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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.

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

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schemin’ | myg (m) 09

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.

genre: angst ; smut ; slow-burn

chapter warnings: explicit sexual content, flirty namjoon 😚, some deep talks, revealing secrets, questions answered (finally), infidelity (like hardcore cheating LMAOOOO), immorality, mentions of misogyny, mentions of sexual coercion (the daniel thing), boss/employee, unethical, kissing, unprotected sex (stay safe), oral sex (both f. & m. rec), facefucking, fingerfucking, face slapping (not hard), bit of saliva play, claiming, forceful restraint (no not like that), bit of edging, teasing, dirty talk, praise & degradation, strong language and a lotttt of swearing, cocky!yoongi, bratty!reader, sub!reader, dom!yoongi, crying, begging, kinda sadist!yoongi, creampie, minors DNI

category: series

wordcount: 8.7k

a/n: one more until we’ve made it to the end of schemin’, what a journey it’s been! i hope yall will stick around for more fics and stay to watch me grow as a writer. i appreciate the support uve given me so so much. hope u enjoy this chappie!!

— m.list & concept video

<- previous ; finale ->

chapter 9: cat got your tongue?

You slowly sneak out of the room about a minute after Yoongi does, warily looking around the corridor. You quietly close the door behind you and head down the hall again, still letting your eyes roam around the corridor until you bump into a brick wall.

The brick wall being Kim Namjoon.

Heat instantly rises to your cheeks and ears, eyes wide with shame and embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble as you take a step back from him, hoping he won’t smell the scent of sex on you, despite the fact he’s already being aware you just got fucked by the CEO. He literally saw you.

He has an apologetic smile on his face as he gives you a curt nod before walking around you, continuing his strut down the hall.

“Namjoon, wait,” you call out, turning your body to face him again. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and you’re convinced the amount of sweat your palms are producing could actually start dripping onto the tiles beneath your feet.

He spins on his heels to face you, his own ears red as he moves his hand up to scratch the back of his head with an air of awkwardness. He doesn’t say anything and that makes it twice as hard to say what you want to say.

“I think– uh… I think I owe you an explanation,” you say, uncertainty tinged in your tone and your eyes momentarily looking away from him before you glance back at him.

He shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets, straightening his back and shoulders. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. Don’t worry about it.”

“But you–”

“You don’t owe me an explanation on why you were…” He starts closing the distance between the two of you, looking around to make sure no one hears him as he continues, “…Fucking our boss but you might owe me an apology, though. The image is burned into the back of my eyelids,” he jokes, an attempt at dissolving the awkward air that has settled between the two of you.

You wince at his words, looking around the corridor as well to make sure no one is eavesdropping or walking by. Your gaze drops down his body before back up to his face, an apologetic look etched on your features.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. You won’t tell, right?” You trail off, voice getting quieter toward the end of the sentence. Your fingers nervously fidget with your phone, your stomach almost exploding with anxiety.

“Tell?” he repeats. “What am I, 15?” He shakes his head and takes another few steps closer to you, standing so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. “Your secret is safe with me. But you ought to be careful.”

Your eyes follow his every move, now shifting up to glance up at him through your wet lashes. You quietly sigh in response, nodding your head to indicate that you agree with him. Of course you know that. “And you ought to knock on doors,” you joke back.

“Oh, you’re definitely not one to talk about knocking on doors,” he chuckles, flashing you the prettiest dimples known to mankind as a smile stretches on his thick lips. “That studio never gets used, literally ever.” He shrugs and then leans forward, quietly saying the next few words into your ear, “Sorry for not considering the possibility of some people going at it during work hours because they couldn’t wait to get home.”

Has he always been this sexy? Damn.

The heat that had finally cooled off, instantly rushes to your cheeks again and your head snaps to look around the hall to make sure no one sees you two. You slap his chest and push him back, a playful scowl on your face. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the party to help out?” you grumble, pushing past him to make your way back to the rehearsal hall.

“So you and him can sneak out?” He quickly catches up with you. He reaches into his pocket and dumps confetti on your hair – the hair that Yoongi tried so hard to fix. You groan and punch him in the arm, fingers plucking at the confetti in your hair that you can’t see.

“We won’t,” you mumble as you finally approach the rehearsal hall, the loud music starting to drown out your voices.

“What a shame,” Namjoon chuckles as he scratches the back of his head, eyes not looking at you as he focuses on the booming practice room in front of him.

“What?” you ask, pinching your brows together as you slow down in pace to look at him. “That we’re not leaving?”

He glances at you, then his head turns to check the corridor again before he simply shrugs his shoulders. “That the boss called dibs on you.”

With that, he walks into the room before you do, heading straight for the bar.

Your lungs collapse within your ribcage as you watch his retreating figure, your jaw all the way on the fucking floor. You stand there for a moment to gather your thoughts, did he just… imply what you think he implied?

