him, the boy you’ve loved in secret for years, the one you’ve cried over, wishing for this exact moment. And now, the words you’ve always dreamed of are tumbling from his lips.

But… where are the fireworks?

There’s no rainbow-colored burst in your head, no magical release of all the pain you’ve carried, no sense of it washing down a metaphorical drain. You pout at the thought.

You feel happy, yes. Relieved, yes. Confused… yes.

A soft thudding noise furrows Jungkook’s brows as he twists the handle to Yoongi’s apartment door.

The lights in the living room are on. There’s a blanket sprawled across the rug you really wanted from your favorite vintage home decor store—the one Jia bought because she said it would look cute in her new apartment. Your sandals are neatly placed next to the doormat, but you’re nowhere in sight.

Jungkook peeks into the nearby rooms, checking the main bathroom and laundry, both empty. His steps slow as he reaches Yoongi and Jia’s bedroom, where a sliver of light spills from beneath the door. His hand hovers over the knob before it freezes, his blood running cold.

“Oh! Fuck!” Your sweet voice rings in his ears, rendering him immobile.

No.

No, bug… Fuck.

The thudding noise he heard when he entered the apartment returns, now registering loud and clear as the headboard of Yoongi’s bed slamming harshly into the wall. Jungkook tries to move, tries to turn around and leave, but he can’t.

“Shit, bug! You like that?”

Jungkook’s fist tightens around the doorknob as he hears his best friend call you by his nickname while he fucks you. He’s got some fucking nerve.

“Mhmm, I-I love ittt.”

Jungkook stumbles back from the door as he feels the bile rising in his throat. He heads to the kitchen, chest tightening painfully with every step. He grabs a glass, fills it with water, and downs it in three gulps. Then he fills it again, downs it again. And again. And again.

He repeats the action until his eyes are watering and he can’t force himself to swallow another mouthful. The sick feeling clawing at his throat remains unaffected. He's gonna fucking pass out.

He’s shaking now as he carefully sets the glass in the dishwasher. Then, he walks to the door and removes his shoes, lining them up perfectly alongside yours. After turning off the light, Jungkook walks to the couch and bends down to pick up the ugly blanket draped across your pretty little rug.

Your body clock wakes you as it does every morning. Groggily, your hand reaches out, searching for your phone on your bedside table. But instead of the familiar hard surface, your fingers only encounter more mattress instead.

‹ ‹ ‹

“Okay, can you pass me two screw C’s, please, Gukkie?” you asked, eyes bouncing between the half-built table you were trying your best to put together.

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment, his hand hovering over the screw C’s even though he knew it was actually screw B’s you needed for that part. He glanced over, catching sight of your little pout, and grabbed two screw B’s, plopping them into your hand.

“Thank you—” you started, pausing when you noticed the bolts weren’t what you thought. “Gukkie, no, I need screw C’s.”

“No, bug, you need screw B’s.” He rubbed your leg, which was bumping against his as you both sat cross-legged on the floor of your new apartment.

“What—I… huh?” you mumbled in confusion, glancing from the manual to the table, then back to the manual. “Ohhhh, fuuuckk!”

You dropped the screws and manual with a whine, pulling your knees up and burying your face in them. “I’ve gotten the last three steps backward! I’ll have to basically unassemble it and—ugh!” you groaned, grumbling into Jungkook’s shoulder when he laughed, catching you as you flopped against him. “Should’ve just let you build it like you wanted to,” you muttered.

Jungkook just shrugged, glancing at the table. “S’okay. Won’t take me long. Want to order our dinner?”

You glanced up at your best friend, hands reaching to grab his cheeks and squeeze them. “Yes. Thank you. I love you.” He turned his face to give your hand a quick kiss, nodding as he reached for the table pieces. “I love you more. My phone’s over there,” he gestured to the couch behind you, a silent invitation to use his delivery app.

You nodded, grabbing his phone and angling away just enough so he wouldn’t see you switch to your own device instead. He never let you pay, but he was building your furniture...

You’d happily take the scolding once your bellies were full and your cute new table was standing next to your bed.

› › ›

Confused, you open your eyes, only to be met with the sight of a blank beige wall. But… your walls aren't beige?

And then it hits you.

Yoongi.

You and Yoongi.

The arm wrapped firmly around your waist tugs you closer as Yoongi nuzzles into your back, still half-asleep. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat, before gently trying to pull the blanket up over your exposed chest. But even in his sleep, his grip on you remains strong. You’re about to tug a little harder when you suddenly remember.

Jungkook.

Holy fuck, Jungkook. He was supposed to come back for you. He must have, but you weren’t out there waiting for him. Panic surges through you as you scramble out of the bed, not even thinking as you leap for your jeans discarded on the bedroom floor.

Yoongi stirs, a confused grunt escaping him as his eyes slowly open, watching you frantically search your pants. “I would say I’m hurt you’re rushing to get dressed so quickly,” he drawls, voice husky with sleep, “but your ass looks fantastic from here, so I’ll let it slide…”

You roll your eyes with a little smile, still focused on finding your phone. Climbing back into bed once you have it in hand, he watches with a twinkly smirk, the bruise he left above your left nipple making his morning wood throb a little. His head tilts up to capture your lips, and you almost drop your phone at the feeling, but you don’t let it last too long before flopping back next to him, finally opening your messages app.

[7:36 AM] To: Gukkie good morning, gukkie. i’m soooo sorry i didn’t call you last night. i have so much to tell you. please text me back when you wake up, okay? i love you 💗

You scroll back to the last message, a photo from Jungkook of an anime figurine he found at the gas station yesterday on his way to pick you up. He said it reminded him of you.

You’ve never been much into anime—only knowing what you do from when you go over to his place and finish the episode he’s currently watching with him—but the character was so cute. Maybe you’ll ask him to show you the series later.

You’re just about to ask Yoongi if you can borrow his charger because your phone’s at 5%, but his phone rings, interrupting your question. He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning over to grab his phone from the bedside table. As he glances at the screen, a sigh slips from his lips, his hand running through his hair in a familiar gesture that tells you exactly who’s calling. A knot forms in your stomach as you focus back on your phone, pretending to be preoccupied with the screen.

Clad only in his boxers, Yoongi gets up and quietly slips into the ensuite, shutting the door behind him. His voice is low, muffled by the walls, but you don’t try to listen. Instead, you lean over to his bedside table, searching for a charger amongst the clutter, but come up empty. After a quick check of the drawers and still finding nothing, you sigh.

Just as you’re about to get up and search the rest of the room, you glance back at your phone in your lap. The messages app is still open, and your heart stutters when you notice the read receipt on the last text you sent.

Read 7:37 AM.

Jungkook’s awake? Maybe he’s just in the bathroom and will reply soon. Or maybe you woke him up, and he was too tired to respond. Or maybe he’s mad at you for ditching him yesterday. Guilt twists in your chest, and you bite hard on your inner lip, knowing you’ve just earned yourself a spot in the Shitty Friend Hall of Fame after last night.

You're typing another message to Jungkook when the ensuite door opens. You glance up, only to find Yoongi stepping back into the room with a somber expression. His movements are slow, careful. Your stomach drops.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how underdressed you are. Your phone slips from your fingers into the blankets without a thought as you scramble back up to grab your shirt from the floor. Your throat feels scratchy, and you clear it awkwardly, desperate to fill the silence as you tug the fabric over your head. Yoongi watches your frantic movements and sighs as he reaches out to you, but you pull away, avoiding his touch.

His voice is strained. “Bug…” 

God, you’re so fucking stupid. Of course, this was nothing to him. You were nothing but a momentary distraction, a warm body to offer comfort while he was hurting. Of course it takes one five-minute call from your beautiful best friend to have him regretting everything that happened between you.

Holy fuck. Jia.

She’s going to be furious. She's going to kill you. She’s going to hate you.

Panic rises in your chest, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. You stumble back slightly, grabbing for your jeans again, but your hands are shaking too much to pull them on. Yoongi steps closer, taking the jeans from your hands, his fingers brushing against your skin, warm and gentle.

And that’s when you break.

He pulls you into his arms as you lose it, sobbing uncontrollably, ugly and snotty. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Jia and I… we’re gonna try to work on things… There’s just so much history, and we weren’t thinking clearly last night. I’m so—”

“No, I’m…” you choke out between hiccups, wrenching free from his arms, hurriedly wiping your eyes and nose. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh my god, she’s going to hate me. What have I done? I-I—”

Your words falter as a wave of dizziness hits you, and your vision begins to blur at the edges. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowns out everything else. The tightness in your chest makes it hard to breathe, each breath becoming shallower, more frantic. “Yoong—”

The room is closing in on you, suffocating. The panic seizes your lungs, and even the minimal clothing you’re wearing feels too heavy, too much.

It’s been two years since your last episode and you'd almost forgotten how they felt like. But right now, but the feeling is all too fucking familiar.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in alarm. He’s saying your name, you think, but all you can hear is the deafening thud of your own heartbeat. Your hands tremble uncontrollably, and before you know it, you collapse to the floor, curling into yourself.

Head on your knees. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Just like your nurse taught you. Just like your best friend practiced with you for hours until you both experts in the method.

But it’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

“Y/N?” Yoongi’s voice rises in panic, his eyes wide and helpless. “Y/N, please. What’s happening? What do I do? I-I’m going to call an ambu—”

The door to Yoongi’s room slams open, hitting the wall with a thud at the force it was thrown open. Within seconds, Yoongi is shoved aside, and the warmth of strong arms wraps around you. You don’t even have to look up; you’d recognize his touch and scent anywhere. The most comforting, familiar presence in your life surrounds you, and while it barely steadies your racing pulse, it feels like everything.

Your body shudders with a fresh wave of tears as Jungkook pulls you into him, his arms cradling you while he gently rocks you back and forth. His lips press softly against the top of your head. “‘S’ok, bug,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “Just focus on your breathing. In and out, remember? I’m here. I’m with you. We’re here together. We’re okay.”

“Kook…” Yoongi’s strained voice cuts through, watching helplessly as you cling desperately to Jungkook’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to—”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook interrupts, his voice low, firm, almost dangerous as he speaks without taking his eyes off of you. “When she’s okay, we’re going to leave.”

Yoongi immediately agrees, his expression growing more concerned as he watches you fall apart in Jungkook’s arms, “Y-yeah-uh, yeah, I can drive you guys if—”

“If you or Jia ever drag her into your fucked-up situation again,” Jungkook finally lifts his gaze from you, staring coldly into Yoongi’s eyes as he continues, “you will both regret it.”

You’re slowly regaining control, your breathing evening out, but you’re still too drained to form words. You want to tell Jungkook that it’s not Yoongi’s fault. That you were just as much to blame. That you made this mess, too. But the words won’t come. You’re too spent, too weak to defend him.

Jungkook watches as you struggle to speak, your breath still uneven but slowly regulating. His focus is entirely on you, not caring about whatever unreadable expression Yoongi is wearing. Anger, regret—whatever the fuck, Jungkook couldn’t care less. All that matters to him is that your sobs have finally stopped and your breathing is settling.

You’re still trying to speak, no doubt in an attempt to defend your other best friend. The other best friend who’s standing a foot away from you looking like he was going to have a panic attack. Fucking pathetic, Jungkook thinks.

His gaze softens as he brushes his thumbs gently across your cheeks, wiping away the lingering tears. You pull back slightly, clearing your throat to try and gather your strength.

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval, silently telling you to stop straining yourself, but he lets it slide without comment. Your hand hastily moves to wipe your nose, your chest tightening in embarrassment by the state you’re in.

Jungkook moves your hand away, lifting the bottom of his t-shirt to gently wipe under your nose, the way someone would for a baby when they couldn't blow their own.

A raspy laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it and Jungkook’s lips quirk up at the sound, a little weight lifting from his heart as he finally sees you smile. He finishes wiping your face and lets the t-shirt fall back down, his hands resting on yours where they’ve settled on his leg.

“First one in a while,” he murmurs softly, still ignoring Yoongi’s presence across the room, allowing you to play absentmindedly with his hand.

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffing one last time. “Thought they were gone… Thank you for helping m—” Your voice falters, confusion clouding your expression as you look up at him. “Wait, how are you here? Where did you—when did you—”

“He slept here. On the couch.”

Yoongi’s voice interrupts, and your gaze snaps to him, brows knitting further in confusion. What? He knew Jungkook was here? And didn’t tell you? “Wha—”

“Saw him when I went to grab water in the middle of the night,” Yoongi adds, resting casually against his dresser.

Annoyance flickers inside you, and you don’t even know why. Maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi didn’t tell you Jungkook was sleeping out there, alone on the couch. Or maybe it’s the sudden wave of nausea rising in your throat at the realization that Jungkook might have heard everything.

“You ready to go?” Jungkook’s gentle voice pulls you back to the present, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. He leans forward and grabs your jeans from the floor, handing them to you without a word. You give a quick nod, accepting them and walking to the ensuite to put them on.

A few minutes later, you emerge from the bathroom, looking a little more put together. Your face is rinsed, and your hair is tied back into a ponytail, but the redness around your eyes remains, making Jungkook’s stomach churn. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you cross the room silently.

You step forward, hugging Yoongi tightly, your voice small. “I’m really sorry, Yoongi. I just—”

“Don’t,” Yoongi cuts you off, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize, bug.”

Jungkook, who had been waiting near the doorway, catches the end of your conversation. His jaw clenches when he hears Yoongi say, “I won’t mention anything to Jia.”

You nod, assuming he means that he’ll let you break the news to her yourself. “Thanks, Yoongi. I’ll come see her later toni—”

“No, bug.” Yoongi interrupts again, his tone a little firmer this time. “I won’t say anything at all...”

You blink, confused. Your brows knit together as you search his face, trying to understand. He wanted to keep this a secret? From Jia, one of your best friends? The woman he’s in love with?

When it seems like you can’t find the words to say, Jungkook approaches quietly, your sandals in hand, nudging them toward you. You break your gaze from Yoongi to slip into them, but your eyes flick back to him, silently begging for more explanation. He offers none.

Jungkook stands close and quietly behind you, waiting for you to finish up, and he hopes you do it soon because he really doesn’t want to be in this house anymore. You finally avert your gaze from Yoongi, still confused and dazed, but suddenly desperate to leave. Jungkook reads the look instantly, repressing back what he really wants to say to Yoongi for the sake of your presence, slipping his hand into yours before leading you out of the apartment.

“Damn it,” Jungkook mutters, clicking his tongue in frustration, the sound echoing in the roomy cabin of his Jeep.

You glance over at him after fiddling with the knob of his car heater, noting his annoyed features. “Hm? You okay?”

“We left our drinks there.” A borderline adorable pout coats his lips as he sighs, and despite the heaviness in your chest, you can’t help but smile.

“It’s okay.” You shrug, looking down at your lap. “Don’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook glances at you, and the moment his eyes catch your expression, his heart twists. He wants to cup your face in his hands, massage your frown away, and tell you everything will be fine. But at the same time, all he can think about is driving back to Yoongi’s apartment after he drops you off at home and beating the ever-loving shit out of him.

He’s so fucking angry.

Angry at how Yoongi would claim such a priceless fucking gift from the sweetest fucking girl and leave her hurt in the process. Angry at how he knows you’re blaming yourself for everything that happened last night when he would bet every cent to his name that you have nothing to be truly sorry for. Angry at the thought of how Jia will react, and how devastated you’re going to be. He knows Jia’s history well enough to predict that she will somehow make this all your fault.

Jungkook's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white as he takes a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault, bug,” he says as softly as he can in his vexed state.

Your eyes fill with tears again, and a sad laugh escapes you. “Of course it is.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he signals right and pulls over to the side of the road. As soon as the engine cuts off, his hand finds yours, and he turns to face you. “Bug—”

“I told him, you know,” you sniffle through a short chuckle, cringing at what a shit-show this whole ordeal is. “I told him I loved him. And-and he said he loved me too.”

Jungkook’s heart stops. “He what?” He doesn’t know if you heard his words; he barely heard them himself. But when you purse your lips and nod sarcastically, he knows that you did.

“Yup. Said that I’m pretty and sweet and funny and that anyone would be lucky to have me.” You scoff bitterfly, using the hand not in the grasp of Jungkook’s to wipe your tears. “Apparently not anyone because he clearly didn’t want me. God, I’m so pathetic. This is all just so pathetic.”

You finish wiping your face and dry your hand on your jeans, your thumb gently rubbing over Jungkook’s knuckles. “Sorry, Gukkie,” you croak, sensing the way he tensed up and went quiet, probably due to all of your whining. “I’m done, promise. No more crying.”

Jungkook remains still, his brows furrowed as his gaze is fixed on nothing in particular, lost in thought. “Gukkie?” you ask softly, nudging his hand with your finger to snap him out of it. Nothing.

You squint at him playfully, deciding to poke his cheek this time. It works, though the reaction is faint—a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, but you catch it.

Your head tilts as you move your finger from his cheek down to his lips, ready to poke again, but your focus wavers. His lips. They’re so pink. So plump. So pretty.

“You are the furthest thing from pathetic, bug.” His voice is soft, drawing your attention back to his words, but your eyes remain on his lips. You smile at the way they shape each letter, his slight lisp curling around certain syllables.

A quiet sigh leaves you, and your hand drops to the buckle of his seatbelt, releasing it with a click. You unfasten your own as well before leaning over the center console. Jungkook’s hands move instinctively, helping guide you as you crawl into his lap, melting into his embrace.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer and making sure you’re comfortable in his lap. One hand plays gently with your ponytail while the other traces soothing circles on your back. You bury your face in the curve of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent—a blend of his cologne that defied the night and the comforting aroma of soft linen that always reminds you of him.

“Don’t deserve you,” you mumble, your breath tickling his skin. His muscles relax instantly, his body turning to mush under your weight.

Cuddling like this isn’t anything new for the two of you. It’s become your go-to after a rough day at work, or at uni. Whenever you meet him at his car after class, you more often than not end up in this exact position.

Jungkook remembers that one time a classmate walked past and saw you in his lap, assuming you were doing more than just seeking comfort from your best friend. You got so embarrassed that you stopped cuddling him in his car for a while. Jungkook hadn’t cared at all, but he realized it really bothered you. So, maybe he booked his Jeep in for window tinting that night.

But even though this is routine, it doesn’t stop Jungkook from from turning into a lovesick puppy when you do end up snuggling him. Because he does. Every single time.

