Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12462261.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Min_Yoongi_|_Reader
  Character:
      Min_Yoongi, Reader
  Additional Tags:
      Public_Sex, Vaginal_Sex, Blood_Play, Penetration, Barebacking, Suga_|_Min
      Yoongi_-_Freeform, Established_Relationship, One-Shot, absolute_sin,
      Daddy_Kink, baby_girl_kink, Pain_Kink, Bathroom_Sex, abusive_but_only
      slightly, zero_fluff, zero_anything_but_sex, I_was_a_horny_little_fuck
      when_I_wrote_this_last_night
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-23 Words: 3992
****** You Keep Me Entertained (You Keep Me Horny) ******
by Mincity
Summary
     Min Yoongi can’t help but find his girlfriend more interesting than
     these bullshit day-to-day events.
Your name: Kim Hyeseong
 
 
• Hyeseong •
 
Yoongi and I had another fight earlier this week. I came to my senses about two
days later. I'm disposable. In my reality, my role is simple. Clean house, take
care of the kids I don't have yet, wear my makeup everyday, lose weight even
when I'm underweight, be perfect. And so on.
Min Yoongi is the number one producer in the country. He's beyond rich, famous,
and wanted by everyone. He doesn't let his success make him someone he's not.
Hence his lack of obnoxious traits, but that doesn't mean he's that adoring
towards me. He's stoic, there's just so much lovable about him. Small things
that only someone this close to him would notice. He does just enough to keep
me here, if not I'd have left him already.
Apparently, I inspire his music. This is the sole purpose of me being in a
relationship with him.  Love songs don't just come out of people's asses, he
once told me.
I'm the lucky girl that he chose out of the endless and growing supply he has.
We fought over our anniversary, and when I say we fought over it I mean it's
been a year since we became exclusive and he forgot. That would piss anyone
off.
We made up eventually, but only if I admitted that I was wrong. I wasn't. He
knows I wasn't.
I check myself in the mirror again. I only wear things that are in his taste, a
black skirt that hugs my curves and a see through shirt but it's really only
see through if you're looking for it. Neither pieces do justice to my body.
Underneath these clothes, which I made sure to wear easily removed ones, are
black lingerie. Just for him, and for the sake of my status as the girl to the
one, the only.
"Yoongi," My brow crinkles like a frown as I stare at my reflection. With him
depriving me of details, I might be too casually dressed. It wouldn't be my
fault if I'm undressed going to wherever it is but Min Yoongi will still find a
way to blame me for it.
All members of our pool of high society whispering about the woman of Min who
can't dress appropriately. He'll hate it. He'll despise the feeling that the
judging eyes. Yet, he'll find a way to blame me.
"What?" He doesn't look up at me. Instead he keeps his eyes on his laptop, and
stays seated at his work desk. Clearly annoyed that I'm still getting dressed,
and that he's been ready for almost half an hour.
I see him look around half heartedly in search of his headphones, to help tune
me out.
When he can't find them or remember where he sat them, I watch as he simply
gives up, opting for the conversation with a grudge.
"Do you think this outfit is appropriate?" I move some of my curled black hair
out of my face so he gets a decent look at my makeup and earrings.
He spins in the swivel chair for a second, adjusting his eyes to something
other than the harsh glow of the computer's screen.
When his eyes adjust he once's me over with a quick sweep of his dark brown
(practically black) eyes, judging me and without mercy, and rolls his eyes I'm
disapproval.
"Rephrase that question." He orders, pointing his finger at me and then
crossing his arms over his chest hiding the front of his tailored suit.
I know what he wants, as a constant witness to this attitude. "Does this outfit
make me look... fuck-able?" I shift my feet from being nervous. It's being
subjected to this daily that's subsiding my care for this man.
He rolls his eyes. "The answer is no. If my friends don't want to fuck you when
you're dressed like that then you're nothing. I wouldn't even want to fuck you
in that. Take it off." He gets up and leaves our bedroom, with a harsh slam of
the door.
