yooboobies · 2 days ago
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vampire prince...♡ {cr. namuspromised}
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hobeah · a day ago
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"I'm happy." - Jung Hoseok (after making history)
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agustdi · 23 hours ago
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♡︎ — nam; indigo
𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗱 ♡
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augustbutwinter · 21 hours ago
on the line 1 | knj
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title: on the line 1 pairing: knj x reader genre: public transportation fluff wc: ~250 warnings: NONE summary: you've had a long day. maybe it's okay to close your eyes just for a second on the train home.
a/n: @sahmfanficbts - this is for you! most of it was written a while ago, maybe you remember it. @kkulfm-2 thank you so much for beta-reading <3 This is part of a little multi-group-series, featuring bts' namjoon, day6' sungjin and stray kids' chan. it's my first time writing outside of bts and i hope you'll like it. i'd love to hear your thoughts. Masterlist - on the line masterlist - read on ao3
„Excuse me?“ 
Slowly your eyes blink open. Disoriented, you look around for the deep voice. 
„I think this is your stop.“ 
Still blinking, you watch his dimpled smile grow wider at your very sleepy and very confused state. 
„Cute,“ he mumbles under his breath and winces when he realises you must have heard him. 
„I swear I’m not creepy—which is exactly what a creepy person would say—but we’ve been on the same train for like a month and you always get off here and you were asleep and I was thinking—and shit this is creepy—“ He winces again at his jumbled words.
“Cute,“ you mumble. It’s not the first time you’ve thought this. He’s right, you’ve been on the same train before. Was it just last week that he ran headfirst into a closed door, because he had his nose stuck in a book? But there’s no time to follow up on that thought, because he’s right! Your eyes widen and you wake up enough to jump up and run to the door. This is your stop and the door is already signalling that it’s about to close. 
“Wait, you forgot your…” But you’re already out of the door. You turn around and see him through the dirty window.
Shit, that’s your favourite scarf.
“Same time, same train, tomorrow?” His voice booms through the train, and earns him a few disgruntled looks.
You nod with a smile as the train starts moving.
Ⓒaugustbutwinter, nov2022  (Please don’t repost. If you like it, reblog it, leave a heart, drop me  an ask or a message. I’d love to hear from you! I thrive on feedback like a little thirsty houseplant.)
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blooodsweatandtears · 17 hours ago
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14/ ∞ days of jihope 💞
⤷ j-hope @ Lollapalooza 2022 - BTS (방탄소년단)
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kimtaegis · 2 months ago
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masters of blob petting
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kithtaehyung · 7 days ago
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RM : Indigo Promo Posters  ⤷ 22.12.02 ; ig , twt
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kth1 · 2 months ago
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we can never forgot the one true prince
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chateautae · 8 months ago
hard liquor | myg. (m)
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➵ summary: your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.
➵ pairing: executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader
➵ genre: business!au, age gap!au (5 years), smut, pwp
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 8k
➵ warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, explicit sexual content, pussy fondling, semi-public fingering, exhibitionism, humiliation, dry-humping, begging, titty sucking, marking, manhandling, dirty talk, elevator sex, tipsy sex (consensual), cum-eating, impregnation kink, creampie <3
➵ a/n: HELLOO THIS FIC IS FINALLY HERE!! thank you endlessly to everyone who’s patiently waited and shown support for this before it was even written, i hope it reads well!! 🥺 a million thank you’s to my wife @amourtae​ for beta-ing!! your feedback is always appreciated <3
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“One more sangria, please.” 
“Haven’t you had enough of those?” 
Rolling your eyes, you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue, annoyed beyond comprehension. 
You already despised grabbing drinks with your co-workers every Friday; a typical method of destressing after a week’s worth of crunching, and yet every one of your visits always transformed into a disaster. 
First of all, you despise the nature of bars. Nothing repels you more than drunk men making inappropriate passes at you. Second, you possess the single-most fickle relationship with alcohol in the universe. You never understood the drinking culture at all; sometimes you were convinced half the population was faking it. 
You understood the idea of drowning your sorrows, but that was nothing a warm cup of tea or a session with a juicy book couldn’t solve. 
So why were you here? Well, your best friend and co-worker Bit-na talked your ear off once she overheard that Chris would take her out on a date—oh so revolutionary. 
Chris was the happy-go-lucky, incredibly attractive assistant in your department with a myriad of women pining for him over his gentlemanliness. In reality, he was just overly nice. 
But once the news hit Bit-na, her energy levels sky-rocketed, and was convinced to make a move on him tonight. 
What better way to get laid than at a bar, right? 
Still, you could bonk her on the head right now, because currently, she was chatting up good ol’ Chris while you’re left an observing loner in a woman’s modern-day battle; fighting off intoxicated, grubby men. 
You’d already warded off many; you just weren’t in the mood tonight. So when you hear a male voice attempting to control you; something you despised, you whirl around to the source, tone sharp as ever. 
“Listen, dude. Whatever asshole you are, I don’t need you—” 
Right then, you panic. You focus on the last person you considered finding; the director of your department and prestigious boss, Min Yoongi. You internally malfunction. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry Mr. Min.” 
“Don’t sweat it.” The impeccably dressed executive lifts a hand, his expression cool. “You’re alright, but I did mean it. Perhaps that should be your last drink.” 
Shocked by his suggestion, you tilt your head. Part of you wants to argue with him, but the other part screams to simply obey. He was your boss, after all, and crossing Min Yoongi was considered a capital offence at your office. 
It’s not that he was this wildly dictative superior, not at all. In actuality, he was calm, cool, and collected; the very definition of what the youth label as “chill”. 
Min Yoongi rarely ever shouted, kept a low profile, and was known for being a silently lethal genius. Your research department wouldn’t have made half the discoveries that it has without his expertise, and for that, he’d earned the highly acclaimed respect of everyone at your company. 
It was seen as an injustice to piss him off. 
You would rarely earn the opportunity to speak with him, so right now, you feel displaced, more so anxious.  
“I-um… why do you say so, if I may ask, Mr. Min?” You ask without your tone; you always were quite the argumentative type. 
“Hmm,” Your boss narrows his eyes a little, observing you. You realize that he’s taken it upon himself to recline against the bar counter, clutching a crystal glass of whiskey. “Let me guess, you hate bars. Here for a friend?” 
Impressed, you raise your brows. “Y-yeah.” 
He purses his lips. “You also didn’t like the way I just spoke to you, right?” 
Eyes widening, all you muster is the courage to focus on the bar. “I… wh….” 
Yoongi softly chuckles, and turns around to face the bar, forearms splaying across the counter. “My words did sound controlling, I apologize.” 
“Not at all, Mr. Min.” You dismiss him politely. “You’re honestly right, I should probably make this my last.” 
“Mm,” he hums again, and it’s then you realize Yoongi has a hypnotizingly rich voice you could become addicted to. 
The soft bass was almost soothing—downright illegal. 
“Funny how it’s only your second drink, though.” Yoongi muses, taking a sip of his whiskey. It’s then you realize… it in fact is, so why the hell did he instruct you to slow down? And why did you agree to it when he advised that you do? 
Were you already goddamn tipsy enough to be taking orders from people? 
“I… you know how many drinks I already had?” 
“I’m observant.” 
Feeling defensive, you become bold.  “Why’d you tell me to slow down if you know it’s only my second drink?” 
Yoongi suddenly chuckles, but doesn’t look at you. You’re mesmerized by his side profile as he smiles; you’ve rarely earned the opportunity to truly appreciate his beauty like this.
