Devil's Playthings | Myg

devil's playthings | myg

⤅ SUMMARY | Yoongi has been widowed for over 2 years now—long past the time of mourning—and has made no move to remarry. Despite all the eligible maidens trying to catch the rugged duke’s eye, he’s stayed stubbornly idle in his search for a wife. For a man at court, especially at Yoongi’s standing, remarrying was essential and highly expected; even though the man had heirs and his lineage was assured, a wife was a political move, and a highly coveted one. None of this slipped the young princess’ mind, her sharp eyes on the much older man. But Yoongi should be careful—“for Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.”

⤅ RATE | 18+

⤅ PAIRING | (dilf)duke!yoongi × princess!reader

⤅ GENRE | royalty au, magic au, forbidden relationship

⤅ SIN | sloth (for the ✥ 7 Deadly Sins collab ✥)

⤅ WARNINGS | age gap, use of sex pollen, mentions of m!masturbation, dirty talk, slight (slight) degradation, marking, spitting, titty fuck, facial, deep throat, oral both!receiving, sixty nine, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, breeding kink/breeding, spanking, squirting, hair pulling, clit slapping, cervix contact, overstimulation

⤅ WC | 9.3k

⤅ A/N | whoo it's finally here!! No one clown me for making even a royalty au a dilf fic 🤡 I also want to shout out @sunshinekims and @kithtaehyung for lending me their lovely names for this fic <3 and of course @sugasbabiie , who’s enthusiasm fueled me from the start <3 hope you guys enjoy! +

playlist + drabble

“Look who just arrived.”

Your back was turned to the door, where your lady-in-waiting had just discreetly gestured to. You caught the sly giggles of the women who had noticed the figure who had just entered the great hall. Hands held up to their faces to mask their shy smiles at just the sight of the man, eyes darting around the circle to meet another’s, going through the same predicament. The same thoughts running through every woman’s mind. You turned your head slightly, though you knew who it was before you even caught a glimpse of his squared shoulders. This notorious reaction always preceded him, the aura of a room changing whenever he stepped foot in it. The men suddenly became more concerned with getting into his good graces than the ladies they were courting, and the ladies more concerned with getting into something else.

His hair caught your attention first. He’d let it grow out since you’d last seen him, shaping into a framing mullet, with his bangs swooped to the side. The ends tickled his neck, threatening to grow past his shoulders. The suit he wore fit his frame perfectly, hinting at the taut muscles he hid under his prim shirt. It was embroidered down the side, encircling his bicep, and trailing down towards his pants. His hands glinted with every move, bedazzled with the copious amount of rings he always wore. He was a fan of wearing his wealth, the family emblem shining proudly on his pinky ring. His other fingers were covered in expensive jewels weaved into intricate designs, things he could have only gotten imported. Though, the way he rubbed his hands together unconsciously as he entered the lively room was nonchalant in nature, as if the jewels were a boring addition, ignoring all the eyes that turned to admire his figure.

“I heard his son got engaged.” Lady Hoyeon pointedly stated, with a very telling glance.

A gasp. “Before the duke?”

“You all know what he’s like. Is it any surprise that his son will be married before him?”

A wave of agreement rippled through the little circle you were standing in. You all knew the duke, and his notorious reputation. His wife had died many years ago, but the man still refused to remarry. As a favorite of the king, and a man of extremely high status and influence, he had long been the most eligible bachelor of the kingdom. That is, only if he was eligible. The duke had expertly avoided any and all attempts towards an engagement, even those maneuvered by the king himself. He politely declined, stating an interest in managing his estate and focusing on serving his country as a reason. The men around him had started out teasing him, joking about whether he could manage anything before getting someone to see to his business. But Yoongi took all the jokes in stride, silently taking the other men’s jabs with a humored expression. With time, people stopped pestering the seasoned duke, assuming he found more comfort in the occasional dalliances that paid companionship could offer. They left the man to his business, rumors of wild nights heard through his chamber doors spreading through the servants and the nobility overtaking any other gossip about the duke’s reluctance to marry.

But still, marriage was a must. At least at royal court. All the companionship in the world couldn’t replace the giant social hole. And it was becoming unseemly for a man reaching his age to grow older without a partner, without someone to stand at his side at important events, someone to parade on his arm as a compliment to his stature and position. And now, his own son was getting married before him. It was causing a shock, to say the least.

“Well, what did you expect?” Lady Sophie lowered the glass of wine she’d been sipping. “The man lost his wife years ago. Probably doesn’t even know how to love again.”

“What’s love got to do with it?” Lady Kiana snorted, “All he needs is someone to drape on his arm during the day, and someone to keep his bed warm at night.”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Lady Irma muttered from behind her glass, making you all fall into a fit of laughter.

“I doubt your husband would take kindly to that, Irma,” Sophie chuckled.

“Oh, he’d be just fine. He’s been trying to woo the duke with a new estate he purchased off the riverbank, anyway. I think he’s got a bit of a crush on him, if I’m completely honest.” Irma glanced over at the man in question, who had approached Yoongi with a bow and an outstretched hand, that was visually trembling from here. “He’d happily share his wife if it earned him the duke’s favor. And hey, I’ll take it.”

Taehyung was rapidly speaking, from what you could tell, holding Yoongi’s attention for as long as he could. As an older member of the privy council, you know that Yoongi had taken Taehyung under his wing when he had first joined. The young man put Yoongi on a pedestal, never failing to seek out his advice or earn his compliments.

Though Yoongi was quickly scouted out by his fellow senior council member, Lord Seokjin, waving over to him to invite him to where he and Lord Namjoon were drinking with the head mage, Jung Hoseok. With a quick goodbye, he left Taehyung’s side and joined his friends, leaving Taehyung to sulk back into his own circle, earning him a clap on the back from Lord Jimin with a teasing punch from mage Jungkook.

“Are they announcing it tonight? Mini Min and his new bride-to-be?” Kiana asked, looking over at the large feast set up for the event. “At the winter festival, no less.”

“The girl is from the eastern province. Magic and wizardry are highly considered there when planning nuptials.” Irma pointed out. “I’m sure this is about to be the wedding of her dreams, what, with all the celebrations for the patron saint of magic and all.”

“What about you, yn?” Lady Ho Yeon turned the attention on you. “Didn’t you have a brief… dalliance with the duke?” The dramatic way she emphasized "dalliance" with a teasing glint in her eye made the other ladies fall into giggles, earning a curt shove from you. You raised your glass to your mouth to hide the smile you couldn’t help forming.

“And at your age, too. Not to mention your status, your highness.” Irma straightened up and raised her eyebrow very noble-like, to demonstrate. “No wonder you two are trying to keep hush.”

“Well, of course. Those young bucks weren’t going to keep her busy for long.” Kiana added. You rolled your eyes at their insinuations. Yes, you were a princess. But a spoiled one. And that didn’t end at your bedroom doors. Sue you, you liked sex!

You tried hard to hide the grin threatening to expose your emotions, but failed miserably, confirming their words and giving way to the squealing fit that followed.

“Come on, now you must share the details,” Sophie prodded. “You can’t deprive us of that experience.”

“Publically, I have no idea what you all are on about.” You announced, earning you teasing shoves from the ladies around you. “Privately, however…”

The other ladies leaned in with perked ears as you spoke quietly, “Privately, let’s just say I spent two days with him, and needed two more to recuperate.” Irma let out a loud squeal as Sophie faked a fainting. You shh’d them with a laugh, trying to hold back the heat rushing to your face at the thought of those nights. Those animalistic nights you’d spent with the rugged man. One weekend wasn’t nearly enough.

“Our baby’s all grown up,” Kiana wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “So when’s the wedding?”

“What wedding?” You shrugged. “Last I checked, he was still the Duke.” You tried to school your face back into impassiveness, but the rise of heat to your face wouldn’t let you.

“Yn. You can’t seriously tell me that’s all it was. We’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Ho Yeon’s words were matched with nods from your other ladies.

“Shoot, the other day I thought the room was going to erupt with the way you two were eyeing each other.” Irma fanned her face dramatically.

“I was there!” Sophie corroborated excitedly, ignoring your protest. “I really thought they were going to do it right there, on the ballroom floor.”

“Anyways!” Your voice rose above their giggling and teasing. “You all know how my father would feel about it.” You pouted. “He would never marry off his darling daughter to a man who’s lived at least two of my lives.”

“If only the king knew what the duke has already done to his darling daughter,” Irma snorted, earning gasps from the other ladies as they clapped their hands over their mouths in an attempt to hide their laughter as you shoved her in retaliation while battling to keep a indignant face.

“Not to mention, hasn’t the lord chancellor’s son already shown an interest in you?” Sophie pointed out. Once she’d recovered from doubling over in laughter, of course.

“Of course, a young suitor your age. I’m sure it’ll be an advantageous match.” Kiana added. There was a hum of agreement in the circle. You nodded absent-mindedly, but you had no interest in such a marriage. Your eyes sought out another. And what the princess wants, the princess gets.

“Hey,” Lady Ryen suddenly emerged with a pout, “My husband ditched me for the most eligible bachelor, or whatever. They’ll be announcing their own engagement any day now, the way they’re attached at the hip.”

“Here, take my seat.” You quickly stood up, “And my drink. You’ll need it to survive those two’s flirting all night.” She took the cup from your hand gratefully, seamlessly joining in on the conversation in your place.

Your eyes scanned the crowded room, entertainment meeting your gaze at every turn. The fire breathers in the corner, the elves throwing up a display of magic, the oompa loompas performing with a song. You finally found what you were looking for, beelining for the large table set up against the wall.

“So what was I supposed to do? I told her, I said ‘My lady, that is not my gold trim, but I will take credit for it.’” A loud chorus of laughter followed Hoseok’s words, the mage’s story sending his acquaintances into a riot.

“Now why would you do her like that, ‘Seok?” Namjoon shook his head. “She was clearly into you.” There was an old tradition of an unmarried woman wearing a handkerchief on her belt as a sign of her eligible status. Any suitor that was interested would have to retrieve that handkerchief, typically through a dance, or discreetly, and line it with a gold trim to present to her at the next event. If the maiden accepted the courtship, she would wear the gold trimmed handkerchief on her waist. If not, she would tie a new blank handkerchief on as a signal that she was still available.

And Hoseok had taken full advantage. “What poor, shy bloke did you rob that maiden of.” Seokjin laughed. “Spent his last dollar on that gold trim, and at the end of the night, she ended up in your bed.”

The mage threw his arms up and shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Not accept her invitation?” Sending the men into another chorus of laughter.

“Well I don’t approve,” Namjoon announced, trying to hide his slight smile behind his glass as he took a sip.

“Well, naturally. Gold trims do bring up a painful memory.” Seokjin snickered. A quick glare from Namjoon, and he burst out into a full on laugh, as did the others. Namjoon couldn’t deny it, though. He bowed his head in remembrance.

“I’ll never forget it. Why you thought hiding the handkerchief in Sophie’s cake was a good idea is beyond me.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Poor girl spent the whole day worrying over it, looking everywhere because she was expecting you to give it to her. Damn near on the verge of tying a new one to her waist. And the whole day, Joon was just grinning like an idiot. Didn’t realize she’d be marrying a fool till she stuck her fork into her slice, and pulled it out like it was a magic trick.” Seokjin chuckled. Namjoon sunk into his seat, a pout on his face.

“The look she gave you. She was so irritated, but you could tell she was trying not to show it. And Joon just looked back with the biggest smile on his face.” Hoseok chimed in. “How you managed to salvage that fumble, I’ll never know.”

“She said it was cute,” Namjoon grumbled, sending the men into a loud teasing frenzy about she was just sparing your feelings and she just felt bad for a tall lanky bloke like you. Let you walk past their chambers at night, though. You’ll know that’s not the case.

A gloved hand suddenly appeared in front of Yoongi’s face holding an intricate, folded white card. “My lord, I was told to deliver this to you.”

Yoongi took the small note from the attendant, dismissing him with a nod of his head. The front of the notecard was intricate in design, but had no indication of who the note was from. He skeptically opened it, resulting in a handkerchief falling from inside and into his lap. He heard loud whoops and teasing from the circle around him, knowing his friends were surely not going to let this go anytime soon. But Yoongi was too busy examining the fabric, the owner dawning on him as he saw your signature rose embroidered into its side.

His eyes quickly flitted to the note, your neat handwriting swooping through the page in calligraphic curves and designs. He didn’t miss the hearts above the “i”s. Another trademark of yours. The content of the note itself, however, had him shaking his head as he fought off a smile.

“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings.”

“Yoongi’s got a secret admirer,” Hoseok’s loud voice caught his attention, a shove distracting his best friend.

“What else is new?” Seokjin shook his head with a smile as he sipped his drink. “Every week, a different maiden throws her handkerchief at his feet. And what does our most eligible bachelor do?”

“Step around it.” Namjoon answered, a loud guffaw of laughter following his words. He exchanged high-fives with Seokjin at their joint wit, enjoying teasing their stoic friend.

Yoongi shook his head with a small smile on his face, letting their words run down his back like water. His mind was preoccupied at the moment, anyway. If it wasn’t your coquettish eyes catching his gaze from across the room, or the clandestine wink you'd send when he’d bow in front of his king, the princess right by her father’s side. It’s sending him your handkerchief, and making your intentions starkly clear. You knew what you wanted. And you made sure he knew it, too. The fiery young princess who wouldn’t let him forget her.

Yoongi’s body was on fire.

He felt as though his skin was crawling with an itch he couldn’t scratch, a taunting in the form of heat and sweat ripping through his body. He tore the buttons off of his suit as he stumbled back to his quarters, dying to do anything to relieve himself. His once perfectly styled hair was falling in threads over his forehead, his skin shining with the thin layer of sweat coating it.

