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If Yoongi were to say that this day had been rough it would be the fucking understatement of the year. Rough doesn’t even start to describe the horror that is today. He’s just come out from another boring ass meeting, sick and tired of the same bobblehead followers mindlessly agreeing with every single thing their superiors spew, including what he spews. As he stands by the entrance of the tall grey building, rain falling solemnly from the sky, he lights a cigarette. He’s so fucking done, how are they supposed to do anything properly anymore if they don’t even have people that can think for themselves?
He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, smoke burning up his lungs; a slow but welcome death. Twelve years in the business, he’d thought he could find proper men but apparently not. He has no one to blame but himself, ultimately he’s the one who decides who gets to stay and who doesn’t. Fucking incompetent assholes, all of them. He makes a note to move “cleanse the entire fucking empire” up on his to-do list as he stubs his cigarette.
What good is he if he can only fucking pretend to rule a city from the underground in his fancy grey suits and with his intimidating scowl? No good at all, he might as well fucking end everything. Do it properly or don’t do it at all he thinks gravely to himself. The irritation is settling deep in his bones and the frustration of potential failure and collapse is weighing too heavily on his shoulders. He needs a fucking escape and that’s exactly what he’s going to get.
Yoongi makes his way to the parking lot, not caring about getting his stupid $300 suit wet. What difference does it make anyways? He can buy as many fucking suits as he wants. When he makes it to his car he’s soaked to the bone; water dripping from the tips of his hair, rolling gently down the pale skin of his face. As he settles into the driver’s seat he sends off a text before starting the undoubtedly tedious drive home.
The rain keeps pouring throughout the drive, it’s around 2am and the streets are silent as Yoongi passes the flashing lights of the city. He’s got a million things on his mind but soon enough he can forget everything, at least for a little while. Forget about the useless assholes, the ugly deeds, the inevitable sting of guilt somewhere deep inside him that he chooses to ignore as best as he can. Just say fuck it all and live in the emptiness of his mind for a sacred while.
Yoongi finally reaches his destination after a good 45 minutes. It’s a large beautiful building, mainly constructed from glass. He can’t help but snicker to himself, he fucking owns it but it’s not like anyone knows that. It’s not like someone knows that he fucking had this building constructed for one purpose only, a deeply selfish purpose. He drives to the front, gets out and hands the keys to the scrawny looking valet boy, who’s clearly wearing a uniform that’s too wide for his narrow shoulders. He should get that fixed too.
He strides into the building, back straight and scowl firmly in place. He does everything in his power to look as uninviting as possible. He doesn’t need some pathetic excuse for a human to try and strike up conversation with him right now. When he reaches the elevator he scans his key card and presses the distinguishable button with a soft golden “P” on it. The penthouse is on the 50th floor, so while he waits in the elevator for the 8 minute or so that it takes he checks himself in the mirrored walls.
He looks pretty haggard with dark circles as dark as the night, hair still damp and tussled from the rain and same goes for his suit. He shrugs at himself but he doesn’t really know why. He shouldn’t give a fuck about what he looks like but there’s this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach yearning for the recognition from someone. He dismisses it immediately and the ping of the elevator is a brilliant distraction from his thoughts.
He walks out and into the lavish entrance of the penthouse. He wishes it would still overwhelm him like it did the first time he saw it. But he’s grown bored with extravagance and overabundance, when you have everything how can you possibly be impressed? Yoongi rids himself of his dress shoes and his suit jacket as well as opens the first two buttons of his shirt. He finally feels like he can breathe a bit more.
Walking further into the apartment he spots tell-tale signs of life, which tells him exactly what he needs to know. He already arrived. And so Yoongi already knows where he can find him just like he knows every single time he comes. As he moves lazily towards the open dining room he strips himself of his belt and throws it leisurely at the floor, easier access and all that.
Yoongi will probably never grow tired of the sight that greets him; silky black hair, honeyed golden skin and soft curves contrasting against the sharp edges of the cold mahogany table. The beautiful male who’s draped out so beautifully on the dining table is resting his head on his crossed arms, eyes closed just like Yoongi wants him. He’s always obedient, always perfect. He can just make out the width of the pink leather collar that’s unmistakeably tightly locked around his neck.
He slowly walks closer to the stunning male. Yoongi knows that he knows he’s there by now, he probably heard him come out of the elevator. He gently places his hand on the black haired male’s shoulder and drags it down his body as he walks to the end of the table. He has his palm placed carefully on top of his left butt cheek when he stops.
“Hello Jimin” Yoongi greets him, voice raspy from not being used for a while. Jimin doesn’t acknowledge him, he knows better than that.