Min Yoongi was dashing, the sort of pretty that was unique and ethereal. His cat-like eyes accentuated his almost feline-like beauty, his small lips and soft nose to complement. But his striking hair, his rugged, veiny hands and that tongue of his he constantly prods the inside of his cheek with… he was certainly the male definition of attractiveness–fatally so. 
“I’ve observed you on these usual Friday outings for drinks. You’re a lightweight.” He outrightly declares. 
Appalled, you scold him, your face even becoming flustered. “What? I am-I am not a lightweight.” 
“Mm,” he hums mellifluously, and you despise that he stirs something inside your stomach. “You are.” 
“How have you even observed me enough to know that?” You question him with furrowed brows. “Why would you watch me of all people?” 
“You’re the only one I find interesting.” 
Flabbergasted, you nearly choke on your saliva. Did Min Yoongi really just say that to you? A mere run-of-the-mill, inferior employee? Your untouchable, gorgeous boss that not a single co-worker in your department doesn’t simp over? Even straight guys fall to their knees over his sexily intelligent brain. 
“S-sir, pardon?” You become flushed, yearning to hide behind your empty glass. 
“Sorry if I’m being too forthright,” Yoongi lifts a polite hand again, and you admire that he’s so courteous. “But you strike me as the kind of woman that’s… different.” 
His words leave your panties dampening. How could your boss ever find you interesting? “Why do you say that?” 
He chuckles, and despite his reputation of being reserved and sometimes rigid, you’re enlightened that his personality seems to be friendly. He’s just an insanely grounded, down-to-earth man. 
“You seem uninterested in the whole bar scene. I can tell there are times during our conversation you desire to say something else, but you choose to be polite instead.” He points out. 
“I-well…” You struggle to form words, impressed by his accuracy. “This is the first time I’m ever really… speaking to you.” 
“Mm,” he hums, stealing a swig of his whiskey. “You’re correct, I apologize, I should speak with all my employees.” 
You grimace. “Please, Mr. Min. You don’t have to apologize to me so much.” 
Yoongi then shifts his eyes to you, and they’re entirely impossible to read; so are many of his attractive facial features. He rather taps his glass of liquor, careful gaze on you. You feel glued to your spot, practically pinned by his gorgeous cat eyes. 
There was this invigorating, unshakable glint within his dark irises, and you could feel your usual confidence disintegrating.
He was just so powerful. 
“S-so…” You stutter; you might as well use this opportunity to get to know him better. Everyone should have a good relationship with their boss, right? “Why did you… um, come here?” 
You feel like smashing your head against a wall; how much more rude could you have sounded? “I-I mean, what brings you here-” 
Yoongi then stifles a little laugh before knocking back his whiskey. “You’re entertaining.”  
You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m-I’m entertaining?” 
“Mm, you choose your words very carefully based on who you’re speaking to, but often fail. It’s funny.” He points out, to which you lightly scramble.
“Well, you are my boss. So I’m trying really hard.” 
“Mm,” Yoongi hums, another swig disappearing behind his lips. How he so casually downed such hard liquor beats you, but what’s beating you even more is how sexy he looks doing it. Why is it now you’re noticing how thick his shoulders appear? How muscular and broad he is in a suit? “I’m only 5 years older than you, though.” 
You blink, purely shocked. “Wait, really?” 
“Mm,” he nods. “I’m unsure why people think I’m older. Am I that mysterious?” 
Mysterious; that’s the perfect word to describe him. “You are quite mysterious, Mr. Min. Though I believe your intelligence just intimidates people. You’re well-acclaimed for someone quite young.” You compliment, finding him amusing. It slipped your judgment that Min Yoongi had more to him than just being quiet. “I don’t think a lot of people know much about you in the first place.” 
He nods his head. “You’re correct. People only know that I love whiskey. I haven’t stopped receiving bottles of them on Christmas. I’ll be a drunkard soon.” 
You snicker as the bartender hands you your new sangria, and you’re completely sucked in by your boss now. How could he be so charming when he says so little? Perhaps that was his talent. “So you like whiskey, huh?” 
“Guilty.” He smiles, and you can’t help but find the curve of his lips beautiful. Did he always have such endearing teeth? You haven’t stopped staring at his veiny hands either; there’s a certain roughness to them that’s sending your mind into a frenzy. The way he grips his glass is intoxicating—you wonder how he’d grip you with strong hands like that. “I’m not an alcoholic, though. I just enjoy a drink.” 
You’re suddenly much more interested in him, captivated by the information he’s providing. Has Min Yoongi perhaps always been the talkative type? And his reserved presence only unjustly veered people away from him? If so, how are you being blessed by his company? “Funny, I’m quite literally the opposite.” 
“You don’t say?” He jokes, and shoots a playfully disapproving look over at you and your sangria, to which your jaw drops. He chuckles once you gasp, and you pretend to have taken a dagger to the heart. 
“Ugh, how could you do that to me, Mr. Min?” 
“All in good fun.” 
You attempt to hold back a smile as you slowly drink, feeling the alcohol course through your veins, even loosen up your guard. 
The heat of his gaze keeps you on your toes. 
“I don’t know… I just don’t find joy in drinking. On top of that, my tolerance is garbage.” You sigh. 
“Drinking is a developed skill.” Yoongi elucidates. “Socially it’s an efficient way to network and build relationships, similar to what we’re doing now.” 
Cocking a brow, you joke with a breezy tone. “Are you trying to build a relationship with me, Mr. Min?” 
He laughs a little, swishing around the remnants of his drink. “Mm, you really are different. Nobody would have made a comment like that to my face.” 
Internally face-palming, you remind your witty self that you’re speaking to your Godforsaken superior right now. You shouldn’t be joking with him! “Oh, I’m so sorry.” 
“No, I encourage it.” He lifts a hand, tucking the same one in his pocket as he faces you. Again, you despise that it’s now you’re realizing how large he is. He always appeared to be leaner, but when he’s inches before you, your erogenous zones can’t help but fire off observing his intoxicatingly masculine build. “It makes me feel less… superior. I don’t enjoy always being treated formally.”
Lightening up, you smile widely. “I see. Well, you’re welcome to stay with me if that’s what you seek. I do tend to speak my mind.” You wittily remark, and he beautifully chuckles. 
“I welcome that, Y/N. No need for a filter.” 
“You know my name?” 
“I’m observant. I keep an eye on all my employees.” 
“Well, since you’ve had an eye on me and know I’m not a great drinker, do you have any tips? I’d hate to lack in my social skills.”  
Yoongi sends you another subtle grin that strikes you through the heart. He then eyes your sangria, pointing towards the pink drink. “Mind if I drink some? I’ll assess the alcohol content.” 
You quirk an impressed brow. “You can taste how much alcohol is in something?” 
“Like I said, I like alcohol.” 
Giggling, you hand him your drink, and watch as his veiny hand decorated with a few rings clasps around the glass, clinking against it. 
You wonder how those rings would feel stuffed inside you. 
Mentally whacking yourself for the dirty thought, you linger on his hands a little too long until Yoongi clearing his throat awakens you. You meet his eyes, and nearly become flushed as he holds your gaze; so quiet and yet, so powerful. 
Cupping the glass, he brings it towards his lips, and takes a sip as he bores into your pupils. You feel your core gush as he does so, something so innately sexy about his resolve to keep eye contact with you. 
Bringing the glass down, he gently smacks his lips as he tastes the drink, gently grimacing. “Mm, sweet. About 20% alcohol.” 
Mouth falling agape, you’re coloured entirely impressed. Not that you would know how accurate he’s being right now, but his ability to sense the percentage was still hot as ever. “I-I don’t even know if you’re correct.” 
