Lights Out, Words Gone

Lights Out, Words Gone

[yoongi x reader] [1.4k+ friends to lovers, light angst]

A/N: So, there was an attempt, by me. Heh. I'm just really trying to get back into creative writing. I used to enjoy writing, but no one told me that turning that into a career and years of writing newsletters and articles for corporate dulls the mind and at this point, even journaling feels like a chore. But if you found this fic and somewhat enjoyed it, I'm grateful.

-

It's ridiculous, you think to yourself. How can someone be easily disarmed by a smile?

One minute, you're furiously driving at 2 a.m. to fetch Yoongi from a dive bar—miles and hours from where you live so you're well within reason to cuss him out; the next, you're giggling next to him after he told you the lamest joke you've ever heard.

"Y/N, what did the full glass of water say to the empty glass of water?"

In no mood for his shenanigans, you slide the bottle of water you bought during the drive over, closer to him. Unperturbed, he continues with a grin, "You look drunk."

You let out an annoyed sigh. The joke doesn't even make sense, and yet, because it's Yoongi's gummy smile and his contagious giggles that echo across the empty chairs and fills the bar, your mood shifts.

Suddenly, you snort a laugh. Hearing your amusement, his giggles turn into hearty laughs, and you follow.

Yoongi catches his breath after a minute and fluffs his hair. Suddenly, he looks so soft and cuddly. You feel your breath winded.

Feeling compelled to break the silence, you tease, "Did you steal that joke from Jin?" You don't wait for an answer. You usher Yoongi out of the corner of the bar he hid himself in and he lets you push him out as he weakly argues, "Did not. I thought of it myself. I can make funny jokes too, you know." You hum in response, amused by the pout forming on his face.

-

Yoongi trudges straight to his bedroom as soon as you arrive in his place. You follow, wanting to at least make sure he's tucked in with a bucket on his side of the bed—a precaution, lest he hurls his guts in bed, which rarely happens. But better to be safe than sorry.

You eye Yoongi as he grabs a shirt from his drawer and take that as your cue to leave.

"Stay the night," his voice gravelly. You stop mid-journey out the door.

What.

"Uh, Yoongi—"

"It's too late to drive," he crosses the room and pulls your hand to take his shirt. "And if you think I'm letting you take the couch, I'm offended. Sleep here."

A beat passes. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he winks.

Right. As if you'd forget. You remember all too well how Yoongi gets needy and cheesy when drunk—which is why you hesitate. You need to distance yourself before your feeling overwhelms you and make you do something you would regret.

"Remember hell weeks shared in Jin's fancy dorm room? You snored like a fucking berserk honking truck," he chuckles, probably remembering those younger versions of you whose only problems were exams and thesis defense.

The nostalgia hits you, and you quip, "Ya! I remember Jungkook and I pulling an all-nighter for all those times. It was actually you who loudly snored."

Yoongi erupts in soft gummy giggles as you playfully give him the stink eye.

-

Laying stiff beside him, you almost succeed in willing your mind to slip into dreamland when you hear comforters shuffling until you feel him closer to you.

"You awake?" he faces you. "I am now," you huff. You open your eyes to adjust to the dim room, the only light source coming from the street lamp post outside his bedroom window and the tiny static light of your charging phone on the bedside table.

"I just…" he starts, "I wanted to thank you for picking me up. The guys were either out of town or probably too deep in their sleep to hear their phones ring."

"Yes, well… I was on the other side of the town and deep in sleep when you called." You weren't sure what your point was. Probably wanted him to know that you know he definitely did not call anyone else but you tonight.

But of course, he knows that you know. He knows he can't bullshit you. Not when you used to spend every waking moment since you met in college, which was almost 24/7, since you barely slept then. Years of friendship synced you together—getting used to one's idiosyncrasies, being able to read each other across the room, and sharing the same opinion on all things you deemed important.

"And yet you still came. I'm surprised you actually picked up after weeks of radio silence."

Yoongi starts to pick at his nails, his anxiety peaking. Atuned to even his habits, your hands reach to envelop his and you rest your cheeks atop.

"I actually thought it was one of my booty calls," you joke. He doesn't laugh or react, so you turn serious, "I'm your friend, of course, I'll come get you."

Always.

You smile at him, "It actually wasn't a bother. Get some rest, Yoongi." Thinking you ended the conversation, he suddenly confronts you, "You say that but you suddenly cut me off. Why?"

Ah.

Now, you consider if he orchestrated the whole thing. Trying to corner you so he could finally confront you. It wouldn't be out of his character.

You unclasp your hands.

"I didn't cut you off," you lamely defend yourself and hope he lets it go.

Again, this is Yoongi who's calling you out. You can't evade him just like he can't bullshit you. So he holds out.

"Right. So you suddenly dodging my calls and missing weekly hangouts when I'm available to join, is what? Coincidence?" His voice remains calm, but you would miss how it sounds heavier if you hadn't known him for years. Each word is weighed down with pent-up emotion, and now those fueled words hit you like bricks.