He didn’t know what had come over him. One second, he was sitting in the banquet hall, enjoying his wine and warding off his friends’ teases. The next, Yoongi had started to sweat like a pig, and his skin had felt like a thousand fire ants were marching on it. To make matters worse, a problem… arose in his pants. The tightening of his crotch area making him restless, exacerbating his already problematic symptoms. That’s when he excused himself, turning in early because he wasn’t feeling well. Of course, the men didn’t believe him for a second, Hoseok’s calls of “not staying up too late” making it clear what kind of company they thought he was keeping tonight.

And honestly, with the swollen bulge in his trousers, the idea didn’t sound half bad. With each step he took towards his room, the need for either a douse of cold water or a hand down his pants seemed inevitable. He felt the need to rip his clothes off, and take care of his problem as soon as possible.

Lord, what had gotten into him? There had been no noticeable difference in the evening to cause such a change. The only thing was… the note. Was he really that affected by the young princess?? Did just the thought of you arouse such a passionate reaction in him? So much so that he had to escape the suffocating room and jolly back to his quarters, just to give himself the privacy to relieve himself while picturing you? He wouldn’t be surprised. The hold you had on him was powerful.

Yoongi never thought he’d feel so strongly for a woman again, not after his wife passed away. He was devastated for years, refusing to even look at another woman. He expected to live out the rest of his days alone, in a cold bed too big for just him. He’d accepted that fact long ago.

Until you came along.

You with your pretty eyes, and pouty lips. And getting exactly what you wanted every time. How could he resist you, when you’d bat your eyelashes so nicely? When you’d find him walking back to his room late at night, only to offer him company? How could he say no, when your giggle is all he could think about, when your voice is all he heard?

Late at night, he’d be working in his study, the candlelight his only company. But somehow, his eyes would trail over the page and retain nothing, for your face was all he could see. Your soft touch was all he could feel. Those nights, the duke was knocked off his pedestal by a young princess as he indulged in those thoughts, and became an indecent man. Gripping his aching cock in his hand, and leaning back. The already hot room getting only hotter as his soft pants got louder and louder, until he’d hiss your name and stain his priceless tunic, sweat glistening on his skin when he’d slouch in his seat, heavy pants echoing his sinful actions. How could he abstain from you?

Here’s how: you were off limits.

Not only were you the king’s daughter. The king, his superior, the man he worked for. And more importantly, the man who had the power to take off his head. But you were the king’s young daughter, only newly of marrying age. And he, well. He was your father’s age. The rumours that would spread if the people so much as heard of him courting you, let alone what else you’ve done….

Yoongi couldn’t court you in good faith, not with all those obstacles in the way. No matter how much he wanted to. Though, none of that seemed to bother you. He chuckled to himself as he remembered your stubborn nature. Lying in bed, your body pressed against his that one fateful weekend, the one weekend he let himself indulge in you, the only time he’d allowed himself to be weak. As you swore you’d convince your father. Reminding him of how advantageous it would be, him gaining a wife for social status. A princess, no less.

But there was no way you two could be together. It would never be accepted. He’d come to terms with it, after much grappling and chagrin. But he was weak in his disposition, and one soft blow from you had the strength to change his mind.

Little did he know that you knew that.

Yoongi pushed his bedroom door open with a clang, hurling himself into his room and slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbled over to the dresser, clutching it tightly for balance as he tried to regain his footing. The fire was spreading through his veins now, running through his body with a tingling sensation. Making his symptoms quite clear to him as his cock ached unbearably in his pants, begging to be let out of its tight confines.

And Yoongi wasn’t going to deny himself any longer. Now, in the privacy of his own room, he was free to rip his clothes off, relishing in the cool air that touched his hot skin. He splashed some water onto his face from his basin, dipping some over his hair as well and pushing his bangs back, shaking the water out. His heavy breaths occupied the otherwise quiet room.

In his haste, in his rush to relieve himself of the scorching heat rioting against his skin, and the boner about to pop in his pants, the otherwise sharp duke had neglected to notice a foreign presence in his quarters. Or rather, a foreign someone, perched sweetly on his sheets.

“Poor baby, you don’t look so good.”

Yoongi’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, startled. He thought he was hallucinating, another violent symptom of whatever ailment had gripped him. His mind conjuring up your picture to satisfy his upright cock. And not just any picture. You, sat on his bed, in extremely lacy undergarments that seemed to be half the length of what they were supposed to be, hiding very little from the eye. Lord, he shut his eyes, silently begging to the sky, don’t do this to him now.

You met his gaze with a nonchalant expression, almost bored. Your signature pout was painted on your face, a sign of the times. “What’s got you all hot and heavy?”

Your voice was sickly sweet, and your tone made your question seem so innocent. As if you were asking him about the weather. And not the very intentional euphemism you had actually intended. The naughty glint in your eyes only confirming it.

“Yn- you s-shouldn’t be here—,” his knuckles whitened as he gripped the table harder, trying his best to stand upright and not collapse onto his knees in front of you. But it was getting harder to fight his urges. He needed to release. And he needed to do it soon.

You watched him with your head resting in your palm, eyes following his every move. Your head cocked to the side as palmed himself through his boxers, on the one hand trying to be discreet because you were in the room. And on the other not giving a fuck, because he couldn’t help himself. You almost felt bad for his suffering. Almost.

“Did you like my note?” You ask, with an unconscious bat of your eyelashes.

Yoongi looked at you incredulously. Of course you were going to bring up your other euphemism. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings. The double meaning of your note, both referring to his sloth tendencies in taking a wife, and his reluctance to touch you. What you wanted him to do with those idle hands was very clear, as your eyes narrowed on his long fingers.

And it was very convenient that you happened to be here, in his moment of need, alluding to offering yourself up… Almost as if you knew this was going to happen to him, the note clueing him into your foresight. He looked down at his hands, then his head shot back up to look at you. Then back at his hands to confirm. The small sparkling dust was almost invisible to the eye now that he’d rubbed off most of it. But he still caught a glimpse. Confirming what he suspected.

“The note…” Yoongi’s mind raced. He reached the conclusion much faster than you expected, but what else would a genius yield? His eyes looked up at yours, dark gaze with a glimmer of pleading, “Tell me you didn’t dust the note in sex pollen, yn. And that this wasn’t your doing.”

You blinked at him innocently. But the smirk you were holding back was fighting it's way onto your face. “Oops?” You shrugged. “It must have slipped out of my hands.

Yoongi let out a monstrous groan, both from the pain in between his legs and the confirmation from your words. He couldn’t help but sink down onto his bedroom bench, his back to you. His head was thrown back and his breathy pants filled the air. Yoongi tried to resist and maintain his composure. He really did. He tried not to think about how you were sitting right behind him, almost certainly getting ready to crawl your way over to him. He tried not to think about all the ways you’d touch him and make him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

But you were making it excruciatingly difficult.

He felt your presence before he heard your voice, your breathy whisper tickling his neck as you leaned in, soft voice like a melody. “Please use me as relief, Yoongi. I’m right here.”

He turned around to look into your sincere eyes. You were on your hands and knees, waiting pretty for his answer. Your big eyes were almost pleading, begging him to use you as he deemed fit. To throw you into his sheets, and fuck you deep into the mattress. To use your body round after round as he worked the effects of the sex pollen off, taking orgasm after orgasm. As much as you’d give. Until he had worn himself out, and his cock deemed it fit. You were willing to indulge him in all those fantasies, just waiting to be covered and stuff in his seed. Reaping the rewards of your sin.

But not just that. You were asking him for more—To use you as fulfillment of his social status, as the object to break out of his indolent rut. You wanted him to take you, and make you his. In every essence of the word. You wanted him to claim you, brand you with not only his hands and marks, but with a gold trim on your handkerchief. With his family emblem shining on your finger. In front of god, in front of your father, and all others who bore witness.

He wanted it too. He wanted you in his bed every night, and to see your face first thing every morning. He wanted to make you laugh everyday just to hear your giggle, and see you smile. He wanted to shower you with expensive things, and gift you anything your heart desired. He wanted you to look at him the way you’re looking at him now. Full of trust and desire. He wanted you by his side, and to stand by yours. No matter the consequence.

Your face was within an inch of his when he’d turned to meet your gaze. The tension that those few centimeters held could be cut with a knife. He hesitated, eyes falling to your lips. Your perfect pouty lips. He decided right then and there that it was time to break out of his idle sin, and indulge in your heavenly gates.

His lips crashed into yours hard, making you moan out at the sudden lustful attack. His hand wrapped into your hair, resting at the base of your neck. Giving him the perfect leverage to pull you closer, and hold you pressed against him. Allowing him to graze your lips with his tongue, shoving his way in before you had a chance to breathe. Your soft hands brushed against his face, trailing down his neck hesitantly, looking for something to hold onto for dear life as Yoongi engulfed you. The little whimpers that fell from your lips as you ardently tried to match his fervor was like music to his ears.

He climbed over you, pushing you back to the head of the bed. He gripped your waist, impatient with your scooting, and moved you up himself. You landed with a bounce against his pillows, momentarily disconnected from his lips. Yours were already swollen, covered in his spit. The way you gnawed at it as you waited for him to reattach his mouth to yours sent blood rushing to his already hard cock. He couldn’t wait any longer, not with you looking up at him like this.

“This lacy shit is cute,” he complimented, touching the fabric with a hand. You gasped as a tearing sound ripped through the air, the once frilly lingerie wrapping your body now in shreds in Yoongi’s hand. You glared up at his cocky smirk. “But it’s in the way.”

The cool air kissed your skin, making you shudder slightly. But you didn’t notice the cold, not with Yoongi shifting and gripping his cock in his hands right in front of your face. “Tits together, sweetheart. You’ve edged me long enough.”

“Now, if you really think about it—umph!” You were in the middle of spitting out an excuse as to why his blue balls wasn’t really your fault. But Yoongi, sensing your brat tendencies, was quick to shove his dick into your mouth to shut you up.

“Don’t play with me,” he growled, tapping your cheek with a few light slaps. You looked up at him with big eyes and a full mouth, patiently waiting for his next command. Once he knew you weren’t going to act up, he slowly pulled himself out. You didn’t wait to be told after, pushing your breasts together obediently. A smile graced his face, and he nuzzled your cheek with his hand at your good behavior.

“What a good girl,” He stroked his cock a few times, looking down at your willing figure. You looked so cute, holding your tits together and looking up at him expectantly. It made him want to brand you.

A glob of spit splattered against your chest and trickled down the valley of your breasts, a slapping sound associating with the second spat that hit your chest. You looked up at the perpetrator, cocky grin plastered on his face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You look so pretty covered in my spit, princess.”

His handsome concentrated face let him get away with anything. And he knew it. He guided his aching monster of a cock, all red and bulbous, in between your breasts. He looked about ready to burst. He threw his head back with a groan as he slid into the cushioned opening you’d made for him, slick from his expectorance and creating an easy slide. He rubbed in your makeshift cocksleeve a few times, finally getting that relief he’d been burning for all night. It felt so good, he didn’t know how long he’d last. Or how slow he’d be able to go.

Your mouth was wide open for the taking, poised and ready for when Yoongi started to pick up his thrusts. Rougher and sloppier with his pace as he gripped the headboard behind you, sliding messily in between your tits and hitting your mouth. Your tongue was out, leading his cock up your chest and straight into your wet hole. Drool pooled at the side of your mouth as you kept your mouth open, but you didn’t care. Holding yourself perfectly still and available for Yoongi to use as he pleased.

He caught a glimpse of you in his haze, his orgasm building up quickly. You had your head bent down, eager to have him deeper in your mouth. He chuckled to himself before giving one hard thrust, surprising you and hitting the back of your throat. You let out a squeal at the intrusion, looking up at him with your wide eyes. Only to stick your tongue back out and beg for more.

“My pretty little cocksleeve.” He cooed, no longer capable of holding back. He was teetering on the edge of release, and your little antics weren’t helping. “Wanna be used by me so badly, hm? And princess always gets what she wants.”

You mewled at his words, your mouth full of cock as he stuffed it down your throat. You were taking small, short breaths through your nose to compensate for the lack of air, but you were starting to feel dizzy. Out of pleasure or pain, who knows?

Yoongi relented soon enough, though. Not being able to hold back any longer, he pulled his dick out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to him as he stood up to his full height on the bed above you. Head thrown back, mouth ajar, muscles flexed as he gripped the headboard, his other hand pumping himself to completion. With a loud grunt, and an intentional pump, he released his semen above you, leading to a splatter right on your face and chest. You shut your eyes as he came, but your mouth was wide open, trying to catch everything you could. You heard his sigh of relief, prompting you to then open your eyes and meet his. Just to stick your tongue out and try to taste what didn’t make it into your mouth.

“Fucking filthy,” Yoongi chuckled breathlessly. He sunk down to his knees, your body still beneath him. Watching his every move. He leaned down to engulf your figure, big arm placed next to your head as he teased a kiss, ghosting over your lips. Until you whined and pawed at his chest. Only then did he finally press his lips to yours deeply.

Despite having just released, Yoongi felt a strange blood rush to his cock yet again. Almost as though the orgasm just a second ago had never happened. He pulled away from you to look down and confirm what he suspected.

Hard as rock.

He shook his head as he cursed. He’d heard about this, how sex pollen worked. It lasted different lengths for different people. But it about looked like it’s grip wasn’t going to loosen on Yoongi anytime soon.

“Baby,” He flipped off of you, sitting upright and leaning against the headboard. His hand automatically wrapped around his cock, pumping his upright, leaking shaft. “I need you to take care of this.”

As soon as you sat up, his hand guided your head down to face his dick, his thumb swiping against your lips teasingly when you got close enough. You repositioned your body so that you were ass up, on his side, bending down to his will. You were an inch away from him as he stroked your hair, muttering encouragement under his breath.

With your tentative lick to his shaft, he let out a hiss. You slowly wrapped your small hand around him, licking up the side from the base to the top like an ice cream cone. He let out a breathless moan, shifting beneath you. His hand applied more pressure to your head, pushing your mouth towards his dick further. He was getting impatient. You should know; sex pollen escalates quickly, and doesn’t give you a moment to breath.

