for the love of god please listen to old users when we say this site works differently. that you can’t just sit around with a blank blog. make posts or reblog, but do something at least. this site works because we don’t have an unavoidable garbage algorithm forcefeeding us posts based on our likes. we do not need another fucking twitter, tiktok or instagram.
liking a post is literally useless here. we don’t have an algorithm. we see posts when people reblog them onto our dashes, they show up in a tag we’re following/searching, or they end up chucked into our recommended page (very inaccurate, basically just popular posts that may be vaguely related to your interests sometimes). liking doesn’t do anything. it’s just a button that’s there to show, hey, i saw this post. or you’re saving it for later
this is (partially) why art blogs are dying. if you don’t actually reblog the art posts you enjoy, they won’t reach anyone and just...stay there with a few likes.
-> summary jungkook knows how to please you so effortlessly.
-> word count 1.0k
-> warnings swearing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, jungkook knowing how to please 😩, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe y'all)
-> author's note i don't even know what came over me when i wrote this but i listened to the song try/effortless by dvsn and it definitely adds a certain vibe to the story :')
You know why you’re here. Standing in front of Jungkook, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes focused on you. He’s dying to get his hands on you, mostly his cock hardening at you being already breathless and the light from the early morning shining onto your exposed breasts. You’re glowing. Glowing in his bedroom while your hands roam on his chest, admiring the tattoos that decorate his arm firmly gripping your hair. He’s needy. He’s so fucking needy for you.
The tension rises between you, your lips attach to his neck – tongue rolling softly causing him to moan in response. Jungkook’s hands make contact with your thong, pulling it roughly aside, losing all patience with you.
You had teased the shit out of him since you came over. Giving him the classic fuck me eyes, complimenting his smell, how good he looks and especially how much you want his cock tonight.
You’ve always been like this, so easily horny for Jungkook as he is for you. You don’t know what it is about him. His character, his voice, the way he so effortlessly knows how to kiss you till your heat is at the verge of dripping further down your thighs. You just can’t get enough. It’s like he’s a walking drug for you and your body. Your body responds so well to him as well as himself to you.
‘’I’m too impatient.’’ He pulls his cock towards your entrance, the tip of it making direct contact to your clit. He lets it stay there for a while, before rubbing it back and forth causing friction for you. The thing you loved about fucking Jungkook was how he always did something new. Whether it was a new position, a new feeling, it was all new. You’ve never imagined yourself moaning over his tip pressing itself to your clit. Something about it just felt good.
Jungkook doesn’t waste another second, latching his mouth on every part of your upper body. His tongue runs from your shoulders, to your neck and all the way down to your breasts, nibbling softly on an erected nipple.
‘’I fucking love kissing your body.’’ His words struck a chord for you, making your head tilt back and allowing him more access. He chuckles at your actions continuing regardless, his tip still massaging your clit making you more desperate to get him fully inside of you.
‘’Jungkook,’’ you breathe out his name, his lips still roaming all over your body.
You need to have him, to have him so close to your body – so close your skins burn against each other. You grab his face, stopping him in his tracks. ‘’Now I’m too impatient.’’ He grins, his bunny smile on full display before he pushes you down on the bed, taking off your thong before he lays in between your legs. The position is simple, although this is Jeon Jungkook and he always knows how to do it right.
He doesn’t hesitate to grab your legs, placing them on his shoulders. He loves seeing you like this. Your hair all over his pillow, you biting your lip in anticipation of him nestling himself in between your walls.
Regardless of how many times you’ve fucked, Jungkook still streches you out nicely making you gasp followed by a raspy moan. You’ll never grow tired of this. How good Jungkook is at taking his time with being inside of you before moving his hips. His control is amazing, his tip barely leaves your entrance before it pulls back in again, causing a rush through your body.
Jungkook keeps going, moans filling the room from both of you as you grab the roots of his hair pulling him down for a messy kiss.
‘’Nobody fucks me like you do, ah shit–’’ Your grip tightens in his hair, him grunting in response of your actions and he’s almost about to come undone seeing you so fucked out in front of him. But what mostly sends Jungkook into space, are your words. He knows it’s your way of dirty talking – praising him over how good he feels, his mouth, his fingers… – but somehow hearing nobody can do it like him makes him fucking proud of himself. It definitely motivates him to continue, his pace quickening and your eyes flutter shut to let yourself go all over him.
You make such a mess all over his cock, painting it fully with your arousal and the sight is something Jungkook will never forget.
He’s so close, so fucking close yet he wants to feel you. Feel you in other ways like never before making him pull out of you. You’re surprised by the decision he takes but your mind is so hazy you barely register what he’s about to do.
Jungkook smears his cock in between your folds, grinding himself against your arousal and you immediately moan in surprise of how good it feels. Jungkook goes down to kiss you, his cock still grinding against you as if he’s fucking you. You whine against his lips, causing his to twitch to a smirk, ‘’fuck yeah you like that?’’ You only hum in response and before you can blink, Jungkook pushes back inside of you – your back arching in response.
It’s intense yet sensual, he moves his body so smoothly against your own and it creates the most unbelievable pleasure which you have never felt. Your words are stuck inside of your throat when you normally love to praise just well he’s taking you or even filling you up. But you don’t. Your mind is almost on another planet and you’re already so close to finishing once again.
Jungkook feels you convulse around him and it makes his cock twitch inside of, his low pants shortening indicating he’s close. He closes his eyes, focusing on coming inside of you. Your body can’t help but come undone when you focus on how hot Jungkook looks, concentrating on giving you his cum. His brows are drawn closer together, lips tucked in between his teeth and the way his hair is a bit wet from him sweating.
He at last let's go, his hips snapping shut against your core, giving you everything he can before pulling out gently and peppering your naked form with kisses. The act makes your heart beat rapidly over how gentle and sensual he’s always been towards you. He never once made you feel less when you slept together, always making sure you were okay but foremost knowing how to please you so effortlessly. No one does it like him.
OMFG THIS IS SO AMAZING the way you've emphasized some words show exactly how shit works and im here for the burn OMFG this took my breath away wtaf..the details are way too 😳
i didn't get a single notificationof me getting tagged here. this is why im late :(
Here's a little lesson in the Tumblr algorithm, for those who don't know: the only way for a post to be spread to someone's dash, after it's already been made, is through reblogs. Likes do very little for boosting visibility. Besides adding notes so a post has a higher likelihood of appearing at the top of search results for the tags they're featured in, likes are just caches to show/store posts you've liked. They do not significantly increase the likelihood that the post will be seen by more people. The only way to ensure this is to reblog it to your own blog, so your followers will see it.
Also, this isn't Twitter. I know that on Twitter, it's largely expected for most of your profile to consist of mostly your own tweets, and not too many retweets. Tumblr is extremely different, in that the entire site is made up of shared posts. The site is designed for maybe 5% of the content on your dash to be original content at any given moment, while 95% will be reblogs from others, and that's perfectly acceptable and expected, actually.
This is all to say that, I know a lot of you come from Tik Tok or Twitter, where liking content has a direct, positive effect on the content's visibility. I know that your FYP is dictated by what gets more likes/what the people you follow like, and that Twitter shows posts your following likes on the TL. But Tumblr is extremely different. So please, don't hesitate to reblog shit on this website, especially art/writing. If you liked an artist's work, the best thing you can do for them is reblog it because simply liking it will do very little to boost their post's visibility. This doesn't just apply to art either; if there's a PSA, theory, etc., that you enjoyed and want more people to see, the only way for that to happen is to reblog.
genre: domestic-ass smut (honestly kind of fluffy bc i am Whipped For Min Yoongi)
pairing: yoongi x reader
summary: you manage to entice your boyfriend into taking a break from unloading boxes to unload something else instead.
word count: 2.6k
contains: explicit sexual content bloop bloop !!! established relationship, up to you if it's idol-verse or not idk 🤷♀️, cunnilingus, blowjob, reader gets a facial oop, tiny bit of praise kink, long-haired yoongi with a hair tie on his wrist 🥵🥵, yoongi has domestic soft dom energy, reader is yoongisexual lmao
A/N: my water sign placements really Jumped out with this one...... that's all i'll say lmao i am lowkey embarrazzed and not responsible for any delulu feelings this may stir up 👀👀 BUT BOY IT SURE WAS NICE TO WRITE A YOONGI THAT ISN'T THE ONE FROM LDOMLT !!! even i need a break from that asshole sometimes 😂 hope y'all enjoyyyyy 💜
this is also on AO3!
