Cue, She | KSJ

Cue, She | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Rating: 13+, (use of offensive language)

Genre: Romance, Meetcute, Idol!AU

Triggers: nothing except offensive language, cheating, Angel’s ex boyfriend and ex best friend are both deprecable — and, according to Seokjin, ugly.

A/N: hello, this is how Seokjin met Angel. Not much to say except I’m close to burning out and my goal is to get an update of Natural Connection and Sugar&Spice up next. Thank you for coming to my formal public apologies, Goodbye.

Also, this piece was edited by the one and only Mars, @joheunsaram. It is a pleasure to kill time with you (and to discuss all my plans which my readers won’t get access to because I’m gonna break their hearts LOL BYE)

Here’s my masterlist and here’s me leaving you to read peacefully. Enjoy 💜✨

Your brain froze. You didn't know how that happened, it had just happened. You were crying, sitting at the foot of a staircase, trying to save yourself from the wave of melancholia that was washing over you.

You were drowning, falling, and it wouldn’t stop.

How stupid life is.

Truly.

Why did you have to find out something so vile through a dumb picture on a useless social platform? The person you had loved for years and a friend you had trusted like yourself getting engaged, showing off how stupidly beautiful it was to be in love — completely foregoing the small detail that you had loved them both and both had betrayed you.

You just sat there, feeling useless and forgotten, crying your heart out in ways you hadn’t in over a year.

“It’s my meal? Yes?” A voice came from a floor lower down. Or higher up. It echoed together with a squeaky laugh. You would have called it irony if you weren’t so miserable. And then a door smashed. Footsteps.

Silence. “Oh.”

You lifted your head from your knees, dabbing at your face with your palms. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you okay?” The lean man in front of you knelt down, looking into your eyes with a funny expression, his head curiously tilted to the side in perplexity, as if he were trying to understand a puppy — or rather mimicking it.

His hair was a soft auburn, something delicate and lively.

And damn, he was handsome.

“I’m okay, thank you.” You stood up, your ankle wobbling dangerously as you tipped forward, almost falling. He simply offered you his arm, helping you catch yourself as the sole of your shoe slipped over the edge of the step.

“Careful. What’s your name?” He asked, voice gentle.

You introduced yourself briefly, stuttering a little as you blushed all over, so embarrassed by your clumsiness.

“Okay, let's focus on putting one foot in front of the other, ____.” He smiled so warmly, his lips so adorable as they shaped into a playful expression. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and sniffled. As your eyes recovered from being two open fountains, you recognised something familiar in him. “Oh god. I'm sorry I bothered you, I'm not a stalker I promise, I was just delivering jewels for a photoshoot. I'm not following you or anything. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I'm so sorry.”

Seokjin shook his palms right in front of him. “It's okay, don't worry. So, why are you crying alone in a staircase?”

You looked away. It was too raw to talk about it with an international superstar — still, he sat beside the spot where you'd sat, opening his lunch bag and getting ready.

“My ex is getting married. To the girl he cheated on me with.”

“That ugly ass.” Seokjin searched for the sauce inside the bag. He found an extra pair of chopsticks and offered them to you, insisting that you took them. “Was he handsome?”

You thought about your ex. Even though he had been charming, all his beauty had disappeared from your eyes the moment you found out what he did to you. “Maybe he had been, when we were still— when I was younger. More stupid.”

Seokjin hummed, forcing you to eat a dumpling as he spoke. “Did he call you?”

You laughed. It was bitter and cruel. “I saw it from his profile.”

Seokjin turned towards you, wide eyed. “Really? You know what? Good riddance. Don’t bother with people like him.”

You nodded. “We broke up a year ago. It’s hard because they met because of me. I really conjured my own demise.”

Seokjin hummed. “That really sucks. Dumpling?”

You confirmed, showing him the picture before filling your mouth.

“His loss. You’re prettier than this one. Probably smarter too since you got rid of that prick.”

He made you laugh. The sound surprised him, it was crystalline, like the sound of wind bells outside of temples. It shook something inside him.

“I don't know.”

Seokjin looked at you, he really did. He drank in every detail, as if he was studying you.

You were really pretty in a way that reminded him of white collared shirts and little pearl earrings and cherry lip balm. And the more he stared, the more he couldn't stop looking, even as your hamster cheeks filled with food while you munched on a dumpling. “What?” you managed to ask through your full mouth.

He had his little quokka smile on next. “Do you wanna be friends?”