You looked up at him and met his gaze as you sunk down on his cock, fitting as much of him as possible in your mouth. He cursed under his breath, his face contorting into one of pleasure. You let your drool slobber over him, keeping your mouth wide open as you relaxed your throat, ready to take him deeper.

“Such a good girl, trying to take me all in one go.” He stroked the side of your cheek sweetly as you bent your head down, pushing him further down your throat until you were coughing, having to relinquish him and come up for air. Yoongi tugged your head back as you took a deep breath, making you yelp and meet his eyes. “Aw, princess, can’t you take me? You promised me so many things,” he sighed, “Guess you can’t deliver.”

Your eyes narrowed ambitiously at his sneer, whimpering at the thought of him being dissatisfied with you. In your heart of hearts, you knew Yoongi was only teasing. Pushing your buttons, pulling your strings. His eyes glinted with that mischievous streak. But you also knew Yoongi was uncharacteristically impatient right now, the sex pollen urging him to empty his balls as quickly as possible. He’d tell you anything if it got you back on his cock.

You pushed your hair out of your face as you knelt back down, taking him into your open mouth and pushing him down deep in your throat. You worked through the constriction and tears brimming in your eyes as you swallowed him down. Bobbing your head a few times, encouraged by his grunts and moans, you kept your tears back as long as you could. Only when you couldn’t take it a second longer, did you pull off of him.

Only to switch to his balls instead. You took one in your mouth as your hand worked his slick cock, licking and sucking before switching to the other ball. You moaned as you felt him thrust into your hand, his balls moving in conjunction with his hips and knocking into your mouth. You let it go with a pop, switching back to his cock. This time, opting for long strokes of your hand paired with a quick bobbing of your mouth.

“Fuck, princess, just like that.” Yoongi grunted, his hand tangled in your hair as you sucked him. Hollowing your cheeks, loud slurping noises overtook the room as you quickened your pace.

Yoongi couldn’t take it much longer, his sensitivity already heightened from his previous orgasm. And you. He watched you work hard on his cock, relegating yourself from Princess, a member of the royal family, the divine monarchy, chosen by god to rule. To a mere cockslut at his convenience. A mere whore for him to fuck and use.

“C’mere, baby.” He tapped your ass, nudging your hips over to him. You stopped your actions, confused at first. You thought you were doing something wrong. Until he pulled your legs toward him, and sunk down onto the pillow, gesturing to his mouth. You hesitantly moved one knee over him to the other side of his head, peeking under you to check if that’s what he wanted you to do. Yoongi’s grope of your ass before he pulled your hips down to meet his face gave you your answer.

You let out a moan at the first lick against your wet heat. “Fuck. You got this wet just from making me cum?” Yoongi spread your ass cheeks, fully examining your wet cunt. You whimpered in response, wiggling your hips in self-consciousness. He landed a quick spank to your clit, making you shudder. “You get off on it, being mine to use. Don’t you?”

His words shouldn’t’ve made a tingle go down your spine and send heat straight to your core. But you couldn’t argue—just the thought of the old bachelor doing whatever he wanted to you had you drenching your undergarments. Rushing to your room every night after seeing him, and dismissing your servants quickly before hiding under the covers. Moaning in his name in the confidence of night.

Yoongi didn’t waste a second, dying to quench his thirst of you. He engulfed your pussy with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your hole and sucking. Devouring your pooling cunt. His mouth was relentless, his tongue running over your folds ruthlessly as he lapped up every last drop. Your hand moved up his dick at a steady pace, but you struggled as he munched your pussy with heated fervor.

It wasn’t long before his tongue was prodding at your hole, making you squeal out as he circled our wet opening. You tried to put your mouth on him to distract yourself, moving up and down his cock swiftly, trying to establish a pace. But you had to come back up to moan as his tongue shoved its way inside, thrusting into your pussy. You clenched tightly as his lower lip brushed against your clit with each lick.

Face pressed to your cunt, you couldn’t help but grind your hips down. Earning a swift slap to your ass and a stunt of your hips. “Put your mouth back on my cock, where it belongs. Now.”

You jumped at the command. But he was right—you’d gotten too distracted with his magic tongue (and that wasn’t a result of the sex pollen, you knew…) and started to neglect your duties. You amended quickly, sinking back down on him and working him over. Like an obedient little whore.

He, on the other hand, was revelling in the choked whimpers and mewls that he was pulling from you, lapping at your folds like he was a starved man. And technically, he was. Depriving himself of you for too long, this moment was like taking a sip from the holy grail.

He pulled back to admire your mess of a pussy, tattered and soaked from his ministrations. Your hole fluttered with anticipation. He wanted to make an even bigger mess, though. Wasn’t satisfied like this just yet.

His long fingers trailed over your cunt, feeling their way around before shoving bluntly inside you. His mouth latched back onto your clit as he scissored you open on his fingers, feeling you struggle to keep your hips still. He wasn’t any different—except he wasn’t doing a thing to stop his cock from thrusting into your mouth as your hand hovered helplessly, now useless. You kept your head still, letting him hit new depths in your throat as you gagged around him.

“My perfect girl—fuck—know just what I like,” his sentences turned into loud groans as he approached his end. But he wasn’t about to let you go unscathed. His other hand joined his first one, now replacing his mouth as filthy words spewed from him, rubbing mercilessly at your clit as the other one thrust two fingers into your heat. It was getting impossible to keep your hips still, his angling of his fingers pushing you to grind down on him frantically. With a few more thrusts and stimulation of your clit, you were squirting all over his fingers, spewing your arousal as he worked you through it, drawing as much as he could. He was close to follow after you’d gone through your orgasm, but how he made you cum first after being affected by sex pollen… you would never know.

His thrusts got brutal as your hand wrapped back around his cock, waiting with an open mouth. With one hard thrust and a loud growl, he shot his semen straight past your lips, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hand had unconsciously wrapped around your head, keeping you still and making sure you took every last drop. Once he was spent, he nudged your chin back to him. You opened your mouth to show him the mess he made inside, made a show of swallowing it, and showing him it was all gone after.

“Baby, you take my seed so well.” He stroked your hair breathlessly. He was accustomed to the tingling feeling by now, the telltale sign of blood rushing back into his cock. Already ready to go again. That little display of yours didn’t help, either.

He tugged you up by your hand, settling you comfortably in his lap. He caught your lips in a searing kiss, the force pushing you back if it wasn’t for his hand resting behind your head, pushing you back into him.

He took the opportunity to flip you over, never disconnecting your lips as he crowded your body with his muscle-y one. “Mm—think you can take my cock in this tight little hole?” He brushed his fingers over your heat teasingly. You let out an indignant whine, in between kisses, nodding fervently. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in.

“So desperate—okay, okay. Relax, I’ll give it to you good, baby.” He detached himself from you for a second to line his cock up with your entrance, getting ready to push him. You let out a curse, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he entered you, stretching your walls in accommodation as he sunk into your wet heat.

“You okay?” He rubbed soothing circles on your hips as you adjusted to his full length buried at the hilt. You gave him a small nod, burying your face in his chest as he started to move again. He pulled out at a slow pace, and pushed back in a little bit harder. He gradually quickened his thrusts, moving a bit rougher and harsher each time.

Until he found his steady pace, pistoning his hips into yours unrelentingly. Your moans filled the room as you scratched at his back, legs kicking from the belligerent thrusts. His mouth had latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking marks into your skin roughly. He’d pulled your head to the side by your hair to give him more access, trailing his branding to areas that would be very visible once you’d put on your gown.

“The whole castle’s gonna know you’re mine.” He growled in between marking. “What you’ve done to me, how you’ve affected me. Everyone’s gonna know about this little stunt you pulled, princess.”

He pulled back to admire the bruises blossoming on your skin, telltale signs of his mouth. Satisfied with the art, his arm reached over your head to grip the headboard behind you, giving him more leverage to angle his hips into you. His bicep bulged above you, hovering over your face as he tightened his hand around the metal. He looked down at you to catch your awed gaze at his muscles, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“This what you wanted?” His other hand held one of your legs up, giving him a new angle to thrust his hips at. With one hard buck of his hips, he caught your attention, snapping you out of your haze. You let out a whine as your hand clutched his chest in an attempt to steady yourself. His new angle allowed him to jostle your body with each thrust, him towering over you as he delivered your reckoning. “You wanted me to get so worked up I’d fuck you into my mattress?”

You mewled in response. He wasn’t wrong, you both knew that. Shame burned your face as he spoke your intentions out loud. But deep down, you weren’t sorry at all.

“Went through so much trouble, just to get me in this position, little minx.” He grunted as his pace quickened, slapping his hips into yours. His balls hit your ass with each thrust, and loud squelching sounds came from in between your legs.

Yoongi let the headboard go to grip your face in his hand, making you look up to meet his eyes. “You wanted to be my wife so bad?” He leans down, hovering over your lips as his dark eyes maintain contact with yours. “How about bearing my kids, hm?”

You let out an incoherent noise as your hole clenched tightly around his cock. You couldn’t help yourself, or the heat that rushed straight to your core when he said those words. Your grip on his bicep tightened. Yoongi grinned at your reaction, fucking you harder. “Are you desperate for me to plant my seed inside you, have you carry my heirs?”

“Yes—yes—yes, oh—please!” You cried out, wriggling under his touch. You hated that domestic insinuation with anyone else but him. For Yoongi, you’d swell up and carry as many children as he wanted you to, revelling in the fact that that was a branding of its own. You, heavily pregnant with the duke’s children, signaling to everyone that the young princess belonged to him, and him to you. You wanted that so badly.

Yoongi cursed at your desperate pleading, taking a more tactical turn. He pulled out of you, ignoring your cries and sobs. Flipping you over onto your stomach, you let out a muffled scream as he shoved your face into his pillows, pulling your hips up behind you so that your ass was in the air. He rubbed his cock against your folds before shoving it back in. A drawn out moan left your lips as he restarted his previous brutal pace.

“Gonna fuck my kids right into you,” he groaned. “Get you nice and pregnant.” His hips slammed against yours repeatedly, hitting deeper with each thrust. You could feel him getting more determined, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix. Each plunge had him brushing against it, eventually starting to bruise it.

“Gonna parade you all around this castle.” His hand came down to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he lifted your head up. “Make sure everyone knows you’re Duke Min’s property.”

You couldn’t speak. Gasping and crying in pleasure, you couldn’t formulate a single sentence. You just let him manhandle you around, sending your body into a jolting frenzy with each thrust of his hips, his hand limiting your air supply and making you feel so good and dizzy. You were drunk off of him, willing to do whatever he asked.

Your hole clenched fiercely as you neared your end. Fluttering and leaking, the warning signs alerted Yoongi to your position. Lucky for you, he couldn’t hold back any longer anyway—not with the way you looked right now. All spread and ready to take his seed.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, in stark opposition to the lewd sounds filling the room. Your pitiful nod sent a warm feeling shooting through his heart.

His hand came down to fiddle at your clit, your battered and bruised pussy in his hands as he found the sensitive little bundle of nerves. His long fingers worked at it ardently, rubbing hard circles as the tips of his fingers brushed against your folds.

“There you go,” he talked you through as you reached your peak, continuing his feverish pace at your clit while his cock hit deep into your pussy. You spasmed and clenched tightly around him with a scream of his name, shaking and trembling as your arousal gushed out. His hand grabbed at your cunt, squeezing tightly and milking you for all you were worth. You spilled out all over his cock, completely spent and falling down limply onto the bed.

You whined out as his fingers continued to grope at your folds, overstimulating you to the point of tears. “Keep it tight, just like that.” Yoongi commanded. He wasn’t far behind you, and he wanted to come as you clenched your hole tightly, determined on drawing another orgasm out of you.

With a few more strokes, his hips were stuttering. He buried himself deep into your pussy, focused on shooting his seed as close to your womb as possible. An ungodly amount of cum shot out in ropes, coating your inner walls. His fingers continued to touch you, letting you scream out as another orgasm shook you at the same time as him. Yours drew his out, letting load after load spill out into your cunt. He let out loud growls and hisses as his balls emptied out, his powerful orgasm making him a bit unsteady, he had to hold onto your hips for balance. Or maybe that was just his age…

Once his balls were completely empty and spent, signaling the effects of the sex pollen had finally worn out, he crashed down next to you. You peeked out from the pillow your face was buried in, eyes asking for permission.

“You can relax now, baby,” he chuckled, pushing a stray hair out of your face. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, wet strands dripping as a result of his exertion. You let your hips drop, finally accommodating your screaming muscles. He pulled you into his side as soon as you did, skin pressed against one another, tangled in the sheets. Just like the last time.

Except this time, it was different.

“You meant it right?” Your small voice broke the serene silence. Yoongi looked down into your big eyes. His beautiful princess. How could he say no? How could he, in good conscious, continue to break both your hearts. He didn’t think he had it in him to resist you again. He was tired of tearing his heart apart and sewing it back together. Putting you both through this excruciating ordeal, just because of a tiny thing like social norms. In this moment, right now, as his eyes trailed your face, he made a silent vow to never deny you again, as long as he lived.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Of course, baby. I can’t live without you.”

Your eyes shut blissfully at his words. You cuddled deeper into his side, shoulders relaxing at the weight of the stress being lifted. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or what kind of riot your union would cause. All you knew was this moment, right here, as you drifted off to a peaceful rest. You, and the man you loved. And the sickly amount of his cum that was leaking from your pussy.

“You what?!”

You looped your arm around Yoongi’s indignantly, the stoic duke not daring to move a muscle. “We’re asking for your blessing to get married.”

If you thought the king was going to be shocked, you completely underestimated him. He was furious.

He rose up from his throne, marching towards the two of you with an accusatory finger. “Min Yoongi, what have you done to my naive daughter?!”

“Daddy!” You pushed your father’s hand away before it touched Yoongi, stepping in between the two. “He didn’t do anything! And I’m not naive.” You protested.