“If anyone deserves me, it’s you, bug,” he responds quietly.

Your hand strokes through his tousled hair, your fingers occasionally scratching his scalp the way he likes, and Jungkook has to bite back a pathetic whine. The way you hold him, the way your nose brushes against his neck, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. “I love you, Gukkie. I’m sorry for being such a bad friend.”

“I love you too, bug,” he replies easily, tugging your shirt down as it rides up when you snuggle deeper into him. “But if you say one more untrue, negative thing about yourself, you’re walking to uni tomorrow.” The half-hearted threat is followed by a gentle nudge of his head.

You pull back slightly, observing him quietly. His eyes are closed, his head resting peacefully against the seat. He looks so content, so at ease, and you wish he could stay like this forever.

Jungkook senses your gaze and squints his eyes open, a single brow raising in question. He adjusts your ponytail with a soft touch, waiting for you to say something. But you just shake your head and give him a sweet smile before climbing off his lap and settling back into your seat.

“Can we go watch that anime with the girl you said reminds you of me?”

It’s been eight days since that night. Yoongi and Jia have reunited like nothing ever happened, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. He still hasn’t told her.

You’ve seen them at university during the weekdays since then, and everything is normal. Jia has been normal, Yoongi has been normal. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Three days ago, at the peak of your anxiety from keeping the secret, you caved.

The second you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, phone gripped tightly in your shaky hands. After six long rings, Yoongi finally picked up.

“Hey, Y/N—”

“I feel fucking sick, Yoongi. Please tell her. The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be. This isn’t okay.”

Yoongi’s sigh came low through the receiver, already giving you that sinking feeling in your chest. He's not going to tell her.

“She doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t concern her. It was just a simple mistake, and we weren’t even together at the time, bug. It's fine.”

It was just a simple mistake.

If you didn’t already feel pathetic, you sure as hell do now.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

You’ve tried convincing yourself of that ever since your phone call. But deep down, you know that if the situation were reversed, you’d want to know.

Not that you ever would be, because Jia would never do something as horrible as this to you.

Over the past week, three things have been haunting you: hurting Jia, being a shitty friend, and not feeling as heartbroken as you thought you would be when, in the span of twelve hours, Yoongi:

Told you he loved you (nice).

Slept with you (nice).

Said he was getting back with his ex-girlfriend (not so nice).

You’ve been in love with Yoongi for your entire adult life and so much of your childhood that you can’t even pinpoint when it all truly started.

When you think of Min Yoongi, you think of that warm, fuzzy feeling that swirls in your chest whenever someone you like walks into a room. The excitement of scanning the crowd at a party, hoping to catch a glimpse of their figure. That extra spark of joy when it was your joke that made them laugh.

Or, at least, that’s what you used to think.

Now when you think of Min Yoongi, you think of a friend. Someone you care about. Someone you appreciate. Someone you love… but aren’t in love with.

The events of last Friday night might very well be the reason for the sudden, drastic change in your heart. Maybe you’ve finally developed enough self-respect to stop chasing after someone who clearly doesn’t want you in that way.

You ignore the voice in the back of your mind that snarkily whispers, “Yeah, just… like… ten years late, honey.”

But, still. You aren’t 100% sure. And it’s driving you fucking mad.

Sure, you could just chalk it up to you being so hurt that the pain, you don’t know, numbed itself out?

But that wouldn’t be honest.

You know yourself. You’re an over-planner, an overthinker, and maybe (most definitely) an overreactor.

Over the years, you’d curated a long, arduous list of ways you thought you’d handle Yoongi’s rejection when the time inevitably came, hoping to better prepare yourself for it.

But not caring? Yeah, that wasn’t on the list. It wasn’t even in the fucking notebook.

You aren’t going to say that you’re unhappy about not being a weepy ball of tears and snot for an entire month, (which was on the list—quite high on it, in fact) but you just can’t help but be completely puzzled.

This isn’t you. You don’t… not care.

If there’s one thing you’ve always done, it’s care.

So, you can’t, for the life of you, figure out why you don’t.

"Caramel coffee frappé for Jeon Jung—huh?" you pause mid-callout, glancing up as the name on the cup registers in your brain. Your eyes land on your best friend, standing close on the other side of the pick-up counter.

"Hi, bug." Jungkook smiles softly, his hand already reaching for the drink that’s frozen in midair as you blink at him in surprise.

"Hi, Gukkie," you grin, the surprise melting into delight as you grab a paper straw from beside you and unwrap it for him. "What are you doing here? I don’t finish until four."

He shrugs, taking the straw from your outstretched hand and popping it into the cup. "Bored at home," he says, taking a long sip. "Thought I’d come early and—mmm, shit, bug, this is nice."

Your eyes crinkle in satisfaction as you watch him down almost a quarter of the frappé in one go. "I told you it’s the best drink we have," you nod knowingly, before a small frown starts to form. "But it’s not your usual, so I didn’t know it was yours… Should’ve told me you were here so I could’ve added my discount, Gukkie."

Jungkook just keeps drinking, hoping the brain freeze would distract him from the urge to reach across the counter and wipe the pretty little pout from your lips. "They gave it to me anyway," he mumbles around the straw. "Didn’t even ask."

And he wouldn’t have. Jungkook has money—and plenty of it. More than he’ll ever actually need. But it’s mostly blood money from his guilty father, which he has no problem in taking it without so much as a thank you. You know all this, yet you still badger him to use your 25% staff discount whenever he visits you at work. Cute.

You smile at that, glancing over at the register where Bella’s back from her break. She knows Jungkook’s with you, so it must’ve been her who added the discount. "Good. I’m glad," you hum, leaning against the counter, chin resting on your hand as you look at him. "What are you going to do? It’s only two-thirty."

Jungkook grabs a complimentary caramel drizzle bottle, aiming it over his cup. He probably doesn’t mean to be so rough—it’s just that he’s naturally strong—and you watch as nearly half the bottle spurts into his drink with one squeeze. “I’ll just hang out here until you’re done. Got any breaks left?”

You laugh, reaching over and grabbing the bottle from him. "You’re gonna get a stomachache, Gukkie." Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. "But yeah. One left. I’ll take it now?"

Jungkook scoops up some of the caramel with his straw, a slight smirk on his lips as he shoves it in his mouth. "Okay," he nods, gesturing toward the door with his head. "Come out for a smoke?"

The cool breeze is a gorgeous contrast to the warm, stuffy air behind the coffee bar as you burst through the door of the campus café. Jungkook holds it open for you, and as your shoe hits the pavement, you instinctively grab his hand, pulling him along with you.

It’s only another twenty seconds before you reach the secluded smoker’s spot near the outdoor stock corral. Leaning against the wall, you plop to the ground and giggle when Jungkook pretends to get yanked down with you, falling beside you with exaggerated force.

You shift into a criss-cross legged position, letting go of his hand so he can dig his lighter from his hoodie pocket. His shoulder becomes your makeshift pillow as you curl your right arm with his left, watching as he sparks the cigarette that dangles from his lips. Once the cherry glows red, he shoves the lighter away and rests his hand gently on your knee.

“How’s your shift going?” Jungkook asks, smoke curling from his mouth as he tilts his head away from you to blow it out of your direction.

“Good, it’s kinda quiet today,” you hum softly, eyes drifting shut. The mix of tobacco and Hermès cologne definitely shouldn’t make you feel so peaceful. But on him, it does.

“Good.” He nods, his gaze raking over you properly now that you’ve shrugged off your apron. Light-washed jeans, a little white singlet, black cotton cardi. He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before he comments, “Look so pretty today, bug.”

Your eyes flutter open as you blink up at him, beaming. “Really?”

He nods, holding the cigarette away with his right hand as he reaches over to tug gently at the cardigan with his left. “This new? S’nice.”

"It is," you nod happily, leaning back and twisting a little to show it off to him. He bites back a smile. “Just came yesterday. It's from my online Polly order. Remember?”

“Mhm,” he says, slipping an arm around you as you settle back into his side. A comfy silence stretches until you break it.

“Don’t wanna go to Yoongi and Jia’s tonight,” you murmur, your voice low, strained. The calm on your face shifts into something more pained, and Jungkook doesn't like that.

“Then we won’t,” he responds easily, tilting his chin up to exhale the smoke away from your face. “Movie night?”

You let out a sad sigh, head tilting up in time to catch the way the muscle in his jaw moves as he exhales. “Already canceled yesterday. If we do it again today, Jia will know something’s up.”

“So?” Jungkook turns to you, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he looks down at your glossy eyes. “I’ll call them. Tell them I’m sick and you need to take care of me or something,” he shrugs, flicking the ash off the cigarette.

“You think that’ll work?” You speak with a slight muffle as your cheek presses against his bicep.

“Don’t care if it doesn’t,” he replies honestly, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches you melt further into his hold.

You shake your head, amused, the motion shifting against his arm. “They’re our best friends, Gukkie—”

“You’re my best friend,” he cuts you off simply, finishing the cigarette and tossing the stub into the makeshift ashtray nearby.

Your eyebrows scrunch at his stubbornness. “And you’re mine.” You roll your eyes, trying to keep the smile pulling at your lips under control. “But you know what I mean…”

Jungkook sniffs, the chill finally settling in now that the cigarette's heat is gone. “Yeah, I know, bug. But you shouldn’t have to feel like this about going over there. Yoongi put you in an awkward fucking position, even if he doesn’t think so.”

You sigh again. “I feel like I’m overreacting about all of this. He says she doesn’t need to know, and maybe—”

“Such a pussy,” Jungkook mutters, annoyance evident as his thumb continues rubbing slow circles on your knee.

You snort at his bluntness, leaning into his arm. “I won’t say anything as long as he doesn’t want me to. But I can’t face her. Not outside of school. If I do, I might just word vomit everything the second I see her.”

Jungkook rests his head against yours, crooning. “Yeah, you do word vomit a lot.”

You close your eyes through a snicker, squeezing his arm teasingly. “Hm, thanks, Gukkie.”

A few quiet moments pass. Jungkook nudges his nose gently against the top of your head, his voice low when he speaks again. “You know you’re not ‘overreacting’ at all, right? Yoongi is a piece of shit for what he did. And even someone like Jia deserves the whole truth.”

You ignore his jab at Jia, having tried—and failed—many times to convince him that she’s actually a good person. “You keep acting like Yoongi did this all by himself, Gukkie. I’m just as guilty as he is.”

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “Not really.”

“Yes, really,” you insist, poking his side gently. “It was completely consensual—”

“I’m not just talking about the sex, bug,” Jungkook swallows hard, more than unenthusiastic about delving into the specifics of your night with Yoongi. One run-through was enough—and even then, he barely held back the contents of his stomach.

“It’s everything else. Before and after. Telling you he loved you like it was some obligation when you admitted your feelings? Dropping the news about getting back with Jia how he did? You’d been awake for five fucking minutes, bug. You were naked and vulnerable in his fucking bed.”

Jungkook pauses roughly to regain his composure, and you instinctively move closer, feeling his anger on your behalf. You’re about to tell him he’s right, that you understand, but he isn’t done.

“And then for him to not even give his girlfriend the bare fucking minimum of being able to make an informed decision about their relationship? Fucking coward. What if she doesn’t want to stay with him after finding out? He’ll have already taken months of her life from her. Yoongi is prolonging the pain for everyone involved. And I don’t know how long he intends to keep this shit going, but if Jia catches on, and she takes it out on you? Bug, I’ll fucking kill him—”

“Gukkie,” you gently interrupt, shifting your arms from around his bicep to wrap around his waist instead.

As you hug him close, your legs shift to tangle with his because you know he likes the contact. His rigid muscles gradually begin to ease, and you settle against him with a soft sigh. “I’m so sorry, Gukkie. I should’ve thought about what this might bring up for you.”

Although not an exact replica, the situation had similarities to what Jungkook witnessed in his childhood; his father being an unfaithful piece of shit to his mom.

It began with small actions like working late, claiming extra shifts on weekends... withholding the whole truth from his partner.

Jungkook’s mom, an amaing woman and a second to your own, stayed in the marriage for as long as she could—for Jungkook and his older brother, Jisung. But eventually, she realized leaving was the best thing she could do for them.

You were in your early teens when the Jeons temporarily moved in with your family until his parents settled their divorce and his mom found a new place for them to go.

Jungkook’s father, a powerful and successful proprietor, was his role model during his entire childhood, and when he lost that bond, it broke him.

Even though some of your best memories together came from that period—sleepovers, movie marathons, him teaching you how to sing—you knew the divorce had a greater impact on Jungkook than he liked to let on.

However, he still likes to joke darkly that if he could relive those days with you, he’d go through the divorce all over again without hesitation. That always results in a wack in the arm from you.

Jungkook shakes his head and his lips part, no doubt to tell you not to apologize, you butt in again. “You’re right, Gukkie. What Yoongi did, what he’s doing, it’s wrong.” His hand moves from your knees to curl around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Okay, this won’t just go away. Jia deserves to know.” You glance up at him to find his eyes already on you. “Tonight?”

Jungkook’s gaze softens. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, careful not to disturb your tidy bun. As you trace slow circles on his waist with your fingertips, he pulls out his phone and shows you the time—2:58pm. You gasp, scrambling to your feet.

Jungkook laughs, standing up and letting you drag him back toward the café, ready to take the blame from your shift manager, Jimin, for you being back fifteen minutes late. Park Jimin loves him, after all.

“Bug! Kookie!” Jia’s excited voice rings out from the room she shares with Yoongi as you and Jungkook step into the oh-so-familiar apartment.

Yoongi closes the door quietly behind you both, the hug he usually greets you with noticeably absent. Instead, he reaches out to clasp Jungkook’s hand in a brief bro-shake, which Jungkook returns half-heartedly, before Yoongi heads straight for the kitchen.

Jungkook watches Yoongi’s retreat with a slight furrow in his brow, his jaw tightening as he registers Yoongi’s failure to acknowledge you at all. When he looks over to you, you just shrug, not as bothered by his childish antics as you thought you would be.

After your shift ended, Jungkook drove you back to your place to grab a change of clothes. Then, you headed to his apartment so you could use his shower—the one with the best fucking water pressure ever.

Your lease is up at the end of the year, and then you'll finally be moving into Jungkook's place.

Living on your own for senior year seemed like a good idea when you decided to move out of the dorms, but that novelty wore off real fucking fast. Being away from Jungkook was not ideal and you hated not being able to see him whenever you wanted. His dorm wasn’t too far, but it was still on the other side of campus, and overnight visits to dorms of the opposite gender were prohibited.

Jungkook didn’t care, of course—he snuck over anyway, stacking up a few too many strikes from student monitors and professors who caught him.

So, when you moved from the dorms into a your cute little flat, Jungkook did the same, finding one just a few minutes away. There were no free spaces at your building for him to take, so he told you to move into his instead—that plenty of apartments were available. But when you saw the rent price, you just laughed. You knew he had every intention of covering it anyway, but you couldn't do that to him, no matter how much you wanted to live together.

That’s why you’ve been working more lately. Shifts at the campus café during the week and extra hours at Seoul Cinema on weekends. With what you’ve saved, plus a little help from your mom, you’ll soon be moving in with your best friend and gaining 24/7 access to him and that gorgeous fucking shower.

Earlier, when you were about to step into the bathroom, you called Jia to confirm what time she wanted you guys over. That’s when she casually revealed that the plan for tonight had changed—that everyone was heading to Joonie’s, your friend group’s favorite club, instead.

Panic flared in your chest and you almost blurted everything to her right there on the phone. Sensing it, Jungkook took the phone from your hand, calmly telling Jia that you’d be there at nine before hanging up.

You poked at him for ending the call without letting her respond, but deep down, you were relieved. You knew you had to tell her everything in person. If not for the respect of your thirteen-year-long friendship, but because doing it over the phone just felt so cowardly.

You know telling her tonight, before you all head out to drink, is risky. She could blow up, scream, and tell you to fuck off—which you’re fully expecting—but at least it’ll be in the privacy of her own home.

So now, here you are, standing awkwardly in the apartment that’s haunted your dreams for the past eight straight nights. Gone are your comfy pants and Jungkook’s warm hoodie. Instead, you’re squeezed into a black mini-skirt and a tight little top, wishing you were anywhere else in the world.

Deflated, you let Jungkook take the bottle of tequila from your arms as you make your way toward the room where Jia's still getting ready. The door is slightly ajar, and you give it a gentle knock.

“Ji?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, so you clear your throat and take a cautious step inside when she tells you to come in. As soon as you catch sight of your beautiful best friend, a smile automatically paints your lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Buggy!” Jia grins, snapping the cap onto her eyeliner before tossing it aside and striding over to you. When the long-legged girl extends her arms for a hug, you embrace her tightly.

“Hey, Ji. You look so good."

“You too, babe. You wore red like I asked! God, we look so hot matching.” Jia smirks as she pulls away, letting her eyes roam over your outfit before tilting her head in thought.

You swallow, waiting patiently for her assessment. Usually, she finds one or two minor things that could be improved for your clubbing outfits, and you pray she doesn’t find anything, because it’s a thirty-minute drive back to your place to make the adjustments.

Not that you think that tonight's plans will still go ahead after what you’re about to say.

To your surprise and relief, she nods in approval before turning back to her floor-length mirror. Jack Harlow plays lowly from her phone that rests on her dresser, and she hums along to it, fixing a few pieces of hair that have fallen out of place.

When you’re quiet for a long moment, something usually very out of the ordinary for you, Jia catches your eye in the mirror and her head tilts. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow. Your mouth opens. Then closes.

Jia’s brows knit together as she turns away from the mirror to face you directly. “What is it, bug? Is it Yoongi?”

Your heart plummets. “Wh-what?”

“He told me you stayed over last Friday? After Kookie took me to my mom’s?” Jia continues, her tone curious but confused. “Said you thought you could handle his whiskey, and he didn’t want to leave you on the couch, so you slept in our room. I almost didn’t believe it…”

“I—” you stammer.

“As if you’d ever willingly touch that disgusting whiskey he drinks. You can barely handle soju.” Jia chuckles.

“HAH! Yeah, you know me! Can’t handle my hard liquor… Would-would put me right on my ass!”

