Come As You Are

Come As You Are

[contortionist!jimin x reader; taehyung x reader] [2k+ smut, yandere, ‼️ strong language and dark themes]

Enter if you dare, but beware of the man who bends over backward to blur the line between his delusion and reality.

A/N: This will be a two-part fic. I was listening to FACE all day, and when Face-off played, this idea just popped up, and well, here we are. Happy reading!

-

You enter the carnival, giggling and vibrating with excitement beside Taehyung. Despite the faded and worn-out tents propped on the field, you're still welcomed with warm bright lights and cheery chatters. The dry summer air was masked with the aroma of savory butter popcorn and sweet cotton candies. You pull at your friend's arm toward the hypnotizing swirling pastels.

"You want one?"

You excitedly nod at him and he laughs. "Get me the Strawberry one, please." Your hands still clung to his arm, stealing all the warmth as the evening approached with its cooler air.

You glance around the area, and your heart swells. It's been a while since you've visited a carnival. All around, you see pastel-painted rides spin and hear fortune tellers yell with promises of glimpses into the future and barkers inviting everyone to enter their booth.

Looking around the merriment, you get pulled and transfixed to a tent decored with big, bold letters, the word "Come As You Are" spelled out in neon yellow lights. Unlike the other tents, there seemed to be fewer people in line. With an inexplicable curiosity, you feel drawn to the tent—your senses zone in on the dark entrance. Your right foot steps forward and your hands detach from your friend's arms.

"Here." A bright pink bear-shaped cotton candy is thrust in front of you, breaking you out of what seems to be a trance. Landing back to your senses, you grin at Taehyung, followed by a kiss on his cheek as thanks.

"Hey, we should check what's in there," your finger points to where the neon light glimmers.

Taehyung hums, neck craning to look at the shabby tent. "Doesn't look much fun," he pouts. "Let's get on all the rides first, then come back to it before heading home."

With your mouth busy with the soft treat, you only nod in reply. Oblivious to the eyes following you as you walk further away from him with another man.

-

You and Taehyung arrive at your floor, and with a harsh push, the exit door opens. A loud bang resonates in the dim hallway and you break out in laughter with the man carrying you. You will definitely get another warning from the front desk for being too noisy. But fuck it. You're happy.

With his broad hands spread on the back of your thighs, Taehyung still carries you on his back as he walks toward your door. A playful grin on his face and an even more playful banter spilled from his mouth.

"Okay, you can put me down here," you giggle and untangle your legs from his waist. You rummage through your bag for your keys, fingers anxiously fumbling through the mess of coins and tissues over time.

"Shit," you grunt in frustration, followed by another curse. "Did I drop my keys? Tae, could you check the stairs, please." You crouch and pour out the contents of your bag. Still, no keys were in sight.

"What would you do without me?" You look up at a nonchalant Taehyung leaning on your door, a copy of your key in his hand. Your mouth parts in shock.

"You couldn't have told me you kept a copy of my key before I made a mess here!" You playfully glare at the man above you as he opens your door. You aggressively pick up your stuff on the smelly carpeted floor with huffs and your fingers make contact with a textured paper with concentric circles. Thinking nothing of it, you shove the paper back inside your bag along with receipts.

Finally entering the comforts of your home, you remember how full your heart has been since tonight. You gaze at the man standing in the middle of your kitchen. If you weren't too smitten with him, you would have beaten his ass for eating all of your snacks, just like old times.

Oh, the old times.

"Why are you just standing there?" Taehyung asks, keeping you from reminiscing what once was.

You sneer at him before plopping to the couch. Your mind wanders to the carnival, suddenly remembering you missed stopping by the tent you saw earlier. A sliver of relief fought its way inside you, and you couldn't understand why. Puzzled by your sudden emotion, you decide not to ponder on it and rather focus on the playing scene on the screen. Leave it to your friend to choose a film to wrap up the night. Of course, he would play a horror film.

Taehyung sits beside you a minute later, and you bask in his presence—using each jump scare and booming sound as a reason to move closer to Taehyung's arms, allowing his arms to engulf you.