The king took a deep breath. As his youngest daughter, you were used to being in his favor. Doted on and spoiled to no end. Anything you’d ever wanted, your father would get you. Any scandal you caused, he’d take your side. This, however. Was a completely different beast on its own. “But sweetie, he—”

“He’s the one I want.” You folded your arms, pouting. “And I won’t settle for anything else, daddy.”

The king looked at you both helplessly. The whole realm under his fingertips, and yet, here he was, at the mercy of his daughter’s command. He had at least one of those things in common with Yoongi.

The king shook his head as he paced the room. Pausing once, he addressed you again. “You’re sure, sweetie? You’re sure you want to marry Duke Min?”

You nodded vivaciously, tightening your grip on your soon-to-be fiance. “I love him, daddy.”

The king shook his head again. If he could count the times he’d heard those words…

He threw his hands up in defeat. With one last shake of his head, and a resigned sigh, he announced, “Then you two have my blessing.”

You squealed and jumped into Yoongi’s arms, throwing your arms around him. He looked at you with a relieved expression as his arms circled your waist. He turned to address your father, tearing himself away. “Thank you, your highness.” He said with a bow.

“I have to go tell my friends,” you chatted excitedly. With a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, and a ‘thank you, daddy!’ you went skipping along to spread the news. Almost as if you’d just gotten a new dress.

“You know, Min,” the king started, now left alone with the rigid duke. “When I said you needed to get married, I didn’t mean to my daughter.”

“I know, your highness.”

Past the tough exterior, there was a glint of lighted-heartedness in the king’s eye as he regarded his old friend. “Take good care of her.”

“You have my word.”

And Yoongi was nothing if not a man of his word, as you, and the servants that were unfortunate enough to walk past your room, would find out later that night.

mlist | permanent taglist

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

schemin’ | myg (m) 02

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

chapter warnings: sexual tension, strong language, y/n inner dialogue, intrusive thoughts, ethically questionable stuff (yoongi suggests something unusual), minors DNI

category: series

summary: Your dream comes true when world renowned music producer and CEO of D-Town Records, Agust D, discovers you in the underground rap scene and wants to sign you to his label. It all goes well for a few months and you can’t believe you’re actually living your dream. However, things start to shift when Agust D offers to do something for you and you can’t stop thinking about it for weeks to come. Your boyfriend doesn’t like it one bit.

wordcount: 4.8k

a/n: i apologize in advance for the ending of this chapter. the song i had in my head for the mv shoot is escapism. by raye idk? + the warning ‘yoongi suggests something unusual’ is the offer mentioned in the summary !

m.list & concept video

previous | next

chapter 2: peeping tom

You inhale deeply as you approach the studio door, your heart racing with nervous excitement. You can hear the soft thumping of music coming from inside and you can see a light of what you assume to be his computer screen through the blurry glass door. You know your boss was in there, working on one of his own tracks.

You hesitate for a moment before finally pushing the door open.

He’s sitting at the mix console, his back to you, completely focused on the music. His long, dark hair tickled his neck and shoulders, and he’s wearing a black suit jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath paired with black slacks.

There’s a flutter in your stomach when you take in his imposing figure.

It dawns on you again. How lucky you are. You vividly remember the week your life changed when you signed to his record label, all those months ago. 7 months ago to be exact.

And now you were here, in his company building, everyday working your ass off to please him.

He had gifted you your own personal studio. You went from recording under the bedsheets in your room to your own professional soundproof recording studio. It made you work even harder to please him.

But Agust is insanely hard to please. He is quite scary too.

He is intimidating, strict and blunt. Time is money. He’s a very busy man. He’d tell you how it is, no sugar coating. If you don’t like it, fuck you type of attitude.

Like during the first few months you didn’t dare leave before 9PM. Whenever you asked him to review one of your harmonies of verses, he’d send it right back with blunt feedback on how to improve it.

You remembered how one time he strutted into your studio and asked you to show him one of the tracks you’d been working on for your debut album. You played the one you thought he would like the most, the one you had spent literal weeks perfecting. But his face was blank the entire time. The bastard didn’t even nod his head to the beat! When you asked him what he thought as soon as the song ended, he just gave a single nod, said it was ‘decent’ and left your studio.

Or that other time when you stood in front of his studio door, asking him how he felt about your album so far, the one he knows you were working on for hours on end everyday. Without even looking up from his phone, he told you about how there was much more work that needed to be done as he closed the door in your face.

This was one of many such instances.

It had you walking on eggshells around him, but you still had to fake your confidence. You couldn’t let Agust D think he picked the wrong person. You were the right person. The perfect person.

You haven’t interacted with him as much as you’d like to, though. As the CEO of the company, he was always drowning in work. You’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the halls.

Other than that, the few meetings you were in with him, the handful of times that you drove past his parked car in the parking lot while he was on the phone, etc.

You had also made it clear that you wanted to be independent. No managers deciding your every move. When you told Agust this, he was once again surprised with your need for control and no care for consequences.

You’d been working for him all this time but you still didn’t know anything more about him than you did 7 months ago. All you know about him is that he’s a busy, intimidating, mysterious man.

That also happened to be hot as fuck.

But that didn’t matter now. Today. Today is finally the day for you to stand up and ask what you’ve been wanting for years, you’ve been ready for years. That’s how you find yourself standing in front of GENIUS LAB.

“Boss,” you say softly as you push your head into his studio, trying to catch his attention by knocking on the door.

He turns his head and looks over his shoulder to glance at you, his mood unreadable as he turns his attention back to his computer. “What?”

Fuck. Maybe you aren’t ready.

You walk into his studio, hands trembling slightly at your sides after you close the door behind you. He isn’t really… the welcoming type. “I’ve been thinking… and I really want to shoot a music video.”

Agust slowly turns his head to look at you again with a raised eyebrow, a look of surprise on his face. He fully turns his chair to face you, showing you he’s intrigued. His thighs are wide apart as he leans into the backrest.

You try your best not to let your eyes trail down to his oh-so-inviting lap.

“Oh? Without even finishing your debut album?”

You swallow. You didn’t really think of that. Is that really how things went? It’s in moments like these that you regret declining his offer to get you a manager.

He snaps you out of your thoughts by speaking again, “Besides, what makes you think you’re ready for a music video?”

Disappointment seeps into your stomach. You had hoped he would be more supportive. “I’ve been ready for over a decade, sir. I’ve been working really hard on this album and it’s almost finished. I think dropping a visual along with my first single is a good idea.”

Agust cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “I see. And have you thought about how you’re going to pay for this music video?”

You bite your lip, embarrassment making heat rise to your cheeks. You hadn’t even thought that far ahead, asking this question was enough of a challenge as is.

Besides… isn’t it his job to pay for stuff like that anyway? Stingy bastard.

You ignore the imaginary angel on your shoulder that’s trying to keep you sane and not drool all over your boss. “I... I haven’t really thought about that yet.”

Agust shakes his head, but you could’ve sworn you caught a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips for a split second. Why did that make him smile?

Because he loves your impulsiveness.

Now it’s time to ignore that demon on your other shoulder, the one that wants nothing more than for you to pounce Agust D.

“Typical. You artists are always so focused on the creative side of things that you forget about the practicalities.”

You frown. What kind of comment is that? Your heart pulses with anger as you take a step closer. You aren’t going to back down. “I’m not just an artist, you know. I do business. I can figure out how to make this work. You signed me for a reason.”

Agust chuckles, the sound low and deep, making your insides tremble. “I know I did. You have the talent and the drive to make it in this industry.“

You can’t help but smile at one of his rare compliments. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he believes in you. “So… Does that mean I can shoot the video?”

He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on you. His intense stare sets your insides ablaze. “Yes, you can. But you need to start thinking about the logistics. Things don’t just fall out of the sky, you know.” His tongue swipes along his bottom lip before he continues, “I want you to plan a meeting with my production team to discuss the details. I’m not going to baby you throughout this.”

You grin, a rush of excitement burning in your chest and you bow your head to him. “Thank you, boss. I won’t let you down.”

He nods, waving at you dismissively as he turns back to his computer screen. You can’t help but keep the smile on your face as you exit his studio.

You can’t wait to go home and tell your boyfriend.

•••

You sling your bag onto the floor as you kick your shoes off, running into the kitchen. “I have great news!” you squeal as you see your boyfriend, Daniel, washing the dishes.

He looks at you over his shoulder before returning his attention to the soapy cutlery in his hands. “What’s up?”

“I can finally shoot my first music video!” you beam as you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from the back.

“That’s great, babe. I’m happy for you,” he hums, rinsing whatever he was just scrubbing but you can’t seem to ignore the way your heart sinks into your stomach at his lack of excitement.

Daniel was never fond of your music career. Not because he thinks you weren’t talented but because you were so stubborn. You were so blinded by your passion that he had to take you in when you were on the verge of homelessness.

You kept pursuing music, even though it wasn’t heading anywhere. Daniel was really frustrated with you at the time, but took care of you nonetheless.

You understand that he really just wants the best for you but you are now under a big record label. Your music career would take off, you’re sure of it. Well, almost sure of it.

You quietly sigh and press your lips to his shoulder blade in a quick peck before you let go of him and turn away as you head to your shared bedroom.

Why can’t he just be happy for you?

•••

About a week later, you find yourself sitting nervously at the large conference table, surrounded by Agust D’s production team. They are discussing the storyboard for the music video, and you can’t ignore the knot of anxiety in your stomach for much longer as they go over each shot and detail.

You don’t want to seem like a wimp but you really want to back out. The vision they have is way more intimate than you would have liked.

The song is deeply personal to you, about the pain and confusion you felt after getting dumped by the love of your life and falling into a pattern of self-destructive behavior.

You want the music video to reflect those emotions, but you don’t want it to be too explicit or graphic.

The creative director had suggested hiring an actor to act out intimate scenes with you, to reflect the lyrics in which you talk about going home with a stranger to forget about the pain.

Your face heats up with embarrassment at the suggestion, you know you wrote the lyrics yourself but when you’re making music it just… seems so much easier since the world isn’t chiming in at that specific moment. But with a music video, you’re baring it all out for the world to see.

The scene he’s describing is you in a bed with a man holding onto you, gently kissing your neck and roaming your body with his hands. You should speak up before they suggest anything more.

You clear your throat and speak up, “Do you think the bed scene is really necessary?” you ask the director. You glance over at Agust, hoping he would find this as outrageous as you did.

He seems to catch on to your discomfort, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he simply shrugs and says, “Sex sells.”

Your stomach sinks and your chest tightens. You know that was true, but you don’t want to compromise your artistic vision for the sake of a cheap marketing ploy.

The creative director looks slightly taken aback, but he quickly recovers. “I mean, you wrote the song, Y/N. The lyrics are telling a clear story that you want to depict visually. But if you really don’t want to, we can scrap these scenes.”

You take a deep breath and think about what the creative director had said. He’s right – the song wasn’t just about being dumped, but also about the self-destructive behavior that followed.

You had taken a stranger home, felt lost and confused, and you picked up the pen the next morning. If you really want a good music video, explaining that night visually, paired with the lyrics, this way makes the most sense.

As uncomfortable as it makes you feel, you know that these intimate scenes would make sense in the context of the song. You look back at Agust, who was watching you with his usual stoic expression. Everyone is watching you now.

You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you know that he has a good eye for what would make a successful music video. Besides, he finally said yes. You don’t want to be difficult about it. At least not for your first music video.

“Okay,” you say, finally. “I understand. Let’s do it.”

The creative director smiles and nods, relieved that they had reached a decision. They spend the rest of the meeting going over the details of the storyboard, discussing camera angles and lighting.

You try to focus on the practical aspects of the music video, but your mind keeps drifting back to the intimacy they were talking about. A bed scene in which a man was touching and holding you, kissing your neck and shoulders? Explaining this to Daniel was going to be fun.

You wonder who they would cast as the actor, and how you would feel during the shoot. Would it be awkward? Would it be uncomfortable? Would it never make you want to get into a bed with a man again?

You glance over at Agust again, hoping for some reassurance. But he is still as inscrutable as ever, his attention focused on the production team.

You sigh, realizing that you would have to face this challenge on your own.

As the meeting ends and everyone begins to file out of the conference room, Agust catches your eye. His eyes soften for a moment and he gives you a slight nod of encouragement. Your heartbeat quickens.

You know that stepping out of your comfort zone would be difficult, but with Agust’s encouragement, you are ready to face it head on.

•••

A loud groan leaves your throat when you can’t seem to figure out which harmony you like better after recording 42 different attempts. You scratch the back of your ear as you listen to every single one repeatedly but that isn’t any good either.

You transfer everything onto a USB and get out of your chair, heading out of your studio. You walk for a while until you pass by one of the producers’ studios, Kim Namjoon. Namjoon is Agust D’s first recruit and right hand. He is a genius when it comes to music, especially his lyricism. He also has a good ear for vocal arrangements, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask his opinion on your problem.

You raise your fist and knock on his studio door, patiently waiting. Once you’ve been standing there for longer than 10 seconds with no response, you reach for the door handle. You try to open up but it’s locked, making you frown in confusion. You reach for your phone and quickly notice it’s already 9PM.

You hadn’t realized it was already this late and that most of your colleagues have probably already gone home for the day. You quietly sigh as you start heading back to your own studio but not before an idea pops into your head.

There was usually one person who stayed longer than anyone else and that was your boss, the CEO, Agust D. You don’t like asking him for his opinion on your craft because he’s so blunt, it makes you a bit insecure. So, you usually avoid it if you can.

However, you really want to finish this track today.

Just ask him.

You turn on your heels and walk down the corridor, clutching the USB drive as you approach Agust’s studio. Inhaling deeply in anticipation, you push his studio door open quietly.

However, your anticipation quickly turns into surprise when you find your boss not behind his mix console or laptop like he usually was, but lying on the sofa in his studio, seemingly unwell. Concern washes over your face and you approach cautiously, believing he might be in need of assistance.