"I've gotten busy. Everyone did after graduation." A half lie, half truth.

He shifts a bit closer to you. "You know, even in the dark, I can tell when you're lying, right? I may not see how your eyes get shifty, but your voice has that lilt at the end when you speak. Almost as if you're also trying to make yourself believe in your lie."

You can already feel the onset of a headache from your lack of sleep, but what's more pressing is how your heart dreads being this close to him again, even more so now that you're being called out and you have no excuse. At least nothing good enough to pass Yoongi.

As the minute passes, the silence thickens, and you feel yourself growing even more tired. It could be from the drive, lack of sleep, or that you just fucking had the most mentally-draining shift just hours before that you finally resigned with honesty. Besides, now that you take a glance at his curled-up form beside you, you admit that he, at least, deserves to know why you distanced yourself.

Yoongi has been your best friend for years—the one who made sure to look into your eyes as he encouraged you to take the extra classes because if you thought it would help you secure the job of your dreams, then he believed it would pay off in the end, and you needed to believe that, too.

Yoongi, who held your hand when you went through mental and emotional hurdles. You honestly believe you wouldn't be here now, living and breathing, had it not been for him.

If only the way you looked at him stayed the same, and how his hands felt in yours remained unnoticed, like those days when he held you as you hurled your guts at bar restrooms after chugging down cheap vodka and beers.

If only your affection towards Yoongi didn't root themselves in what you thought was your uninhabitable heart and grow its tendrils over the years of laughing, crying, and sharing even the most mundane moments with him.

And so you will be honest, but you don't know where to start other than offering an apology.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi. I fucked up," tears brim your eyes but you look at him. You let your repressed emotions out and they're coming out all at once that you're overwhelmed. But you need him to know

Yoongi doesn't respond but motions for you to continue. It's his turn to take your cold hand in his and warms it between his. And it is during this delicate moment that you let it out, "I seem to have fallen in love with you."

How cliche, you rebuke yourself.

You hear him let out a sigh. Out of relief or disappointment, you're unsure.

You shift your eyes to the window behind him and get a glimpse of the rising sun. The aura of the rising sun breaking the dark blue night sky.

You don't know how many seconds, minutes passed. Yoongi remains silent.

Oh god. Surely this can't be a good thing.

You should leave now. You pry your hands away, but before you could even leave the bed, Yoongi finally breaks his silence,

"Then I fucked up, too."

-

>> Read Lights Out, Words Spill

Bad Omens

[jungkook x reader] [1.8k+ smut, angst; two-part series]

these bad omens, I look right through them, that's what you do when you love somebody

-

The raging buzz you feel collides with the mellow hum of the love song Jungkook has playing on the car stereo.

Each movement you make, a huff and a puff escapes your lips. Your eyes shooting icy daggers at your husband.

Feeling ignored, you pivot your attention to the seemingly endless road home. Your final act was crossing your arms and making sure he hears your snappy and annoyed tsk.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook has been trying really hard to be patient with you. His energy has been drained up to the last drop during the baby shower you attended. When you both said your goodbyes to your friends, he anticipated a calm drive, but no, for some unknown reason, you decided to flip your bitch switch on him.

Spotting a lay-by, Jungkook swerves the car to the side of the road.

"Why are we stopping here?" Your confusion momentarily eclipses your irritation at the sudden stop. The knot in your brows undoing, and for the first time since you left Jin hyung's home, you and your husband make eye contact.

"Well, Y/N," he huffs particularly at the utterance of your name. "I'm not taking you home with that attitude. So, tell me, what's wrong?"

You scoff. Now you're offended, and when you feel this way, you can't help but be petty. All reason and ability to communicate goes out the window.

"You already know what pissed me off." You unbuckle your seatbelt and attempt to get out of the car, ready for a dramatic exit. But as soon as you unlock the car, Jungkook locks your door from his side.

You grunt, fingers pushing the unlock button. Without missing a beat, he locks it again. You groan in annoyance, and Jungkook 'patiently' waits for you to spill what you've been holding back.

You harshly lean yourself on the seat. Defeated and frustrated, you glare at the doe eyes staring at you. "You embarrassed me back there," your simmering rage starts to bubble in your throat as you choke out a sob. Already tearing up at the mere thought of it as you try to articulate your anger. "You told our friends you never have to deal with me getting baby fever because I lack maternal instinct."

You furiously wipe at the tears freefalling from your eyes. "I mean what kind of husband says that about their wife?"

It was quiet for a moment. Too quiet, and you felt uncomfortable being around the person you love and trust the most. You stifled your sniffles.

Across from you, Jungkook looked like a fish coming up for air, with his lips puffed open and closed. He was speechless and motionless.

Jungkook knew he screwed up when he made that remark. He couldn't even backtrack nor come up with an excuse for it. Sure, you were privy to your emotions even to him, your husband of three years, but he had no reason to be telling people those. But he swears he only wanted your friends to get off his back. He felt like he was in a pressure cooker from all the bombarding comments and questions about when he would have a kid. He could only hope you hadn't heard it back then.