Yoongi removes his hand from the younger male’s cheek only to slap it a few seconds later. It’s not hard, nowhere near what he knows Jimin prefers but who can judge him for wanting to drag it out? Who wouldn’t want to cherish such a perfect being like the boy spread out in front of him?
The slap earns him the tiniest wince and he revels in the action. He loves how as much as Jimin tries to fight his reactions at first he always gives in, always responds so fully to his hands, his touches, his cock. He couldn’t ask for anyone as perfect or as good as Jimin and he wouldn’t want to. As he thinks to himself he strikes Jimin’s slightly pink cheek again. This time the wince is more noticeable.
“Look at you Jimin. I wish you could see yourself, so pliant, so beautiful underneath my touch. I see you trying to hold back but you never can, can you? You’re practically begging for my touch” Yoongi muses, mostly to himself but he knows Jimin’s soaking in every single word.
He removes his hand again, this time in favour of fishing out a little something from his pocket. He takes out the small vial and opens it. He rests his left hand on Jimin’s lower back to steady himself a bit as he empties most of the vial’s content on the now slightly reddening flesh of Jimin’s ass. Not caring about the rest he carelessly throws the vial away and reaches into his pocket again, this time conjuring one of his many credit cards. He scrapes it softly against Jimin, fixing the white powder splayed on golden skin. He works at it until he has a somewhat perfectly straight line.
“Lay still for me” Yoongi warns quickly before leaning down. He places a finger against his right nostril as he breathes in along the white line. It stings a bit but it’s nothing new. He can’t help but to let out a deep sigh as he stands straight again. He closes his eyes and waits for a bit as white pleasure spreads through his veins, it takes about a minute before he can feel it cloud his mind. A blinding pleasure forcing him to let go, to relax.
“Sorry for making you wait babe. Now we can get to the fun” Yoongi grins. He feels the euphoria spreading like the poison it is through him. He moves again, this time standing at the end of the table by Jimin’s feet. He taps the sole of his right foot twice and Jimin immediately moves. He ends up sitting on the edge of the table facing Yoongi, legs dangling gently in the air.
Yoongi moves in closer, slotting himself between Jimin’s spread legs. He lifts a hand and hooks a finger in the D-ring of the collar around his neck. He pulls Jimin even closer before leaning in and placing a soft kiss. It’s quick, sweet and it speaks of something Yoongi would never dare to mention out loud. Jimin slowly melts under his touch as he leans in again this time capturing his lips in a bruising kiss; desperate and dirty. He lets go of the collar and lets his arms wrap around the black haired male’s waist instead.
When Yoongi breaks the kiss it’s in favour of placing kisses down the younger’s neck until he’s right at the junction between his neck and shoulder. He bites him harshly but not enough to draw blood. Jimin gasps underneath him, hands surging to grip at his back. He licks the bruising flesh as slight consolation although he knows it won’t make a difference. He keeps switching between placing kisses and soft licks on Jimin’s soft skin. Yoongi lets his right hand wander from the boy’s waist to his nipple, caressing it in circular motions. Jimin moans and it’s like music to his hears, like the prettiest symphony of sounds he ever heard.
He leans back up, places another quick kiss to the other male’s lips before pushing at his chest so that he gets the idea. Jimin leans back down against the mahogany, mischievous smile spreading on his lips. Yoongi takes another moment to appreciate his appearance. He focuses on that pink collar again, big bold silver letters spelling out his favourite pet name for Jimin.
“Hmm, so Jimin… Are you going to be a good slut for me today? Will you do whatever I tell you to?” Yoongi asks, smirk firmly in place. He can clearly see the blush spreading on the boy’s face and he feels the arousal spike in his stomach. There’s no one quite like his little slut.
“Yes” Jimin responds, defiance clear in the deep brown of is eyes. Yoongi’s more than pleased that Jimin isn’t going to play along today.
“Yes what?” Yoongi pushes.
“Yes Sir” Jimin shoots back mockingly. Yoongi doesn’t know how the fuck he does it but he always knows exactly how and when to rile him up like this. He feels his smirk widen.
“I don’t think you understand the situation here. You’re far below me slut, I can do whatever I want to you and what can you do? Nothing. I would watch my fucking mouth if I was you, especially one as dirty as yours” he threatens as he lets his right hand slide from Jimin’s chest up to his throat. It’s barely touching the skin but it’s a cruel reminder.
“So are you going to teach me a lesson or what… Sir” Jimin spits back and that does it for Yoongi. With the rush of the cocaine surging inside of him and the delectable defiance of Jimin he feels the perfect amount of in control yet out of control. He tightens his hand around the younger’s throat and he can see the pleasure bloom in his eyes. He can see how fucking much his slut enjoys this.
