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winters-doll · 1 month ago

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❝𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸?❞

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Husband!Nanami x Wife!Reader

𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥

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Swirling the sweet wine in hand, you couldn’t help but compliment the chef’s recommendation. “The chef was right honey, the wine is sweet but really strong.” You hum in delight, bringing the wine glass to your plump lips. Kento, as protective as you as usual smiles softly seeing you enjoy yourself.

“Just a glass for tonight sweetheart, I’ll purchase the bottle for us to bring home.” You greedily gulp it down, a slight tingle glides down your throat. “Thank you hubby, you take such good care of me.” You place your delicate hand on your chest, touched at his kindness even after all these years. “I have the privilege to take care of you, I’m going to do it right.” He smiles across from you reaching his palm out to caress yours.

You place your palm in his, enjoying the sensation of his thumbs rubbing against your skin. “I can’t wait to try their pasta, everyone’s been obsessed with this place for months! I’m glad we were able to make a reservation for tonight!” You wiggle in your seat, excited to try the most popular item on the menu.

A waiter approaches your table with simmering hot food on it. You couldn’t help but give tiny claps at seeing the meal. Just from the looks and smell alone you can tell why this was so popular. “Here you are sir, the roasted potatoes and beef wellington and the cajun pasta for the lady.” The prim and proper waiter places the food in front of you. You could almost immediately dive in, but remembering your manners you just smile politely at the man. “I’ll purchase two bottles of this wine from the chef’s recommendation, my wife has enjoyed it immensely.” You could feel the blush span across your neck and face from his actions.

“Of course sir, please, enjoy your dinner.” The waiter saunters off and you look at the pasta in front of you and your husband, plan in motion. There’s a TikTok challenge you have been dying to try on your husband and this seems like the perfect opportunity to try, you just hope you can pull it off and not laugh prematurely like you usually do.

Unwrapping the silverware from its cloth you swirl the fork into the creamy pasta. “I’m so excited~” You sing into your first bite knowing Kento would be anticipating a reaction out of you, to know if he should get another order for lunch tmw or make this restaurant another regular to surprise you with.

Chewing softly you taste the warm creaminess of the pasta sauce, its rich flavor flooding your tastebuds with glee. But you have to play the part perfectly so steeling your features you mutter, “The fuck?”

Brows furrowed, you chew the pasta as if it’s the worst thing to even call edible. “What’s wrong honey? Are there remnants of a shell?” You hear your husband concerned voice from across from you but you keep your head down and chew slowly.

“The fuck is this?”

You hear a distant grunt from across from you and feel your heart start to race in your chest. “I’ll call the waiter over immediately” Kento starts to rise from his seat before you can say, “Don’t do that the fuck?”

You look up and nearly lose it at seeing your husband look so concerned. “Why wouldn’t I do that, sweetheart, surely something is wrong.”

Taking another bite you mutter, “Sit down, nothings wrong the fuck?” Kento sharp eyes just stare at yours for a moment before announcing, “I’m calling the chef at once.”

Your eyes widen in actual shock seeing him tuck in his chair and walk towards the kitchen. “Why? The fuck?” The man simply rushes over briskly to the kitchen and you see the panic looks on the waiters faces and can only fear what he’s telling them.

You cross your legs hoping that’ll calm your nerves down seeing your husband come back with the head chef taking a seat before declaring, “You have poisoned my wife’s food. She’s having cognitive dissonance that doesn’t happen when drinking light wine. I will have this place shut down from your insolence.” You see the cold glare your husband gives the chef and you cling to your fork, leg bouncing underneath the table. “There must be some misunderstanding sir, I perform to my highest ability to make sure no one gets hurt in my cooking. I prep my fish every morning at five am to make sure I give my highest performance.” The chef brows furrow and looks at you.

“Obviously your best isn’t good enough, is it chef?” Kento cold line sends chills down your spine and you know this has gone too far but you couldn’t help but deliver the final blow . “The fuck is wrong with you man? You’re trying to kill me??” You sass at the chef and he shakes his head terrified. “O-of course not madam!” He denys and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch out of amusement and nervousness.

Kento glares at you from across the table before demanding, “I would like to speak with my wife. Alone.” The chef didn’t need to be told twice before scurrying away. “What was that?” His deep voice questioned you.

“What was what? The fuck.”

He crosses his hands in front of him staring at you for a moment.

Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck, you fucked up.

You really fucked up.

“You want to come clean or do I have to say it?” He narrows his eyes at you.