“I’m correct, doll.” You nearly choke when he calls you the pet name in his smooth voice. Rather than question him, you attempt to hide how flustered you are. 
Your boss merely smiles to himself, sipping his whiskey once again, and you become curious. “How do you even tolerate whiskey? I can never drink it straight or neat.”
“I’ve become accustomed to the taste,” Yoongi’s jaw flexes as he tastes his liquor once again, and you can’t help but find him blindingly sexy. He carries himself with such finesse. “I even try to make my own.” 
“You make your own alcohol?!” You marvel, instinctively leaning closer to him. 
“Sometimes. Practice mixology, too.”
“You seem to know a lot about alcohol.” 
“I do,” Yoongi proudly admits, before cocking one of his brows. “I could even help you with your tolerance.” 
Internally flustered, you attempt to maintain a facade of ease. Your boss offering to help you tolerate alcohol better? All while you suffer the damage of him being so incredibly sexy? You could feel your heart pounding in your ears with excitement. “And how exactly would you do that, Mr. Min?” 
Yoongi cracks a smile at the way you draw out his addressment. You may be crazy, but you might be safe in assuming he likes being called professionally. “Like this.” 
Your boss then leans over the counter and orders something from the bar, piquing your curiosity. The bartender returns with a glass of what you assumed to be fruit punch, and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey. Yoongi finishes off his shot, and pours more whiskey into his glass. Instead of bringing it to his own lips, he nudges the shot towards you. 
“Have a drink.” 
You nearly stutter. “F-from your glass?”
Yoongi chuckles, his teeth bright and beautiful. “Yes, unless you feel uncomfortable.” 
“No, no. I’m totally comfortable.” You brush him off, grasping the glass and swallowing as you eye the liquid. Your expression becomes a little nervous. “Listen, Mr. Min…” 
“Never had it straight, huh?” Yoongi’s soft, rich voice hums, and you consider whether it’s already the alcohol in your veins or his ability to entrance anyone. 
Perhaps it’s both. 
“That’s why I got you this,” Yoongi taps the glass of juice, and you hate that it draws attention to his thick, veiny fingers, especially his glimmering silver rings. Did he always wear rings? Why have you come to notice that now? “Try knocking the shot back. If you can’t stand it, mix your next one into this glass of juice and drink it slower.” 
Following his advice, you take a breath, and shoot him a wary look as you size down your glass. Yoongi reaches out and pats your shoulder supportively, to which you gain the electric shock of his cold rings pressing against your hot skin. You feel yourself gush.
Confident, you tip back the shot, and instantly cough at the crudeness of the liquor. Grimacing, you instantly reach out for your juice and take a large swig, still hacking up the sharp flavour. 
“Jesus, that could’ve practically been gasoline.” You hit your chest. 
Yoongi laughs, and you swear it feels like an accomplishment to be the cause of that effect. “You’re funny.” 
Sheepishly denying a smile, you pout. “C’mon, Mr. Min. I feel like I’m just terrible at this.” 
“Not at all, Y/N.” He softly denies you. “Building up tolerance takes time. You can still socially enjoy drinking by, say, mixing your liquor with another drink.” Yoongi indicates the glass of juice, pouring another glass of his strong whiskey into it. “Cocktails are counterproductive since they include more than one alcoholic component. Simply adding a shot of liquor to juice or pop is more efficient.” 
Your boss then proceeds to mix the liquor with the juice, and offers it to you. After sending him a disappointed grin, you still accept the juice and steal your sip. You wince a little once the alcohol’s taste hits you, but the fruit punch soothes your tastebuds. 
“Mmm,” you hum in appreciation. “This is so much better.” 
“Right?” Yoongi smiles. “All about taking it step by step, Y/N. Gradually add more alcohol at your pace. One shot can become one and a half, or two or three. It’s about dedication.” 
Impressed, you stifle a grin. “You really are serious about alcohol, huh?” 
“Like I said, guilty.” Yoongi smirks. 
Suddenly, you feel yourself loosening up, Yoongi’s smirk hitting a thousand times harder. This has to be the alcohol, right? Clearly your lack of food shot the potent liquid straight to your bloodstream, and now you’re experiencing everything in full swing. 
Every sensation feels amplified; the sight of the bar’s mauve lighting, the booming bass of the music, the feeling of your nipples hardening against your dress as you eye your boss down. 
To be quite frank, you always found Yoongi sexy ever since the day you first met him over a year ago. His cat-like eyes could reel in anyone, the elusive glint in them compelled any poor soul to search deep within them for answers. His elegant and yet, attractively masculine way of carrying himself was alluring. He was an enigma; a taste of someone calm, cool and collected, though held within him the ability to utterly ravage someone. 
And you got the sense that he didn’t just do it intellectually, but most of all; sexually. 
The mere idea of Min Yoongi tugging you close to his body, his thick fingers curling around your waist, his delicate lips grazing your ear as he whispers in his deep, warm voice. His hand rubbing your aching pussy, his mouth suckling your pulse point or his hot gaze permeating your entire body. 
You feel a buzz suffocate you, rattled to the very core as you attempt to shake the erotic images of your boss out of your head, but you’re a lost cause. Yoongi will not stop staring at you; his eyes are careful, calculated. He’s observing you, and you’re being as transparent as glass. 
You’re aching between your legs, and your only saviour is being able to shuffle your thighs together. Biting your lip as Yoongi glances down at your thighs, you clear your throat, hand lazily weaving through your hair. 
“So… do you think I can get better?” You try to make conversation. How lame, you internally wince. 
Your boss focuses on your eyes again, gently licking his lips. “I believe so. My lessons should do you well.” 
You swallow at the small innuendo you can find in his words; the alcohol’s surely corrupting your mind. His expression is unreadable, but the hint of amusement in his features tells you enough to feel horny. He’s your boss, but he’s only five years older than you, huh? 
Good thing you loved older men. 
“I feel like if you’re my teacher, I’ll learn anything.” Your sultry tone is laced with suggestion, leaning your cheek in your palm. The club was playing a provocative, sensual song that kept your blood pumping, your arousal rising and your heart beating erratically. 
“Mm,” Yoongi hums, his small grin exhilarating. “I am your boss, after all. You’d do anything I tell you, wouldn’t you?” 
His comment nearly leaves you winded, blinking idiocally. Your core pulses, your breasts feel hyper alert to his much closer presence, and your cheeks are hot under his tempting gaze. “Only if I like what you’re telling me to do.” 
Yoongi bounces a brow, rolling his tongue inside his cheek before his deep voice rumbles out. “Trust me, Y/N, you’d like anything I tell you to do.” 
Dampening your panties, you become restless, desiring his proximity. You shuffle closer, and suddenly feel a burst of intoxicated giggling attack you. 
“Don’t be cocky, Mr. Min.” You reach out and lightly hit his bicep, to which you feel how tight and thick it is. His eyes follow your hand touching him, until they refocus on you, an enthralling spark in his irises. 
He moves to speak, but his attention is called elsewhere when it flits towards some raucous behind you. He observes something evidently unfavourable, and he grinds his teeth harshly with frustrated eyes, tone vexed. “Fuck.” 
While you’re confused, Yoongi’s urgent expression finds you. “Y/N, are you okay with hiding?” 
“Are you okay if you hide somewhere with me?” He repeats, though with care and patience. “You don’t have to, but I’d rather have your company.” 
Blinking, you slightly malfunction. “Y-yes. I mean, if you need-” Before you can finish, your boss ensnares your wrist, suddenly tugging you along with him. You squeak as Yoongi navigates you both through the throngs of people mingling, drinking and dancing. 