He feels Jimin small hand grab his wrist. It’s not to stop him but to encourage him and Yoongi lets out a laugh of disbelief, just as he thought this kid couldn’t get any better. He presses at Jimin’s throat more and he gasps for air underneath the tight grip of his hand. Yoongi makes sure to keep eye contact with the younger throughout the entire session and when he sees the slightest flicker in Jimin’s eyes he finally releases his throat.
Jimin’s gasping heavily for air but Yoongi doesn’t wait for him to calm down. He slides his hand down his chest to his aching erection. He knows Jimin’s desperate when he gets choked, he knows it gets him hard and weeping. He starts out letting a single finger run over the length of his cock, teasing the head a bit more than the rest to which Jimin lets out a wrecked moan. He takes the erection into his hand fully, stroking the beautiful boy until he’s a mess.
With his other hand Yoongi makes sure to caress Jimin’s sensitive nipples until the boy is doing his best to hold back the moans being ripped from his body. He wishes he could have the pleasure of meeting Jimin like this every day but with his job he doesn’t exactly have much extra time on hand. Every time he gets to unravel the boy he finds himself placated, calm but completely consumed. It’s a godly feeling.
“You’re so pretty for me. Desperate for my touch, I bet you want me to fuck you so hard you can’t even remember your own fucking name. Isn’t that right slut?” Yoongi muses. Jimin just sobs a low yes as Yoongi keeps jerking him off but never quite fast enough.
“What was that?” he mocks, the power from having control over another person so wholesomely is intoxicating and Yoongi is fucking thriving on it.
“Y-yes” Jimin sobs out louder this time. Yoongi can see the tears collecting in the corners of his closed eyes and it sparks something deep inside him, something completely uncontrollable. It’s like a need to claim, to own. He lets go of Jimin’s cock and grabs his hips instead.
“I need you to turn over for me like a good fucking boy” he orders and Jimin complies as quickly as he can. He sits up again, pushes Yoongi’s hand off of him in favour of jumping down from the table. He turns around and leans over it, legs spread open for easy access.
Yoongi wants to moan at the sight of Jimin presenting himself so delicately in front of his eyes but he refrains. He can see the slightly glistening hole, a sign that Jimin has definitely prepared himself thoroughly for him. His dick twitches at thought alone. He wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside the heat of the younger and he plans on doing exactly that.
“Fuck babe. I bet you thought of me fucking you over this very table when you fingered your tight little hole open for me. I bet you came so hard you cried out my name while you had three fingers shoved into yourself desperately wishing it was me” Yoongi groans as he works on opening his slacks. He makes as quick work of them as he can, not bothering to remove any garments completely. Instead just pulls his cock out and shoves the clothes down a bit so they’re not in the way.
He’s leaking precome from the tip and as much as he wants to just fuck the boy already he has a punishment to finish. So in favour of doing that he lets a hand impact on the right cheek of Jimin’s fat ass, earning him a loud moan. He’s sure the black haired male hadn’t been prepared for that.
“You know better than to disobey me slut. I thought we already established that I will not go easy on you if you don’t follow our rules” Yoongi lectures as he lets his hand fall another time, the sharp sound of the hit vibrating through the room followed by Jimin’s loud sobbing. Although Yoongi likes inflicting pain on him he isn’t cruel, so when he changes to the left cheek it’s a much appreciated welcome on Jimin’s behalf.
“What. Do. You. Call. Me?” he asks harshly between slaps. Jimin’s sobbing with each hit, a sound mixture of pain and pleasure.
“S-Sir” he cries out.
“I-I call y-you Sir” sobs wrecks through his body as he replies again.
Since Yoongi is pleased with the answer he gently caresses the red, abused cheeks and thinks to himself that he has to remember taking care of the afterwards. But for now he leans close to Jimin, hooking a finger in the back of the collar to pull him a bit closer.
“Good boy” he whispers before letting go and leaning back. He figures it’s about time he gives the boy what he needs and what he, himself, needs for that matter.
Even though he knows Jimin’s prepared himself, he slips in a finger to test how loose he is. He slips in two more fingers quickly and easily enough. He hooks them inside of the younger and he moans when Yoongi hits that glorious bundle of nerves after a little while. He figures he doesn’t really need more prep after all and removes his fingers. Jimin whines a little at the loss.
Instead Yoongi grabs the tiny bottle of lube on the floor, where it always is when they meet like this. He squeezes a decent amount out directly on his hard dick before giving it a few strokes to spread it properly. When he’s finally prepared he takes his cock and lines himself up against Jimin’s greedy hole. He eases in slowly, much to Jimin’s displeasure but he doesn’t want to tear him accidentally and he’ll have plenty of time to be rough after he’s sure they’re good to go.
