Chapter Text
Yoongi was lonely.
Sure, he had fame and money he doesn't know what to do with, but all everyone ever wanted from him was either the popularity by association or the money itself. Besides, his reputation preceded him: Min Yoongi, aka Agust D, savage rapper who spits fire faster than anyone can say 'fuck you,' was tough and surely needed no one, needed just a hole to fill when he gets horny.
What no one knows is that he was indeed lonely and that he needed his hole filled. But when you're as popular as he is, no one cared about the real you. No one ever really cared except a few close friends. Maybe his manager, Seokjin. But even that relationship was fake. It was his job to take care of Yoongi.
So, one tipsy night after a particularly exhausting show, he decided to finally get a sex toy, a dildo to fill him up.
Yoongi peered at the screen of his phone, cat eyes narrowed, device on one hand, half empty wine glass on the other as he read the product description.
"The Enchanteur. The Enchanteur is the most versatile dildo there is. The first ever heat-powered sex toy, the Enchanteur is intuitive and highly adaptable, making it perfect for solo play and for use between partners. Hmm," Yoongi read. "That's not a very helpful description."
Scrolling through the ratings, though, helped Yoongi make up his mind.
"The best sex toy ever! Feels so much like the real thing!"
"Perfect for both going at it alone and using it with a partner. Like what everyone else said, it feels like a real dick. Would recommend it 1001%!"
"All ratings are 5 out of 5... Oh well. I guess it's worth a try," he mused, clicking on Add to Cart , then Proceed to Check Out. He downed the last of his wine before filling up the details and the payment scheme. Then, after confirming his order, clambered to his bed with a satisfied look on his face.
✧. ⋆ ⊹
Yoongi almost forgot about the dildo until two days later, when Seokjin asked him what that thing he purchased using the company credit card was.
"Well," he began, his cheeks coloring, "Just a little something for myself."
Seokjin looked at him thoughtfully. "Why didn't you use your own card, then?"
"I was a bit tipsy that night. It must have slipped my mind. I'm sorry, manager. I'll pay back what I owe," he said sheepishly.
Just then, Namjoon, one of the other artists from his record label, came inside the room. "Hey hyung. You have a package," he said as he sifted through the mail. He held out his arm, waving the box on Seokjin's face, causing the latter to take it from him. Yoongi lunged for the package.
"Whoa, easy, Yoongi," Seokjin chuckled. "That's what you ordered? Can I see?"
Yoongi, red in the face, exclaimed a no before dashing to his studio, leaving Seokjin and Namjoon confused.
Once in his studio, Genius Lab as he called it, Yoongi tore the package open in haste, blood still rushing to his face at the foggy memory of purchasing the sex toy.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself, hitting his temples with the heel of his left hand. The toy sat on his lap, the glittering letters of the label glimmering in the dark, catching light from Yoongi's LCD monitor. "What if it reflects on the bill that I bought a sex toy?" he asked, panic in his voice.
He looked at the touly, still in its box, and bit his lip. Regardless of what he bought, surely Seokjin will keep it a secret? He trusted the man. He was, after all, his manager.
With a sigh, the rapper gingerly picked up the box and read the instructions. "Each Enchanteur dildo is ready to use upon unpacking. Before usage, make sure to prep yourself or your partner for penetration. For best results, treat your Enchanteur dildo as if it were the real thing: stroke it or put it in your mouth before using it for penetrative sex."
Yoongi shrugged. "That's a bit weird. Well, since we're here, magic dildo, let's see what you got."
Yoongi padded across the studio to make sure the door was locked before stripping of his pants and his underwear, taking the packet of lube on his wallet with him to his chair. It has been a while since he last played with himself this way, so Yoongi had to prepare himself well.
He sat on his his swivel chair, his shoulders leaning against the backrest, his ass perched almost at the edge, and spread his legs wide, planting his feet on his table. His cock was half hard, as he was excited by the idea of getting filled once again. Yoongi stroked himself. He leisurely dragged his hand up and down his length, savoring the feeling. As he did this, he licked the tip of the dildo. Small kitten licks, the kind of licking he does when he teased his partners before. He swirled his tongue all over the tip, slowly drawing circular patterns on the artificial cock. He was fully erect now, and lust, the desire to be pleasured, clouded his brain. He pushed the dildo halfway into his mouth, his tongue playing with the toy, and opened the packet of lube. Squeezing a small amount onto his index finger, he proceeded to prepare himself. He pushed his finger inside him at the same time he took the dildo fully, pushing it in to the hilt, reveling in its warmth against his tongue.
Yoongi hummed, his mouth still enveloping the velvety toy. 'The reviews were right, they feel like the real thing,' he thought.
He kept it in his mouth as he spread more lube on his fingers.
2 fingers. 2 fingers stretching his hole deliciously. "Fuck," he cursed, dildo on hand. Truth be told, he was getting impatient. He wanted—needed—to be wrecked by the plastic cock. Yoongi sucked the toy one last time before spreading lube on it, eager to feel it inside him.
Biting his lip, he aligned the dildo to his entrance, and with one push, fucked himself with it.
