kimnjssrecs

[kimnjssrecs]

sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games

dhfshsfdhh

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: slight allusions to violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, mentions of corruption + masturbation & somnophilia, possessiveness, dry humping, some soft dirty talk + praise

¶

Jungkook craned his neck, his eyes stuck on the screen in front of him. It wouldn't be fair to say that losing the game was entirely your fault; but that was how he saw it anyway. How was he supposed to focus with you sitting on his lap?

It didn't even cross his mind that perhaps you shouldn't have been sitting there in the first place. Jungkook has always been too weak to resist temptation, and even weaker when it came to denying you anything you wanted.

He might have been younger than you, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with cleverness. He taught you that you could always rely on him, crawl into his bed after a nightmare and cuddle up to him after a bad day. As long as no one was around to see.

"The hell?" Namjoon grumbled into the mic. "What is wrong with you today?"

Yoongi chuckled. "Think you should sit the next round out, Kook."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his hand settling down on your hip.

"Stop moving," he muttered into your ear.

You tightened your arms around his neck.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable," you whispered.

Comfortable. Jungkook didn't know what that word meant at the moment, because he was so hard he could barely sit still himself. He released a deep breath and fixed his mic, his cheeks getting warmer as you snuggled into him.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"Uh-huh," Namjoon scoffed. "Who you with?"

Jungkook could practically hear him grin. The little devil on his shoulder whispered into his ear, urging him to wipe the amusement right off of his friend's face and answer as honestly as he could.

My sister.

The thought alone made his heart pound faster. He knew his friends thought you were pretty; obviously, they had eyes. But he doubted that speaking his mind would have been a great idea, no matter how much he wanted to claim you as his.

Before he could say anything, Yoongi sighed.

"As if, Joon. Come on, let's get started already. Kook, no offense but I really think you should sit this one out-"

Jungkook didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence, because you shifted in his lap again, and this time you brushed up right against the bulge in his sweats. His fingers softened around the controller in surprise. He could feel his cock throb as you gasped, lifting your head to look up at him.

"O-oh," you stuttered out, a crease between your brows, like you didn't understand what just happened.

"No, seriously, I told you he's with someone, dude," Namjoon started, but Jungkook was already exiting out of the game and taking off his mic.

You looked like you had no idea what effect you had on him. Like you couldn't see how starved he was for your love. For some reason the innocence you exhuded made his swollen cock twitch.

Instead of giving out to you, he simply moved his eyes back to the screen and mindlessly searched for a game he could play on his own as a distraction. A distraction for you, of course.

He cleared his throat and remained still, as if he didn't want to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless. As if he hasn't wanted to do that for years. He could feel you begin to relax in his arms again, and he prayed to whatever deity out there existed that he would have the patience to get through this.

A sigh escaped you as you tried to move your hips again. You did so discreetly, as though you didn't want him to notice, chasing the butterflies; just like you did when you were younger. But now there was no nets and clear, blue skies. Only the darkness of Jungkook's room and your own mind, combined with the fluttering in your stomach.

He has waited so long, blurring the lines so slowly... So, technically, he should have been able to wait a little longer. And he could, but he had to do something. He needed something; anything.

He placed his hand on your hip again, gently guiding you to sit right on top of his clothed cock. He didn't dare take his eyes off his game, but all he was focused on was the feeling of your warmth and not making a sound. You were like a little animal finally entering the hunter's trap; one wrong move and all could go to hell.

"Feel comfortable yet?" He whispered. "Feel good?"

You nodded into his neck, your breathing growing heavier against him. He wondered if you were getting wet. You must have been, right? He wondered what you'd do if he kissed you until your lips were swollen. All his muscles tensed up as he continued waiting, holding back the urge to thrust up against you.

And the patience paid off. Carefully, testing the waters, he could feel you drag your hips back along the curve of his cock. His head hit the back of the couch, the controller slipping out of his grip. With the same, cautious roll forward you almost whimpered into his neck.

Jungkook groaned quietly, sliding his hand down onto your ass. Even though the move itself was bold, his touch was gentle, his eyes falling shut.

"Feels good," he breathed. "Don't stop."

You let out the tiniest moan into his skin, and it was the hottest sound he's ever heard. As much as he always wanted you to be each other firsts, he knew that wasn't possible if he didn't want to scare you off. He had to settle for whatever he could get his hands on; countless pairs of your underwear went missing throughout the years, but you never noticed, because Jungkook always made sure to get you plenty of new, nice things. When that wasn't enough anymore, he learned to stay quiet as he grinded against you while you slept, a pair of your panties wrapped around his cock to catch his hot seed when he came. You didn't seem to notice when the boys you liked started avoiding you either - or when they mysteriously disappeared.

And now here you were, fulfilling every wet dream he's ever had and humping him to your heart's content. You followed his commands and rubbed your little clit against him like he was your personal toy. Everything about it had him ready to blow his load right into his pants.

He squeezed your ass, arching his back when your hips sped up, his mouth falling open. He groaned.

"Go harder."

He lifted his head up, his cheeks dusted with a blush, eyes hooded as he brushed his nose against yours. You did as he asked, grinding your clothed cunt against his cock in firmer circles, a muffled whine slipping past your teeth as they bit into your lower lip.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he sighed. "You like that?"

"Mhm," you moaned. "But-"

"Shh, shh," Jungkook soothed. "It'll be our little secret, yeah? No one has to know."

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck, but Jungkook was having none of that. He was getting so fucking close, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to see your eyes starting right back at him for the first time when he came.

"Look at me," he demanded. "I want those pretty eyes on me."

You moaned, your hips rutting against his quicker, and Jungkook groaned lowly.

"My good girl. Are you wet for me?"

"Ye-yeah," you stuttered.

His dick twitched, his stomach twisting and turning with pleasure.

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You gonna make a mess for me?"

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," another groan, more strained than the others. "I'm gonna come. Want me to come?"

Your hips stuttered in their rhythm. Jungkook could swear he could feel a wet spot growing on his sweats, and combined with the desperate, fucked out look on your face it was more than enough to make his balls clench harder than ever before in his life. His fingers dug into your ass, back arching as he released rope after rope of cum right into his briefs beneath your wet cunt. His breathy moans mingled with yours, quickly overshadowed by the filth and confessions spilling out of his mouth. You've heard both before, but never while you were coming on top of him, your clit pulsing against him.

"Fuck, fuck, love you- ah, I love you, I love you-"

You swallowed, stilling in his arms, the weight of your actions settling heavy over your shoulders.

Jungkook, on the other hand, felt completely free and weightless at last. He buried his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

"So good," he mumbled incoherently. "So good. Waited so- so long. Love you so much."

And even though it was hard to find the words, you couldn't lie. Not to yourself and certainly not to him.

"Love you too," you whispered tiredly.

It wasn't that simple. And unlike Jungkook, you didn't think you'd be able to face yourself in the mirror the moment you were out of his arms. But that was okay; no matter how difficult this was for you to accept, Jungkook has mastered the art of waiting. He didn't mind waiting a bit longer. The only difference was that now, whether you realized it or not, he had you right where he wanted you.

"Kook," you murmured. "Need to wash up."

He smiled, rubbing his nose along your collarbone.

"So do I. Now what do we do about that?"

[kimnjssrecs]

so! it’s been a cool minute since i read this series ., so naturally i had to start from the beginning nd make my way to the most recent part nd y’all !! 😳 when i say this fic is a whole ass ride from beginning to end - nd there’s still more parts to come ‼️‼️ yn nd jungkook are literally the cutest nd are so hot together - i jus want them to hurry up nd work their shit out bc i NEED to read them as a couple again 🥲

kudos to taehyung for getting his friend to see that he was being a little bit of an idiot - we all need a friend like that honestly ., nd i love how you didn’t have jk rush to her right after that talk // he needs time to let things marinate nd i love that he got the chance too (we’re gonna call wht he did in that bed working it out LOL)

nah but this was sooo good ! i love the way you write stella for real ., i can jus sit nd go through your masterlist all day (nd that’s exactly what i did) . i can’t wait to see how you wrap this up bc i jus know you’re going to kill ittt ! thank you for writing this 💖💖💖

the art of yearning- pt 1 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 15.7k 

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, taekook heart to heart, a lot of self-directed negative thoughts from nari’s father </3, jaykay being a dumb man 😕, jaykay needing everything spelled out for him 🙄, tae to the rescue <3, hobi for comedic relief bc jfc 😭 the YEARNING, guilty jerk sesh lets goooo, lots of memories n fantasies <3, omg slight hinting at jk’s subby era!!, 1 finish followed by many regrets n thoughts ~~

>>notes: part 1 of 2 <3 this part is the post-fight happenings from jk’s pov! i split it up bc as we can see it’s already quite long 🥲 pls dont be mad at me <3 i hope u guys are able to understand jk’s reasoning n thought process a lil more after this !! 

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: jungkook wants you as much as he misses you.

Keep reading

[kimnjssrecs]

cake -> jjk

summary: in which you bake your best friend a birthday cake that goes to good use along with a spontaneous surprise.

pairing(s): jungkook x female reader

genre: pure smut, bf2l ^.^

rating: 18+

warning tags: mentions of male masturbation, making out, brief food play, motorboating, unprotected sex (don’t even think about trying it irl i’m watching you), cum eating

word count: 2k +

a/n: unedited, apologies for mistakes ^.^ also if i ever miss warning tags feel free to let me know if necessary ~

masterlist

✿——————————✿

The two of had just finished cleaning up in comfortable silence after the small gathering Jungkook just had for his birthday, he’s now in the shower as your baking him his favourite cake. You get done icing it up and clean up the kitchen before you go to check if Jungkook is done so you can hopefully clean up too and share the cake together over a movie. 

You raise a brow when you can hear the water running still, along with the sound of faint whimpers. You’re unsure if you’re hearing things so you move closer and press your ear up to the door. The sound is a lot louder now, and you can hear his staggering breaths. You can’t justify why you quietly open the door just a crack, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Fuck, Y/N”

That was not what you expected at all. You’d always had feelings for Jungkook, but as your best friend and roommate you never stood a chance. That’s what you thought anyway. “Shit, shit.” And he sounds so sexy when he moans.

Never did you think that he thought of you that way, especially not after he brought home different girlfriends and one night stands over the years living together.

You can practically feel yourself drooling, but you find the will to pull yourself away, going to your room to change out of your day clothes and into your pyjamas. You’ll take a shower later. 

Keep reading

[kimnjssrecs]

Jungkook: Dropping Hints 🔞

"Maybe you just cant see it?"

Tags/Warnings: Oh dear lord, Idol!Jungkook, smutshot = adult content, he's got his pp pierced, and his girl in his hotel room, though he only let's the world know one of those things, the piercing of course, protected sex (hormone shot, pls practice safe sex in RL thank you), established/secret relationship, mild manhandling, he smacks her butt like.. Twice, spicy romantic kook, guys this is a smut-shot written by me at this point you should know the drill

A/N: This is @min-yoonified 's fault.

Story Length: Mid

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook is good at controlling what information he let's people around him know.

He's learned from the best after all; Seokjin being a master at making people feel as if they know more about him than he ever really gives away of himself. With the eldest of the group, it's mostly to keep his private life private- but Jungkook can be quite daring, and knows how to talk about things publicly he's not supposed to say.

Though he'd never put you in any danger.

You're his biggest secret to keep, and one of the only things he will probably never share with the public, well aware of the dangers this could pose to you. He's experienced his best friends receiving death threats before, getting stalked and chased by people too delusional to keep their minds connected to reality. He doesn't want to ever have you experience any of that- and to keep you safe, he has to portray the single guy in front of the world's audience- and he's glad you're so understanding of it.

He knows someone like you is rare to find.

You live your life laid low, family aware, but no one else knows of your relationship with him. It's the same on his side- and he plans to keep it that way. You're his, and he doesn't like sharing- especially something he loves as much as you.

"oh?" he leans forward to read a comment a little better, room dark and phone screen bright. "Will I ever get more piercings?" he reads the question out loud, before smirking, leaning back a little on the couch as he looks at the camera cheekily. "what makes you think I haven't already?" he challenges, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you just can't see it?" he hints, making you shake your head in disbelief on the bed across from where he sits, a safe zone out of range of the camera. "let's read some more comments." he laughs to himself, quick to steer the conversation away before staff scolds him again for not behaving properly in front of his fans.

He ends the Livestream a little while after, making sure the camera is off, even going as far as to take the battery out of it just to be safe. "they're already talking about your invisible piercing." you comment, giggling when he crawls over your form on the bed, lips placing a kiss onto your bare upper leg like second nature before he lays down next to you.

"that's fine, let them." he shrugs. "I'll probably get an earful tomorrow from staff." he chuckles, watching you as you stretch your limbs before you cuddle up to him. His hand smacks your butt once just for the fun of it, a sigh escaping him as he closes his eyes briefly.

"you think they'll figure it out? The fans, I mean." you ask, head on his chest as he shrugs again.

"a lot of them have pretty dirty minds. There's bound to be people who'll get it right. They'll never know for sure though." he teasingly comments, and you laugh to yourself, a hand running over his lower abdomen above his shirt, before it travels beneath the fabric.

"I know it though." you say, and his hand starts to make it's way over the length of your bare arm, fingers running over the skin.

"you do." he confirms lowly, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. "you know it pretty well." he chuckles, letting his hand wander from your arm to the hem of your underwear, for now only slipping underneath the side of them, resting there.

