Myg F - Tumblr Posts
beg | myg
➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader
➥ word count | 1.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, mild degradation, mild praise kink, established relationship, rough oral (m receiving), throatfucking, teasing, pet names, throat bulge, studio sex, wet & messy, reader wears a necklace with yoongi's initial
➥ summary | requested from this - "Oh no, not until you beg." & "Relax your throat." With Min Yoongi :3
➥ notes | for anon~ hope you enjoy 🧡 un-edited, I’ll come back to fix things when it’s not 2 AM lol
masterlist | ask box
The low hum of the A/C unit overhead and the whir of the computer fan kicking on is almost enough to drown out the wet gags and gargled breathing but only just.
Not that it really matters - the hours had long since crept past midnight, and Yoongi was meticulous when it came to the design of his studio.
Key pad, double doored, soundproofed to hell and back; the whole shebang.
Millions of won poured into the construction of the four walls that made up his altar, his church. Furthermore, not only did others give a wide berth when he's on-site at HYBE, but even fewer have the special privilege of being granted access to his private sanctum.
You're one of the lucky ones.
Mind, it took several (long) months of veiled suggestions and cajoling to get you to where you are now, but it was worth it in the end.
Watching a man so thoroughly married to his work set aside his convictions to give attention to your relationship doesn't sit right with you. Plus, it wasn’t sustainable in the long run - even though you appreciate the effort.
No, this arrangement is much better - the best of both worlds.
Not only do you get to spend time with him, he gets to share what he loves. A win-win for everyone involved, but especially for you when Yoongi is horny and agitated.
“Mm, come on, baby,” Yoongi husks, wicking away the mascara clinging to the swell of your cheek with a rough thumb, “I know you can take me all the way. Now, stop playing, and relax your throat.”
Burning eyes fluttering open, you take in the blurry upside-down view that greets you through clumpy lashes; a sea of dark wood, the pale stretch of his legs, the pool of black basketball shorts puddled around his ankles.
Propped up as you are, head dangling over the thin leather armrest of the couch, you can't get a good angle without giving yourself a crick. Little spasms are already shooting through your neck, and down in between your shoulders because of the lack of proper support.
Something you'll definitely be paying for later.
But you're not about to stop Yoongi.
Not when he has you laid out on your back with his cock in your mouth, both of you working towards stuffing it down your throat. Even if your lips are fucked raw and swollen, your chin slick with spit and pre-cum.
Your tongue stretches out to flick over the fat head of his cock when he slides free with a sticky pop. “Fuck yeah, just like that.”
You hum low in the back of your throat, threads of arousal shivering down your spine as your belly swoops at the low rumble of his voice, the delicate trace of his fingers along the sides of your neck.
He grunts when you dig the tip of your tongue into his weeping slit, lapping and swirling around the spongy crown.
“Heh, you’re such a filthy bitch for me, aren’t you,” Yoongi says, his voice breathless and cracking around the edges. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and swallow my dick?”
Inhaling deep, you let your breath shudder from you on a shaky moan that teases the insides of his thighs, the base of his cock, “Yes, please. Want it, Yoongs.”
Yoongi hums, satisfied.
“Watch those teeth,” is the only warning you get.
Then he's cradling your jaw with his thumbs and nudging his hips forward to grind against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you drop your mouth open into a relaxed circle for Yoongi to fuck into.
The initial slide is smooth, aided by the strings of spit and pre-cum clinging to the lower half of your face. Though trouble begins the deeper Yoongi presses towards the back of your throat.
Your muscles tense as your mouth spreads wider and wider to accommodate his girth. An ache settles deep in your temples, little shocks of discomfort shooting down through the hinges of your jaw.
Tears leak past your clenched eyes, the renewed burn of mascara stinging your ducts as your sinuses clog. You whine - a raspy, muffled sound as your tongue wriggles along the underside of his shaft.
He hushes you, and anchors a hand on your shoulder as the other reaches down to twine with your fingers digging into his thigh. “Doing so good for me,” Yoongi said, “fucking perfect, baby.”
Your pussy clenches, your legs tensing against the leather. Sweat gathers behind your knees, your hips shivering with the need to twist, shift, and find a modicum of friction that’ll relieve the ache building behind your navel.
“Yeah, come on, that’s it. Just a little - shit - hah, that - oh fuck!”
His hips jerk forward as you hollow your cheeks to the best of your ability, hissing as teeth scrape along the sides of his shaft as he bullies his way deeper.
And then, with a pop richoetting down your spine, the head of his cock passes the back of your throat.
“Oh, baby,” Yoongi curses, his frame wracked with tremors.
His thighs shudder against your ears, his hips tense with anticipation as he holds himself still. Your throat rebels, rippling like a vice around his shaft, milking him for all he’s worth.
“Feel’s so - feels so good. You take me so well, knew you could. You always do.”
Gagging, your head goes light and floaty at the sudden lack of oxygen, tiny cavities peppering your vision.
Then you focus on breathing through your nose.
In - one, two, three. Out - one, two, three.
Over and over again until the mounting animal panic subsides, and you're left with tingling limbs and a throbbing cunt.
Yoongi groans, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
Thumbs bracketing the sides of your neck stroke over the visible bulge of his shaft straining against the chain of your necklace, the delicate ‘Y’ charm branding your skin.
It'll leave a welt everyone can see. A little mark to stake his claim. To remember him by when you're separated.
The thought gets you hotter than you care to admit.
“Can see myself in your throat, baby.”
At the praise, liquid fire pulses through your veins, and warmth blooms in your belly. Settling between your hips until your clit twitches.
Slick soaks through the seat of your panties, and you feel all at once so full, and so, so empty.
The scent of his skin - clean and clear. The musk of his cologne - earthy and masculine. The salt of him heavy on your tongue, his cock throbbing in time with his thundering heartbeat as you swallow around him reflexively.
It's enough to send you reeling with the desperation, the desire to feel him cum down your throat, to taste his pleasure.
Half feral, you try bobbing your head, fingers hooking around Yoongi’s hips to drag him into the cradle of your face deeper, faster, harder.
Only to be met with resistance as he refuses to move, to give in to the frantic movements.
Standing stock still, he lets you tug and whine and writhe until your efforts fizzle to nothing.
And only then does he respond, bending over your body to slide a hand between your thighs.
You jerk, hiccup at the feeling of his fingers inching past the soaked hem of your panties. Brushing over the silken folds of your cunt, teasing, testing the slick arousal with his knuckles.
“Oh no, baby,” Yoongi says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through his chest into yours, “You gotta beg me first.”