Jia’s amused squint deepens as she eyes you closely. “You’re acting weird.” She tilts her head with a teasing smile. “Did you have one of Kookie’s special cigarettes again? Because you know those are—”

“Jia.” Fuck. Word vomit. It’s happening. “I need to—”

“Change those shoes? I know, I was going to say something before, but you looked kinda sad… Hold on, I’ll—”

“No, Jia. I have to tell—”

The bedroom door swings open before you can finish. The words die in your throat as you whip your head toward the entrance. Tears well in your eyes as you turn to see who it is. Out of the two most likely options it could’ve been, unfortunately, it is not the one you hoped it was.

Yoongi stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable as his gaze flickers between you and Jia. The tension in the room rises dramatically, but Jia remains unfazed.

“Jagi,” Jia greets him with a bright, oblivious smile. “Just telling buggy how cute she looks in red. Doesn’t she look amazing?”

Yoongi nods at Jia, but his eyes are locked on you. There’s guilt swimming in his gaze, but it’s overpowered by something stronger. Desperation.

Earlier today, after talking to Jia, you called Yoongi to confess that you couldn’t keep it hidden anymore. That you were going to tell her tonight.

His reaction was beyond unhappy. After five minutes of him practically begging you to keep quiet, he abruptly ended the call when he realized you wouldn’t change your mind.

“Jagiya, can I borrow Y/N for a sec—”

“No.” The words leave your lips so firmly that you’re almost surprised.

Behind Yoongi, you catch sight of Jungkook’s approaching figure. His head tilts slightly—his nonverbal way of asking if you’re okay in situations where you guys can’t speak. Ignoring Yoongi’s dejected look, you give Jungkook a small nod before turning back to Jia.

“What’s going on?” Jia’s eyes dart between you and Yoongi. “Why are you both acting so weird?”

“I’m so sorry, Jia—” You begin, your voice shaking.

“Y/N,” Yoongi pleads, but you refuse to look at him.

“Yoongi, just give them some space, man—”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do, Kook,” Yoongi spits back, taking a further step into the bedroom.

Your brows furrow as your head snaps toward Yoongi. “Don’t talk to him like that. I’m telling her—”

“Tell me what?” Jia huffs as she steps forward, and soon the couple are both staring at you with two very different strands of frustrated expressions.

Your heart pounds at both the lack of distance and the looks you’re receiving, but you push through. You can do this. “Ji, on Friday—”

“Jagiya, wait, don’t liste—”

Jungkook’s scoff cuts Yoongi off, and you can see both men getting more and more heated by the second. He doesn’t take his eyes off Yoongi when he speaks to you. “Bug, take Jia into the living room. I need to talk to Yoongi.”

Yoongi turns to glare at Jungkook. “Stay the fuck out of this, Jeongguk.”

“Or what?” Jungkook’s reply is immediate, his brows raising as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

“Y/N, just spit it out. What are you saying?” Jia demands, her voice rising with frustration.

“I—”

“Don’t, Y/N,” Yoongi warns, stepping forward, but Jungkook stops him.

“Stop fucking walking closer to her, Yoongi—”

“You have no fucking right, Y/N—”

“Y/N, just tell me—”

“No, Jagi, stop—”

“Yoongi, fuck off! Just let her tell me—”

“I slept with him.”

All the noise in the room dies out at your words. Jungkook is standing beside you now, his arm brushing lightly against yours, but you can barely feel it. All you can feel is Jia’s eyes on you, her expression completely unreadable.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I slept with Yoongi when Jeongguk was taking you to your mom’s. Jia, you need to know how fucking sorry I am. I wasn’t thinking straight, and-and it just happened—”

“It just happened?” Jia’s voice cuts through your apology with a pitying laugh. Her eyes never leave yours, not even to glance at her boyfriend, who’s running his hand through his hair roughly, his eyes red-rimmed. For someone who said it was so unimportant and didn’t matter, he sure isn’t acting like it.

“No, I—no. It didn’t just happen. I did it. And I can’t explain how fucking sorry I am—”

“Yeah, you said that already,” Jia interrupts, her tone dismissive. Her gaze rakes over your body as though she’s bored.

You stand there, struggling to find the right words. “I know I broke your trust, Jia, and I’m so s—”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, bug…” Jia rolls her eyes, brushing her hair back over her shoulder before turning to check her reflection in the mirror.

Your mouth snaps shut.

Where’s the screaming? Where’s the kicking you out of her apartment? Where’s the—

“Who initiated it?” Jia’s tone is uninterested as she runs a finger gently around the edge of her slightly smudged lip liner.

You glance at Yoongi, but his eyes are glued to the floor. “I don’t remember,” you admit quietly. The moment was a blur—his confession had thrown you off balance. It could’ve been him, but maybe it was you.

Jia gives you a skeptical look through the mirror, as if she doesn’t believe you, but then she turns to Yoongi. “Who initiated it, Jagi?”

As Yoongi hesitates, you feel Jungkook’s eyes on you again. You glance up at him, the boy who had been seething with anger just minutes ago, only to find him looking at you in concern. Blinking away the tears, you reach out to brush the back of his hand with your pinky finger.

“I did, Jagiya. I’m sorry. I was hurt that you left me, and I needed to forget,” Yoongi finally says.

His explanation seems to bring some relief to Jia’s face, and you brace yourself for the inevitable ache in your chest at his words. But it doesn’t come. If anything, Jungkook is more affected by what he had to say, judging by the way his jaw tightens and his hand clenches into a fist beneath your pinky.

“Okay,” Jia nods at Yoongi before reaching for her clutch on the dresser. As she casually tucks her phone and keys inside, you glance over at Jungkook, your confusion evident, but the look he returns is calm—like he expected this.

With a roll of her eyes, Jia glances back at the three of you. “Did you bring the tequila like I asked?”

When her eyes meet yours, you nod instinctively, trying your best to mask your unease. “Yes. It’s, um, in the kitchen. Jia, is everything—”

“We weren’t together, Y/N. It’s not like you’re still fucking… are you?”

“No.” You choke instantly, almost shuddering at the thought.

“Okay, then. Let’s start pres and then go.” With that, Jia walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, completely dumbfounded.

This isn’t what you were expecting.

You’ve never experienced Jia’s anger firsthand, but you’ve witnessed it many times before, and this is the last reaction you could’ve ever expected.

Maybe she’s in shock, and it’ll come ot later. Or maybe… maybe she really doesn’t think it’s a big deal? She’s so incredible like that, so understanding.

The room stays quiet as Jungkook remains rooted beside you. Yoongi lets out a short sniffle before trailing after Jia without glancing at either of you. The door slams shut behind him, leaving you and Jungkook alone in his bedroom.

As soon as Yoongi’s gone, Jungkook turns to face you, the warmth of his body washing a sense of comfort over you that you don’t deserve in the slightest.

“Are you alright, bug?” he asks carefully, his hand lifting to adjust the strap of your top that had shifted slightly across your shoulder.

“Of course I’m okay. I just… I don’t understand, she’s not even mad at me—”

“Good. She shouldn’t be—”

“What? Yes, she should, Jeongguk.” His brows furrow. “Please, stop acting like I did nothing wrong—”

“You think I didn’t notice how you took all the blame when you were telling her?”

“It doesn’t matter how it came off, Jeongguk.” His expression tenses further.  “It doesn’t matter how I sugar coat it. The fact is, we messed up. And she’s so fucking nice that she didn’t even—”

“Nice?” He almost scoffs, his lips twisting into a wry smile. “Bug, did you really not see that response for what it truly was? Come on…”

“What are you talking about?” You try to keep your voice down despite the door being closed and a random Drake song pounding through the walls. “You saw the same thing I did! She barely even said anything—”

“Exactly. She barely said anything. We’ve known her for how many years? And when has Seong Jia ever not said something? Think about it, bug. She’s going to hold onto this and use it against you—”

“Why do you always think the worst? Why do you think so poorly of her—”

“Because I see the way she fucking treats you, Y/N!” Jungkook takes a step back, his voice rising as frustration pulses through him. “Even if you don’t see it, I see it.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. In the fifteen years you’ve known Jungkook, you’ve only had two heated arguments—this being the third. And, though you push the thought aside, you can’t ignore that all three fights were about Jia.

“This—this blind loyalty you have for me is flattering,” you mutter bitterly through your tears, “but you’re wrong. She’s a good friend.”

“Blind loyalty?” He forces a laugh, incredulous. “The only thing blind is you for not being able to tell when someone’s treating you like shit!”

“Yeah?” you scoff.

“Yeah.” He nods mockingly, taking a step closer. “You think you haven’t earned my fucking loyalty?”

“Oh, I know I have.” You cross your arms defensively. “If I’ve earned anything, it’s your fucking loyalty! But you need to acknowledge that I can make mistakes too—”

“I do acknowledge when you make mistakes.”

“No, you don’t, Jeongguk!” Your hands fly out in a frustrated gesture as he closes the distance between you even more. “You didn’t when I overfed your goldfish and it died from bloating! You didn’t when I signed up for that People Magazine free trial using your card, and you got charged for an entire year! And now you’re doing it again—”

“That shit doesn’t matter, bug!”

“You’re saying this doesn’t matter?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“How could it possibly not matter—”

“Because I know what it feels like to be so in love with somebody that it consumes you.”

Your mouth snaps shut. As Jungkook continues, his gaze remains fixed on you, but his eyes are distant. “That any sign of that feeling truly being reciprocated would make you do unspeakable fucking things.”

The frustration coursing through your veins fizzles out, replaced by a sudden, painful wave of pure jeal—confusion.

“What?” It comes out as a whisper.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, his eyes just continuing to trace the lines of your face.

“You love somebody?” The bitterness in your tone is obvious, but you don’t can't stop. “We tell each other everything… and you didn’t care to tell me that you’re in love with someone?”

His silence is so unsettling that it prompts a painful laugh from you. “Oh, okay.” You give a sharp nod, “if that’s how you want to be. Fine. I’ll just start keeping fucking secrets from you too, then.”

The lack of response from him only fuels the fire inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words keep pouring out. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Why wouldn’t you tell me? Is it someone from uni? What the fuck, Jeongguk—”

“It’s nobody you know.”

“I—” You stare at him, your eyes wide, disbelief flooding your system as your arms drop to your sides. “I know everyone you know!”

This time, you don’t even try to stop the tears that are building behind your lashes from spilling over. But the fiery, sour feeling burning a hole in your gut is too strong, too raw, and you’re not ready to acknowledge what it might mean.

“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But don’t lie to me.” Your voice trembles at the end as you lift a shaky hand to wipe under your nose, choking back a sob as tears slip into your breath.

Jungkook’s expression softens as he takes a step forward, cautiously reaching out his hand to touch your arm.

He tries not to think that your reaction is anything but a best friend being upset that their best friend didn’t tell them about an important part of their life.

He tries not to think that your reaction is because you can’t stand to think of him being in love with someone else.

He tries not to think about how much every cell in his body has ignited at the thought of you being possessive of him. Jealous of the person he’s in love with.

But it’s hard. So fucking hard. Because all he can see is the pain in your eyes, the hurt etched across your face.

Such a sight would usually bring him to his knees and have him doing anything to make the pain go away. But now, as fucked up as it is, all he feels is hope. Hope that maybe the reason you’re so upset is because you feel the same way he does.

“I’ve never lied to you, bug.” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your bare arms gently.

“Hm,” you croak, wiping more tears away. “Until now.”

“Until now,” Jungkook echoes quietly, lifting his hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that won't fucking stop.

You don’t know why you’re crying harder than you have in God knows how long. Why you don’t push Jungkook’s hand away even though you’re mad at him. Why you’re even mad in the first place.

Well, like you said earlier: you are an overreactor.

But it’s not like you and Jungkook haven’t had lovers in the past.

You had your first boyfriend last year, a sweet senior named Kim Taehyung. He was a great guy—kind, easygoing, gorgeous. He got along with most of your friends, and you were especially glad Jungkook liked him as his approval was the toughest to earn.

But something about Jungkook must have rubbed Taehyung the wrong way.

Before you and Tae officially started dating, you’d first met at a frat party that you attended with Jungkook as Yoongi and Jia had stayed in that night. The two of them got on super well, and you guys had even teamed up for beer pong together.

But after a few dates, and you eventually saying yes when he asked to go steady, things began to change.

Taehyung started asking you to sleep over at his frat more often, something you didn't really like to do (and something Jungkook certainly didn't like you doing either).

Soon, he was asking for details on which friends you were with whenever you hung out with someone. He even began to ask to switch to FaceTime calls when you’d mention specific names and leave out others.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You’re a naturally clingy person too, so maybe it was just his way of showing he cared. But when he requested that you spend less time with just one friend in particular, that was where you drew the line.

It confused you, especially since you’d already cut back from spending all of your free time with Jungkook to about 40%, but he still wanted more. You’d told Taehyung from the start that Jungkook was your best friend and a huge part of your life, that you guys have always been close. He had no problem with that. Well, in the beginning, at least.

Naturally, you told Jungkook about Taehyung’s request, and you’d never seen him so angry. You reassured him not to worry, that it all wasn't sitting well with you, that you'd be ending things soon.

Jungkook relaxed at that.

He also dropped to his knees that night and sent up a prayer to the Goddess that it was finally fucking over. But you didn’t need to know that part.

As for Jungkook, he’s never been in relationship. He has been with two girls, though. Park Iseul and Cho Jiwon.

Iseul was great. You and her shared an Economics lecture, and you even used to sit next to her during classes.

She’d usually ask about Jungkook, and you’d give her updates, letting her know he was doing well. But whenever you’d try to pass on her messages to Jungkook, he would just refuse to hear them, asking you to stop sitting near her.

It seemed like Iseul picked up on the hint since she gradually found other seats during class, and so did you. You didn’t mind; she was still super nice, but you did scold Jungkook for his behavior. He apologized, but only to you, not to her.

Your encounter with Cho Jiwon, however, was… different.

‹ ‹ ‹

“Uhhh…”

The voice caught you off guard, making you turn from shutting the door behind you. Sitting at Jungkook’s kitchen island with a bowl of muesli, was a female around your age. You glanced at your surroundings, then the key in your hand to make sure this was indeed your best friend's apartment. It was.

“Oh, hello.” You greeted the pretty girl with a nod, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Hello?” she responded, confused. Her eyes roamed over your Seoul Cinema uniform before narrowing slightly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” you responded quietly. Unsure of what to say or do, you hesitated. “And… um, you?”

“Jiwon,” she replied, squinting a little. “Are you his girlfriend or something? Because he said he was single, but I should’ve known; he literally stopped in the middle of sex last night to answer a text…” Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head, “Wait, what was your name again?”

You blinked, a frown edging onto your face for her. You opened your mouth to repeat yourself when Jungkook stumbled out of his bedroom, rubbing a sleepy hand over his face.

“Bug?" He croaked, making his way toward you. "You okay? I was gonna come get you in a bit.” His bare chest was still warm as he wrapped his arms around you.

You pulled back from the hug with a quick apology. “Sorry, I got ready early and just walked over,” you said, gesturing toward Jiwon, still munching on her cereal. “Didn’t know you had someone over, though. I should’ve texted. I can ask Taehyung to drop me off at work and we can reschedule?”

Jungkook looked down at you, confused, then followed your gaze to Jiwon, who was still seated at his kitchen counter. He blinked in surprise, as though he had only just registered her presence. “Uh…are you okay?”

Your gaze snapped to his in surprise, and Jiwon’s expression turned sour. “What?”

“I thought you were leaving…” Jungkook’s brows knitted in confusion, eyeing her attire, which consisted only of his t-shirt. He hated that you were seeing this. “Did you need money for an Uber?”

“Jeongguk,” you frowned, shifting your bag on your shoulder as you glared at him. But Jiwon just rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“You could do so much better, girl,” she sneered at you, tugging off Jungkook’s t-shirt and tossing it at him as she got up. He caught it with little reaction, watching indifferently as she headed toward his room in her bra and underwear.

You were about to nudge him to apologize when she reemerged in her dress a moment later, throwing a glare over her shoulder. “Way better than a lying cheater, anyway.”

You opened your mouth to clarify. “No, Jiwon, we’re not—”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Jihyo,” Jungkook cut in boredly. “So, did you need money for that Uber?”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him in utter disbelief while Jiwon just shook her head with a scoff. She angrily brushed past him and left, slamming the door behind her.

“Jeongguk, that was so rude.”

Jungkook just shrugged, tipping her cereal down the disposal and rinsing the bowl. “Bug, I already told her I had something to do in the morning and I’d need her to leave by 8 if she wanted to stay over.”

“I wish you would've told me. I wouldn’t have just barged in without calling first. That was so awkward.”

“You never need to call when you’re coming over,” he gave you a look. “And it wasn’t awkward.” He shrugged again, opening his dishwasher and putting the singular bowl and spoon in before starting a cycle.

“It was a little awkward,” you murmured, sighing. “You could have at least offered her a ride home.”

“Okay, okay, bug. I’ll repent for my sins later,” he nodded, walking over to slip your bag off your shoulder and set it on the couch. “You okay, though? Why’d you come over so early? I thought we were seeing the 10 o'clock movie since your shift starts at 1?”

You just shrugged, eyes shifting to the floor. Jungkook’s big hands cupped your face, gently tilting it up so you were looking at him. "Hm?" he prompted, squishing your cheeks slightly, coaxing your lips into a cute little pout.

When he let go enough for you to speak, you mumbled, “Dunno…haven’t seen you in a few days. Missed you.”

His brows knitted together, and his arms slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. “I missed you more, bug. What’s up, though? Did something happen?”

You exhaled, leaning into his chest as your arms wrapped around him. “No, just…feels weird not seeing you every day. I don't like it.”

His heart thumped at your words, and his fingers traced small circles along your back. “I get it. It's weird for me too. But your boyfriend probably doesn't like it very much, hm?”

You pulled back slightly to frown, “Gukkie—”

“Kidding,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, resting his head in the nape of your neck. He was most certainly not kidding. “I’m gonna shower, and then we can have some breakfast before we go, okay?”

You nodded, scratching his back a little as he pulled away, heading toward the bathroom while you settled on the couch to wait.

Breakfast was yummy. The movie was great. You and Taehyung broke up a week later.

› › ›

“Can you please tell me who it is?” you ask, looking up at him with a sniffle, feeling utterly defeated. You need to know.

Jungkook has never denied you when you ask him for something. Ever.

You would usually never take advantage of such a gift, but right now, you’re desperate. You know that this feeling won’t go away until he tells you. You need to know.

“I can.” His hand still rests on your cheek, his thumb pausing its soft caress as your tears finally stop. But even then, he doesn’t meet your gaze, his eyes fixed somewhere on the lower part of your face.