You’re left in a staring contest, seeing who will break first but the icy glare of your husband is all knowing. You try your best to hold onto your poker face but honestly, you never had one.

Puffing air out of your cheeks you twiddle with the pasta on your plate. “It was a prank…” You mumble sheepishly looking up at him.

“What social media app?”

You sigh, resigning your fate with a quiet, “Tiktok…” You couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty but Kento saw the mirth in your eyes and the apples of your cheeks rising.

That’s how you find yourself over your husband’s lap in the manger office, panties in his coat pocket. You cried as a crisp hand falls sharply on your doughy ass. “I-I’m sorry Ken!” You grip on his ankle, hoping for some sort of resistance. “Don’t apologize to me you spoiled brat, apologize to the man whose career almost got tarnished from you!” He points out delivering a punishing spank. “From you being insensitive and immature.” His callous hand lands sharply on the underside of your bottom. Oh right.

You look up at the chef who arms are crossed in front of his chest. “Im so sorry chef!” You whimper.

Smack!

“For?” Kento growls at you.

“For being a brat! I almost got you fired!”

The chef merely grunts, pissed at this entire situation. “I have a girl at home who has the same behavior as yours. I would discipline her like this myself.” He doesn’t even talk to you, only to your husband.

“Yes, well my wife is much better behaved then this but it does, indeed come about like now.” He rains a dozen of slaps on your rear, all more painful than the last. You wail in agony but don’t move knowing it would make it worse. But you had to agree

This was so worth it.

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A/N: This shouldn’t have been so funny lmao. Reader has no chill that’s why her ass got tore up

#@winters doll #jjk x you #black reader #nanamixreader #nanami smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami jjk #nanami x y/n #nanami x oc #nanamigirls #bratreader #brat things

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aquagustd · 3 years ago

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secret or sin - MYG

↣ Yoongi doesn’t like brats, not one bit, and he knows exactly what to do to fix it. But first he has something to give you; the final seal of his love.

✩ part of need to know, a sugar daddy yoongi series ✩

༄moodboard

pairing — sugar daddy!yoongi x reader

genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, pwp

word count — 6K

warnings/tags — CEO!yoongi, dom!yoongi, sub!bratreader, established relationship, strong language, age gap, pet name, possessive yoongs, switching POVs, off camera discussion of kinks & limits, BDSM themes, explicit smut — masturbation (f), overstimulation, bondage, (impact play) SPANKING, blindfolds, hand kink, daddy kink, breast kink, sadism, light masochism, collaring, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, hair pulling, biting/scratching, toy usage, orgasm control, breath play, choking, oral (m), throat fucking, cum eating, fingering, clit pinching, spit kink, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, degradation (wow)

a/n — look at those arms 😩 he can chokeslam me any day also, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while with them, so here it is finally! This can be read as a stand-alone but it’s better if you start from the beginning bc wyd if you haven’t read sugar daddy yoon yet?? thank u

∞

To him, it must seem like you’re sulking. And you couldn’t care less, because you are, in fact, sulking.

He spent the entire afternoon holed up in his office and banished you to the guest room where he set a mini study for you to get busy with your own work. Because he can’t have you around him while he’s working, he said. You couldn’t get any work done, distracted by the thought that he’s only a door away. Usually, you would manage, but you guess it’s because you have so much time to fill in those applications, you’re stalling. Procrastinating, rather.

Procrastinating by staring at the back of your boyfriend’s head, while he sits hunched over his desk, typing away, flipping through documents. It also doesn’t help that he looks incredibly sexy in that beige sweater, strong arms flexing with each movement.

Despite knowing that he’s going to lecture you for shirking, you close the short space between you and pat his shoulders with both hands, signalling that he should fix his posture. He jolts upright, reaching over his chest to pat the back of your hand.

“I thought you were busy,” he whispers, voice even more gruff with lack of use.

You squeeze between the edge of the desk and his legs, planting yourself on his lap. Through his protests, his hands still fly to your thighs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your leggings.

“Yeah but, I missed you.”

His lips flatten into a thin line, raising his brows before he scratches his forehead, glancing between you and his computer screen with heavy eyes.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh deeply, hopping off his lap then spinning around to kiss the top of his head, face squished between your palms, “I’ll leave you alone. Do you have a pair of scissors?”

“Scissors?” He reaches down for one of the drawers, which is stocked with matte black stationery, matching the rest he has displayed across his office. His lips form a pout before he makes a noise of surprise, tilting his head slightly to look behind him. “Check in the last drawer there.”