If Yoongi hadn’t pulled you into that room, you definitely should’ve let Namjoon hit.

You shake your head free of the intrusive thoughts, convincing yourself what Namjoon said was simply a joke to get you flustered. Yeah, that’s it.

You shove your phone into your pokcet to stop your fidgeting but it doesn’t do much when you start absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, the shirt that absolutely reeks of sweat and Yoongi. You don’t mind, though.

You finally spot Yoongi across the room but he’s busy chatting up random producers and fellow artists. The wetness pooling between your thighs is uncomfortable, a constant reminder of the fact you’d just been fucked by everyone’s boss.

You avoid Yoongi for the time being as you head to the snacks buffet on the side, eyes trailing the sweet and savory delicacies and your mouth waters at the sight.

It’s the thought of Yoongi’s dick in your mouth that makes it water, not Belgian chocolate and Haribo gummies.

A deep breath fills your lungs before you exhale and reach out, hand hovering over the snacks as you stay indecisive about what to pick.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Go,” someone whispers in your ear with a hand on your elbow, but they’re gone as quickly as they came. You turn to look over your shoulder and you watch Yoongi disappear into the crowd again.

You ignore the butterflies that are tearing your stomach open at the sensation of his breath hitting your ear and neck. You huff and quickly grab a hand full of random packaged snacks, stuffing them into the pocket of your jacket before you turn and exit the practice room.

•••

Your foot impatiently taps against the ground beneath it, warily looking around as you wait for Yoongi’s arrival. You’ve been standing outside for 5 minutes when you hear the noise of a car unlocking in the distance. You quickly turn to look over your shoulder and watch as Yoongi comes up behind you, winks at you and makes his way to his car.

You just watch him strut to his car before getting into it, patting the roof of his car to motion for you to get in.

You quickly make your way to his car, footsteps loud as you approach his passenger’s seat, swinging the door open. “You couldn’t just drive to me?” you grumble as you climb into the seat, wincing at the stickiness between your thighs when you buckle your seatbelt.

He chuckles as he apologetically rubs your knee, tossing his phone into the cupholder near the gear shift as he starts the car. You’ve seen his car in the parking lot before, of course, how could you not? Anyone would notice a matte black Bentley anywhere. But still, sitting inside of it is surreal.

“Could you drive me home first? I just wanna get some stuff,” you carefully say, heart pounding in your throat as having to ask him something like that. But you don’t want to come tonight with your clothes smelling like sex. You just want to get some clothes.

For some reason asking him to absolutely destroy your pussy is easier than asking him to drive you home, though.

“Of course,” he replies as he turns the key in the ignition. The soft humming of the engine coming to life makes you realize this is real life, this is happening.

“You know, I’ve been wondering about something,” he starts, glancing at you as he reverses out of the parking spot. You turn to look at him and it’s like he’s asking for permission to ask you a question.

He’s pretty cute.

So, he feels comfortable putting you on the spot and accusing you of not giving a fuck about your boyfriend but now he wants to ask for permission to speak?

You nod, encouraging him to speak.

“With how big of a brat you are, I doubt you started avoiding me simply because your boyfriend didn’t like me. Is there more to the story?” he asks with his gaze still on the road, the seat belt straining against his chest allows you to see the outline of his soft pecs and you have to fight every bone in your body not to straddle him right now.

But then you process his words. And it reminds you of that night. “Oh, no, not really,” you mumble as you glance out the window, fingers picking at the loose flesh around your nails.

“You’re lying to me,” he states but his voice is soft, almost as if he’s gently reminding you of something instead of telling you off. You slowly turn your head to glance at him again. He’s got his elbow leaning on the edge of the window, rubbing his lips whilst his other hand is wrapped around the steering wheel.

“He just,” you say after a deep sigh, “told me off.” Your throat tightens as you remember the events of that night, the venomous words climbing back into your head and contaminating all your other thoughts.

Yoongi’s brows twitch as your words. “What did he say?”

You contemplate telling him. Would telling him really make a difference?

Yes, it would. Tell him.

You’re pathetic. Just looking for pity.

He asked.

You avert your gaze, staring at the road ahead of you. “He said male producers and CEOs like you take advantage of women because women like me make it so easy to.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds which is what makes you glance at him. You watch in real time as anger takes over his features, a frown on his brows and a clench in his jaw. Your eyes jump to the steering wheel as his knuckles noticeably turn white, his fist tightening around the rim.

It’s silent for a few moments.

“Do you feel like that?” he asks, quietly.

“Feel like what?”

“Like I took advantage of you.” His voice is low as he questions the situation once again, a question that’s clearly been bothering him. Your eyes trail to his face once again but he’s not looking at you, eyes still focused on the road.

“No.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else to that but you’re the one that has a problem with the silence that settles around you.

“Since we’re asking questions,” you start, “did you divorce her because she wanted to open your marriage too?” you ask carefully, not sure if he even wants to talk about it. With you, anyway.