“Will you?” you ask, trying to catch his eye, but his gaze remains fixed on the bottom half of your face.

“I will,” he confirms tensely, reluctantly lifting his eyes to meet yours. His irises are a little darker than usual. “But I won’t tell you their name... I want you to guess for me, bug.”

Your brows furrow harshly, and you take a step back, not in the mood for games. But Jungkook immediately follows suit, as if he expected your movements. He easily closes the distance between you without losing the contact between your face and his hand.

“You’re really playing with me right now? Seriously, Jeong—”

“She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Well, okay then.

You stop yourself from flinching, eyes snapping up to his to find them already locked on yours.

“She’s so fucking funny. Makes me laugh harder than anyone else in the world. And she doesn't even try.”

Yep. You’ve heard enough.

You swallow hard and raise your hand in an attempt to stop him, your mind racing for words. The fingers of his free hand wrap easily around your risen palm, bringing it to rest flat against his chest.

“All she has to do is walk in the room, and my heart beats so fucking hard that I’m scared she’s gonna hear it one day.”

You feel it—the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Your breath catches in your throat, and when your eyes meet his, you try to look away from the intensity, but you can’t.

No matter how foggy your vision becomes with tears, no matter how badly your hand trembles against his chest, no matter how hard it is to breathe with him looking at you like that—you can’t look away.

“I check my phone every five fucking minutes when we’re apart, just to see if she’s thinking about me like I’m thinking about her.”

Jungkook’s figure becomes a watery, blurry blob because you refuse to blink, as if the millisecond that your eyes are closed will somehow cause you to miss something crucial.

“She’s the first person I think of when I open my eyes in the morning,” he says quietly, “and the last when I fall asleep. I’m reminded of her by every single fucking thing. Even a stupid little toy figurine that looks nothing like her.”

At that, something inside you snaps, and without a second thought, you shove his hands away from you. Before he can react, your hands slide up to the back of his neck, pulling him down and pressing his mouth firmly against yours. Your eyes fall shut at the warmth of his lips, and then it happens.

Bursts of color explode behind your closed eyelids, vibrant and electric, filling every corner of your mind.

A surge of relief sweeps through your veins, washing away every single thing that came before this moment in a wave of perfect clarity.

Your fingers tighten their grip on the back of his neck, feeling his surprise blend into pure pleasure. His hands slip to your sides as he pulls you closer, every muscle in his body loosening as he melts into the kiss. It’s warm, soft, sweet. Your mouths are closed, eyes shut, simply savoring the feeling of being with the person you care about most in the entire world.

You’re happy. You’re relieved. And for the first time in the last eight days, you’re not confused in the slightest.

"Any guesses?" Jungkook murmurs against your lips as you pull back slightly for air.

You laugh through the tears that had spilled out before you kissed, as his hands lift from your hips to brush them away. "Hmm," you hum, leaning into his hand on your face, "Jia?"

“Ooh, close…” He squints teasingly with a smirk, his thumb swiping away a tear that had fallen to your pouty lip. “Just think, like, five times less bitchy and ten times hotter.”

A watery laugh escapes you, and you fall forward, resting your forehead against his chest. You sniffle and shake your head. “I can’t believe you just confessed your love for me in Yoongi and Jia’s bedroom.” Jungkook’s soft chuckle fills the room, making your heart flutter. “That’s such a you thing to do,” you add as you pull back to look up at him.

“You’re not wrong,” he replies, his smile softening as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

His hand finds yours, and he glances toward the door, a faint awareness in his eyes. He’s not sure how many songs have played while you’ve been holed up together, but it’s been long enough to raise suspicion. “C’mon, bug,” he murmurs, gently tugging you toward the door.

But your brows knit together as he tries to lead you out. “What?”

Jungkook turns back, his expression relaxed and a little curious. “Hm?”

“I—” You pause, caught off guard by how casually he seems ready to move on. “You don’t want to talk about… things?”

His eyes glimmer with amusement as he steps closer. “Things?”

“You just told me you’re in love with me, and kissed me, and—"

“You kissed me,” he teases softly, his lips quirking up when you glare at him with the cutest, slightly swollen pout.

“You don’t want me to… say anything? To say it back?” you ask quietly, letting him take your other hand into his hold so he has both of them, tugging you a little closer.

Jungkook’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes track the movement, unable to forget the way they felt against yours. He’s so close now that the heat of his body warms the space between you, the scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of the cigarette he had on the drive over swirling around you.

“I didn’t tell you for something in return, bug,” he says gently, his thumbs tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “I told you because you wanted to know,” he adds with a slight shrug, “and because I wanted you to know.”

The simplicity of his words takes you by surprise. There’s no pressure in his gaze, no expectation. Your heart aches in a way you’ve never felt before.

“And if I want to say it back?” you whisper, eyes looking between his.

Jungkook does the same, looking for any trace of uncertainty in yours before asking quietly, "Do you mean it?"

“More than I think I even understand,” the words tumble out before you can second-guess them.

"Then say it."

“I’m so in love with you, Gukkie,” you whisper instantly, as if it were a command, “I thought I knew what love was, but… you’re love. Everything about you, everything you do is love.” Jungkook swallows hard, his thumbs still tracing softly over your knuckles. “We’re still so young, and there’s so much more to do… But I want to do it all with you.”

“Fucking hell, bug,” he mutters under his breath before his lips crash back into yours.

This kiss is deep, urgent, like he’s trying to tell you something through it.

And, god, Jungkook had always been a good storyteller.

Your hands slip free from his, finding the sides of his neck, grasping for balance as his hands slide to the small of your back, steadying you when you almost stumble.

Your fingers curl into the warm, strong muscles of his shoulders, and you return his kiss with the same intensity, the taste of him filling all of your senses. His lips feel warmer, smokier, like everything about him is more intense now. And in that moment, everything else just fades away.

When you part your lips, an ache for more already tugging at you, his tongue slips in like it’s been waiting the whole time. A soft, satisfied hum escapes you, and he mirrors it, his sound a little throatier as his tongue intertwines with yours.

Jungkook’s hands slide over you—your sides, your hips, your back—as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, like he’s afraid this is the only time he’ll ever have the chance. The soft, wet sounds of your tongues moving together fill your ears, and you know that if you have any say in it, this will be far from the last time.

A low groan bubbles in Jungkook’s throat when you press yourself closer to him and his fingers instinctively tighten around your sides.

Then he hears it.

Jungkook pulls back quickly but carefully, his gaze lingering on yours as his hands smooth over your hair, fixing where his fingers had tousled it. His thumb brushes over your shoulder, adjusting the strap of your top that had slipped down again, while his other hand runs along the edge of your lips to fix your smudged lip gloss He licks his own lips to remove any residue and you pout, about to ask if he’s okay when the door swings open.

“Hellooo? What's taking so long? The Uber’s here and the guys are already at Joonie's.” Jia bellows, raising her brows as she glances between the two of you. “Come on, you can pregame in the car.”

Jungkook looks at you, waiting. You nod at her, your fingers brushing against his as you step back, clearing your throat and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Okay, Ji, sorry. We’re coming.”

She just nods, leaving the door open as she turns back to Yoongi, who’s waiting with her jacket. He hands it over wordlessly before leading her outside.

Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you, quiet and searching. “You sure you still want to go?”

You take a breath, nodding. “Yeah, if Jia still wants me to come, it’s the least I can do. Do you still want to go?”

His lips press together for a second, but he nods, his hand sliding down to interlock with yours as you both walk out of the bedroom. He grabs his car keys from the counter on the way, but as you approach the door, a frown creases your forehead.

“You’re not driving us, right, Gukkie?” you ask, eyeing the keys in his hand.

He glances down at you, a faintly amused smile touching his lips. “Yeah, I am, bug. Why? Did you want to take the Uber with them?”

You shake your head, but the frown doesn’t leave. “No, but... you’re not gonna drink tonight?”

Jungkook shrugs lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before he lets it go so you can grab your mini purse from the counter and slip it over your shoulder. He reclaims your hand when you’re done, guiding you out of the apartment. “Not tonight, bug.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him pause, and you glance up at him. “Why? Is everything okay? I don’t like drinking when you don't drink.” Your voice softens, lips forming a small pout as he presses the down arrow for the elevator.

He smiles at the sight, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I just wanted to drive you home, that’s all, bug.” His smile turns slightly amused. “But I’ll drink if you want to. You know I’m always down to drink with you.”

Your face brightens, leaning into his side to give him a soft thank you. As the elevator dings open, your phone vibrates in your clutch. You pull it out and giggle at the screen, tilting it toward Jungkook. He rolls his eyes, his lips twitching as he ushers you inside the elevator when it reaches your floor.

[9:57pm] From: Ji HELLOOO???? oh my god get down here. this fucking freak is trying to charge us twice for making him wait like two minutes

The crisp night air envelopes you as soon as you and Jungkook step outside the apartment complex, refreshing your skin and helping to calm your racing mind.

When you had both arrived at Yoongi and Jia's earlier in the night, you received a very quizzical look from your best friend as you climbed out of his Jeep.

‹ ‹ ‹

You extended your hand, waiting for him to come around to your side of the car before intertwining your fingers. Instead of locking the car, he paused, glancing back through the windows as if searching for something.

“Gukkie? You okay?” you asked, tilting your head at his hesitation. “I have your phone in my purse, remember?”

“Bug, where’s your jacket?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he looked over your outfit. He gave the Jeep’s seats another quick scan, hoping you’d just forgotten to grab it.

You shook your head, giving his hand a little tug to urge him forward. “I didn’t bring one. Couldn't find one that worked with my outfit. It’s okay, Gukkie, I'm not cold.”

But he didn’t budge. “Bug…” he said with a sigh, eyes scanning the backseat to see if he had left one of his jackets in there that you could wear. Nothing.

“Gukkie,” you laughed at the way his frown deepened, tugging his hand again. “You don’t have a jacket either, hm. Besides, there’s a small chance we’re even going out tonight anyway...”

Your voice softened, and Jungkook paused, sighing as the urge to drive home and grab you a jacket waned a bit. He pressed the lock button on his key fob with reluctance and let you pull him along up the path to the building.

His free hand slid up your arm as you walked, checking that your skin was still warm. It was, luckily for you, or he would've been plopping you back in the passenger seat to go back and get you a coat no matter how much you complained.

Jungkook knew Jia’s firm stance against jackets and outerwear—always “ruining the aesthetic" or something of the sort. He didn’t really pay much attention to what she said unless it involved you, if he was being honest.

And the thought of you borrowing one of Yoongi’s didn’t even get a chance to settle in his mind before he forced it far, far away.

› › ›

The scene with Jungkook in Jia’s room replays over and over in your head, but there’s a new lightness to it now—a weight lifted, even though you know the lines between you have definitely blurred. There’s more to think about, maybe more to figure out, but as you glance up at Jungkook’s peaceful expression, you find that you don’t mind it right now.

Reaching the end of the path, Yoongi hops out of the car and pulls the seat forward to let you into the back. “Hi, sorry for the wait,” you apologize softly to the driver, offering a polite smile as Jungkook takes your purse. His hand settles warmly on your back, guiding you in as you climb into the backseat.

The driver just mutters something under his breath and waits as Jungkook slides in next to you. Yoongi settles back beside Jia, who’s typing something on her phone, closing the door as the driver pulls out onto the road.

In the quiet hum of the car, you lean back, stealing a quick glance at Jungkook. He catches it, his lips quirking up as he shifts just a little closer, one hand slipping over yours where it rests on your lap. You turn your hand over and intertwine it with his, using your free hand to play with his fingers, tracing over the lines of his pretty tattoos. You rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed.

You can’t wait to drink.

It’s about twenty-five minutes later when you arrive at Joonie’s nightclub.

Jia had managed to convince the Uber driver to let you guys drink a little with the promise of a 50% tip, and as soon as he agreed, she swiftly pulled the bottle of tequila up from beneath her seat. She took a sip and handed it to Yoongi, who did the same before passing it to the back. Jungkook let you take a mouthful before he did, and you each took one more, his shots a little bigger than yours.

As you step inside, the music is loud, vibrating the ground as colored lights flicker across the floor. You spot the rest of your friends by a table in the corner, already clinking shot glasses together and throwing them back. When they see the four of you, their faces light up, and soon they’re stumbling over for hugs and half-drunk hellos.

Jimin is the first to reach you, a bright grin spreading across his face as he wraps you in a tight hug, swaying you from side to side. “Hi, angel! Gah, y'always look so pretty without an apron on! Good to see you—ah, hey, Kook! Get over here, you big thing,” he beams, pulling away from you to bring Jungkook down into an equally enthusiastic hug.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Jungkook responds, returning the hug and then straightening to stand by your side again.

Jimin stands there, his eyes raking over both of you for a moment before he lets out a sigh and gives something similar to a nod of approval.

You shake your head, laughing as you adjust your purse. “How much have you had to drink already, Jiminie?”

“Not nearly enough,” he quips instantly, glancing back at the group where the others are ushering Jia and Yoongi over to their table. “And judging by the fact you’re not red as a tomato yet… neither have you. Come on,” he grins, grabbing both your arms and pulling you and Jungkook toward the rest of the group.

When you guys reach the circle, you exchange hugs and little hiii, I missed you's until you reach the last person at the table.

"Hey, Y/N," Taehyung greets, pulling you into a warm hug.

Blinking in surprise as you pull back, you smile. "Hey, Tae? I didn’t know you were coming tonight. How are you?”

Taehyung nods, his hand resting casually on his beer. “Yeah, been okay. You?”

“Good, thanks Tae,” you reply with a soft smile, stepping back beside Jungkook.

“Oh, hey, Jungkook-ah, how are you, man?” Taehyung continues, extending a hand.

Jungkook takes it, and they do a little bro shake before he settles next to you again. “Really good, man, thanks,” he nods, glancing over the table before turning to you. “I’m gonna go get our drinks. Did y'want a long Island?”

Your eyes light up, and you nod, starting to walk with him to the bar when Valerie calls out, “Y/N! Babe, come take a photo! The lighting is soo cute over here.”

You turn back around, “One sec, Val, I’m just going to grab—”

“It’s okay, bug. I won’t be long,” Jungkook says quietly, running his hand down your arm as you glance over at him.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, looking up at him.

He raises his brows with an amused look when you don't move for a while. “Go on,” he nudges his head toward your friends, watching as you nod again with a cute smile and head over to Jia, Valerie, and Jimin. His gaze lingers as Yoongi takes the phone from Jia, and you all get ready to pose for the photos.

Sliding in next to Jia feels like second nature as your arm wraps around her waist, but as realization dawns, you quickly move to pull back, unsure if that's okay anymore.

Jia just rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and placing it firmly back around her waist before leaning into you. The two of you settle in for the shot, and you smile, resting your head on her shoulder as the flash goes off, Yoongi snapping a bunch of photos of the four of you.

Once Jia finally deems the hundred pictures her boyfriend has taken as enough, your little group breaks away, with Jimin and Valerie immediately rushing over to review the results.

You start to follow them but pause when you catch sight of Taehyung at the end of the table, sitting alone and staring at his beer. You frown, looking around for Hoseok and Jin, but they seem to have wandered off, leaving him by himself.

You slide into the seat beside him. “Hey,” you greet, and Taehyung looks up, returning a small smile. "You okay?"

“Hey,” he chuckles lightly. “Yeah, why, do I look all depressed and lonely right now?”

With a grin, you pick up the tiny umbrella from an empty glass nearby, twirling it in your fingers. “No. Just a little alone,” you hum. “Where did Jin and Hobi go?”

“Out for a smoke,” Taehyung answers, his eyes lingering on you for a second before glancing back at his drink. Just as you’re about to ask if he wants another beer since his looks low, Jungkook arrives back at the table.

He sets your drink in front of you, still holding his own glass, and pulls up a chair beside you. “Thanks, Gukkie,” you smile, pulling the cup toward you to take a sip.

Jungkook gives you a little nod, resting a hand on your leg. His gaze shifts, noticing how Taehyung’s eyes follow the movement of your mouth as you wrap your lips around the straw. Jungkook’s tongue flicks over his lips before he takes a silent mouthful of his drink, watching as the two of you chat.

It's not long before Jimin brings over a large tray to the table, all your friends cheering in excitement as he sets it down with a grin.

"Shots!"

“Shit, bug, wait, watch your step, I just—”

Jungkook’s warning doesn’t reach your inebriated brain in time, and you stumble over the step he nearly tripped on himself, letting out a little curse. Before you can fall forward, his arms are already around you, pulling you back upright.

“Gukkie,” you whine, “why did you push me?” you grumble, your cheeks rosy from the endless shots Jimin kept feeding you and the lingering heat of the dance floor you two had been on all night.

Not that you’ll remember most of this tomorrow, considering you went over your limit about two Long Island iced teas ago, but tonight was one of the best nights you’ve had in a very long time.

Jia mostly clung to Valerie for the night, but that didn’t matter—you and Jungkook had more than enough fun on your own. Jimin even took Taehyung under his wing, and the four of you ended up spinning around on the dance floor after you convinced Jungkook to join in too. He’s so good at it, you’ve never understood why he doesn’t dance more often, but he indulged you tonight. And it was so fucking amazing.

“I didn’t push you, bug,” he grumbles back, holding you steady as he blinks, trying to get his own hazy vision under control.

If you went past your limit, Jungkook went double down. He can handle his alcohol—much better than you, at least—but you guys were having so much fun, and he loves drinking with you, so he went all out. When you took a shot, he took two. When you stood in front of him, lifting a cup to his lips with a sweet, urging little smile, who the fuck was he to say no?

“Gukkie, where’s your car?” you ask, squinting up the street, arm looping through his as you both stagger down the sidewalk. The chilly night air nips at your bare legs, but the warmth of the alcohol keeps it at bay as you rest your head lazily on his bicep.

“Uhh,” Jungkook mutters, scanning the line of parked cars as he tries to spot his Jeep. “I dunno, baby. Let’s just walk home.”

You nod in agreement, too tipsy to consider that the walk back to either of your apartments would take at least an hour—probably more, but you don’t care. Right now, it feels like you could walk for miles, just like this.

“Okay, but—” you trail off, eyes drifting as he stops running his hand over the one of yours clinging to his bicep. He turns to you with a little frown. “But what? D'you want to take your heels off?”

You blink up at him, the blur of alcohol softening everything but his face, his features as clear and pretty as ever. “You called me baby,” you say, a wide, drunk grin lighting up your face as you gaze up at him, utterly enchanted.