Following his line of sight, you crouch down and rummage through the neatly packed drawer “thanks.”

He resumes his typing, while you’re lifting each container to find something else. You were wondering where it went after that night.

The silver glints in the low lighting when you lift it up slowly. A mischievous grin playing on your lips. He wouldn’t mind if you were to steal this for a while, right? Since he’s busy and you don’t want to disturb him, you’d have to find other ways to satisfy your needs, right? Ways that wouldn’t upset him. Too much.

“Did you find it?”

You shove the vibrator into your jacket pocket and pull out the scissors, kicking the drawer shut behind you, “yep.”

Walking around his desk slyly, anticipation building in your core, you fail to notice the feline eyes boring into you as you disappear out the door.

You think you’re clever. He laughs to himself, setting both his elbows on the desk before rubbing his eyes. Time for a little break.

Yoongi knows what you took, he could see from the corner of his eye and even if he didn’t, your body language told him all he needs to know. As if you haven’t been together for almost a year now. He knows exactly what to look for when it comes to you. Especially in a situation like this, when you feel neglected. Yearning for his attention.

He knows he’s been avoiding you. Although he can’t really avoid you since he basically asked you to live with him, until Taehyung gets his shit together. But he wouldn’t mind if you lived with him forever.

That’s where the issue lies.

With a groan, he rises from the chair and closes the blinds before switching on his desk lamp. The black box sits untouched in one of the cabinets high up. His fingers skim over the plain leather, heavy in his hands as he takes it out to inspect the details, again. He wants it, desperately.

To officially have you as his. For you to devote yourself to him. And him to you.

But he’s unsure about your reaction.

It’s silly, he knows, he’s been weak, vulnerable, tattered in your presence before and you accepted him with open arms, so why now, would this be different? He’s afraid. He doesn’t want to lose you. It’ll be something new for you. And even if he had something similar before, the feeling would be nothing compared to his jubilation if you were to accept him.

Because he loves you, truly.

He wants more, he will always want more with you because he can never get enough.

Absorbing the moonlight while he sits across from you, socked feet nudging one another as you listen with the reflection of the flame burning in your eyes. Swaying to the choppy song he plays on the guitar. Draping a blanket over your figure when you would fall asleep on the couch. You brush his hair out of his eyes. Make him a sandwich. He folds your clothes and sets it on your bed. His arms around you in a moment of sadness.

More.

Carefully, he sets the collar back inside the box and pushes it far back on the shelf, reaching for the other, smaller box. The piece of jewelry he’s been holding onto for the past month, after that night with his parents.

Since then, he knew that this would be right. He’s never been more sure. All he’s waiting for is the right moment. And he can’t give you one without the other.

He’s broken out of his reverie when he hears his phone buzzing in an abandoned corner of his office. He doesn’t answer calls or texts on that phone since it serves a more personal purpose. Anyone of importance would know to reach him on his work phone.

It isn’t difficult for him to ignore the persistent buzzing in the background, but it does annoy him. Like a mosquito hovering around his ears. He should’ve switched off the vibrate option before he sat down. However, after five minutes have passed, his work phone rings and when he reaches for it absentmindedly, eyes on his notebook, an unexpected caller flashes on his screen.

He can’t bring himself to decline, even after he told you multiple times before that he doesn’t enjoy video calls.

After pacing around the room for almost half an hour, you finally kick off your shorts and fall back onto the bed. But before you can go any further, an idea weasels its way into your head. One that would most certainly get you what you want. And more.

So, you spring off the bed with renewed energy and lock the door then reach for your phone, sitting back against the headboard. The vibrator is warmer than before, sliding down the dip between your clothed breasts, hard against hard once you run it over your nipple. You shut your eyes briefly, envisioning Yoongi’s long, knuckly fingers twisting and kneading your breasts. A quiet gasp breaks from your lips and it isn’t long before the vibrator smooths over your inner thighs.

Your thumb slides down the switch to the highest setting, rippling into your flesh as your breaths quicken, panting once you direct it over your swollen nub, legs spread wide open. Lip caught between your teeth as the sensation thrums from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, you fight the urge to dip into your underwear, cracking your eyes open to find your phone and Yoongi. But he doesn’t answer.