"Fuuuuuck," he cursed once more, feeling the sex toy stretch him well. His own cock lay turgid, painfully erect, and throbbing against the flat expanse of his stomach. Yoongi played with the head of his cock a little as he let himself adjust to the thick dildo. Then he moved.
He pushed and pulled the toy languidly, enjoying how it dragged through his tight walls. It felt so good to have a cock inside him again, even if it were just made of plastic. He fucked himself at a torturous pace as he pumped his cock with his other hand. What he would give to have a fleshlight with him right about now. But he didn't. His hand would have to do for now.
Yoongi concentrated on fucking himself, increasing the speed as he became more and more desperate for release every time he buried the dildo inside him to the hilt. His panting and moaning filled the room, along with the squishy wet sounds of the lubed up toy cock pounding into him.
"Ah," he whined desperately as he shoved the thick sex toy into him hard, as he pleasured his own cock using long, twisting strokes from the base up. He was close. Oh so close. He shut his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of a cock pounding mercilessly into him, on his hand stroking him.
He fucked himself faster, harder. Until he came, sinful groans escaping his lips, his hot release painting the dark leather of his swivel chair and his black shirt. He came, legs shaking violently from ecstasy.
Yoongi laid spent on his chair, legs still spread wide. He unsheathed the toy and held onto it as he closed his eyes, willing his erratic heartbeat to calm down. That was the best orgasm of his life. Yet.
✧. ⋆ ⊹
Seokjin sat bolt upright when he felt something wet touch the head of his penis. "What the hell?"
"What was that, Manager?" Namjoon asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"I just—nothing, Joon. I'm sorry. You were saying?" he answered.
'I could have sworn it felt like someone was teasing my cock,' he thought. He tried to concentrate on what Namjoon and his manager Hoseok were saying, but a few seconds later, he felt it again. It was like someone was licking his cock.
He felt blood rush to his nether region, his cock hardening. He felt his face get red too. His pants were a bit tight and he was, after all, gifted down there. It would be hard to miss an erection as massive as his.
Try as he may, though, he could not keep himself from writhing a bit uncomfortably in his chair. 'Good thing we're at the conference room,' he thought to himself, thankful of the table that hid his predicament.
But the worst was far from over.
Seokjin inhaled sharply when he felt a wet warmth envelop his cock halfway. Whatever phantom mouth was giving him a blowjob was now swirling its tongue around the part of his cock that was inside it.
"Holy fuck!" Seokjin exclaimed when he felt the phantom mouth take him whole. He felt a low vibration, as if the phantom mouth was humming appreciatively at his throbbing girthy length.
"Manager Jin?"
Manager Hoseok looked at him with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Yes!" Jin answered back in a squeaky voice almost too fast. "Yes, I am fine. I'm okay. E—Excuse me. I J-just need to go to the toilet," he said before standing up, hands flying to his crotch to cover it before the other rapper and his manager see his erection.
Jin walked as fast as he can to the nearest toilet, at times inadvertently clinging to the walls and doubling over from the pleasure this phantom mouth was making him feel.
When the manager finally reached the toilet and locked himself in a cubicle, he hurriedly unzipped his trousers and pulled them down to his knees. Just in time to feel the phantom mouth change into something tighter. Was it a pussy?
'Fuck, no pussy is as tight as this,' he thought. 'This is an ass.'
A perfectly lubricated and tight ass.
Seokjin tried stroking his cock, but the phantom ass felt better. So he stood inside the cubicle, one hand on the wall, the other between his teeth. The phantom ass was fucking him mercilessly, impaling itself on his thick length slowly at first, then harder and faster. Harder and faster until Seokjin was at the brink of tears inside the cubicle. He didn't fucking understand what was going on, but it felt so damn good.
It was relentless, whoever was fucking him. It felt so good, so goddamned wet and tight. He felt every delicious drag of his cock against the soaked walls of the phantom ass as his cock pounded in and out of it. He was close, so fucking close.
Seokjin tilted his head up. Ready for his release.
But the phantom ass stopped moving. It just squeezed his entire length. He looked at his erection, feeling a bit disappointed. Then the phantom ass unsheathed him, leaving him wanting for more.
"What the fuck," Seokjin cursed under his breath. He huffed in annoyance. "So you use my cock for your pleasure and not let me cum?" he said to his erection. "Fine. I'll make myself cum then."
Seokjin stroked his length, the lubricant used by the phantom ass still clinging to him. Seokjin didn't question it. At this point, all he wanted was his release. He stroked himself, running his palm up and down his thickness, mimicking the phantom ass' pace.
"Shit," he groaned, feeling his impending release. He pumped his cock faster, faster, faster, until the pent up pleasure looming over him like a tidal wave came crashing down on him. He came violently, covering the toilet and his trousers with his cum.
It took a few minutes for Seokjin to gather his wits and clean the cubicle and his clothes, but he eventually stepped out of the confined space. He walked towards the sink to wash his face which was beaded with sweat.
"What the hell was that?" he asked his reflection in the mirror.