Shit. I release a frustrated sigh in response to his unexpected, but expected,
outburst. His favorite way to treat people —not just me— is with venom. Even
when we sleep together it's cold. There's not the warmth of love that should be
there, instead loathing on top of self-loathing mixed with my ignorance.
Thinking that I can help him with sex. I know he needs more than that, besides
a physical connection. I'm incapable of caring like that, just like he is.
Fuck, this is why he hates me. No, no that's not true. Min Yoongi loves me.
I strip myself bare of everything I was wearing and opt to straighten my hair.
He was unsatisfied.
I have to rest at the foot of the bed before I can put my clothes back on. I
need to regain my breath and think. This is the easiest way to age faster and
die sooner. Worrying about what one individual thinks of you. "Hyeseong." He
pokes his silver haired head back in hesitantly, through the cracked door. I
don't answer him.
"Screw the charity benefit. I'm sorry."
I look up at him but then look back down faster than I did the first time;
knowing that my mascara left dark streaks from my eyelids eagerly meeting the
pale skin of my cheeks. "Jesus Christ, pet."
He grabs a stray silk to cover my naked body before glancing at the new clothes
that I'd laid out before shivering with tears. He shakes his head, more at
himself than me and my over-emotional status. "You need to sleep."
"N-no. What about image? The press is going to be there. The press is going to
be there." I whisper with a shaking voice from the silent crying.
Yoongi shuts me up with a skim of his lips on the shell of my ear. "I just need
you to know that no matter what you're wearing, and sometimes I can't force
myself to say it enough, you're first class beauty. No one in existence could
captivate me the way you do."
Suddenly the one I met is back, he's sweet. He's loving. He's assuring me that
his love is still there and it stays with mine, no matter how cut off he can be
at times. We both know the main factors in his life can stress him out more
than he should let them, but we just ended that argument; in which he occupies
himself in work more than the people that are close to him.
"I'm going to get dressed, and I'll look up to your standards. Your friend are
going to all want me."
He smiles at my child-like enthusiasm. "Okay," But then he's back. "Ten
minutes, and be trophy perfect."
Then he's gone, but it was nice having the Min Yoongi I like around for a few
minutes.
 
 
 
 
 
"Yoongi," a middle aged woman approaches my boyfriend and I, not even within a
whole five minutes of us arriving.
She looks just like him. Pale skin, and they eyes are a perfect match —natural
brown with flecks of mesmerizing gold— and it scares the crap out of me. I've
never met his mother before. I take a look at the people surrounding me, and
dressed in black tie and ballroom gown attire. Yoongi is fine, by as for
myself...
I settled for a simple dress. Not to go too far into specifics; but it's that
of what a high school student would wear.
"I'm so glad you could make it." She takes notice of me and makes a sound of
disapproval, but swallows whatever her next words were. "And you brought your
new wife? I'm Yoongi's mother, darling. It's nice to meet you." She graces me
with a sincere; but not really sincere before uttering promises of catching up
with us and entering a circle of older women.
"When did we get married again?" I ask, not looking directly at him. He
chuckles at the fact that he forgot to tell me.
"Don't worry, I forgot too." He reloops our arms together and walks me in
general directions, fake smiling and clearly trying to avoid conversation. We
both know it's unavoidable in the long mile though. People are already trying
to flag him down to speak. His friends are already sneaking glances at me,
while they're trophy wives mingle and speak about the venue.
High society gathering entail garden parties with sparkling water, an
assortment of other aesthetics but not really pleasing toon Yoongi — or of his
taste. They entail pretending the weather is nice 'perfect for gardening'
(although  wall have personal gardeners) even though it's too hot to exist in
this temperature. They entail wearing life-ending heels in the grass covered in
morning dew; that I'd love to run through barefoot.
Yoongi's aesthetic taste weighs between poolside cocktails and watching me cook
him breakfast wearing one of his oversized shirts.