You can’t pull your hand away, feet planted flat on the mattress as you buck up into your own fingers, running the vibrator down the sides of your inner lips, crying out when it skims your pulsating hole. Somewhere between finding his work phone number and holding off your orgasm, the back of your head presses into the plush pillow, mouth hanging open as you’re thrown off the edge. Moaning out his name just as he answers your call.

Yoongi’s phone nearly slips out of his hands at the sight. Your cheeks are flushed, strands of hair sticking to your neck, tits out, one hand resting between your legs.

He’s questioning if he really does know you. He’ll worry about that later. Because you clearly don’t know him yet.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, he rises from his chair, making his way down the hall, anger boiling over. You seem to be unaware, lips in a fucked out smile, the buzz of the vibrator still going in the background. He catches that small twitch in your lip, and he loses it.

“What are you up to angel?”

Despite the way you’re spasming, body trembling from pushing yourself over the edge, you still manage to hold the phone up, a mumble of his name reaching his ears.

“I missed you.” You speak around a moan, that particular moan, rolling your hips into your own hand. His cock twitches in his pants. Oh, he’s gonna teach you a lesson tonight.

“Stop,” he growls, almost running to the guest room, a string of curses echoing throughout his home when he hears that needy whine of yours, “angel.”

“Hmmff, daddy.” He reaches the guest room just as your eyes roll back, gripping the pillow beside your head. That damn vibrator disappearing under your panties.

He expected the door to swing open once he twists the handle, head snapping to the phone comically once he makes the horrifying discovery that you’ve locked the door. Despite standing just outside, he looks at your writhing figure with disbelief, fuming when he hears you giggle.

“What’s wrong daddy?”

He grits his teeth, rolling up one sleeve then the other, struggling to keep the phone in his line of sight.

“Angel,” he tries, one deep exhale doing nothing to calm his anger, “open the door. Right now.”

He watches you sit up on the bed, hair framing your face as you shake your head, “no.”

“No?” He pokes his tongue in his cheek, fist meeting the door to see you jump, laughing with your hand covering your mouth. “We’ll see who’ll be laughing once you open the door.”

Yoongi should’ve expected your response, but still, it comes as a surprise to him when you cock a challenging eyebrow, flashing your tits briefly.

“Who said I’m gonna open the door?”

He presses his forehead against the cool wood, speaking through gritted teeth. Hiding his anger poorly when he bangs on the door again.

“If you don’t open this fucking door,” he seethes, ears going hot, “I will break it down and make sure you—” He cuts himself off, shuddering when he hears your laugh tinkering through the speaker and the door. A slight delay from his phone, making you sound demonic.

And that’s exactly what you were going for. You didn’t think it would be this entertaining. He looks pissed off. Face almost unrecognizable as he continues to threaten you. His cheeks are red, lips drawn back in a snarl, hair clinging to his forehead as he continues to bang on the door.

His neighbors must think he’s a psycho with the way he’s yelling your name. Telling you what he’s going to do once he gets his hands on you, which is all talk anyway. You think…Something he says does pique your interest, arousal replacing your mischief.

He runs a hand through his hair, slicked back, sexy when his tongue skims over his lower lip.

“That’s not even half of it,” he grits out, lighting going dim when he hunches over his phone, peering at you through hooded eyes, “I’ll only stop when you’re begging, until the imprint of my hand is on your ass.”

You gulp, folding your legs on the bed, “oh yeah? Have me bent over your lap?”

He brings the phone close to his face, eyes blacked out, “yes. Teach you a fucking lesson.”

“It won’t be a lesson if I like it,” you steam out, unable to stop the words which seems to push him further, rattling with the door handle.

“Angel. You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I don’t mind getting burnt.”

Something flickers behind his eyes, lips coming loose from between his teeth.

“Did you cum?”

The tone in his voice makes you question whether you should lie or not.

“Y-yes.”

All the warning you get is his throaty laugh before he cuts the call, everything going dead silent for a few unnerving moments. You adjust your bra, grimacing as you jump off the edge of the bed, slick pooling in your panties. Hearing shuffling on the other side of the door, you reach for his hoodie hanging on a chair near the desk in time to hear the lock click in the door. You feel your stomach twist in on itself when the door hits the wall, his fingers splayed across the wood.

Standing stock still, you lock eyes with him, chest heaving when he takes one step forward. His gaze falls on the incriminating device lying on the bed behind you.

“Yoong—”

You can feel the adrenalin coursing through your veins when he stalks you against the wall, gripping your hair tight enough for his name to fall out of your lips in a pathetic whimper.

Hands hanging loosely at your sides, you gasp when he kicks your legs apart, fingers curling around your throat.