You placed a hand before your mouth, trying not to spill your food as you chuckled. “You're a busy person. A famous one too. Why would you hang out with someone like me?”

He shrugged. Chewed. Stared into the void. Why would he? “I'm bored. You lost a friend. You could use a new one. I don't have that many myself.” He meditated over his words. “Do you play video games?”

This time you managed to laugh, your mouth being empty. “I do.”

“Then let's play videogames one of these days. I'm free this Friday.” He was very convincing. Very sure of himself too.

“Are you for real?” You were incredulous.

“There's a lovely pc-bang two streets down. We could hang out there.” He shrugged.

You looked around, trying to find someone to confirm the fact that he was asking you to hang out. You were still alone in the staircase. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “If you want to, of course. Just hang out. I don’t have many people who can hang out with me.”

He was probably trying to soften you up so you would pity him. “I’ll give you my number. You can call me when you’re free,” you conceded. You already knew he wouldn’t call. He’s too busy for his own good.

Still, he seemed to spark up as he quickly extracted his phone and looked at you expectantly. “Yes?”

You gave him your number, the procedure painstakingly slow as he typed like an old man. He was doing it thoughtfully, mostly because he wanted to find excuses to finish his meal with you and let your face unbloat a little after the crying.

“What’s your favourite type of snacks? For gaming.” Seokjin looked at you. He seemed to be typing that too.

You chuckled and stood up. “I like ice cream mochi. And strawberry Pepero. And peach tea.” You collected yourself.

Seokjin frowned a little. Were you leaving already? “You sure you don’t wanna eat some more?”

You shook your hands in front of you. “No, really. Thank you, though. I’ll owe you dumplings forever.”

“You can pay for dumplings this Friday!” Seokjin seemed to joke — he was dead serious.

You couldn’t seem to stop giggling. He was so endeared by it, so happy that he’d managed to distract you from bawling your eyes out. “We’ll see. Goodbye, Kim Seokjin.”

“See you this Friday,” he hollered before you exited the staircase, the heavy door slamming behind you.

The only trace of meeting you were the used chopsticks left on the step, on a paper towel. Seokjin stared at them, confused. He had been completely knocked down. He felt like he’d watched a major disaster happen.

He felt shocked. He didn’t know what to do.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asked. He sat down beside Seokjin and did a little perplexed expression at the extra chopsticks. “Who ate?”

Seokjin shook his head. “An angel.”

Hoseok stared into the void, a little taken aback at his hyung’s reply. He stayed like that for a couple seconds, then shrugged, grabbed the chopsticks and got himself a dumpling.

It had been a long day and Seokjin was rather exhausted, still, after the shower, he decided he might as well hope you had given him your actual number. Opening his kakao, he searched for your name.

There you were.

Might as well send you a reminder, at least to reassure you about him actually meaning to see you again.

You seemed like such a nice person. And he did want to be your friend — you had lost so much and you had seemed so lost when he found you. He felt like he had to make you feel better. He knew that his need to be a knight in shining armour for you was absolutely useless and superficial. Maybe, after all, you didn’t want a saviour at all.

He shrugged it off. It was your choice, you would turn him down, eventually.

| Hi, it’s seokjin. We met in the staircase. I wanted to send you the address for Friday. What do you say, will you be free after 10pm?

You were fresh out the shower when your phone vibrated on your nightstand twice.

It was an unknown number.

You had to blink twice when you saw the content. Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.

The address to a pc-bang.

A formal request about your favourite snacks while gaming.

And — oh god was that…?

He had sent you a picture of himself. It was a closeup of his face, mostly his eye, his strong eyebrow, the corner of his mouth and his fingers making his signature crooked v-sign.

You grabbed your Smash Bros case, covering half your face with it before taking a selca and sending it to him.

|Can you beat me at this one?

After five seconds, he was typing.

|I can try. Don’t make me ask about snacks again.

You spent almost an hour exchanging screenshots of snacks and drinks that you like eating while gaming, discussing pros and cons as if you were going to spend millions of won on them.

Before you could realise, you were already getting used to speaking to him as if he had been your friend for a lifetime.

Yoongi, what is it about him that makes him just comfort personified? Seriously, just looking at him, or listening to his songs and words is like getting a really good hug from someone you love. I always describe him as my emotional support boy to other people, but I can’t quite pinpoint what it is about him specifically that is just so… soothing and uplifting. Any insight?