The car slows down at a red light and he glances over at you but you’re not looking at him, busy staring at your fidgeting fingers in your lap.

He stares for what seems like hours before turning his attention back to the road.

“Yes.”

The rest of the ride to your home is quiet.

•••

“I won’t be long,” you say once he comes to a halt in front of your home, the clicking of your seat belt unbuckling makes him look at you.

“Actually, mind if I come with?” he asks but he’s already unbuckling his seatbelt. Words are lost in your throat, you can’t seem to decline or accept.

You get out of the car, nerves suddenly bubbling in your stomach as you slam the car door shut and watch as he copies you.

“What? Never had a visitor?” he teases.

“I’ve had visitors before. I’ve never had a world renowned CEO, producer, musician, millionaire visit before,” you snark, reaching for your keys as you approach your front door.

He just smirks as he follows close behind you, hands tucked into his pockets as you unlock the entrance to your place.

You make it into your home and desperately hope it’s somewhat clean and presentable as you kick your shoes off. He quickly copies you, neatly placing his shoes by the accent table as he closes the door behind you two.

“Want something to drink?” you ask nervously, not even sure whatever’s in your fridge and hoping to God you can even offer him something drinkable.

Thankfully, he shakes his head, his eyes politely scanning the walls and furniture. “Show me your bedroom,” he says after gently placing his hand on the small of your back.

You gladly accept his request and lead him to your bedroom, thanking the Lord when you remember you actually made your bed before heading to work this morning.

You take off your cardigan as you walk in, heading towards the bathroom that’s located inside of your bedroom. “I’ll be right back,” you murmur as you take some clothes from your dresser on your way there but you’re stopped when Yoongi abruptly grabs you by the waist from the back, placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Yoongi?” you mumble, trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“You should leave him.”

The words take you by surprise but not because of what he said. Because you already know that. Figuring out why he says it now stumps you. This is just after finding out one of the things Daniel has said to you, what would he do if he found out about everything?

Your silence speaks volumes.

You quietly continue looking for more of your stuff, trying to keep your breath steady. His hands are on the edge of your dresser, on either side of your waist, caging you in. You’re not sure whether your breathlessness is because of his proximity or his words.

“Do you love him?” His voice is soft and sincere, his breath tickling your neck. The distant scent of his familiar minty toothpaste and a hint of chocolate enters your nostrils.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before you turn your head, looking over your shoulder to face him and quickly realizing how close he’s actually standing. You tilt your chin up to be able to look at him better, his face mere centimeters away from yours as he stares you down.

But the air isn’t the same. This isn’t sexual tension. Yoongi’s expression is serious and there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on.

A heavy silence envelops around the two of you for a few moments before you decide to speak up.

“I don’t know, okay?” you start, “I guess I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.” You think that’s the best way to describe your feelings towards Daniel.

“I do,” he mumbles under his breath, making you playfully hit his bicep.

“He saved me.” No matter how you feel about him, you feel like you have to defend Daniel. He did take care of you all those years.

“Meaning?”

You fully turn your body to face him, the edge of the dresser digging into the small of your back. “He basically kept me from going homeless, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him now that my career is taking a turn, how would that make me look? I owe him,” you explain quietly, your hands making their way to the dresser behind you, resting them next to Yoongi’s hands, on each side of your body.

“You don’t owe him shit,” he snaps, his tone oozing straight anger and his eyes burning with frustration. His words are rough but his face is soft, the puffs of air leaving his mouth gently graze your lips in the meantime.

“He’ll probably suspect me of dropping him for you. What if he tries to take you down? He knows where you live now.” You’d been giving it some thought lately and that seems to be the most likely route for Daniel to take.

But Yoongi just shrugs his shoulders, another indicator that he just doesn’t give a fuck. “I can handle a fucking loser trying to ruin my career with no evidence whatsoever.”

“Don’t call him that,” you mumble.

Why are Stockholm Syndrome symptoms suddenly forcing its way out of your mouth?

You’ve literally called him a fucking loser yourself. Get off your moral high horse.

“Y/N,” he starts and you can see him carefully choosing his words, “I don’t even know half the fucked up things he’s said to you but they aren’t things you say to someone you love.”

A lump forms in your throat, the rhythm of your heartbeat faltering for a moment as you listen to him.

“Fuck this whole ‘he’ll think I dumped him because my career is taking a turn’ bullshit, you’ve had a steady income for the past 8 months. You could’ve left him whenever you wanted.” His tone is coated with genuineness, voice so soft that you’re convinced your ears are being kissed by butterflies.

You process what he’s saying and he’s right, you know he is.

He concludes, “You don’t owe him and you definitely do not owe him your body or your love.”

You swallow down the cry that’s threatening to rip through your throat as you listen to him, biting down on your bottom lip to stop the quiver.

His eyes boring into yours almost becomes painful and it makes you look away, turning your head to the side as you stare at your wall to your left.