A graphic sex scene pops up on the screen, and you straighten up. You weren't a prude, but having Taehyung beside you as the scene gets more lewd each second—slapping skins and pornographic moans play on the speaker, the tension in the room thickens. Your bodies are now centimeters apart on the couch, the gap filled with unspoken desires that hang heavy in the air.

From your peripheral view, you see Taehyung move uncomfortably. Following his movements, you catch his hand move to his crotch and adjust himself.

Oh, god.

Did he just? Is he?

Your thoughts run wild, wandering to the forbidden locked ideas you keep buried in your mind. Suddenly, you feel hot, and the room feels hotter. Kicking off the draped blanket over your legs, you belatedly realize you were wearing a skimpy skirt.

Taehyung's eyes follow the movement and snort. Without letting a full minute pass, his hands land on your thigh, caressing upwards to cup your cunt. "Tae," you warn, and yet the word comes out in a sultry tone as if encouraging him to do more.

Because truth be told, you do want more.

He closes the space between you with a searing kiss, tongue pushing past your closed lips. The movie playing on the screen is long forgotten, as his finger on your cunt demands your full attention.

With every shared breath and tender peck at your lips is Taehyung's whispered confession; each dainty finger he gently pushes past your folds is his unspoken desire.

And all you can do is respond in the same language.

You pull at Taehyung's waistband to shove your other hand and grab his cock. Taking his grunt as a response, your hands go lower to fondle his balls. "Wanna taste you," you drool, and your mouth remains open, already ready and anticipating to swallow your friend's dick.

But Taehyung shakes his head, his thumb smudging the lipstick that remained on your lips. "Not today," he breathes. "Today, you give me your pussy." He pulls you by the waist and mounts you on his lap. You lift your skirt higher and unbutton your blouse, freeing your tits. "Fucking hello." His hands were quick to abandon your hips to cup your breasts.

Taking control, you stroke Taehyung to get him fully erect before eagerly sinking down on him. His hands pause from playing with your tits to throw his head back and thrust his cock, bottoming out.

You both let a minute pass—just feeling each other. Eyes glisten with unsaid words that will never leave your mouth. Instead, Taehyung thrusts upwards as you meet him halfway. The intense slamming of your thighs harmonizes with the pornographic noise you and Taehyung make.

While anyone would say you're both exaggerating or perhaps putting on a show for the other, that wasn't the case. You would gladly confess how Taehyung's cock splits your pussy open in the most toe-curling, gratifying, pleasurable way. And Taehyung would say the same about your tight cunt. Or perhaps, it's the longing and deep love you have that intensifies the sex.

Either way, you always managed to fulfill each other, bringing the other to a euphoric bliss and always sealing it with a sloppy kiss.

Your bodies remain tangled under the blankets; you soon feel the exhaustion catch up to you, and with Taehyung's comforting scent circling you, your eyes flutter. Your beauty sleep beckons you to give in.

Yet, in the hazy transition between staying awake and dreaming, the fine line where you are rendered susceptible, a sudden thought creeps into your consciousness, insisting to be acted upon.

"We should go back to the carnival tomorrow," you murmur. Your friend beside you remains tranquil. Even Taehyung himself isn't immune to the oncoming sleep. And so, he only hums in agreement, his chest vibrating through your cheek.

"He's waiting for me," you mumble.

No one but the night air hearing you.

As you both fall deeper into slumber and the movie credits roll, you remain unaware of the man loitering outside your building—waiting and hating every second that ticked by without you in his arms.

"I'll see you soon, love," he whispers back into the night.

-

Your weekdays pass in a blur. It was like you were puppeteered with how clueless you were on how your week went by. You only feel grounded and yourself again when you receive a text from Taehyung confirming tonight's plan to head to the carnival.

Giddy like a school girl seeing her crush, you rushed to leave your office as the clock hit five. The fair opened at 7pm, which meant you had, at most, an hour to freshen up. You briefly questioned yourself on the sudden need to doll up, not knowing where this feeling came from. Sure, you were attracted to Taehyung, but you never felt the need to do something other than be yourself.