Oof. If I could expertly figure it out, maybe I could clone him.

Mostly kidding.

Truthfully, I think most of us (speaking as an American and looking at western culture/society) are used to seeing men, fictional or not, shown as competent in only one way: cocky, rich, physically impressive, and emotionally cold. In the area of musicians, most male artists sing about romantic love both good and bad, usually just the physical of it.

I don’t find that competent or appealing at all. Yoongi is self assured (even when he goes shy 🥺), competent in things both handy and domestic, as well as being an incredible performer, producer and songwriter. His lyrics (and all of the guys’) aren’t only about optimistic love or lost love, or even sex (Hong Kong anyone?). They’re about friendship, life, mental struggles, their fans, their artistic struggles, just authenticity in a very shallow world.

And then there’s how he treats his members; the pure caring and love he shows them in his own way. Cooking for them, holding hands, smiling when they’re happy. How can that not be comforting?

Liking BTS has taught me something about ppl in general. We don’t want a closed off, western only masculine man, who only does ‘masculine’ things.

We want honesty, open communication, and kindness. Compassion and thoughtfulness. The reason BTS is so attractive (among talent and good looks) is because they show us the healthiest forms of relationships (any kind) through they way they treat each other.

Whew, I kinda went a bit over and beyond your ask, didn’t I? I don’t know if I have any insight on why min yoongi is comfort in human form. I suspect, he’s not actual real but a creation of all ppl wishing for a man of pure talent, dry sense of humor, utmost compassion, and an adorable nose. We wished so hard that we manifested Min Yoongi.

Credit to the creator.

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex 

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Thank you @readyplayerhobi​ for my super cute banner and @johobi​ for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.  

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi.  Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.  

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath.  Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.  

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.  

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall.  You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.  

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem.  We won, it’s ok.”  She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.  

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup.  She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.  

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds.  He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly  - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room.   She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it.  By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things.  A two-year relationship over, just like that. 

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned.  Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.  

And boy, does she know it.  You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.  

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet.  She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.”  Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.  

Keep reading

We need to respect others opinions. You don't have to love everything an artist releases. Someone saying that a song is not their favorite or that they prefer a different song is not an attack on the artist it is someone's opinion. I think PTD is a fun song. It has good vibes but it's not going to be the song I go to when I have a bad day. I'm not going to go at someone's throat if they say they think it's the best BTS has released because they're entitled to have their own opinions about the song.

Some people get so blinded by "protecting" BTS that they immediately attack anyone that says anything that doesn't sound like absolute praise for the song. All I can say is real ARMY don't fight other ARMY. Just have fun and love the music you want to listen to. Don't compromise your health or happiness for a song.

ok but do you actually like ptd???

why are yall trying so hard to categorize each fan based on their personal opinion and personal tastes like youre trying to weed out traitors during a time of war? art is meant to be many things – a comfort, a good time, a discussion, an experience, a heartbreak, an understanding, a friend, an adversity…….not everything fits neatly into a box and not everyone’s connection and experience will be the same. you may connect with some art more or less than others. thats fine. thats normal. drink some water and take a nap

release (Yoongi x reader)

Source of the picture

Summary: Just two people who realize that between them is more than just the benefits.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Genre: nonidol!AU, fwb, friends to lovers, fluffy smut

Warnings: 18+, some dirty words

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

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There's something uncomfortably raw about those moments when realization hits and you're trying to adjust.

Moments where you wish you could turn back time and do things differently. Moments when you have not yet arrived at gratitude for the lesson, but are still swimming in regret. That's what you're at while you're on your way to Yoongi. You feel sore, vulnerable, small. Still, you walk with long strides, shoulders broad, powerful steps, no one would suspect that you are just pretending. Your black clothes are your armour, your boots could easily take you through war. No one bothers you when you look like that. It probably also helps that you are taller than average.

You knock swiftly before you type in the pin code and enter Yoongi’s apartment. You haven’t asked if he is home before deciding you need him to distract you from your relentless mind. You don’t have to ask him any more.

You shut his door and he is already in the hallway, leaning at the wall, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You couldn’t wait two more days, huh?” he teases, voice deeper than usual. He wears black, just as you. That’s what brought you together back then. Being the only people dressed like that on a party filled with buckets of colour.

He waits until you got rid of your shoes and long coat, before he strolls towards you.