His steps are so quick; you can barely keep up. “Mr. Min, why are we hiding?!” You need to shout over the music. 
Yoongi squeezes your hand tighter. “My uncle; head of the company. Not in the mood to talk to him.” Is all your boss grits before halting right before the black curtains draping the floor-to-ceiling windows; they overlooked an attached balcony. 
With your high-pitched squeal, Yoongi speedily conceals you both behind the curtains, tucking you underneath him. Your back lands flat against the chilled glass, and Yoongi’s caged you in, looming over you. 
You swallow as you peer up at him with widened eyes. His body feels sinfully hot this close, and you’re at a loss for words. There’s no way you’re pinned against glass by your boss, Min Yoongi. 
And there’s no way he’s staring down at you with dilated pupils, his breaths hot and heavy. 
“You’re okay?” He asks; if only he knew your heart is hammering against your chest. 
“I-I am,” you stutter. “But my… my dress.” You peek down at the side of your bodycon, having slightly torn up your thigh when Yoongi ushered you along. Your black, lacey panties are still thankfully covered, but your dress is ripped enough to bare a tasteful amount of skin. 
And you feel sweltering hot once you feel Yoongi’s warm breath fanning your cheek. 
His eyes shift towards the rip, and before you can cover yourself out of embarrassment, Yoongi’s soft, veiny hand drapes you with a light grab. Your heart roars exhilaratingly, peering up at him with warm cheeks. He keeps your gaze, searching your eyes meticulously. 
You can feel his rings… his goddamn silver rings you raved about touching you, and your skin’s burning up.
Incredibly horny, you squirm underneath him, restless that you’re even in this position with him. Your bodies are concealed by the curtains; it’s just you and him, and it’s dark. The alcohol is suffusing your brain with poor decision-making, instinctively craving him like an addict craves a drug, and you're experiencing euphoria. 
With your skin set ablaze, you slowly press your front against his, watching his expression carefully. Yoongi intakes a harsher breath, his eyes switching between your lip that you keep biting, and your hooded, tempting eyes. 
Your smaller hands curl around his biceps, holding onto them, a coquettish look upon your face. Yoongi eyes you with amusement, his vision hazing over with lust. 
The alcohol’s unlocked something carnal between you two. 
“What are you doing, Y/N?” 
His rich voice casts a spell on you, your eyes keen on his dewy lips. “Nothing.” 
Yoongi laughs. “Lying to your boss isn’t a good thing.” 
“And my boss touching my thigh isn’t, either.” 
Caught, Yoongi rolls his tongue inside his cheek with a scoff, irises glowing with mirth. His hand upon your thigh slowly, ever so slightly shifts from atop the fabric to slip underneath, enveloping your bare skin. 
He gently skims up your thigh, and you shudder underneath him, vying for his touch. The alcohol intensifies every inch he moves, the subtle grazing of his warm skin against yours intoxicating. The cold metal of his rings causes your core to pulse achingly, and your eyes give away your need, but your mouth begs to differ. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this… Mr. Min.” 
“Mm,” he hums, and you could’ve melted to the throaty, deep sound. “We shouldn’t.” 
And still, Yoongi painstakingly inches upwards. One, two, three, decreasing the space between your mouths too; the heat of his breath is invigorating. 
He glides across the lace of your panties suddenly, and you sigh erotically. Yoongi smirks, wetting his lips. “But you’ve been squirming all night, Y/N,” he rasps. “And I hate when people fidget.”  
Unable to respond, you feel Yoongi’s veiny hand canvas towards the band of your underwear, toying with it. He leans in closer, so close that you taste the whiskey on his breath, and suddenly, you adore the crude liquor. You know your eyes appear dumbstruck, his presence overriding your every system. 
His fingers slip past for skin-to-skin contact, and his touch to your pelvis enlivens you, shuddering. “Mr. Min…” 
“Do you like this?” He rasps, his unoccupied hand having slid down to your waist, holding at just the junction. His grip feels riveting, electrifying, hot. The tips of his fingers skim towards your core, and you anticipate his lewd touch to your wet clit more than anything. 
Flustered, you nod, your insides on the verge of exploding. 
Yoongi’s fingers slowly engulf your clit, and the heft of your body disappears. You feel light, airy, goddamn ascendant. Arousal rushes to your center pathetically, and you whimper in his hold, eyes a mess of need. 
Your boss grips your hip tighter, his grin amused. “Christ, you really needed to be touched, huh? You’re dripping.” 
Toes curling in your heels, you feel hot to the touch. Your desire to tease him takes the spotlight, however. “So… so unprofessional of you, Mr. Min.” 
Yoongi scoffs a laugh; the fact that you’re still unfiltered even in this position entertains him. “Liquor makes me a little unprofessional.” He admits, his fingertips circling your sticky bud as you shiver between him and the glass, your hands hooking onto his suit. “Especially around a woman like you.” 
“Do you do this… with all your female employees?” You breathe in between moans, leaning back against the glass to eye his smug expression as he fondled your cunt. You knew he was hiding something feral behind those unreadable eyes. “You know, since you keep such a close eye on them.” 
Your boss bites his lip, bringing his mouth inches before yours, his dark eyes pinning you in your place. “Like I said, you’re the only one I find interesting.” 
Yoongi’s fingers slip in between your puffy folds, and you capsize. You sigh so loudly when his cold rings press against your slit, and your boss lifts a finger to your lips, hushing you. “Shh, not so loud, doll. Or are you the type that likes to get caught?” 
Coloured slightly humiliated, you discern that you liked it. Especially when it was your boss with his fingers inside your panties. 
You grip his suit tightly to manage the pleasure he rubs between your thighs. He gathers your slick and constantly slides it around, lathering up all your folds with your essence. He teases your throbbing pearl, his rings adding a blissful chill to your sweltering hot skin. 
It’s hot, oh, it’s very hot. Being this close to your boss, feeling his breath against yours, and his heated gaze that never wavers is proliferating. Your boobs are squishing up against his chest, and your cleavage is revealing itself plentifully. Your body responds by riding his fingers, desperate to feel them inside you, to feel him inside you. 
Yoongi hisses at your grinding hips, watching it happen. “Fuck, move like that and I’ll have no mercy, doll.” 
You disobey this time, your pleasure far too suffocating. You move faster, head occupied by fluffy white clouds. Your center is electrifying and your gut is twisting, coiling so badly it’ll snap any passionate second. 
In your delirium, Yoongi speaks, his breaths rugged. “Fuck, usually I’m not phased by a woman that’s wet but you… you drip.” Your boss marvels, watching his fingers slide between your folds with such ease, and become amply coated with your leaking cum. “And all because of me? I didn’t even touch you.” 
Pride swelling, you smirk. “Guess I’m interesting, don’t you think, Mr. Min?” 
Scoffing with a smile, Yoongi plunges his two fingers inside your fluttering hole as punishment for your wit, and your body erupts with an erotic moan. Your boss covers your mouth instantly, and you moan into his palm, eyes fluttering shut at the sheer thickness of his fingers inside you. 
Couple in his silver rings, and you were a goner. 
You peer at him with hooded eyes, and Yoongi’s quick to press his crotch against you. You feel his clothed tip nudge your hip, and your insides ignite. 
He increases his pace, finger-fucking you against the hard glass. He pumps inside you deliciously, twisting and curling up his fingers to massage your walls like a god. Yoongi appears mesmerized by how much you squeeze him, groaning in accordance with your euphoric moans. 
Your boss nestles his thumb against your clit, and just as he moves forward to seal your mouths together, a drunk couple slams open the doors to the balcony just left of you, waltzing their way out. 