"I think it's pretty." you comment, looking at him now. "it suits you." you say, and he smiles down at you before his free hand angles your head right for him to kiss.

Moments like these are why he wants to keep you at his side forever.

It's a give and take in your relationship; no clear hierarchy no matter the situation. You take care of him just as much as he takes care of you- right now, your hands helping him out of his shirt, his arms willingly raising upwards to make it easier for you. Positioning yourself to sit on his core, you can feel just from a few gentle movements of your hips that he's already rising in his sweats. "hm, I love you." he hums out before he dives back in to kiss you.

He loves making out with you just as much as sex- simply because it's intimate. It makes him feel weightless, like no one's thinking of him but you, like no one's expecting anything from him.

"you've got rehearsal tomorrow morning." you remind him as you break apart for a second, his lips chasing yours stubbornly, eyes of his still closed as his hands run up your sides to rest over your ribs.

"Perfect time to unwind and relax then before we go to sleep." he responds, now a bit more eager to get the sports bra off of you as he pulls it over your head, instantly running his hands over your chest.

"baby you need sleep." you try again, and he smacks your butt yet again, suddenly flipping you over, towering over you from above before he slips your panties off your legs.

"I sleep best when I'm exhausted." he argues, loosing the rest of his clothes as well now before he angles your legs right. "and I'm not not exhausted yet." he smirks, silver balls of the piercing decorating the very head of his cock reflecting the moving lights of the moodlight he'd brought along. It does suit him.

The unfamiliarity of it has long disappeared, by now a very welcomed sensation whenever he runs it over your clit, or when it's inside you. He's definitely done his research; knows how to use it, what positions are best, and what to avoid. And while he loves to have you like this, spread out on the mattress below, hair fanning out underneath your head as his hands grip your upper thighs to keep you steady as he pushes himself into you, tonight he's craving to have you closer.

Maybe it's the fact that he doesn't get to see you during the day whenever he's out for concerts- but he needs to hold you.

So he maneuvers you a little around, helps you sit over his thighs, before you reach between your bodies to lead his aching length back inside you. His arms instantly wrap around you, helping you by pushing your lower back gently into him, eyes unable to look away from you. "I'm so fucking lucky." he chuckles out randomly, before he steals your breath quite literally; feeling the way you clench around him already as he kisses you. "good?" he wonders, and you nod almost frantically- and he knows you all too well. "you're gonna cum?" he teases breathlessly, as you suddenly cling onto him, his own pace now picking up as he chases his own high alongside yours.

And even after, he still holds you close.

After a moment of catching his breath, he laughs into your neck, kissing the skin a little, body now definitely spent. "you know.. I just had to think of how many people must've had sex in this bed before us." he admits, and you cringe, slapping his shoulder dramatically.

"kook no, ew." you whine, making him laugh as he helps you both to the edge of the bed, standing up with you still in his hold as if he's got something to prove. "lemme walk." you complain, though he just continues his way into the bathroom where he finally let's you down to go and do your business, while he turns on the shower.

And later, when you've both settled to finally go to sleep, he takes a moment to just look at you for a bit, before he closes his eyes as well, legs tangled and arms wrapped around each other.

You're definitely his most previous secret to keep.

Forever.

[kimnjssrecs]

OHMYGOD. i was just STRESSED ‼️‼️ through all of this bc i had no idea what yoongi would do next??? as soon as he got back into the office i was like - don’t start making any plans you gotta go to dinner 😐 poor yn just wants to eat with her husband !! nd her husband needs to tAKE A BREAK LMAO . i really loved this thooo it was such a good read nd the smut at the end??? i was still stressed but down bad 😮‍💨 mean yoongi hits different ! instantly forgave him for the scenes before bc 🥵🥵🥵 ! nd you did such a great job w settting up the whole godfather/mafia vibe - i really could picture it yk?? 10/10 💖💖

family man | myg

➙ SUMMARY | Min Yoongi is a family man, there’s no doubt about it. But which family is the question: his crime ring, looking up to their Don? Or you, his wife and kids?

➙ PAIRING | Don!Yoongi x reader

➙ GENRE | The Godfather!AU, 1970s!AU, mafia!AU, angst, smut

➙ RATE | 18+

➙ WC | 6.8k

➙ VOCAB INDEX | these are terms used in old-school New York / within The Godfather in association with the Italian mafia that aren’t as common presently, which I employ in the fic.

Caporegime: a high ranking member of a crime family, usually directly under an Underboss or Don

Cold Coffee: bad luck

Consigliere: an advisor to a crime boss

Don: The head of a crime family

Family: the regular kind, but can also mean a crime ring

Sleeping with the fishes: dead

➙ A/N | PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THIS! this has darker themes than any of my previous fics babes , make sure you're comfortable before you dive in.

— WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT —

➙ WARNINGS | violence, m*rder, mentions of blood, mentions of a drive-by, explicit gory scenes, mentions of disembodiment, some gory imagery, guns, shooting, descriptions of fear, immorality, misogyny, gender roles, weapons, toxic relationship / marriage dynamics, manipulation, intimidation, fear, gaslighting, he makes her cry, scare tactics, smoking a cigarette, gun play, ring play, face grabbing, manhandling, rough sex, fingering, hickies, slight dumbification, degradation, humiliation, taunting, use of ‘bitch’ & ‘whore’, daddy kink, threat of penetration with a foreign object, primal references, breeding kink

“IT’S THE NEXT big thing, Don Min. You invest now, and you’ll be reaping millions, just by the end of the month. Trust in the casino business, it’s the most reliable investment—besides brothels of course—” the man paused to titter at his joke, expecting to lighten the Don’s mood. But Yoongi’s face remained stoic as ever, piercing eyes and a head tilt his signature, “your grandchildren’s grandchildren will be set, I’ll tell ya.” 

There was a lull, silence meeting the man’s words. His excited proposition fell onto intimidating ears. Yoongi contemplated the man’s words with a hard-to-read expression. He was infamous for his poker face—the don’s steady demeanor, rarely fazed, was his signature. 

“It seems prosperable.” Yoongi said finally. The man before him physically relaxed, his tense shoulders loosening their iron grip. “What did I do to earn such a thoughtful gesture, Noto?” 

Noto laughed. “Is that a question? You’re my Don, of course. My first thought was to humbly ask for your support in this business endeavor.” He bowed his head, “I am grateful that you find value in my proposal.” 

Yoongi nods, a humorless puff of air leaving his mouth with a polite smile. He picked up the small glass of wine in front of him. “You’re right—and as your Don, I highly appreciate your respect. You know it carries weight with me.” He took a modest sip, slowly. He put his glass down, leaning back in his chair. “So forgive me if I’m a little confused as to why you already have a deal with Don Choi.” 

Noto was visibly frazzled at the confrontation. It was clear he didn’t think Don Min had any knowledge of his disloyalty—going behind his own Don’s back when he was approached by Choi’s people, after serving Don Min so loyally for so many years. Noto only wondered if the Don had any knowledge of the other deal between him and Choi…

The room tensed around Noto, pressure in the air building and pushing against his body. He loosened his necktie, finding oxygen hard to come by. His eyes darted between the caporegimes in the room, hesitantly landing back across the table. “Don Min, forgive me. But you know it’s just business, huh? Come on, you know me.” His intention is friendly, but his undertones panicked. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize your friendship. It was just, ah… bit of smart accounting, that’s all.” 

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “I see.” His hands clasped on the table as he leaned his weight forward. He shrugged. “It’s just business.” Noto nodded, keeping a nervous eye out for the other men in the room. “Of course, Don.” 

“Well, then,” Yoongi stretched his hand out—Noto flinched before he realized the absence of a threat—”count me in.” Yoongi’s expression was polite, with no hint of a smile or inviting gestures, but it was personal in a distinct Yoongi-like manner.

Noto let out a sigh of relief, reaching over vivaciously to shake the Don’s generously offered hand. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this, believe me.” 

Yoongi let the man clasp his ringed finger with both of his hands, shaking his appreciation. He nodded benevolently, patting Noto’s head. “I’m sure I won’t.” 

Noto bowed his head again to the Don, taking his cue to depart. He bid farewell to the other men in the room, nodding his head one by one—to Jung Hoseok’s handsomely stern pout, sat at Min Yoongi’s right hand; to Kim Namjoon’s stone cold expression, the Don’s consigliere; and finally to the youngest associate in the room, Jeon Jungkook. The Don’s newest recruit. Noto knew the boy well, having crossed paths with him at the house and the Don’s office, and never missed a chance to haze him. 

He reached over to Jungkook easily—he was sat closest, to Noto’s right—with the full intention of ruffling his respectable hairstyle into one of disarray. But his hand didn’t touch a hair on Jungkook’s head before the shots left Yoongi’s gun, dropping Noto to the floor. 

The body fell with a thud, chairs screeching against the tile floor as the weight pushed them away. Jungkook’s vest had caught a small splatter of blood, but the boy was quick to retrieve a small solution of laundry detergent from his inner pocket, dabbing at the fabric. 

Yoongi passed the gun to Hoseok, retrieving a handkerchief in return. “Shame. He was useful.” He wiped his hands clean, back to prim and proper, as always. “Traitorous bastard,” Namjoon spat. The blood pooled out of Noto’s body as the men all made to stand up. 

Yoongi didn’t spare a single glance down as he stepped over the body with his shiny leather shoes, shoes crisp to the ground as he carried on. “Find out who his contacts were. The proposition was good—he was onto something. And I’ll be damned if I let Choi get a hold of it first.” 

“Sure,” Hoseok was careful not to get any blood on his new, imported suit as he stepped around the body. “But how eager do you think they’ll be to switch? Surely that greasy Choi’s got ‘em under his protection.” 

Yoongi pushed his slicked hair back. “Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.” 

“Papa!” 

The front door closing shut was followed immediately by two loud screeches and two pairs of small footsteps running to greet him.

“I missed you, papa.” Your daughter’s hands reached up as high as they could go, fingers wiggling to be picked up. His son was crowding his legs, next to his daughter, trying to talk over her. Yoongi scooped her in one fell swoop, but his eyes looked past the kids—and he saw you. 

You were in the kitchen with your apron on—tell-tale signs of the dinner he missed. You were busy with the dishes, but the sound of the door made you look up, spotting your husband for the first time that day. 

He saw the way you dropped your gaze immediately. How you busied yourself, feigning distraction in an effort to fend his eyes off. He could see the pout you wore deepening at his presence, a scowl forming as a result. Aimed at him—your husband who missed dinner. 

“Dad, look what I made,” your son was vying for his attention, eager to show him his paper mache airplane.

Yoongi tore his gaze away, turning his attention back to his children. “Show me how it works, bud…”

Your drawer door slammed shut. “You’re always sorry, Yoongi. I don’t need your sorries.” Your robe moved as you turned around. “I need you to be here.” 

“I know.” His hands landed on your arms, rubbing comfortingly as he tried to catch your angry gaze at the floor, ducking his head. His sleeves were rolled up, his forearms on display, as he pulled you into his embrace, landing a kiss to the top of your head. Your arms stayed crossed, even as your cheek was pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I don’t want to, but sometimes life’s some cold coffee. It’s for the prot—” 

“For the protection of the family. I know.” Yoongi was slightly taken aback by how you finished his sentence; even more so when you continued. “‘For the good of the family, for the protection of the family. I do everything for the family.’ I’ve heard it all, Yoongi.” You pulled away from his embrace, uncrossing your arms only to press your palms into his chest, and away. You retreated to the other side of the room, your back turned to him as you sat on the bed.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when you and Yoongi hardly went a moment without seeing each other, buzzing with longing if you two were separated. Before the kids, and the big house. Before the long work hours and closed doors. Before the secrets, and his rise to the role of Don. Before his father’s death. 

Yoongi was a different person back then, full of ambition and a hunger for honest-to-god, good living. He was on track to become a lawyer, or a senator. Something respectable. As the youngest of the family, this was never supposed to be his role—the head of the family would’ve always gone to his older brother when the previous Don’s time had passed. The plan was for Yoongi to lead an honest life. 

But he was a family man at heart. Showed up for his family when his brother was gunned down; comforted his grieving mother when his father passed of a heart attack. He stepped up, and assumed his responsibility. But along the way, that hunger and passion turned cold, and pivoted towards a more ruthless and unforgivable way of life. 

Though young when he’d been anointed don, he was smart; cunning. He gained respect and gathered power and influence faster than anyone had ever heard of. He was too good at his job, you always feared. And today, it was just dinner—but it’d build up, higher and higher until you were looking up at the man on a pedestal too high for you to touch. You could feel the Yoongi you once knew slipping away through your fingertips. 

“I saw the paper today.” Your voice was heavy after the lull of silence that had settled over the room. “You did it, didn’t you?” 

“You’re going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.” Yoongi sighed. 

“The newsboy, dead on Broad street. They said he got caught in a crossfire, but I know a drive-by when I see one. I heard Hoseok mention Broad street the other day, and—” you took a deep breath to calm your rising chest. “It was you, wasn’t it.” 

“Haven’t I told you not to ask about my work?” Yoongi’s voice had slipped into warning, a sigh on the tip of his tongue. 

But you didn’t stop. “You gave the order, Yoongi. To kill that boy. I don’t care what your excuse was, he saw something, he heard something. You came home … that night , and put our son to sleep with his blood on your hands, I—” a sob chokes you, your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You don’t want the kids to hear. 

