Lights Out, Words Gone | Lights Out, Words Spill- [yoongi X Reader][2.4k+ Friends To Lovers, Light Angst,

Lights Out, Words Gone | Lights Out, Words Spill - [yoongi x reader][2.4k+ friends to lovers, light angst, smut, fluff] Exploration No. 5 - [namjoon x reader] [1k+ strangers to lovers?, fluff] Now That We Don't Talk - [seokjin x reader, slight hoseok x reader] [1.1k+ mindless drabble, lovers to strangers, angst, suggestive content] Be My Mistake - [jhope x reader] [1.4k smutty angst] Orbiting - 1° | 2° - 2,5° | 3° - 3,5° - [jungkook x reader; jimin x reader] [5k+ friends with benefits, childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, literally porn with a little bit of plot]

If you’re a current Kpop writer on here, can you reblog this and/or leave a comment? We’re trying to figure out who all is still here!

Orbiting: pt.3°

: pt.1° | pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.8k idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, TONS of smut, use of cock ring]

-

"Jungkook, you can't be serious," you're limping around your home following the cause of your headache.

"I am," he deadpans. He pushes your throw pillows on one side of the couch and plops himself in it. "Back to your room, Y/N. Or do you need me to tuck you in?" he teases with a grin.

Tired from the day and your ankle still throbbing with pain, you huff and retreat to your room. You don't bother closing your door.

"You coming?" You call.

A second passes. Then another. He didn't fall asleep already, did he?

A thud is heard from your living room. Then, Jungkook appears in your doorway.

Shirtless. You gulp, trying not to salivate. He knows he looks good; he doesn't need the boost.

"You're insatiable," he chastises, but at the same time, he's walking closer to you. "But you need to rest, babe." His hands softly rub your head, then tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not that. It's cold outside," you roll your eyes. "Can't have you getting sick, at least not until your game tomorrow. Your team needs their star player," you jest.

Jungkook only giggles, already claiming his side of your bed. The side that's always been his. Even before this whole friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook always slept on the right side of your bed during sleepovers or when he needed to crash the night after a long practice.

You lived a bit closer to the rink—that was his excuse to the guys on his team when they teased him. Also, his mom agreed that it wasn't safe for him to be driving late at night, especially when he was already tired. Sure, she didn't know he slept in your room, but it was all 'platonic' then. The important thing was he was getting good rest. It really wasn't because of your warmth beside him in bed and that he found comfort in seeing you after an exhausting day that made him sleep better. Or so he thinks.

It's a tug-of-war when it comes to him admitting how he feels on certain moments.

"Hey, get your head out of the gutter, Jeon," you mimic his words earlier.

With a pout but round eyes filled with mischief, Jungkook retaliates with tickles. In a fit of laughter, you try to get him to stop, "Gguk.. my fo—ot."

"Oh, shit," he raises his hand to stop. "Sorry, babe."

Catching your breath, you throw him a glare, "You're lucky I can't tackle you." Jungkook responds with by nuzzling his head in your neck and littering pecks on your neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbles between kisses.

You let out a chortle, "You're the one wreaking havoc on my bed, Jeon."

He hums coyly in reply.

"Hey," you nudge his head on your shoulder,"Thank you."

Jungkook tilts his head and and kisses your lips. "Always," his voice soft, sleep slowly penetrating him. You let a minute pass until his breathing evens out, and then, slowly and very carefully, you press your lips to his forehead.

"Night, Gguk," you whispered.

-

You were a morning person. And from the moment you wake up at 6 A.M, you follow your routine to a T.

The alarm goes off for the second time and the clock already reads 6:13 A.M. Your hands struggle to reach your phone on the bedside table and it doesn't help that Jungkook keeps pulling your body further down the bed. Your hips are pinned with his tattooed hands, back arched from pleasure, and legs dangle on the edge of the bed.

Kneeled at the foot of your bed, Jungkook pushes his face deeper between your thighs. His warm tongue switching between sucking and flicking your clit. The lewd sounds of wet pleasure and your breathless moans echoes around your room, drowning the blaring alarm.