Clearly, he was wrong.

"Sweetheart," he placates, his hands warming your cold face as he cups and wipes the tears. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. That—that was really wrong of me to say." Jungkook pulls you to his chest, and your dam breaks. You're only glad your sobs were muffled. One of your hands curls at the lapel of his leather jacket and the other is clenched, throwing weak, harmless blows to his shoulder.

You stay curled up together inside the car. None of you knows how long, but in that shared silence, he was able to comfort you when he couldn't with words.

The loud clattering of ice and rain falling on your car rouses you. Groaning as you crack your strained neck, you shake Jungkook awake.

"Jungkook, we gotta get home." With a voice as hoarse as yours, he curses and sits up to stretch.

With eyes still squinting with sleep, Jungkook starts the car, then drives away.

-

"Wake up," a voice purrs. The voice is breathy and pointed. It tingles you in all the right places. A sudden surge of pleasure erupts from your core. Still sleep-laden, you softly whimper as your hand aimlessly touches your crotch—aching for release.

Your name is called again. This time, the voice was loud enough for you to recognize it to be your husband's. Your eyes flutter as you look down between your heaving chest, "J-Ju-Jungkook," you moan.

"Breakfast in bed, sweetheart." The proud man between your legs smirks at you, then when he's sure he has your attention, he sticks his tongue out until the tip reaches your clit and flits his tongue up and down.

"Shit, baby," you pant. The spaces between your fingers are filled with his soft hair. You tug his head closer, urging him to devour you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle. The vibration adds to the blinding arousal you're experiencing, causing you to carelessly throw your head back to the soft pillows.

He pulls your legs closer and rests your thighs on his shoulders—his hand cupping your ass. You gasp and your body starts to quiver until your arousal squirts out of you. Jungkook slurps you like his morning orange juice—drinks you in like he was wandering in the desert and he found an oasis in you.

"Sweetest breakfast ever. But I'm still hungry, babe." Jungkook wipes his mouth with his hand while he kneels on the bed to position his hips between your legs. With a cocky smirk, Jungkook immediately pumps two of his fingers into your pussy.

"Shit. Fuck. Jungkook," you wail, body thrashing in your bed. You push your hips towards his hands and you were quick to cum again.

Jungkook leaves kisses on every inch of your skin until he reaches your lips. You slip your tongue in his mouth and bite his lip, evoking a satisfied hum.

"My turn," you propose as you push him on his back.

-

"Okay, answer this, do you want to have a kid now?" You stare at your husband's eyes as yours starts to sting with the brimming tears you're trying to keep at bay.

You want to stay level-headed, not be driven by your emotions. You need to talk to him, Y/N—you remember your mom telling you. She was right. This was a talk between you and your husband, but it's difficult, and somehow, all your talks start with you with your hands up already in defense.

"I want what you want, Y/N." He sighs.

Jungkook was tired—not because of or from you, but physically. Going out straight all night was taking its toll on his body, and with that, he was prone to being more irritable.

"Christ," you cry out. "It's sentiments like those that make me feel like shit, you know?" You grunt in frustration. You look away from him, but your body remains close to his. You want to walk away, but you keep reminding yourself this talk needs to be done. And so, you plant your feet on the ground.

"You think I'm supposed to swoon and love you even more when you tell me you want what I want, but all I feel is I'm alone in making a decision that's too heavy for one person to make." Your confession was sharp on your tongue and it drove daggers to Jungkook's heart.

You recoil at seeing Jungkook's eyes moisten with tears.

"I-I know you love me, Jungkook. But—"

"No buts." He cuts you off. "I love you, Y/N. And I want to have a baby with you."

"You can't just say that." Your voice was soft, like you were worn out, but your eyes remained hopeful as they searched for truth in his.

Jungkook closes the gap between your bodies and leans his forehead against yours. In a whisper, in a voice he hopes would come across as sincere that it mirrors his heart, he re-affirms.

Happy tears fall from your eyes and you kiss him. "Take me home."

Even with the most mundane tasks, Jungkook looked good. Some days, like today, he looked too good.

You slowly pop each button to open your dress. Jungkook remains focused on the road, still clueless to your provocation. You proceed to slip your fingers under your dress, removing the flimsy cloth you call underwear.

At the sound of your seatbelt unfastening, Jungkook looks your way, and it's comical how his mouth pops open.

He swerves on the free road until pulling to a stop. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Arms outstretched to the dashboard due to his sudden turn, you scoff, "How could you drive that badly?"

"Badly? Are you..." Jungkook faces you. "You're the one out here flashing me. Thank fuck we're alone on the road."

Embarrassed, you impishly grin. With your tits still out and your dress hitched higher on your thighs, Jungkook gulps at the sight.