“Stop it.” He crosses the room to you, pulling your hand away from your mouth. A sob breaks through, and he brushes a tear away with his thumb as he caresses your face. “I said stop,” he commanded. And you swallow the next sob—with nothing muffling you, the sounds could easily travel under the door and into your childrens’ rooms.  

Yoongi sighs and shakes his head, as if your reaction was an inconvenience. “I told you not to ask about my work.” His fingers slip away from your face, out of his caress. He sits down next to you purposefully, tilting your tear-stained face towards him. “But just this once. Okay?” 

You swallow, but the lump in your throat doesn’t go away. You’re scared for the whisper to leave your mouth, scared of his answer. But you have to know. “W-was it you?” 

He doesn’t break your eye contact, but his expression is unreadable. You search for any inkling, any hint. But he awards you none—it was his forte. After a few long, excruciating seconds, he answers you in a soft, firm, steady voice. “No.” 

You search his eyes for any other answer, any rogue feeling gone awry. But there isn’t any. You fall into his embrace in relief, unable to prevent your hiccuping cry. 

“Sh,” he pats your head. His voice is soft as he wipes the tears silently falling from your eyes. “Hey now, you’re alright. We’re alright.” He’s hugging you as her sobs shake your body, allowing yourself to be coddled and calmed by him. He was always a rock—a steady sangfroid against an ever volatile world.

“Please stop working so much.” You sniffle, looking up at him. “What’s the point of family if we don’t ever see you.” Your voice is tiny, but he hears. “One dinner. That’s all I want.” 

He looks down at you, his lips shifting into a soft smile. He kisses the top of your forehead. “How’s tomorrow?” 

The office blinds are open, allowing for a shutter of light to drift in. Lamps are lit around the room, illuminating the presence of the caporegimes and consigliere seated purposefully. 

“The Kangs are one of the oldest families in New York. We should be able to trust them.” Hoseok argued. 

“The way Don Kim was able to trust them?” Namjoon shot back. They all knew what had happened to the Kim family—the old Don was shot in a drive-by by a car notably driven by the Kang family. No one was able to prove it, the oldest son, Seokjin, assuming power soon after. Seokjin had proven to be a strategist, focusing all of his efforts on moving out west and relocating his family to profit from a more authentic enterprise, cutting crime out almost entirely from the family. He’d gotten his revenge in the end, though. In the form of Kang’s youngest son’s head delivered to him on a shiny platter. 

“They wouldn’t dare try anything at a meeting on our ground, not even a piece on ‘em.” Hoseok countered, but Yoongi held his hand up, silencing the room. 

“Namjoon’s right. They can’t be trusted.” Namjoon smirked smugly. “But we can’t outright refuse a meeting. It’s a show of disrespect. We’ll send people to meet ‘em somewhere public, at a restaurant full of civilians and shit. It’s safer.” 

Hoseok nodded, turning to signal another man, who left the room promptly to carry out the don’s instructions. 

Yoongi turned his attention to the next matter, facing Hoseok. “Did you take care of that newsboy problem?” 

“Of course, sir. He’s sleeping with the fishes.” Hoseok confirmed. “I’ve got the package we intercepted safely hidden.” 

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. “Good. And, hey. Be more careful next time, huh? Yn saw the papers, and heard you mention Broad street. I don’t need her or anyone else asking questions.” 

“He was in a rush to get home that day, sir.” Namjoon had a hint of a smile on his face, much to Hoseok’s chagrin. “His wife was ovulating.” The room broke into soft chuckles, the men’s shoulders shaking silently with laughter. Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“Regardless,” Hoseok interrupted. “Those damn Amatas never knew what hit ‘em.” 

“Serves them right, pushing our borders like that,” Namjoon riles up. He leans forward, “I mean, what did they think—” 

“It’s bullshit,” Hoseok agreed.” 

“They’ve been eyeing our business for a while now.” Park Jaisang, a senior caporegime to the don, chimed in. “It looks like they want to use their Transport connections to somehow overtake our business by controlling our intake of goods. 

“I’ll tell you what. They can take their transport connections, and shove ‘em up where—” Namjoon was in the middle of making a fist with his hands and pounding it in an obscene manner when Jaisang interrupted. 

“Anyways, we’ll have to push back. Protect our goods without interfering with their business. Otherwise we lose our connection.” 

“Well what if we…” Hoseok started, and the room fell into discussion. Heavy “No fucking way”s and “Forget about it!”s followed almost every proposition. 

Yoongi sat quietly, thinking. The men, running through and out of ideas, turned to their don, asking for his thoughts. Park Jaisang spoke, “There doesn’t seem to be a viable way to go about pushback without losing our transport connection.”

Yoongi was quiet for several moments, his head tilting to the side as he pondered. The room fell silent as his low voice arose. “Then we’ll have to take it over.” 

More silence followed his words. They all look at the don in shock. Jaisang was the one to voice their concerns, “It’s a big operation, Don Min. Bigger than we’ve handled before.” 

Yoongi leans forward in his chair, using his hands as sound actions as he talks, pointing to various sports on the desk as he lists, “With their business, we could control all of New York’s shipments. We wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else.” His voice is calm, deep. As though he wasn’t just outlining a plan to overthrow one of the biggest shipping companies on the East coast. Almost as though he was just discussing the weather. 

“Yes, but we’re not equipped for it.” Namjoon reminded, raising an important point. 

“So. We’re going to get equipped.” His voice was definitive, uninviting to debate. The room fell into another lull as understanding dawned on the men—Yoongi’s plans for the operation were bigger than any of them knew until now. The young Don was hungry, and he had the ambition to chase it. 

“Well, we’d have to start with…” They launched into logistics immediately, taking the boss’ command and running with it, like proper caporegimes. 

Through the discussion, Jeon Jungkook had quietly gained the don’s ear, to his left, “Excuse me, Don. You told me to notify you at 7:00 PM.” 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why? What’s at 7 PM?” 

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Your family dinner, sir.” 

Fuck. Yoongi glanced up at the grandfather clock in his office. Sure enough, The clock was soon to strike 7, giving him thirty minutes to get back to the house in time to sit down for family dinner. Though, the lively discussion taking place wasn’t about to end soon. They were launching a full-scale operation. It needed time, planning. It needed his full attention. 

You’d have to understand. 

“Thank you, Jeon. Carry on.” 

The moment he steps into your bedroom, he knows how this is going to go. 

You don’t look at him when he calls out a greeting, eyes pointedly focused on your book. He silently scoffs, shaking his head as he goes to hang his suit jacket up in the closet. A row of neatly folded clothes and freshly pressed shirts greet him—fruits of your labor today. 

“You missed dinner.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. He can probably guess your dialogue word for word. You missed dinner, how could you, you promised, you work too much. He sighs, rolling his sleeves up. He’s in the mood, not after the day he’s had. 

But you go on, as if on cue. “You promised.”

He knows you have a right to be upset, but hadn’t you two had this conversation, at least a hundred times, before? You knew his excuses, as he knew your nags. You knew he was at work, and that he would get caught up sometimes. He was a Don, for chrissake.. 

Women. Only concerned with their dinners and clothes. Throwing a temper tantrum when their husbands get caught up with real business. So busy spending his money you don’t care what it takes to earn it. So busy raising his kids you don’t know what it takes to keep them safe. 

“Now you’re not even going to talk to me?” Your voice drifts through his tired, irritated mind, just begging to be disciplined. The lack of respect you have for him as a wife is jarring. If a husband were to come home, exhausted after a long day, his wife is supposed to first greet him, preferably with food. She’s supposed to let him relax, put the kids to bed, and shut the fuck up while he unwinds, to award him some peace and quiet. 

She isn’t supposed to run her mouth. Like a filthy brat.

“Yoongi—” 

“Stop it.” He turned around, his gaze sharp on your thin slip, barely covering you up. “I mean it.” 

“We need to talk—” 

He strides towards the bed, footsteps loud on the wooden floor as makes his way to the dresser next to you, roughly pulling his necktie off with a warning evident in his eyes. “Shut up.” His voice is dangerously low and steady; the calm before the storm. 

You look back at him with your bottom lip threatening to jut out, like a child throwing a tantrum. Your brows are furrowed, your gaze indignant. Several moments pass as you stare at him, contemplating whether or not to open your mouth. You seem to be weighing the consequences. But your grievances win out in the end; you cross your arms over your chest, an attempt to look strong, but it only displays how weak the wall you’d put up was. 

“You parade around like a family man,” you taunt with a precarious voice, “But you’re a fake, Min Yoongi. A poser and a fake.” 

The thread keeping his composure together was thin to begin with, but with your perfectly targeted words, it snaps like a weak twig. He reaches over, easily grabbing your arm. Your eyes widen, darting to his hand, but quickly back to his face—anticipating his next move. 

He leans close, “And you’re the perfect mother? You’re a princess,” he spits, “sitting here at home all day, wearing pretty little dresses and decorating our baby’s room with bows and frills. But you want me to be a family man. You want me to sit at home playing dress up with you?” He grabs your face. “You wanna have quiet family dinners while bullets fly through our window? Because I was at home playing house? Because my wife threw a temper tantrum?” 

The whimper you let out is outside of your control, but it only makes Yoongi’s fingers tighten into your cheeks. “Who’s going to protect you when you’re out spending my money, huh? Who’s going to put a roof over your head, or food in your fridge?” He’s getting closer with each syllable—you can feel the spit flying everywhere, drops hitting your skin. He’s a breadth away from your lips when he says, “Who’s going to fuck those babies into you, the ones you wanted so badly?” His eyes are dark as he tilts his head, trailing his breath up your jawline. “Who’s going to pump you full of their cum, impregnate you like the bitch you are?” Blood is pounding in your ears, your breathing uneven as you try to hold perfectly still. 

He pushes you away, the force making you fall back into the bed. Your heart is racing, beating loudly from the intimate moment he just broke. Straightening up, he looks at your pitiful figure, “The disrespect you show me, when I’m all that stands between you and a bullet in your head.” He tsks, looking down disappointedly. “You have no idea what it takes. But I’m about to teach you, sweetheart.” 

He grabs your hand without looking at you, making your book fall from your lap as he pulls you off of the bed to follow him. Your breath is caught in your throat as you follow behind the man, weaving you through the house, and out the kitchen door into the backyard. You don’t realize your destination until he tugs you into the stand-alone garage, and locks the door behind you. 

He leaves you standing there, taking lazy steps around, as he lights his cigarette. The silence is eerie as he puffs, tucking his hand into his pocket and turning around to face you. He looks you up and down, standing meekly at the entrance with only your slip gown. He was in almost his full suit,  suspenders and all—he’d only gotten as far as taking off his jacket before…

He ends the staring contest with your body, leaning back against the garage wall nonchalantly. “Pick it up.” He nods over at the gun laying on the table in front of you. You take one look at the intimidating thing, and back up, where a target lay ahead of you—what the men used for practice—and your head whips back to him. 

“Pick it up.” He repeats, calm as ever, inhaling more smoke. Though his tone wasn’t turbulent, it awarded you with no room to argue—he isn’t going to ask again. 

Hesitantly, you reach a shaky hand out, feeling the cool metal under your touch as your hand wrapped around the gun. You’re sure you’re holding it wrong when you lift it up, surprised at the weight—it’s heavier than it looks. You turn it over in your hand, examining it up close. There was always a distance between you and guns, whether it was in someone else’s hand, or laying around in a room you never entered. This was the first time you had a good look at the deadly weapon. It wasn’t as scary up close. 

You feel Yoongi’s presence behind you before you hear it, his hand wrapping over yours. You look back, startled. “Put your finger here–like that—” he instructs, guiding your hands over the unfamiliar object. It’s slightly difficult when your body’s quivering, unaware of why he’s teaching you how to hold a gun. 

“Good.” He praises once you get a good hold. He reaches over you, his body pressing into your back, enveloping you entirely, to retrieve the bullets out of a drawer. And a second gun. 

“This is how you load ‘em.” His fingers work quickly, the gun clicking in the fearful silence you’re standing in. Once the barrel closes shut, he shows it to you. Leaning into your ear, over your shoulder, he nods at the gun in your hand, “Don’t worry, yours is already loaded.” 

You almost drop the gun in fright, your hand suddenly running cold. It suddenly feels as though the hand holding the gun didn’t belong to you, like its master was extracorporeal, simply attached to your body. But it wasn’t an alien presence—it was just Yoongi, holding the strings like a puppet master. 

“Stand here,” he grips your shoulders, moving you roughly to stand further back, directly in front of the makeshift target. His fingers run down your dominant arm, sending a warm sensation through your body. Once he reaches your wrist, he guides it upwards, making you point the barrel of the gun at the target. “Put your finger on the trigger.” 

Your heart starts beating rapidly in your chest, and you start to shake. He isn’t really going to make you go through with this? “Yoongi—” 

He doesn’t have patience, cutting off your sentence with an exasperated sigh and moving your finger over the trigger himself. “Fucks sake.” Tears well up in your eyes as your breathing is irregulated.

“Now, you wanted me to come home, so you have to protect the family.” His voice is low, his mouth pressed to your ear. “Shoot.” 

Your hand is shaking way too much, you have to support it with your other hand, grabbing it by the wrist. You shake your head, “Yoongi, I can’t—”

 “You can demand shit from me but you can’t pull a trigger?” He scoffs, holding you tightly at the waist to make sure you can't move away. Your eyes are teary when you shake your head, and he tsks. “Maybe you need a little motivation.” 