~*~
“Remind me again why we didn’t hire movers?” The question comes out strained as you struggle to lift a particularly heavy box.
Your boyfriend watches you carefully to make sure you’re lifting safely– if you have to hear him say ‘with your knees, not your back’ one more time, you think you might lose it. Then he grabs another box off the truck and follows you up the drive to the house.
“I didn’t realize you had so much crap,” he says with a wry laugh. You make a mental note to get him back for that later.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple, and when you finally deposit the box on the kitchen floor, you reach up to wipe it away with the back of your hand. The heat wave that’s been ongoing for the last few weeks is stifling, but Yoongi made a huge fuss about not turning on the AC until you got everything off the truck. Something about how you’d just be leaving the door open, and he’s not going to waste money to air condition the entire street.
Your boyfriend is such an old man sometimes, honestly. He’s lucky you love him.
Yoongi’s mouth pulls down at the corners as he struggles to read the label on the box in his arms, determining where he needs to drop it. It’s one of the many endearing faces he makes that you find so sexy, even though you objectively shouldn’t. A little thrill of excitement runs through you at the reminder that this is, in fact, really happening. You’ll get to see all of him, every morning and every night.
His face, and… You follow him down the hall, appreciating the view. His cute little butt, and…
Gingerly setting the box on the floor, he stands upright and sweeps his hair off his forehead for a moment in an attempt to cool down. His hair.
Yoongi claims he hasn’t gotten it cut because he’s been so busy with all the planning and packing required for the move, and maybe that’s true. You have also threatened to burn down any salon he makes an appointment with, and it was a joke, but god. He looks so fucking good like this. If he actually admitted to keeping it long just to make you happy, you’d probably propose on the spot.
He glances up and catches you openly staring, sticking his tongue out to indicate how overheated he is. Then he waggles his eyebrows and your core throbs a little. Fucking hell, the things this man does to you.
Your heart jumps in your chest as he walks back down the hallway to close the distance between you. Before you have time to process it, his thigh is slotting between your legs, his hips pinning you against the wall as he finds your lips with his own. It’s enough to make you gasp into his mouth, and you can feel his smug smile at your reaction.
Yoongi loves to make you come undone.
He pulls away far too quickly, and you whine a little at him leaving you unsatisfied. Not that you could ever get enough of kissing him, but you’d at least like to try.
“Come on,” his voice is quiet and low in his throat. “We’re nearly done with these boxes. Then we can properly christen this place.”
You don’t want to move any more stupid boxes. You want him to turn you around and take you right up against the wall. But you lose your will to argue when he gently strokes your arm with his hand, and you look down to see the thin black elastic around his wrist.
Since the two of you got together, your friends have relentlessly bullied you for this fact: you are insanely whipped for your boyfriend. They’ve dubbed you “Yoongisexual” at this point because literally anything he does becomes a kink for you. Including the simple act of wearing a hair tie around his wrist. It’s something you’ve done for most of your life, so when he kept complaining about his long hair getting in the way, you bought him a pack of elastics, mostly as a joke.
But then he started wearing one around his wrist, and you realized very quickly that it was no longer a joke.
You slip a finger under the thin black band and tug on it gently, and he smirks at you, because you both know exactly what he uses it for. “Soon. I promise.”
As much as you want to be good and do what you’re told, you’ve run out of patience. When Yoongi moves to head for the front door again, you tighten your grip around his wrist, forcing him to turn back to you. Then you slide his hand up your skirt and beneath the waistband of your panties so he can feel how soaked you are.
“How am I supposed to go back to lifting boxes when you did this to me?”
A groan escapes his lips as his fingers brush over your drenched folds and circle around your warm, wet center. You smile because you know damn well you’re on equal footing in this relationship: Yoongi is entirely whipped for you, too.
He presses one of his perfect fingers into your tight heat, curling it to rub circles on your g-spot, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. Your head tilts back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed. “Ah, fuck.”
Yoongi grunts in response, and when you open your eyes again to take him in, he’s looking at you like he’s ready to devour you.
Withdrawing his hand from your panties, he slips the other between your back and the wall, encouraging you to stand up and move towards the kitchen. You follow the direction of his touch, knees instantly a little weak. When he guides you to the island in the center of the wide, sunny room, you turn back to him in confusion.
He wastes no time on explanation, arms wrapping just under your ass to pick you up and set you easily on the counter. You squeak at unexpectedly being lifted off the ground like it’s nothing: he really is getting shredded from all those Pilates classes.
Yoongi is already working to strip you of your shoes and socks, and the look on his face is so focused, with a blazing intensity that’s bordering on anger. Fuck, you love it when he gets like this. It only takes him a matter of seconds to finish the task, and then his hands are reaching up your thighs.
“What about the boxes?” You ask demurely.
“I don’t give a shit.” Yoongi says, his voice deadly serious. “The neighbors can have them.”
You lift your hips to assist as he pushes your skirt up and grabs the band of your thong, pulling it down and off of you entirely. He sends it sailing over to the other side of the kitchen, and now there’s nothing separating your cunt from the cold marble countertop. He grabs you by the hips and scoots you forward just a little more, until your ass is almost hanging off the edge of the island.
You want it so bad, but there’s still a tiny part of you that protests. You have to say it. “But Yoongi, this is where we’re going to eat.”
When he glances up at you, quirking an eyebrow, you realize what you’ve set him up for. “I know,” he says coolly. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Just as you open your mouth to argue, Yoongi reaches for the hair tie on his wrist, deliberately poking at your known weakness. Pulling it off, he places it between his teeth as his hands reach up to run through his hair. He rakes the dark strands back into a small, low ponytail at the base of his neck, then grabs the elastic out of his mouth and loops it around a few times until it's secure.
You think to yourself that you have no idea how you got so lucky, and then he brings his mouth to you and that thought is reinforced a thousand fold.
With a heady sigh of relief, you lean back, bracing yourself on your elbows and draping your legs over his shoulders. Yoongi’s already groaning against you as he slides his tongue up your dripping wet folds. He loves the way you taste, would spend hours between your legs if you’d let him– which sometimes you absolutely do. And he’s fucking good at it.
It would be impossible to make a full ranked list of all the things you love about your boyfriend, but his tongue is definitely in the top five. He traces it up to settle at your clit, flicking against the sensitive bud with short, deft strokes, and you make a mental correction as you groan and buck up into him. Top three.
He slips two fingers into your pussy this time, and your next moan is nearly a sob as he starts to press down hard with them against your front wall, matching the rhythm of his tongue. “Yes, baby, fuuuuuck,” you cry out.
“Mm-hmm,” Yoongi hums in response against your cunt, and the buzz of his mouth drives you fucking crazy, as does the satisfied look on his face that you see when you glance down. Your boyfriend loves doing things he’s good at, which certainly includes making you come.
And you’re already close to the edge, a fresh wave of arousal gushing out of you as he takes you apart so expertly. You’re sure you’ve made a mess of the counter beneath your ass.
You’re so worked up now, inches from your orgasm, that you can’t keep quiet, moans interspersed with breathless swearing and pleading.