Catching his reaction, you smirk before climbing on his lap. He lets you. The adrenaline from your near-demise turned to lust. Jungkook grips your hips, hands pushing your dress to reveal your leaking cunt. You, on the other hand, frantically unbuckle his belt before taking out his semi-hard-on. You lick your hand, then stroke his cock to fully stiffen.

"Y/N," he stutters and bucks his hips in your hands. With a staggering drop to his dick, you both whimper. The sudden plunge was rough, but you loved the ache that came with it.

"Fuck," your husband curses. "Look at your tiny cunt swallowing me whole." he goads.

"Fuck into me," you command and Jungkook happily obliges—hips thrusting upwards. He presses his thumb to your lips and you open your mouth to suck at his digit.

Inside the car, a confetti of moans and groans explodes. Your arms wrap around Jungkook's neck to keep you from falling off from his lap. His aggressive thrusts have you bouncing, and you've hit your head on the roof once or twice, but the growing pain goes unnoticed. Thanks to your lover's unrelenting fucking, it's all you can feel, and you let it swallow you whole.

You bite Jungkook's thumb, not too hard to hurt him, but enough to feed into his pain kink. He cums first inside you. He quickly pulls his digit from your mouth and swirls it around your clit until you're reaching your climax with a shriek of his name.

Chest still heaving and high on pleasure, Jungkook teases you, "Think I fucked you good?"

His palm lays flat on your stomach and you laugh.

Yeah, he fucked you good, you muse.

-

Now That We Don't Talk

[seokjin x reader, slight hoseok x reader] [1.3k+ lovers to strangers, angst, suggestive content] A/N: Loosely based on 1989 vault tracks: Is It Over Now? and Now That We Don't Talk. I might write another drabble loosely based on a song for Hoseok x Reader. I'm thinking of picking up the story from the end of this one. As always, all stories I write and share here are an attempt to get back into creative writing; I truly appreciate everyone who finds my writing and shows their love. Please be kind!

You part the crowd like the Red Sea Did you get anxious though On the way home? I guess I'll never, ever know Now that we don't talk

: Not In The Same Way (prequel) | Be My Mistake (jhope x reader)

-

You don't mean to stare, but you can't help it.

From where you stand, you see Seokjin walk the red carpet, and on cue, camera flashes light up, and other artists and attendees are ushered quickly to clear the booth.

The runway is illuminated, both from the flashes and Seokjin's presence.

He always had that glow around him, and it didn't matter if he was walking the carpet or simply entering a room—he seemed to effortlessly carry that aura wherever he went.

Seokjin poses like it's second nature to him, giving the photographers quality shots that would publish well in magazines and tabloids, you’re sure.

You wonder how nervous he really is.

You know for a fact that events like these are never his thing. During one of your nightly rendezvous, he admitted that all the bravado he exudes in the spotlight was actually a front to shadow his anxiety.

Oh, the celebrity life.

He knows what he signed up for, but that doesn't mean he always enjoys the tenfolds of attention, particularly when he's the lone receiver. It overwhelms him, and that feeling is followed by unwanted anxiety and the urge to hide.

When your eyes meet on the carpet, you're surprised how you can still get a good read of how he truly feels behind his facade. You can tell he's anxious as hell, and it's taking everything in you not to rush towards him, hold his hand, and walk the carpet together. Not that you ever had the chance to do so when you were still together. But at least back then, he had you waiting behind doors, ready to warm his shaky, cold hands with yours, shift his focus, and lull his raging nerves before you had to go to your tables in separate ways.

You can't do that now. Or ever. Those are distant memories now, the gap bigger than where you and he stand.

Feeling like you've glued your feet too long where you stood, you turn away and head straight to your table, no detours to dressing rooms. No Seokjin to wait on closed doors. -

There's an after-party. Like always. And as you enter the venue, you immediately find Seokjin sharing casual conversations with almost everyone. Without trying, he will always be the main character in every event. And without meaning to, he always will be the life of the party.

You steal this time to study him. He grew his hair long, you note. And though you sense that the confidence he carries to approach people is a front, you can't help but be bitter that he chooses to talk to anyone but you. He doesn't even meet your eyes nor look your way.

But you can't blame him. You suppose you're not the comfort and familiarity he seeks at the end of parties like these. With a sigh as heavy as your heart feels, you excuse yourself through the crowd as you make your way to the open bar. You might as well have your own fun before the night ends.

On the other side of the room, the crowd parts for Seokjin wherever he walks.

-

"I didn't think I'd see you here.”

You turn to follow the voice and chuckle at the man who greeted you.

“Well, I was invited,” you retort with a shrug.

Hoseok hums. “I invited you to my parties before and yet you never came. What makes this one so special?” At the last word, Hoseok raises his brows as he briefly glances to the side of the room. Where Seokjin stood, you assume.

“Just… making appearances. I have an upcoming show.” A half-truth.