Mine are whenever I'm with him, cliché as it sounds, I'm happy as long as he's
happy. Sometimes it's our secret conversations, like when we're talking
normally to each other but he accidentally lets it slip that one day he wants
us to have kids (one boy name Yoonhyun, or one girl named Yoonji, doesn't
matter as long as one can carry his name) and that he doesn't like lying to
members of our society about when we became married; simply because he hasn't
had time to marry me.
"There's no chance I'm going to make it through this." He states, not wanting
to be here any more than I do.
When it comes to public facing, neither of us care much for it but much prefer
staying at home and not wearing pants for days at a time.
We idle closer to the exits and the restrooms. "I have an idea, if you're up
for it."
I look around our surroundings, inching closer to my desired destination with
my boyfriend in tow. No one (for once) is paying attention to us. "I had the
idea first." He reaches into his pocket and holds out a condom for me to see
how much trouble this little piece of rubber could cause us right now and it
wouldn't be such a bad thing to me.
For him, it'd be suicide. If The Min Yoongi was caught fucking his supposed
wife in a public restroom at a charity benefit dedicated to ASPCA or something
to that effect, there would be no end to the articles. That news would spread
globally of the most sought after tycoon becoming vulnerable and flesh-to-flesh
in a place like this. It would ruin him, but I would have no affect.
I'm just some nobody girl he owns, in the eyes of the public. Someone who's
nameless but is still an important personality. The only human being close to
this cold-exterior genius.
Public sex has its own set of issues; at least for me. Me being the woman Min
Yoongi is in control of.
He's a monster in bed, the good kind but can turn into the bad kind. It's not
even his kinks but simply his skill that can haunt you mid-fuck. Not only does
his ungodly length ruin me, but his hands, his tongue, everything turns me into
a puddle before him.
This is just more of the power that this person uses for evil and not good; not
that I'd ever fix my lips to complain about that preference.
There was a time in which I almost lost that pleasure because I said something
against that preference, a mistake no one should forgive.
His hand roughly tugs me into the family side of the restrooms, rather than
male or female. I don't have time to take even one breath before the lights are
on and the door is locked and I'm against a wall being pinned at the wrists.
"Don't say anything, not until I give you permission. Not even one of those
cute moans you let out."
His pink lips find their way to my collar bone, on a spot that was hidden in
the dress that's being dropped around my ankles. That dress that never really
mattered but he made such a big deal over whether or not I was attractive in
it. I glance around at the restroom we're in and it figures; these people
furnished it beyond the point of just being extra.
They color scheme plays with me, of a regular creme color and then a slight
pastels twirling in my vision; but I'm not even sure anymore because his hands
have wandered into places that will cause me to break my promise of silence.
Conveniently, the room has been furnished with a small couch. Not really big
enough for us to lay across but big enough for two people to sit on.
He seems like he's prepared to take things slow, seeing as how nothing has
really happened between us in a good few months. Not by choice, but like I
referred to before he'd been working. Something that, thankfully, pays for my
lavish lifestyle and with persistence.
"Fuck, this underwear? You'll have to explain yourself." He groans once he
finally takes his time to look at his work and not attack my skin. Yoongi
places his hand on my cheek and gazed at me. "I'm about to ruin you." I see his
hardening length prominent through his slacks.
His hands move up grip meat my thighs and carries me to the sink. Set up like a
long counter with two actual sinks, made out of marble and it's cold against my
nakedness. I flinch at the sudden change in temperature.
I look him in the eyes and am greeted by nothing but raw animalistic lust.
Those few months in which we didn't touch each other and barely slept in the
same bed took a tole on him, but it might just pay off. "I'm going to take my
time with you. Make you feel like you look. Like a good little slut on this
counter." His silver hair disappeared lowly. He ducks his head and becomes eye
level with my wetness. I can feel nothing but his hot breath fanning the most
sensitive, and growing impatient, area of my body. This causes me to release a
heavy and troubled sigh, remembering that I've been ordered to be silent for
the time being and it's making me frustrated more than anything.