“Fuck, Yoongi, please, don’t fucking stop,” you whimper, and his pace only increases slightly, his perfect rhythm never faltering. You can hear the squelch of his fingers curled inside you, the slick slip of his tongue across your clit, flicking over and over, and your legs are starting to shake.
“Ohhh shit,” you groan loudly as you feel your core start to tighten around him. You reach one hand forward to brush a few loose strands of hair off his forehead, reveling in his absolute perfection as your climax approaches. “God fucking dammit, Yoongi, yes, yes–” your words break off with a loud moan as the wave of pleasure surges and your walls begin to pulse. Your arms tremble with the effort of keeping you propped up as your orgasm rips through you, your back arching violently.
It feels like you’re coming forever, and Yoongi gently slows his pace to ride you through it, your cunt fluttering around his fingers again and again. He waits until you give a soft whine of overstimulation, then finally withdraws, trailing light kisses along your hips and thighs.
“Oh my god, I love you so much,” you manage to gasp, and you hear him laugh a little.
“Come show me how much,” he instructs, and you don’t need any more encouragement. Your legs threaten to give out as you slip off the counter, and you sink to your knees as gently as possible to avoid banging them on the wood floor. You pull his dick out of his sweatpants and can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise at the weight and thickness of him in your hand.
You’ve never dated anyone who gets as hard as Yoongi does just from performing oral. When you think back on your exes, you usually had to coax them to attention after eating you out. But you’ve never had that problem with Yoongi. You swear he nearly gets as much pleasure from it as you do.
This thought is all but confirmed when you take him in your mouth, tasting the salt of the pre-cum that’s already leaked out of his tip, and he groans at the feeling. “I’m not gonna last long, baby,” he admits, and you take that as a challenge.
You grip his thighs with your hands and start to bob your mouth along his length, hollowing your cheeks and applying extra pressure with your tongue in exactly the way you know he likes. You swear you feel his knees nearly buckle.
“Fuck yeah,” he hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” You hum a little, pleased at the praise, and pick up the pace at which you’re swallowing him down.
Yoongi doesn’t babble quite as much as you do when he’s close, instead preferring to make heady little grunts and groans; they’re the sexiest sounds in the world as far as you’re concerned. The low timbre of his voice is enough to make your cunt flutter back to life, as is the way he squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back, hips bucking into your mouth to match your pace.
“Baby,” he groans, and you glance up at him again, not letting your tempo change. “Wanna paint your face, fuck. Can I?”
He doesn’t do it particularly often, but you know finishing on your face is something Yoongi loves. It’s one of the many, many things you had no interest in until this man waltzed into your life and pulled out all the freakiest parts of you that you didn’t even know existed.
Which is why when he asks, you don’t hesitate. You slide off him with a wet pop and sit back on your heels, staring up at him with your eyes wide and your tongue out.
“Goddamn,” he grunts as he brings his hand to his cock, pumping himself hard and fast. “So fucking good for me.” He only has to stroke a few more times before he makes a final strangled whine, white ropes of cum spilling out of him and across your waiting face and tongue.
Yoongi milks every last drop out with a few gasps of effort, and you giggle a little despite yourself. You just love him, every part, every noise.
As if he can read your mind, he says it back. “Love you. Fuck.”
You try to hold your head still to keep any rogue drops from running into your eyes. Yoongi looks around, and you see a worried expression start to cross his face as he tucks his dick into his pants.
“Shit, baby. I don’t think we’ve unpacked the towels yet.” Your shoulders shake a little in more disbelieving giggles. “Hang on, hang on,” he calls back to you as he disappears out of the kitchen, moving quickly.
It’s only for a brief moment that you have to just sit there and laugh, beads of cum trailing down your jaw, and then he returns, dropping onto his knees next to you. He’s holding the roll of paper towels you’ve been using to clear errant dust in the new house as you go.
“Should have planned ahead. Let me clean you up.” Yoongi says softly, tearing off a few sheets and dabbing at your face. He soaks through them quickly and has to grab more. “Fuck, you made me come a lot,” he says with an embarrassed laugh, and that only makes you laugh more.
He wipes the last of it from your temples, then lets the damp crumpled sheets drop to the kitchen floor, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for a sweet, gentle kiss. You smile against his mouth in an overwhelming daze of happiness.
When you break away, he presses another quick kiss to your forehead, then murmurs against your hairline. “Well, that’s one room down. Let’s finish this up, and then you can help me decide if I should bend you over the couch or my desk first.” You bury your face in his shoulder at the mental image, and his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. “God, I fucking love you.”
genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)
pairing: yoongi x reader
summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.
word count: 8.2k (lowkey gagged that this is exactly the same length as the last chapter o__o)
contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! masturbation, use of a vibrator, teasing, plenty of fantasizing, dirty talk that made me **BLUSH** while writing it, and literally everyone is horny lmao. lil bit of alcohol mention as well,, also no jimin in this chapter sorry babes (we miss u jimin, i promise he'll be back for the next one)
A/N: thank you all so much for your patience and for being so fucking lovely to me all the time, i don't deserve it. and don't you dare flame me for the ending I TOLD Y'ALL IT WAS A SLOW MF BURN 😤😤
read on AO3! / read part 3 here!
~*~
Your alarm on Monday morning comes far too soon. It doesn’t help that you lost the entirety of the weekend to wallowing in bed— Saturday to an actual hangover and Sunday to an emotional one. Despite only crawling out of your pit of despair to eat and use the bathroom, you aren’t even well-rested; sleep was hard to come by when you couldn’t so much as close your eyes without watching it all play back again.
Your drunk ass stumbling into the Genius Lab. Yoongi jerking himself off, his long fingers gripped firmly around the length of his cock, then opening his eyes to find you watching. And of course, the absolutely ruined pair of Jordans he had to throw in the dumpster behind the building, while you stood there shivering in your stupid fucking club dress and watched him, trying not to cry.
You don’t even have it in you to find that part funny, which makes you that much more upset. You should be able to enjoy the destruction of his property, but you can’t. The whole thing is just too humiliating.
It takes all the strength you have to ignore the little voice in your head that tells you to email in your resignation letter and stay in bed until the earth swallows you up. Somehow you manage to drag yourself through your morning routine and make it to your godforsaken 6 AM boxing class. With what feels like no rage left in your system to power you through, the class is hard, and your movements are uncoordinated and sluggish.
Jungkook apparently holds his tongue for as long as he possibly can, until you step into the elevator to head up to the company floor. The minute the doors shut and it’s only the two of you, you slump against the wall, letting your eyes drop closed. You could literally fall asleep standing up right here, you think.
“You seem tired,” Jungkook says, and when you don’t say anything, you hear him laugh a little under his breath. “And you were actually hitting at 50% strength today. My hands don’t even hurt. Everything okay?”
You grunt softly, your eyes fluttering open. “No. I am tired.”
The elevator dings, signaling your floor, and he hums softly, then continues. “You know, they also have classes at times that aren’t 6 AM. I don’t mind going after work instead.”
“That would be nice.” You glance over at him to see he’s chewing on the corner of his lip, almost like he’s nervous.
“Can I give you my number?” He asks. “That way you can just text me if you ever want to do another time. It’s not a big deal.”
“Sure, Jungkook. I appreciate it.” The elevator doors slide open and you follow him out, reaching into your bag for your phone. You retrieve it as he recites off the numbers, and you quickly copy them down. “Just so you know, I am absolutely saving you as Baby Star Candy.”
He laughs shyly, like he’s embarrassed by the nickname, and you can’t help but glance up to smile at him.
Exhausted and slow on the uptake as you are, you’re completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.
When you turn to see Yoongi leaning up against the glass front doors of the office, you consider launching yourself through the nearest window. Particularly because this is Yoongi as you’ve never seen him before. Gone is the exhausted-looking workaholic in sweats and oversized t-shirts that you’re used to being menaced by.