You plead for more. You want more. You need more. More pleasure, more of Jungkook. So, you grab his head and push him towards your sex while you buck your hips. Jungkook only groans in response. You can feel your orgasm nearing, but right before you unravel, he pulls away.

"Fucking insatiable." Jungkook licks his lips, tongue catching every drop of you, "And I love it." He stands, his hard cock springing and leaking, then reaches for something in your bottom drawer. But before his hand could re-emerge from the box, you already know what to expect.

Both of your breathing picks up, eyes meeting each other. You were the first to break away. Your eyes traveling down to where his hands are—one shamelessly pumps his dick and the other holds a vibrating cock ring.

With your good foot, you push yourself back up to the bed. "Good girl," Jungkook smirks.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?" You taunt.

"Nah, I plan to wreck you, babe."

Cock ring in place around his dick, Jungkook aligns himself to your cunt. He's only a tip in and you can already feel the vibrations. Jungkook feels good, too. His brows furrowed, mouth hang open and quiet moans spill.

Truly insatiable and impatient, you pull Jungkook by his arms, "Wreck me. I want all of you, Jungkook."

The sounds your mouth and pussy make and the smell of sex permeating the air intensifies the pleasure Jungkook feels. He would love to start every day like now—buried inside you, your pussy clenching and sucking him back in every time he pulls out. Your whines grow pitchier every second, and Jungkook knows you're close. But he wants to prolong this moment, despite his cock throbs with want to release. So, he plunges deep into your pussy and stills. The cock ring still vibrates around his cock and sits perfectly in line with your clit.

Tears gather at your eyes and while you're always pretty, this look you have when you're being fucked dumb has to be one of Jungkook's favorites.

"Wanna cum," you plead. You're at each other's mercy, but it's Jungkook who drives you to orgasm—coming undone and moaning in unison.

The moment passes, and you both hiss at sensitivity from the vibrating cock ring.

"Wear my jersey to tonight's game, yeah?"

-

Loud sirens go off as the box opens, and the players run to the ice.

Your eyes are quick to scan the huddle, looking for the man with the 97 print on his jersey.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms. "Welcome to the beginning of the hockey season. Now, Neil, who do you think will be our star player this season?"

"Easy question, Jack. I would place my bets on Jeon Jungkook. This kid is dubbed the golden maknae of their team and to outsiders."

You agree. Jungkook truly excels in everything he does. And while it may seem as if things come easy for him to strangers and mere acquaintances, no one sees the early mornings and long hours of work he put in to be the best.

"What a phenom. I've heard at least 3 NHL clubs would love to have him on their roster. Truly an incredible young athlete. And if you haven't seen him before, you're in for a real treat."

Goal after goal has been made within the past 50 minutes. On the ice, Jungkook glances at the bright scoreboard. It's neck and neck, and the crowd chaotically shouts. He hears their team name louder, he thinks. And he can't help but feel driven at the thought that one of those loud cheers of his name is from you in the stands.

"It's your shot, Jeon," his teammate shouts as they pass around the puck. Jungkook is terrible at multitasking, but as he dodges the opposing team trying to get the puck, he quickly peeks at the side of the bleachers where he knows you always sit. It's a brief moment, but he sees you—hair tied with green ribbons, their team color, and you're wearing his old jersey. He was right, too. You were screaming his name.

He smirks. Speeds up, and the rest happens in quick succession—Jungkook shifts his hockey stick to take the puck, glides it to the center, and makes a goal.

The cheers grow louder. Despite remaining seated among the jumping crowd, Jungkook was quick to find you again, and you made eye contact. He smiles and you blow him a kiss back.

-

Still high on adrenaline, Jungkook slams his hips behind you. His sulky mood earlier from not being able to fuck you in the showers turned a 180 because he's reminded how much he prefers this view, anyway. His hands pull at your braid while you're fucking yourself back into him.

A strangled call of his name leaves your mouth. He doesn't like that you're holding back your moans. Slipping his cock out of you, he holds your leg delicately and flips you within the tight space of his car, knocking the breath out of you.

Above you, Jungkook's abs glisten with sweat, and his tip slick with your arousal and his. You sit up, wincing from the discomfort from your foot, and pull him for a kiss.