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. He glances forward to ensure you both don’t veer into anything, then looks back down at you. “What, bug?”

“You called me baby,” you repeat, leaning your head against his arm with a happy squeeze. “Gosh, Gukkie, I hope I remember this when I wake up.”

Jungkook blinks a little at that, turning his head to face the path in front of him as you both keep walking. Did he call you baby? It must’ve just slipped out. He’s never called anyone that—not even while drunk, as far as he knows. The thought lingers for a moment, but when Jungkook feels you shiver slightly and yawn against his arm, that’s all it takes for him to have his first sober thought since his umpteenth vodka shot.

“Bug,” he says, pulling you to a gentle stop, his gaze drifting over your goosebump-covered legs and sleepy eyes. You blink up at him, a soft, confused smile lifting your lips as you glance around, wondering why you’ve stopped. “I need to get us an Uber,” Jungkook murmurs, rubbing his hands over your cold arms to warm you. “Come sit with me. Gonna order it.”

He looks around for a seat, but there isn’t one in sight, so he guides you to the curb and sits down, holding his arms open as you step in front of him and plop between his legs. Making sure you're settled, he pulls out his phone, blinking hard to try and get the numbers on the screen to stay still enough to punch in his passcode.

You lean back into his hold, his free arm wrapping around your stomach as your eyes flutter shut, your fingers tracing softly over the inked patterns on his arm. “So warm,” you mumble, lost in the feel of his skin against yours.

Jungkook tilts his head a little as you lean further into him, the tip of your nose brushing against his neck. He swallows, his pulse quickening as he tries to focus on ordering the Uber to your place.

“How are you so warm everywhere?” you sigh dreamily, letting your nose drift up the length of his neck, fingers still tracing along his arm. Jungkook’s breath catches, but he manages to confirm the ride and lock his phone, his other arm wrapping around you, quietly pulling you snug against his chest.

"Can I kiss your neck, Gukkie?"

Jungkook’s eyes shut at your words, every fiber in him reacting to you as he swallows hard. “Just a little, bug. Our uber isn’t far.”

The slight tilt of his head is all the encouragement you need, and you press a gentle, lingering kiss to his nape, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again. Drawn in by the pretty sight, your mouth latches onto his neck, tasting the warmth of his skin.

“Bug,” he croaks, his voice shaky as your lips press more purposefully, your soft touch just a bit more intentional. “Bug, c’mon, baby, not too much. You’re drunk, I—” His breathing deepens as your tongue traces a warm, wet line over his skin, his hands tightening on your sides as he exhales shakily.

Your lips find a soft spot at the base of his neck, and he lets out another unsteady breath, his body responding without his consent. Humming happily, you let yourself sink into the feeling a little longer before pulling back and admiring your handiwork. It’s not enough to leave a mark, just a faint warmth that’ll fade, but it’s still so pretty. You press one last gentle kiss to the spot before turning back around, leaning contentedly back against his chest.

“Thanks, Gukkie. I like the way your skin tastes,” you smile with your eyes closed, settling your hands over his arms around you, the honesty in your words amplified by the haze of the alcohol.

“God, bug,” Jungkook mumbles once he catches his breath, his fingers running lightly up and down your waist as he adjusts the hem of your top, covering you when it rides up a little. “So cute.”

He watches as a soft, pretty smile curves your lips, eyes still closed as you practically purr into him at his comment.

So. Fucking. Cute.

Jungkook rests his head in the crook of your neck, which is bared just for him. Your head lolls back as you sleepily begin to curl into his embrace. “So pretty,” he breathes into your skin, pressing a light little kiss as he inhales as much of your scent as possible.

He’s kissed you plenty of times—on your forehead, your cheeks, even twice on your fucking lips earlier tonight. But he’s never kissed your neck before.

And it’s addicting.

The aroma of your vanilla-creme body wash mixed with the Miss Dior perfume he buys you for your birthdays—fuck. He could lick it off every inch of your body if you’d let him.

But not tonight.

He knows you get extra touchy with him when you’re drunk, and, yeah, he does with you too. That’s just how you two have always been. But it’s usually just longer cuddles, sitting closer than normal, not leaving each other's side for more than a few minutes.

You’ve never done that to him before.

Maybe it’s because, however intoxicated you may be, your brain recognizes the shift between the two of you from earlier at Yoongi and Jia’s.

God, he fucking hopes so.

Jungkook prays that you’ll remember kissing him tomorrow, even if you’re dazed from the alcohol. Because he is too. But, somehow, he'll make sure he remembers every single second.

i hit the fucking block limit >:( sooo nasty of tumblr 😔 the rest of the fic is available in this reblog 🩷

[caramelcleopatraa]

COGNAC QUEEN

word count: 1.9k

x: @heauxvibez asked someone to write something based off of Cognac Queen by Megan Thee Stallion (amazing song rec, I recommend you go stream the song) not proofread

content: 18+ mdni, Roman x Semeni (OC), dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), cuddle fuck, a lil bitta fluff at the end

I'm lookin' paid and pretty (yeah)

Hair hanging down to my back, huh

I put it on him last night (woo!)

He calling me back to back, hey (hey)

Semeni sat with her legs crossed in the spacious, dazzling condominium. The big window panels showcasing the beautiful city lights. While these two were in their own little world. Far from the public eye. 

Her neon hot pink dress adorned with long ruffles perfectly outlined her figure. His eyes stayed on her plump lips as she sipped the amber drink from her glass. Relishing in the savory taste and enjoying the atmosphere he set.

Drop me a pin where you at (at)

I'm gonna come 'round like a 'Lac (like a 'Lac)

I get in my 'Gac on that 'Gac ('Gac on that 'Gac)

He call me Megan the Mack (Megan the Mack)

“You okay? You’re a little quiet.” Roman sits next to her, filling the empty space like a puzzle piece and putting the bottle on the gray coffee table. “I’m fine, I'm just watching you.” Semeni was never shy when it came to how she felt about him. They weren't in a serious relationship, but they spent their free time with each other. They never assigned a label to their relationship. They were just friends, who took each other out to expensive restaurants, spoiled each other, and fuck occasionally. Nothing special. 

He raises his eyebrow in amusement and motions to himself in an up and down motion. “You been looking at all of this, huh?” She takes one final sip from her glass, emptying it and placing it on the small coffee table. Roman observes her movements slyly, watching her beautiful eyes blink as she sits the glass on the table, watching her body rise as she takes a deep breath. She was mesmerizing.

“Yeah I have, and I want all of it,” Semeni says, placing her hands on his chest, feeling him up through his black polo shirt. He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut from the feeling of her hands on his body. “I love feeling your hands on my chest,” he says softly. “I know you do, but I know you want my hands somewhere else.” 

He looks at her brown, gentle eyes and says, “So put ‘em there.”

—-------------------------

“Damn baby, that feels so good.” His black dress trousers were rolled down to his thighs, leaning back on the expansive gray couch with his arms laying on either side of him. Meanwhile, Semeni is kneeling in front of him, between his thick legs, stroking his dick at a medium pace. 

“You feel good baby?” His small whimpers and heavy breaths contrasted his tough exterior.

“F-fuckk baby, stay right there on the tip.”

A thick wad of spit drips from her lips, landing on his sensitive mushroom tip. Her hands cup the tip, fastly bobbing her hand on his tip. God did he go wild. His head tilted back, letting the pleasure take over him.

“Y’wanna cum?” He pants and nods furiously, clutching onto the big couch cushions to stop himself from bucking his hips into her hand. “You know I wanna fuckin’ cum.” His head stays tilted back. He knew not to look in her eyes. If he did, then it was over for him. “Look at me, Roman,” she says, using her unoccupied hand to rub up and down his thigh. He laughs to himself at her request, knowing that she is trying to set him up. “I know what you’re trying to do, sweetheart.” She pouts to herself, surprised that he didn’t fall for her usual tactics. ‘Okay, let’s try again’ 

“Please look at me, daddy. I wanna see your eyes when you cum.” He lets out a deep throaty moan, still clutching onto the couch cushions. Her voice, her words, her hands, how good she was making him feel. Doing all of the right things to make him crazy. Which is why he can never get enough of her. And probably why he was looking into her captivating eyes now. Frozen and still, but somehow on fire. “There we go daddy, look me in my eyes when you cum,” She purrs, shifting from side to side, ignoring the overflowing pool of wetness forming in her shorts. 

She stuck out her tongue and held him at the base, tapping him against her tongue, but going back to his tip once again. There were no more passive grunts and groans, only melodic moans that filled their ears. Her eyes locked on his, as she put her hands behind her back, using her tongue to lick the underside of his dick before taking him in his mouth. “Oh shit~ I'm coming. Ohh fuckk-” His fingers weaved through Semeni’s brown hair, jerking his hips into her mouth. She moaned around his cock every time he met the back of her throat, swallowing every drop he gave her without complaint. “Damn, girl,” he pants out, taking his hand out of her hair. She tightens her lips around him, sucking him up one more time before she’s done. She wears a lopsided smirk on her face, watching him catch his breath. Pride surged through her. “My mouth felt that good, huh?” Roman lays down against the couch, shifting and positioning himself so that he is comfortable. “Need to take a nap big bo- “Get your ass up here and sit on my face.”

He know I only wanna

Come over put it on him

I got that woah-na-na-na

He drink that shit like water

She anchored herself by tightly grasping the dark gray couch. Singing out delicious moans. Letting him hungrily lick her up into oblivion. Staring into empty space as her eyes crossed numerous times, but focussing hard enough to see his wavy black hair spread out beneath her. Feeling his hands dig into her thighs, working his mouth in ways that make her cry out in pleasure. 

Now it was her time to become undone.

“Oooh- shit~ i’m close,” She pants, prompting to lick long bold stripes along her pussy, and sucking on her clit for a quick second. And he repeats. Creating a ferocious, unescapable cycle.

Her keens of pleasure and needy whining didn’t fall on deaf ears, only encouraging him to keep going. Humming into her pussy like he took the first bite of a delicious meal. She could feel her legs shaking against his face, despite the burly hands and arms wrapped around her legs to keep her in place. “Fuck- i’m finna cum on your face, daddy,” she says slurred, with flushed cheeks and half open eyes. Just as she finished her sentence, like clockwork, she came all over his face. Softly bucking her hips against his tongue, riding out the enormous wave with his tongue as her surfboard. Now she herself was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, breathing heavy on top of him. But she couldn’t get up, his arms were still wrapped around her thighs. “At least let me clean you up before fucking you into the mattress.”

Fall in love would be dangerous (yeah)

Fuck you like I've been dranking (uh)

Cognac on my blankets (yeah)

Real bitches don't fake it, ay, ay

They had ventured into almost every room in the condo. The living room, the game room, the balcony, and now the bedroom. Finding new positions in each room. Thank god there weren't many people that lived in the same building, he hated hearing her restrained and muffled moans under his hand. They laid in the bed, cuddling in the sheets, but nowhere near done. 

Her leg rested atom his hips, her arms wrapped around his neck, while he hid in the crook of hers. Placing those delicate kisses along her neck while pounding into her. She could barely see the other buildings out of the large windows on the balcony doors due to her blurry vision. But those distant buildings were her last thought. Her mind was clouded with the person who was holding her tight between the silk sheets.

Not a word had been said since they laid down in the bed, which was unusual for the two. But considering how needy they were, words didn't need to be said. They had been around each other long enough, tangled in one another long enough to know how each other feels. His low eyes as he tilted his head back and his faster paced thrusts. and her mouth agape, eyes rolled to the back of her head. Feeling the overwhelming waves of pleasure together as they nestled closer. Their chests rising and falling against each other, their heart beats loud as bass drums at highschool pep rallies. Yeah, nothing special.

You look good, you look good to me

Give me hug, it feel good to me

Hold me up, you too good to me

Cut 'em off, I know you would for me

Semeni opened one of the gray drawers, pulling out overnight clothes she had left the last time she stayed over. You know.. Just in case for situations like this. The bathroom had been hot and humid due to a long shower they took. But of course it wasn't just a shower, because he could never keep his hands to himself.

“You damn well live here by now,” He said, shirtless with loose gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips and leaning on the door frame. “You say that like you’re so bothered with that.” She approaches him, her neck cranked to look up at him. “Nah, not bothered. I'm just surprised that you took over one of my drawers.”

“Is that a problem, Roman?” She knew that they were both playing, but there was a tinge of seriousness in her tone. “No, you know you’re welcome to treat this place as your own.” She turns her back to him and smiles, looking back at the drawer filled with her clothes. 

“You tell that to all of your other hoes?”

“You think I would have other women over here when you have a whole drawer to yourself?” She shrugs her shoulders and sits on the bed, pulling the comforter over her smooth legs. “Maybe I should be askin’ you that question.” She scoffs. “​​There’s no man you gotta worry about, cause I'm focused on the man in front of me.” She said the last part to herself. Not realizing that she may have said that a little louder than she intended to. Roman was intrigued to say the least. She was always upfront with whatever she wanted to say. So it was so interesting to see her flustered, mumbling secret words to herself about him. Her attention turned to him when he turned the light off in the bathroom, making his way to her. He laid on the bed next to her,letting the new cold silk sheets graze his skin. His hand reached out to grab her chin, stroking her face softly with his thumb. “And I'm worried about the goddess in front of me. You ain’t got nothing to worry about, mama. And if you ever doubt that, I'll prove to you that you’re the only one I'm focused on.”

Okay…. Maybe this is something special.

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

[metalbuckaroo]

KINKTOBER DAY 1: MUTUAL MASTURBATION

🕷 Summary// Bucky doesn’t miss sex, not when he had the chance to spend these mornings with you

🕸 Warnings// mutual masturbation, lil bitta fluff, a smidgen of angst, feels, cursing, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics, use of nickname- baby, darling

🕷 AU// SugarDaddy!Bucky x F!Reader

🕸 Note// Kinktober has begun and I’m beyond excited, idk how I feel ab the layout for the summary and warnings, though- may change it. A reminder than any gifs or pictures I use in the moodboards aren’t mine and full credit goes to the actual creators

🕷 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 🕷

‼️ 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI ‼️

Saturday mornings were always your favorite time of the week.

Waking up maybe a little too late in the afternoon in Bucky’s bed, usually greeted by a warm smile and cup of coffee the moment you sat up.

Only this time you woke up first.

Bucky still sound asleep behind you, early afternoon sun streaming through the blinds as you turned to face him. Sharp features relaxed and breathing shallow.

He stirred when you brushed your fingertips to his cheek, a content sigh passing his parted lips.

“Morning,” he hummed, gruff morning voice filling your ears like music.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you poked a finger into his stomach. “‘M bored.”

“How long have you been awake?” Bucky asked, eyes still closed as he reached an arm out towards to.

“Only around five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” He chuckled, pulling you into his chest. “Can’t be that bored.”

“Well, not just bored.” You hinted, tilting your head back to look at him as he peaked an eye open at you. A wide grin spreading across his face and suddenly fully awake as he urged you onto your back, his broad frame settling between your thighs.

“Now?” He beamed, metallic left arm whirring in your ear as he propped himself up on it.

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head. “Not yet.” You smiled, lacing your fingers in the back of his hair to pull his lips to yours.

“That’s fine, baby.” He murmured against your lips, warm hand splayed on your hip.

Bucky didn’t miss having sex- how could he when he had the chance to spend these mornings with you?

Your fingertips featherlight as they trailed down towards the waistband of his briefs, lips engulfing each other and breaths being shared.

He just missed the connection, being completely open and bare to another person. Trusting someone with yourself and insecurities.

But, in these moments, it felt worth it.

Dipping his hand in the front of his briefs to palm his already hard cock as your fingers slipped into your underwear. Circling your clit as you both lost yourselves in the slow kiss, tongues pressing together and teeth nipping lips. Bucky grazing his lips along your jaw and down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking the skin until a mark formed.

Though, he could see a difference in your heavenly sounds. How much needier they were this time as a breathy whine of his name drew his attention back to your face.

“‘M right here, darling.” He cooed, nipping your lips with his. Pulling the front of his briefs down to free his erection.

The seductive tone of his voice made your heart pound just a little faster and a whimper fall from your lips, your hand not doing the same for you as it had before. Every angle, speed and amount of pressure you applied just not doing it.

“Do we need to stop?” Bucky asked, slowly fisting over himself in case you were needing to stop.

“Everything’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head, being met by lustful blues when you peaked your eyes open. The careful graze of his warm fingers along the inside of your thigh making you clench around nothing, wishing you could just open your mouth a beg for him to help you. Instead, biting your tongue in fear of crossing the paper thin line.

Your back arched when his bulbous head barely knocked into your clit, a blush creeping up his neck. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Bucky scrambled out before your lips were on his again.

Hungrier than the last kiss, but just as breathtaking as your hand found it’s way down his perfectly sculpted abdomen. Stopping where the neatly trimmed hair started at his base. “Just tell me and I’ll help.”

“Please,”

To you it sounded pitiful. But, to Bucky, it was enough to have his hips rocking forward into your hand the moment your fingers wrapped around his shaft. His own going into your underwear, groaning at the arousal that coated your folds.

“S’fucking wet,” He huffed, easing his middle finger into your clenching walls. “And tight, shit.”

“James,” you moaned, grinding against his palm. Focusing the pump of your hand on the thick head of his cock. Pre-cum helping you glide along the silky skin.

Adding a second finger and curling the two digits against the rough patch just inside your cunt, your head tipped back in a choked out moan. His fingers stretching you more than your own and finding just the right spot instantly.

“I know, darling. I’ve got you.” He purred, choking on a moan when you flicked your wrist. The swirling sensation at his base cresting higher when your free hand slipped down to massage his heavy sac. Gently rolling it in your palm as your skin grew hotter with each passing second.

The softer feel of your hand drove his mind into a fog, gently twisting and tugging as his face buried in the crook of your neck. Trying to focus on bringing you to your high first, stroking your velvety walls until your thighs started quivering. The pitch of your moans and whines going higher until his name was a jumbled chant on the tip of your tongue.

Every nerve frayed as you released around his long, nimble fingers. Stroking him with the same purpose, lost in the pleasure of your high as he rocked his hips in the same rhythm as your hand.

“Ah,” Bucky hissed, hot puffs of breath fanning your collarbone when the roll of his hips went frantic. Fucking into your hand as he worked you through your own aftershocks. “Gonna come-“

You didn’t even register the first warm spurt through your foggy state. His spend coating your stomach and hand as you stroked him through it, peppering kisses along his shoulder as a shudder rolled down his spine.