Your voice cracks with vulnerability when you finally tell him the truth. You clear your throat and say, “I fell out of love with him a while ago and after his behavior lately, I just want to make a run for it.”

Worry etches onto his face and he tilts his head to the side slightly. “Why? Is he violent?” he asks, carefully.

You shake your head at his words. “No, nothing like that.” You continue to stare at the wall. “But when I rejected his attempts at having sex with me and his reaction to that was throwing a tantrum and tell me my boss would never fuck me, I figured it’s only a matter of time before the Daniel I knew and loved is gone.”

The moment the words leave your lips, the room falls dead silent. In your peripheral vision you can see him staring at you but you can’t make out what he’s thinking. Not like you’ve ever been able to.

When the silence drags on for longer than you would find normal, you glance at him for a moment and look away again.

He’s fucking fuming.

His eyes are big with anger and his brows are scrunched together as if he’s trying to figure out whether he just heard you correctly.

The time to say something is right now.

You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts and finally turn to look at him. “I want to leave him, but I don’t know how.”

He stares you down for a moment longer before parting his lips to say, “That’s okay. You’ll figure it out one way or another.” He reaches up to cup your face and tilt your face up to look at him, the entire galaxy sparkling in his onyx eyes. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

A soft smile stretches onto your lips as you listen to him, your heart exploding into a million pieces and each little piece floats around his figure, reminding you that he’s quickly occupying your heart.

Snap out of it before you get emotional and sappy.

“Because whatever I want, I get, right?” you tease, watching as he physically relaxes at the fact that you’re able to joke around.

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head with a soft smile on his pink lips. “Exactly.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want too,” you say as you poke his chest, watching as it doesn’t phase him in the slightest. “So what do you want?”

He blinks at you, his signature blank expression making a full comeback when the next few words leave his mouth.

“I want to fuck you in that bastard’s bed.”

Oh.

He says it so nonchalantly, like asking you what you’d like to drink and it knocks the air out of your lungs. You part your lips to make a comeback, to flirt back, to tease him, to accept him, to reject him, to say literally anything. But you can’t.

You just stare up at him with big eyes, lips twitching every now and then but not a single word on your tongue for him.

He slowly tilts his head to the side after several moments of pure silence, leaning in closer so you have no choice but to stare back into his feline eyes as they flicker with mischief. “Cat got your tongue?”

You finally speak up and say, “That why you invited yourself in?” you quip, pushing yourself off the dresser and fully closing the distance between you two, chest pressed straight into his solar plexus.

“One of the reasons,” he replies as he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you towards the bed. You glance at the clock hanging up on your wall above your door, 3:45PM. Daniel isn’t going to be back until at least 9-10PM.

He spins around whilsts still holding onto your waist, pushing you back until your calves hit the edge of your bed. He licks his lips as he glances down at you through half-lidded eyes, a smirk on his lips that could make anyone want to pounce him.

This is so wrong.

Your fingers subtly reach for the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up and pulling it off your body. You throw it somewhere on the floor, eyes still on him. His eyes instantly drop down to eye your body, the pastel blue bra wrapped around your bust perfectly complimenting your skin complexion.

Your fingers tug your pants down, letting it pool around your ankles on the floor. You take him by surprise when you reach for the front of your bra, undoing the clasp that’s nestled in between your breasts instead of at the back.

Your breasts bounce free and it’s like Yoongi has completely forgotten about the fact that you have eyes. You sling your bra off your shoulders and toss it somewhere behind you. His gaze is glued to your breasts as he slowly reaches up to cup one but he stops his hand mid-air. He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with the hope of permission.

“I just let you bend me over a desk and fuck me at work, why wouldn’t I want you to touch my tits?” you say with a quiet giggle, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and bringing his hand closer to your breast.

“Some people have sensitive breasts,” he says, grumpily as he starts kneading your left breast, thumb circling your nipple.

As you stare at him, you lean your chin forwards and stimulate your saliva glands. You gather saliva in your mouth, holding out your tongue right above the nipple under his thumb. You let your saliva drip off your tongue and leak onto your nipple, watching as it rolls down the skin of your breast to his thumb.

His eyes shoot up at yours, his tongue swiping along his lips as he starts rolling your saliva around your erect nipple.

You hiss at the stimulation, your eyes glancing down at your breast in his hand. He slowly pushes you down onto the bed, his hand never leaving your bosom as if his hand is glued to it.

Once your back hits the mattress and your neck is on top of your soft pillows, he climbs on top of you and nestles his hips in between your thighs. You watch as he latches his lips onto your other breast, tongue swirling around. You arch your back off the bed, your belly fully pressed into him as a soft moan erupts from your throat.

Your attention is disrupted when you feel a pressure against your sex, a soft gasp leaving your lips when you look down at him. His lips never leave your breast and his eyes stay closed as he sucks gently, his other hand has travelled down your body and his fingers have slowly started rubbing delicate circles on your pussy through the fabric of your panties.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, your hips slowly starting to grind into his hand for more friction, more attention, just more.

