please hold | myg
pairing: idol!yoongi x fem!reader
w/c: 2.1k
summary: your boyfriend is taking you out after he gets off of work, but you want him now. even if he has to take an important business call.
tags: 18+, smut, light choking, slight spanking, a little bondage, light degradation, orgasm denial, all the good stuff.
a/n: i've had this written for like a year lmao, i just had to fix it. here it finally is, hope you like it!
Here you are, once again lounging on the black couch at Genius Labs. Yoongi is quickly working at his station, rolling his chair back and forth between the keyboard and the three monitors at his desk. His headphones are on and his eyes dart fervently across the screens; he is in his own world, and you love to watch him work.
He had asked you to stop by the office before you went home tonight. He wrapped up a big project and wants to go out with you to celebrate. He isn’t allowed to tell you what it is, but you could tell over the phone that his excitement could barely be contained. It must be big. He talked so fast and excitedly that his rough Daegu accent started slipping through. He had even hinted that if you played your cards right, you might get a little action tonight. You’ve been asking him to fuck you in his studio for months now, and you can’t help but be a little giddy with the thought of it possibly happening tonight. And now, you’re glad you wore this outfit.
You’re not a very patient woman, but you try to be on your best behavior when you let yourself in and see he’s immersed. You always let him come to a natural stop where he wants because you understand the creative process like few others do. That's something he really likes about you.
So you watch, and you wait. You’re laying flat on his sofa, legs hoisted up and crossed on the back of the seat as you scroll through Twitter as you hear the mouse sporadically clicking.
He chews on the inside of his cheek and furrows his eyebrows as he makes a cut in the sound. His tongue pokes out and grazes his bottom lip, wetting it, and you press your thighs together to stifle a little of your growing desire. God, he is beautiful. You watch as his hands fly over the keyboard, his dexterous fingers flexing and his rings shimmering in the light.
That tongue should be on you, and those fingers should be in you. You shift on the sofa so that your legs are down, and you can feel yourself getting wet. You pray for him to hurry up.
As if he had heard your prayer and decided to answer it, Yoongi takes off his headphones and hangs them on their designated hook. He turns toward you and finally really takes you in. He runs his eyes lazily over your crop top and mini skirt combination, raising an eyebrow at you in a silent question. You bite your lip and grin up at him with hungry eyes, giving him the silent answer.
You two had always been on the same page.
Like lightning, he’s out of his chair and on top of you, one hand up your skirt and the other one’s middle and ring fingers are pressing down against your tongue. This man can go from zero to one hundred faster than you can hike up your skirt, and you are one hundred percent here for it.
He massages circles on your covered clit as you suck on his fingers, more than eager to feel him inside of you already. He bites and nibbles along your cleavage and you smell his musky shampoo, and then…
His phone rings.
With a growl, he hoists himself off of your frame and grabs the phone on his desk. Once he sees who’s calling, he scoffs.
“I’m sorry, babe, I have to take this. He was supposed to call hours ago.” He slides the finger that was just a hair away from your clit across the screen to answer the call, and you deflate into the cushion.
You’ve been so good and patient; surely you can wait a little longer.
“Excuse me?” Yoongi blurts out, “You’ve got to be lying to me right now.”
You freeze. Oh, no. He’s mad. You can hear the man on the other end of the line rapidly talking, you guess in an attempt to defend himself.
“I absolutely told you that’s what would happen. Was I not clear? Did I not tell you that if it wasn’t dropped off by 5 that we wouldn’t be able to send it until Monday?”
This is going to be a long one. The ache in between your thighs is still there, pestering you. His heightened blood pressure has caused his veins to pop out of his arms, and looking at them bulge out is too much. You can’t take it anymore. You reach down and gingerly slide off your panties, tossing them to the side and then begin circling your clit with your middle finger. You sigh with the wave of pleasure that courses through you at finally, finally getting some relief. You pick up the pace.
“So you’re telling me that you have single handedly set this project back three whole days with your incompetence and you want me to figure out how it can be fixed?” he screams into the phone as he turns around and finally catches what you’re doing. He freezes, mouth agape. His eyes widen.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure whether its directed at the man on the phone or at you.
His eyes alight with something dark, and he comes over to you and grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. You pout and he barks into the phone, “Hold on a minute,” before he muffles the microphone on his black t-shirt.
“What do you think you’re doing, woman?” he hisses at you, desperately trying to keep his voice low, your arm still firm in his grasp, “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
You put on your best doe eyes and shake your head, poking out your lip slightly for maximum effect. He releases your wrist from his iron grip and goes back to his call.
“Absolutely not,” he says into the phone, as if answering his earlier question, “What makes you think that’s going to work?”
All you want is his attention, and now you know how you can get it. You let your hand graze against your throbbing clit again, and you have no reason to hold yourself back. You let one finger slide into your aching slit and moan at the pleasure. Hearing you, Yoongi whirs around again, this time with real heat in his eyes.
“Why does nobody listen to me!?” he yells, and he’s back on you in an instant. He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, where he sucks your finger clean.