He loves it when you get this eager and hungry for a kiss. It has him fucked. Not only does it make him rock hard but it has his heart constricting, too. It doesn't help that no one else has made a mess of him like this. And he’s not just talking about the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure he gets every time you have sex.

Years ago, he thought he made peace with the fact that all you could ever be was best friends. But ever since your arrangement, his desire for you grew. He didn't even think it was possible, but here he is a year later. His arm clung to your waist, laying you on his backseat cushion. Jungkook continues to thrust into you. He picks up his pace, and his eyes are glued to your juggling tits before he bends over, pushing his cock deeper into you, and attaches his mouth to play with your right nipple.

As he always does each time you fuck, he makes sure your pleasure comes first. If he can't be outright with his feelings, Jungkook secretly hopes that the way he fucks you—putting you first and taking care of you during and after sex, conveys his feelings and intention. And with every kiss you pull him in for, the unspoken words at the tip of his tongue would smooth over yours.

He would never deny that the attraction towards you has always been there, but he's not shouting it from the mountains either.

At least, not yet.

Plus, he thinks that if you really wanted more from your no-strings-attached arrangement, you would have said so. And he isn't that stupid to be the one who will bring it up, all because his heart and his dick is in-sync. He'll wait it out, he decides. Whether it's for his feelings to subside or for you to feel the same and beat him to confessing, you've always been braver of the two of you, anyway.

He'll wait.

For now, he's willing to give parts of himself that you want to take.

Jungkook's fingers squeeze in between your bodies, and it reaches your clit. Two fingers aggressively rub the hood of your clit while his thumb softly flicks at the nub. In a matter of seconds, you squirt. And Jungkook can't wait to drive you home and do it all over again.

-

>> Page 4

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-

>> Part 3

Lights Out, Words Gone

[yoongi x f!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

Lights Out, Words Spill

[yoongi x f!reader] [1k+ smut; friends to lovers; part 2 of Lights Out, Words Gone]

This is for the lovelies who made sure to comment and let me know how much they loved reading LOWG—Thank you so much! Also, a quick note, I revised the first part a bit. It's still the same story but with better wording?, I guess. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as the first part!

-

You never thought you'd cross the line between best friends and lovers. But to be fair, you didn't think you would fall in love with your best friend either.

Despite how likely and predictable movies make it seem to be.

Another thing that movies get wrong is how easygoing and blissful the aftermath would be when, in truth, it's anything but easy. Sure, you already know each other like the back of your hands, but being together together, there are expectations, and suddenly, you don't know how to act around Yoongi.

"Stop squirming," Yoongi mumbles, his voice still laden with sleep. "Sorry," you whisper, "actually can you…" your voice trails off, body squirming away from Yoongi's arms.

Blinking awake, Yoongi raises his head as you get out of his bed. "Something wrong?"

Your escape to the bathroom stalled; you turn towards him, "No, everything's fine. I'm gonna take a shower," you lie.

Yoongi sits up. "Great! I'll join you."

"What?" You stutter. "Why? Why would you… you can't come." Your hands make quick work to push him back to his bed.

"You're acting like I haven't seen you naked before," he teases. "But fine, if you're not comfortable showering together yet, I'll stay here." Yoongi sits back on the bed and smiles at you.

Then with a last quip, "Like a good boy."

You roll your eyes and make sure he hears the click of the lock.

Only then do you let your knees buckle.

Fuck Min Yoongi.

-

Overthinking in the shower, you decided you had to talk with Yoongi. As elated as you are that he feels the same, you needed the affirmation that it was not drunk words or an attempt to get back at you for giving him the cold shoulder. Not that you think he would be that petty, but still, you needed assurance.

So, here you both are, sitting across from each other.

"Y/N, if I was vague last night," he starts, "then let me make it clear to you now: I like hearing you snore,"

You scowl, mouth ready to spit a rebuttal.

"Because it means you're in bed next to me. I like holding your hand and cramming in tiny bar restrooms with you when you get drunk so I can keep you safe. And I like that you still worry over me when it's my turn to get shitfaced drunk because then you're coming home with me. There are many things I like about you, some of which you may or may not like about yourself, but all of those accumulated over time, and well, here we are."