You panic, eyes widening with the fear that upon occupying the balcony, the couple’s on the opposite side of the window you’re pushed up against, able to see everything. Yoongi hushes you in that instant, his eyes calm and collected. 
“They can’t see you, only me, doll.” He assures, and maneuvers his body to conceal yours, while he remains in plain sight. Your dress’s skirt still covers your ass, and frankly, all anyone can really see is Yoongi caging you against the glass. 
Though the movement of his arm should be a dead giveaway of something explicit happening, and your chest fills with an odd sense of… arousal despite your initial shamefulness. You wish to speak as he covers your mouth, and Yoongi lets you. 
“Can-can they see you? Do they know what you’re doing?” Yoongi shoots a look above you towards the couple, before meeting your eyes again. His pupils are beyond dilated, his forehead slicked with sweat, and he glistens stunningly underneath the moonlight. 
“They see me, I think they know what I’m doing.” Yoongi tells you honestly, but his fingers never stop their addictive movement, softly fucking you underneath him as quiet whimpers spill out of you. “But I like the face you make when my fingers are inside you, I won’t stop unless you want me to.” 
His completely confident expression throws you for a loop, hyponotized by his cat-like eyes. You feel exposed, humiliated, but something about his intoxicating eye contact makes you believe it’s only you and Yoongi in this world. 
And the pleasure he provides you becomes your penicillium. 
Your boss sends you flying when he quickens his head-spinning pace, ramming his fingers into you. You moan incessantly, feeling the prying eyes of whomever is now on the balcony, but the weight of Yoongi’s broad body, his captivating eyes keep you grounded. 
Even then, the idea that you’re the one pinned against glass by him while others look on is almost empowering; you’re the only one who could disassemble the stoic genius of your department, Min Yoongi’s, self control. 
Though yours is in danger. It’s sinking with every hot second, your nipples begging to be sucked or exposed to him, to rut against his impeccable suit. Your clit is throbbing, your walls are molding around his thick fingers and rings, and all you need is to kiss him. 
You move forward, and he does, too. Your orgasm is impending, and you yearn to consume him like a five-course meal–feel your body press into his with all its might. You’re centimeters from the liplock, reviving your lost moment, feeling the heat of his mouth and tongue as he approaches you, before another bout of raucous party-goers open the balcony doors, too, shocking you two. 
The opening awakens your awareness; Yoongi instantly extracts his fingers from you, and your head returns to Earth. 
Your chest rises and falls as your orgasm melts away, your pussy soaked and achingly throbbing. Your boss also dons a semi-hard on, and every nerve inside you feels completely burned out. 
Yoongi stares at you, and you stare at him, the air between you two suddenly thick. What just overcame the both of you? How did you even end up in this situation with him? You let your boss finger-fuck you against a balcony window, in a public place. Have you completely lost your horny fucking mind? 
Embarrassed that his fingers are now coated with your juices, and that you still pathetically yearn for his touch, you avert your eyes, swallowing rigidly. 
Only Yoongi’s steady voice calls your attention back, listening to him clear his throat. “Y/N, did you eat?” 
Cocking a brow, you meet his gaze. “Huh?” 
“Before drinking. Did you eat before drinking?” 
You gently shake your head. “No.” 
Yoongi sighs, even dipping his head. “You should never do that.” 
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you merely cross your arms and lean against the glass, teeming with uncontrollable sensations–the denial of your orgasm was frustrating you vehemently. 
“Do you want to eat ramen at my place?” 
Dazzled, you nearly choke, meeting his completely serious gaze. Hold on, he wasn’t kidding? Did your boss really just ask you to eat ramen back at his place? First of all, this was an official invitation to your executive boss’ home. Second of all, is he even familiar with the sexual euphemism?
There is no way Min Yoongi is using this euphemism on you. 
“I should’ve asked you if you ate before getting you to drink. I’m partially responsible, I should treat you.” He simply says, and once you consider he may actually mean just eating at his place, you don’t mind the offer. You really didn’t eat before drinking, perhaps a meal could sober you up and deal with this situation more intelligently. 
You’ve already committed enough idiocy.
“Sure,” you nod, bewitched by the look in Yoongi’s eyes. He’s unreadable again, but you swear you can discern the glint of lust still swirling within his irises.
You hate that it makes you feel thrilled. 
“I would love that.” You smile. 
Yoongi grins beautifully, tongue rolling across his teeth. “My place is the highest floor of this building. Come along, doll.” He tells you before gently grabbing your wrist, and leading the way towards the elevator. Your stomach fills with butterflies as he squeezes you, recalling that it was with the same hand he’d fucked inside you. 
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You gulp as you stand next to Yoongi inside the compact elevator. 
He’d explained that the upper levels are all residential, and require a key from any of the owners to access them. He personally owns the highest room, a lustrous penthouse, and with a simple turn of his key, only yourself and Yoongi were headed up towards his home. 
You genuinely wish it was that simple, but it isn’t. All you can feel is how soaking wet you are between your thighs, the sexually-charged energy between you and your boss, and smell the mixed scent of your cum on his fingers and his cologne in the air. 
Yoongi was predominantly silent, merely standing with his fingers weaved together before him. He stares only in front, never stealing a look at you. You suppose the earlier situation truly woke him up to how insane it even was; he’s probably decided to completely remain at arm’s length with you. 
The idea makes you feel wounded; you’d never felt so hot with a man before, and your body still aches with need for him. If he could pump pleasure through your veins like that just by his fingers, how would his cock fare? Stuffed inside you as he pins you down into his sheets? His couch? Even the very walls of this elevator? 
You internally sigh at your delusional mind. 
Suddenly, Yoongi actually sighs next to you, even shakes his head. “Fuck,” he curses, and you’re the equivalent of a lost puppy. 
“God, fuck it.” 
Just as you turn to question your boss, he suddenly charges forwards and presses his mouth against yours, kissing you fervently. Shocked, the power of his kiss overwhelms you, but you instantly become taken by his lips, the powerful, sensual way he molds his mouth with yours. 
His dogmatic force shoves you up against the elevator wall, and you moan mellifluously into his mouth. His tongue teases your bottom lip before he pulls back, his breaths harsh and rugged, his hands resting either side of your head. 
He stares into your eyes, and you similarly breathe for your life; he knocked the wind out of you. 
“Can I continue?” he rasps, and his fiery irises spell your doom. You vehemently nod, and Yoongi dives in for more within an instant. 
When his mouth meets yours, you’re floating. He presses his broad body against yours, the weight of him exhilarating. His tongue is merciless, asking for more of you, consuming you for all you’re worth. Your hands travel up his chest, traversing higher to weave through his luscious locks.
Yoongi moans into the kiss when you tug at his hair, and you feel your core gush with your sticky essence. He truly was going to be the end of you, and to think he’s only been a mere office away. 
Breaking away from you, his school-laden breath fans across your cheek as he pants. You’re similarly winded, and can’t stand being without his mouth. Clutching his suit, you tug him back on your lips with demanding force, and Yoongi’s thoroughly impressed.
He lets out a surprised groan as you hook your leg around his thigh, yearning to feel his delicious, clothed monster wedged between your dripping pussy.
Yoongi immediately curls his hand underneath your thigh, holding you wide open as he begins grinding his hips into yours. You shudder when the heft of his erection teases your sensitive folds, your hands ruining the iron press of his suit.
“Shit,” he breathes between your kisses. “You are absolutely sexy.”
Proud, you breathe back. “Not as sexy as you.”
Yoongi groans with you as you both relish in this position; his cock slowly rutting against your warm pussy, your kisses sloppier and wetter than ever. He becomes insatiable, and his mouth travels towards your pulse point, sucking your sweet spot plentifully as you crane your neck.