Hoseok was Seokjin’s friend. Before all the fame and faux friends came. You trio met during a variety show, Law of the Jungle. You initially hit it off first with Hoseok, coming from the same hometown. But as you mingled with everyone, Seokjin’s jokes won you over. You were over the moon when after filming, he approached you with a stuttered invite to go out for a coffee.

That moment was so long ago. And yet everytime you remember it, it feels like you got to relive the moment with how strong your emotions kick in.

“So, how have you been?” Hoseok pulls you out of your reverie. He signals for the bartender and briefly acknowledges him before he returns his attention to you.

You and Hoseok managed to down one glass of cocktail after another and another until you were guided as you stepped down from the stool.

“Let me take you home,” Hoseok offers. You stare at him for a moment, cogs in your brain working.

You always had a soft spot for Hoseok, but it always remained platonic. But tonight, for the first time, he also seems to have you weak in the knees for him.

Your eyes fall on the mole on his lips and you gulp on air before nodding.

Hoseok's hand remains rested at your hip as you both walk away.

A few tables away, you miss the pair of eyes fixed on your leaving figure. Seokjin's grip on the glass tightens, and he could lie to himself and say that the burn on his throat is from the whiskey he downed in one shot, but he knows the real reason just walked out of the bar.

He hasn't healed from you walking away, albeit figuratively, and seeing you walk out with someone who isn't him just prods his bleeding wound.

-

Kim Seokjin and Im Yoon Ah Looks Cozy at After Party

Im Yoon Ah Spotted Leaving Kim Seokjin's Home

You feel your headache worsen with each headline you read, and with every photo of them together that pops into your feed, you feel your gut churn.

At this point, you should be numb to these headlines. Seokjin has been a regular scoop for the tabloids lately, and while you try to rationalize that he was a free man and any person with 20/20 vision wouldn't turn away from his attention, it still stings when you're greeted with these types of headlines.

You tried to soothe yourself with the fact that the tabloids could stretch things out. You've had your fair share of taken-out-of-context stories published, too. Hell, the first time you saw his name mentioned with another girl's name in a headline, you went out to a bar with one of your exes and, out of spite, you invited the one guy Seokjin always felt jealous over, to party and go home with you.

You regretted it the morning after. You wanted to explain yourself to Seokjin. But held back since you've already made a fool of yourself.

Still, all those nights partying and hooking up with guys, you wondered if seeing your name alongside male celebrities in headlines had the same effect on Seokjin as it did on you.

You grip your phone tighter, and you feel your throat closing in. It shouldn't hurt this much anymore.

The pang in your heart grows at the thought that he parades himself with these women with no care in the world if they get photographed. Yet, when he was with you, he made sure you left at different times and drove to his home in different cars to avoid paparazzis. You're pulled from your pity party when someone knocks on your bathroom door, "Everything okay in there?"

Switching your phone off, you open the door to a shirtless Hoseok. "I'm fine. I'm just feeling a bit hungover," you sell your excuse with a lopsided smile. Hoseok hums, "I read somewhere that you can fuck away a headache; want me to try?" he wiggles his brows at you suggestively, and for the first time this morning, perhaps even in a while, you laugh. It's not a quip you would usually find funny, lame dad jokes were more of your taste, but willing your heart to heal, you let him brighten your mood.

Hooking your arms around his shoulder, you try to be seductive as you answer, "I don't think that’s true, but I’m ready to be proven wrong."

-

Orbiting: pt.1°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]

-

“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.

"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.

Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.

Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.

With his other hand rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.

"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.

But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"

"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."

"Can I watch?"

"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.

"Again?"

"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."

"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."

Jungkook hums, "Him, too."

"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"

Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."

You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.

"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.

"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."

Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.

Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.

-

>> Page 2

Bad Omens

[jungkook x reader] [1.8k+ smut, angst; two-part series]

these bad omens, I look right through them, that's what you do when you love somebody

-

The raging buzz you feel collides with the mellow hum of the love song Jungkook has playing on the car stereo.

Each movement you make, a huff and a puff escapes your lips. Your eyes shooting icy daggers at your husband.

Feeling ignored, you pivot your attention to the seemingly endless road home. Your final act was crossing your arms and making sure he hears your snappy and annoyed tsk.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook has been trying really hard to be patient with you. His energy has been drained up to the last drop during the baby shower you attended. When you both said your goodbyes to your friends, he anticipated a calm drive, but no, for some unknown reason, you decided to flip your bitch switch on him.

Spotting a lay-by, Jungkook swerves the car to the side of the road.

"Why are we stopping here?" Your confusion momentarily eclipses your irritation at the sudden stop. The knot in your brows undoing, and for the first time since you left Jin hyung's home, you and your husband make eye contact.

"Well, Y/N," he huffs particularly at the utterance of your name. "I'm not taking you home with that attitude. So, tell me, what's wrong?"

You scoff. Now you're offended, and when you feel this way, you can't help but be petty. All reason and ability to communicate goes out the window.

"You already know what pissed me off." You unbuckle your seatbelt and attempt to get out of the car, ready for a dramatic exit. But as soon as you unlock the car, Jungkook locks your door from his side.