“So you don’t mind getting burnt, hmm?” His voice is deeper than usual, laced with desire and something else…something carnal.

Tentatively, you reach up to hold his sides, inhaling his exhales when his thigh presses into your clothed pussy.

“Yoongi…”

You can’t help the loud gasp that tumbles out of your throat when he grabs both your wrists and slams it into the wall, holding them taut above your head. He pulls away abruptly, scanning your face as if gauging your reaction. You fall forward, trying to catch his lips in a kiss but he pushes you away harshly. Caging you in when you topple over onto the bed, head cocked to the side.

“You’re…so needy today.” It looked like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

You find your voice, grabbing at his shoulders as you search his eyes.

“You were taking so long with work, and I got bored.”

“So,” he begins, lowering himself onto you fully, “what you’re saying is…when I’m unavailable, you’ll find entertainment elsewhere?”

You feign disinterest, “yeah.” Only realizing it was the wrong answer a little too late.

Surging forward, you try to brush off your response by peppering kisses along his jawline, but despite the stir in his abdomen, he pulls you away with his hold around your waist, tipping your head up with his free hand. He relishes in the way your body trembles under his touch when he slides his hand up your nape, finding purchase in your hair. Pupils blown, and shaking,

“Did I hear you wrong?”

Through his unrelenting grip on your hair, you fight back audaciously.

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p,’ shaking your head like a little brat, “you heard me. You don’t give me attention, I’ll have to find another way to entertain myself.” His gaze falls to your lips when you lean forward, baring your teeth, “no matter what.”

His heart thuds in his chest, a growl climbing up his throat, “is that so? You know what that’ll get you?”

You raise both your eyebrows in question, not backing down even when his fingers twist in your hair. In fact, you do something that makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“What will you do, Yoongi?”

He swallows thickly, gaze flickering between your candy lips and dark eyes.

You roll your eyes when he doesn’t answer, and he tightens his hold in your hair. He did give you a few spanks here and there. But now, he’s determined to teach you a lesson. Because he doesn’t like brats.

When your smirk turns into a playful grin, he knows you’re just teasing him. But he’s far from being playful right now. He sits up, pushing you away lightly before he sucks in a shaky breath and pulls you up with him. Now or never.

“Follow me.”

Honestly, when you first met Yoongi, you knew that a guy like him would have a sex dungeon somewhere in his mansion. Except, it’s nothing like what you imagined and from the way he keeps glancing at you, you can tell he’s nervous about your reaction. And trying to fight off his painful boner.

There’s a bed in one corner, a leather chair in another and a complex network of beams overhead. Dull yet calming lighting. You can feel it in your uterus. The man of your dreams.

There’s an unrecognizable scent in the air, which screams Yoongi. Intoxicating and heavy.

It all looks very…tame. Although the cabinets lining one side of the room are what you’re concerned about.

Trying not to look awkward, you sit down on the leather chair when he leaves the room. Once he returns, holding two black boxes, he halts in the doorway, eyes going wide when he sees you.

Perplexed, you lean back in the chair, holding up a hand, “what?”

If Yoongi wasn’t trying to keep it cool, he would’ve let all inhibitions out the window. Rip off your clothes and strap you to that chair…he feels his balls clench.

He clears his throat, setting the boxes on the small table next to the chair, “do you like it?”

Your hands slide up the armrest, head turning this way and that, “it’s nice. Comfortable.”

He folds his arms, “it’s custom made.”

Recognition passes over your features. The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile when you squeak out a small ‘oh.’

“I’ll show you in a bit but first—” he proffers the bigger box to you, hands trembling “—here.”

Still seated on the chair, you remove the lid, face remaining blank as you fold over the crepe paper. He’s going through all kinds of emotions as he watches your eyes widen, dainty fingers plucking at the leather.

“Oh. Yoongi,” you mutter, looking at him with big eyes, “what’s this?”

Having played it all out in his head, he rests one hand on your shoulder with the other dusting across your cheek, “do you like it?”

You glance at the collar, “it’s pretty.”

He smiles, “like you.”

Despite returning his smile, there’s a look of confusion lingering behind it.

“I want you to wear it.”

He grabs your hand when your fingers shake, bringing it up to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles.

“I want you.” He says, all rehearsed words forgotten as he looks down at your glazed eyes, “all of you.”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He bends over to wrap his arms around your shoulders just as yours reach for his back, overcome with emotions.

“I want you too.”