You hear the clicking of the gun behind you before you can register the feel of the cold metal pressed to your temple. On the other end of Yoongi’s hand is the barrel of his gun, pressing into you with a threatening force. His voice is steady as rock when he breathes, “Shoot.” 

Fear pierces through your heart, and your breath stops. Your tears break through the dam, running down your face as you silently weep. You’re afraid to make a sound, unsure of what’ll set off the precarious trap. You choke back sobs as you silently plead to Yoongi, hoping he’ll somehow understand. No such luck.

“Either you shoot, or I shoot.” Yoongi delineates. You chance a look at him, your eyes darting to his face—he’s stone cold. Not a hint of warmth to reassure you. You’ve seen this Yoongi before—the ruthless don who made difficult decisions. But you never thought you’d be on the other end of his gun. 

You wanted to believe your husband was a good man—that he’d never even consider blowing a hole through his wife, leaving his children motherless. You wanted to believe that he was a family man at heart, and that the softness you once saw in him was still alive. But deep down, you’d long accepted that the man you’d agreed to marry was gone. You didn’t know what this man was truly capable of. 

Maybe it’d never be a bullet in your head, but this was a test regardless—an allegory. Adrenaline shoots through your heart as you promise to yourself repeatedly that you’d never disobey him again. And you couldn’t now, either. 

You shut your eyes tightly as your hands tremble, but you tighten them further around the gun, lest you cause an accident with your unsteadiness. You send a small prayer up to the heavens before finding the trigger with your index finger. A sob breaks out of your chest, and the bullet leaves the gun in the time it took for a single tear drop to leave your ducts. 

The loud unexpected sound startles you, and amplifies this moment, the kickback even worse. You drop the gun immediately, not at all concerned about where the bullet landed on the target. You turn around to find refuge, sobbing as you throw yourself into Yoongi’s chest. Your whole body shakes as you grasp his shirt tightly with your fists, looking for something to hold you up before you collapse to your knees. 

“I can’t, Yoongi. I’m sorry,” you blubber, “I’m so sorry, please don’t make me do that again. I’m sorry—” 

Yoongi’s hand strokes your head as he shushes you. “Hey, it’s okay. Sh, baby, you don’t have to do it again.” He holds you close, safe. You nod as your shaking body winds down to a quiver, clutching Yoongi like a lifeline. He tilts your head up and makes your tear-stained face look at him, and the cold, soulless eyes you’d seen before were replaced with a soft look. He wiped your tear away with his thumb, and you leaned your cheek into his hand, a calming feeling meeting your veins for the first time that night. 

Until, “But you still disrespected me, didn’t you?”

You look at him with wide, teary eyes, wondering what fate would befall you next. You nod meekly. 

“What kind of husband would I be if I let that behavior fly, hm?” You want to point that he didn’t let it fly, that the reasons for your tears right now had to do with him not letting you get away with it. But you keep your mouth shut. 

His hand trails down your night slip, taunting the thin fabric. You let out a gasp when he reaches your core, a criminal smirk ghosting onto his lips. You feel his fingers pressing into you through the fabric, the indent of his rings making it clear. “You deserve to be punished, right?” 

You nod again without much thought, bowing your head. He has a right to punish you, you’d spoken much too boldly. A mistake you now have to pay for. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” 

You suddenly find yourself clutching to his bicep for dear life as he pushes you backwards, towards the table in the center of the garage. Hoisting you up, he’s quick to tug your nightgown up roughly, surely ripping some of the seams. His tongue peeks out at the sight of your panties, running over his lips salaciously. “Whatcha put all the bows and frills on for? For me?” His hand runs up your thigh, and he leans closer over you. “Wanted to surprise your husband?” 

You gulp with a weak nod, now feeling pathetic about your earlier excitement. “So you do have a semblance of what it means to be a wife.” His fingers explore your garment, finding a protruding wetness seeping through. You burn in shame as his fingers press into you through the fabric, shutting your eyes at the squishing sound beneath his hand. 

“Your body knows it belongs to me, huh?” He drawls, pushing his tongue into his cheek.You can’t handle the eye contact, looking away in humiliation. He takes your exposed neck as an opportunity, hungrily leaning in to take a bite. 

You whimper as his teeth sink into your skin, his breaths loud in your ear as sloppily tongues your neck. You start to squirm with the sensations running through your veins, but he holds you still. He’s engulfing you with his body, hands pinned to either side of you, leaving you trapped underneath him. Like a hunter, who’s ensnared his prey and begins to feast. 

A tearing sound breaks through the room, the scraps of your panties throw over Yoongi’s shoulder as the culprit. He doesn’t pay any attention to your surprised face, just takes advantage of the new exposure and immediately cups your heat. His fingers run over your folds, like he was feeling them out—like you were his property, and he was doing a routine check. But there was nothing routine about the way he started rubbing fervently, his rings dragging across your folds. 

Your legs started to shake in anticipation as he explored, teasing your clit and your opening. When he finally sunk his fingers in, it was embarrassingly easy—something Yoongi didn’t fail to notice. “Look at how you suck me in,” he taunts with a pretty smile, the devil behind it. “I own you.” 

You cry out as the ridges of his rings nudge against your entrance. It doesn’t deter Yoongi, fully pushing them in and filling you to the brim. The metal feels cool against your hot walls, and you can’t stop kicking your legs. 

“Quit it.” Yoongi huffs, snatching your legs up in one fell swoop and pushing you down on your back. He holds your legs to his chest with one hand as the other pumps your cunt, your slick making it an easy glide. “Fucking brat.”

Your legs are quivering in his grasp, but he doesn’t let up. His iron grip is strong as his fingers move quickly in and out of your cunt. Your squishy walls are unaccustomed as the protruding rings penetrate you in invasive ways. You know one of them has his family emblem engraved into the metal—it’s like he’s branding you on the inside, too. A stamp to make sure you belonged to Don Min. 

His thrusts are ruthless, two fingers opening you up. You constrict around him, can’t help the way the metal makes you feel. You feel your end approaching quickly, not sure how much more of this stimulation you can take. “Yoongi, please, I-I’m—” 

He must’ve guessed the end of your sentence because he immediately pulls his fingers out, ignoring your cries as he wipes the essence on your slip with a sneer, soiling your clothes. He doesn’t have a care in the world about how hard you’re going to have to scrub tomorrow to wash it out. It’s not his problem. 

“This bratty shit, it never ends.” He scoffs, pushing your legs away from him aggressively. “Entitled as fuck.” You open your mouth, desperate to wail ‘no, i can be good! I promise!’, but he interrupts you first. 

“First it was the disrespect, and now this.” He shakes his head, his hands falling to something behind you. “You need to start taking me more seriously.” 

You don’t know how to tell him you do respect him, you already take the dangerous man seriously. You want to vouch for yourself, beg for him to see how good of a wife you were. Good and quiet, you can do that. But once you see what he’s retrieved in his hand, you’re shut silent. 

“See, baby, my job is very dangerous.” He moves the loaded gun, nudging your knees open with it. You see it all in slow motion as he moves towards your center. “More than I think you understand.” You choke back a gasp as you feel the barrel brush against your folds, afraid to take a breath. 

“Because I’d do anything to protect you. Because I love you,” he’s leaning in, his voice hushed with a hard edge as he brushes his lips against your ear. “But you can’t even appreciate that.” Your breath is shaky as he moves your head to look at him. “Can you?” You can’t focus on his words, too busy fearing for your life as the cold metal is pressed against you. You feel your entrance clenching tightly, preparing for the penetration. But it never comes. 

You nod, answering his question. “I respect you, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” You hold on to those words like a lifeline, hoping they’re the right ones. Several moments pass as Yoongi lets you marinate in the tense moment, unsure of where your fate lies. But he gives you a small nod of affirmation, disengaging the gun and throwing it to the side. You let out a big sigh of relief, dizzy with anticipation. 

Yoongi rolls his sleeves up, evidently not done with teaching you a lesson. “Who am I, baby?” His use of a pet name is laced with irony as he roughly tugged you closer by your legs. The jingle of his belt and zipper filled the room as Yoongi dropped his pants, wrapping your legs around his waist, his endgame evident. 

“My don,” you whisper, eyes avoiding his, and instead glued to the intimidating girth he’d just pulled out. His ringed hand wraps around it, pumping himself a few times, clearly satisfied with your answer. He is your don first. 

He nudges your entrance, “And what else am I?” 

You don’t have the chance to respond as he pushes in, crying out with the stretch of his cock. The rings are one thing—a new sensation. But nothing can top the feeling of Yoogi’s dick breaking you in two. 

His hand wraps around your face, pushing your mouth open with two fingers as he repeats himself. “What am I, sweetheart?”

“Daddy!” You cry, shaking as he impales you. He leans in close as he bottoms out, licking a stripe up your chin to find your mouth. He spits a glob of saliva into your open and awaiting hole, relishing in the way you swallow it down immediately, sticking your tongue out to show him it was all gone. 

“That’s right, I’m daddy.” He growls, picking up the pace. He holds you steady as he wreaks havoc on your battered cunt, making you take it. “I’m your family man. I’m daddy. Don’t forget it.” 

You give a weak nod, the best you can do in your state. Your hole is trying to adjust to the feeling of his cock after the cold sensations it was previously exposed to. But the way he ruthlessly moves his hips, slapping into you with each thrust, makes it more difficult. The power imbalance was clear, seeping in from your life. 

“Gonna fuck a baby into you,” he pants, driving his hips into yours, penetrating deeply. “It’s all you’re good for.” The way you tightly clench around him is outside of your control, and so is the moan you let out. There’s nothing more you want in life than to carry his children. 

“P-Please, daddy.” You beg, grasping at his shirt, hoping your need comes across. He reads your desperation like a book, feels how you pull him closer with your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Yeah? Wanna carry my kids?” He quickens his pace and you know he’s close. What you don’t know is that he’s been edging himself the entire time, waiting for the moment he’d be able to empty his balls into your cunt. “Want me to fuck you stupid and get you pregnant again?” 

“Please, please,” you chant, dying to feel his seed fill you up. “I want your babies, Don Min. Please.” 

“Fuck, you’re a perfect little whore.” He kisses you roughly as he nears his end, rutting into you inhumanly as he builds himself up to his climax. It’s all tongue and teeth, your body jostling, as he claims your mouth as his. He stakes his claim in your pussy next, filling your womb to the brim with his cum as he reaches his peak. He lets out an animalistic grunt as he empties himself, lazily rutting and working himself through it. 

His head is thrown back and he looks like a god, damp hair sticking to his forehead, eyes shut, mouth open. The light behind him gives him a halo, topping the picturesque moment that you’d store away in your brain forever. 

He pulls himself out after riding his peak, pushing his hair back and pulling his pants up promptly, re-buckling his belt. He turns around, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting it, letting out a puff to the side, giving you a view of his side profile. He tucks the cigarettes back in his pocket, and without a second glance back, strides towards the door, walks out, and lets it close behind him. 

Left sitting on the table, his cum leaking out of you, you see the ruthless Don clearly now.

You know that the newsboy had died by his hand.

— let me know what you think!

Copyright © 2022, yoon2k| tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc

[kimnjssrecs]

AHHH ‼️‼️ so much to unpack here?? first of all ., weedman yoongi is the love of my life !! like i can one hundred percent picture him being the plug nd??? he’s so sweet too 🥹🥹 WHEN THEY SHOTGUNNED OH NY GODDD ., no wonder she was ready to jump him right then nd there are we insane?? 😳😳😳 no but this was wicked good nd i lowkey wanna see them hanging out nd him returning the favor 👀 mainly bc i cannot get enough of this yoongi . when he copied her emojis!??? i swear i fell in love 🥺 hES THE CUTEST !! nd you did such a great job writing this - 10/10 ‼️‼️

big poppa | MYG (18+)

❀one-shot❀

❥ pairing: weedman!yoongi X black!reader

❥ genre: angst, smut, light fluff

❥ summary: You smoke with your local weedman, and it goes further than expected...

❥ !!warnings!!: sexual activity while under the influence of weed

❥other warnings: oral (male receiving) in a car, somewhat subby Suga, slight coochie play

❥notice: Suga is Yoongi’s street name so that’s who he is known as in this fic. He’s also 24 here, because I didn’t want college reader to be having sexual relations with a 27 year old lmaooooo. (There’s nothing wrong with that since they would both be adults, but I didn’t want him to be too much older in this). She’s 20, so 24 seemed like a reasonable age for Suga.

-Y’all I actually never smoked weed, and I’m going off of some of my ex friends’ experiences of what it feels like, so bare with me lmaooooo😭.

❥ word count: 4.2k

-author’s note: Song Recommendation: Big Poppa- The Notorious B.I.G. (slowed)

-Hope you enjoy!!!💖💖💖

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You [10:57 PM]: heyyyy 🥺🥺🥺

Suga🥴✨[11:13 PM]: need something?

You [11:18 PM]: Just in the mood for my usual 🥺

Suga🥴✨ [11:20 PM]: I have a lil drop to do then I’ll be heading your way. Aight?