“You’ve gotten yourself into this mess,” he says to the man, “You’re going to have to accept the consequences.”
Why does it feel like he’s talking to you too?
He holds the phone up to his ear with one hand, and his other quickly replaces the hand he removed. Without batting an eye, he pushes two dry fingers into your slit, and you groan at the stretch. God, it already feels so good. You’re so worked up already that you feel as though you’re already halfway there. The man on the phone is rambling endlessly and Yoongi pulls the phone away from the both of you, holding it at a distance, letting the man talk to the air.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” he mumbles in your ear, “I can’t believe how impatient you are. You want it so bad, slut? You can fucking have it.”
He holds the phone back up to his ear as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. You relish in the feeling of his long fingers pushing you to the edge. He’s listening to the man continue to ramble. His jaw is set and mouth is pressed into a firm line, clearly extremely annoyed.
“Sangook,” he says, but the man keeps talking. Yoongi adds a third finger, darting his eyes over to you for a moment as he watches you grit your teeth at the addition. He loves watching you take him, especially when you have to adjust to him. He continues his pace as he listens to the man ramble until he’s finally had enough.
“Sangook!” Yoongi yells, and the man on the other end finally goes quiet. The only thing you can hear is how wet you are; you’re squelching lightly with each entry of his fingers. He seems to notice too now, and flicks his eyes over to your heat. His eyes darken as he licks his parted lips, and he draws his eyes up your frame to meet your hungry gaze. He speaks clearly into the phone, but maintains his eye contact with you.
“Listen to me,” he says, arching his eyebrows at you as he presses his thumb against your clit. He’s bringing you closer to orgasm, and he knows it. “You’re just going to have to wait. You blatantly disregarded my instructions.”
Just as you tighten in preparation for your climax, he removes his fingers, and you almost start crying at the loss of pleasure. He turns away from you again.
“You’re lucky I don’t fire you for this, you know?” he barks into the phone as he stands up and leaves you there to painstakingly come down from the high that you were just moments away from.
You clench your thighs together and curl your legs up to you as you turn on your side and stuff your face into the throw pillow. You groan dramatically into the cushion, and you hope throwing a small fit will get you what you want. You peak up from the pillow, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, when you see him walking towards you with something black in his hands.
He’s holding his phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he listens to Sangook on the other end. Yoongi’s eyebrows are furrowed together as he fidgets with what he’s holding, and then you hear it: the unmistakable ‘rrrrrrrpp’ of tape being pulled.
Your eyes widen as you see the long strip of shiny black electrical tape catch the ceiling light.
“Yoon… gi?” you murmur, transfixed on his grin as he steps closer to you.
“I’m just going to have to make sure that this doesn’t happen again going forward,” he says into the phone, “you understand.”
He climbs on top of your frame, pressing your torso further into the couch as he quickly gathers your wrists and begins to tie them. You squirm beneath him, but his grip, and then the electrical tape, is too strong. Before you know it, your wrists are securely bound at the base of your back. You hear the roll of tape hit the floor, and you feel him shuffle behind you.
“Now,” he says, “to be clear, you’re on thin ice. Do you understand me?”
He hikes up your skirt and palms your ass with his free hand. You turn your head to look back at him as best as you can, and you poke your tongue out at him. Your desire to be defiant is strong today.
He tilts his head and looks at you with incredulity. His eyes wide, mouth agape, and furrowed eyebrows tell you that despite how bratty you’ve been, he’s still a little shocked. A moment later, his palm strikes your ass, and it strikes hard. You yelp as your skin smarts at the hit, cunt clenching at nothing. He leans forward, pressing his weight against you, and you feel his lips graze against the shell of your ear.
“Are you going to be good for me now?”
You huff. He wraps his hand around your throat and gives it a little squeeze. “Answer me, brat.”
“Are you going to give me what I want now?” you retort, and in an instant, he’s off of you and you feel his arm snaking under your belly. He hoists your ass up and presses himself against your slit; you look back and see the phone is still pressed up against his ear. You hear a faint zip, and your mind swims with thoughts of him fucking you while on a business call.
He eases himself in and lets out a long breath as he bottoms out. He fucks into you hard and fast, leaving you a whimpering mess on the throw pillow. He’s got one hand on the phone and his other on your hip, pulling you to meet his thrusts.
“Yeah, uh huh, that sounds like a good plan, Sangook,” he says right as he lets his free hand find your clit, “Go see what you can do and make me remember why I hired you in the first place.”
You’re reaching your climax and the moment the hand that was previously holding the phone grasps your hair, you come undone. You scream and cry into the pillow, not wanting to be heard by Sangook on the other end of the call. He fucks you hard through your orgasm, and from the feeling of his grip tightening, you can tell he isn’t far behind. He grunts and spills out into you, sputtering his hips through his own high, groaning deeply as he pulls out.
“No, I just hit my toe. And Sangook, if you don’t have this fixed by the end of the night, be prepared to retrieve your things from the office on Monday.”
Click.