As you draw closer, you notice Agust’s hands on his stomach, his eyes closed and his face slightly tilted to the side. Is he in pain?

Curiosity gets the better of you and you decide to lean in closer, hovering over his body to examine him. Soft puffs leave his mouth and he looks quite peaceful.

He’s asleep.

Once you realize he’s just napping and not unwell, you want to get the hell out of there. However, just as you turn to leave, Agust’s eyes shoot open and stare straight at you, his gaze intense and unwelcoming.

It startles you, your eyes widening as you take a step back. You internally curse at yourself for how close you were standing.

“I don’t remember letting Peeping Tom into my studio,” he grumbles in annoyance and even if it was supposed to be a joke, it surely didn’t sound like one.

What?!

Of all the things he could have said, the least you expected was him implying you are some kind of sick voyeuring pervert getting off on watching him sleep.

You blink in shock. “I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t feeling well,” you quickly explain your reasoning for standing so close to him, but that doesn’t stop him from glaring at you.

Your face immediately heats up with embarrassment as he shows no sign of looking away from you any time soon. You mutter another quiet apology as you walk backwards towards the door of his studio.

Agust’s piercing glare lingered longer, his expression unreadable. The tension is unbearable, making you immediately regret the decision to approach him in that vulnerable moment.

With a curt nod, Agust mutters dismissively, “Just go. Remember to knock next time.” He turns onto his side, facing the wall, seemingly returning to dreamland.

You quietly leave his studio and immediately bolt down the corridor, back into your own studio. Your heart is pounding in your chest. You pray that you don’t have to interact with him any time soon, or ever again.

•••

The day of the music video shoot finally rolls around.

Your prayer was answered because you hadn’t seen Agust in the week following the incident when you walked in on him sleeping in his studio.

Tsk. Peeping Tom. What the hell is his problem?

That didn’t matter now, though. You are finally going to shoot your very first professional music video today. You couldn’t sleep the entire night.

You drag your feet towards the kitchen, seeing Daniel enjoying a cup of coffee whilst scrolling on his phone. He glances up at you and immediately returns his attention to his phone.

You sigh quietly and sit across from him. “Hey,” you greet him.

“Hi,” he mumbles, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip.

“Today’s the day,” you remind him, fidgeting with your nails. You had mentioned the intimate scenes to him and initially he didn’t seem bothered but you know him. You wouldn’t like it either.

“Yeah,” he hums, placing his mug back onto the table. “I’m guessing you won’t be home for dinner?”

You shrug to his question, not sure how long the first day of shooting would take. You’re still new to this.

“Alright. Good luck.” He gets up and presses a kiss to the top of your head before leaving the kitchen. You stare at the half full coffee mug in front of you, sighing quietly to yourself.

Ugh. Why we are you still with him?

You quickly shake your head, an attempt at erasing the intrusive thought. Daniel loves you. He saved you. If it weren’t for him, you’d be sleeping in a cardboard box outside of some random reeking train station. You owe him.

And if that’s in the form of a relationship, so be it.

•••

As soon as you sit down in hair and makeup, you try to distract yourself on your phone but that doesn’t help much when you glance in the mirror every 5 minutes.

Your hair is perfect, your makeup looks absolutely flawless. You’ve never had this done to you and you feel like an actual celebrity.

Stepping out of the room in your little black dress, cursing yourself for using those exact words in your lyrics, you head out to the set. Your heels loudly click against the floor and it makes you feel like everyone is staring at you.

The first few scenes are supposed to be you alone, gloomy vibes, looking out of it. You do your best to get into character.

The set you are on is just a white backdrop with some props, a couch and pink lighting. You are seated on the couch and you have to mouth the lyrics into the camera, looking hurt and desperate like you did that night.

The first few takes are a bit tough but you get the hang of it pretty soon. The excitement of what the final product of this music video will look like sends a surge of confidence through you, making you finally step out of your comfort zone and go with the flow of what the director is asking of you.

The director compliments you and wants more versions of this scene. Asking you to change positions on the couch, asking you to not move, asking you to cry on command.

You understand why Agust asked what made you think you were ready for a music video. This is exhausting.

Noon already rolls around and so far, everything is going smoothly.

That is, until the director yells a loud ‘cut!’ and turns around to greet whoever just walked in that made everyone stop doing what they were doing.

Agust fucking D.

He struts towards the director, shaking his hand and starting small talk. What the hell is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be working right now? Why is he here?

It takes a few moments before his eyes are on you, his expression never changing. You are almost certain your heart rate flat lines for a few seconds as his eyes search yours.

You are just sitting there now, waiting for the director to continue the shoot but the director turns and starts a conversation with the camera man, allowing Agust to escape the conversation with him.

Your stomach free falls to your feet as you watch Agust walk up to you, his hands in his pockets. He is wearing one of his damned black suits again, the ones that he looks absolutely gorgeous in and his stupid gorgeous hair was styled perfectly, with a side part, exposing his forehead. The light blue dress shirt under his suit jacket was unbuttoned at the top and a thin chain decorated his gorgeous neck.

He stops right in front of you and looks down at you, his unreadable expression never changing. “How’s your first shoot going?”

You peer up at him through your fake eyelashes, still seated. You shrug and lean back into the couch, crossing your leg over the other and crossing your arms over your chest. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do that on purpose. “It’s going pretty well, I think.”

He narrows his eyes at you for a second, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth as he shamelessly and slowly trails his gaze down your body before looking back into your eyes. It only lasted a few seconds but under his gaze it lasted an eternity.

“You look good,” he states, nonchalantly.

That almost knocks the air out of your lungs. How can he just say this after eyeing you like that?

You mean eye-fucking you like that?

Stop that.

Sure, you wear makeup to work and make sure your hair is always done but having a professional glam team professionally doll you up… you know you look fucking good.

“Oh… uh. Thanks,” you reply, almost slapping your hand onto your mouth to keep yourself from saying ‘you too!’. You are satisfied that your little plan worked.

Just pounce him already.

You have to physically stop yourself from groaning at your little succubus. You watch him nod to your ‘thanks’ but you can’t hold back anymore.

“What brings you here?” you finally ask, chewing on the inside of your cheek in anxiety.

He doesn’t reply for a few moments but instead just stares at you before opening his mouth, “I’m here to support my artist.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, you could have sworn he wouldn’t care that much about a music video. Especially from you. He barely talks to you and when he does, he’s quick and dismissive.

Him seeming unavailable is why you want him, isn’t it?

Ignore.

You are glad you’re seated because the way he called you his artist would’ve made you weak in the knees.

You’re smacked out of your thoughts when he says the next thing, “It’s important to me. Especially since it’s your first time.”

Heat rushes to your face. You internally roll your eyes at yourself for your immaturity. What are you, a 14 year old boy?

“Thank you, boss. I appreciate it,” you lie. Well, half lie. You appreciate that he wants to support you. You don’t appreciate that he was about to watch you get into a bed, touched and held by a random man.

He gives a single nod once again and turns around before heading back to the production crew.

The director starts rolling the cameras again and you have to pretend not to care as Agust watches you sensually mouthing suggestive lyrics into the camera.

His eyes linger on your manicured hands roaming your own body, the long press on nails they glued onto your fingertips this morning digging into your own skin.

You aren’t looking at him but you can see him staring at you in your peripheral vision. And it makes you want to be even more provocative.

After what seems like hours had passed but is only about 30 minutes, one of the interns runs in. A clipboard in her hand and her phone against her ear, a look of remorse on her face. She hangs up and turns to the director.

“The– uh… The actor just cancelled,” she hesitantly says to the production team, watching them swear at the news.

The director takes off his headset, cursing and saying something about how he was depending on that actor for the majority of the scenes today.

You observe the chaos ensuing around you, the crew arguing about it being stupid for not hiring a backup actor, about how they should’ve appointed an earlier hour to start recording, something about the actor being stupid for being hospitalized, arguing over deadlines, etc.. But you?

Honestly, it relieves you. You didn’t want to do it anyway.

Maybe they’ll quickly brainstorm other scenes and ideas with the props they have or schedule to shoot the intimate scenes another day. Anything is better than the original storyboard with Agust watching from the sidelines. Your boss wasn’t going to watch you get dry humped by a stranger and that was enough to relieve you.

Maybe the universe is smiling down on you.

“Let me do it.”

Maybe the universe isn’t smiling down on you.

Actually, this convinces you that the universe is laughing at you.

You are flustered by the suggestion. You slowly turn your head as you pray you didn’t just hear what you thought you heard.

It’s quiet for a few moments. The crew is just as shocked as you are at the offer.

Your eyes fall on Agust and he has a serious look on his face. He’s not even looking at you, just staring at the director and nodding as the crew repeatedly ask him if he’s absolutely sure.

Did he really just… offer to be the love interest in your music video?

Agust D as the actor in your music video? Wouldn’t that be weird? He’s your boss. He’s the CEO of your record label. He was there during the storyboard meeting. He knows what scenes await him. Why would he offer to do it? He isn’t even in his own music videos. Why would he offer to be in yours? What would people think?

Look at you panicking. This is hilarious.

Agust speaks up, tearing you out of your thoughts. “I can’t let my artist down,” he says, looking at you for the first time since suggesting it, a serious expression on his face. “Let’s do it.”

It’s so funny. You absolutely hate how excited you are. You’re messy as fuck.

Shut up.

You don’t trust your voice enough to say anything so you just hesitantly nod at him, clammy hands fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

You hate that your inner demon’s thoughts ring true. You can’t ignore the growing excitement pooling in your stomach for the life of you.

taglist

@wobblewobble822 @pinklemonsstuff @jwnghyuns @dragonxinia @Sugainmybowl @samymxt @taegicity @rirushu @irishchic36 @agustdsslutt @missroro @p34rluv @nonconformingwannabelover @louwhoelse @acquiescence804 @annasprl @glosstwn @joonwater @srg-yg @namgiswifey @flxxrksj92 @fakedanger @Darkerrdaze @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ultrasadgirl @wondertales @yoongluverz @agustdswifey @honsoolgloss @gamer-carat

enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me a coffee if you want ☕︎♡

---

idk if you’re taking any requests or not but if you are could you write jungkook x thick poc 🫶🏽✨

ofc lovely, idk if you meant thick in terms of like reader having a fat ass or a chubby bodied reader or both but for now let’s go with the latter

piercer!jungkook x chubby bodied! poc reader

warnings; possible grammatical errors but f it we ball. smut. ginger yoongi cameo

poc coded for my poc girls

“fuck i’m so nervous..” you mutter to yourself, knee bouncing as you wait for your piercer to get their equipment ready.

you had just finished signing what needed to be signed and now you were waiting your turn but as the seconds went by you were thinking about booking it the hell on out of there.

“relax girl, you’ll be fine. i’ve been getting pierced here for years. they’re going to treat you right, i promise.” ninging’s reassuring you with her dainty, manicured hands, clasped over yours.

you weren’t scared about a needle going through your nipples but you were starting to become a tad self conscious about if it’d look good or not. you heard that this piercing in particular was a confidence booster and it made you want to get them even more.

before you could relay the message to your best friend, a ginger haired male appears from behind the black curtain that sectioned off the next room. with a nod towards said curtain, he gestures you over to follow him and with baited breath.. you do.

your throat feels dry and give one last look to ningning who’s giving you a thumbs up with a big grin stretched across her lips.

you let out a breath and pull the curtains back, entering the next room. your eyes are instantly met with a black chair you’d see in a dentist office and a whole set up that looks expensive as fuck.

pictures of people with various body modifications, tattoos and piercings litter the walls. your eyes travel across the room, taking everything in until they land on a pair of soft brown ones and it’s then, you finally see him.

he’s standing at one of the four corners of the room, cladding his hands in black latex gloves. his dark hair frames his face beautifully, falling a little bit above his broad shoulders. a lip ring hangs onto the bottom of his lip, a silver bar to match on his brow. the rolled up sleeves to his shirt gives you a view of arms, one littered with beautiful ink.

his lips curl into a smile as he immediately notes you ogling at him. the feelings mutual though as he takes in your figure. your outfit complimenting every part of you. there’s something about your presence that’s drawing him in and it’s not just your body.

“alright, i’m gonna go on break.” the gingered male announces, turning on his heels to exit the room.

now it’s just you and who you assume to be your piercer.

“you can have a seat in that chair over there,” his voice is sweet. it doesn’t match his looks at all but hey, you’re not complaining.

“I’m jungkook by the way.”

“..y/n”

you bite your inner cheek as you make your way over to the chair, holding your purse close to your stomach, waiting for further instructions. As you sit in the chair it’s dawning on you that this hot ass fucking piercer, looking fresh out of the front page of vogue, is going to see your tits.

The thought makes your chest feel heavy, you chew on your bottom lip in an attempt to control your mind from wandering elsewhere.

With all the shuffling behind you, you presume that he’s getting his equipment ready. You're lost in your thoughts, constantly turning on your phone to check the time and for notifications even though you knew there weren’t any. Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, slightly startled due to the fact that it’s been a while since he spoke.

He’s standing next to you now. Matter of fact, towering over you, a soft expression etched onto his face.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable with me doing it. Our female piercer is like coming in thirty-”

“No! I’m fine honestly,” you reassure the man but he’s not so convinced.. So you hesitantly press further. “I’m not worried about that.. It’s just that i’m kind of having doubts about getting them.”

In all of jungkook’s seven years as a piercer, he’s heard it all. He was familiar with the nervous looks and anxious ticks. He’s heard all in the questions and concerns in the book. So with that being said.

“You know,” he starts, resting his tattooed arm on the chair while leaning down towards you, that fucking grin forming on his lips again. At this point he’s close enough to the point where you can smell the faint scent of thc that’s over powered by the minty gum that he’s currently chewing.

Your heart is in your throat as your eyes are basically bulging out your head. You usually weren’t one for people being in your personal space but this was okay.. More than okay.

God, you felt like such a perv for wanting him to come in closer.

