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an unceremonious boom echoes as jeongguk kicks the door shut behind him. 

he hisses and mutters fuck under his breath. has their front door always been so fucking loud? 

jeongguk sways as he stumbles into the foyer, but with another couple of unsteady steps, he finds the staircase’s railing and clings to it as he catches his breath. he notices as he bends over, the sight of his polished, black leather shoes below is blurred. he can barely move his head another inch without his body protesting. 

and everything is spinning. the air, the hardwood floors, the ceiling above. and god, jeongguk is so, so drunk. 

he groans as another wave of pain shoots to his temples. he closes his eyes in effort to gather himself, but he just wobbles clumsily to the first step. jeongguk’s knuckles turn white with how much tighter he clutches the railing beside him. for a moment, each one of his muscles weighs a hundred pounds. 

breathe. just breathe, jeongguk tells himself. and he does, he makes the effort to take a deep inhale and  long exhale, but, stubbornly, it barely makes him feel better.

he’s so fucking wasted. undeniably trashed. 

he wonders how it came to this. jeongguk barely remembers the past few hours. he guesses there may only be ten whole minutes this evening he’s able to recount. the last thing he remembers is his boss and coworkers inviting him out to the bar to celebrate his long-awaited promotion. someone must’ve driven him home, but who exactly, could be anyone. jeongguk desperately hopes it wasn’t his boss. he doesn’t think he can handle the embarrassment right now.

regardless, jeongguk’s thankful to be home safe and sound even if his pulse is pounding in his ears and there’s a sharp pressure hammering behind his eyelids. another groan slips as he blindly clambers closer to the railing, heaving his full weight against its structure as he takes another shaky step up the staircase. 

certainly it’s been twenty years since he’d drank like this. it must be the first time he’s lost any sense of control since his uni frat days. and he remembers why he hasn’t, of course, as his stomach garbles on cue from the countless glasses of soju he threw back in the name of victory and a fatter paycheck. 

god, he needs to get to bed. he needs to lay next to his wife, to pull her close, and to sleep his misery away. damn brushing his teeth. right now, the task seems impossible. 

after a few more minutes of practiced breaths and debating just passing out on the stairs (surely it couldn’t be the least comfortable place to sleep the more he considers it), jeongguk musters the strength to follow through. his feet drag while he grumbles, cursing himself for buying a house with so many fucking stairs. jeongguk grits his teeth and regrets how he allowed his wife to talk him into the damned purchase. 

it’s a pleasant surprise when he makes it to the top of the stairs, successfully avoiding a misstep that surely would’ve resulted in him tumbling down to his untimely death. 

as soon as he steps in the direction of his bedroom, a sudden, pulsing ache spikes behind his eyelids. jeongguk winces, grasping at the wall for leverage. he doesn’t get a great hold, there’s nothing there but a flat surface and he’s still a bit too shaky on his feet. his palm slips and his shoulder ends up knocking into the plaster too boisterous for his liking. he makes a pitiful groan into the wall and blinks drowsily. the journey down the near pitch black corridor in front of him seems miles fucking long. 

yeah, he’s never drinking this much again. 

after another minute of wallowing in self pity, he staggers forward again and sooner than he expected, he finds a familiar door handle. jeongguk pushes down and nearly loses his balance altogether as the door swings open with his dead weight. luckily, he catches himself and tries his best to close it behind him as quietly as possible. as soon as it clicks shut, jeongguk claws at his clothes and toes off his shoes. it takes him longer than he’d like to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, but he’d prefer not to fall over and risk getting a head injury at the moment. he discards the button down and tie carelessly. he’ll put them away in the morning. right now, the thing he needs most is to be laying vertical. 

he shuffles to the edge of the mattress and spots his wife’s lithe, sleeping form. the iridescent moonlight filtering through the curtains highlights where the cotton sheets have fallen low enough for jeongguk to receive a dizzy eye-full of the baby-pink silk pajama set clinging to her soft curves. the material has ridden up to expose the bottom of her perky-round asscheeks, the sliver of skin tempting him with its buttery-soft appearance. 

usually, jeongguk wouldn’t be able to manage getting it up after he’s drunk this much. hell, he doesn’t even attempt to, but something about her sleeping so innocently while inadvertently seducing him has jeongguk clumsily tugging at his zipper, stepping out of his pants. he palms himself over his briefs for a moment, admiring her slender back and soft the dip at the base of her spine that curves into the round shape of her ass. 

once jeongguk’s fully erect and finally slips into bed, he navigates the skin of her nape with his nose, nuzzling up the slope until he discovers the strands of hair there. sniffing her short, silky locks, jeongguk takes a lengthy inhale of savory-sweet, peach shampoo. 

hm, she must’ve bought a different brand this time. 

his blood-fat cock pulsates where it has remained trapped, hips subconsciously rocking forward to seek friction. when he finds what he’s looking for, slipping between the mounds of her asscheeks, jeongguk exhales a shaky breath. 

god, he missed this. it’s been too long since he’s gotten off and way too fucking long since he’s had the chance to appreciate all his wife’s body has to offer.

noticing his own sluggish blinks and the increasing weight of his muscles, he resists wasting any more time.

shifting, jeongguk tugs his rock-hard cock from his briefs. he clips the elastic band beneath his taut, semen-full balls and with an eager fist, jeongguk tugs his erection while the other slips and sneaks past the band of his wife’s shorts. he finds the bare shape of her plump asscheek and squeezes it within his palm. she doesn’t stir. he can only hear her deep breaths resounding in the quiet room.