He hears my sigh but let's it slide rather than punishing me, clearly eager to
devour me. I hold my vow of silence for a whole four seconds as Yoongi plunges
his tongue into my core.
Thankfully, I cover my own mouth as I scream a loud "fuck" into the air.
He hums against my clit, but doesn't stop his pink muscle from fucking into me.
When I'm certain that I won't scream again, I tangle my fingers in Yoongi's
hair, making sure I don't scratch him with my unnatural nails.
His tongue locks a stripe all the way from my core to the clit. This is pure
ecstasy. I feel the air around myself heating up with my pants and huffs of
pleasure.
He punishes me with denial of my rushing orgasm, by pulling his head back up to
look me in the eyes. I whine completely unsatisfied and a little pissed off.
His eyes full of mischief this time and but the absolute lust is still present.
"You taste so good, baby girl. Now I want you to be good from now on or your
punishment will get worse. Do you understand?" He harshly gropes my thighs,
intentionally causing me pain being being the sadist that he is. He's being
slightly more gentle than he normally is. He knows that the cameras out there
will catch the bruises and have them published in seconds, arousing more than
just silly scandals.
He places his thumb on my leaking core and whispers. "You're soaking," He
pushes one finger in but gets impatient and adds two more, harshly thrusting
them in and out.
"I- I know just... fuck," I rest my head on the mirror behind me and squeeze my
eyes shut, feeling even more needy. He knows his fingers aren't enough for me.
Yoongi kisses my neck, assuringly. "Don't worry I'm about to. First, show your
daddy how you fuck yourself. We haven't done this in three months. Show me how
you got yourself off without me. Without him my throbbing hard cock."
He demands this while unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. I help him
remove it completely, running my hands over the expanse of his pale chest. He
ruins the sensual moment by shoving his still wet fingers into my mouth, and
with his free hand wrapping it around my throat roughly. "If you do exactly as
I say, I'll reward you." He whispers with a sing-song tone, and glides to the
before-mentioned love seat in the corner, still shirtless and with his hands in
his slack pockets.
"You look even better from here, with your slutty legs spread wide open for
me." He sits gracefully. I feel his dark eyes boring into me with hunger,
roaming my entire body. And holy fuck, it turns me on like nothing ever has.
Min Yoongi is the type to drive his sexual partner insane, not even having to
touch them because any human being would fall at his mercy with his natural
good looks.
I don't waste time, deciding against playing with his defiant impatience. His
hardness is still fight against his layers, but he's completely focused on my
naked position on the counter. "Go on, Hyeseong. Fuck your self for me like a
good girl."
And I do.
I start off with my index finger, not so shyly dipping into inwards. Fuck
yourself for me like a good girl. His disgusting words ring in my ears, not
failing to elicit a moan from my throat. I feel tears begin to sting at the
corners of my eyes. A third finger is added.
Before I can feel it in full swing, my thighs start shaking. This is my pre-
orgasm movement and Yoongi knows it well.
Just as I feel myself pouring a mess onto the area near me, I feel him stalk
over to me without much more restraint.
His quick hands work his belt buckle, buttons, zipper, pants line, and
eventually boxers. Eventually his monstrous length is revealed to my big eyes.
"Please, please Yoongi." I've abandoned all dignity for the pleasure I know he
can bring me. He stays silent allowing me to beg him for sexual pleasure.
"You're embarrassing."
Without another word from either of us, I feel his tip enter me slowly. I'm
already clawing at his back. "Faster, oh my god. Faster, please."
He complies and eases the rest of himself in less agonizingly slowly. I'm
delightfully being ripped apart by his pulsing length. "Fuck, I'm not gonna
last like this." Yoongi huskily states between thrusts. His tip engages with my
g-spot regularly.