You grunt, fingers pushing the unlock button. Without missing a beat, he locks it again. You groan in annoyance, and Jungkook 'patiently' waits for you to spill what you've been holding back.

You harshly lean yourself on the seat. Defeated and frustrated, you glare at the doe eyes staring at you. "You embarrassed me back there," your simmering rage starts to bubble in your throat as you choke out a sob. Already tearing up at the mere thought of it as you try to articulate your anger. "You told our friends you never have to deal with me getting baby fever because I lack maternal instinct."

You furiously wipe at the tears freefalling from your eyes. "I mean what kind of husband says that about their wife?"

It was quiet for a moment. Too quiet, and you felt uncomfortable being around the person you love and trust the most. You stifled your sniffles.

Across from you, Jungkook looked like a fish coming up for air, with his lips puffed open and closed. He was speechless and motionless.

Jungkook knew he screwed up when he made that remark. He couldn't even backtrack nor come up with an excuse for it. Sure, you were privy to your emotions even to him, your husband of three years, but he had no reason to be telling people those. But he swears he only wanted your friends to get off his back. He felt like he was in a pressure cooker from all the bombarding comments and questions about when he would have a kid. He could only hope you hadn't heard it back then.

Clearly, he was wrong.

"Sweetheart," he placates, his hands warming your cold face as he cups and wipes the tears. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. That—that was really wrong of me to say." Jungkook pulls you to his chest, and your dam breaks. You're only glad your sobs were muffled. One of your hands curls at the lapel of his leather jacket and the other is clenched, throwing weak, harmless blows to his shoulder.

You stay curled up together inside the car. None of you knows how long, but in that shared silence, he was able to comfort you when he couldn't with words.

The loud clattering of ice and rain falling on your car rouses you. Groaning as you crack your strained neck, you shake Jungkook awake.

"Jungkook, we gotta get home." With a voice as hoarse as yours, he curses and sits up to stretch.

With eyes still squinting with sleep, Jungkook starts the car, then drives away.

-

"Wake up," a voice purrs. The voice is breathy and pointed. It tingles you in all the right places. A sudden surge of pleasure erupts from your core. Still sleep-laden, you softly whimper as your hand aimlessly touches your crotch—aching for release.

Your name is called again. This time, the voice was loud enough for you to recognize it to be your husband's. Your eyes flutter as you look down between your heaving chest, "J-Ju-Jungkook," you moan.

"Breakfast in bed, sweetheart." The proud man between your legs smirks at you, then when he's sure he has your attention, he sticks his tongue out until the tip reaches your clit and flits his tongue up and down.

"Shit, baby," you pant. The spaces between your fingers are filled with his soft hair. You tug his head closer, urging him to devour you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle. The vibration adds to the blinding arousal you're experiencing, causing you to carelessly throw your head back to the soft pillows.

He pulls your legs closer and rests your thighs on his shoulders—his hand cupping your ass. You gasp and your body starts to quiver until your arousal squirts out of you. Jungkook slurps you like his morning orange juice—drinks you in like he was wandering in the desert and he found an oasis in you.

"Sweetest breakfast ever. But I'm still hungry, babe." Jungkook wipes his mouth with his hand while he kneels on the bed to position his hips between your legs. With a cocky smirk, Jungkook immediately pumps two of his fingers into your pussy.

"Shit. Fuck. Jungkook," you wail, body thrashing in your bed. You push your hips towards his hands and you were quick to cum again.

Jungkook leaves kisses on every inch of your skin until he reaches your lips. You slip your tongue in his mouth and bite his lip, evoking a satisfied hum.

"My turn," you propose as you push him on his back.

-

"Okay, answer this, do you want to have a kid now?" You stare at your husband's eyes as yours starts to sting with the brimming tears you're trying to keep at bay.

You want to stay level-headed, not be driven by your emotions. You need to talk to him, Y/N—you remember your mom telling you. She was right. This was a talk between you and your husband, but it's difficult, and somehow, all your talks start with you with your hands up already in defense.

"I want what you want, Y/N." He sighs.

Jungkook was tired—not because of or from you, but physically. Going out straight all night was taking its toll on his body, and with that, he was prone to being more irritable.

"Christ," you cry out. "It's sentiments like those that make me feel like shit, you know?" You grunt in frustration. You look away from him, but your body remains close to his. You want to walk away, but you keep reminding yourself this talk needs to be done. And so, you plant your feet on the ground.

"You think I'm supposed to swoon and love you even more when you tell me you want what I want, but all I feel is I'm alone in making a decision that's too heavy for one person to make." Your confession was sharp on your tongue and it drove daggers to Jungkook's heart.

You recoil at seeing Jungkook's eyes moisten with tears.

"I-I know you love me, Jungkook. But—"

"No buts." He cuts you off. "I love you, Y/N. And I want to have a baby with you."

"You can't just say that." Your voice was soft, like you were worn out, but your eyes remained hopeful as they searched for truth in his.