Holding yourself back from overthinking. You ready for the night ahead. You wouldn't normally wear white on a night out to the fair, being that it was impractical with all the mess you could bump into, but your hands mindlessly pulled out a blouse as white as a wedding veil from your closet.

-

"We're going to the booth you wanted to go in first," Taehyung shows you the ticket in his hands as he leads you both toward the entrance. The bright "Come As You Are" flickers, and you shudder as you feel a chill run down your spine.

"Are you cold?" Not waiting for a reply, Taehyung sheds his jacket and hangs it around your shoulders. You enter the tent, and the chill doubles, and yet there is a welcoming aura that seems to greet you. You properly wear Taehyung's jacket and zip it up and the owner of the clothing smugly smiles at you.

You're holding hands as you make your way to your chairs. And as soon as you're seated, the show immediately starts, as if it only waited for you to settle.

The curtains part to reveal a stage illuminated with a spotlight. You look around the audience and a sinister vibe washes over you. Everyone was still and hushed. Something felt off. Your nerves tingle in unease, and your gut tells you to leave. Moving closer to Taehyung to whisper in his ear, a fanfare booms in the speakers, startling you both.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our very own Mr Fantastic, Jimin!

The contortionist emerged, his lithe form moving nimbly across the platform, each movement an eerie dance of his contorted body. But you weren’t drawn to his impressive acrobatics like everyone was. Instead, your eyes were locked with his—dark and piercing. It was like you were both in a chilling embrace in your own way. His gaze dares you to look away, but he knows you can't.

Eyes on me, love.

As Jimin bends and twists his body into impossible shapes, his purple suit stretches beautifully around his limbs, and his gaze remains fixated on you. Unwavering and intense. You were hypnotized. It felt like Jimin was reaching out to you with his own language. 

Focus on me.

Soon enough, the audience breaks into loud applause that echoes through the tent. You break free of his gaze and look at Taehyung. Your friend holds amusement and awe in his eyes, clapping earnestly along with the audience. Amidst the cheers, you hear a hushed voice,

“Come to me now.”

You flinch at the sound. It was so soft and so near, it felt like the person next to you whispered in your ear. You look around, and when you turn towards the stage, you see Jimin already staring at you. Smirking.

-

>> Page 2

Orbiting: pt.3,5°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.4k filler, it was supposed to be a drabble, but oh well; fwb to lovers; less plot, more smut, but basically, this is how Jungkook and Y/N came to their fwb agreement; slightly drunk sex, unprotected sex but irl plz don't be silly and wrap his willy; not proofread, heh.

-

You didn’t expect your night to end up like this.

Thursdays were yours and Jungkook's torturous days. Waking up at 4 a.m. and every second, minute, and hour that followed was spent practicing on the ice—you nailing your skating routines and Jungkook running through hockey plays. Some days, you practice on different ice rinks, each on opposite ends of the town, the other days, like today, you share the big dome rink close to your apartment.

By tradition, Thursday nights with Jungkook are spent letting out steam—here is what you do as follows: 1. Rant about how hectic the day was 2. Eat an unhealthy amount of junk and sweets 3. Share a bottle of soju, or two, or more while a movie plays in the background. When the day has you beat, ideally, Jungkook makes you his infamous highball drink, and in return, you cook him extra strips of samgyupsal. A win-win.

But tonight, it seems you and Jungkook have explored a new way to let off steam.

What started out as a night full of frustrated rants turned into frantic rutting against your best friend's thigh.

You remember watching a rom-com film, and a soft porn scene came on the screen, and your inebriated brain struggled to filter your thoughts that they just spilled out, “If you weren't here, I might have touched myself over that.” Followed by downing a shot as if your words hadn't short-circuited Jungkook's own brain and went straight to his dick.

“Gguk,” you struggle to speak, lips caught between Jungkook's teeth as he playfully bites and pulls.

He's become a little more cheeky. But you wouldn't deny how seeing this side of him makes you yearn for him. Here you are, wrapped around each other's arms, but you want him closer. He's so close, yet so far. This is uncharted territory, restricted even. And you can reason that you're too far gone to just stop and cockblock yourself, but the truth is, you're being selfish. You want Jungkook. You want him all to yourself.