“Fuck, Y/N” Yoongi curses, the slight growl in his tone riveting. “Are you wet enough for me to fuck you?”
Shivering from the inside, your pussy flares at just the question, and you whine like a dumb whore. “So wet, Yoongi, so fucking wet.”
Yoongi suddenly smacks his heavy hand against your bare thigh, his voice deep as you squeak “Don’t call me by my name.” He admonishes, his eyes darker than black. “Call me Mr. Min.”
Scoffing with delight, you glow with amusement. “Boss likes hearing his title, huh?”
“More like knowing he’s doing something he shouldn’t.” He smirks, and you smile to yourself thinking you had him figured out all along; he truly did hide something intense behind his unreadable eyes.
“Mm, Mr. Min likes fucking his employees?” You tease, an all-too-innocent pout painting your lips.
“Like I said, you’re the only one I find interesting.” Yoongi becomes tired of your separated lips and dives in once again, kissing you feverishly, his hips unforgiving as he repeatedly plunges his clothed cock against your panty-clad core.
“Interesting enough to fuck?”
“Interesting enough to break some rules for.”
With that, he shuts you up with a powerful thrust into your soaked sex, and you shakily moan so loud it echoes within the small space. 
“Fuck, Mr. Min… please fuck me.” You beg, your clit throbbing incessantly. He was driving you insane with some mere dry-humping; you truly were a goner. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being stuffed full of my cock?” Your boss condescends. “So impatient, doll. We’re not even at my place yet.” 
“So you did mean the euphemism… earlier.” You moan in between, his hips rhymically driving into yours as his body presses into you. 
Yoongi cracks a smug side-grin, licking his lips. “There’s no way I’ll ever forget how wet you feel.” He dips down for another chaste, fiery kiss, his hands gripping your body roughly. His fingers clutching your thigh travel up to your underwear, hooking onto the soaked fabric. “I need to be inside you.” 
“Mr. Min… fuck,” you sigh, body buzzing with uncontrollable arousal. “It’s now or never, please.” 
He breathes a deep laugh. “You’re definitely my type.” 
Without a word, Yoongi quickly slides your panties down your ass and removes them, tucking them into his suit pocket. He returns for animalistic kisses as he helps you bunch up your skirt, his hands eventually curling around the back of your thighs. 
You don’t need further instruction and leap into his arms. Yoongi catches you flawlessly and drives you up against the elevator’s wall, the two of you deeply groaning as you make out shamelessly. His cold rings nestled against your skin feels enlivening again, causing you to lose all forms of control.
Your ass rests perfectly upon the metal handle running across the entire elevator, and your hands have never been quicker to dart towards a man’s belt. 
Fumbling with the metal clasp, Yoongi assists you, removing his belt and unzipping his trousers to reveal his taut boxers. He’s impatient to free himself, and your eyes widen at his absolutely stunning dick. Pretty and pink, the tip thick and wet with pre-cum. 
You practically salivate, and once Yoongi sees your expression, his voice becomes hoarse with pleasure, his lips merciless as he dives in for a kiss. “Condom?”
“Are you clean?” 
“I usually don’t sleep around. You?” 
“Tested a week ago, clean.” 
Beaming, your body operates on its own and kisses him blissfully, hands tugging his tufts of thick hair as he curls his veiny, ring-clad hand around his delicious shaft. He pumps himself, and the movements occasionally nudge your bare pussy lips, shivering to be fucked full of him. 
“Fuck,” you gasp. “Mr. Min, please fuck me. Fuck my tight pussy.” 
“Filthy fucking girl, to think you’ve been my type all along.” He growls as he aligns himself with your entrance, your eyes shifting towards where your bodies connect. 
Yoongi watches as he slowly pierces himself inside your warm, wet pussy, moaning out gloriously as he does so. Your body vibrates with incontestable arousal, heat bundling up inside your stomach. 
“Fuck… oh fuck,” he curses. 
“Mr. Min, oh my God.” 
You quiver pathetically–the sting of his cock invading you is glorious. Yoongi was thick, the kind of girthy that stretches you out like a spacer, and your mind was in delirium. You moan ferally as you dig your nails into his neck, legs clinging to him for dear life. 
When he bottoms out, your pussy practically squelches, dripping cum like honey from a hive. You both breathe unevenly, foreheads already sweating. With a chaste kiss, Yoongi pulls out of your sex, inch by inch, and inserts himself once again, ensuring he fucked deeper this time. 
You mewl, clutching him like a koala as your legs shake. “Mr. Min…” you whimper. 
“Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d hear you whimper my name like that.” He wets his lips, focusing on the way he pulls out of your pussy, only to draw back in. He tugs in and out, sliding effortlessly within your fluttering walls as your essence slicks him up to perfection. 
After one stroke, two, three, your boss indulges in completely fucking you up against his elevator wall. You’re surprised you haven’t reached his place yet, considering how much has just happened, but then again, everything felt so fast, too. So hot, fiery and intoxicating. 
You know the alcohol was causing you both to lack common sense right now, but to also intensify every second of his cock plunging in and out of you, your bodies on auto-pilot. 
Yoongi begins driving up into you from underneath, delivering delicious thrusts that leave your head spinning and your toes curling. You gasp as his thick length repeatedly fills up your empty canal, his throbbing meat the equivalent of being complete. 
His flesh is prominent with veins, and you can’t help but adore feeling him so bare. Your pussy walls smother him, in love with the way he fucks you into the seventh sky. 
“Oh god, Mr. Min… your cock.” 
“Mm, it feels good? Yeah?” You melt listening to his gravelly voice, body bouncing over his dick. 
“So fucking good, Mr. Min. Don’t stop.” 
“Wasn’t planning to, doll.” 
Yoongi grunts as he buries himself deep inside you, kissing your cervix as your eyes roll back. You lean against the wall, losing your mind as he crafts your very own paradise inside you. The action calls attention to your covered tits, however, and Yoongi becomes fascinated by their erotic jostling. 
His hungry eyes sweep all over you, and he’s consumed by lust. 
Yoongi moves without thought, tearing your dress down until your boobs spill out. You gasp, and just as you register his possible next move, Yoongi’s warm mouth envelopes your nipple, suckling on the pert nub as he continues fucking up into your sex. 
You wail, mind clouded by lust as your bundle of nerves throbs for friction, and his thick cock inside you unravels your insides with each drilling thrust. He grunts and groans, breathing hard as he delivers each delicious stroke, hips smacking into yours, his hard member gliding across your wet, velvet walls. 
“My God, Y/N, can’t believe you’ve always had a cunt like this.” He groans deeply, the tip of his tongue flicking your nipple as you cry out. “Tight, wet pussy. I could fuck you forever.” 
Cosmically proud, you purposefully tighten your walls around his dick, and he hisses. “Doll, don’t you dare tease me like that. I’ll punish you for it.” 
“But watching your self-control unravel… is the best part.” You speak between his powerful thrusts practically banging you into next week. 
Yoongi scoffs a laugh, his eyes conniving. “You’ll pay for that.” 
Instantly, Yoongi grips you so hard you’ll know you’ll adorn bruises, and begins harshly piercing your sex in his dick with tireless vigour. He’s hard and fast, fucking you so mercilessly you were bouncing. You scream out as he jackhammers you against the wall, the friction from his pelvis serving your swollen clit.
You see colours explode behind your eyes, head plunging into an abyss of sheer pleasure. Your body’s on white hot fire, sizzling gloriously as Yoongi pounds your cunt from underneath, your hard nipples rutting against his suit-clad chest as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths hot, and you hug him to you like your only lifeline. 