The warmth that engulfed him was enough to melt away the fact that you were there with him under a contract, that you weren’t truly his.

————

Taglist: @auriel187 @marvel-3407 @winters1917 @k-jones16-blog @wickedravyn @ah-blossom @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @buckybraneslover111 @bonkybarnes106 @wakandabiitch2 @vllowe @kmuir1 @alyhull @stardust-galaxies @michellefoster12 @xleggo-my-elevenx @fionanovasleftnut

[unhinged-summer-fun]

CONGRATS ON 300 BABY!! 💕💕

You deserve em all and all of those still to come!! I'm gonna snag one of those drabble slots with this:

What can you tell me about TBAD Dave and Carol and their first date?

^me listening with rapt attention

AHHHHHHHHH thank you so much Birdie!!!! <3 You know the way to my heart is through the Yorks. This was so cute and sweet! I hope you enjoy this lil bitta fluff! This takes place pre-story in the universe of To Build a Dynasty! (700 words)

Prompt 3/30 finished! Keep sending me prompts! (20+ spots open)

April, 1989.

Caroline Collins had a date tonight. David Dessner-York from across the street had come up to her in homeroom two days ago, hands in fists at his sides, and said, “Carol, I have tickets to Indiana Jones this Friday, would you like to go with me?” as if she was able to actually speak to him without stumbling over her words. He’d been so earnest, big brown eyes standing out like stars in the night sky, that she could only nod. When it happened, David had relaxed so wholly, she realized he must have been tensing every muscle in his body. It was like when he relaxed, she tensed up instead, and that had been two days ago.

And now she had a date.

Her eight siblings were luckily more worried about themselves, and her parents hadn’t worried about her since she was 10. At 16, she’d gotten herself a job, her driver’s license, and started saving for college, because there was no tuition money in a family of 11.

“CC, where are you going tonight?” her sister Elizabeth asked, leaning on the door to their shared room. “You never get this dressed up.”

Caroline didn’t turn around. Recently, she’d been toying with the idea of rejecting that nickname, given to her from a young age, when her parents couldn’t be bothered to call her by her name. David had called her Carol, and she felt like a woman around him. He made fireworks pop behind her eyes and doves take flight in her chest. “A date.”

“Ooooooh,” Elizabeth invited herself into Caroline’s space, peering at her like she was a science experiment. “You need me to cover for you in case you’re out all night?” she leered.

Caroline leveled her with an unimpressed look. “Buzz off. We’re just going to the movies.”

“You know what going to the movies means, right? Did mom and dad ever give you that talk?”

Caroline’s parents hadn’t talked to her, let alone looked at her, in several days. There were always more interesting things happening with her other siblings.

“I know what sex is, Elizabeth.”

“Sure, CC, sure.”

David picked her up right at 6 like they’d planned. She was jittery, and hardly remembered anything they talked about on the drive to the theater, but she remembered for years how safely he drove, and how safe he made her feel when they were alone. She hardly remembered the movie itself, but she remembered the way his pinky traced the edge of hers, tentative and heartstoppingly sweet. She’d interlaced their fingers, neither caring about the clammy teenager hands or the popcorn butter and salt between them. They were holding hands. The pair grinned at the screen as Indy fell off a cliff in a tank.

After the movie, they walked to the diner across the street to talk. This was the part of the date Caroline had looked forward to, getting to know him without the lens of school to color it all. “You called me Carol,” she said offhand.

“I’m sorry, did you prefer—”

“If you call me CC I’m walking home.”

David didn’t blush at her threat, but he did blush at her tone. He liked her a lot. He liked how she spoke in class, how smart she was, and how much she cared about her friends. He liked how she tutored the younger grades, and the care she took explaining difficult concepts. It had made his heart pound in his chest like he’d been running for miles. She’d never been outright demanding of anyone that he’d seen before. To hear her assert herself thrilled him.

“Very well. It’s nice to meet you, Carol Collins.”

“And it’s nice to meet you…?”

Carol got the feeling she had found a kindred spirit in David. They had been trapped by their respective families, either by being ignored or being relied on too much, and they almost never got the chance to choose for themselves. David caught on.

“David D-... Dave York.”

Carol lit up. “Dave York, I like you a lot. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”

“Carol Collins, the pleasure’s all mine. For the record… I like you too.”

[ao3feed-castiel]

Your saving grace

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2FlDgEK

by innocent_writer_14

I recently started reading come Gabe × reader fics and i just got inspired, so here is a story written on little to no sleep.

Words: 727, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Gabriel (Supernatural), Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)

Relationships: Gabriel (Supernatural) & You

Additional Tags: Fluff, New to loving Gabe, A lil bitta smut

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2FlDgEK

[girlygguk]

HABITS (STAY HIGH) | JJK

You 9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no

pairing student plug!jk x rich girl!reader

genre fwb2l, established situationship, college au

rating 18+ minors dni; angst, fluff, suggestive

word count 5.3k

content jk 20 | yn 20, grumpy jk, spirited/lowk bratty oc, he’s a drug dealer, she’s his fave customer and fave girl, going against my entire brand & oc is the pining one this time 😳, but like she's aware & she don't care!!, wait jk also pines but just not as openly, ok wait no he's a simp too, lil bitta jealousy, a heated argument, lots of cursing, kinda toxic relo depending on how u view it?, they fight bc they care, this jk is actually so cheeky, but he thinks he doesn't deserve her, she wants to smack his head bc of that, no serious smut; just some kissing n touching n oc gets her tiddies out, cliffhanger ending

before you read this definitely needs a part two (which will happen and will absolutely be of better quality) but it won’t be for a while, so keep that in mind pls <3 if u just want a cute lil read with an angsty fwb fight & some make-up cuddles, then this is for you 🫰

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now playing: tove lo—habits (stay high)

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Who is ittttt?”

“Open the fucking door, Y/N, it’s cold,” Jungkook grumbles quietly, his voice carrying a hint of irritation though you can tell he's trying not to disturb your poshy neighbors.

You suppress a chuckle, peering through the peephole. There he is, shivering in the hallway of your apartment complex.

He’s bundled up in a big black hoodie, his sweats hanging low on his hips, and you can just make out the faint outline of his ever-growing hair beneath the hood. You almost frown, missing the adorable little ponytail you know he’s pulled it into. The image of it is vivid in your mind, and your fingers twitch with the urge to run through the strands.

Flicking the latch, you twist the handle and pull open the door, a smile spreading across your face as you take in his flushed cheeks and the red tip of his nose, both tinged from the cold. He looks so adorably disgruntled, his inked arms crossed over his chest, dry lips forming a pout that only makes him look squishier.

Despite the hardened exterior of Jeon Jungkook, there’s something so irresistibly soft about him that never fails to make you melt—a sentiment you tell him often, no matter how many times he scowls when you call him a cute baby bunny.

The moment he steps inside, he exhales a deep breath of relief, letting the warm air of your apartment wrap around his cold frame. The reason he likes coming to your place instead of you going to his? Your fantastic fucking heating.

Other perks are definitely in the mix, like how your apartment doesn’t have suspicious-colored mold in every other corner of the ceiling—and the fact that it smells like you.

But Jungkook likes to say it’s mainly for the heating.

You lock the door behind him, noticing a paper bag in his hand that you hadn’t seen through the peephole.

“What’s that?” you tease, leaning against the door while he kicks off his shoes.

Jungkook shoots you an unimpressed look, his face the perfect 🙄 emoji he’d texted you earlier. Without a word, he moves closer and offers you the bag.

The sight of the Lotteria logo triggers a happy grumble in your stomach, and a wide grin spreads across your face. “Oh? I don’t remember ordering fo—”

Before you can finish, he snatches the bag back with a huff, heading straight for the couch. You let out a small gasp of surprise that quickly turns into laughter as you chase after him.

“Kook…” you coo through giggles, following the pouty boy. “Baby, I’m kidding! I’m sorry… gimmie, please?” you plead, softening your voice as you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face into the warmth of his hoodie.

Even though the last part of your sentence is muffled by his hoodie, you know he heard you by the way his shoulders relax and he stops moving. “You’re so annoying. Take the fucking burger,” he mumbles, the corner of his mouth twitching as he lifts his arms just enough for you to slip under and around to face him.

“So hot when you boss me around,” you sigh dreamily, blinking up at him.

You hear the warning tsk from his mouth and happily ignore it, taking the bag from him and setting it carefully on your coffee table. When you turn back, his eyes are already on you.

“Thank you, Kook. You didn’t have to do that.”

Just as you start to reach out to hug him again, you pause, realizing there’s something far more pressing to attend to. Reaching up, you gently pull back his hoodie, finally getting a full view of his pretty face.

A satisfied hum slips from you as you take in his hair, tied back in the little ponytail you’d imagined. Your hands move on their own, gently tucking a few stray strands behind his ears, enjoying the softness beneath your fingers.

For a second, Jungkook’s eyes close at your touch, only to snap open again, as if he knows you’re about to say something sassy. Before you can, he leans down and scoops you up, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs.

In just a couple steps, he’s settled on your couch with you straddling his lap, clinging to him like a koala. His fingers trace soft circles along your thighs, making you sink deeper into his hold. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers slipping into his hair, giving him gentle little scratches that make him melt.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” you mumble, enjoying the quiet grunt he lets out in response. “Course you know that,” you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you press a light kiss to his neck.

“Your jays are in my pocket,” he manages, his voice a little strained.

“So?” you hum, trailing your lips lower to press another kiss along his nape.

Each soft kiss leads you closer to the thick base of his throat, where you can feel his pulse beneath your lips. His grip on your thighs tightens, pulling a satisfied little sound from you, maybe intentional, maybe not.

Just as Jungkook feels himself teetering on the edge of losing all restraint, ready to flip you over and pin you beneath him on the couch, you pull away with a smile.

His gaze is heavy-lidded as he watches you twist around, but never leaving his lap. Instead, you reach back for the coffee table, your fingers grasping for something just out of sight. When you finally retrieve what you need and turn back to face him, his reaction is immediate—he rolls his eyes.

“Put that shit away—”

“Don’t, Jungkook,” you warn, smacking his hand away as he tries to grab your purse from you.

“I’m not taking your money. I don’t know why you even bother.” His tone carries a hint of irritation, almost as if he’s offended by the very notion. While your entire body softens at his refusal, a small flicker of annoyance sparks within you.

“And why is that?” you challenge, your fingers deftly unzipping your wallet, even as you avoid meeting his gaze, already knowing where the conversation is heading.

Jungkook tries to catch your eye, his stare burning into the side of your face, but you refuse to look at him, focusing instead on the bills you’re pulling from your wallet. “You know why, baby. Stop that,” he says, voice firm yet gentle.

Your fingers freeze around the notes, and you finally lift your gaze to meet his. “So you’d rather I just pay you in sex?” you say, forcing a laugh. “Do you know how gross that makes me feel?”

“What?” Jungkook leans back slightly, his expression shifting from surprise to something almost…disgusted. You have to resist the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth the sour look from his pretty face with your fingers. “What the fuck? I would never expect you to—Y/N—what the fuck?”

“You never let me pay. You make everyone else pay, but not me.” Your voice is quiet, dripping with vulnerability that makes Jungkook release a heavy sigh.

“Because it’s you, baby. I would never—”

“What do you mean by that?” you cut him off abruptly, your tone sharper than intended, causing him to reel back in confusion. “‘It’s me.’ What do you mean by that? You don’t want me, but you treat me differently than everyone else.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes the side of his cheek in frustration, the action only serving to stoke the fire in your chest. His silence is telling, yet infuriating, and it eggs you on to continue. “You come over whenever I ask you to. You—you bring me food without even knowing if I want anyth—”

He frowns. “You always want Lotteria—”

“You get jealous when I hang out with other guys.”

That shuts him up.

His lips twist to the side as his gaze rakes over your face, like he’s searching for something, but still, he offers no response. The silence between you stretches thin, and you give him a pointed look, waiting for an explanation that never comes.

You sigh, resigned. “I know we’re fuck-buddies, Jungkook. I initiated this… I know.”

Slowly, your hand moves to the back of his head, fingers brushing the hair tie that keeps his bun in place. With a gentle tug, it comes undone, and you thread your fingers through the soft, loose strands. “But you have to start treating me like one, because when you do shit like this, it makes me want to lock you in my apartment and never let another girl even look at you.”

For a moment, his eyes flutter closed, and if you didn’t know him better, you might mistake the soft sound that escapes his lips for a whine. It’s low, almost involuntary, like he’s holding something back. But before he can say anything that might break your heart, you lean down, pressing your mouth to his. The cool metal of his lip ring sends a jolt through you, and your fingers instinctively tighten in his hair.

Jungkook melts into you, his hands, which have been resting on your goosebump-covered thighs throughout your entire rant, slide up, settling on the middle of your back. He pulls you closer, his grip firm, almost possessive.

He breaks away just enough to mutter against your lips, “You think I don’t want you?” The question barely lingers in the air before his tongue is in your mouth again, leaving you no room for a response. You hum, tasting the faint sweetness of banana shake—he always gets it when you both order Lotteria—and try to lick more of it from him as he pulls back.

“Think I like hearing about other guys getting to touch you?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “And not being able to do a single fucking thing about it?”

“I—mmfh—” Your objection dies against his tongue as he dives back in, his lips capturing yours with a needy determination. He finally pulls back, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth before letting it go with a wet pop, dark eyes watching as your lip snaps back into a pretty pout.

“I think about you every second of the fucking day, Y/N. Don’t say I don’t want you.”

It takes you a few moments to gather yourself, and when you do, a look of pure disbelief contorts your face.

“What?” The word comes out loud and more than a little whiny, but you don’t care. “You pretty much spit in my face—and not in the good way—every time I bring up exclusivity, but then you go and say shit like that? Jungkook, I’m going to fucking kill you—”

“Stop, baby,” he murmurs, but the battle to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips is already lost. Your whining is his absolute weakness, and as much as he tries to keep it in check, he can feel his sweatpants tightening the more you do it.

“No.” You huff instantly, pulling your hands from his hair and crossing your arms over your chest in pure, stubborn frustration.

The sight of you, all worked up and adorably fuming, drives him fucking wild. God, you’re so cute.

“Tell me why I can’t have you.”

“You can have me,” he replies without a second of hesitation, and his smile widens as you let out a frustrated groan.

“Jungkook.”

He chuckles softly, leaning forward to nuzzle into your neck. You sigh, knowing you should push him away from you, maybe even off the couch and onto the floor. But you don’t.

“Just look around, baby,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, his voice low and soft, his warm breath brushing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. Without thinking, your hand lifts to run through his hair.

You’re confused. “What?”

“You have a vase on your kitchen counter that’s worth more than the average kid at our uni’s entire tuition,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone as his words linger in the air.

He pulls back just enough to catch the look of confusion in your eyes, pressing a light kiss to the crease in your brow. "The shorts you’re wearing right now—probably the same price as that big, fancy TV you never use, hm?

Your eyes dart to the flatscreen he’s referring to, while he dips back down to trace soft lines along your neck with his nose. You give an offended little grunt.

“Well, they were more, actually, but what does that have to—”

“I live in a shitty little two-bedroom unit with two other guys, and I sell drugs to pay for my tuition, baby.”

“So fucking what—”

“You live in a twenty-floor luxury apartment complex, with two security gates to pass through before you even reach the lobby.”

You glare at the amused look on his face, and while you’d usually give anything to see him looking so cute, right now you want to wipe that smirk off with your couch cushion.

“So, what—you don’t want to be with me because I have a fucking trust fund?” you snap, trying to shove his hands off your hips, but he keeps them firmly in place. “No, that’s just fucking low, Jungkook. What, you’re rich-shaming me? That’s not even a fucking thing! God, you’re such a piece of—”

“The guy you fucked around with when you were stoned. Kim Taehyung, right?”

The words you were about to spit at him catch in your throat as his question hits you. Anger flares up fast and sharp, too intense for you to even care how he found out. “Why the fuck does that matter—”

“When I think about you having a boyfriend, baby, that’s who I see. Someone like Kim Taehyung. Good family, financially set for life, someone who can actually take care of you—”

“Jeon Jungkook, stop talking.” Your voice cuts through his words, sharp and cold, stripped of any teasing. The uncharacteristic seriousness makes him fall silent, his mouth snapping shut.

“If you don’t want a relationship, or commitment, or whatever the fuck it is that’s got you scared, just say that. But don’t you dare pretend this is about wanting what’s fucking ‘best for me.’”

He knows he shouldn’t respond, but something in your words hits deeper than he wants to admit. “I do want what’s fucking best for you—”

“And who decides that? You? Are you my fucking dad?” You scoff, ignoring the way his jaw clenches in frustration as you start to climb off his lap.

“Baby, stop—”

“And stop calling me fucking baby!” you snap, the words flying out before you can pull them back. The instant regret tugs at you, but you swallow it, refusing to apologize.

It’s not Jungkook’s fault that he doesn’t want you. You know that.

Luckily, any embarrassment over his rejection is nonexistent by now. Your friends-with-benefits arrangement started back in freshman year, and now, in your senior year, you’ve both had more than your fair share of awkward and downright mortifying sexual moments together. The idea of feeling humiliated in front of him is almost funny.

You hadn’t meant to get so worked up, but seeing him looking all pouty and comfy on your couch, bringing you your favorite fucking burger from your favorite fucking fast food place… it made you want to do unspeakable things right there on said couch. But then there he was, insisting he’s nothing but fucking wrong for you. Yeah, maybe you lost it a little.

Especially because you know that if he’d just get it, you wouldn’t even think twice about another spoiled pretty boy like Kim Taehyung ever again. You literally only fooled around with him because of—god, it doesn't matter. Jungkook might think he’s “not the best thing for you,” but you don’t give a flying fuck. He’s all you want.

Clearing your throat as you try to calm down, you stand on shaky legs and start to head toward your bedroom. You hear Jungkook softly call your name, concern thick in his voice, but you ignore him. At the doorway, something makes you pause, pulling you back.

Jungkook watches closely, his gaze softening as you turn and walk back toward him. He thinks maybe you’re going to climb back into his lap, let him kiss away your frown, but what you actually do makes him bite back a laugh. You reach down, snatch the bag with your cheeseburger in it, and stomp back to your bedroom without a word.

Jungkook’s quick to his feet, catching up before you can slam the door in his face. His hand lands on the wood, holding it open.