In his place, standing in front of you, is this Yoongi: neatly styled hair, skin that’s practically glowing, and worst of all: in a perfectly-fitted, all-black suit. Taking him in sends a bolt of shame and desire straight to your core, and you grit your teeth, working hard to keep a neutral expression. Although you don’t know why you bother— you’re sure he already knows what you’re thinking. Fucking mind reader.
You snap out of your stupor long enough to realize Jungkook’s contact is still open on your phone, and you hurry to save it.
“Seriously, text me any time,” Jungkook adds softly, because of course he’s oblivious to whatever the fuck is happening to you right now.
Yoongi’s eyebrows raise slightly, and you watch his eyes jump back and forth between the two of you and then to your phone in your hand, clearly processing the exchange he just witnessed. He’s fighting to hide a smirk, but you can see it toying at the corners of his lips as he makes a little noise of surprise.
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you wonder what sort of assumptions he might be making about your friendship with Jungkook.
Jungkook speaks again before Yoongi can make whatever snide comment he was mentally workshopping. “Good morning, Min Suga. Do you… have a presentation today?” He gestures vaguely to Yoongi’s, well, everything.
Yoongi looks down in mock surprise, as if he’s just noticed that he’s in something that isn’t a hoodie. Your stomach flips as he preens a little, extending an arm to pick an imaginary piece of lint from the sleeve of his suit jacket. Even in the bleak office lighting, your eyes are instantly drawn to the thick veins that run along the backs of his hands and his delicate fingers, adorned with several silver rings today. Those fucking hands haunted you all weekend.
Desperate for a distraction, you busy yourself with digging in your purse for the office keys.
“It’s funny you should ask, JK.”
You’re not fast enough to suppress the face you reflexively make. JK? Since when are the two of them on nickname terms? You sneak a glance at Jungkook but he gives no discernible reaction.
“I guess we can blame our lovely admin,” Yoongi continues, and you lose your train of thought entirely. That one compliment alone—if it can even be called that—is like ice in your veins, enough to send a shiver straight up the back of your neck. God, what is this man doing to you? “She really packed my calendar for today. I figured I should look nice for the reporters.”
Your hand finally closes around the set of keys at the very bottom of your bag, and you will yourself not to take Yoongi’s bait. Saying nothing, you move past him and Jungkook to unlock the front door.
They both trail in after you, and you’re distantly aware of Jungkook congratulating Yoongi on the nomination and asking how it feels as you set your things on your desk and circle around to take a seat. You’re hoping they’ll wander off down the hallway together, but Yoongi makes no move to leave, so Jungkook stays, too.
Doing your best to telegraph your desire to be left alone, you open your laptop and attempt to feign work.
Their casual small talk eventually trails off, and when you look away from your screen after a beat of silence, they’re both looking back at you. Jungkook’s brows are slightly furrowed in worry, or maybe just confusion, and when you dare to glance at Yoongi, his expression is so intense that you immediately drop your gaze again.
“Sorry, JK. Can I have her for a minute?”
Even though you’re not looking at him, you can hear the fucking smirk in Yoongi’s voice, and it takes everything in you not to crawl under your desk.
Instead you glance up at Jungkook, who’s still looking at you. He just barely raises his eyebrows, as if to ask the silent question of whether you want to be left alone with Yoongi or not. You wish you knew the answer. It would certainly make your life a lot easier.
Even so, something about the now-obvious concern on his face is enough to snap you out of your pity party. You refuse to be utterly helpless. It’s not like you’ve never been attracted to someone before, and just because you are, it doesn’t mean Yoongi gets to hold it over your head. You’re strong, dammit, and certainly stubborn— perhaps to a fault. But in this situation, it works to your advantage.
You give Jungkook a nearly imperceptible nod, trying to communicate with your eyes that you’re fine, that he doesn’t need to worry. You can handle Min Yoongi.
Jungkook raps his knuckles softly against your desk in response. “Sure thing. Have a good day.”
You force yourself to inhale slowly as he disappears down the hallway, and you mentally stomp on the wave of panic that surges in your chest. You can do this, you remind yourself as you level your gaze on Yoongi, hoping your face betrays no emotion.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
“I hope so.” He leans forward, long hair skimming over his eyes as he braces his forearms against your desk. You instinctively scoot your chair backwards to put a little more space between the two of you, and you can tell he’s doing this on purpose, trying to get you flustered.
You tell yourself that it isn’t working.
“I need a favor,” Yoongi starts, and he pauses just long enough for your mind to wander to places it shouldn’t. He runs his tongue along his back teeth, and you can’t help but suspect that he’s thinking the same thing. You pray that at his current vantage point he can’t see your thighs squeeze together under your desk.
“You see, I’m pretty behind on registering copyright for my last… dozen tracks or so. I figured I’d get it done today, but someone clearly had other plans for me. Think that’s something you can handle?” He tilts his head slightly to one side as he asks the question.
To prove that you’re not scared of him—though you’re not sure which of you you’re trying to prove it to—you force yourself to maintain eye contact. The open, albeit still mildly self-satisfied look on his face is so different from the bored, annoyed expression you’re used to. Not to mention the fact that he’s genuinely asking you for help without taking a single dig at your lack of professional experience. Your head hurts from the whiplash of it all.
He runs a hand through his dark hair, sweeping it back to expose his forehead, and you realize you need to say whatever words will get him away from you as fast as possible. Especially while he’s in that suit.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll take care of it.”
Yoongi blinks, making a face like he’s a little surprised he got his way so easily, then pushes himself off your desk. “Great. I’ll be in conference rooms all day, so...” He trails off, a glint in his eyes. “You can let yourself into the lab whenever. Since you know the code.”
You swallow hard, unable to come up with a good response. Yoongi pauses for a second, as if he might say something else, but he seems to decide against it. Instead, he turns and heads off down the hallway without another word.
You’ve never been so thankful to distract yourself with work.
Yoongi’s request hangs over your head for the rest of the day, and you put it off for as long as you possibly can. It’s only once you’ve answered every email in your inbox and followed up on all of your outstanding requests that you finally relent. You quite literally have nothing else to do, so you groan inwardly and drag yourself down the hall to the Genius Lab.
You realize your hands are shaking as you punch in the code and turn the handle. It’s impossible to keep the memories at bay as you enter the room and let the door shut behind you. Just do your job, you tell yourself, and you cross to Yoongi’s desk and take a seat.
When you glance down, you see he’s left you a Post-It with specific details on the tracks and all the information required to file the copyright registrations. Gently, you jiggle the mouse to wake his computer and begin to work. As much as you want to knock this task out quickly so you don’t have to spend a single extra second in his damn lab, it’s hard to focus; you find your eyes continually drifting away from the computer screen to sweep over the room.
Yoongi was sitting in this very chair that night— which was somehow only a few days ago. And he made it sound like that wasn’t the first time he’d gotten off at work.
It really shouldn’t be an attractive premise. If anything, it should probably be a complaint to HR. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop the little twinges running straight to your core, the heat that pools gently in your belly at the thought. Especially not when you remember his soft groans and the way the tip of his cock glistened with his arousal.
Rolling your shoulders in a small stretch, you lean against his chair experimentally, letting your head tip back the way his did, wondering what the moment must have felt like from his point of view. What he could have been thinking about. You allow your legs to drop open slightly, moving your ass in a slow circle against the chair to just barely mitigate some of the ache between your legs.
It occurs to you at this moment that you are insanely fucking turned on, and then you hear the door handle turn.
Shit. Your legs immediately snap shut and you sit up as fast as you can, trying to remember where you’d left off with the task as the door is pushed open.
“Well, I never want to speak to another human again,” Yoongi grunts from behind you, sounding much more like himself, his voice a little hoarse. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of turning around.