He fucks you so good you’re convinced you’re not on Earth anymore, your pussy broken and battered, but the constant stimulation to your g-spot spells your doom, coiling your gut tightly. 
“Mr. Min… Mr. Min!” 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N, fuck!” 
“Oh God, I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna cum!” 
“Yeah? You’re already gonna cum, doll? Did I fuck you that good?” 
“Yes, sir, yes.” You mewl, carding your fingers through his thick, black hair as you hang on by a thread, losing all composure. 
“Obeying me so easily,” Yoongi teases, his words breathy, his skin sweaty. “Only when my cock’s inside you, huh?” 
You whimper, pining for your release that pulses inside you. “Please, Mr. Min, fucking stuff me.” 
“Want me to breed you, doll?” Your boss speaks sweetly, pecking your pouty lips as he mercilessly fucks you. Tears collect in your eyes; he’s fucking you that good, so much so that you feel him in your lungs. “Want my cum inside your cunt? Want it dripping down your thighs?” 
You shiver, moans high-pitched as you nod pathetically. Your boss cracks a shit-eating grin, his laugh rich and deep. “As you wish, doll. Cum all over me, keep me inside you and never let me out.” 
Finally, his words help you reach your demise, releasing your powerful orgasm all over his throbbing cock. You hold hims captive inside you, squeezing his dick for dear life as Yoongi simultaneously lets his guard down, and spills his load inside you, softly stuffing his cum inside your heat. 
When his seed overflows and spills out of your sex, your boss is quick to swipe up the milky white liquid. He directs his fingers to your lips, and without instruction, you open up, enveloping him with your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his digits, tasting his cum with a delighted moan. 
Yoongi softly groans. “Fuck, you’re exactly my type.” 
Sheepish, you chuckle, and Yoongi joins, completely spent. You both breathe heavily, skin slicked with sweat, arms lazily tangled around one another. Your hooded eyes meet his as he lifts his head; you swallow to replenish your dry throat. 
“That was… insane.” You breathe, wisps of your hair loose. “My pussy… is done.” 
But Yoongi doesn’t seem to be on the same page as you, who wets his swollen, lightly lip-gloss stained lips with a playful grin. He appears as anything but tired, instead hungry for more.
“Not yet, doll. We still have my entire place to ruin.” 
The elevator subsequently dings, and the doors unveil your boss’ enormous penthouse, along with the numerous possible places he can fuck you. 
Gulping, you meet Yoongi’s darker-than-black eyes that gleam with sin, and your body buzzes with anticipation. You’ve never once been more thankful for alcohol; especially, hard liquor. 
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yoonamgi · 3 months ago
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220824 weverse live - yoongi on his friendship tattoo (translation cr. btsinthemoment)
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yooboobies · 2 days ago
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this man ruins my sanity... | for @hoonamjoon
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hobeah · 2 months ago
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the ft we didn't know we needed
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usertae · 8 days ago
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708 notes · View notes
aquagustd · 7 months ago
prod. suga - MYG
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❝you pay your boyfriend a visit at the that that mv shoot to support him, but he ends up supporting your legs as you ride him.❞
pairing — yoongi x reader
genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, pwp, idol au
warnings/tags — mullet yoongi 😩, hand kink, strong language, explicit smut — clothed sex, breast kink, yoongi has a filthy mouth ffs, a mix of degradation & praise 🤌🏻, light breeding kink, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, biting/scratching, name calling, hair pulling, nipple play, clit pinching, cowgirl, sloppy kisses, creampie, cockwarming, slight overstimulation
note: yeah i’m not explaining myself this is this & the only way i know how to channel my unhinged yoongi thirst because WTF he looks so fcking hot i love that man more each day it’s tough as a yoongi stan yoongi marry me 😩🫦🤰🏻 also tryna manifest yoongi selca from this shoot heh 🧘🏻‍♀️
selca - selfie
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“Hey cowboy.”
Yoongi’s face lights up as you approach him, a shy smile playing on his lips once you stand behind his chair, catching his gaze in the mirror. The sole reason why you decided to visit him, apart from offering your love and support, during your lunch break was because of the selca he had sent you a few minutes ago. And you know he did it on purpose – because he knows how much you love it when he has his hair combed back, forehead on display.
And his outfit – top buttons undone on his leopard print shirt, white coat.
He wasn’t supposed to be in the music video or even feature on the song, but you sure are glad he is. Seeing him in a cowboy costume once again had your pussy develop a heartbeat of its own.
He's fiddling with his sleeves, glancing at you in the reflection as you dip your head to place a sweet peck on his cheek, earning a pout from him.
Dropping his hands in his lap, he puckers his lips, tilting his head slightly so you can bend over again to find his mouth, fused with yours briefly.
His lips part with indignance, eyes wide, “really?”
You chuckle, hands sliding across his wide shoulders, “I don’t wanna ruin your makeup. Hey, you got the bolo tie and everything.”
“We’ll fix it before the shoot—” he informs, now interfering with the chain around his neck “—how was work?”
Bending over once again, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your cheek to his, “work was fine, until I got that selca from you.”
He flashes you a gummy smile, cheeks puffing up.
“You look sexy,” you whisper, lips brushing the curve of his ear, “so handsome. That pic didn’t do justice. So sexy with this shirt and—honestly you look good in anything.”
He cocks a brow teasingly, “anything?”
Grinning, you rise to your full height, now smoothing a hand down the back of his head, playing with the long strands of hair there, “anything. But you look even better naked.”
With your little distraction, you don’t notice the way his eyes darken, lips pursing.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You meet his gaze in the mirror, fingers lingering on his scalp, “wh—”
“Come here,” he orders, sinking in his chair a bit as he spreads his legs, gesturing to his lap.
He wouldn’t have to tell you twice.
You’re about to sit on one of his inviting thighs, when he tuts, hands curling around your hips.
“The other way.”
Heat builds between your legs at his tone, making a timid turn as he helps you roll your dress up, his faint touches driving you insane. You straddle his lap, unable to find a comfortable position on the wobbly chair, but his lap is warm and welcoming. His gaze, however, is hungry and heated.
Your gaze drops to his pouty lips, glistening after his tongue darts out, head cocked to the side as his long, wandering fingers draw patterns on your thighs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He repeats, not an ounce of mirth in his expression.
Before you can answer, his hands rest on your lower back, pulling you closer to his body. So close you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, equally as rapid as yours.
His breath fans across your lips, crotch dangerously close to your own. You’re afraid that you might crease his outfit. Plus, you saw his makeup artist waiting not too far from his dressing room, so she could walk in at any moment. Or any of the other staff working on set.
“Walking in here and calling me ‘sexy,’” he begins, eyebrows furrowing, “’handsome,’ teasing me as if you don’t know what that does to me.”
Mischievously, you lean forward to kiss up the line of jaw, tongue flicking across that one spot under his ear you know drives him crazy.
“That’s what you get for teasing me when I was at work,” you giggle, voice low and sultry, “thinking it’s okay to just send me thirst traps.”
His large palms squeeze around your hips, sending a flurry of emotions into your belly, settling right there in your core. You snap away when he bumps his shoulder into yours, staring at each other in silence. Challenging each other.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he jerks his hips up into yours, connecting your bodies briefly, and the sensation of his bulge pressing into your clit has your mind reeling. Before he can say another word, you wrap your fingers around his neck and press your lips to his, moaning as he drags his ring-clad fingers up your scalp to angle your head the way he likes, tongue rolling against yours.