Grabbing your face in both hands, he kisses every inch of skin he can reach while you giggle. You turn around, combing your hair to the side as you hear it click behind you. Once he’s done, he spins you around and pulls you into bone-crushing embrace, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You melt under him, tongue rolling into his mouth, earning muffled groans from him. Yoongi’s head might explode, he holds you impossibly close, hoisting you further up on the chair as he reaches for the lever on the side. Your tongues collide messily, touches turning greedy as he grips your hair, placing lingering, hot kisses on the column of your throat.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your skin, hooking your legs around his waist, “I fucking love you so much.”

Your breathing is strained, nails digging into his scalp, “I love you –oooh—too”

His tongue curls around your earlobe, sliding down to nip at your supple skin, tugging your hoodie lower to expose more of your flesh to his ravenous mouth. His willpower is strong, but he finds himself fighting with the urge to take you right now. And when his lips mesh with yours again, you do that thing where you suckle on his tongue, tickling the short hairs at the back of his neck, he knows he must pull away.

“I didn’t forget about what you said earlier,” he breathes, looking away when you chase his lips.

“Hmm?” Your voice is small, distracted. Black, leather collar around your neck. Fuck, he mutters. But he has to do it, while he’s riding off the happiness of finally having all of you.

You reach for the other box, “and what’s this?”

He rubs the back of his neck, voice a poor representation of his emotions, “I want you to wear it all the time.”

You gasp, “Yoongi…I would love to, but you know the company—”

He smiles, “that’s why I got you another one.”

Prying the velvet box out of your hands, eyes glued to your face, he removes the lid gingerly and watches your eyes light up.

“Oh my God, Yoongi,” you marvel, taking the heavy necklace from him, “it’s beautiful.”

Yoongi’s eyes remain crinkled as your thumb runs over the circular pendant. You don’t want to scrutinize it in front of him, but you know he wouldn’t mind. A single diamond sits in the center. Wow.

“I wanted it to be classy but simple, you know, for everyday use,” he chuckles, standing between your knees. “We’ll level up once you graduate.”

“I love it.” You exclaim, flipping the pendant over to find the words ‘Daddy’s Angel’ engraved on the other side.

Pt 999 just below.

You feel like your heart is lodged in your throat.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you say with a crumpled voice, gaze locking with his, “I love you. And I’m so lucky to be yours.”

Just as he removes the necklace from your hold, you notice that there are diamonds encrusted in the necklace itself. He places it in the box, closing the lid and nudging it to the side. “You’re gonna wear that one for now.”

His eyes turn heady, tilting his head to the side as he lodges two fingers in the collar. Ring-clad fingers grazing your skin. You sit ramrod straight, stomach flipping when he nods secretively.

“Comfy?”

“Mhm.” You’re afraid to speak, a moan might replace your words under his assaulting gaze. His earlier words enter your mind. You were just teasing, even if you knew better.

You watch as he removes his rings one by one, clicking against the side table as he sets them down. He grabs your right hand, removing your rings in a similar fashion, then your left, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He kneels between your legs, the chair reclining slowly as he grabs your ankles. You comply without thought, watching him strap them to the chair, legs spread open.

“Did you forget about your little show earlier?”

There was a mirror in the back, why didn’t you notice that before? You’re stunned by your own reflection. Sitting in your underwear, Yoongi kneeling between your legs, grey hair tickling your inner thighs when he kisses the tiny pink bow on your white panties, leaving one for the matching bow on your bra too.

“Remember,” he cautions, rolling up his sleeves even higher, deep lighting casting a gentle glow on his handsome features, “if this ever gets too much—”

“I know, Yoongi.” You affirm, letting him push you onto your stomach, the leather molds into your skin. “I want it. Please.”

His shadow dances across your hands, free for now. He had said.

You watch his reflection, coming around the back, eyes on your ass before he turns, then whips his head around.

“The other way, angel.”

Immediately, your head snaps to the other side, cheek pressing into the leather as you stare at the door. Mahogany to match the cabinets.

“You know,” he begins, sounding a little distant, “usually, this isn’t how it would go.”

His rough palms graze your ass cheeks, spreading them open then pushing them together.

“H-how would it go?”

He gives one light test smack, humming to himself when you jolt. You hope he doesn’t misinterpret your sensitivity for fear. You don’t think you’ve been this turned on before in your entire life. You can almost hear the squelches each time you clench. And you’re sure he can hear it too.

“I’m not this…forgiving…gentle.”