“I’m almost done if you want to take over and finish.” You say softly, immediately mentally kicking yourself for choosing that word. Did he finish? You grit your teeth as the thought enters your mind before you can stop it. You do not need to be asking yourself this question right now. Or ever.
“Let’s see.”
Yoongi’s voice is suddenly much closer to you than it was a moment ago, and you regret not standing up when you had the chance. You freeze where you are in his desk chair, spine ramrod straight, unsure of what to do.
And then he hums a sigh right in your ear, and it’s enough to make your cunt throb.
Your thighs quiver with how hard you press them together, as if that somehow might undo the growing wetness between your legs. The feeling of his breath on your neck is only making it that much worse.
You sneak a glance up at Yoongi and realize he isn’t looking at you at all, but intently studying your work on his desktop screen. His arms are on either side of your chair, right hand on the mouse while his left leans against the desk, effectively boxing you in.
Unable to do anything but focus on how very close he is to you, you lose all pretense and stare openly at his side profile. You watch as a muscle in his jaw works while he contemplates the screen, and you’re forced to swallow hard as a whole new kind of realization floods through you.
Despite the fact that he is very much still your asshole life-ruiner coworker Min Yoongi, the facts are indisputable: you want him. Badly, it turns out. And you desperately wish you didn’t.
“Looks good. I can do the rest.” Yoongi’s voice snaps you back to reality, but you aren’t fast enough to avert your gaze before he glances over and catches you staring at him. You see a flash of something in his dark eyes.
“Everything okay?”
At this, you finally tear your gaze away, staring down dumbly at his keyboard instead. “I’m fine,” you say plainly, not bothering to elaborate. If recent events are any indicator, he can already read every inch of what you’re feeling on your face. No point in trying to hide it.
He removes his hand from the mouse and you seize the opportunity, immediately turning the desk chair away from him to stand up. The lab is starting to feel increasingly claustrophobic with the two of you alone in here together.
You head straight for the door, saying nothing, and your hand has just closed around the handle when he stops you dead in your tracks with a single word.
“Thanks.”
You have no choice but to instantly whip around, you’re that shocked by the praise.
Yoongi is leaned up against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, surveying you. “I appreciate the—” he pauses, as if looking for the right words, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smirk when he finds them. “—helping hand.”
You stare blankly back at him, having no idea what to make of any of this.
“I promise I’ll be out on time tonight,” he offers.
“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, and then you finally turn the knob and shut the door behind you.
Yoongi keeps his word, slipping silently out of the office right before 6:00; your mind is still reeling for the entirety of your bus ride home. When you make it in the front door of your apartment, you let your purse drop to the floor and kick off your shoes, then head immediately for the fridge.
Bottle of rosé and wine glass in hand, you collapse onto the couch and instinctively retrieve your phone. It’s only once you have your text thread with Jimin open that you reconsider. You know he has intensive choreo rehearsals all week, but even if he didn’t, the thought of how he’d squeal at this plot twist to your TV show life is more than you can handle right now.
But he’s your best friend. You’ve never kept anything from him.
You sigh and chuck your phone to the other end of the couch, making a silent promise to tell him soon. Very soon. Just not tonight.
You’re restless, unable to get comfortable or make it through more than five minutes of anything you try to watch. You find yourself desperately wishing you could get all this energy out of your system. A glass of rosé doesn’t help, neither does the second, nor the rest of the bottle. Not even your skin care routine manages to relax you, which certainly constitutes an emergency.
As you crawl into bed, head swimming slightly from the wine, you find yourself instinctively reaching into your nightstand. This should do the trick, you think as you slide the drawer open and retrieve your small pink bullet vibrator. You tilt your hips up and shimmy the thin shorts you wore to bed down your thighs, allowing yourself full access.
Relaxing back against the pillows, you let your eyes drop closed as you search your brain for the proper fantasy. You decide on your current go-to: Kang Taemu in one of his perfectly fitted suits.
You’ve been on edge for hours to say the least, so it doesn’t surprise you how easily the tip of the toy slips through your folds— you’re drenched, and probably have been all day.
Letting out a soft sigh, you click the base of the vibrator to turn it on, and the feeling of finally being stimulated after wanting it so badly is enough to make you whine a little.
Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you do your best to keep that fantasy in your mind’s eye. But it’s proving elusive, for some reason. You keep losing your grip on Ahn Hyoseop’s puppy face. His eyes slowly change from round and endearing to mysterious and calculating. It’s enough to make your own eyes snap open as you realize where your mind is going.
You turn your vibrator off and give yourself a few seconds, shifting your legs in an attempt to send some relief to your tightly wound core. It really should not be this hard to masturbate.
Determined, you bring the bullet to your clit again and press the button, then immediately press it again to increase the speed. Your eyes roll back in your head as you grind your hips down into the mattress because fuck, it feels so good.
When you revisit the fantasy, you have to bite back the urge to groan in frustration as Hyoseop’s plush, pouty lips morph into a smug, all-too-familiar smirk. This is not fucking happening.
You turn the vibrator off once more and fully sit up, aggressively shaking your head as if to fling the thoughts out of your brain.
Note to self, you think bitterly. Stop watching workplace dramas until you’re done with your own.
Leaning back against the headboard, you decide to throw out the fantasy. You’ve stopped and started enough at this point that you’re desperate; you don’t need a full plot. Spreading your legs with a soft whimper, you press the toy into you and turn it on, cranking it up to the highest setting.
You continue to make little noises of pleasure as images flash through your mind, sending you closer and closer to that edge. A wet pink tongue darting between full lips. Dark eyes blown black with lust. Strong forearms surrounding you, the jerk of an Adam’s apple, long delicate fingers, and a pale, perfect cock sinking into your dripping heat.
Your head tilts back as your arousal coils tightly inside you and your orgasm finally, finally crests. As the wave surges and you get lost in the overwhelming pleasure, you let yourself really moan.
“Fuuuuck, Yoongi.”
Relief crashes over you, your hips rolling up as your walls flutter, until you finally ride out the aftershocks and the vibrations become overwhelming. You turn the bullet off and sigh contentedly, feeling thoroughly spent.
It takes about three seconds for your brain to catch up enough to process what just happened. When it does, you make a squeak of sheer panic and fling your vibrator across the room.
You sit all the way up and look around frantically, convinced for a brief moment that he might somehow be in your bedroom. It makes no sense, but you’re sure that somehow Yoongi knows what you’ve done. What you said. No matter where you go, it feels like you can’t escape him. Not even while masturbating, apparently.
Collapsing back into the bed, you shove a pillow over your face and scream into it.
When you finally relent and toss it away, you dejectedly reach for your phone, pulling your shorts up with your other hand. Your heart sinks when you see it’s already well past midnight.
Worrying the inside of your cheek with your teeth, you pull up Baby Star Candy in your phone and shoot a quick text asking if you can do a class after work instead. Jungkook doesn’t respond— he’s probably sleeping like a perfect baby angel, but you feel less bad as you adjust your alarm back by an hour, trying to give yourself a fighting chance at being even slightly rested in the morning.
The post-orgasm exhaustion starts to descend, despite the shame still swirling in your chest about the mental image that got you there. Confused, pissed off, and still unfortunately horny, you turn over in bed and wrap your arms around your pillow, allowing sleep to overtake you.
~*~
Jungkook is there to greet you with a big grin and a tiny wave as you step off the elevator the next morning. He seems wholly unbothered by the deviation from your typical routine.
“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks as you unlock the front doors.
“I did.” It’s not a lie. You slept more soundly than you have in quite some time; you just wish you didn’t have to masturbate to thoughts of your coworker to do it.
“I’m glad.” The softness in Jungkook’s voice makes you smile despite yourself. “If you’re up for it, there’s a 5:30 class we could try and make.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Want to change out here and then walk over? Those tiny locker rooms get a little crazy right after work.”