You lean your forehead against his, the close proximity has you feeling how Jungkook steals your breath; he breathes you in as you breathe out. You lower your eyes to look at his parted mouth, and you smirk. His lips are swollen and stained with the color of your lipstick.

“Make me feel good, please,” you scan his face, from the mole on his chin to his eyes, and pull the most seductive look you knew worked on guys.

At your beck and call, Jungkook crawls down on your body, stops at your crotch, and noses at your pussy. His hunger grows as you take over his senses—his sight focused on your arching back as he touches every skin his hands never caressed until now, and the taste of your arousal with the ripe smell of your pheromones flood him.

“Mmm, so sweet,” he hums, “I love it.”

You’ve never felt fiercely desired. You want to believe that this is more than lust. But before you can overthink and float away, Jungkook brings you back to the ground.

He doesn't bother to remove your panties. In fact, today, Jungkook discovered he has a thing for lacy underwear. Or maybe it was just having you under him, so responsive and alluring. He eagerly lays his tongue wide on your clit and laps like a thirsty kitten, the rough texture of the lace intensifies the pleasure.

With each pant and whine of Jungkook's name that leaves your mouth, his tongue dives deeper and harder inside you. The sounds you make are music to his ears that he doesn't want to stop. The call of his name grows pitchier by the second. Before you can warn him, you reach orgasm in strong spurts and the sight has Jungkook almost cumming as well.

“Shit, Y/N,” he exhales, “That was so hot, baby.”

Your body acknowledges the pet name before your brain can overthink it. You reach for Jungkook's dick, tongue wetting your lips, ready to take him, but he stops you.

“I'm close,” he shyly admits, “And if I'm cumming, I want it to be from your pussy.”

Hand still wrapped around his leaking cock, you keep stroking as you guide him to your cunt. Soft squelches are heard as you rub his tip to your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans, “Stop teasing.” He removes your enclosed palm around his dick and intertwines your hand with his as he briskly pushes it to the bed.

A moan is pulled out of you as he plunges himself inside you. He eases in so easily, but there's a burning stretch that satisfies you as Jungkook pushes his cock further. Like magnets, your legs are hooked around his waist as soon as he bottoms out.

“Shit,” you both curse. You wipe at the accumulating sweat on his forehead. His bedroom eyes chase your eyes, and when you lock gazes, it's only then that Jungkook pulls out his cock and then plunges back into your wet walls with a hip roll. The bed squeaks as he thrusts into your pussy. Breaths are once again exchanged until Jungkook feels his climax coming; he kisses you roughly, tongue and all, and releases himself.

-

You're awakened with hot and heavy air blown on your neck. Turning around with a groan, your sight lands on a sleeping Jungkook, his mouth parted as snores leave his lips.

The events of last night catch up to you and you harshly sit up from the realization. The sudden jerking of blankets wakes Jungkook. It takes him a moment to re-orient himself where he is and you see it on his face when realization hits him.

“Morning,” he greets, “So, last night was wild, huh?”

You're stunned. “Is that all you have to say?”

No, it's not, Jungkook thinks. In fact, much like you, he's panicking internally. Last night, you got carried away and went over the line. But he knows that if he mirrors your reaction, there's no saving your friendship. He's considering if he could take this moment to confess, but judging how you're pacing the room now, he thinks now is not the time. He just might lose you for good only because his dick did the thinking last night. He knows how you think, Jungkook admitting how he feels now might be misconstrued as a last resort than an honest profession of love.

“Uhh, I'm not gonna lie, Y/N, that was one of the best sex I've had in a long time.” Correction, it was THE best sex he's had ever. It was with you.

“Are you really okay with what happened?” At least now you sat on the bed. Jungkook feels the chill of the morning and he thinks it's easier to pull your body for warmth than pick up his clothes across your room.

But your needs come first. And what you need right now is reassuring words to quash whatever roaming destructive thoughts you have running wild in that pretty head of yours.

“Y/N, if you're uncomfortable, we can forget about it. I mean, was it so bad for you?” The last question came out as a jest to ease your nerves and it seemed to have worked.