“I don’t want forgiving. I don’t want gentle,” you reassure, “I told you, I want it. I need it. What you said earlier. Give it to m—ah.”

Fire trails up your lower back when he smacks your ass again, not giving you time to catch your breath when he lands three harsh smacks in quick succession, ensuring not to hit the same spot each time. He grabs the hem of your panties, pulling it up with one finger for the sodden fabric to stick to your folds, soft whimpers slipping from your lips.

“Couldn’t wait for daddy to finish his work, such a needy little thing.”

The jingle of his belt causes a shiver to run up your spine, panting when you feel the leather dust over the skin of your ass. The loud snap of the belt causes you to jump a bit, gripping the edge of the chair with anticipation. He chuckles, low and husky, taunting your flesh by running the belt over your skin.

“I think you forgot about my low tolerance for disobedience, angel.”

Your pussy clenches, tension building where the belt rests on your ass. All you hear is the belt cutting through the air before you feel it crack against your ass, pleasure rippling through you when he repeats the action.

An excited yelp breaks from your chest when the belt comes down harder on your ass, heat simmering where the leather kisses your flushed skin. You hear him growl, coming close to your center when you ask, beg for more. A satisfied grunt punctuates the snap of the belt, going faster between each whip when he hears you sob, reaching around you to grip his wrist.

Your mind becomes hazy, teeth piercing into your bottom lip as the belt comes down harder and harder each time. He doesn’t stop, seeking all the secrets you’ve kept hidden, lashing into your skin ruthlessly.

“Impatient,” he grunts, his words smoothing over you to pool in your core, “pathetic.”

You’re reeling, sighing out in delight when he grips your hands and holds it behind your back, readjusting his position to draw his hand further back, laughing sadistically when you choke out his name on a particular hard smack.

“You like it when daddy punishes you like this, hmm? Too bad you didn’t ask nicely and decided to disobey me.”

He grabbles your cheeks in his free hand, rubbing over the welts that rise with each passing second. Tremors rise up the length of your body, heated skin thrumming as he fondles your skin.

You catch sight of him curled over your back in the mirror, a sardonic twist to his lips when his tongue flicks out, grazing the shell of your ear, nipping at the column of your throat. His bulge presses against the dip in your back, throbbing as he thumbs away your tears.

“You take it so well angel,” he whispers hotly, dragging the belt between your straining legs, ankles twisting in its restraints, “but daddy’s not done yet.”

When your gaze connects with his in the mirror, he drops the belt, twirling around to rummage in one of the cabinets before he yanks your head back, hand sliding down, fingers closing around your neck. The collar digs into your skin uncomfortably when he finds a better grip, but you’re too far gone to care.

Soft fabric covers your eyes, pulled tight around your head before he relinquishes his hold on your neck, senses in a frenzy. You hear shuffling behind you, then his hand is back on your ass. Thumbs teasing your engorged clit, but still not enough. You can hear your breath escape your lips more than you actually feel it enter your lungs, ceasing in your chest.

“What’s your color?”

You’re drooling, mouth hanging open as your chest tightens when he lands two swift slaps to your abused skin, jerking forward.

“Angel. I asked you a question.”

Licking your lips, you lean up on your palms, trying to reach for him but he pushes your head down, merciless fingers digging into the back of your neck.

“G-green,” you whimper, heat licking at your abdomen. “Green.”

A low buzzing sound is heard, getting closer and closer until you’re being swiveled around onto your back, the leg rest rotating with you. Before you can process the position, cool air hits your puffy folds, lips parting in a loud shriek when he presses something hard against your clit, vibrations surging through you.

“Daddy, please.”

Your hands are being held together against your stomach, vibrations urging more moans to puff out of your lips in breathless whispers.

“Please, what? I thought you enjoyed using this today?”

Your hands are strapped to the chair, back arching as you feel the coil tighten in your abdomen.

“Without my permission.”

After a few moments, you hear him click his tongue, fingers plucking at your nipples. You can feel your slick drip down your folds, wet and hot as you grind down on the object but then.

“Don’t cum.”

To your horror, he switches it off, leaving it there between your folds as the pleasure ebbs away.

“Yoongi.”

Breath stuttering in your throat, your eyes screw shut when he slaps your clit, rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud before bringing it up to your lips. You swallow up his fingers slick with your taste, sucking on them eagerly, garbled moans slipping between each thrust. He splays his fingers across your abdomen, halting your movements when he notices that you’re still grinding down on the vibrator.