When he’s buried to the hilt inside the delicious tight heat he pauses for a few seconds but Jimin isn’t having his impatient bullshit anymore. He rocks back against Yoongi’s cock and this time it’s Yoongi who can’t help but moan. He gets the idea.
He starts fucking into Jimin earnestly, he sets a decent pace but wants to warm up to fuck him like he’s ever felt it before. He wraps his left arm around Jimin’s mid-section to steady himself better but also to fuck into him even deeper. Jimin’s moans gradually starts filling up the room as Yoongi almost steals them from him.
“How does it feel being fucked like this, like the fucking slut you are?” Yoongi asks as he thrusts into Jimin’s hole extra hard.
“How does it feel to be humiliated, degraded but needing it? How does it feel to be so fucking desperate for someone to call you a slut and tell you how fucking horrible you are?” He goes on and Jimin’s pleasurable sobs only get louder with each thrust and each question.
Yoongi grabs the back of Jimin’s collar again, forcing him to arch his back while he fucks him brutally. The sounds of skin against skin bouncing loudly off the walls while Jimin moans, tears streaming down his face.
“I- I need it… N-need, fuck” Jimin sobs completely gone on the pleasure pulling at every nerve in his body.
“What do you need?... Huh? What do you need slut?” Yoongi mocks, grip still firm on the pink collar.
“C-come… Need to” Jimin cries. He knows he’s going to come soon, he can feel the burning in the pit of his stomach but he can’t, he can’t unless Yoongi tells him too.
“Do you need to come?” Yoongi continues to mock him as he fucks him as thoroughly as he ever has. Jimin just nods as well as he can with Yoongi grasping him by the collar.
“Then come for me, show me what a good slut you are” he whispers.
Jimin can’t control it. After receiving permission, he comes harder than he ever has, shooting his load unto the table underneath him as the orgasm ripples through his muscles and tears stain his cheeks. Yoongi can’t help but to follow suit as Jimin’s ass clenches so wonderfully around his cock. He comes deep inside of the younger boy with a groan.
They both kind of collapse on top of the table after their consuming orgasms, breathing heavily against each other. Yoongi is the first one who gets up, much like he always he is. He makes his way to the nearest bathroom and after cleaning himself up as quickly as he can, not really bothering to be thorough, he come back into the dining room. He’s brought a few damp towels with him. He puts them in between his teeth quickly, he needs both hands to manoeuvre Jimin, who is undoubtedly feeling very spent.
He lifts him onto the table so he sits with his legs dangling off the edge, much like he did earlier. Then he grabs the towels and starts wiping him down. He knows there’s probably leaking cum out of the boy onto the table but he doesn’t care, he’ll clean it later. After cleaning the silent boy to the best extend he can, he goes to grab some water and a few crackers. He forces Jimin to drink and eat something while he strokes his soft black locks. Something stings a bit inside of him.
It takes about an hour of Yoongi caring for him until Jimin returns to a more conscious state. Yoongi isn’t prepared for what happens next although he should be. It happens every time.
“You know I can’t stay Yoongi. You don’t even need to ask I can see it in your eyes” Jimin mutters solemnly as he looks into the ground. Yoongi’s still stroking his hair but quickly removes his hand.
“It’s bullshit, it’s fucking bullshit Jimin” Yoongi shoots back desperately. He needs him, he just needs him to stay, to be here. They’d be so good.
“You know I can’t. He’ll kill me if he finds out” Jimin presses on, this time he looks up into Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi can see the sincere worry painting his face.
“I can protect you… You know I can” Yoongi tries desperately but he knows it’s to no avail. He’ll never stay.
“He’ll kill me” Jimin just says again. He gets off the table and leaves the room. Yoongi’s frozen in his spot, he knows Jimin is coming back. He’s probably just getting dressed but he won’t stay for long. He wishes so deeply that he’d stay.
When Jimin does return to the dining room after a few minutes he’s, as expected, fully dressed. He looks beautiful in a crisp black suit, with a hint of bruising already starting to form around his neck, only slightly visible above the collar of his dress shirt. Yoongi can feel the desperation pull at his heart, he needs to do something, he has to make him stay. He needs him to fucking stay.
“Jimi- “ he starts but the younger male cuts him off.
“Yoongi… We talk about this every time. I have to go, okay? I’ll come back, I always come back but I can’t stay” Jimin pleads.
Yoongi knows he’s right but he wishes it wasn’t true. He wishes they could just be together that he could just say how fucking much he loves him. He knows Jimin knows how much he actually loves him but he still dreams that it would change things between them. But what can change? What can change when Jimin is the brother to the head of the rival family he’s been slaughtering the past year? What can change when Jimin’s brother is deadest on murdering him if he ever gets the chance? What can change when Jimin can’t choose between family and love?