A snort leaves your nose. “No. It felt... good.” Too good, you think.

“Yah! Just good?” Jungkook uses this chance to pull at the duvet, but your grip is unrelenting, so you topple over his chest, giggling.

You roll your eyes. “Fine, it was one of the best sex I've had, too.”

“Just think of it as us helping each other release our... frustrations.”

You grimace. “Classy.”

Jungkook chuckles. Your grip on the blanket eases and he slips inside the comforter for warmth.

“You know,” you trail off, waiting for him to look at you. “I don't mind, uhm... I mean, with the competition coming close and you know, uhm, frustrations pile up... I think it's good if we can help each other more than just this one time?”

Jungkook knows what you're asking, but at the same time, he also doesn't know what you're asking.

“You want like a friends with benefits thing?” The last word came out hoarse from his mouth.

“Only if you're comfortable,” you were quick to assure him. Of course, Jungkook would love to have a repeat of last night, but he's not sure if agreeing with this setup will push him into the friendzone or if it will finally let you see him differently. Still, he agrees.

-

introverted kitty ♡

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

Orbiting: pt.3,5°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.4k filler, it was supposed to be a drabble, but oh well; fwb to lovers; less plot, more smut, but basically, this is how Jungkook and Y/N came to their fwb agreement; slightly drunk sex, unprotected sex but irl plz don't be silly and wrap his willy; not proofread, heh.

-

You didn’t expect your night to end up like this.

Thursdays were yours and Jungkook's torturous days. Waking up at 4 a.m. and every second, minute, and hour that followed was spent practicing on the ice—you nailing your skating routines and Jungkook running through hockey plays. Some days, you practice on different ice rinks, each on opposite ends of the town, the other days, like today, you share the big dome rink close to your apartment.

By tradition, Thursday nights with Jungkook are spent letting out steam—here is what you do as follows: 1. Rant about how hectic the day was 2. Eat an unhealthy amount of junk and sweets 3. Share a bottle of soju, or two, or more while a movie plays in the background. When the day has you beat, ideally, Jungkook makes you his infamous highball drink, and in return, you cook him extra strips of samgyupsal. A win-win.

But tonight, it seems you and Jungkook have explored a new way to let off steam.

What started out as a night full of frustrated rants turned into frantic rutting against your best friend's thigh.

You remember watching a rom-com film, and a soft porn scene came on the screen, and your inebriated brain struggled to filter your thoughts that they just spilled out, “If you weren't here, I might have touched myself over that.” Followed by downing a shot as if your words hadn't short-circuited Jungkook's own brain and went straight to his dick.

“Gguk,” you struggle to speak, lips caught between Jungkook's teeth as he playfully bites and pulls.

He's become a little more cheeky. But you wouldn't deny how seeing this side of him makes you yearn for him. Here you are, wrapped around each other's arms, but you want him closer. He's so close, yet so far. This is uncharted territory, restricted even. And you can reason that you're too far gone to just stop and cockblock yourself, but the truth is, you're being selfish. You want Jungkook. You want him all to yourself.

You lean your forehead against his, the close proximity has you feeling how Jungkook steals your breath; he breathes you in as you breathe out. You lower your eyes to look at his parted mouth, and you smirk. His lips are swollen and stained with the color of your lipstick.

“Make me feel good, please,” you scan his face, from the mole on his chin to his eyes, and pull the most seductive look you knew worked on guys.

At your beck and call, Jungkook crawls down on your body, stops at your crotch, and noses at your pussy. His hunger grows as you take over his senses—his sight focused on your arching back as he touches every skin his hands never caressed until now, and the taste of your arousal with the ripe smell of your pheromones flood him.

“Mmm, so sweet,” he hums, “I love it.”

You’ve never felt fiercely desired. You want to believe that this is more than lust. But before you can overthink and float away, Jungkook brings you back to the ground.

He doesn't bother to remove your panties. In fact, today, Jungkook discovered he has a thing for lacy underwear. Or maybe it was just having you under him, so responsive and alluring. He eagerly lays his tongue wide on your clit and laps like a thirsty kitten, the rough texture of the lace intensifies the pleasure.