You [11:21 PM]: okay 🥺

Suga🥴✨ [11:23 PM]: that damn emoji lol

You [11:26 PM]: DONT MAKE FUN OF IT 💔

Putting your phone down, you check in the mirror to make sure that you still look good, despite the stressed out bags under your eyes becoming more and more prominent by each passing day. Midterm exams chewed you up and spit you right the fuck back out, and you’ve been tense since you started studying for them. You’d passed all of them but almost failed one of your tests with a really low C, and it was still stressing you out. You didn’t want your grade to go down tremendously to where your scholarships would be cancelled. You knew you were probably still in the safe zone, but your anxiety wouldn’t go down.

So you hit up your local weed man. Weed always calmed you, but it’s been over a month since you smoked any. You’re positive that a good smoke sesh would relax your body and mind for the better. And Suga had the good shit. The real good shit. Plus, he was cool. A 24 year old that didn’t go to college but is making a hell of a living by selling marijuana to college students and much older adults. He’d make more money if he sold to teenagers that begged to buy from him, but he was serious on not selling to minors. He chose morals over money any day, which you admired a lot about him.

Suga was cute, too. Sharp, cat-like eyes, a button nose, soft, pink lips and pretty teeth. He was a bit on the short side, but his lean body fit him. You didn’t know too much about him, since he was really closed off and private, but your run in’s had all been cool. He wasn’t creepy and made his costs fair and convenient, so you never thought it was too dangerous to be with him alone. Suga was the local weed man for a reason. And there was no way that you were going to risk buying from anyone else when Suga had already proved himself to be one of the best.

Getting ready, you put on some cotton shorts and a regular tee, not bothering too much to put on makeup or anything. You’re expecting a quick exchange and then heading back to your room to smoke it off, so there was no point in wasting time on looking cute.

Taking your knotless braids from its bun on top of your head, you style them down and then make sure your breath isn’t bad. It’s was night time, and you hadn’t gotten ready for bed yet and did your nightly routine. It didn’t smell bad, but you quickly brushed for good measure.

Suga🥴✨[11:57 PM]: here.

You [11:59 PM]: coming

You quickly grab your wallet and head down the stairs of your dormitory. You’re pissed to find out that it’s kind of chilly outside on the dark campus, seeing that your arms and legs were bare to the wind. You should’ve put on some sweats.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to find Suga. His black Mercedes is parked in the far back of the school in its usual place, isolated, and you make your way over to his car that’s bumping some old school rap, crossing in front of his dulled head lights.

His window rolls down as you walk to the driver’s side, and there he is, looking as mouthwatering as always. “Isn’t it kinda cold to be walking out here half naked?” He asks, but you sense the comedic intent behind it.

“I just threw something on,” you wave him off. Stepping up closer, you ask, “How much?”

The Cuban link around his neck sparkles as he shrugs. “How much you got in your wallet?”

You giggle with a roll of your eyes, snatching your wallet away from his grasp. “Hell no. I need to pay for lunch tomorrow, boy.”

“Boy?” His dark eyebrow shoots up.

You prop your arms on the part of his window that’s rolled down and lean in, smiling with your teeth. “Man.”

“Mmm,” he nods, that cute gummy smile breaking out across his lips. “That’s what I thought you said. Get in. It’s too cold to be standing out here.”

The sound of his car doors unlocking has you rushing to the passenger side and sliding into the front seat. His car smells heavily of him and weed mixed together, your favorite.

Turning down the radio, he reaches over your legs to open up the glove compartment. You notice that he’s actually all dressed up instead of in casual clothes, wearing light wash jeans paired with a dark green tee and a matching jacket, a couple of shiny chains around his neck. His black hair is gelled and parted to perfection, too. And he smells good. You wonder where he was before, but you know it’s not your business to ask. A drop could mean more weed or even drugs, and you really didn’t want to know.

After shuffling through the compartment, he pulls out a plastic jar and checks it.

“Here.” He hands it to you.

There’s chunks of weed in the plastic container, but you don’t let the fact that it’s bigger slip past you. “This is an eighth...”

“I know.”

“Uh...” you breathily giggle and start handing it back to him. “I only have enough for a gram. That’s what I texted you for.”

“Okay, then just pay me what you would pay me for a gram,” he says. He looks over at you to see that you’re confused, and he pushes the container closer to you. “I’m not gonna miss it, ________ .”

You’re not even focused on the weed anymore. Now that he’s fully looking at you, you can see what you didn’t see when you were standing on the left of him outside of the car.

“Your eye...”

You haven’t seen him in weeks, but you know that there wasn’t a long ass scar passing through his right eye the last time you’d bought from him. His eye looked perfectly fine, though, but the healing red gash still didn’t settle well with you.

“Just a knife fight with a random over some coke,” he chuckles. “Nothing serious. My face isn’t as bad as his... but back to this,” he takes the jar from your hands and inspects it. “Ten dollars would suffice.”

Your eyes are still trained on the slash over his eye. He could be missing an eye right now... but, again, it wasn’t your business. Suga seemed like a tough cookie. You were sure he could hold his own. You were only here for the weed anyways. Nothing else.

“Why... Why are you making me pay less?” You question softly. “That’s worth like... 25...”

Handing it back to you, he sighs. “You’re a college student, and plus, I’ve been getting a lot of sells lately. Probably since it’s midterm test time, right?” You nod. “Soo, I don’t mind lowering prices for my main sources of income during stressful times. Other college students have been getting discounts as well. I already make more than enough money, so why not? I know a lot of y’all are broke, so lowering my prices on something that can help you all relax and give back to my customers is the least I can do. So don’t think you’re taking advantage of me or anything... I wanted to.”

“Oh...” you can’t help the smile that appears on your face. “I’m sure a lot of other dealers are raising their prices right now... That’s really sweet of you.”

He physically gags at you calling him sweet. “Aish, don’t call me that. I’m being a decent human being.”

“Well, that’s really nice of you...” you correct yourself. Gazing down at the weed in the container, you still feel uneasy about taking it for less the price of the original cost. It was good ass weed... this shouldn’t be for ten bucks. Suga had his prices lower than they should be already before that ‘college student discount’. “I can’t give you only ten dollars, Suga...”

“Okay, then give me none.”

“That’s more unfair.”

Suga laughs. “________... I will hit you up side the head with that damn container...”

“Do it. But it’s still unfair to me; I know you work really hard,” you say seriously, your eyes meeting his. “This is enough for four people.”

Suga observes you with his elbow resting on the door handle and his hand holding up the side of his face. Your face is free from any playfulness, and you seem really concerned. All Suga wants to do is be nice to his customers—as he should— and you’re making it all difficult for him by being so extra and caring. He should’ve known you would act like this.

“Okay, fine. Since it’s too much, why don’t I smoke some off with you? So that it will be fair? Only if that’s what you want to do with it, because that is your weed now,” he offers.

Your eyes widen at his suggestion. Never would you have thought that he’d ask to smoke with you. Hell, you were still kind of an amateur at it, and you didn’t want to look stupid in front of him. You never smoked in front of anyone either. You always did it in the security of your dorm room or your own car, because you felt safer that way if you got a bit too high. You knew how easy it was to be taken advantage of under the influence of anything, but you doubted that Suga would do that to you.

“S-Sure.”

Suga’s eyes roam over your face for any sign of discomfort. “You sure? It’s only an option, you don’t have to smoke with me—“

“I want to,” you say. “But... I’m not like a pro at it so don’t make fun of me.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “I would never make fun of you enjoying yourself. You’re not crazy when you’re high, are you?”

“No, but...” Your teeth find your bottom lip. You couldn’t say what you wanted to out loud. “It’s... nothing crazy.”

“Fine with me.”

Suga lifts up the arm rest to search for whatever he needs, and he ends up pulling out rolling paper and a lighter from the small space. Giving him the container, he opens it and takes a clump of the weed out, crushing it between his fingers and splaying it out on the brown paper. He’s way more experienced at it than you, and the blunt is rolled perfectly in just a few more seconds.

His eyes flicker to yours as he licks the seam of it for it to stick, and then do you realize that he’s only made one blunt. You two are going to share...

“You don’t mind, do you? I promise I’m clean,” he says.

You shake your head quickly. “Ah, no, no. It’s fine... I’m clean, too.”

He holds the blunt out for you. “Want the first hit?”

Swallowing nervously, you nod and take it between your fingers. You can already smell the tangy scent of the weed enclosed inside, and you can feel your mouth water, so ready to puff it. It’s really been too long since you’ve smoked.

Suga lights it for you, and you don’t hesitate to take that first, long drag. It’s satisfying how your senses calm immediately.

After holding it for a few seconds, you then exhale the smoke from your lips, no coughing or choking.

“Not a pro at it, huh?” Suga mocks you as you hand it over to him. Your face blazes at how he caught you in your little innocent act.

“Definitely not.”

Suga then takes his puff, taking it like a champ as well, the butt of it gleaming burnt orange as he breathes it in. Tilting his head back, he lets it fog out against the roof of his car, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing.

You reach for his radio out of nervousness and fear that he’d catch you staring. “Can I turn something on?”

He hums.

You turn up his radio to hear the sound of Biggie softly rapping through the speakers. Realizing that Suga has significant taste in music as well, you leave it there.

The joint is given back to you to smoke, and you and Suga pass it back over and over again. Suga’s seat is eventually laid back to help him relax more, and you’re already on cloud nine by time another song by Biggie is playing on the radio.

“The song...” you mumble. The harsh beat and the melodic rapping of the song is making you feel even better. Why had you never listened to music while you smoked?

“Biggie and Tupac are the best to listen to while high,” Suga says softly. “It hits better. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You take another puff from the blunt and lie back on your seat, gazing over at Suga with hooded eyes. It’s no surprise when you see that his are as low, too. “Yeah. It does.”

The session continues on as the joint shortens and shortens. Another Biggie song starts, and you recognize it as your favorite song by the artist. The nostalgic sound waves and the piano in the background... it was stimulating your entire body along with the weed.

And it didn’t help that Suga was next to you rapping all of the lyrics.

“I love it when you call me big po-ppa... throw ya hands in the air, if you’s a true playa...”

Your body is turned to face him, and you’re blinking at him slowly as he continues on. He notices you staring at him while he does the second verse, and you don’t bother to hide it this time. With another pull of the weed, he leans closer to you, and you deliberately open your mouth because you know what he’s about to do.

The smoke is exhaled into your mouth, and you breathe it right in. Suga’s pink lips ghosting against yours has you going in for more, and he does it again, slowly this time. When he pulls away, your eyes lock onto one another’s, but his gaze breaks from yours when he notices movement on your side.

Your thighs had clenched up. Tight. And he’d seen it.

“What?” He huskily chuckles at your sexual reaction.

“Your panties wet?”

...

Hell yes, they are!

But it was too embarrassing to agree. The man just wanted to have a smoke sesh with you and here you are creaming in your shorts from it.

You don’t respond.

He stubs out the blunt since it’s too short to smoke any of it anymore. “It’s fine. It’s normal. It happens to me, too.” Suga could tell how embarrassed you were, but he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with your body having a regular reaction to the drug. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. I shouldn’t have said that; it was inappropriate.”

Not at how he was being so nice and considerate... when your panties were wet. Weed made you horny every time you smoked it. You don’t know what his intention behind that question was, but you wanted to see if he would do something about it.

“Soo... is your dick hard, too?”

Suga freezes. “Is what hard?”

Your heart is hammering in your ears, but you’re not backing down from trying to hit on your weedman. He’d said something first... clearly it was what he was thinking.

You don’t know if it’s the weed or your coochie talking, but there was no going back right now.

“You,” you repeat. “Yeah, I’m wet... and I asked if you were hard.”

Suga lies himself back in his seat, making sure he’s hearing you correctly. His mind is jumbled up from the drug, but he is positive he is processing what he is processing. You’re taking shots, so why not he do the same.

“Why don’t you check...”

Your hand goes directly for the subject in question, and you gasp when you feel the erection prodding against his light wash jeans. He is hard...

Your dark eyes fall onto his face. “Is it because of me or the weed?”

“Both,” he shakily breathes. “Mainly you.”

“You’re only saying that because my hand’s on your cock.”

“Aish... you have such a potty mouth when you’re high, ________ ...” Suga mumbles. “Watch out. I’d stuff something in it real proper real quick.”

“Your cock?” You try him, batting your lashes and licking your lips. “Pull it out then.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have smoked with you,” he laughs and takes your hand off of the bulge in his pants. “You’re playing a dangerous game right now.”

You place your hand right back where it was, squeezing this time. “Well, let me play... I want to suck you off.”

Suga jerks at you touching him, and you wonder if he’s ever been seduced this way. His face is all flushed, and he’s the one looking kind of embarrassed right now.

He’s had customers try to sex him up, of course, but he’s not exactly opposed to you doing it. He’s never mixed business with pleasure, but you’re turning something inside of him into something really carnal, and he has no control over it.

He wasn’t going to take advantage of you, though, and force you to do it. Today’s events crosses his mind, and he wants to make sure that he’s reading into this correctly.

“This isn’t because of me lowering the price, right?” He questions slowly. “You don’t need to repay me in this way...”

You frown. “I’m actually horny right now... and you’re cute... and like-able. Sorry if it came off as that.”

“No, it’s cool. I kind of don’t believe that you want to suck me off just because,” he literally blushes. The man blushes so hard. Your local weed man who looks like he could beat anyone’s ass if they dare to look at him wrong is blushing right in front of you.

“I’m kind of high, but I know what I’m saying. I really want to.”