He pushes you back down into your mattress with his palm, lifting his head as he releases your breast from his mouth before he peeks at you through his eyebrows. “Use your words, Y/N.”

You glance down at him, his intense gaze throws you all the way back to that first time you met him. His eyes are just as intense, just as black, just as gorgeous.

Your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, your eyes involuntarily scanning his entire face. There are so many things you want to do that you don’t even know where to begin.

He crawls up your body until his face is directly hovering above yours. You let out a content sigh as you slide your hands up up his chest, rubbing all around over the fabric of his dress shirt.

“Kiss me first,” you say, hands gently massaging his shoulders and feeling him tense under your palms. He’s not hiding his feelings as well as he thinks he is.

“Kiss me first, what?” he purrs, moving his hand up and rubbing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

You grunt in annoyance, “Kiss me first, please.”

A smirk creeps on his lips but he doesn’t waste any time as he leans down and captures your lips with his. Your eyes flutter shut automatically and you melt into your mattress, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as you allow yourself to feel whatever it is you’re feeling in the moment. Revenge? Lust? Love?

Whatever it is, it has you floating on clouds. The weight of his body on yours makes you realize this isn’t a dream, it’s real life. You’re trapped under him, with nowhere to go and there’s absolutely nowhere else you’d rather be than right here.

When he pulls away, he looks into your eyes and his hand gently wraps around your breast again whilst grinding his sex into yours, causing you to gasp softly.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you want?” He rolls your erect nipple between his index finger and thumb, watching as you quietly squirm under him, leaning down and filling your neck with smirk-filled kisses.

“I want you to,” you pause, “I want you to do to me what you wanted to do to me that day on set.”

Record scratch.

Everything stops.

He’s not rolling your nipple around anymore, he’s not kissing your neck anymore, he’s not gently grinding into you anymore. He just stops.

For a moment, you’re worried, panic rumbling in your chest and whatever sound is threatening to spill from your throat, is harshly being swallowed down by all the power you can muster.

He raises his face from the crook of your neck and he finally looks at you. There’s a heaviness to his breathing, his pupils are dilated and there’s a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. His pretty lips are swollen from all that kissing and the sight in front of you knocks the air straight out of your body.

“Is everything oka– what the hell?” you start but confusion quickly takes over you as you’re dragged all the way down to the edge of your bed. You gasp at the abrupt movement and look down as Yoongi has suddenly appeared between your thighs, knees on the floor.

He brings his hands up and slides them up and down your thighs before pushing them back. He inhales a deep breath before pushing your panties to the side, quietly cursing at the sight of your sticky sex. He licks a stripe up your slit, gathering your slick onto his tongue and moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, just like I said,” he grunts before licking another stripe up your pussy, “too fucking good for a brat.” He slides his tongue in between your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit and gently sucking on it.

You gasp, hands instantly flying to grip at his long black locks. “Wait!” you yelp but it’s no use, he’s already devouring you like you’re his last meal and you swear you see every glowing celestial body in the Milky Way on the back of your eyelids every time you blink.

You grind your hips up into his mouth, hearing him chuckle against your skin as he lets you do whatever you please, he realizes trying to hold you down is useless.

His mouth knows no mercy, licking and sucking as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him. His name rolls off your tongue so well and if you weren’t so aroused, you’d be embarrassed at how needy and desperate you sound.

There’s a sudden intrusion and you quickly realize his long fingers have been pushed into you, massaging your slick walls. A sharp gasp rips through your throat as his tongue assault your clit and his fingers fuck into you.

His mouth never lets up, sucking you for all you’re worth and sending lava down all your veins. Your head falls back, sinking into the pillows as you continue to tug on his beautiful hair. You want him even closer, even deeper, just more.

His lips retreat from your clit, his gaze shifting up to look at you squirming and writhing because of him. He continues to fuck you with his fingers whilst he takes his mouth off you, crawling up your body with his fingers still thrusting into you. He lies beside you, close to you – like during the shoot – and licks your arousal off his lips before pressing them in a sloppy kiss to yours.

You welcome the wet kiss, moving your hand up to cup the back of his head. He licks into your mouth and you moan at the taste, a hint of chocolate and your arousal lingering on his tongue.

His hand slams into your sex, the wet noises and your moaning against his lips are the only sounds you hear and the only sounds he cares about.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty,” he grunts as he pulls away from your lips, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

“I bet you say that to–”

You can’t even finish your sentence when Yoongi pulls his fingers out of your aching pussy and forces them into your mouth, shutting you up for now. You yelp as the tips of his fingers hit the back of your throat, dragging them down your tongue to spread your slick onto your wet muscle.