Jungkook closes the gap between your bodies and leans his forehead against yours. In a whisper, in a voice he hopes would come across as sincere that it mirrors his heart, he re-affirms.

Happy tears fall from your eyes and you kiss him. "Take me home."

Even with the most mundane tasks, Jungkook looked good. Some days, like today, he looked too good.

You slowly pop each button to open your dress. Jungkook remains focused on the road, still clueless to your provocation. You proceed to slip your fingers under your dress, removing the flimsy cloth you call underwear.

At the sound of your seatbelt unfastening, Jungkook looks your way, and it's comical how his mouth pops open.

He swerves on the free road until pulling to a stop. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Arms outstretched to the dashboard due to his sudden turn, you scoff, "How could you drive that badly?"

"Badly? Are you..." Jungkook faces you. "You're the one out here flashing me. Thank fuck we're alone on the road."

Embarrassed, you impishly grin. With your tits still out and your dress hitched higher on your thighs, Jungkook gulps at the sight.

Catching his reaction, you smirk before climbing on his lap. He lets you. The adrenaline from your near-demise turned to lust. Jungkook grips your hips, hands pushing your dress to reveal your leaking cunt. You, on the other hand, frantically unbuckle his belt before taking out his semi-hard-on. You lick your hand, then stroke his cock to fully stiffen.

"Y/N," he stutters and bucks his hips in your hands. With a staggering drop to his dick, you both whimper. The sudden plunge was rough, but you loved the ache that came with it.

"Fuck," your husband curses. "Look at your tiny cunt swallowing me whole." he goads.

"Fuck into me," you command and Jungkook happily obliges—hips thrusting upwards. He presses his thumb to your lips and you open your mouth to suck at his digit.

Inside the car, a confetti of moans and groans explodes. Your arms wrap around Jungkook's neck to keep you from falling off from his lap. His aggressive thrusts have you bouncing, and you've hit your head on the roof once or twice, but the growing pain goes unnoticed. Thanks to your lover's unrelenting fucking, it's all you can feel, and you let it swallow you whole.

You bite Jungkook's thumb, not too hard to hurt him, but enough to feed into his pain kink. He cums first inside you. He quickly pulls his digit from your mouth and swirls it around your clit until you're reaching your climax with a shriek of his name.

Chest still heaving and high on pleasure, Jungkook teases you, "Think I fucked you good?"

His palm lays flat on your stomach and you laugh.

Yeah, he fucked you good, you muse.

-

Play It As It Lays

[taehyung x reader] [1.5k smut: mirror sex, creampie, unprotected sex, virgin kink??, really just porn with a lil bit of plot; Taehyung is a famous Cellist who was hired to tutor OC.

Just a self-indulgent fic.

-

People said to never meet your heroes.

You'll be let down, they say.

But you would beg to differ.

And beg, you do.

With your bodies sitting naked on the couch, Taehyung has you facing the mirror and the sight of your petite frame slotted between his bulging naked thighs shoots up your arousal. Your perfectly intertwined limbs could inspire a whole series of shunga artwork.

Calloused hands grip each of your knees and push them wider apart before a hand returns to cup your dripping sex.

"Please," you whine. The words that fell from your swollen lips were almost incomprehensible because of how breathy and timid it sounded.

But that was just one of Kim Taehyung's effect.

The man lives up to his reputation in the Classical music industry—charisma just as alluring as people described and his presence calls for attention, not because he, himself, demands it, rather there is something lingering in his aura that just lures and pulls you into him. And when he looks at you, it's a mixed feeling of intimidation and desire to keep his eyes on you.

And to you, it makes you want to defy him. You itch to see if you can crack that calm and stoic demeanor of his.

Taehyung only hums in response to your plea and you feel his chest rumble on your back. It's close to an hour and yet all he did with his finger was tease you. Everything he has done was all build-up, never the climax.

"You're so delicate." His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you. His body is so close, you hear the wet smacking of his tongue inside his mouth as he speaks. He dips his fingers inside your pussy as he presses his thumb on your nub, leaving you shuddering in pleasure. "And so sensitive. My pretty virgin," he tsks. "You're making a mess, darling."

You mumble out a half-hearted apology to which he snorts at. You struggle to keep your tears at bay. Frustration and defeat are obviously written on your face. If only you knew how to touch yourself, you would've done the job yourself. But no. You can play with yourself all you want, but you've never experienced an orgasm. And none of what Taehyung does to your body now matches the pleasure when you touch yourself.

And so, you remain at his mercy.

It was torture to be teased, but the way Taehyung's arm muscle clenches and your body twitches has your attention stuck to the mirror. It was as if his hand was a bow and your body held the strings that create the most beautiful melodies.

His right hand pushes in and out of you in timed intervals and his left hand grips your neck, arms across your body to hold you close to his. It was oh-so-intimate.

But of course, this was also a way for Taehyung to restrain you.