He is just a fingerbreadth taller than you, so you pretty much stand eye to eye, when he reaches you. His hands sneak around your waist, but it’s you that leans forward and bite his lower lip lightly. You always envied him for a mouth like that. It is a stark contrast to his character, perhaps nature's intention to balance its sharpness with some softness. You are crazy about that mouth of his, no matter where it meets your body. You bite him again, still playfully, but he moans quietly, pulling you closer. Biting turns into sucking, his tongue dipping against your lips, begging for entry. You let him in and the sensation pulls a moan from your throat as well. It doesn’t take much from him to light your fire, his hands and mouth are enough. Speaking of hands, big hot palms have worked their way up to your breasts, kneading the flesh devotedly. He's as crazy about your tits as you are about his lips.

He has you topless in no time and your hands are in his hair, running through the silky strands. His hair is a gift from nature too, some woman would kill for hair like that. And don't even get started on his eyelashes. Come to think of it, there are some more things about him, people would probably kill for. But right now, all of that belongs to you and is putty in your hands. He has you backed against the wall, playing you skillfully, but he responds to your hands just as much, sighing and whispering, groaning under his breath. Your lips are swollen by now but you can’t get enough of him, tongue dancing with his, diving deep, nibbling and teasing.

“God, I could kiss your forever,” he sighs, nibbling along your jaw towards your neck, where he sucks a hickey before you can react. It’s the first time he marks you and for some reason it makes you angry. Your groping gets a little rougher and his shirt joins yours on the floor, fingernails scraping on the newly exposed skin. He is much paler than you and you love the contrast when your hands are on him. He also blushes much more than you and you are determined to get him to do just that.

“No foreplay today, just fucking,” you whisper into his ear, before lowering your lips to one of his nipples, making him moan. But he does not blush, but grips tighter, scrapes and kneads.

“I can do that,” he brags smugly, and you get even more impatient. “Where do you want it? Right here, against the wall? Or do you prefer the bed? The dresser in the living room works fine too. Perfect height.” While he recounts the options, his hands have opened the buttons of your jeans and pushed them down your thighs, brushing the front of your panties. You take his hand and put it where you want him the most and he chuckles lowly, slipping under the fabric to where you are hot and ready.

“So desperate for me, hm?”

You just hum in response, busy nibbling at his bare shoulders, while your hands grab his butt, which is still way too covered for your liking. You slide your hands past his sweatpants and boxers and cover his butt cheeks again, worshiping the firm flesh.

“Rough day?”

Yoongi knows you show up uninvited mostly when you feel like crap. He is used to make you feel better by making you come several times in a row. Somehow sex is what works best for you, and he doesn’t offer anything else, you aren’t close like that.

Sometimes he wonders if close is even the right word to describe anything between you. You never met without sleeping with each other so far and usually your ways part shortly afterwards. Even if he intended to just talk, he found himself between your legs sooner or later. Your body was magnetic and why fight it when you obviously have no problem with the way things are. Still sometimes Yoongi wishes for more, a promise or agreement, a certainty, something beyond being just loose fuck buddies.

You never talked about being exclusive, but he is, he stopped sleeping with others the first time he slept with you, back then after you met at that party.

Now you are melting under his touches, but he can tell it’s not enough today, you are fidgety, longing for more.

He also didn’t fail to notice that you ignored his question, and he repeats it, earning an indifferent growl from you.

You are still in the hallway, both naked by now, your clothes covering the floor. Two of his long fingers are knuckles deep inside you, while you are pumping his length, moans filling the air.

“I would like to propose a change of place once again,” Yoongi pants and you consider for a second before dragging him some steps into the living room, towards the dresser, where you hop up without further ado and spread your legs for him. His fingers have only left you for one or two breaths, but you miss him already, putting his hand back to your soaking heat. He stands in front of you, staring, eyes big and dark, pupils blown, lips parted, his hair brushing his cheeks. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

All you can think of is finally feeling him thrust into you, until your mind goes blank. He is most reliable when it comes to fuck your brains out and since you met him, you never looked at another man again. The first time with him was literally cathartic, you remember laying next to him afterwards, spent and completely out of your mind, so satisfied like you’ve never been before.

The second time he blew you away was when he immediately replied to your text, agreeing to meet again the next day. You came over to his apartment, and it took barely half an hour before he had you under him on the couch, pounding into you fiercely, after eating you out expertly for what felt like an eternity.

“Yoongi please, “ you whine desperately as he continues to stand motionless between your knees, eyes roaming your face. The sound snaps him out of his trance, and he captures your lips with his again, cupping your breasts, lining his hip up with yours.