You moan into the kiss, body ignited with desire as his free hand roams all over your body, pulling down one of the straps on your dress just as you begin to kiss down his neck, hearing him groan as your tongue curls around his Adam’s apple, bobbing under your assault.
“This is what you came here for,” he grunts, head tossed back as you turn your attention to the sides of his neck, suckling on the flushed skin, “couldn’t wait till I’m home to get filled with my cock.”
With his words, he grinds his hips into yours, prompting a breathless whisper from your glossy lips, finding his once more. He kisses you sloppily, tongue licking into your mouth. Your pussy throbs incessantly, wetter with his deep, gruff voice rumbling through you.
“So fucking desperate for my cock, nasty little slut.”
Once you gather your thoughts, hands placed on his shoulders so you can meet each roll of his hips – he ceases all movement, eyes firm and heady.
“Sit on my cock.”
Your throat feels dry, blinking at him stupidly.
“I said sit on my cock, take it out.”
His voice laced with dominance sends a shiver down your spine, rushing to undo his belt with shaky hands. Your movements stagger when he reaches under your dress and finds your nipples, rolling them between his calloused fingers.
Yoongi seems to lose his patience when you take too long, slapping your hands away before he unzips his pants, thick, weeping cock standing tall against his shirt.
“You did this,” he grunts, rolling his palm across the tip loosely, you nearly drool at the sight, “so you’re gonna do something about it. Sit up.”
“Fuck—” he positions you so you’re kneeling on the chair, dexterous fingers pushing your panties to the side before he slides four of his fingers through your folds, a wicked smile on his face “—so wet. Such a fat pussy. I bet you were thinking about my cock all the way here. Or even all day, couldn’t help yourself after last night. Huh?”
You nod meekly because it’s the truth. He’s all you can ever think about, especially when you had a very satisfying night before.
“So fucking swollen,” he grits, gathering your slick on his hand then taking it to his cock, wetting his length with your juices, “you’re dripping. Bet I won’t have to prep you huh?”
Shaking your head, you reach for him, silently pleading with him to fuck you already. But you love how mouthy he gets whenever you fuck, it only has you dripping even more. At this point, you’re clenching around nothing, lips pressed into a thin line when he teases two fingers at your honeyed entrance.
“But you’re a slut for my fingers, aren’t you? You’d want it anyway, huh?”
“Yoongi, please,” you grit, thighs shuddering when he pinches your clit, “just want your cock.”
“How bad?”
“So bad.”
You jolt when he taps your clit with the head of his cock, core pulsing continuously because he’s so close.
“Beg for it,” he husks, now teasing apart your folds with his sticky tip, “that’s not convincing enough.”
“Please Yoongi,” you whine, eyes scrunched shut, “please I want your cock so bad. Wanna be filled with your cock. Want you to cum inside me and stuff me with your cum so I can—fuck!”
Your spine goes taut when he sets you down on his cock, walls stretching to accommodate his length as you grab his wrists, the burn simmering into pleasure a lot faster with the kisses he places on your neck.
Cracking your eyes open, you find him sitting back, head tilted up as he watches you with a malicious smirk twisting his lips, hands tight around your hips. Half of the buttons of his shirt are undone, once neat hair now falling onto his face. You clench around him involuntarily.
“Ride me,” he grits out, thumbs holding up the hem of your dress so you both can watch the way your pussy swallows his girthy cock.
Fingers wrapped around the armrests, you lean back as he grabs hold of both your thighs, whimpering when you lift off his length and slam back down.
“That’s it,” he grunts, bottom lip caught between his teeth, “faster.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you roll your hips back and forth, aided by your hold on the chair to move even faster, moaning breathlessly as you feel his cock brush every ridge in your pussy, jaw unhinging.
“Fucking hell, riding my cock here, so fucking loud for me. Such a good girl.”
You nod obediently, ignoring the burn in your thighs as you feel yourself approach the edge of bliss, head lolling back.
He’s practically holding you up, moans joining yours as he begins to fuck into your from under, sweat beading his forehead. You whine when he buries his fingers in your, pushing your head forward so you’re looking at him through hazy eyes.
“Look at you, gonna cum? Huh?”
“Yes fuck Yoongi,” you cry out, your lower back pressing into his thighs as you fuck yourself onto him, breath tensing when you feel the tip of his cock nudge that spot deep inside you, slowing down to drag out the pleasure.
He tuts, guiding your hips onto his cock by himself, thighs now drenched in a mix of your sweat.
“I said faster, do you wanna cum?”
“Yes,” you shriek, eyes rolling back when his thumb flicks your clit, “’m so close.”
“Do you want me to cum inside you? Want me to fuck you full of my cum?”
“Yes,” you sigh, legs spreading even wider as you begin to roll your hips at your initial pace, the shameless sounds of your skin meeting his, squelches of his cock pressing into your pussy filling the air, “wanna feel your cum drip down my legs.”
He curses, nails nearly breaking the skin of your thighs as he holds you up with one hand, the other working on your engorged clit.
“Then you’ll be a good fucking whore and listen,” he grunts, speeding up his movements to have your mind going empty.
Nothing but the sounds of pure pleasure fill can be heard as you feel your mind go empty, trembling as he fucks into you feverishly, muttering under his breath when your walls flutter around him, signalling your release.
“Ah fuck.”
Your mouth hangs open, pussy sliding up and down his twitching cock as you bask in the bliss of your release, a strained laugh bubbling from your lips. He follows soon after, jaw set as he spills into you with three long spurts, one particularly loud moan echoing in the space.
“Holy shit, so fucking tight.”
Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he gathers you in his arms, pressing soft open-mouthed kisses across your neck and collarbones, which has your heart stuttering in your chest, to finally land on your lips, mouth hot and sweet against yours. You feel his cock soften inside you, cum staining your clothing but none of you make a move, gazing into each other’s eyes before reality hits you.
“Shit, your outfit—”
He brushes a few sweaty strands of hair away from your face, dismissing your question.
“Don’t worry about it.”
A knock on the door has you jumping in his lap, but he holds you firm against him.
“Come in.”
His makeup artist opens the door, her eyes on the carpet which gives you the idea that she must’ve heard everything. But Yoongi doesn’t seem to care.
“Sorry, they’re waiting for you. I’ll come back in ten minutes.” With a bow, she’s leaving the room, door flying shut behind her.
All Yoongi can do is laugh, while you’re chastising him with a slap to his chest, grateful that your dress was long enough to conceal your dignity. He still refuses to let you get off his lap, feline eyes crinkling as he smiles. He brushes a hand through his dark hair, flopping back into his chair with a knowing smile, chest heaving.
“How do you get better and better each time?”
You grin, still catching your breath, “maybe I’m just trying to convince you that it’s better when I ride you.”
His expression doesn’t waver as your fingers cup his jaw, tonguing at his earrings.
“When you’re under me.”
Then you feel his cock twitch inside you, stiffening in your sensitive walls.
In a split second, he’s rising from the chair with you in hand. You gasp when he sets you on the floor, cock still snug in your pussy.
He shrugs off his jacket, the same expression from earlier returning as he hooks your legs around his waist, long eyelashes fluttering.
“Yoongi,” you warn, speaking into his kiss, feeling the tug in your lower belly return, “you have less than ten minutes.”
Ignoring your words, he drills his cock deep inside you, prompting a whimper from your spit slick lips. Your battered walls accept him despite your conflict, quivering around each vein of cock.
“Lock your ankles.”
You do so without protest, confusion fading into arousal.
“Let me remind you—” he sighs, drawing his cock in and out of your pussy with resounding squelches “—how it feels to be under me.”
Your smile falls, knowing he’s about to fuck you senseless.
“I will sue you, Min Yoongi.”
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