Your eyes narrow into slits. “Move your hand, or I’ll slam it on your fingers.”

“You’re just going to leave me out here? All by myself?” he asks, mustering his best pout—the one that usually melts you—but right now, it only makes you want to smush the deluxe cheeseburger he bought you right into his face.

“You can see yourself out,” you snap, shoving the door harder, trying to make him move his hand, but he doesn’t flinch. “Leave the door unlocked, won’t you? I’m gonna text Taehyung, see if he wants to come ove—”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, eyebrows pulling together, frustration darkening his gaze. “You’re seriously upset that I don’t want you with a fucking deadbeat? That I want you with someone who’s actually fucking good for you—”

“You’re not a fucking deadbeat!” You pull the door open with so much force that Jungkook stumbles slightly forward, not expecting it. “Stop acting like we’re on different levels! It’s not true—”

“You are, Y/N, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You didn’t choose the life you were born into, Jungkook. You’ve worked for everything—school, every cent you have—without help from anyone! You’re the opposite of a fucking deadbeat, and I hate hearing you say shit like that.”

“That’s who you want to be with?” he huffs, looking away for a second before meeting your eyes again, his expression almost pained. “Someone who struggles to get by, who was disowned by his family, who can’t offer you any fucking stability or—”

“I’d take you in any fucking form! How can you not see that by now?”

“So you’d really be happy bringing some tattoo-covered drug dealer home to Mommy and Daddy for the holidays?”

“More than fucking happy,” you throw back, crossing your arms defiantly as he steps fully into your room, shutting the door behind him. “Who do you think my family even is, Jungkook? You think we just sit around and laugh at anyone who’s not part of the 1% or something?”

“Of course not, baby,” he sighs, stepping closer, his tone softening. He hears your frustrated huff, but when you don’t move away, he relaxes. “I just don’t know what rich people are like. I’ve never actually… seen one? Before you…”

You roll your eyes. “You act like we’re some rare, endangered species, Jungkook.”

He laughs lightly, using your sarcasm as an excuse to close the remaining space between you. His hands find yours, gently covering them as you narrow your eyes, trying to hold onto your glare. You don’t pull away, though, and he barely bites back a smile.

“Never thought I’d have a pretty little rich girl begging me, of all people, to go steady…”

“Never thought I’d be rejected multiple times by a no-good drug dealer who’s clearly in love with me but too afraid of commitment—”

His eyes widen as he chuckles, your sassy retort catching him off guard. He pulls you closer, the sound of his laughter rumbling through you as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. “In love with you, huh?” he teases, and you feel his cheeky grin as he nuzzles deeper, your head tilting instinctively to give him more room.

“Mhm,” you reply, your voice laced with playful certainty. “It’s only incredibly obvious…”

“Oh?” he hums, his lips hovering just above the fading hickey he left on your neck a couple nights ago. “Thought I hid it so well…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe out, voice airy as his lips finally make contact at the base of your throat, right beside the last mark he left. His tongue brushes lightly against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he claims you all over again.

His lips are warm and soft against your neck. “You really want me? Like that?”

“Unfortunately,” you sigh, your fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. He chuckles softly against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. Just say that.”

Jungkook frowns slightly, pressing a kiss to your neck before pulling back to look at you. “Who wouldn’t want you—”

“You, apparently.” You deadpan, narrowing your eyes as his lips curl into a half-smile.

“I thought you knew how much I love you, baby… thought it was incredibly obvious—”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes anymore, Jungkook. It’s late, I’m sober, and I didn’t get any dick like I was promised tonight, so just—”

“Who’s joking?”

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the infuriatingly gorgeous boy standing in front of you with that semi-amused, semi-serious look on his face.

“Shut up,” you mutter, frowning.

His eyebrows lift, just a second of teasing. “Okay.”

“Good.” You grunt, stubbornly ignoring the cheeseburger calling your name from the dresser as you stomp into the ensuite. Jungkook follows quietly, watching as you grab your toothbrush with an irritated hand and begin washing up.

You feel his warmth behind you as he reaches for the toothbrush you set aside just for him, following your lead. You make a mental note to toss it in the bin tomorrow and send him a picture.

After you’re done, you pull your sweater over your head, tossing it into the hamper as you head out of the bathroom. Jungkook follows a moment later, just as you slip under your covers, settling in with your little silk shorts and singlet. “Turn the light off when you leave.”

Jungkook hums, strolling to the door and flicking off the light… mostly following your command.

The sound of clothes hitting the floor catches your attention, and you turn to see him, now hoodie- and sweatpants-less, setting a small container (which you’re pretty sure has your jays in it) on your bedside table. He lifts the other side of the comforter and slides in beside you.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” you roll your eyes, turning so your back faces him, though you make no move to kick him out. What? You’re cold, and he’s basically a human hot water bottle.

“You didn’t get your weed or your dick tonight, but you can have your cuddles,” he says softly, slipping his warm hand under the covers to rest on your stomach. With a gentle pull, he tugs you closer until your back presses into his chest. You stay silent, attempting to cling to the last shreds of your resolve, but with each soft stroke of his thumb against your skin, it starts to slip. So you try to hold on.

“This is the last time,” you whisper, confused at the sudden urge to cry, as if the true meaning of the words hadn’t fully registered to you until they were spoken.

Jungkook is silent, his thumb pausing its slow movements, though his hand stays in place. “Is that what you want?” his voice is low, hesitant, like he’s almost afraid of what you’ll say.

“Mhm.” You keep it short, not trusting yourself to say much more.

He gently tugs your top back down where it had ridden up, then rests his head in the crook of your neck. “Okay, baby.”

Why does it sound like he doesn’t believe you?

Your brows furrow as you let out a quiet sniffle. “I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Stop smiling! I’m serious!” You can’t see his face, but you can hear that infuriating smirk in his voice. Annoyed, you nudge his hand off your stomach, but he just slides it right back, like it belongs there.

“I know you are, baby.” Jungkook’s tone is softer now, but you can still hear the hint of teasing underneath.

“Whatever, Jungkook. Night,” you mutter, shifting slightly so your ass brushes up against his crotch. You smirk when you hear the quiet, involuntary grunt he lets out.

“Good night, baby,” he finally manages, his voice steadier now, and he pulls you closer, his big arms wrapping you like a burrito. “Sleep well. I love you.”

“Motherfucker—” you shoot up instantly, flicking on your bedside lamp and turning to him with a furious glare. Jungkook blinks, taken aback by the sudden light, then sits up slowly against the headboard.

“You’re such an asshole, Jungkook. Get out. I’m so serious.”

“Baby—”

“No, Jungkook! You're obviously just making fun of me at this point, like, that shit means something.”

“I'm not, Y/N,” he shakes his head, gaze stuck low on the blanket. “I know it means something.”

“Then why the fuck would you just say that to me if you don’t mean it? You’re so fucking cruel—”

“I mean it, baby.” His gaze finally lifts from the blanket, meeting your narrowed, furious eyes, his own expression completely earnest. “God, do I fucking mean it…” he lets out a short, almost disbelieving chuckle to himself.

You stay quiet, watching him as he shifts closer. He’s careful not to reach out, but he gets close enough that he can feel your warmth.

“I’ve never wanted to touch someone more in my life.” You roll your eyes, ready to scold him for making a crude comment in the middle of a serious conversation, but then his hand gently takes yours.

“Not sexually, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb gliding over your knuckles. “I mean, like… in general. I get these random urges all day to just fucking… touch you. I want to hold your hand, play with your hair… just being in the same room as you makes me less of an asshole. I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

“‘Less of an asshole’ is generous…” you mutter, trying to keep your composure even though your stomach just did a fucking somersault.

“I know,” he agrees with an amused hum, bringing your hand into both of his so he can play with your fingers. He falls silent for a moment, but then his brow furrows, his expression turning soft. “Wanna be yours so fucking bad, Y/N.”

“Well, fucking finally,” you sigh, pulling your hand from his hold and pushing him back into the pillows. You waste no time, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him. “That’s it then. I want you. You want me. We’re young, hot, and insanely sexually compatible. Date me, you idiot—”

He cuts you off just like you expected, mumbling, “Have you even thought about what this would actually mean, baby? You have so much to offer, and I—”

Before he can keep going, you close the distance with a grunt, your mouth on his, cutting off his words before he can put himself down any further. A low groan escapes him, his jaw slacking as your tongue slips past his lips, teasing and curling against his just the way he taught you. You feel his body relax, his hands gripping tighter around your sides.

“‘Have I thought about what this would mean…’” you mimic with a roll of your eyes as you pull back, reaching for the hem of your singlet. Without a second thought, you pull it over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

Jungkook lets out a low groan as your tits bounce free, coming within an inch of his mouth, his gaze hungry. So close, he thinks. He could just… take a little bite—

“Remember freshman year—the first time you made me squirt, and I cried so hard you started crying too?” you muse, scratching lightly over the faded hickey you left above his collarbone the other night.

He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to the swell of your breast before giving it a playful nip, purposely avoiding your nipple. “Thought we agreed never to bring that up again…”

“Haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night,” you confess, your voice going soft as your fingers rake through his long curls, spread out on the pillow as he lies back. “Nobody else does it for me anymore, Jungkook. So, yeah, I’ve fucking thought about what this would mean.”

He can’t do anything to calm the wild pace of his heartbeat, your words hitting harder than any strain of marijuana he’s ever had—and he’s had a lot.

You’re still straddling him, both of you shirtless with only a thin layer of fabric covering your lower halves. The warmth radiating from between your legs presses down against his half-hard cock, making him shift beneath you.

“If all you want is for me to make you squirt and cry…” he mumbles, his hands sliding up and down your bare hips in soft, steady strokes. “I don’t have to be your boyfriend to do that, baby.”

You pout. “Why can’t you make me squirt and cry and be my boyfriend?”

“Fucking hell,” he groans softly, his head lifting to press a trail of kisses along your right boob as it jiggles slightly with your movements. “Why does the word ‘boyfriend’ sound so hot when you say it?”

When his head falls back against the pillow, he bites down on his lip, his gaze locked on yours, his heart pounding as your pout slowly turns into the cutest fucking smile.

You lean down, lips hovering just above his, close enough that Jungkook instantly releases his bottom lip, ready to meet you halfway. But you stay just out of reach. “Stop being a scared little bunny,” you murmur, satisfaction sparking when his hands tighten around your hips at the nickname, “and be my boyfriend.”

“Could you say it back first?” he asks softly, his minty breath fanning warmly against your mouth. “Wanna hear you say it.”

You don’t need to ask what he means.

“Okay, sure,” you say easily, lifting your hand to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

A few seconds pass in silence, Jungkook nodding patiently, his gaze steady. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Oh, you must have gotten distracted by his hair.

“Right, sorry.” You pull your hand away from his hair, letting it rest on his chest as you shift to get comfortable, eventually deciding to sit up fully.

Jungkook follows, adjusting as he leans back against your headboard, keeping you snug in his lap as he waits.

“Right.” You nod, clearing your throat. Lifting your gaze from where your hand rests lightly on his stomach, you meet his big, eager eyes. Your lips part.

But no words come out.

a/n ohhh i'm actually gonna get muuurrrdered for cutting it there 😭 the rest is soooo unedited & rough(er than this 😬) i'm sorryyy 🥺 forgive me ok, needy pt 2 coming soon to hopefully soothe the ache 🤍

[metalbuckaroo]

Sweatshirt

Summary// getting fucked while wearing Bucky’s sweatshirt (that’s the best summary I can come up with sorry)

Warnings// smut, unprotected sex, cursing, lil bitta praise in there, lil bitta fluff

AU// stripper!bucky x innocent!f!reader

Note// fucking tumblr deleted half of this when I was in a deep deep zone where you basically black out and write. So I’m still mad ab it.

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Bucky was use to you being asleep by the time he was off work when you’d spend the weekend at his apartment. A smile spreading across his features when he saw you curled up in his bed, only wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a pair of underwear as the TV played the end credits of a movie.

He waited until after he showered to fully go into the bedroom, grazing his hand along your calf until you started to stir.

“You gonna wake up?” Bucky chuckled lightly when you turned to your back. The bed dipping under the weight of his knee when he started to make his way closer to you. “You just get off?” Your words were still laced with the sleep you’d just woken up from, legs going around his waist when he hovered over you. “Yeah, missed you being there tonight.”

You hummed when his lips slotted over yours, his hair still damp from his shower as your fingers tangled in the long locks.

Bucky enjoyed taking his time, gently massaging his hands up the outsides of your thighs until he reached your hips as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your ankles hooked together at the base of his back, fingers carding through his hair to pull him in closer when cold and warm hands glided up to hold your waist. Rocking his hips against you with a muffled groan.

“Gonna let me feel you, bunny?” He whispered into the kiss, getting a soft nod in response as you toyed with his hair. Large hands guiding your underwear down your legs so you could kick them off before he shuffled his briefs down. Thick tip gliding through your folds before he eased in, watching the way your body tensed for a moment as he stretched your walls to their limit.

Bucky was quick to notice the way you covered your mouth with the back of your hand as his hips rolled into yours, sweet sounds muffled against the fabric of his sweatshirt you wore.

“Lemme hear ya, angel.” He hummed, metal hand going down to thumb at your clit. A strained whine making him click his tongue and push deeper. “C’mon, I know you can be louder than that.”

Your hands went to hold the taut muscles of his back when he moved your hand away to lock your lips in his. Pushing the fabric up to expose your chest as his tongue slipped into your mouth. The steady rock of his hips slowly building the now familiar sensation in your belly.

“Little louder-” Bucky panted, rhythm of the deep thrusts picking up as his lips latched to the dip of your neck- angling his hips so the barbell just under his tip slid against the rough patch deepest in your walls. The needier whine that spilled from your lips making him let out a low groan.

“Good girl. Love hearin’ ya, bunny.” He grunted, your walls fluttering around him and nails raking down his back as you let out the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard.

“Fuck- feels good, s’good.” He said in almost a whine, metal hand reaching to the headboard as his pace picked up. His hips slamming into yours faster than he’d ever went before as your head tipped back against the mattress to strain the wanton moans- swearing he’d split you in two if he went any harder.

“B-Bucky-” you keened, curling your fingers into his back for some kind of grounding as he pounded into you. New shocks of pleasure shooting down your legs each time he’d fill you up, the relentless thrusts not seeming to let up as your cunt clamped around him again. A deep, drawn out moan pulling from his chest as he looked over your blissed out expressions.

Your lips parted as the breathy whines filled his ears, egging him on to chase his own high and work you through a second one. Fucking into you until you sputtered out a string of incoherent words, legs quivering at his sides when his hips dug into yours. Every throb of his cock filling you with his release as his face scrunched in pleasure.

A sweet, gentle kiss was pressed to your lips when Bucky slipped out of you, fully sated as he hummed in content.

“My perfect angel.”

🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍 🤍

Taglist: @lipstickandbarbedwxre @uhhnahhthnx @magicaleternal @jamesbarnesjr @marvel-3407 @thefallenbibliophilequote @goldylions @rbookgirl23 @missusbarnes-rogers @auriel187 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @littlemissthistle @cupcakehinch @chunky-yet-funky @thegirlnextdoorssister

[metalbuckaroo]

🍒Valentine🍒

💋Summary// At 3am, every Sunday, Bucky locks his bedroom door to watch his favorite camgirl. What's to happen when he finds out he's much closer to her than leaving generous tips on her videos?

🍒Warnings// smut, cursing, mentions of recording sex, lil bitta angst, some fluff, unprotected sex, alpine makes a entrance shdhehduw,

💋AU// Roommate!Bucky x Camgirl!Reader

🍒Note// Happy Valentine’s Day!!

💋Series Masterlist💋

🍒18+ ONLY MINORS DNI🍒

Walking into the apartment after going to the store, a white blur running across the floor made you stumble back a couple steps.

You shut the door, looking to where a fluffy white cat was hopping onto the couch. Bucky coming out of the hallway in his briefs. “Bucky, there’s a cat in our living room.”

He gave a warm smile, leaning his palms against the countertop. “I know, her name’s Alpine.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he rinsed off a plate that was in the sink. “All I did was go to the store, and now we have a cat?” You questioned, sitting the bags on the counter.

“We have a cat.” He nodded, obviously joyful of the new companion.

You let out a sigh and rounded the corner of the small island. “Help me put the groceries away.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky chuckled, swatting at your backside.

The two of you quietly put the groceries away, the new pet jumping onto the counter in front of you before brushing her head against your arm. “She is pretty adorable.” You smiled, petting her head as she purred.

Bucky hummed in response, leaning back against the counter beside you. “Tony is having a Valentine’s party tonight. Wanna go?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, smile widening as your head tilted to the side. “This your way of asking me to be your valentine, big boy?” His face went beet red as he scratched at the back of his head. “Relax, Buck. It’s Valentine’s Day, not like we’re dating.”

His heart clenched at those words, bionic hand reaching out to pet Alpine as he nodded. “I know. Gotta dress up though, y’know Tony.” He chuckled, pecking a kiss to your cheek.

“You go get changed, we have some work to do before we go.”

The filming session felt different this time.

Your heart pounding in your chest as Bucky’s arm wedged under your back, taking you with him as he sat back on his heels and let you take over. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as you feverishly rocked against him. Needy for that next mind blowing release he could give you so easily.

The camera wasn’t even a focus anymore, only how amazing he was making you feel. So full and wracked with pleasure as your fingers searched for the small remote. Quickly turning the camera off before discarding your mask, Bucky’s hand leaving your back long enough to grasp for the edge of his and pull it off.

“Fuck, cherry- feels s’fucking good.” You clenched around him from the whiny moan, his sweat slicked body hot against yours.

“My good boy, Buck?” You panted, tangling your fingers in his thick hair.

“Yes, fuck yes.” He huffed out, puffs of breath fanning your skin as he nosed at the valley of your breasts.

“Prove it.”

Those two words were all he needed to flip you back onto your back, hips ramming yours at a punishing pace as you cried out his name. Large hands gripping your hips to hold them in place as he chased after the unmatchable bliss he got every time he was buried inside of you.

“Make a mess on my cock, cherry. Need it-” Bucky grunted, thumbing at your clit as your body tensed. Your head tipping back against the mattress in a choked out moan as the white hot pleasure took over, clouding your mind so that all you could focus on was the drag of his cock against your spasming walls.