“Uh—okay—fuck—“ Suga lifts up to slide off his jacket and toss it in the back. His zipper is coming down next, and then his pants are pushed to his thighs. Your hand is already on his cock, holding it and trying to get the best look at it in the darkness of the car. From the looks of it, it’s so—

“Pretty... Why is your dick so pretty?” You compliment as you relish in the silky skin, playing around with the girth of it on your palms.

Suga’s vision is a little blurry as he tips his head back to rest against the head rest of his seat, a loud groan filling up the car due to your hand on him. The weed definitely had him more sensitive. “I-It looks like a normal cock to me.”

You hum and stroke him lightly, some pre-cum falling onto your fingers when you grip the rosy tip. “Show me how to get you off.”

Suga’s veiny hand encloses around yours, and he guides you to touch him gently. With the few strokes he shows you, you know that he likes teasing himself, going fast then slow to stop himself from getting too stimulated.

Pushing his hand away, you get on your knees on your seat and bend over the arm rest, your face as close to his private as you can get. His dick even has it’s own sweet, musky smell to it just like him, and you want nothing more than to suck the hell out of him.

Your first move towards him is a couple of soft kitten licks on the blazing tip. He hisses at the petty contact, but you know he likes it this way. Then, you’re sucking kisses along the sides of his length, veins tickling your tongue. His hand is already in your knotless braids, wrapping them up in his hand to grip on something. He doesn’t pull, though, since he’d grabbed them to not only ground himself but to try and get a better look at you pleasing him. No way is he going to miss this, no matter if he doesn’t remember it when the weed wears off.

You lick your lips before sliding him into your mouth, letting the spit from your throat coat him up. You’re bobbing your head and going all in, getting a little light headed from trying to go too fast, but you’re working him so good to the point that all he’s doing is moaning and gasping, not trying to jerk his hips up too fast into your mouth to choke you.

Suga sees that your hips are in the air, wiggling about while you have him down your throat. “Can I—fuck—can I touch you?”

You lazily nod, arching your back to present yourself even more. One of Suga’s hands is then on your backside, pulling down those flimsy cotton shorts and sliding his hand against your wet cunt over your underwear. He’s only rubbing against you for a little bit before you’re trying to fuck yourself back on him while moaning around his dick.

“Gonna cum,” he warns, but you hold your position. He cums inside your mouth, the hand in your hair tightening, and the hand over your pussy cupping you.

You finally release him and lift up, his hands falling down your waist and off of your head. There’s cum on your lips, and Suga wipes it off for you, but you take his hand and put it in your mouth, licking the white semen off of his thumb.

“Damn,” his mouth is parted in awe while watching you. “That weed fucked you up, huh?”

“It fucked you up, actually,” you grin, and your eyes are still hooded and low, but you nor Suga care about it anymore. “Had you blushing and moaning like a girl.”

“Your mouth isn’t one to mess with,” he agrees. “This was... nice.”

You nod and get back in the passenger seat, pulling your shorts back up the most coordinated way you can. Your mind is still so hazy. “Yeah, it was.”

You reach for the plastic container of weed on the dashboard, noticing that there is still so much in it even though you and Suga smoked some. You grab for your wallet and pull out a ten dollar bill. “Here.”

Suga doesn’t want to take it anymore, but he doesn’t want it to seem like you just paid him by sucking his dick. So he takes it. “Thanks. Uhm...” he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what it is. “Nevermind.”

You nod, and then you get out of the car. Suga didn’t know that you were about to get out like that, but he didn’t know why he should let you stay. He wants to talk more, but the weed in his system is making him think too slowly.

You disappear back onto the campus, and Suga wonders if what just happened, actually happened. Either it did, or his weed really is that good.

You wake up the next morning with a slightly sore throat, but your memory is there. Your confidence from last night is not though.

Why you had seduced your weedman to let you suck him off was eating at you the whole time you did your morning routine. You knew weed made you horny... why did you even decide to smoke with him?!

He probably thought that you were some easy slut that folded at a couple of puffs of weed... please... it was actually slightly true.

You’re in the middle of thinking about how long the weed you got last night would last before you needed more and how you possibly needed to be looking for another weedman until your phone dings.

It’s Suga.

Suga🥴✨ [8:21 AM]: Hey. Sorry for last night. It was really inappropriate and I don’t like to mix business with pleasure.

You read over the text over and over again.

Is he telling you off? Were your dick sucking skills that bad? Did he fake that orgasm?

No, no. You definitely had his cum in your mouth. He didn’t fake that. And he liked it... so why is he talking like he’s about to block you?

Your heart skips a beat when you see that he’s typing again. A message sends.

Suga🥴✨ [8:22 AM]: But I’m interested in you and I realized that I didn’t repay the favor. Maybe we could catch up later and I could eat you out?

Suga🥴✨ [8:22 AM]: without being under the influence 🥺...

You let out a breath of relief, your own nervous laugh filling your ears. You text back, a giddy smile on your face.

You [8:23 AM]: look at who’s using my emoji... but I’d like that🥺

——————————♡♡♡——————————

[kimnjssrecs]

>>...SPOILED BRAT MASTERLIST

an ongoing series of drabbles surrounding dad's best friend yoongi

rate: 20+ audience

⥛ full part

# sneaking out

# phone sex

# vacation

⥛ blurbs

# morning after #1

# wedding

# dinner party

> want more dilf content? click here!

| main m.list|

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

>> WORKING GIRL : DILF!HOSEOK

↦ SUMMARY you would never wanna be on the receiving end of hoseok's wrath. but now that you are, your boss is gonna make sure you know where you stand at your performance review.

↦ PAIRING boss!hoseok × intern!reader

↦ WARNINGS 20+ audience, legal age gap, cum shot, mouth fuck, oral m!receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, uhh fucking in an office??, power dynamics, praise kink, daddy kink, use of 'whore' & 'slut', slight dumbification

↦ A/N yall remember this?! + m.list

"I'm sorry, yn. But we really need to talk about the quality of work you've been putting in."

Your boss, Jung Hoseok, leaned back in his giant office chair as you cowered across his desk.

"Please, Mr. Jung. I can do better." You plead, hands clasped together in your lap. Trembling.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I expected so much from you, but you're letting me down. You're so young, I suppose I set my expectations too high. At this rate, I can't mark this internship complete when your director asks."

"No!" Your eyes beg. "Please, Mr. Jung. Give me another chance."

It's true, you had been turning in subpar work at your internship. At first, it was because you didn't really care, finding the mundane office mind-numbingly boring. With all the business kids upstairs learning new marketing techniques and doing real-life simulations while you were stuck down here in finance. You regretted choosing economics as your major.

That is until Jung Hoseok was assigned as your project manager. All smiles and jokes, warming you up to the cold office immediately. Friendly demeanor making you feel so drawn to him. The way he'd tease you in the breakroom, how laughed boisterously with his whole body, all eyes were on him during any meeting. Wanted to do anything to make him smile at you like that.

You quickly threw yourself into your work, often double and triple checking. Just to make sure you weren't turning in something Mr. Jung would be disappointed in. You didn't think you could ever handle that. You revelled in his praise, craved the way he'd dote on you to his colleagues, "the wonder intern," he'd call you. Tucking you into his side like his little protégé. And all you could do was giggle as your stomach erupted into butterflies.

But eventually, you started to let the quality of your work fall. More focused on what Hoseok would like for lunch, or fixing your makeup in the mirror before your meeting with him, or spending time picking out your outfit and being tardy to work to focus on minute details, like getting your work in on time. At first, Hoseok would let it slide. Thinking you were having an off week. But eventually, the quality was getting to the point where he'd be better off asking his nephew to do it for him, and he was five. He couldn't keep looking the other way anymore, no matter how much he liked you.

"How can I even take you seriously when you turned in this last week?" He thrust your report across the desk to you, papers ruffling making you flinch. He brought his hand to his forehead, closing his eyes in frustration.

"I-I-," you blubber, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You didn't have an answer. How were you supposed to tell him you didn't care about this stupid job. That the only reason you were crying was because, if you got fired, it would mean you'd never see him again. How were you supposed to explain that the only thing that made you clock in every day was his attention?

"God, yn. I just wish I knew how to get you to focus." His voice was softer now, but still had a threatening edge to it. He looked irriated at you from across the desk. Eyebrows furrowed slightly, fingers thrumming on the table as he leaned back.

You shrunk under his scrutinizing gaze. "I can do it, I promise I can. Please let me prove myself."

"And why should I believe you?" He scoffed. "There are plenty of college students, much more qualified than you, who would kill to be in your seat. Financial intern to one of the biggest investment managment firms. Why should I trust you to take this work seriously?"

"Please, Mr. Jung," you're on the verge of full on sobbing now, sniffling as you try to hold your tears back. Your hands are held up in a plea. "I'll prove it to you, I'll do anything."

He raised his eyebrow. "Anything, hm?" The thrumming of his fingers on the desk suddenly stopped, throwing you into tension-filled silence in the room. The inflection of his voice, the way he was eyeing you with dark eyes, his posture shifted to become almost predatory. It was a dangerous path to go down, but you were willing to risk it all. Everything, for this man sitting in front of you.

You nod complacently. "Well, take some initiative, bambi," his mouth spread into a challenging smirk, legs spreading comfortably. Your eyes immediately fell to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. A bulge you've spent many late nights thinking about. "Show me you have the skills to work here."

You take a gulp as your thoughts run through your head. You know what you want, and you know what he wants. But was it a test? One tongue sweep of his lips as he eyed you hungrily and you make an executive decision. Your heart's in your throat as you lowered yourself onto your knees. Your cheeks burn as he watches you silently, crawling under his desk and sitting prettily at his feet. Fuck, if this is the wrong move, you're done for. If this is the right move, well...

He barely lets you breath once you get him into your mouth, grunting loudly above you as he chokes you with every thrust. His hand is tangled in your hair, moving you back and forth as he fucks your mouth. "Well, at least I know you're good for something," he chides with a teasing laugh, slapping your cheek lightly as you look up at him with big eyes, cock still in your mouth while your drool leaks out.

Jung Hoseok, the office prince charming, the sunshine on a rainy day, the handsome devil in armani suits and colorful sunglasses, was thrusting ruthlessly into your mouth, spitting filthy praises at you, with no end in sight. You'd always wanted to be on his good side. Little did you know his bad side was even better. "Dirty little cockslut, got on her knees so quickly for me. All you want is my attention isn't it? Just waiting for me to call you into this office and fuck you silly."

All you can manage are moans around his cock as he keeps going. "Don't think I didn't notice. You fluttering your eyelashes at me, wearing shorter skirts. Bending over the copier." He groans at the memory, hips moving faster. "Your cute ass in the air, just begging for me to rip those stockings off and fuck that pretty cunt."

A fresh heat of arousal flooded your panties at his words. "Pretty girl. Couldn't do a damn thing without your superior's praise. Isn't that right?" He cooed. "You wanted your boss' cock stuffed inside you?"

Your eyes were teary when he pulled you off his cock, mewling to get him back into your mouth. "Uh uh," he tutted, amusement flashing in his eyes at your desperate attempts to continue sucking his cock. "Stand up."

You shakily rose to your feet, helped by Hoseok's hand. You stumbled a bit as he pulled you up, falling into his chest with an oomf. "Stupid baby," he cooed as he turned you around, facing his desk. His hand brushed your hair back as he leaned into your ear. "Can't do a thing without me."

You couldn't hold back your tears when he bent you over his desk, screaming muffled by his large hand as he battered your pussy with his huge dick. You could feel him deep in your guts, almost as though he was molding his own shrine. Your walls stretched to accommodate him, but with every thrust, you clenched so tightly. He'd hiss as he'd grab your tits, pulling you against his chest. "Little whore." He growls, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, "Are you gonna do your work on time, or do I have to keep teaching you a lesson?"

And when he came in your cunt, stuffed his leaking seed back into your hole with a gruff "it better stay like this", once you'd found your discarded clothes and threw them back on hastily, he gave you big smile and a wave as you left his office, but you didn't miss the mischievous gleam in his eye.

↦ want more dilf content? click here!

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

>> ... DADDY DEAREST MASTERLIST

an ongoing series of drabbles surrounding best friend's dad dilf!seokjin

rate: 20+ audience

# sleepover

# house sitting

# close call

⥛ mini drabble

# father's day

> want more dilf content? click here!

| main m.list |

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

here comes santa claus | ksj

↠ SUMMARY | Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even mouse. Except, of course, the man in the suit. Seokjin Claus was coming to town, and he had more than just milk and cookies left out for him tonight.

↠ RATE | 18+

↠ PAIRING | santa claus!Seokjin x milf!reader

↠ GENRE | holiday, domestic, a twist

↠ WARNINGS | pheww okay a ton of atrocious holiday puns and jokes -__- , a brief mention of Easter Bunny! JK !!, breeding kink, blowjob, deep throating, makeshift glory hole, finger sucking, f!masturbation, slight degradation (only a little), unprotective penetrative sex, creampie, breeding kink, like one spank, mention of plan B (no one’s using it tho)

↠ DRAWING | by heavenshobi

↠ WC | 4.6k

↠ A/N | jin is symptomatic rn and im crying screaming sobbing because we’re going through the same thing but <33 an ode to our december dilf because he deserves all the love right now <3

❅ Holiday in Handcuffs ❅ hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤖ Spaces: A10, B5-D5, C8, F5-F6, G3-J3, H5, J6, H10

The bag of presents fell to the ground with a thump, spilling out under the brightly-lit and highly-decorated Christmas tree. He cursed under his breath at the loud sound–he was usually much more mindful of the children sleeping only a few doors away. It certainly wasn’t his first rodeo.