“I’ve heard that i’m pretty convincing. Why are you doubting the piercing?”

You swallow thickly, blinking rapidly as you try to find your voice. “I’m kind of worried they won’t look good on me.” your voice is small.

Jungkook is slightly taken aback, a hint of confusion spreads across his features before he drops it and flashes you a warm smile. “If that’s the case, you have nothing to worry about.. But if you want a second opinion, lift up your shirt for me.”

Your insides are internally screaming at the last part. Even though you were aware he was just doing his job, the tone of his voice was taking effect on you. So much so that jungkook notices the way your thighs subconsciously push together. Oh, he likes this.

It takes you a few seconds to actually grab onto the ends of your shirt, lifting it up over your breasts.

Jungkook runs his tongue across his pierced lip, eyes glued to your chest and for a while he doesn’t say anything and you begin to feel more self conscious than before. As you begin to pull down your shirt, he grabs your wrist with his free hand, he’s looking at you with an intense stare that makes your heart leap out of your chest.

“As a piercer, you have nothing to worry about,”

You find your lips moving faster than your mind is able to comprehend.

“Personal opinion?”

Jungkook’s gaze drops down to your chest before flickering back to your face.

“I’ll show you, if you let me,” he’s dropping down to his knees, face leveled between your thighs, tilting his head while he’s looking up at you. “Please?”

You immediately find yourself nodding. You feel your core heat beneath your shorts. You’re slightly startled when he pushes the lever down, bringing your chair down so that he’s face to face with your tits.

He’s staring up at you as he’s leaning in, looking for any signs of uncomfort. He’s so close now. His breath fans onto your sensitive bud, closing his eyes as he takes it into his mouth. It warm. So warm.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth as you watch him. His tongue swipes over your nipple and it’s then that you feel something small poke against it and it dawns on you that he has a tongue piercing. The realization makes your cunt flutter, you try clenching your thighs again but is obstructed jungkook whose body you forgot was in between them.

His hands find their way to your plush thighs, smoothing his palms over them as his eyes flicker open.

You can’t control the obscenity that’s flying out your mouth. “F-fuck.” you whimper which makes jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants.

He removes his lips from your now wet nipple, kissing the top of your knee. “You have to be quiet for me, pretty girl ‘kay?”

You look up towards the fluorescent light and silently nod, cheeks heating in the process at the nickname he threw in there.

He’s smiling before going back in but this time giving your other nipple some attention. His ministrations are ten fold this time. His tongue swirls against your nipple while sliding one of his hands onto your clothed cunt. His hand slides under your pussy, rubbing his nimble fingers against it. You’re responsive with a soft gasp leaving you. This makes jungkook smile and he switches from working his tongue on you to full on sucking your tit.

You look down to see jungkook and god does submissive look so good on him. He’s got an innocent look going as if he’s not making out with your tit and totally not trying to finger fuck you in the process.

The sight makes you moan softly, your back arches off the chair and this makes jungkook’s fingers move faster. He somehow finds your clit through your shorts and rubs it, applying pressure.

Your moans are music to his ears, he’s half hard but could probably cum off this alone. Pleasure looks absolutely gorgeous on you and he’d do anything to see you like this again.. Maybe even forever.

He’s lost in you until your breathing is heavy and you’re looking down on him again. “J-jungkook,”

He’s humming against your nipple “hm?”

“I’m gonna cum.” you’re whining at this point, face twisted and ridden with euphoria.

In one swift move that leaves you utterly speechless because he’s practically handling you with ease, he unlatches himself from your nipple and tears down your panties and your shorts down to your knees. He wraps his arms around your deliciously thick thighs, pulling you down towards the end of the chair, leaving your pussy exposed to him.

He takes a moment to admire how wet you are for him, practically drooling at how pretty your pussy is. He wastes no more time and attaches his lips to your clit, sucking on it harshly. His tongue delves down your slit then back up to your clit, flicking it with the ball of his tongue piercing.

your hands fly to his hair, tugging on it which makes jungkook moan into your pussy. the vibrations adding onto the immense pleasure you were already feeling.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, lost in the midst of it all as he goes from licking at your clit to full on fucking you with his tongue. your mouth is ajar at the feeling and soon enough you’re creaming around his tongue, a broken cry falling from your pretty lips.

jungkook laps it all up like a man starved. you shudder at the feeling of being overstimulated but you taste so good he basks in it, hoping that you have more for him. when he realizes that you don’t he taps your thigh to get you to look at him.

it takes all the strength you have left and crane your neck down towards him, slowly opening your eyes. jungkook smiles at the fact how utterly fucked out you are but still manage to look so pretty.

“piercing free of charge if you can squirt for me.”

.

.

.

please this was supposed to be like a small drabble

---

˚ ༘♡. 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 ೃ࿐

a 7 part jjk drabble series based on the explicit version of ‘seven’. release tbc.

how it will work: each day of the week is assigned a different lyric from the single ‘seven’ by jjk. each drabble will feature its own environment & kink(s) that correspond to the associated lyric.

series masterlist:

1. monday: sęx in the workplace - “got you skipping work and meetings”

2. tuesday: sęx in a car - “its the way that you can ride”

3. wednesday: sęx outside - “i kiss your waist and ease your mind”

4. thursday: sęx in a hot tub / bathtub - “you know night after night, i’ll be fuckin' you right”

5. friday: sęx in a secret space - “so break me off another time”

6. saturday: sęx while gaming - “you wrap around me and you give me life”

7. sunday: sęx in the kitchen - “wind it back i’ll take it slow”

pairing: seven!jungkook x f!reader (afab) genre(s)&au(s): non idol, slice of life, established relationship, smut, fluff, minor tiny angst warnings & smut warnings: all drabbles will come with their own warnings upon release w/c: all drabbles will come with their own word count upon release rating: 18+ banner: @caelesjjk

taglist [open]: - comment below! - ageless and empty blogs will not be included & minors will be blocked.

note1: this is something new that ive never tried before, so i do hope people will show it some love ♡ note2: thank you to my sarah for not just the banner but for also listening & sharing ideas over the last 2 days to create this series

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mami (m) (teaser) | myg/knj

— “then hurry up, mami. gimme one more for luck.”    

title: mami (teaser) pairing: battle rappers!myg/knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au  summary: turns out, two of the guys you’ve been hooking up with are battle rappers. and roommates. and the most competitive gd people you’ve ever met.  warnings for fic: [redacted] lmfaooooo🥴🥴🥴  warnings for teaser: cursing, yoongi’s fit, dirty talk, namjoon deserves his own gd warning throughout this whole fic so it’s included in the teaser warnings, too :^))  note: fuuuuuuck me lol. this is also gonna have some heavy 00s vibes so let’s fcking go🦋 est. drop date: jul-aug 2023 est. word count: 15-20k taglist: join here (will be checking blogs!) —18+ teaser below if you want to read :)) drops you right in the middle! minors dni.  

Keep reading

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schemin’ | myg (m) 07

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

summary: Your dream comes true when world renowned music producer and CEO of D-Town Records, Agust D, discovers you in the underground rap scene and wants to sign you to his label. It all goes well for a few months and you can’t believe you’re actually living your dream. However, things start to shift when Agust D offers to do something for you and you can’t stop thinking about it for weeks to come. Your boyfriend doesn’t like it one bit.

chapter warnings: sexual tension (u should be used to it by now tbh?) bratty!reader, asshole!yoongi, provocations, angst, intrusive thoughts, y/n inner dialogue, fuckass daniel, kissing, confession?, a lot of doubts, cockblocking, plot twist, a lot of namjoon cause i luv him, minors DNI

category: series

wordcount: 7.7k

a/n: hmm… all i can say is enjoy? tell me what you think? keep the fire torches and pitch forks at home

m.list & concept video

previous | next

chapter 7: bait taken

Your heart is beating a mile a minute as you burst out of Yoongi’s mansion, your mind racing with a million different thoughts. You break into a run towards your boyfriend’s car, which is still parked just outside the gates, and hastily climb into the passenger seat.

“Sure took you long enou–”

You interrupt him immediately. “Let’s go.”

Daniel, sensing the urgency in your demeanor, drops his phone in his lap, sits up straight and scans your face with a look of concern.

“Wow, what happened? Have you been crying?” he asks, his voice laced with worry.

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself before answering. “Just start the car, I want to go,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.

As Daniel starts the car, quick images of Yoongi’s lustful eyes staring down at you as he pleasured you keeps flashing in your mind, the memory of his touch still lingering on your skin. The wetness – caused by another man – in your pants is uncomfortable but you can’t show any discomfort in front of your boyfriend.

“What the hell did that bastard say to you? I swear I’ll go in there right now and–”

“No,” you interrupt immediately. “He just told me to be careful with leaving my shit around and how irresponsible I am, and he’s right. I needed to hear that.” You quickly make up a lie, hoping he won’t push the conversation any further.

He lets out a heavy sigh and turns his attention back to the road, his hand on your knee as he tries to soothe you. You glance at the man you’ve been sharing years of your life with and yet here you are, with thoughts of another man still clouding your mind.

As the car drives away from Yoongi’s home, you can’t help but steal one last glance at his house, wondering what Yoongi is doing or how he’s feeling. But you quickly turn your attention back to your boyfriend, his presence a reminder of the life you have waiting for you outside of Yoongi's grasp.

And you don’t even feel bad.

•••

That night, you’re lying in bed, scrolling through your phone when Daniel walks into the bedroom. He’s talking on the phone but as soon as he hangs up, he plops down next to you and lets out a deep sigh.

“Hey,” he says, turning to look at you.

“Hi,” you quietly reply, setting your phone down on your nightstand face down after plugging it into the charger.

“My mom’s asking to come visit her over the weekend,” he says. He runs his hand through his hair in anticipation, eyes carefully studying you.

Your heart sinks a little. You won’t be able to take any time off work, not with all the fake deadlines coming up. “I’d love to go, but I really can’t take any time off of work,” you say, apologetically.

He sighs in annoyance, his head shaking in disapproval. “Working this hard for that ungrateful bastard should be illegal.”

You really don’t want to have a conversation with him about Yoongi, not with Daniel and not after what happened earlier today. With a ruffle of the sheets, you turn your back to him. “I’m working for my dream, not him.”

The mattress suddenly tilts and you assume he’s gotten up. You hear the shuffling of his feet as the sound gets distant, heading towards the door. “If you say so.”

You pull the covers up around you, not really in the mood to deal with Daniel’s bullshit.

You can’t help but think about Yoongi, about how he pleasured you, about how he looked at you, about how he cleaned you up.

Specifically the way he cleaned you up. The atmosphere was so strange and intense. You were so sure he was going to kiss you then.

But why would he? You begged for him to touch you and he did. Realistically, why would he kiss you?

Your eyelids become heavy and you struggle to keep them open but every single time you shut your eyes you see Yoongi’s black eyes staring you down. Deep black pools of lust and want, but did he actually want you or was the situation just arousing to him?

Because he’s just a man, after all.

•••

After days of Yoongi’s absence at the company building once again, your heart races with anticipation as you finally catch a glimpse of him walking into his studio down the hall.

You look around to see if anyone else is around before slowly making your way to his studio, knocking on the door before slowly pushing it open. You’re relieved to see that no one aside from Yoongi is there and he’s clicking away on his laptop, like always.

He’s suited up again, hair once again perfectly styled and the same intoxicating cologne lingering on his clothes and skin.

“Hi,” you hesitantly say, hoping to catch his attention.

Yoongi glances over his shoulder at you before returning his gaze to his computer. “Hey,” he replies, monotoned.

You close the door behind you and walk closer to him, staring at his back in anticipation. “How have you been?” you ask, awkwardly trying to start conversation.

“Fine,” he responds curtly, not even bothering to look at you.

Oh, now he wants to act like his fingers weren’t on your pussy 4 days ago?

You frown at his indifference, fingers twitching with the urge to turn him around and make him look at you. “Do you want to, maybe… uh… get some coffee? With me? Right now?” you carefully ask, hoping to break the ice.

“I’m busy right now, Y/N.”

Damn. That’s crazy.

Your confusion quickly turns to disappointment, an uneasy feeling seeping into your stomach and leaking to the rest of your body. “Oh...okay. I’ll just bring you a cu–”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts you before you can even finish your offer of bringing him a cup of coffee, still not sparing you a glance. “Close the door on your way out, will you?”

Smack cam.

Your frown deepens as you stare at the back of Yoongi’s skull, blood rushing to your face in embarrassment. You know you should be used to him dismissing you rudely but really? Did he really just dismiss you like that? After what happened? Without even looking at you?

What did you honestly expect, dumbass?

You let out a scoff before turning around and walking out of his studio. You leave the door wide open, your subtle way of telling him to go fuck himself.

You storm down the hall and head towards your own studio, slamming the door shut behind you. You lean against the door for a while, thinking about how humiliated you feel right now.

You shut yourself in your studio, your mind still reeling from the encounter with Yoongi. Your heart is heavy with tension and shame. Does he regret it? Do you regret it?

You start pacing around your studio, your hands shaking as you try to restrain yourself from going back into his studio and screaming your head off at him. You’re angry and frustrated and before you know it, you’re seated in your office chair, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper and pouring out your emotions in the form of lyrics.

You’re clicking away on your laptop, fingers dragging newly recorded layers and harmonies. You haven’t been this focused in weeks.

You don’t even notice the time passing by, lost in your own world of music and anger. It’s only when the door to your studio creaks open that you snap back to reality, looking up expectantly and hoping to see Yoongi.

But instead, it’s Namjoon that walks in.

“You good?” he asks, looking at you with concern.

You nod, a little surprised by the interruption. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

Namjoon walks further into your studio, looking around at the mess of papers and lyrics scattered across the room. “Because literally everyone has already left for the day and you’re still here,” he explains, “I almost locked you in.”

You glance at the clock on your computer and are surprised to see that it’s already almost 10 in the evening. You hadn’t even realized that the time had passed by so quickly.