When it turned out that your encounters with Yoongi were regular, you gifted yourself an IUD because it meant you didn't have to keep condoms handy all the time. When you told him about it, something in his eyes flickered but it was gone so quickly, you couldn’t make out what it was and before you could ask, he was all over you, ridding you of all thoughts. That day it almost felt like making love. He was gentler than usual, taking you in missionary, looking down at you with hooded eyes, until you melted under him with a deep groan of relief and relaxation

That was months ago. And it still feels different since then. Closer.

Yoongi’s dick entering you achingly slowly interrupts your thoughts. A guttural moan escapes you and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, while letting you get used to the fullness.

It doesn’t take long until you need more friction, and you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him against you firmly.

“Didn't you say you just want to be fucked, “ he murmurs and you nod sighing, eyes closed in pleasure. He picks up pace, thrusting steadily and you welcome him willingly, trying to meet him halfway. You cling to him, spur him on, begging for more and he grunts as his thrusts push the dresser against the wall over and over again. He soon starts to sweat, his body in your arms turning slippery and you grab tighter, now more or less wrapped around him instead of sitting on the dresser. He pushes inside you, met by your moans and curses and you praise him, endless strings of soft words, that tell him how good he makes you feel. His hand is up on the back of your neck, holds on to your waist and all you notice is how close he is, the slickness and heat and the muscles playing underneath your hands, holding onto him for dear life.

“Feeling good?“ Yoongi wants to make sure, out of breath, a low growl next to your ear, sending shivers through your tingling body. You are so close already, just a little bit-

“Yes, so good, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pant, sounding so desperate, Yoongi’s heart bursts, causing him to lose his rhythm shortly.

And then the wave crashes and you tumble over the edge, legs cramping around his hips, uttering curses under your breaths, while he helps you through your high.

“Gosh, I love to see you coming apart like that, “ Yoongi grumbles, sucking another mark on your neck. You don’t mind, you feel wonderfully empty and peaceful, and you float in his arms, while he holds you tight.

“One more, baby?”

“Later,” you reply lazily, and he chuckles, changing towards a different pace to reach his own peak, but you stop him soon as an idea forms in your mind.

“What?”

“Can I be on top for a while? I want to feel like I’m the one who makes you come.”

He leans away from you to meet your eyes, curiosity and fondness all over his face. He steps back and you hop down from the dresser, knees still weak from the ride and you take his hand and pull him along to the bedroom, where you kiss him before pushing him gently on the bed, straddling him quickly. You aren’t on top very often, usually you let him do his thing, enjoy being handled, fucked, satisfied properly but today you want to return the favor.

You sink down on his slick throbbing dick, carefully watching him while you do it, eager to please him. He groans quietly, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut. You ride him slowly, feeling another climax approaching as he gasps and squirms beneath you. It’s different like this, you in charge of his pleasure and it moves you weirdly to see him trust you with his body. You lean down, brushing your lips against his and he moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth, searching for yours. You forget about moving your hips while you kiss, humming and sighing, enjoying the sensation on your sore skin. You love his taste, you tell him quietly and he opens his eyes quickly, staring up at you, irises black due to the dimness in his bedroom. His lashes wet with sweat, perfectly curved, framing his eyes, sucking in your attention. You stare back and time stops.

“Hi,” you whisper inaudibly, and his eyes smile back at you.

“Hi,” he replies quietly, swallowing hard.

You break into a smile yourself, mirroring his, your hips still motionless around his thickness.

He reaches up, cupping your cheeks with his delicate hands, pulling you down for a soft kiss, stirring a million butterflies inside your belly. A disbelieving laugh finds its way out of you, and you lean back, your eyes never leaving Yoongi’s.

His smile widens at that, turning into a smug grin, setting stars into the night sky that are his eyes.

“Don’t fight it baby,” he says grinning, hands falling to your hips.

“Don’t behave as if you know what’s going on in my head, lover boy,” you counter, only half joking.

“As for the rest of the time, I totally agree with you, but I think at this moment I have a pretty good idea. And I don’t think it’s your head where things happen right now, either.”

You laugh again, unable to help it. You are dizzy with feelings. You are filled to the brim with them. And the way Yoongi stares at you, reveals that he knows he's right. And he doesn't mind at all.

His dick twitches inside you, as if it wants to remind you of its existence. You slowly move up and sink down again, caressing it with your moist walls.