With each pant and whine of Jungkook's name that leaves your mouth, his tongue dives deeper and harder inside you. The sounds you make are music to his ears that he doesn't want to stop. The call of his name grows pitchier by the second. Before you can warn him, you reach orgasm in strong spurts and the sight has Jungkook almost cumming as well.

“Shit, Y/N,” he exhales, “That was so hot, baby.”

Your body acknowledges the pet name before your brain can overthink it. You reach for Jungkook's dick, tongue wetting your lips, ready to take him, but he stops you.

“I'm close,” he shyly admits, “And if I'm cumming, I want it to be from your pussy.”

Hand still wrapped around his leaking cock, you keep stroking as you guide him to your cunt. Soft squelches are heard as you rub his tip to your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans, “Stop teasing.” He removes your enclosed palm around his dick and intertwines your hand with his as he briskly pushes it to the bed.

A moan is pulled out of you as he plunges himself inside you. He eases in so easily, but there's a burning stretch that satisfies you as Jungkook pushes his cock further. Like magnets, your legs are hooked around his waist as soon as he bottoms out.

“Shit,” you both curse. You wipe at the accumulating sweat on his forehead. His bedroom eyes chase your eyes, and when you lock gazes, it's only then that Jungkook pulls out his cock and then plunges back into your wet walls with a hip roll. The bed squeaks as he thrusts into your pussy. Breaths are once again exchanged until Jungkook feels his climax coming; he kisses you roughly, tongue and all, and releases himself.

-

You're awakened with hot and heavy air blown on your neck. Turning around with a groan, your sight lands on a sleeping Jungkook, his mouth parted as snores leave his lips.

The events of last night catch up to you and you harshly sit up from the realization. The sudden jerking of blankets wakes Jungkook. It takes him a moment to re-orient himself where he is and you see it on his face when realization hits him.

“Morning,” he greets, “So, last night was wild, huh?”

You're stunned. “Is that all you have to say?”

No, it's not, Jungkook thinks. In fact, much like you, he's panicking internally. Last night, you got carried away and went over the line. But he knows that if he mirrors your reaction, there's no saving your friendship. He's considering if he could take this moment to confess, but judging how you're pacing the room now, he thinks now is not the time. He just might lose you for good only because his dick did the thinking last night. He knows how you think, Jungkook admitting how he feels now might be misconstrued as a last resort than an honest profession of love.

“Uhh, I'm not gonna lie, Y/N, that was one of the best sex I've had in a long time.” Correction, it was THE best sex he's had ever. It was with you.

“Are you really okay with what happened?” At least now you sat on the bed. Jungkook feels the chill of the morning and he thinks it's easier to pull your body for warmth than pick up his clothes across your room.

But your needs come first. And what you need right now is reassuring words to quash whatever roaming destructive thoughts you have running wild in that pretty head of yours.

“Y/N, if you're uncomfortable, we can forget about it. I mean, was it so bad for you?” The last question came out as a jest to ease your nerves and it seemed to have worked.

A snort leaves your nose. “No. It felt... good.” Too good, you think.

“Yah! Just good?” Jungkook uses this chance to pull at the duvet, but your grip is unrelenting, so you topple over his chest, giggling.

You roll your eyes. “Fine, it was one of the best sex I've had, too.”

“Just think of it as us helping each other release our... frustrations.”

You grimace. “Classy.”

Jungkook chuckles. Your grip on the blanket eases and he slips inside the comforter for warmth.

“You know,” you trail off, waiting for him to look at you. “I don't mind, uhm... I mean, with the competition coming close and you know, uhm, frustrations pile up... I think it's good if we can help each other more than just this one time?”

Jungkook knows what you're asking, but at the same time, he also doesn't know what you're asking.

“You want like a friends with benefits thing?” The last word came out hoarse from his mouth.

“Only if you're comfortable,” you were quick to assure him. Of course, Jungkook would love to have a repeat of last night, but he's not sure if agreeing with this setup will push him into the friendzone or if it will finally let you see him differently. Still, he agrees.

-

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."

-

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