You nod as you set your purse down on your desk. “That sounds perfect.”
Jungkook is still smiling as he ruffles a hand through his hair, his other hand gripping the strap of his backpack. “Okay, cool. Then I guess I’ll see you in the team meeting in a bit.” He takes a few steps backwards, still facing your desk, then finally pivots on his heel and heads down the hallway.
It only takes an instant for you to realize you do not want to be alone with your thoughts. The paranoia you’ve felt before that Yoongi will walk in the doors any second returns in full-force, worse than it’s ever been. The team meeting ends up being a blessing in disguise, and you get to the conference room nearly twenty minutes early, grateful for a reason to get away from your desk.
Unfortunately, it’s an exhausting discussion on scheduling for the upcoming quarter. When you finally wrap up after running almost fifteen minutes over, you head immediately for the break room, in desperate need of another cup of coffee.
The room is empty when you step inside, and you enjoy the peace and quiet as you set to fixing a mug the way you like it: two cream, two sugar— your hand hovers over the packets for a moment, then you shrug and grab a third sugar and dump it in. You deserve this.
Absorbed in your routine, you nearly knock the entire cup over at the sudden sound of the ice machine kicking on. When you glance up at the source, your stomach drops, because of course: it’s Yoongi, adding more ice to his Americano with that default sour expression on his face. The universe seems to have no mercy for you lately.
“Is there a reason you always sneak up on people?” You snap at him. At this point, just his presence is enough to frustrate you.
He quirks an eyebrow, removing his cup from the dispenser and shaking it a little to distribute the ice. “Is there a reason you put so much crap in your coffee?”
You blink, taken aback by the fact that he must have been watching you, and watching closely to notice such specific details. As much as you’d like to be the bigger person and say nothing, the retort comes to you before you can think to stop it.
“I’m sorry, is there something you’d rather I put in my mouth instead?”
Yoongi has clearly chosen the wrong moment to take a swig of his drink, because he immediately chokes on it at your words. It looks like it’s taking all his effort to not spit it out on the floor, and his eyes are as wide as you’ve ever seen them, like he can’t believe what you just said. You honestly can’t either.
It feels surprisingly good. If he’s going to ruin your life, you might as well get a chance to return the favor. You pick up your mug and leave the break room with a polite smile, feeling more satisfied than you have in weeks.
As you take a seat at your desk and return to your to-do list, that thought stays with you, resurfacing again each time you pause to sip from your mug.
It’s true: you’re well overdue to turn the tables. It might even help get some of this excess energy out, you reason. While you consider the various outlets you have at your disposal, your eyes fall to your purse, where your change of workout clothes for tonight’s boxing class is tucked away.
All at once, the plan clicks together in your mind.
At 5:00 on the dot, you shut your laptop and grab your purse, making a beeline for the restroom. You lock yourself into one of the larger stalls and slip out of your work clothes.
Your fingers are trembling slightly with anticipatory nerves as you fumble at the buttons of your blouse; you do your best to ignore the little voice in your head questioning whether or not this is a good idea.
You shimmy out of your skirt and slide on your leggings, grateful you managed to grab a matching workout set today instead of merely digging out something clean. It’s actually your favorite set: a cute strappy top with high-waisted leggings that have just enough compression to make your ass look astounding, in a sunset orange and pink gradient that perfectly compliments your skin tone.
Once you’ve pulled your heels off and changed into sneakers, you slip out of the stall to examine yourself in the mirror. You wiggle your hips a little, satisfied with the way your ass jiggles in response.
This will do, you think to yourself.
Jungkook is waiting in front of your desk when you return, and it’s really quite funny to see him dressed for class within the four walls of your office building. The duality of him has occurred to you before—that someone who is accurately described as Baby Star Candy also likes to beat the shit out of things as exercise, for instance. But it’s on full display now as you take in his black muscle tee and gray sweatpants. You’d almost believe he was a different person entirely if he didn’t have the same shy grin plastered on his face.
“I just double-checked, looks like everyone else has left for the day,” he starts, and you’re not surprised. Your coworkers usually arrive and leave early, with spouses and kids at home to attend to. His smile falters a little as he continues. “Well, except Suga. I wasn’t sure how you wanted to handle that.”
You set your purse on your desk and fish the office keys out. “I’ve got it. Be right back.”
When you approach the Genius Lab door, you decide to at least do him the decency of knocking, and you even ring his stupid doorbell in hopes that it might be loud enough to hear even with headphones on. Then you punch the code in and turn the handle, your heartbeat slamming hard in your chest.
Yoongi appears to have been doing actual work, thankfully, and is sliding off his headphones when you push the door open.
“Time to wrap it up,” you say, willing your voice to stay steady. “I have to leave early today.”
He spins his chair towards you, an expression on his face like he might be ready to argue, but that look of annoyance quickly vanishes as he appears to process your outfit. It may have been the alcohol convincing you on Friday night, but now you’re certain his eyes trail up and down your body, because he takes his fucking time with it. He breathes a soft exhale, and you swear you even see his jaw go slack.
“Come on, Yoongi.” You push again, crossing towards him and trying to ignore the way every cell in your body is vibrating. He slides his chair back from the desk, granting you just enough space to seize your opportunity.
You slip a finger through the ring of your office keys and twirl them in a circle, once, twice, then do your best to make the flick of your wrist subtle enough that he doesn’t notice. The fact that he can’t tear his eyes away from your figure certainly helps.
You’ve never been particularly sporty, so it feels like winning the fucking Olympics when the keys land squarely under his desk with a jangle, exactly as you’d hoped.
“Oops.”
It’s funny, you think to yourself, because he could absolutely prevent what’s about to happen by sheer virtue of not being an asshole. If you’d accidentally chucked your keys under Jungkook’s desk, he’d be on his knees in a millisecond to retrieve them for you.
But you know that Min Yoongi is lazy and selfish— not to mention, apparently very distracted at the moment. You can tell because he doesn’t do anything except avert his gaze to look stupidly at your keys on the floor, like he’s on a five second delay from reality.
“Don’t worry,” you allow yourself to outright purr. “I’ve got it.” And then you crawl under his desk and let him enjoy the show.
Yoongi grunts softly, low in his throat, sounding somewhere between aroused and frustrated. When your back arches, you do your best to believe that it’s on purpose to further torment him, and not an instinctual response to the noise.
Reaching out on your hands and knees, you grab the keyring and slide it towards you, nice and slow. The rush of power is so good that you can’t control yourself, and you wiggle your hips slightly, the same way you did in front of the mirror earlier.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and you know you’re playing a dangerous game.
Closing your hand tightly around the key, you scoot backwards enough to clear the desk, then right yourself again.
“Time to go,” you say brightly, trying to keep your composure.
The mix of emotions on Yoongi’s face is fascinating. You can see lust bordering on desperation, that much is obvious, but even still his lips are just barely turning up at the corners, like you’ve really surprised— or possibly impressed him. That glint in his eyes is stronger than you’ve ever seen it.
He clears his throat before he speaks. “Well. Now I need a minute.”
You’re about to get annoyed that he’s fucking with you when your eyes drift far enough down to notice the hand he has pressed into his crotch.
Oh. Oh. Wow, you severely underestimated the power of your ass in tight leggings, you realize.
You wonder if he can still read you as easily as ever, or if his current situation distracts him enough to miss the heat that creeps up your neck.
“Fine,” you say, and it comes out a little less confidently than you would have liked.
There’s a moment where you hesitate, and the tension in the room feels like a rubber band stretched to its absolute limit, liable to snap at any second. If you offered to… help him right now, would he say yes? You genuinely don’t know.
You can’t entertain that thought for a second longer. That way lies trouble. With a hard swallow, you force yourself to march out of the lab, letting the door slam shut behind you. Jungkook peeks his head around the corner of the hallway as you return.