Pushing in once more, Bucky’s grip on your tightened. Surely to leave little round bruises in the place of his fingertips as he filled you with his spend. Short, slow thrusts working him through the aftershocks before he slipped from between your thighs, collapsing on the bed next to you completely spent.

“We’re gonna have to reshoot that one…” He breathed out after a moment of silence. Your hand searching for his metallic one as you kept your eyes closed.

“It’s fine, we’ll just post what we have.” You hummed, lacing your fingers with his gloved ones. “We better start getting ready for Tony’s party.”

“Hm, in a minute. I’m comfortable.”

Bucky had a hard time keeping his hands off of you at the party. The champagne he’d drank, and knowing you’d wore the almost completely see-thru red bra and underwear set he’d picked out at the store for a filming session, not helping fight the urge to drag you away into one of Tony’s bathrooms for a quickie.

The velvety red dress fitting you just right as he made his way to where you were talking with some mutual friends. His cock already stirring in his slacks as he thought over the different places he could lift you onto or bend you over in the shared apartment.

“There’s my gorgeous roomie.” He grinned, heart swelling when your arms went around his waist from the side.

“Look at you two, all matching.” One of the women said, your brain trying to piece together who she was as she smoothed a hand over the red fabric that covered Bucky’s arm.

“Happy accident.” He chuckled, resting a hand on your lower back. “I called a cab if you wanna come, cherry.”

“Absolutely, I’ll see you guys.” You waved to the the people you’d been talking to before following Bucky out of the home. The cab already waiting by the curb.

He was quick to have his hands on you the moment he slid into the backseat. Lips finding your pulse point and cold left hand cupping your thigh as you laughed. “Buck, we’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“Jus’ look so pretty, doll face. Driving me fucking crazy.” He groaned, nipping at your skin once more before settling back against the seat.

“Well, go crazy when we’re home.”

Which he did- hauling you up to his waist the moment the front door fell shut to press you against the nearest wall. Lips smothering yours in a breathless kiss as hands were free to wander, gripping and pulling at clothes.

Only to be interrupted by a fist pounding at the door.

You sighed heavily as he let you back down on your feet with an aggravated groan. Wiping at his lips to remove any smudges of lipstick before he jerked the door open.

“I’m a little busy, Sam.” He huffed, Sam gesturing to his apartment across the hall.

“Having a Steve meltdown over here. Could use a woman’s help.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped into the hall, Bucky following close behind as Sam held the door of his apartment open.

“Hey, Stevie. You alright?” You asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. His leg bouncing anxiously and head leaned against his hand.

“Peggy called wanting to restart things and now he’s having a crisis.” Sam quipped, pouring a drink in the kitchen that was open to the living room.

“I’m not having a crisis. She has a good point.” Steve snapped, keeping his eyes shut.

“Do not put yourself through that again. Okay? There are plenty good women who would want you.”

Steve scoffed at you, finally lifting his head so he could look at you. “Yeah, you’re one to talk. Got Bucky chasing after you like a lost puppy and you want do a damn thing about it.”

Your lips parted, eyes darting up to Bucky whose shoulders slumped as you stood. “Go ahead and have your heartbroken again, Steve. Maybe next time you’ll listen to you’re friends.”

“Cherry-” Bucky huffed out a breath when the door clicked shut behind you, rubbing a hand down his face. “Thanks, Steve. Now I have to go make sure my friendship is still in tact, and hope I’m not left fucking my fist on Valentine’s Day. Since Sam here interrupted me in the middle of something.”

“Wait, what?” He ignored Sam as he left the apartment, going back over to his own where your shoes had been kicked off at the door with you nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry he said that.” Bucky mumbled when he stood in the doorway to your room. Watching as you changed into something to sleep in.

“It’s fine, Buck. Just… kinda ruined the mood for me.” You sighed, slipping on the shirt that belonged to him as he walked further into the room.

“I understand, sugar. I’m gonna go change, maybe watch some TV if you wanna join me.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m probably just gonna go to sleep. Thanks though.”

“No problem.”

An hour had passed of Bucky sitting by himself in the living room. Barely paying attention to the TV as the front door opened.

“Everything alright?” Sam asked, sitting on the couch next to him.

Bucky shrugged, turning the tv off. “I think she’s still mad.”

“So, this whole time…” Sam trailed, piecing everything together a little bit at a time.

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Bucky didn’t want to give the real reason why he didn’t say anything- That he had been watching you on an app for months before joining in on the filming and the whole thing was suppose to be a secret. So, he spewed the closest thing.

“Because, we’re not dating, it’s just… for fun.” He shrugged again, leaning to sit his empty glass on the coffee table.

Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky’s lower abdomen when he’d leaned back against the couch. The edge of something red peaking from under the waistband of his athletic shorts. “What’s that?”

Bucky followed where his eyes were looking, pulling the waistband back slightly to reveal the lipstick print tattoo that was now etched into the skin on his v-line. “Impromptu decision from a couple days ago.” He murmured, letting the waistband snap back into place.

“Well- I’ll let you get back to mending. Sorry for barging in earlier.” Sam said, clapping the brunette on the shoulder as he walked back towards the front door. Leaving without saying anything else.

Bucky ran his hands over his face, sucking in a deep breath before standing to lock the front door and head towards his room. Noticing that you were still sat up in your bed, Alpine curled up on your pillow.

“You okay?” He asked softly, getting a nod in response.

“Yeah… Will you sleep in here tonight?”

He couldn’t help but smile at you as he made his way into the dim room, pulling back the covers and waiting for you to get under them before sliding in beside you. Laying on his side to pull you into his chest.

“Thanks, Buck.”

Taglist: @duchessoftheheart @uhhnahhthnx @magicaleternal @cwbucky @marvel-3407 @thefallenbibliophilequote @goldylions @rbookgirl23 @missusbarnes-rogers @auriel187 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @littlemissthistle @cupcakehinch @chunky-yet-funky @thegirlnextdoorssister @emmywinningengineer @spideysimpossiblegirl @treatbuckywkisses

[metalbuckaroo]

Thot came into my head as I was getting a deep tissue massage.

Beefy!Bucky as a massage therapist? Or reader is a massage therapist to mafia!Bucky? You choose.

-🧘🏻‍♀️

SUMMARY// Bucky wants you to be his personal massage therapist

WARNINGS// smut, lil bitta fluff, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing

AU// mafia!bucky x massage therapist!f!reader

NOTE// beefy!bucky as a massage therapist sounds fucking *chef's kiss* but for now- here's massage therapist!reader

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

You had been working for James Barnes for almost a year. His men walking out to your work van bi-weekly to carry the portable massage table and your bags into his home office.

This particular time, was a more impromptu home call when you were suppose to be home. You never minded when he did call with these appointments- he always paid extra for them, and made sure to make good company. Never going past flirty remarks and teasing words.

"Is it the shoulder again?" You asked as you stood behind his smooth leather chair. "In between, it feels strained for some reason." Bucky sighed, leaning forward a little bit as he unbuttoned his dress shirt.

"It's the weight of your arm, putting some strain on the muscles in your back." You droned, running your fingertips over an irritated spot where dark, smooth metal met flesh. Goosebumps prickling his tanned skin. "You should really get this checked out, James."

"Two, sometimes three, times a week for the last year- and I'm still not use to how soft your hands are." He said, breathing a laugh. Ignoring your suggestion. "You're still not getting that happy ending massage." You teased, rubbing the tense muscles. "One day."

These were Bucky's favorite moments- when all of his problems were melted away from your soothing touch. Not able to focus on anything else other than the way your fingers pressed into his skin.

He made light conversation; asking about your week, how work was going. Feeling his blood run cold when you told him about a client who was too touchy.

"Need me to deal with it?" He mumbled, letting his eyes close for a moment. "No, I don't. Did you do anything interesting this week?" You asked, pressing your thumbs up the back of his neck. "Not really, had a business deal go bad a couple days ago." He said with a content sigh. "That when your back started hurting?"

"Mhm- remind me to marry a massage therapist." Bucky joked, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him. "Feel any better?" He hummed in response as you moved away, slipping his arms back into his shirt.

"How much would I have to pay you- for you to be a personal massage therapist. For me." Bucky offered, leaning back in his chair. You shrugged as you stood in front of him. "My boss wouldn't be too happy with it."

"I'll deal with that. Could even stay here if you want, own private room and bathroom. Easier then dragging you out when you're not on the clock."

Leaning against the edge of his desk, you squinted your eyes at him. Thinking of his offer. "What's in it for you?"

The corners of his lips twitched downwards as he shrugged his shoulders. "Massages any time I want them and- I don't have to think of those pervy clients of yours putting their hands where they don't belong."

"What are you saying, Bucky?" You murmured, heart beat quickening as you watched him stand. Taking a step further so he could lean down to talk in your ear, cold, metal knuckles brushing up your arm. "I'm saying- I've thought about stuffing you with my cock since the day I hired you."

Your breath caught in your throat at the sultry tone, large hands holding your waist gently as he leaned away to look at you again. "Have you?" Bucky smirked, waiting for you to nod your head before lifting you onto his desk.

"Gotta tell me you want it, darling." He hummed, dipping his head to graze his lips along the side of your neck. "Yes, please." You breathed, hands clasping onto the sides of his shirt.

Bucky kneeled in front of you, hands curling around your calves to pull you closer to the edge. Cold metal and warm flesh gliding up the outsides of your thighs and under your skirt to drag your underwear down your legs.

A desire for him burning deep in your lower belly as he shoved your skirt up pass your hips. Gentle, open mouthed kisses placed up your inner thigh.

"Need a taste of this pretty pussy, sweetheart." A whimper left your parted lips in response, his tongue going flat against your folds and grip on your outer thighs tightening.

Your fingers laced in his hair, piercing blue eyes looking up at you as he latched his lips around your sensitive bud. Sucking and nibbling as he eased a finger into your walls, curling the digit to elicit a needy moan from you.

Bucky savored the breathy sounds he pulled from you, wanting to imprint the way you tasted into his brain as you whimpered and moaned his name. Something he thought he'd never hear from you.

Heat suddenly bloomed in your veins, a low moan vibrating against your clit as his eyes fluttered shut. Riding you through your high with gentle strokes against your walls.

"Holy hell..." You panted, Bucky letting your legs down from his shoulders as he stood. Working quickly at his belt, crashing his lips into yours.

"Taste so good." He groaned against your mouth, tongue searching for yours as it pressed through your lips. The faint taste of expensive scotch and your arousal tainting your tastebuds.

Your arms went around his neck, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair as his swollen tip prodded your entrance. A guttural moan mixing with your softer one as you stretched around him, his hands caressing your thighs as he pulled his lips away from yours.

"So perfect- soft. God, I just wanna bury my cock in your tight cunt and never stop." He huffed out, the erratic thrusts making it hard for you to focus on anything besides the pleasure that courses through you. His words barely reaching your ears.

Bucky's sturdy left hand grazed up your back, holding the base of your neck as you leaned your forehead against his shoulder. His cologne filling your nose, filthy sounds of skin slapping and nearly pornographic moans echoing off of the walls.

"Fuck, fuck- Buc-" His name died on the tip of your tongue, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of bliss crashed into you. His pace stuttering before picking up when your walls clamped down on him. "Feels fuckin' amazing, sugar. Gonna fill you till you're drippin', sweetheart."

Bucky's words sent a shiver down your spine, lifting your head to lock his lips in yours. His teeth biting your bottom lip when his hips pressed tightly against yours. Thick spurts of his spend coating your walls with a loud moan into your mouth.

You sighed happily, eyes feeling heavy as your hands held his stubbled jaw through the sensual kiss. A quiet whine pulling from your throat at the empty feeling when he pulled out.

Bucky smiled against your lips, tucking himself back into his slacks. "Thought you didn't do happy ending massages?"

"You're an exception."

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @an-adult-fairy @hallecarey1 @jxlystan @elizabeth228 @secret21121 @strwbrrybucky @busybeingtrash @harrysthiccthighss @everything-burns-down @ynsdiarys @sunnynapp @bucky-harrymybfs @sylleblossomstar @winter-soldier-101 @smokeinherperfume @andreead @amalfoyandariddle @mal-edictions @missusbarnes-rogers-laufeyson @sky0401 @saturnaliatemple @doll1917 @eireduchess @commonintrest

[metalbuckaroo]

Prize

SUMMARY// Bucky loses his first fight since meeting you

WARNINGS// mentions of fighting and minor injury, light smut, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst

AU// Fight club!Biker!Bucky x F!Reader

NOTE// This is a lil bitta insight on the upcoming fight club au fic I've been planning for biker!bucky 👀 but it also didn't come out as I had planned thanks to drinking alcohol too fast 🥴

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

"Five minutes Barnes." Tony said from the doorway of the locker room of the abandoned gym the fight was scheduled in. Bucky nodding in agreement as you carded your fingers through his hair. "You've got this, Buck. Okay?" You assured, gathering his hair to tie an elastic around it.

"My nerves are on fucking end, if I can't calm down. I won't be able to fight. This guy is huge." He scoffed, shaking his head as you moved to stand in front of him. "Tony has a lot of money on this one." He continued, oblivious to the way you were unbuttoning your blouse.

"Look-" his eyes snapped up to look at your chest as you exposed it to him. Shoulders relaxing a little and head tipping to the side. "Better?" You asked with raised eyebrows. "Much." He exhaled, not looking away from your breasts. "Don't get too excited, you only have a few minutes left. Get your sleeve on."

Bucky frowned as you started to button your shirt again, not looking away until the last button was fastened again. "Buck, sleeve." You said handing it to him. "Okay, okay." He chuckled, tugging the spandex fabric up his scarred left arm.

"Hurry it up!" Tony called as Bucky put the gloves on.

"Good luck." You said softly, a gentle kiss pressed to your lips before he sent you a wink. "I'll be back for my prize, babygirl." He teased, backing towards the door. "I'll be waiting."

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Bucky was quiet the entire ride back to his apartment, only talking to ask if you wanted to stay with him or wanted Tony to take you home.

He figured you'd stay, but he had lost, so he wasn't sure if it'd be the same answer as every other time. Especially since it was the first fight he'd lost since the two of you started seeing each other.

"Let's clean you up, alright?" You said, taking his hands to pull him with you to the bathroom. Running a warm bath to soothe his sore muscles as he undressed behind you.

He silently let you clean him up as he sat in the warm bath, something he use to refuse in the beginning until he realized you wouldn't give up until he agreed, and how your relaxing touch melted away the tension that built up through the match and after.

You could tell he was mentally beating himself up for losing, no matter how many times Tony assured him it was fine and everyone loses from time to time.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to stay. I know you're use to me winning." He muttered, letting his head lean back against the edge of the tub. "You still won to me, Buck. You tried your hardest and that's all that matters." You said softly, carefully wiping away any dried blood on his face with the warm rag.

"I can't believe I fucking lost... I have to crack down extra hard to get ready for the fight with Rumlow. I have a point to prove with that one." He stared up at the ceiling as he spoke, sighing when you pressed a kiss to his bruised cheek. "And you will. I'm proud of you for taking the match with Rumlow. I know you've been avoiding it since everything happened."

Bucky's heart warmed as he turned his head to look at you, a soft smile creeping on his face. "Do I still get my prize?" You breathed a laugh at him and nodded. "Always. What kinda prize do you want?"

"Anything that involves nudity or me holding you." He chuckled, watching as you stood from kneeling on the floor next to the tub. "You finish up, I'll wait for you in the room."

Leaving him to finish, you walked down the short hall to his bedroom. Undressing before slipping under the covers.

A few minutes passed and Bucky walked in, drying his hair with a fluffy grey towel as he lifted the edge of the cover to peak at you with a playful smile.

"Feel any better?" You asked in almost a whisper as he got into the bed next to you. "Mhm." He hummed in response, moving his large frame over you. "As long as I have you, I've already won."

You bit back a laugh, rolling your eyes jokingly as you laced your fingers in his damp hair. "You are so cheesy." You said, pulling his head down to slot your lips over his, lifting your legs to his waist.

Bucky slipped his hand down to run a finger through your folds, humming in approval as your slick coated the digit before shifting around for a more comfortable angle.

"Bucky, you're hurt. Let me get on top." You insisted, going to sit up when his large hand held your waist. "I'm fine, baby. Just lay back." He nodded, eyebrows knitted together as he lined himself up with your heat.

He wouldn't tell you- but he needed to have you under him. Clinging onto him as he pulled you apart, whether his ribs were bruised or not. He'd bare the ache of his muscles to have the pleasurable sting of your nails digging into his back mask over it.

To repay you for always being there to help him patch up even after the roughest matches.

Bucky watched your eyebrows scrunch together and eyes flutter closed as he eased into you, slowly rocking his hips into yours to press deeper with each steady movement.

Your face buried in the dip of his neck, senses taken over by everything Bucky as each sweet moan filled his ears. His arm going under your back to hold you closer, the angle making your fingers tug the soft strands of his hair to elicit a moan from his chest.

"So lucky to have you." He breathed out, your lips latching to the side of his neck to leave light marks he'd proudly show off until they faded and were replaced by new ones.

The knot in your core tightened with every bump of his hips against yours, the slow, deep strokes against your walls quickly pulling you to the edge as you whimpered against his skin. Gripping his hair in your fingers as you released around him.

Bucky's huffed out breaths fanned your jaw and neck as he worked for his own release, holding you tighter against him when his hips stuttered. His movements stopping when your teeth grazed the more sensitive skin of his left shoulder, choking out a moan as he filled you with thick spurts of his spend.

You sighed happily, your hands roaming down to his firm chest as he peppered kisses from your jaw to your lips. Slowly moving his arm from under you to let your body relax against the mattress, laying on his side next to you.

"I owe you so much, you're the best thing that's happened to me." He mumbled when you turned to face him, your arm laying over his side. Careful to avoid his ribs. "You don't owe me anything. If I gotta watch you take punches, I'm always gonna patch you up." You sighed, cuddling into his chest.

Bucky's fingers traced lines across your back, his chin resting on the top of your head. "As long as it makes you happy, I'll always let you."

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @an-adult-midget @ju5tyna20 @hallecarey1 @jxlystan @elizabeth228 @secret21121 @strwbrrybucky @busybeingtrash @harrysthiccthighss @everything-burns-down @ynsdiarys @sunnynapp @bucky-harrymybfs @sylleblossomstar @winter-soldier-101 @smokeinherperfume @andreead @amalfoyandariddle @mal-edictions @commonintrest @eireduchess @doll1917