“Stop,” he orders, pulling his fingers out of your mouth then tugging down your lower lip. A splatter of his saliva falls into your mouth, free hand rolling your nipple frenetically. “Swallow. Good girl. Keep your mouth open.”

His husky voice ignites a new hunger within you, nails digging into the plush leather when you feel the blunt tip of his cock nudge your upper lip.

“Take it, that’s it.” The silk covering your eyes sticks to your skin, wet with your tears from having your end snatched away from you. And by the time he’s done thrusting into your mouth with shallow jerks of his hips, the material only gets wetter.

Yoongi’s balls slap your forehead once he grabs your neck, thumb pressing into the collar as the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat, pushing in further and keeping it there. Tight and hot, driving him to insanity.

“Fuck,” he draws his hips back, your lips pink and swollen already. He groans when your tongue flicks out to lick the underside of his cock. Quickly regaining himself, he tightens his hold around your neck, heat radiating from every inch of his skin as he fucks your throat, balls clenching at the bulge under the collar.

Molten waves of pleasure wash over him, head thrown back, muttering under his breath when you gag. His head lolls forward, seeing his cock rest on your cheek as you take strained breaths. He pulls off the silk, uncovering your eyes to see them bloodshot and pleading.

Fuck. He grips your chin, holding your mouth open before shoving his cock into your mouth, riding on the rhythm of your muffled moans.

“Look at you, letting me use your mouth like this,” he grits, pausing briefly, nerves sizzling when you hollow out your cheeks. Lewd and sloppy. Almost cumming from the sight of you looking absolutely debauched with a mouthful of his cock. “Fuck, can you hear yourself? Choking on my cock like this?”

His thrusts grow animalistic, breaths becoming ragged with your lips wrapped around his cock, more rigid as he continues to piston into your mouth.

He sees your hands twist, begging to be freed and that coupled with your tiny whimpers tips him off the edge, prolonging the pleasure with short thrusts, shooting down your throat as he catches his breath.

“Swallow it, all of it.”

And like the good girl you are, you roll out your tongue to show him that you’ve followed his orders. His cock stands tall and proud, still hard when he straddles your lap, fully clothed while you’re bare beneath him, smiling at the prospect of having his cock inside you.

He gives his cock a few tugs, rolling his palm around the head to see your glistening slit clench, the vibrator laying far away somewhere on the floor.

“Want daddy to stuff you full of his cock? Stuff this pussy with his cum?” He catches your clit between his thumb and forefinger, loving the way you squirm under him, lips in a pained frown.

“Want daddy’s cock,” you hiccup, barely managing to keep your eyes open when he sinks two fingers into your hole, fucking into his fist with the same speed.

“You love it, don’t you? When daddy uses you like his little fucktoy, hmm?” He speaks around a moan, cock twitching as he watches your boobs bounce around on your chest.

Hooking his fingers inside you, he grins when he finds that spot to hear you cry out, toes curling, mumbling incoherencies. Just when the squelches of your slick drenching his fingers drowns out your soft blabbering, walls closing around him, he pulls out. Lips stretching over his teeth as your face twists in terror.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he breathes, gripping your hips harshly, rutting into the soft flesh of your tummy. Your stomach quivers under him, glazed with his precum. His nail drags down your lower lip, huffing when the familiar heat builds once again. Pleas in your eyes.

“So fucking needy, you couldn’t wait a little while longer?”

He holds onto your boobs for leverage, marveling at the way they spill out of his palms when you jut your chest out for more, mewling and begging. A droplet of sweat hits your collarbones, dripping off his hair as he hunches over you and grips the base of his cock, hot spurts of cum painting your tits and neck, some hitting your chest.

You’re trying to break of out the restraints, pussy clenching uncontrollably as he rides out his high by circling your nipple with his tip, gummy smile directed your way when you protest. You feel the blood drain from your face when you’re painfully reminded of your first night with him.

Spent and fatigued, he rolls over you, tucking his cock back inside his pants before undoing the straps on your hands and feet, feeling your indignant stare on his face.

“Yoongi…daddy. Please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, grinding into his knee but he shoves you off, hands on either side of your head as he levels you with a firm stare. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I thought I told you before, only good girls get to cum.”

With that, he tosses you the robe he had ready and unlocks the door, passing you a glance over his shoulder.

“Come, let’s get you ready for bed.”

a/n — if you liked this, please consider dropping a like/reblog or an ask if you’re shy <3

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