“How’d it go?”
“He’s coming,” you say without thinking, and it takes every fiber of your being to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head with frustration. These unintentional double entendres are seriously getting to be too much.
“Cool, cool.” Jungkook glances at his watch. “We’re making good time anyway.” He pauses for a moment, rocking back on his heels and pursing his lips into a pout. “Did it help that I gave you the door code?”
Talk about a loaded question. You laugh a little before you can stop yourself. Help, destroy your life— who’s to say, really?
“I think so” feels like the easiest response that isn’t an outright lie. “Thanks for that,” you quickly add.
He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. “Anytime. I hope he’s not making your life too hard.”
Right on cue, you hear the sound of Yoongi exiting his lab from down the hallway. You’re thankful that you don’t have to scramble to try and find a coherent response to that comment, and you choose instead to head for the front doors. Jungkook and Yoongi file out first and you set the alarm, then slip out after them, pulling the door firmly closed and locking it.
You turn back to see Jungkook pressing the elevator button and Yoongi entirely transfixed in something on his phone. He’s faced enough towards you that you glance down and confirm his problem has been resolved. You can’t stop yourself from wondering by what means.
Fucking hell, you really are too far gone.
When the elevator dings, you step in, Jungkook following behind after you. Yoongi makes no move to get on, continuing to tap away at his phone. Fine by you, you think as the doors begin to close. You’re more than happy to not have to suffer through an elevator ride with him.
It’s only when Jungkook sticks his arm between the doors to keep them from closing that you remember you’re sharing this elevator with the most wholesome man alive. Damn him.
“Suga?” He says, and Yoongi’s head snaps up. “Are you coming?”
Against your better judgment, you lock eyes with Yoongi for a split second, and there’s clearly a shared emotion happening. But neither of you have any way to explain it to Jungkook that wouldn’t make you both sound insane, which you might be. So suffer you must.
“Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi mumbles as he steps into the elevator next to you, Jungkook on your other side. Fucking perfect.
There’s several inches between you, but it feels like nothing at all, and the images that flash through your head put last night’s vibrator session to shame. It would be so easy, if Jungkook weren’t here, for Yoongi to reach out and touch you. And even if he didn’t, it would be just as easy for you to press the emergency stop button, to torment and tease him until he slammed you up against the wall, grabbed you by the hair, and gave you exactly what you—
The ding of the elevator reaching the ground floor snaps you out of your fantasy. You can feel how stiff your nipples are through the thin fabric of your workout top, and you can only pray neither of them are observant enough to notice.
When the elevator doors slide open, you can’t exit fast enough, moving so quickly that Jungkook nearly has to jog to keep up as he calls goodnight to Yoongi over his shoulder.
So much for getting excess energy out, you think. At least you’ll have plenty to burn off in class.
~*~
With preparations for the upcoming quarter in full swing, it feels like your workload triples overnight. The rest of the week is a mess of scheduling, communications distributions, and trying to make sure you don’t screw up any of the projects your boss has delegated to you.
If nothing else, it’s a good opportunity for you to cool the fuck off. It feels like the only time your brain isn’t overwhelmed with thoughts of Yoongi is when you’re neck-deep in work tasks.
There’s enough on your plate that you end up working late on Wednesday and Thursday just to get your most pressing deliverables finished. Yoongi keeps to his typical exit schedule both nights, but come Friday evening, when you grab your phone while waiting for a particularly large report to run, you realize with surprise that it’s already 6:30. You never saw him leave.
In no rush to repeat the events of last Friday—how was it only a week ago?—you decide it’s safer to shoot him a text. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you figure out the best way to phrase it.
I’m working late if you need to do the same.
You hit send, not wanting to overthink it any longer, and you don’t even have time to put your phone down before his response comes in: a single thumbs-up emoji. You don’t know what you expected.
There’s a hum in your chest that’s difficult to ignore as you get back to your work, and you can feel your heart beat a little faster whenever your mind returns to the realization that you’re once again alone in the office with Yoongi. And it’s only getting later and later. You hope you’ll make it through the night intact.
When you’ve finally finished putting together all the presentation decks for Monday’s slated pitches, you collapse back in your chair, rubbing your eyes exhaustedly. You balk at the time on your screen: it’s nearly 10 PM, and you still haven’t heard or seen any trace of Yoongi.
You’re not about to do this again, you think to yourself as you type out another text.
Ready to go?
While you wait for a response, you tap through your other messages. You’ve left Jimin on read for a couple of days now, and your heart sinks as you scroll back through the chain. You make a mental promise that you’ll catch him up on everything this weekend, even if it means you may never hear the end of the TV show jokes. Besides, you’re in desperate need of best friend advice.
You scroll through social media for a few more minutes, then give a frustrated sigh. Still no response from Yoongi. You tap his contact name and hit the button to call him. When you bring the phone to your ear, it immediately goes to voicemail.
Well, fuck.
Pressing the button to end the call, you set your phone down on your desk, and the pit of dread in your stomach grows with each passing second. You wish this all didn’t have to be so fucking complicated. Seeing no other option, you slowly get to your feet and head for the Genius Lab.
You knock as loudly as you can, giving the doorbell a few jabs for good measure as well. As you punch the numbers in and the handle gives, it only occurs to you now: it’s been a full week, and yet, he hasn’t changed the code of his lock.
When you push the door open, you give it a second before you cross the threshold.
“I’m coming in,” you announce as loudly as you can. “Put your dick away.” You do your best to make the comment sound flippant, in an attempt to disguise how fast your pulse is racing.
Yoongi doesn’t respond, or even so much as turn to look at you, seemingly entirely absorbed in the open track on his screen. At least he’s working, but still: you don’t appreciate being ignored.
Setting your jaw, you cross the room until you reach his desk, then turn around to put your foot on his chair and give it a small shove backwards. He’s not expecting it, so you’re able to move him back enough to create a gap where you can wedge yourself between him and his computer, forcing him to acknowledge your presence.
“I tried calling, but you didn’t answer,” you offer as an explanation when he looks up at you, clearly annoyed. “It’s time to go to sleep.”
Yoongi fishes his phone out of his pocket, and his brow furrows a little when the screen doesn’t wake. Slipping it back wordlessly, he crosses his arms, slouching slightly in his chair.
“Is that really what you want?” He finally asks.
“To sleep?” You scoff. “Desperately.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when I had it out last time. I believe you confirmed you enjoyed it, actually.”
Oh. That.
Yoongi rolls his chair closer to you and you reflexively move to take a step backwards, but your ass bumps into the edge of his desk. Nowhere else to go, you perch unsurely on it.
You’re tired. Not just physically, but mentally. Tired of playing these games and running the same circles in your brain over and over. Tired of trying to deny the extremely obvious truth. So you don’t.
“And what if I did, Yoongi?”
He seems pleased by your answer. “Well, if I’m honest, I think you came in here hoping it would happen again. Because you know what you want.” He uncrosses his arms, letting his elbows rest on the supports of his desk chair and his wrists dangle freely, legs spreading a little wider as if to really drive the point home.
You swallow hard, unable to hide the effect his current pose has on you. But you refuse to let him have all the power. You know now that this, whatever it is, goes both ways.
“I think you didn’t change the code on your door because you want it, too.”
He outright laughs, apparently surprised at your candor. “Oh, I’m not ashamed to admit what I want. In fact, I’ll tell you right now. It would be great to get it out of my system, actually. It’s been a real challenge focusing.”
Yoongi continues on before you can stop him. And you don’t want to stop him.
“Let’s see.” His eyes trace lazily down your figure in a way that makes you feel totally exposed, despite the fact that you’re still fully dressed. “I want to bend you over my desk right where you are.”
You shiver at the words, and at the way his deep voice is soaked with lust. His eyes start to glaze over as he continues.