Shushing the red, velvet bag, he was caught in a staredown between himself and the unassuming sack. Sure it wasn’t going to move another inch, he finally looked away, and turned his attention to more important issues.

The milk and cookies were set out on the desk in the living room. Chocolate chip, his favorite. And fresh out of the oven, if his nose was anything to go by. The aroma wafted up from the plate, and filled the room, mingling with the burning wood of the crackling fire. If only there was peppermint…

Ah. One sip of the cold milk sent a warm feeling down his spine, his eyes closed in joy. The scent tickled the back of his throat in greeting. Peppermint milk. This had to be one of Seokjin’s favorite visits, indeed.

He hummed a christmas tune under his breath as he stuck a cookie into his mouth, busying his hands with digging through the large bag of presents he’d brought with him. Pulling them out one by one, he verified the names on the little tags before arranging them neatly under the tree.

The last one. He added a little blue box on top, completing the stack of presents for the family. Very nice handiwork, if he did say so himself. He stood back, admiring the heartwarming display, and thought about the joy these presents would bring. It’s why his job was so important to him. Nothing matched the look of pure delight and surprise on the childrens’ faces as they tore through their presents, the wrapping clouding around them in a chaotic mess. It was all worth it.

Turning his attention back to his ledger, he fished out his Pilot razor point II pen (a very worthwhile purchase) and ran his eyes down the list. Nice, nice, nice… He checked off the names one by one as he found them. And then he checked it twice.

Just as he was nearing the end of his meticulous list process, sure to have dropped off every present for this residence, and ready to pack up and move on to the next, something caught Seokjin’s eye.

A green box sat unassumingly on the table with a small tag attached to it. Seokjin eyed it curiously. He approached the mysterious thing, poking it from afar with his pen. His eyes narrowed. That one wasn’t his.

There was a name written in calligraphy in beautiful swoops and curves, elegantly perched on the peculiar box. Seokjin caught the paper in his long fingers, the texture smooth under his fingertips. Upon further inspection, Seokjin’s eyebrows furrowed.

Wear Me.

Seokjin looked over his shoulder, almost certain there was someone who would jump out at any moment and claim this as a practical joke. He was sure that something ridiculous would pop out as soon as the wrapping was undone. He could almost hear the taunts now. “I pranked Santa Claus! He’s such a dork!” He wasn’t going to forget that menace, Jungkook, on Easter. Hopping around like he owned the holiday, depositing eggs every which way. ‘Accidentally’ throwing one in his direction with a heads up, hyung! ruining his perfectly coiffed Easter hairstyle.

But there was no one there when he looked back. Just an empty hallway, with the distant sound of a snore. Turning back to the box, he inspected it once more. Seemed harmless enough.

Honestly, he scolded himself, what kind of Christmas spirit are you, scared of a damn present?

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he muttered under his breath about how ridiculous he was being. His hands worked over the box, discarding the wrapping with a few pointed tears.

Pulling the tissue paper out of the box, his hands brushed against something… leather? He pulled the item out of the box, holding it up to examine it fully. Oh. That’s what it meant by ‘wear me.’

Seokjin was looking at a black leather harness, adorned with gold chains near the chest area, and a pectoral frame to boot. There was an extra part attached, dangling down from the torso. His plump lips curved into a smirk as he shook his head in mirth.

Maybe he should’ve put the inhabitant of this house on the naughty list.

But, as Seokjin examined the intricate piece, he decided he was a benevolent man. Instead of replacing her stocking with coal, he shedded the heavy red coat and carefully slipped the harness onto his muscled body. It was a bit of a tight fit getting it on around the shoulders, but he managed.

He had a bit of trouble with the extra part though. It took him a minute to figure out that the leather was supposed to wrap around his thigh. He tightened the straps and clicked the buckle, squeezing his athletic thigh into the garter.

He found a mirror above the fireplace, one where he could examine and admire his reflection to his heart’s content. Adding the Santa hat on top, he completed the ensemble. He twisted and turned to get a good 360 view and he had to say; damn. He looked good.

The chains bounced on his pecs with each turn, the straps of the harness getting tighter as he flexed his muscles. It stretched over the expanse of his back (somehow) and wrapped around his torso, holding his abs in bondage. The leather was thick, strong enough to bound him. His muscles rippled as he posed, turning to the side and admiring himself with one hand under his chin and a raised eyebrow. Seokjin was seriously considering this ensemble as the new Santa outfit.

If he hadn’t been so vivaciously looking into the mirror, Seokjin might have missed the movement through the curtains behind him. The slight ruffle of the cloth, the sound of shuffling near the window. His head whipped back immediately, lips plumped in a confused pout as he examined the offending drapery.

More movement, and a shadow underneath the curtain. But, that wasn’t what caught his attention.

In the intricate, embroidered, clearly imported curtains, there was a giant, gaping hole. And not just any gaping hole. One with a sign above it that read ‘Try me.’

Completely taken aback, he approached the window slowly. The harness was one thing, the garter another. But this? As Santa, Seokjin can’t say he’s ever experienced something like this before. What exactly was it that he would be trying? What did this… hole expect of him?

The answer dawned on him as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Hole. It was a hole after all…

He shook his head to clear it. He must’ve had one too many cookies tonight because his mind was surely playing tricks on him. There was no way there was a strategically placed glory hole in the middle of a family’s living room. There was no way he, Seokjin Claus, was standing in front of an opening that was begging to be stuffed. And certainly, there was no way there was someone on the other side.

More shuffling arose from behind the cloth barrier, the only sound in the serene family room.

Then again. Seokjin looked down at his body. He was wearing a harness and garter… Maybe this hole wasn’t as far-fetched as he’d originally deemed.

Throwing one quick glance behind him, making absolutely sure he was alone in the living room, Seokjin slowly started to unbuckle his pants, hesitantly pushing them down his thighs. They pooled around his ankles, the soft material contrasting against his hard boots.

He eyed the hole, unsure how steady it was, or if it would move if he tried to slide himself into it. He reached over to pull the curtain taut, creating an easy opening for him. Except, his hand was met with something solid on the other side. Or rather, someone.

“Hello?” He called out. He didn’t receive anything in response, only a nudge from behind the curtain where his hand had landed. Seokjin gripped it more tightly, feeling the shape of an ear under his fingertips. That meant, if he trailed his thumb through the hole, he’d find…

Seokjin’s thumb brushed against your lips, your mouth automatically falling open to accommodate him. He ran his finger through, experimentally pushing through into your awaiting mouth. “Aw, are you Santa’s toy? My gift for the holiday?” Well deserved, he thought. About time he received his own Christmas present.

He heard a small whimper from the other side, and a tentative lick to the pad of his finger. He slipped his pointer finger under your chin, closing your mouth comfortably around his finger, nudging you in the right direction. “That’s it.” You took his guidance in stride, wrapping your lips vivaciously around his long finger, giving a loud suck. “My hands have been working hard today. They deserve a break, don’t you think?”

You hummed around his thumb, happily sucking away while he let you. Unable to see your face, your identity, or anything other than that hot, wet mouth you had trapped him in, Seokjin reveled in the sounds you made. He felt the wall of anonymity slowly deteriorate as he internalized those sweet muffled whines and moans you let out, the vibrations traveling through his appendage and sending a warm tingle throughout his whole body.

He contemplated sticking another finger in there, letting you take ‘em two at a time. You’d be begging for his whole hand eventually, he could just tell. But he decided on a different route.

You mewled in frustration as he slowly popped his finger out of your warm mouth, letting your saliva follow him, connecting his thumb to your wet lips. “Drooling all over Santa’s fingers? What am I, a candy cane?” He taunted as he dragged his finger over your cheeks, spreading your own spit all over your face, sweeping from left to right. He couldn’t see the way your eyes shut as his hand got drew closer to your lids, threatening to soil you further. But he felt the way you leaned in to his touch, dying for his mark.

“Dirty,” he chuckled, amusement evident in the way his fingers teased over your lips again. “Giving Santa a package, then begging for Santa’s package. When does a mother even find time to shop for a harness, anyway?”

Of course, Seokjin was smart. He put two and two together, figuring the smaller, more expensive boxes under the tree, next to the ones he’d dropped off for a young boy and girl, had to belong to their guardian. Their mother; an extremely friendly one, no less.

“There’s time if you try hard enough,” came your small voice from the other side of the curtain. Finally, a voice to match your equally debauched actions.

“Oh? And how hard do you try, angel?” Seokjin was extremely curious. And extremely ready to stick his dick in the hole and find out.

“Why don’t you stick your dick in the hole and find out?”

Seokjin couldn’t help but let out a loud, jolly laugh at your words. Tugging his pants down happily, he could help but think about how perfect you seemed to be, though he’d only spent a short amount of time with you. It was like a Christmas miracle.

So, Seokjin chalked it up to that, deciding you were his Christmas angel sent down to give him relief on his big day of the year. And who was he to question it? He was just here to enjoy it. You, and your eager, awaiting mouth.

His cock bounced up as soon as it was free, slapping against his stomach in haste. His hand was quick to wrap around it, tugging the monster down from mid-torso. Veins popping out prominently, matching the ones on his inner arm, trailing down to his hands. He was a veiny guy, what can he say?

He took his time, giving a few strokes of his cock, but he heard you mewl impatiently from behind the curtain. “Someone’s dying to get on the naughty list, huh?” He brushed his thumb, still covered in your saliva, over his tip, already blushed from getting so worked up. Deeming himself ready, he guided himself to the opening you’d made for him, pushing his cock through and past your hungry lips.

He let out a loud groan as you enveloped him into your warm, wet mouth, drooling all over his dick. He heard you let out a little warble as he reached the back of your throat, only halfway in. “Yeah, I know,” he smirked, pushing further, “Ain't no elf about it.” He pushed past your constricting throat, going feeling the way you were threatening to choke around him, until he was bottoming out.

“Such a good Santa’s little helper,” He patted your head through the curtain before retreating, towing his cock out of your throat to only rest it heavily on your tongue. He could feel the heavy breaths you were taking to accommodate for your lack of air two seconds prior, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your lips around him and sucking on the tip. Taking whatever he gave you with fervor.

He was well-endowed, Seokjin knew that. That Santa suit was big for a reason. But he had to admire the way you kept your mouth on him, eagerly ready to keep swallowing him down. No regard for your own lung capacity, or your need to breathe.

He started to push back in, hitting the back of your throat again. He set a steady pace, moving his hips rhythmically as your mouth moved over him in tandem. You were letting out squeaks every time he started to breach a little further down your throat, surprised all over again at his girth. “Fuck, on your knees as soon as you heard Santa was coming to town. Excited for Christmas, I presume?”

You let out a muffled whimper, nodding as much as you could with a mouthful of cock. He laughed at your predicament, only quickening his pace. “Bet you wish you could see me right now.” He snapped the straps of the harness, just to be a fucking tease. “You have good taste, I have to say. I look damn good.”

You let out a moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could just imagine him, all bound in leather straps, the gold chains bouncing off his pecs as he thrust into your mouth. Perfectly accenting the gold hoops you were sure were adorning his ears. Long black hair, shaped into a mullet. Overgown, if you ask some people. Perfect to tug on, if you asked yourself.

You could almost see his thick arms, one clutching the curtain, popping the veins on his inner arm out. The other around your head, holding you steady as he used your mouth for his pleasure. His abs rippling, roughly adorned with his happy trail, as he pushed his monster cock through the barely-large-enough hole. You should have measured better, honestly. What were you thinking? You’d underestimated just how big Seokjin was.

But no matter, he made it work. Didn’t let it stop him from shoving his cock so far down your throat, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes. “Where are your hands, sweetheart?” He asked, petting your head comfortingly through the curtain. “Aren’t you gonna put them to use?”

“T-too big-” You blubbered, coughing as he pulled his cock back from your throat. “You’re too big, i-it won’t fit, sir.”

“Too big? Set this whole thing up, and now you’re whining?” He tsked, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “Suppose I can’t blame you, poor thing. Trimming this tree is no easy feat.” He let out a windshield wiper of a laugh at his own joke, momentarily giving you a second to breathe.

“You were so quick to put me in this outfit.” Seokjin’s voice was losing it’s amusement, reverting back to a more serious and level tone. “What are you wearing back there, angel?”

Of course he’d want to know. A visual creature as ever. And you were dying to tell him. “Red.. lingerie, sir. With a f-fluffy trim…”

Seokjin let out a groan as he pictured it in his head. The sight of you, sitting back there with a Christmas-themed outfit to match his Santa suit. Fuck.

“Touch yourself.” His command was domineering, leaving no room for hesitation. You jumped to do as he said, your hand reaching down between your legs, brushing against the soft lace of your panties. You felt your arousal seep through your panties, drenching them to the touch. Your fingers were met with a soft squish as you pressed against the fabric, your folds flooding in your juices.

“I don’t have all night.” Came Seokjin’s impatient voice from the other side. You quickly dipped your hand into your panties, letting out a moan of relief as your fingers made contact with your hot skin. “Good girl.” Following up the praise with a shove of his cock back into your mouth, now using the image of you getting off on your own fingers to fuel his thrusts.