“Wow, I didn’t even notice it was that late,” you frown. You’d been so caught up writing lyrics and making music about your infuriating boss, lyrics that were probably never going to see the light of day.

Namjoon walks up to you, his eyes scanning over your tired face and the mess on your desk. “Having difficulty writing lyrics?”

You shake your head, a small dick bitter smile on your lips. “The opposite actually,” you admit, “I just needed to get some things off my chest.”

Namjoon chuckles, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Well, that’s good,” he says, “but you should go home. You need some rest.”

You nod in agreement, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle heavily on your shoulders. You turn to turn off your computer and gather your things. Namjoon waits by your door, leaning against it as he watches you.

You make your way out of your studio and into the empty hallway, Namjoon walking up beside you.

“What were you writing about?” he asks you, pressing the button by the elevator.

You glance at him, shoving your phone into your backpocket. “Everything and nothing,” you simply say as you walk into the elevator. He chuckles at your vague response as he walks into the elevator after you, tapping the 0 button.

You lean your head against the elevator wall, closing your eyes and holding onto the metal bar on your side.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look out of it,” Namjoon presses the issue and you sigh quietly before stealing a glance at him.

“It’s just one of those days, really. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go home and dive straight into bed, you have my word,” you reassure him with a weak smile on your lips.

He holds up his pinky finger and you roll your eyes but can’t help it. You chuckle at the innocent gesture before you link your pinky with his. He smiles wide, his dimples making an appearance as he taps your forehead before exiting the elevator and you follow quickly behind him.

You both exit the building and Namjoon locks up, allowing you to get to your car without needing to answer any more of his questions. You get in and start the car, leaning your forehead against the steering wheel for a few minutes.

You pick up your head, staring blankly ahead. It is a Saturday evening and Sunday was your usual rest day, but you can’t bear the thought of being alone with your thoughts. Daniel is still away visiting his parents and won’t be back until tomorrow evening.

As you sit in the parking lot of the company building, watching Namjoon pull out and drive away, your mind races with all the things you want to say to Yoongi.

Why did he dismiss you like that? It reminds you exactly of the way he treated you at the start. It hurts more now, though.

Is it okay for you to feel this way? He doesn’t owe you anything.

Does he regret what happened in his home office? Did he realize that he doesn’t want anything to do with you? That he doesn’t want to get involved with someone as messy as you?

Your eyes trail to the clock on your car radio and you quickly realize you’ve been sitting there for almost an hour.

Get a grip. Go home.

You start your car and slowly start driving. And driving. And driving.

Once you hit a red light, you’re left alone with your thoughts again and soon enough a memory takes over.

4 years ago

You were seated on the couch in the cozy living room of Daniel’s apartment. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, casting a warm ambiance over your conversation. You looked thoughtful, your eyes filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty.

“I’m thinking about going into battle rapping,” you announced, your chest filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It’s usually in the evening, and depending on the event and venue, I can get paid a little.”

Daniel’s expression grew solemn as he listened to your words. After a moment of silence, he sighed, his voice quiet. “I think it’s time you give up.”

Your head snapped towards him, eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

Daniel took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. “You’re giving this music thing all your time and effort, but it’s not leading anywhere,” he explained, his tone tinged with a touch of concern.

You stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. “Something like that doesn't happen overni–”

He cuts you off. “I know that. But you’ve been doing this since you were a kid. Don’t you think it would have happened by now if it was meant to be?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, rising to your feet angrily.

Daniel leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on you. “Calm down, Y/N,” he said, softly. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“No, you’re making me feel bad,” you replied, voice trembling slightly.

Daniel’s face softened and he reached out to gently hold your hand. “It’s just that... I hate seeing you live in your cousin's old basement,” he admitted, his voice filled with genuine concern. “You’ve got nothing to your name, you don’t even have a high school diploma. You deserve better.”

You closed your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. The weight of Daniel’s words sank in, stirring a mix of emotions within you. “But I love what I do,” you whispered.

Daniel nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know you do, baby,” he said tenderly. “And you’re damn good at it. But it’s time for you to be realistic. You’re 21 now. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re an adult.”

Your gaze fell to the floor as silent tears streamed down your cheeks. Your dreams felt threatened, your passion called into question. You were torn between holding onto your dreams and facing the harsh reality of your circumstances.

“Hey, don’t cry, forget what I said,” he said gently, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “I didn’t mean to make your dream feel useless. Why don’t you come live with me?”

You sniffled, your tears gradually subsiding as you looked up at Daniel. “How will you support the both of us?” you asked him, cursing yourself for being so vulnerable.

Daniel smiled softly, his hand gently wiping away your tears. “I’ll manage,” he assured you. “You just focus on you. Let me take care of the rest.”

•••

You snap out of the memory when the traffic light flickers to green. Daniel stopped bringing it up since then because he knew how upset it made you. You knew deep down he was right but look at how the tables have turned? Shouldn’t he just trust you? Trust your skill? Your talent? Your passion?

You softly sigh as you accelerate, driving down the bumpy road.

It’s all a blur. As if you’re on autopilot. You don’t even remember how you drove all the way here, how you got out of your car, how you typed in the gate code and how you are now standing in front of Yoongi’s front door.

You dumb bitch!

You hesitate for a moment but before you can second-guess yourself, you ring the doorbell.

There’s no response at first. You ring the doorbell again and after a while, there’s shuffling on the other side of the door. Hearing the keys jingling against the door forms a lump in your throat. What are you even going to say?

The door slowly opens, revealing Yoongi with messy hair and a puffy face, clearly just awoken from his slumber in his white tee and grey sweatpants.

Your impulsiveness strikes again. Without a word, you push the door further open and push your way inside. His expression remains blank, but you catch him narrowing his eyes slightly as he closes the door behind you.

“What the hell is your deal, Yoongi?” you demand, breaking the silence once the door is shut.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, unable to hide his smugness.

Frustration bubbles in your chest. You hate how nonchalant Yoongi is acting after humiliating you this morning.

Neither of you say anything, you just stare at each other for a while before he opens his mouth to say, “Why are you here, Y/N?”

You glare at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of answering his question.

He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches out, gently fixing the earring in your earlobe. Your mouth almost salivates, your knees go weak, your breath hitches in your throat all at his touch but you do your best not to show any change in your expression.

“What do you want, Y/N? You’re a big girl. Use your words,” Yoongi says as he pulls his hand back, his voice raspy and oozing pure arrogance.

You fight the urge to grab him and shut him up with your lips. “You know what I want,” you quietly say.

He steps closer to you, his eyes narrowing further. “I want to hear you say it,” he tells you, his familiar minty breath fanning over your face.

Your core clenches at his proximity and it’s getting harder to keep your composure. “I told you, you know what I want,” you repeat, your voice quieter this time.

“And I said that I want to hear you say it,” he repeats sternly.

You stare each other down, clearly challenging each other. But you’re the desperate one, it seems.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to give in to your desires or not. It’s wrong, you know it’s wrong.

Don’t do it. You know you’ll regret it.

You swallow. “I want you,” you finally say, pretty eyes peering into his.

Aaaaand you’ve done it. You stupid bitch.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker with satisfaction for a second, his head tilting to the side as a smirk forms on his lips and his arms cross over his chest. “Hm. I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both just stand there, staring at each other. Your heart is racing in your chest, your palms are getting sweaty, your throat is getting drier by the second. You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to another.

“So… why are you just standing there?” you ask, your voice slightly trembling in uncertainty as you glance away from him momentarily before returning the eye contact. The tension is too much. “I just told you what you wanted to hear.”

The shit-eating smirk never leaves his face. “So? You think you can just barge into my home at ass o’ clock and demand my attention?” he says, his tone indifferent and cocky as he takes a step closer to you. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Son of a bitch.

Your mouth falls open in shock, your eyes widening in disbelief. Your brain goes at lightning speed to try and say something snarky, to retaliate, to piss him off the way he pisses you off but no words come out. Your mind is black.

You want to say you’re surprised by the sudden change in his attitude, by him being so blunt and rude but you’re not. This is exactly the same man you’ve been working for these past few months. What makes you think he’d be any different after giving you an orgasm in his home office? Just because he so carefully cleaned you up?

Yoongi licks his teeth as he takes a step closer to you, his face only inches from yours. “Go home, Y/N.”

See? You should have just gone home. It’s your own fault.

“God, I fucking hate you,” you finally snap, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. He continues to smirk at you, eyes full of amusement and satisfaction.

His gaze drops down to your fists, which are clenched in frustration as you glare at him. “Fuck you, Yoongi,” you spit, as you turn around and open the door. “Fucking coward.”

He immediately takes a big step forward, his hand reaching out to slam the door shut, the loud bang of the door closing causing you to flinch but you quickly compose yourself as you turn to face him again.

“What was that?” he snaps, menacingly looming over you as you’re now trapped against the door by his proximity.

You don’t back down, though, meeting his intense gaze head-on. “I said you’re a fucking coward. You come to check up on me, you tell me to call you by your name, you make me come to your home, put your hands on me, you make me feel wanted and when I finally fight my better judgment and give in, you reject and humiliate me.”

His lips curve into a smug smile, his eyes dancing with amusement again. “Oh, is that what this is about?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Your jaw clenches as you fight to keep your temper in check. “You know what?” you shrug, “Maybe you just can’t handle it.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What?” he asks, taken aback by your words.

“Or maybe you’re scared,” you continue. You’re bullshitting but you refuse to leave before getting a rise out of him like he did you. “Because you have a micropenis or something.”

Satisfaction swims in your stomach at the look of surprise that crosses Yoongi’s face. But it’s short-lived, as he quickly composes himself and chuckles.

“If you say so,” he quips, his voice smooth. He runs a hand through his beautiful black hair, the shit-eating grin makes you want to simultaneously slap him and kiss him.

You roll your eyes, your anger returning full force at your failed attempt at riling him up. “Go fuck yourself, Yoongi,” you spit, turning to the door and seeing his hand still pressed up against it to keep you from leaving. “Let me out.”

Yoongi stares at the back of your head for a moment before he takes his hand off the door and buries his hands in his pockets, still almost pressed up against your body. He tilts his head slightly, as if contemplating something, before finally speaking.

“Would it kill you to just say ‘please’ for once? I gave you what you wanted right away last time, you know,” he says, reminding you of when you did in fact, tell him to ‘please’ just touch you.

“I would rather die than beg you for anything ever again,” you scoff, hand on the doorknob but not opening the door to leave just yet.

You’re making it too easy for him to make a fool out of you.

He chuckles, the sound deep and sultry. God, he sounds sexy. “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

You turn to look at him one last time, a scowl on your face. You can’t believe this is how things were going. His smug gaze drapes over you, making you feel even smaller.

Your shoulders slump, desperation taking over you in an instant as you look up at him. “Why do you do this to me?” you ask him quietly, all the fight and brattiness leaving your body at lightning speed.

You watch as his eyebrows raise in surprise once again. You continue before he can speak, “Do you even want me? Or do you just enjoy toying with me? Making yourself feel in control?”

The smug expression on his face falters, a confused frown creeping on his brows instead. “Hasn’t it been obvious?” he quietly asks, this time there’s no hint of sarcasm or smugness in his tone.

“No, I can’t say it has been,” you scoff. “You’ve confused me more than anything.”

Yoongi shakes his head as he steps even closer to you to the point your chest is pressed up against his solar plexus, his eyes never leaving yours. “Then you’re dumb. Extremely dumb.”

What does he mean by that? Is he confirming that he wants you? Is he confirming that he just sees this as a game?

You furrow your brows, staring up at him with big, questioning eyes and letting a soft sigh escape your lips.

His breath fans your face as he breathes, his chest slowly rising and falling against yours. “So? What’s it gonna be?” he quietly asks you after a moment of silence, your body heating up at his proximity. He licks his own lips as he stares at yours, eyes peeking back up at your desperate ones when you part your lips to say something.

“Please.”

The moment you say that, he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second. He lunges straight at you, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand and your waist with the other, pressing his lips to yours. You stumble back from the impact, your back colliding with his front door.

You didn’t expect him to kiss you.

But you’re not complaining.

Your hands move up to cup his face, pulling his face even closer as you kiss him back with equal fervor. His grip on you with both hands almost makes it seem like he’s scared to let go of you and it excites you even more.

He pushes his hips into yours and the moment you part your lips to moan, he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You moan again, at the taste of him. He grunts into your mouth as your hands move up, your fingers tugging on the hairs on the back of his head.

“Like my hair, do you?” he chuckles as he pulls away, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

You nod quickly, tilting your head back to give him easier access to your skin that’s begging to be kissed. “If you ever cut it, I’ll kill myself.”

He laughs at your ridiculousness, his hands dropping down to grip your waist tightly as he kisses down your jaw to your neck. You’re surprised he’s keeping his hands on your torso. Is he waiting for you to tell him it’s okay to touch more of your body?

You wonder how long he can go without losing control.

You lean your head back against the door, your eyes closing in bliss and quiet swear words leaving your mouth. He kisses his way back up to your lips, wasting no time as he plunges his tongue into your mouth again. His tongue attacks yours, as if it’s angry it’s taken this long. You don’t blame him.

You make out for what seems like hours, heavy breaths and the tension is making you want more, need more. You want to feel him, you want to taste him, you want to fuck him.

His hips grind into yours again, a soft groan leaving his lips at the friction as his erection starts inflating against your hip. You moan softly, your hand making its way down his stomach in the direction of his pelvis until your phone vibrates in your pocket.

You pull away from his lips, internally groaning as your hand retreats from his lower stomach. Second time that you were so close yet so far. His lips continue down your neck, gently licking at your skin.

“Don’t mark me,” you breathlessly tell him and he chuckles, giving you a mischievous look but he complies.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, confused as you stare at the caller ID. It’s Daniel’s mother. Why is she calling at this hour?

You pick up. “Hello?”