“I want to pull your dress up and get a good look at that ass you were tempting me with. Shit, it was like you wanted me to take you right there on the floor.”
You have the edge of his desk in an absolute death grip now, and you can barely remember how to breathe. There’s a throbbing ache radiating between your legs, and you shift your hips a little in desperate search of relief.
“Yeah, you like that?” Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours, and though you’re sure the answer is painted all over your face, you nod.
“Good. Because I’m not done. I want to finger that tight little pussy and spank you until you bruise.” You tear your eyes away from him as the shock of his words rips through you, and you inhale a shaky gasp. But he just keeps going. “I want to make you beg to take my cock. And then I want to fuck you like the slut you so clearly are. I want to make you come so hard that your legs shake, so hard that you have no choice but to scream my name as I wreck you.”
The room is spinning around you now, and you’re fully grinding your hips down against his desk. Your pussy is soaked, gushing with arousal just from the filthy things he’s saying. Your mind can barely process that this is really happening.
When you lift your gaze to meet his again, Yoongi is smirking at you, obviously satisfied with the way he’s made you come undone. “But first—” he pauses for a second, as if debating whether or not to say it. “I want you to spread your legs for me. Show me what’s under that dress.”
You’re so far gone now, you think you’d do anything he asked. The skirt of your black sheath dress slides up your thighs as you drop your legs open, and your face heats up in a mixture of shame and insane, overwhelming desire.
“Wow, look who’s actually capable of taking direction,” Yoongi quips, but then his jaw drops as your knees spread as wide as they can go, and you can see his tongue working against his cheek.
You recall a fraction of a second later that you wore a light pink pair of panties today. Light enough that you’re sure he has a front-row view of how entirely drenched you are, and it must be obscene. You’ve never been this turned on in your life. And he hasn’t even touched you.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groans, and when you see his hand drift down to palm himself, you realize his dick is fully erect, straining hard against the fabric of his black joggers.
“Your turn,” Yoongi grunts, hips canting up into his touch. His eyes are heavy-lidded with lust as he watches you carefully. “Tell me what you want.”
Your heart is pounding hard in your chest. His pupils are blown dark and wide, and you’re sure you don’t look much better. There isn’t a single inch of you that doesn’t want him. And you could have him right now.
But your stomach turns at the thought of what would happen after, and all the very many ways this could go horribly wrong. You can’t. You shouldn’t. It would be a very bad idea. With every last shred of willpower you can muster, you press your knees together again and lie through your teeth.
“I want to go home and go to sleep, Yoongi.”
Your legs shake a little as you slide off his desk and walk out of the room before you can take it back. When the door closes behind you, you have to slump against it and breathe hard for a moment until you collect yourself enough to make it back to your desk.
Yoongi emerges from his lab a few minutes after you. Just as he has dozens of times before, he strides past your desk and out the front doors wordlessly, the expression on his face impossible to decipher.
It’s almost convincing enough to make you believe that nothing has changed.
ight, i gotta say i'm late but better late than never is a wise saying as ever.
the details on yoongi's outfits and i gotta actually say lmao, these two are definitely assholes to eachother. roasting the shit but failing to the level where their hormones take over and yet again are torn ( okok i won't start about that i was actually 'bout to lash out at ya for this ending but again the last chapter is still there for the rescue and i CANT WAIT HELLO) as much as i want them to fuck already, i still can't get over how much of a tease are they and keep this going. the way when that whispering thing right at her ear came, i know the oc is the strongest soldier because i definitely am not : the double meanings of a helping hand and the way they both got eachother dumbfounded for meantime got me rollin' like the effect of LDOMLT yoongi is immaculate on me . the offer for his d was open...OC WHY'D YOU-?! 😀❓
yuns note : i'm not going to mention how badly i wanna bag baby star candy because i really want and love a guy who looks like could wack yo arse but actually is soft as a cotton candy, just how gentle and considerate he is makes me teary eyed like ill leave those two dorks alone lemme kiss baby star candy already pls
Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: fluff; angst; smut
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, low self-esteem, mentions of misogyny, awkwardness.
Authors Note: I hope you’re all still enjoying! Things are still dragging out …
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Yoongi’s not here. It’s the first thought that goes through your mind when you walk into the pub.
Your eyes flick around the room as if in search for him as you stride towards the bar. Priya’s there, Lewis is cleaning some tables, there’s a few customers sat in various seats. But there’s no Yoongi.
Priya has a wide smile on her face when you finally get to the seat at the bar opposite to where she’s stood. It would be an unnerving sight if it wasn’t Priya. Still, your hackles raise.
“What can I get you?”
You’re not used to having to say your order aloud, are used to a Thatchers being placed silently in front of you. But you push those thoughts from your mind as you say your order with a small smile.
“Not seen you in a while,” Priya says as she starts to pour your pint.
“It’s been just over a week,” you frown, no more or less than the amount of time you’ve left between previous visits.
at this point, i feel frustrated at oc. without her knowing the other sides shes just assuming, even if she's aware that the guy who actually got bored and texted her because of that isn't really the worth it or the guy for her when he's only using her and her assumptions are wrong . even though i can understand fear and her way of thinking, id like to say she shouldn't really be this hard on herself and just let it go when she too can understand all.
i just love how priya is portraying how we all feel and want to tell oc, i hope everything goes well....
It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.
Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.
Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…
pairing; kim seokjin x f reader
au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov
words; 12,460
warnings for this chapter (!) Jungkook could flirt with a wall, jealous Seokjin x2, subtle touches, kisses, Oc has Horny Thoughts, way too many thoughts of straddling him – is it hormones or just Seokjin?, a 12-week prenatal appointment, minor weight mentions e.g. hips expanding, boobs getting bigger, Yoonjin interactions, drunk Seokjin, Yoongi the taxi driver
⟶ ao3 link
*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’
note; I was reading a book last month where the ML called the FL angel, and I remembered how top tier that pet name is, so I’m going to attempt to implement it into this story, wish me luck! Also, you’ll have to ignore that the real Soobin’s bday is in December, because I really needed it to be pushed forward for the plot lol.
I hope you enjoy the start of season 2! These chapters are probably going to be a little longer than last season’s, so I might not be able to update every week. I’m hoping for fortnightly, but please check my schedule regularly for up-to-date info. Thank youu <3
this was so, so interesting to read, seokjin teasing mc with his “ angel 😇 ” and all the horny thoughts of oc ( all the hormones got her wildin' , but it's not totally them, you understand— )
the way i loved the interaction with jungkook and hobi, just that much i loved the interaction of joon with Seokjin. i knew they're gonna merge well, so they did! all the way it just felt so refreshing to read. of course, i just hope everything goes well and the fact that they haven't shared the news with their respective families.. i hope they get comfortable enough to do it one day. all the emotions which have been described through this part made me realise once again how beautiful if your writing style. all the kisses and the romantic parts being snatched away from the whiny seokjin and mc made me giggle- they're so cute. i truly wish they get just as much comfy with eachother to share everything with eachother, too. seokjin is SO hilarious while he's drunk, either the way he's just too adorable. my cheeks hurt from smiling so hard when mc got to meet kook and hobi.
ALSO LMAO THIS IS HOW I IMAGINE SOOBIN FANBOYIN OVER SEOKJIN HAHAH
overall, this was amazing to read. i can truly, truly understand how yoongi feels. it's all about..the love he has for her, i just hope he's able to move on because he deserves someone just as amazing as he is. i've been there as where yoongi is, i truly feel how he feels. i just hope everything goes well for him too <\3
overall this was so amazingly written. take care!!
the coverups are insane, ngl. the tattoo artist is crazy skilled and they look so amazing on jk, and i'm gawking like we got to see his whole tat arm..when previously in around 2019 we zoomed in to pixels to get a glimpse — the progression LORD
titsay
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
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