“I’m sick of your attitude,” he snaps, your big eyes staring up into his frustrated ones. He holds onto the eye contact for as long as he can as you suck on his fingers, moaning softly at the taste of your own pussy.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a loud pop and immediately pushes himself off your bed. He stands fully clothed in front of you whilst you’re still sprawled out in front of him on your bed, buttnaked.

“Get on your fucking knees, Y/N.” He starts unbuckling his belt with a quickness that has your breath hitched in your throat but you comply, scooting off the bed and settling on your knees in front of him without another word.

“You gonna fuck my face?” You peek up at him through your lashes, your hands neatly placed in your lap as he unzips and unbuttons his pants, leaving them loosely around his hips.

He ignores your question, not paying you any mind. You impulsively grab onto the hem of his slacks to slide them down his legs but he quickly slaps your hand away.

“You don’t deserve to see me naked,” he adds as he pulls out his hardened dick, still sticky with your own arousal from when he fucked you an hour ago. He starts unbuttoning his black dress shirt but leaves it on, just to make sure it’s not in the way for when he absolutely demolishes your throat.

You observe his dick with an extraordinary heat bursting in the pit of your stomach, unable to tear your eyes away. It’s the first time you can really clearly see his dick and you’re already salivating.

He places his hand flat on your cranium and pushes his thumb against your chin, making you open up your mouth to him.

Without so much as a warning, he forces his dick into your mouth and holds your head in place, the head of his dick slamming into your soft palate as he mercilessly fucks your face. Your hands fly up to his upper thighs, nails digging into the fabric of his pants as you try to steady yourself from the momentum of his thrusts.

“Always running your fucking mouth,” he groans as he throws his head back, the sounds of your gagging and saliva droplets splattering against your thighs being disgustingly loud.

You tap his thigh twice in hopes he understands and he does, he pulls right out of your mouth and stares down at you. His eyes trail the string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his dick whilst you try to catch your breath.

Both times that you crossed the line with him, he’d fix your face and clean up your makeup. However, this time is absolutely useless. Your makeup is utterly fucked, mascara smudged in black streaks down your face, the remnants of your lipliner all over your upper lip and chin.

“You look so pretty like this.” Is all he says when he decides you’ve taken enough breaths before he shoves his dick right back into your mouth which makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to focus on not gagging. “It’s like my dick belongs in that filthy mouth of yours.”

All the sounds that want to erupt from your throat whether that be cries, moans or screams, are forcefully pushed back down your throat by his dick.

“Eyes on me, angel.”

His voice booms in your ears and you’re convinced your eardrums have exploded at how loud he sounds. He isn’t even close and he isn’t even loud but whenever he says anything sexy, you swear he’s talking straight to your soul, his voice is inside of your head, his presence is all around you

And he’s got your soul in his grasp, his hands tightly wrapped around it, the hands that you forced him into wrapping around you. You fed the chaos in his soul and now you’re facing the consequences. You’ve never cared much for consequences.

Your teary eyes glance up at him, involuntarily blinking repeatedly to stop your vision from becoming blurry but nothing helps as long as his dick hits the back of your throat.

“That’s it, fuck.” His hips stutter as he makes eye contact with you. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll cum in no time,” he adds, voice wavering before a soft moan follows his words.

You innocently blink up at him as you take what he gives you. Fucking your mouth is his way of finally shutting you up and it’s exactly what you’ve been pushing him to do.

He abruptly pulls out of your mouth, watching as you gasp for air. His dick is completely lathered in your saliva and he loves it, by the looks of it as his eyes scan the string of your spit still connected to his dick. “Are you on birth control?”

The question takes you by surprise for a moment as you continue to steady your breathing, nodding your head to wordlessly answer his question.

“Will you let me cum inside of you?”

The air you so desperately tried to get back, knocks out of your lungs all over again as you listen to his request. Your stomach clenches, your intestines knot around each other, your heart jolts against your ribcage.

You quickly nod your head to his question. Disgustingly, there’s nothing more you want.

He hunches over, wraps his hands around your biceps and yanks you up to your feet. You let out a surprised gasp at his strength until you realize you’ve already been thrown onto your bed when your back hits the soft material of your mattress.

You wipe your saliva with the back of your hand and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch his every move. He doesn’t waste any time as he drags you all the way to the edge of your mattress again, this time standing in between your legs. He holds your thighs apart, each hand wrapping around your calves.

He lets go of one of your legs to position himself, guiding his dick to your sex. He rubs the head of his dick in between your sticky folds, making you whine at his teasing. “Aht, aht,” he retorts, wordlessly telling you to stop your whining.

You scowl at him but not for long when he slides right into you, your eyes going wide and a yelp leaving you at the delicious intrusion. He grunts as he bottoms out, head thrown back as he takes the time to collect himself.

Your eyes trail down his face to his throat, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down and his face is scrunched in pleasure.

“Pussy too fucking good for an insufferable brat,” he grunts as he finally looks down, returning the eye contact.

You pinch your brows together as you glare up at him, parting your lips to shoot a comeback at him but the words fall apart on your tongue as he starts thrusting into you.