"Take it," he lectured when your body thrashed around from sensitivity. "The pleasure is tenfold if you endure it. Just like playing the cello—a sublime piece is achieved from laborious and seemingly endless revisions. So, take it."

The growing warmth between you has you both sweating—the smell of sex in the air grows potent by the minute, pushing you further into your shared haze.

You don't mind that all Taehyung does is play with your body. He can do whatever he wants to you for all you care. But you also have this feral need to learn about his body—play with his cock and grip it as tight as you hold your instrument in place between your thighs. You want to hear the sounds he makes as you play with his body. He has been hearing you chant his name with moans and sighs in different pitches; it's his turn to sing.

You focus on Taehyung's hand disappearing and reappearing from your cunt. The velvet couch that carries your bodies is vandalized with your slick and his precum. His hands are truly just as skilled in playing the cello as it is in flitting around your body. You can almost taste it again—your sweet peak.

But you can't come like this. Not yet.

Your hand halts Taehyung's movement, tongue darting to wet your lips, "S-stop," you stutter. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, one eyebrow raising in question. And so, with your senses still muffled with lust, you try your best to answer clearly, "Wanna cum on your cock, sir.”

Your legs wobbled as you changed positions—you're now kneeling on the floor with his thick dick right on your face. You gulp at Taehyung's size but also swallow the pooling drool in your mouth.

You ought to thank your parents for hiring Taehyung to give you private lessons. Albeit this isn't the lesson they had in mind, you personally think this is more… beneficial for you.

Without wasting another second, your hand grips his base to erect his cock and you run your warm tongue from his balls to his slit. The man above you throws his head back as air is expelled from his pretty lips. He leans his body backward, arms propping him up and he sets his eyes on you. "You're a feisty little thing, aren't you?"

You only respond with a smirk; smug eyes refusing to look away as you make a big show of sucking his tip like it’s the sweetest lollipop.

You're halfway there, you encourage yourself. You want to see the moment you break him.

Mimicking a move you watched on porn, you wet your hands with your slick before returning your hold on Taehyung's dick. With one hand stroking him up and down, your other hand caresses his balls within your palms like two delicate marbles.

Taehyung curses. You were sin incarnated.

Determined to get more from him, you push your head closer to his crotch, deep-throating his cock.

Unexpected and unprepared, Taehyung makes a guttural wail; his arm shoots up to hold you by your hair and his body reflexively sits up and pushes his cock at another deep angle inside your mouth which pulls another moan from the man.

You fight the urge to gag, and your eyes start to flood with tears. You could only claw at Taehyung's thighs.

Taehyung was quick to gather his wits and then chuckled at your state. His hand on your hair moves to cup your face before smudging your mascara as he wipes your tears before they fall.

"Come up," he instructs as he pulls his cock from your mouth. A plop is heard, and a string of your saliva mixed with his precum lingers from your lips. Taehyung's hands take control of your hips—his bruising hold guides you to sink down to his cock until you take all of him, pulling a pained moan from you.

Taehyung is a tight fit, and you fight through the initial discomfort as you move your hips. You teeter between the stinging stretch and warm addicting pleasure.

With a satisfied groan, Taehyung gently guides your head to level your sight with the full-length mirror and holds you in place. "Take a look at yourself. You look as heavenly as you sound," his voice in your ear is so soft and saccharine, you believe him. "And see how well you take me like a good girl," he praises, the tone switching to a little bit strained as your pussy clenches—the pain morphing to lust and desire. His hand goes back to your hips to help you ride his cock. The minimal movement gives you both pleasurable tugs, you can't help but moan.

With his thighs now caged between your own, you momentarily bend down to kiss his knees. Your action has him throwing his head back once again. But his eyes trail down to your curved spine all the way down to your ass perched on his hips.

Deciding that you've adjusted to his cock, Taehyung bounces your hips on his cock. The sight of your arousal creaming around his crotch has him salivating. As much as he wants to lick you clean, he badly needs a release. It's a miracle he lasted almost more than an hour.

You plant your feet on the ground and start moving at your own pace. Each slam of your ass on his thighs reverberated in the room as if cheering you on as you bounced faster and harder on his cock.

A contrast of warmth and shivers washed over your body as Taehyung laid open-mouth kisses on your back. As he reaches your neck, he sucks on the soft flesh to claim you, mark you—so you remember this night which will be the first of many. He promises.

You grab and tug at his hair to pull him toward your puckered lips and he obliges. The echoing sound in the room is no longer just your skin slapping but the smacking sound of your lips as you breathe each other in.

"Sir-r, I-I’m close," you stutter out between kisses amidst overwhelming pleasure. Taehyung meets your thrusts halfway. And as your pace increases, so does the frequency of the moans of the man behind you.

With a powered thrust, your body trembles as you climax. Taehyung follows not long after—your pussy spasming around his dick has him shooting up his cum inside you as he wraps you in his arms.

People who warned you to never meet your heroes, clearly never had the privilege of meeting Kim Taehyung.

-