“Fuck, such a good mouth.” His pace is quicker than before, more frantic. You could tell he was nearing his end. “Fuck yourself on your fingers for me. And make sure to let me hear.”

You whimpered around his cock as you dipped one finger into your sopping hole, a loud squelching sound filling your room. It was lewd and embarrassing, how wet you sounded as you pumped your fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt. Something you knew pleased him.

“How many fingers do you have in there?” He grunted, pushing his tip past your constricting throat muscles, “Two? Three?” He never expected a response from you, pretty much having a conversation with himself at this point. He knew you couldn’t answer, what, with your being busy choking around his cock and all. Humor laced his words, amused at the gagging sounds you made trying to answer him. He heard your fingers go faster, a slick sound accompanying them as you drove them deeper into your pussy.

“You close, baby?” A loud, desperate moan from you answered his question. By the speed of his thrusts, so was he. But he wasn’t about to waste a load in your mouth, no matter how much he wanted you to swallow it. Santa only comes once a year; it’s why his sack is so big. And he needs to make sure his gifts aren’t wasted.

“Get up. And turn around.” He suddenly pulled himself out of your mouth, leaving your throat empty, and your tongue missing the weight of his heavy cock. You were quick to follow his instruction, albeit confused, clumsily rising to your feet and turning away from the glory hole, resting your hands on the windowsill. It was cold to the touch, reminiscent of the frost coating the window pane in beautiful patterns.

“As cute as they are, panties off.” You yelped as you felt a spank to your ass through the curtain, Seokjin’s big hand sure to leave an imprint, even through a cloth barrier. You tugged your panties down quickly, bending over to step out of them.

Seokjin had a different view, though. Cock in his hand, angry and red from being on edge, he stroked it lazily as he watched you fumble behind the curtain. Once you bent over, though, he had a perfect view of your cunt through the small glory hole, all battered from your minstrations earlier, and ready for the taking. The tunnel vision clouded Seokjin’s mind, and before he knew it or realized it, he was gripping your waist with one hand and ramming his cock through, surprising you as he pushed past your barrier with his thick cock.

“What the fuck Seokjin–” Your scream was interrupted as you tried to straighten back up, clutching the windowsill for dear life while he drove his cock into your pussy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just–” He threw his head back, his sentence interrupted with a growl tearing from his throat he felt your wet heat draw him in. So tight and welcoming, how was he expected to hold back? “Just looked so breedable–couldn’t stop–”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he heard your soft gasp as you registered what he said. Despite that, you made no move to stop him. Seokjin was frozen in hesitance, but your lack of rejection inspired a new sense of objective. An end goal, if you will.

The way you clenched tightly around him like a damn piranha only fueled that fire further.

“Oh? You want me to fill you up with my babies, angel?” He chuckles airily at the way you push back into his hips. “Don’t you have enough kids to keep you busy? You want more?”

“Want yours.” You mumble sheepishly, letting him thrust into you sloppily, hoping to get a warm cumload in your belly. You always sleep better that way. “However many you want, I’ll carry them for you.”

Seokjin couldn’t help but smile at your desperate admission. He knew he had you silly on his cock, willing to say whatever to please him. Willing to deliver on it, too. He was fucking you stupid, a mother of two. Your kids fast asleep upstairs, without a clue of who was stuffing their mother’s stocking tonight.

“Guess Santa’s gonna have to make a longer stop here next year.” He plunged his cock into the depths of your hole, the length aiding him in nearing your cervix. You could feel the tip brush against the sensitive opening as he made contact, easily penetrating you to lengths no one else ever has.

“Should I shoot my seed right here?” He groaned, his fingers tightening around your hips. Even through the curtain, you could feel his fingertips digging into your skin, sure to leave bruises you’d find in the morning. “Watch you swell up with my baby. Need an additional stocking this time next year.”

You were struggling to stand upright, legs threatening to buckle under you. And his words weren’t helping. “Please, baby. I want another one by you— please–” Your voice almost sounded pathetic, begging for Santa Claus to impregnate you. You didn’t care, mind hazy with only thoughts of him and his big cock penetrating you. You needed it. “All I want for Christmas is your baby.”

“Fuck, then who would I be if I didn’t deliver?” His hips started snapping into yours at a rapid, frantic pace. Seokjin was dizzy with the need to fill you up, pump you full of his seed and let you swell up with his baby. Determined not to let a single drop go to waste. Maybe, he might even knock you up with twins! At the rate he was going, it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise.

“Ready for a white Christmas?” He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, but he wanted to make sure you came together. Brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, you weren’t far behind him.

“Fuck, yn–I’m—” He tried to warn you, but his orgasm blazed through him before he got the chance. Spurts of white, hot seed erupted from his tip, burying deep in your pussy and coating your walls. Ribbons and ribbons surged, seemingly never ending. He triggered your own orgasm, letting you clench tightly and keep him in with a strong grip as you creamed his cock in return. The most wonderful time of the year, indeed.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin’s voice was breathless as he gave a few last lazy ruts into your soiled heat, making sure his cum was buried deep inside. You were on the verge of collapsing to your knees when he pulled out finally, tucking himself back into his pants.

Feeling the weight of your exertion on you, you were sinking down onto your knees when you suddenly felt the curtain being pulled back, revealing you. Your eyes were wide, like a reindeer in headlights. You finally got the chance to see Seokjin in his full glory, wearing the present you’d gifted him. The harness wrapped around him, small gold chains adorning his heaving pecs. His abs as prominent as ever, his rippling biceps flexed over you. You had to stop yourself from drooling, consciously holding yourself back from asking for another round.

It’s not like Seokjin had it much easier. You were sitting there, tangled up in your own limbs as you stared up at him with the biggest eyes. Adorned in red and white lingerie, matching his suit. Your lips were puffy, covered in saliva from earlier, and cunt was surely battered and leaking from his rough breeding tactic.

You were frozen in spot like that, unsure of who would make the first move. Until Seokjin broke first, a smile starting to spread on his lips.

He reached a hand out to you, to which you took gratefully. Helping you rise to your feet, he pulled you in, bumping you into his chest. He had the biggest goofy smile on his face when he said, “Thank you for my presents, wifey.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up the robe from the couch next to and sliding it over your shoulders. The role play was his idea, sure. But you’d gone along with it without much convincing.

“You’re welcome, Seokjin Claus.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, happiness spreading to every corner of his body.

“Thanks for putting the kids to bed earlier,” he pecked your nose with gratitude.

“Thanks for getting their gifts.” You returned, nodding to the pile under the Christmas tree and the four stockings by the fireplace. Four, one for you, Seokjin, and your two kids. Come next year, four might turn into five though…

“Did you really wanna have another baby, or am I getting Plan B in the morning?” He asked, nudging his nose against yours. His eyes were hopeful, though, tipping you off to what he wanted. Cute.

“I do want another one,” you giggled. “What can I say, my husband makes cute babies. Can’t get enough.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” He smiles smugly, only breaking his composure when you deliver a light slap to his chest.

“Hey,” he catches your wrists, gesturing above the two of you. “Think you owe me something.”

Looking up, you see a little branch of mistletoe, one of many you and your kids had decorated the house with. You shake your head in faux disappointment as you look back at him with a shrug. “Guess I do, unfortunately.”

“Oh? Unfortunately?” His raised eyebrow clued you in to his competitive nature, and he didn’t hesitate to lean in and capture your lips in a heated kiss. “I’ll show you unfortunately.” He mumbled against your lips, his soft, pillowy ones dominating yours easily.

In between the giggles and soft nips, the tongue slipping into your mouth and Seokjin’s hand trailing under your robe, neither of you heard the small pitter patter of footsteps climbing down the stairs. Or sneaking down the hallway towards the living room, excited to catch a glimpse of Santa.

Neither of you were wise to your eldest daughter rounding the living room wall, eyes darting around the room, lighting up once she caught a glimpse of Seokjin’s red hat perched on his head, but lips slowly turning into a frown once she saw what he was doing.

The loud screech broke you two apart, just in time to see your daughter’s hands fly over her eyes, and run back down the hall, screaming, “I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS!!”

☆ m.list ☆ permanent taglist ☆

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

>>...DADDY TAEHYUNG MASTERLIST

an ongoing series of drabbles surrounding dilf!taehyung

# caught

# breeding kink

# pregnancy test

# vacation

> want more dilf content? click here!

| main m.list |

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

>>...DADDY JK MASTERLIST

a series of drabbles surrounding dilf! jungkook

# grocery store

# stairs sex

# smile

# recital

# jealous

# spoiled

# parent-teacher conference

# conception

# vacation

# blow dryer

# drawings

> want more dilf content? click here!

| main m.list |

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

>>...DADDY JK MASTERLIST

a series of drabbles surrounding dilf! jungkook

# grocery store

# stairs sex

# smile

# recital

# jealous

# spoiled

# parent-teacher conference

# conception

# vacation

# blow dryer

# drawings

> want more dilf content? click here!

| main m.list |

Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.

[kimnjssrecs]

smokescreen (sneak peek)

banner by: @dee-ehn

🖇 synopsis:

— don’t judge a book by its cover. unless the book is a six foot tall, dimpled muscle pig who has no problem bragging about the notches on his belt… not to mention his new unhinged determination to add you to the list.

pairing: rapper!namjoon x photographer!reader

fic type: social media au

side ships: yoonmin!! 2seok.

genre: smut!! idol au, enemies to lovers, boss/employee. angst… maybe

warnings: namjoon is a raging asshole and 100% fictional! i’m sure the real kim namjoon is a sweetheart - just not this one.

updates: everyday!

coming: february 21st!

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[kimnjssrecs]

First Love, Last Love (M)

title: first love, last love posted: january 19th, 2021, 7pm est pairing: bad boy pianist!yoongi x university!reader(f) genre: angst, smut; opposites to lovers, high school/university au summary: after the most pivotal moment in your life, you never thought you would ever see him again. years later, you cross paths in the last place you ever imagined him to be. was this the universe giving you a second chance? or were you destined to repeat the same mistakes you fought hard to forget? warnings: alcohol, house parties, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, choking, hair-pulling, oral (m/f rec), fingering, penetration, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, gagging with a tie, creampie, nipple play, public sex (kinda?), edging, denied orgasms, doggy-style, cowgirl, overstimulation, min yoongi in mf general notes: thank you to @sketchguk, @softyoongiionly, and @yoonjinkooked (and honestly the rest of the @bangtansorciere network) for being incredible hype ppl! and @bangtantaegi​ this is filthy yoongi smut, what can i say?? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ ao3 word count: 33.5k !! (omg i am so sorry, you can yell at me)

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What does it look like when an artist’s passion dies? 

You imagined an unfinished painting, the canvas collecting dust in a corner amongst rusting paint pots and hardened brushes. Or an abandoned instrument case shoved into the back of a closet, sheet music stuffed in binders stuffed in boxes stuffed in the attic. The arts no longer spoke, danced, comforted. What was once a technicolor ocean of imagination now resembled an ugly, dried sludge of doubts and fears and excuses to find another path. Society’s standard path. One with a more stable lifestyle and greater number of career choices. 

No matter what you pictured, it was nothing compared to what you were witnessing. The world before you swam in your vision: the imposing, dark monster of a grand piano swallowing its prey whole. And the victim didn’t fight back - not even for a moment. They let it consume them under the blinding spotlight, a feasting on full display. They knew this was the close, proverbial wings folding around their slumped form in surrender.

The entire room held its breath, but inside you a storm raged so harshly that you wouldn’t be surprised if people could hear your thundering pleas. 

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[kimnjssrecs]

hush, yeah? (m) | kth | masterlist

series: hush, yeah? (m) pairing: taehyung x reader(f) genre: brother’s best friend au, music festival au ; smut summary: who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty.. warnings: multiple smut scenes, tension, taehyung is an asshole, big dick tae wbk, slight angst later, but this really is just smut and tae being a tease lol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

taglist (18+ only):  ⇥ anonymous form, no emails collected  ⇥ optional teaser with every upcoming update  ⇥ HERE  feedback box:  ⇥ anonymous form, no emails collected ⇥ any feedback you’d like to give/say/yell!  ⇥ HERE 

other links: masterlist 

[kimnjssrecs]

oh my god!? no bc i have no words???? 😳 this was too good nd i literally cannot stress this enough??? y’all gotta read this one fr

three tangerines (m) | myg

title: three tangerines pairing: yoongi x reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart. (loosely based off one part of “the window” by silvershine) warnings: pov switch (just one), age gap implied, cursing, dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, thigh riding, oral (m/f rec), sl*t/wh*re mentions, spanking, size kink, hand kink, pussy slapping, penetration, protected sex, rough sex, fingering, breast play, slight ass play, daechwita yoongi should be a warning in itself.. i think that’s it? he keeps the chains on so there’s that, too lmao note: this is a super late birthday present for the wonderful @sketchguk​ <3 ily, teresa and i hope you have fun with this one lololol. and thank you endlessly to @taesinferno​ @chateautae​ and @lavienjin for being angel betas! you all mean the world to me and you know i got you if you need anything in return. note 2: ALSO.. thank you all so much for the level of interest bc that taglist was popping. i did not expect that turnout (or to laugh so much at all of your answers and screams LOL) so you gave me incredible motivation to keep writing. i’m also trying something new which you will see if you get to the end. seriously, ty ty!  total word count: 12k drop date: november 16th, 2021, 7:17pm est 20/11/2021 update: also posted on ao3

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When Yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind.

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