You whimper his name and he just nods. He mockingly nods at your pathetic cries and whimpers as he starts lifting the one leg he’s still holding. He pushes it further back toward your own torso to spread you even wider before he picks up the pace and starts fucking into you like he has somewhere to be, his free hand coming down to rub barely-there, teasing circles onto your pulsating clit.

“Yoongi!” you cry out. He chuckles at your helplessness, he just watches as you squirm under him. Who knew someone who enjoyed running their mouth so much would be so sensitive?

“If you’re going to act like a brat, at least take it like one.” He retreats his fingers and starts taking his black dress shirt off, wiggling it off his shoulders and tossing it to the side.

You almost moan at the sight of his bare chest, your hand reaching out to touch him. You trail your hand down his stomach, fingers gently grazing his soft honey skin. Finally touching his bare skin has your blood pumping through your veins at maximum speed.

He wickedly smirks down at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement as he watches you scramble to touch his skin. He’s enjoying this.

Yoongi brings his hand back down to your sex to continue his torturous teasing on your clit, watching as you try to buck your hips into his hand for more friction but he just presses you down by your pelvic bone. “Just sit still and take it.”

Your hand reaches between your thighs, wanting to relieve yourself but thinking he’d let you do that is one of your dumber ideas.

He drops your leg and instead grabs both your wrists, pinning them against your stomach to keep you restrained as he continues to fuck into you.

“Please!” you whimper as tears start streaming down the sides of your face, trickling down your temples and into your hairline. With every thrust, his pelvis barely grazes your clit and it’s driving you insane. “Please. Please, I’ll do anything. Please.” You’ve already been robbed of your orgasm and he won’t even let you get yourself there because you brought it upon yourself.

An evil smirk creeps onto his lips as he watches you fall apart under him, writhing as you try to free your wrists from his grasp, satisfaction etched on his face at his victory. He finally broke you.

“I don’t know, I’m really enjoying the view right now.” He lets his eyes roam your pathetic face, down to your breasts bouncing from the impact of his thrusts, down to watch how his dick constantly disappears inside of you. “Besides, didn’t you say you weren’t ever going to beg me for anything ever again?”

“Yoongi, please! Please,” you sob, eyes rolling to the back of your head which makes you close them.

“Hey,” he pauses, his thrusts also coming to a halt. He brings one of his hands up while the other keeps your wrists restrained, and pats your jaw a few times, not hard but not soft either. “Eyes on me, Y/N.”

Your eyes lazily crack open as you glare at him, that’s when you see him smirking again before he nods. “Atta girl,” he says as he finally lets go of your wrists and flicks his tongue up the pad of his thumb before bringing it down to furiously rub your clit.

His single touch electrifies your entire body, all your veins bursting with a million volts. You push your cranium further into your mattress, your arms coming up to squeeze the sheets on each side of your head as you take his addicting torture without another word but with a whole lot of pathetic whimpering and pornographic moaning.

He wickedly grins at how you’re starting to come undone under him, using one of his hands to tug his pants further down his legs before ditching his boxers too, still not messing up the pace of his thrusts. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I,” you pause, shaking your head as you try to get the words out. “I love it so much.”

“Hm,” he hums as he casually starts picking up the pace of his hips, bringing your leg up against his chest and the single switch in position has him hitting you even deeper, his other hand coming up to massage your bouncing breast in his hand. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

You want to provoke him, say another name, say your own name, say anything else but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else but him. And you do.

“You.”

He nods again as he now returns his focus to his thumb that’s circling your clit, speeding up as he pushes you toward your orgasm. He retreats his hand from your breast, moving it up your thigh to your calve that’s pressed into his chest. He gives the side of your leg a soft kiss but never breaks eye contact with you.

He can tell your orgasm is approaching fast by the way your thighs clench and your walls tighten around him. “You gonna cum all over me?”

You furiously nod, trying to stop your legs from violently jerking as your orgasm builds up in the pit of your stomach.

“You want it really bad, don’t you?” he mockingly says. The way he says it with so much smugness on his face, so much cockiness in his tone and so much arrogance in the way he fucks you drives you up the fucking wall but much to your surprise, he doesn’t torture you any further. He thrusts into you with twice as much fervor, his thumb rubs your clit just the way you like it, his own throat letting moans spill at the way your walls tighten around him.

Finally, the knot in your stomach snaps and your brain explodes with incredible amounts of dopamine as you finally orgasm, your second orgasm of the day hitting you twice as fucking hard.

The pathetic sobs that make your entire body shake like a leaf in the wind would embarrass you on any other day but right now your mind is clouded with Yoongi and only Yoongi. He already knows the effect he has on you, you’ve stopped caring at this point.

He fucks you through your orgasm as if he’s got something to prove to you, your wailing encouraging him to fuck you harder with each passing second.