“You feel so damn good, “ Yoongi sighs, shutting his eyes briefly, enjoying the pleasure. You wonder if he is flooded with feelings as much as you are right now, but you don't have to think about it for long, because he keeps talking, pressed and low winded, making your core clench around him with lust.

"Please don't leave today when we're done," he pleads, "please stay the night, I don't want you to go home today."

Realizing that his words might be misleading, he wets his lips, adding "I don't mean today in the sense of just today. I mean it in general. Don't go away. Don't disappear again. Let me be a part of your life. A part of you."

“How can you be such a poet right now, “ you breathe, riding him without haste, despite the coil inside you getting tighter.

He snorts softly, not able to say much more, as he is quickly getting closer to coming with each of your movements. His fingernails sink into the flesh of your hips, probably bruising you, but you don’t notice.

You come first, clenching your teeth to suppress a moan, circling your hips, pressing yourself down on him with a grunt. Yoongi watches you coming apart once more before sitting up and turning you with one swift motion until he has you under him again, thrusting into you much faster, striving for his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long for him to lose himself in you. He is all over the place, nibbling at your lips, puffing shaky exhales against your mouth, before sucking a third mark on your neck and sinking his teeth into your shoulder. And then he bursts, cursing, whining, bucking into you. You feel his cum deep and hot inside you and you pull him closer, holding him tight, suddenly keen on feeling as much of him as possible, as if he could just fly away now that he is finished. But he doesn’t. He carefully sinks down on you, crawls deeper into your arms, pressing his perfect lips to your temple, hot air fanning your skin.

Both of you are quiet, while you come down from your highs. After a while he fumbles around and drags a blanket over you. He is still inside you, when he props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with smiling eyes.

“If you tried to fuck the romantic thoughts out of me, you failed,” he informs you dryly.

You snort, feelings still buzzing inside you. The past minutes have started something that you aren’t able to stop. If you're honest, it didn't just start a few minutes ago. It was buried inside you for a while already, but you ignored it.

It took the awful moment of realization this morning to tear down the walls around your heart that normally shield you from your feelings. It took a moment of raw vulnerability for your feelings to crawl to the surface and spread until they were too big to ever be stuffed back into the dark again.

Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off you, while you get lost in your thoughts. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand, waiting patiently.

“It’s a little mean to have this talk while you are still inside and on top of me, don’t you think?” you try, but he is not having it.

“I figure it’s all that works to make you stay for the time being.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it is.” He grins down at you, fingertips trailing randomly over your face. Eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips.

“Well then, I’ll stay,” you huff, turning his grin into a full smile, exposing all his tiny teeth.

You didn’t notice his dick has gotten hard again, until he moves slightly, and is rubbing against the sweet spot inside you.

Your eyes grow big, and he raises an eyebrow at you. He rolls his hips a second time, making it hard for your to breathe properly.

“So, I take it we're going to have sex all night?"

Yoongi chuckles and your heart jumps. “I don't think so, but I'm in for a second round.” He places a quick kiss on your lips. "Don't think you're off the hook, baby, we still have a lot to talk about."

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, already squirming under his touches. “I can’t believe you are one for talking.”

“I am. Sometimes. Definitely when it comes to you. Prepare for questions like what’s your favorite colour and shit.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, all I know about you is how to make you sigh my name.” As if to prove his point, he pulls out and reaches down between your bodies, slipping his fingers through your folds, circling your clit. You gasp, before releasing a whimper, begging him for more.

“See?”

“I hate you,” you press out but he only laughs.

“No, you don’t. Now be a good girl and come for me again, we got plenty of time tonight and I’m determined to use every second of it.”

Again

In which you and Namjoon both have feelings for each other and finally do something about it.

→ Pairing: idol!Namjoon x reader

→ word count: idk, it’s short

→ warnings/tags: SFW, slice of life, friends to lovers

→ a/n: a drabble because I’m so proud of the boys for their UN trip and everything they’ve accomplished, also because Namjoon in his sweatshirt at the airport made me want to be his friend that he’s secretly in love with lol

“I want to kiss you.”

The words tumble out before you can stop them, diving one by one into the dishwater below. Your hands pause around a plate as you wait with bated breathe for a response. 

Namjoon stands beside you, holding his dirty plate out to run under the water. He’s also frozen for a moment, staring at you as if wondering if he really heard what you said. 

“Why?”

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