“Ah, Y/N, dear! Sorry to call you so late. I hope I didn’t wake you?” she says, her voice booming in your ear from the other end.

You try to compose yourself as Yoongi’s licking at your collarbones. “No, I just finished work.”

“Goodness, at this hour? You know you should really listen to Daniel. You work too hard for your own good,” she says, worry in her tone.

“It’s okay, really. I enjoy it. Is there a reason for your call?” you ask her, trying your best not to sound rude about it.

“Ah, yes. Daniel’s phone died so he couldn’t let you know, but work called him and he has to come in early tomorrow so he’s on his way back home right now. I gave him a bit of the casserole I made today. Have you eaten yet?”

“He’s coming home? Now?” you ignore her rambling and other questions, failing to hide the concern in your voice. Yoongi stops kissing and stares down at you, one eyebrow cocked. You have to harshly swallow down the whimper threatening to spill from your throat at the lack of his lips against your skin.

“Yes, he’s–”

“When did he leave?” you ask her, wincing as you feel Yoongi’s hands loosen their grip on you.

“Oh. About 5 minutes ago? He should be there in about 20 minutes.”

“Fuck,” you mouth, your eyes looking up at his as he realizes what’s going on.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. And thanks for the casserole,” you quietly say, listening as she babbles about how to heat it up and whatever. You quickly wish her a goodnight before hanging up.

You stand there in silence for a few seconds. “I have to go,” you quietly tell him, not making any moves to leave.

He nods, reaching up to rub the shell of your ear again, and it’s strangely soothing. “I already told you to go home, didn’t I?” he teases, “Before you so rudely told me to go fuck myself like the little brat you are.” He glances at the bulge in his pants, a defeated smile on his lips. “Guess I’ll have to now.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you think about the situation. You really want to stay. Should you just make up a lie to Daniel? What could you say? Would he get suspicious? Can’t you just–

“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice rings in your ear and he’s so close to you, you hear him inside your head. Pressed up against the door with his body against yours, reminding you of that day in his home office. “Just go home, Y/N,” Yoongi continues, flicking your forehead. You wince, rubbing your forehead as you glare at him.

“Once I walk out this door, you won’t treat me like I don’t exist, right?” you ask him, dropping your hand to the door handle and slowly opening the door as you watch him step back, his hands tucked into his pockets.

He shrugs his shoulders, his signature blank expression on his face. “No promises.”

“I’ll get my lick back if you do, Yoongi. I swear.”

He just smiles at your words, clearly not taking you seriously.

He doesn’t know how fucking serious you are. He wants to call you a brat? You’ll make sure you’re the most insufferable one there is.

You want to argue with him, yell at him, kiss him, provoke him until he pounds you silly but you can’t. You have to leave. Now.

You step out of his home and run to your car, looking over your shoulder in hopes he’s still at the door, watching you leave.

But he’s not.

•••

The following morning, Daniel drops you off at work. You make your way straight to your studio, hoping to bump into a certain someone. You’re basically done with your album, just tying up loose ends and putting dots on the i’s.

You hope he’ll come to your studio, chat you up, maybe even kiss you.

Delusional.

But nothing happens. You don’t see him. You don’t hear from him. For several days. But realistically speaking, why would he?

You knew this was going to happen. He’s proved himself to be an asshole time and time again.

Girl, he’s literally the CEO to one of the most successful record labels. Give him a break.

Of course wanting to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt, you naturally agree with your imaginary succubus. He doesn’t have a lot of free time plus he can’t risk anyone else finding out.

You drag your feet across the corridor, mentally preparing yourself to be put through a very boring meeting as usual.

You looked around the big white meeting room as you walked in, glancing around for an available seat. Spotting an empty chair next to Namjoon, you make your way towards it and settle down. Namjoon turns to you and greets you with a smile, “Goodmorning.”

You muster a forced smile in response, your mind preoccupied with the unexpected presence of Yoongi as you watch him stroll into the room. He takes his place at the head of the table without so much as sparing a glance in your direction.

Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to attend this seemingly random meeting regarding the new software. You haven’t seen him since the kiss, oh God, the kiss, and it’s been several days since.

Not a lot of free time but attending a random meeting with a shit-eating grin, eh? He’s clearly mocking you.

The sight of him instantly rushes the memories back to you, the taste of his tongue and his hands on your body like he was scared you’d leave. You can’t help but scoff inwardly at his nonchalant demeanor, though. He’s just focused on the bundle of papers in front of him. Asshole.

You can’t help but want to get your revenge, like you said you would. You’ve tried to be rude to him but he clearly doesn’t care. But when you see Yoongi taking a seat, you remember there’s one thing that he doesn’t play about.

And that’s work.

The project manager begins explaining various aspects of the new software, but your attention is elsewhere. Lost in your own thoughts, you barely register the information being presented. It isn’t until the project manager concludes their explanation that you raise your hand, seeking permission to voice your concerns.

You don’t give a fuck about the new software. You just want to piss Yoongi off.

“Excuse me,” you interject, capturing the attention of those in the room. As soon as Yoongi hears your voice, his eyebrows twitch as if he knew you would pull this stunt. He doesn’t look at you, though, not giving you the satisfaction of taking your bait. “Would it be possible for those of us who prefer the old software to keep using it?”

The manager looks taken aback by the question. “Why’s that? The new software offers a range of beneficial features and tools.”

You hesitate for a moment before responding. “I’m quite habitual.”

Yoongi, who has remained quiet until now, breaks his silence. He simply states, “No.”

Aha. Bait taken.

Your gaze snaps to Yoongi and your breath hitches in your throat when you see him already staring directly at you with his signature stoicism. His penetrating gaze makes it clear that challenging him would not be wise.

You try your absolute best to keep the satisfied smirk off your face as you retort, “Why?”

Yoongi’s expression remains unchanged but his eyes narrow slightly, conveying his irritation. He gives you a look that screams ‘don’t test me’, something you’re quickly growing very fond of.

“Because the new software has a feature that allows us to directly send files to each other without the need for extraction or emails, allowing us to work more efficiently,” he explains, calmly.

You mockingly scribble down Yoongi’s words on the notepad in front of you, trying to absorb the reasoning behind his decision. Glancing up at him, you let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, we’re not allowed to use what we feel comfortable with just because,” you pause as you glance down at the note, “it saves us an extra 20 seconds of work?”

Holy shit.

Everyone’s head snaps in your direction and you pretend not to notice.

Even Namjoon, seated next to you, widens his eyes in surprise of your sudden attitude change, aware of the consequences of challenging the boss in front of everyone.

Yoongi’s irritation simmers beneath the surface but he maintains his composure. He doesn’t let you get to him. He meets your gaze directly and responds with a measured tone, “Precisely.”

You mumble something under your breath but loud enough for the people around to hear gibberish escape your mouth.

It isn’t until Yoongi demands clarification that your heart skips a beat, “What was that?” he inquires, his voice carrying a warning tone.

Sensing the tension in the room, Namjoon discreetly shoves his knee into yours under the table, urging you to back down. However, your defiance prevails as you reply, “I said it’s unfair. But you know best, boss. If you think forcing our entire staff to learn a new software just because some people can’t handle extracting files onto a USB or sending them via email is beneficial, we’ll happily comply.”

You are on thin fucking ice, you know that?

Who cares? He has already put his hands on you, he won’t fire you.

Yoongi’s jaw clenches, anger bubbling up the back of his throat. Suppressing the urge to engage further, he addresses everyone around the table with a curt command, “Dismissed.”

You start gathering your stuff as everyone quickly heads out the room, not wanting to be around their boss after being provoked like that. Namjoon throws a glance your way, confused as to why you acted the way you did but you pretend you don’t notice as you rise to your feet, slinging your purse over your shoulder as you follow Namjoon towards the exit of the room.

“Not you.”

You stop in your tracks once you hear Yoongi speak up. You glance at Namjoon and he gives you an apologetic look as he exits the room because it’s clear who Yoongi is talking to.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn to face him, his eyes already on you like they’re trying to destroy you. You give him a defiant look as the rest of the people file out of the room and the last person closes the door behind them, leaving you alone with your boss.

“Stop doing whatever you think it is you’re doing.” He gets out of his seat and struts up to you, challenging you to back off and you don’t.

Your mischievous eyes glint, as you straighten your posture. You’re determined to ruffle his feathers, to push his buttons further so you feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A flicker of amusement dances in Yoongi’s eyes, mingling with a touch of exasperation. “Look at you. Didn’t you get mad at me for saying you’re in need of self-control?” he remarks, his voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and sarcasm.

You raise an eyebrow, smirk widening. “Ah, so you do remember everything that’s been said between us,” you retort, eyes dripping with defiance.

His brows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean but he impatiently gives up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I told you I’d get my lick back, Yoongi.”

“Lick back for what? You having to leave was not my fucking fault.” He’s growing more irritated and you’ve got him right where you want him.

“No, it wasn’t, but acting like I don’t exist is. You didn’t even look at me during the meeting until I started provoking you.”

“You think I have all the time in the fucking world for your games?” he grunts in response, shaking his head at how impossible you are.

“I’ve told you this before, Y/N. Listen very fucking well, ‘cause this is the last time I’m saying it.” He takes another step forward, the tips of your shoes touching. “I will not let anyone interfere with my work. So, this,” he says as he waves his hand in front of you, “keep your schemin’ away from my company building.”

You stare up at him with a blank expression, your eyes slowly narrowing with the most bratty look in your eyes you can muster, knowing once you say these next words with a seductive pucker of your lips, you’ll have the upperhand and you’ll have turned the tables.

“Make me.”

And with that, you spin on your heels and walk out of the room, leaving him fuming by himself.

•••

Another few days pass and still no Yoongi. He didn’t even confront you about your behavior the other day and it only makes you wanna act up even more.

What do you have to do for him to give you some damn attention?

You’re seated in front of your twin monitors again, lost in thought. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, still thinking about him until you hear a knock on your studio door. This pulls you out of your trance. You look over your shoulder and watch as Namjoon walks in.

You pause what you were doing and turn to him, “Hey.”

“Hey, are you hungry? I was about to head down to that sushi place down the street.” He struts further inside, his hand coming up to run through his perfectly parted hair.

You look over at the clock on your laptop before returning your attention to him. “Ah, you’re like a prayer being answered,” you hum as you stand up, grabbing your coat and draping it over your forearm.

He chuckles and holds his arm out in the opening of the doorway, motioning for you to leave first. At least Namjoon’s a gentleman. You walk out and tuck your phone into your pocket. He closes the door to your studio behind you and halts in his movements, “Sushi is the boss’ favorite. Should we ask him to tag along?”

You stop dead in your tracks. No. No, you shouldn’t ask him to tag along. You don’t want him to join you.

Yes, you do.

You shrug, “Sure, why not?” It’s not like you could tell Namjoon why you didn’t want your boss to join you for dinner.

Quick, think of an excuse so you don’t have to go.

You know damn well you want to go.

By the time you’ve snapped out of your thoughts, your feet have followed Namjoon all the way to the door to Yoongi’s studio.

Namjoon knocks twice, “It’s me,” he mumbles, patiently waiting for Yoongi to respond. A few seconds later, there’s a faint ‘come in’, making Namjoon push the door open.

The scene in front of you is surprising, to say the least.

There’s a woman sitting on Yoongi’s desk, right next to his mix console. Her hand is on his shoulder and he is leaned back into his chair, glancing up at her. You could only see the side of his face but the smile on his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

She’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a floral blouse that hugs her body beautifully. Her right leg is thrown over her left leg, causing her skirt to ride up a bit, exposing more of her toned legs.

Your eyes flicker between her hand on his shoulder and the way Yoongi is slouched in his chair, looking up at her as she’s telling him whatever it is she’s telling him.

What? Are you jealous? You literally have a boyfriend, get a grip.

The woman’s voice pulls you out of your trance, “Joon!” she squeals as she hops off the desk. She runs up to him and pulls him into a hug, making Yoongi turn his attention to you. The smile on his lips is gone and he adjusts himself, sitting straight up in his chair.

Namjoon gently pats the spot between her shoulder blades, “How have you been?” he asks her as she pulls away to look up at him.

You can’t bring yourself to care about their small talk, it serves as background noise while your eyes shift toward Yoongi. He’s staring straight at you.

After a while, the woman turns and waves at Yoongi, offering you a polite smile as she heads out the door. You stand there, listening to her Louboutins click against the floor of the company building, the sound becoming more and more distant.

His eyes linger on you before he tears them away to glance at Namjoon. “What’s up?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head to the side and cracking his neck.

“Are you hungry? Y/N and I were just about to head to that sushi place down the street,” Namjoon tells Yoongi, watching him turn back towards the mix console and giving the both of you his cold back.

“I already have dinner plans with Sarang,” he says, the clicking of his mouse filling the room.

“Oh, I see. Enjoy.” Namjoon nods in understanding and turns to head out the door but almost bumps into you, you hadn’t moved from your spot. Glued to the floor, lost in thought, mind racing. Who was that woman?

You snap out of your thoughts once Namjoon calls out your name.

Without another word, you turn on your heel and head out Yoongi’s studio, walking slower so Namjoon can catch up to you. When Namjoon is finally next to you, you start heading down the corridor.

“Their dragoneye rolls are the best, you need to try them.” Namjoon sounds excited about the food but you can’t bring yourself to think about anything besides what you just saw.

When you don’t respond, he glances at you. “Did you come by car? I can drop you off after if you need a lift home,” he offers, a smile on his lips as he turns to look at you.

You blink a few times before actually processing his words, “Oh, thank you, that’d be great,” you mumble, absentmindedly. You force a smile before staring back at the ground beneath your feet as you walk down the hall.

It’s quiet for a moment before you can’t stop yourself from asking, “Who was that?”

“Hm?” Namjoon sounds confused for a moment before continuing, “Oh, Sarang?” He thinks about his answer for a moment and then glances around the corridor, as if he’s making sure no one else is listening.

“His ex-wife.”

Oh.

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