You're stunned. What do you say after that? Sure, you wanted to know his feelings for you, but you did not expect Min Yoongi to say something like THAT.

You look at Yoongi and realize he's wearing his heart on his sleeve.

This is him, learning your language so he makes sure you understand and believe that he loves you.

"That was," you gulp. "That was a good speech."

Yoongi looks scandalized. "A good speech? I bare my feelings to you, and you give me a pat on the back."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to respond."

"How about telling me what you love about me, too, hmm?" He's now using his old man voice. It usually makes you laugh, but now it sounds like you're being reproached by an elderly.

You laugh in disbelief. "It won't be as long," you lie. And it fuels the fire. You're full-on bickering now. Pointless arguments are thrown around the room, but nothing is loaded with malice. "Ya! You even said it was fucked up to fall in love with me," Yoongi pouts.

You're quick to defend yourself, "That's not what I said at all. Why are you twisting my words? And what about you? You haven't even told me you love me."

Another lie, but there's something you want to get out of him.

"I just did."

"But you didn't say the words 'I love you'." You playfully sulk and exaggerate a pout on your lips.

At this, he shuts up. But before you can celebrate over getting the last word, Yoongi looks at you intently and mumbles, "I love you."

Oh. What.

Did he really...

"What did you say?"

"I said I love you, Y/N," the last four words still came out garbled.

You bask in the moment. Etch how his lips looked when the words left his mouth. You smile at him. You'll take it.

Truth is, the three words are overrated, and by the time Yoongi wrapped up his proclamation of love to you, you believed that the love that each of you had for each other is pure.

You walk closer to a blushing Yoongi. "I love you, Yoongi." And you seal your words with a kiss.

Kissing Yoongi throws you into bliss. His mouth moves in sync with yours; a hint of tangerine hits your tongue as you swipe at his lips.

You'll never forget how he tastes now.

He moans as you nip and pull his lips before breaking away.

"That's how it is, huh." He stares you down. With one swooping motion, Yoongi grabs your hips to lift you up and then sits you on the table.

Ghosting his lips on yours, "Gotta return the favor. Scream red if you want me to stop."

Not waiting for a response, Yoongi kneels and slots himself between your legs.

"Uhm, Yoongi," You're pulling at him, voice tense. He raises his eyebrow to question you. "I haven't..." you trail off as you gesture at your lower half.

"Y/N, it's me."

Your mouth remains parted, brain lagging, searching for a reason why you're suddenly embarrassed in front of the man with whom you've shared laughs over countless sexual encounters.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you and holds your hand. "It's okay if you're not comfortable." He circles his thumb on your palm.

It's Yoongi, you remind yourself. It's not the sleazy frat boys you slept with in college or the shallow men you've dated who only wanted to go down on you if you suck them off first, only to say they're tired after.

"I want this, Yoongi."

That's all you needed to say.

He swiftly pulls down your pants along with your underwear, and you want to joke that he could probably make a Guinness world record on how fast he stripped you, but you hold your tongue.

Already aroused the moment you got a taste of him, Yoongi easily slides his finger inside you. "Shit," you gasp.

"Remember, red to stop," Yoongi reminds you.

This time, he awaits your confirmation, and so you nod. He adds another finger inside you, and eager to pleasure you, Yoongi nips at your thighs. The sting of his bites drives you further into pleasure. You look at him and lock eyes. His fingers quicken their pace plunging inside your pussy.

"Yoongi, I'm close," you exclaim. As a response, he licks at your dripping arousal and makes a big gesture to show how your juice quenched his thirst.

You'll let embarrassment catch up with you later. For now, you've never felt pleasure consume you this intensely. You're pushing Yoongi's head to your cunt. You want more and more and more.

More of this bliss, more of Yoongi.

You want more of him, from him. It's selfish, you know, but you would gladly give him the entirety of you in return if he'll have you.

With his unrelenting finger-fucking and sucking, you reach your climax.

Yoongi rises to his feet and kisses you. "I love you, Y/N."

His lips still taste of tangerine.

-