His soft lips latch onto a spot on my neck, pulling out a moan from my throat.
I'm becoming worked up. I can feel it. He can feel it, but he actually does
something about it. Yoongi's hands spread my legs wider, encouraging me to wrap
them around his waist to push his cock in further. "Fucking hell, Min Yoongi."
I let my head fall back and bite my lip, to keep from screaming. "N-no,
Hyeseong bite my shoulder if you have to." I don't waste any fucking time and
take him up in the offer.
"Are you close?" He shakily asks, pounding into me like it's his job. "Tell me
you're getting close."
I don't answer him, a thin sheen of sweat finding its way onto my forehead. His
large hand slaps harshly onto my cheek. "Don't ignore me." He doesn't miss a
beat and keeps fucking me on the counter.
"Y-yes, daddy. I'm close." I answer truthfully and not wanting another slap to
my face.
The coil in my stomach snaps without my permission, forcing my orgasm and
sending me over the edge into an orgasmic high. I know I don't scream because
my teeth sink so far into his shoulder that the copper taste of blood invaded
my senses.
The overstimulation in my lower area free my orgasm causing Yoongi to force
himself to pull out of me before he came.
"Get on your knees and finish what you started." He snaps at me.
I do as I’m told, still in the danger zone, and give his tip a kitten lick.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growls, warning me that teasing him would be a
desperate mistake. He’s right.
Without wanting to wait around anymore, Yoongi grabs a fistful of my hair and
curses while he fucks himself down my throat. My mouth expands in attempt to
handle all of his inches. “Hollow your cheeks.” He throws his head back and
begins losing himself in his heavy panting.
He brutal fucks my mouth, chasing his pleasure and it’s not long before I feel
him filling my mouth up completely with his release.
Yoongi is clearly out of energy so I finish him off myself, feeling drops of
him roll down my chin and land on my knee. I still savor his sweet taste that
I’ve always kind of loved.
He looks down at me once he’s finished and caught his breath, and grabs my
chin. “You’re filthy.”
I don’t move from my spot or even blink as he taps my cheek with the tip of his
now soft cock, asserting dominance once more.
“Kiss it,” He forces his tip closer to my lips. “And thank me for fucking you
like the whore you are.”
I wrap my lips around his tip, tasting the last of his come and shut my eyes.
My tongue plays with his slit. “Thank you, daddy, for fucking me like the whore
I am.”
I see him evidently fall out of his sexual persona. “Come on, and let’s get you
cleaned up baby girl.” He says sweetly, satisfied with both of our
performances.
He finds a clean towel within the shelf next to the door and runs it under the
hot water tap, then makes a finger motion that signals he wants me to come to
him.
For the next half an hour, we clean each other away of the sinful filth that’s
marked us during intercourse.
Semen, slight blood, saliva, markings, you name it.
He’s redressing me, slowly because he’s bad at it, and starring at me lovingly.
“You’re perfect. I hope you know that, Hyeseong.”
“I didn’t think so, but...” I look back at him and finally allow my lips to
meet his. “I love you so much.”
And he finally says it back.
 
 
~~~~
 
 
“Two months later and this is all anybody can still fucking talk about!” The
angrier man throws the tablet across the room, resulting in shatters of glass.
Yoongi snaps for me to go clean up the mess, and scowls as if it was a burden
to have to tell me to do something like that. As if he expects that to be my
role. My heels clomp against the floors as I go to grab the broom. His eyes
silently undress me, I can feel them, as I move to follow his with held orders.
I oblige, knowing fully well what I’ll get if I don’t.Our punishments have been
harshly brutal lately, just like his publicity.
“Yoongi, I knew what I was getting into when I took this job as you manager but
Jesus fucking Christ, next time you want to fuck you girlfriend, try doing it
at home, where millions of people aren’t waiting outside of the restroom just
to see the two of you walk out with fogged mirrors.”
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!