His own breaths are getting heavier, his thrusts inconsistent and his dick is twitching between your walls. “Where,” he pauses, “where can I cum?”

“I already told you,” you reply right away, wrapping your legs around his waist to cage him in.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks you, trying to slow down his thrusts to get your confirmation first.

“I thought this pussy belonged to you? Prove it, then.” Is all you say and it sends Yoongi right over the edge because right as the words leave your mouth, warm liquid shoots straight into you. He paints your walls white and swear words fall from his lips as he continues to fuck his load into you.

More moans spill from you as he rides out his own high, his head thrown back, hair sticking to his sweaty skin and his chest dramatically rising and falling. You never want to forget the sight in front of you.

After a couple more heavy breaths and his final few sloppy thrusts, Yoongi collapses on top of you. His heavy breath tickles your neck and it makes you squirm, but the soft kisses he’s pressing to your neck has your mind travelling to different places, no longer paying attention to anything else.

After a while he rolls off of you, lying on his back next to you. You lie there with your legs still spread, his cum leaking out of you and your own lungs searching for air. Your eyes trail to his figure next to you, eyes glued to his rising and falling chest.

He turns his head to look at you, a wicked grin on his lips and you quickly realize in this moment that you’re only bratty when you’re horny.

Because him just looking at you has you thinking you’re back in that backroom from your battle rap shows and Yoongi just walked in to speak to you for the first time.

Your cheeks instantly heat up and you avert your gaze, your forearm subtly draping over your chest in an attempt to hide your naked body from him.

Girl, he just came inside of your pussy. Be serious.

“Nah,” he mumbles as he reaches for your wrist and tugs on it. “Don’t hide yourself now. All that shit you were talking.”

You grumble and move to turn your back to him but he stops you, pulling you into his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?” he huffs.

You glance up at him but can’t stare for very long when his face closes in on yours. Your eyelids flutter close when he presses his lips to yours. You fall onto your back as he moves to hover over you, one of his hands resting on your waist. You move your own hands up to cup his face, melting into his kiss and allowing yourself to forget about everything.

He hums into the kiss, and you can feel him smiling against your lips which makes your insides burst with butterflies. It’s pathetic how much he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

“Déjà vu?” he chuckles against the skin of your throat, making you squirm a bit at the tickle. You quickly make the connection in your brains that he’s referring to the music video shoot.

“Yeah but the only difference is that–” You abruptly cut yourself off.

He climbs up to hover his face over yours again, his black eyes taking over your vision like you’re being stared down by a lion. “What is it?”

“Nevermind.”

“Y/N, tell me.”

You take a moment to think about how you’re going to say what’s been on your mind ever since the shoot. “I was a bit conflicted. I thought that I was either incredibly unsexy or that you had a micropenis. I couldn’t feel anything,” you laugh, pointing out how you didn’t feel anything poking you that day.

His face visibly shifts from confusion to relief as he quietly laughs, shaking his head. “That why you tried provoking me by saying I had a micropenis?”

A sheepish look creeps onto your face as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You don’t say or do anything to confirm his words, which makes him believe his own speculation even more.

“Trust me, you were definitely not unsexy. On the contrary, actually. The reason why you didn’t feel anything is because I asked them to use one of those erection barriers on me so I wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. It’s some sort of squishy padding that they sew into underwear.”

Your heart jolts so hard against your lungs that you’re convinced you’ve almost broken a few ribs. Your eyes dramatically widen at what he just told you. The thought of him being that considerate hadn’t even crossed your mind. “Really?”

He simply nods, his hands softly trailing your bare waist down to your hip, massaging your skin.

You stare at him for a few moments and it looks like he’s actually being sincere. You can’t help it, you’re a bit surprised. You know he’s been very considerate and caring so you hate that you’re shocked now but you really had no idea.

And you wish you didn’t because the familiar feeling of your heart pounding, your throat going dry and your entire body heating up tells you that you feel more for this man than a simple crush. Fuck.

After you’ve composed yourself, you stay quiet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and you don’t want him to think you’re one.

Only then do you realize he’s been staring you down with a shit-eating smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

“What?” you mumble, lazy eyes looking into his. You want to scowl at him but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even bring yourself do that.

“Your makeup is so fucked,” he laughs, shaking his head as his eyes trail the makeup-stained apples of your cheeks.

You grunt in annoyance, “Well? Aren’t you going to clean me up like you like to do?” You move your hand down his face to his neck and rest it on his bare chest as you blink up at him.

“Why would I do that?” he asks before adding, “I’m not done with you.”

Fuck.

Your breath is stuck in your throat. Is he crazy?

Well, he may be crazy but you’ve got to be batshit fucking deranged.

Because not even 5 minutes later, you let him turn you over, yank your ass up by your hips and fuck you into your boyfriend’s bed for another hour before he takes you to his own home to fulfill his promise of fucking you on every piece of furniture in his home.

And he does.

<- previous ; finale ->

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