and fortunately, jeongguk’s lucid enough to remember he should be careful. he can’t be too rough. after all, his wife has to leave early in the morning to visit her parents, but he just can’t stop groping her ass. the fat is dangerously soft and supple. his fingertips instinctively dig rougher with his appreciation. 

and now that he’s thinking about it, her ass seems plumper than he remembers, and their bed seems a tad smaller, but jeongguk’s vision remains spinning a bit too much for him to identify any glaring red flags. plus, at this point, he doesn’t have it in himself to give a fuck. 

he desperately needs to get his dick wet. 

so he pushes any reservation to the back of his mind and decides to draw the pesky pair of shorts down until they’re tucked just below the swell of her asscheeks. he spits on his fingers, rubbing the excess across the head of his cock. his impatience has him splitting her thighs wider, digits returning to reach in between and under, pulling her lacy panties to the side and exposing her warm pussy. 

as carefully as possible, jeongguk takes the time to place tender kisses along the column of her slender neck -- albeit a bit sloppy due to his current state. the mushroom tip snags on her slippery rim as he searches for his cock beneath the maze of sheets and in between her thighs to aim more confidently. he bucks forward and slips inside without any real resistance. 

in seconds, he’s buried within creamy, satin-white heat — and something — something is noticeably off. 

his wife never gets this wet this easily. the observation leaves jeongguk momentarily puzzled. it doesn’t make much sense considering he hadn’t really touched her beforehand. it usually takes him some time to get her worked up and he’s okay with that — but tonight — fuck, she’s dripping for it. he can feel the trickle of pussy slick down his balls already, the tacky sheen evident along the skin of her inner thighs. 

for a moment, despite his cock throbbing with every sweet squeeze molding around him, jeongguk wonders if she predicted this would happen. but, then again, his mind argues, it’s not likely she would prepare herself for him knowing he’d gone out drinking. jeongguk isn’t given more time to contemplate because just then a small mewl vibrates low at the back of her throat. jeongguk’s wayward attention is captured again as she rocks her ass back against him. 

she whines and whimpers as if questioning why he hasn’t moved. as if begging for more. 

jeongguk fully welcomes this needy side of his wife. winding an arm around her slim waist, his palm slips beneath her tank top in a slithering creep to cup and fondle the luscious fat of a breast as he jerks his hips once, grinding deeper. and god, she’s suffocatingly tight; heavenly, smooth-silky walls effortlessly forming to the shape of his cock. 

and quickly, jeongguk sets a mindless pace. 

the entire time he’s fucking her, his wife keeps making these adorable, high-pitched whines and breathy moans he doesn’t remember her ever making, but she sounds so fucking sexy to him at the moment, it riles jeongguk’s horniness impossibly more. 

she gasps with his uncontrollable strokes sliding deeper, the quiet squelches of her pussy lewd enough to make jeongguk’s cock throb and his neck veins bulge. he catches the obscene whimper she lets slip out just before blunt nails scratch the skin of his forearm sealed around her torso to keep her in place. her shapely ass ruts backward to match the growing-erratic pace the best she can; delicious, slippery-wet pussy clenching tighter.

blood pulsates magma-hot through his veins and jeongguk only grows rougher, more encouraged. pinching and rolling her stiff nipples, he mouths and kisses over the expanse of her bare, sparsely freckled shoulder. he tugs and twists until her nipples feel noticeably puffier, saliva rapidly forming from the urge to wrap his lips around one and suck.

“s’fucking tight,” jeongguk slurs, hips snapping quicker. his cock pivots deeper in warm, soppy-wet heat as his release coils tighter and tighter within his gut. 

but then his wife abruptly seizes, body jerking within his hold. she orgasms, a hot splash squirting out and drenching the sheets below and dripping to his ballsac. she drinks in frantic gasps of breath, shuddering with the after-shock jolts of pleasure as it ebbs. 

and the shock of his wife squirting around his cock, (she rarely does that nowadays), combined with her frenzied, squeeze-spasms, trips jeongguk off of the cliff-edge. his rhythm coarsens to something wild, pure adrenaline and his own impending orgasm lacing his short, rough strokes. 

euphoria explodes from his center as he unloads every drop, painting those searing hot, silky walls. he buries his groan into the crevice of her warm neck. his pace stutters as he rides out his much-needed orgasm, shaft twitching and tip spurting with the last of it. 

“fuck, baby,” jeongguk sighs deeply, relieved. when he draws out, she whines behind her closed lips; his fingers gravitating to the gooey wet mess spilled between her thighs. petting between her gooey-soft folds, jeongguk thoroughly rubs his release there, bathing her silky, sticky vulva with his claim. he’s always been a dog. “it was that goo’ f’you, huh?” 

abruptly, his wife stiffens, statue-still. jeongguk places a gentle kiss to her shoulder again, clumsily brushing her strands away in the dark in an effort to soothe whatever has bothered her. 

he cuddles closer, eyes fluttering shut with a crashing wave of irresistible fatigue. 

𖦹𖦹𖦹

a flood of hot, salty tears of disbelief blurs jimin’s vision. 

it couldn’t be. 

it couldn’t be that the voice behind him, the voice that belongs to the person who just fucked and creampied his pussy raw did not belong to his boyfriend, but to his fucking biological father. 

he’s not brave enough to peek over and confirm. instead, jimin continues to lie there, frozen and wide-eyed, in his pitch-black bedroom while his daddy’s recognizable breaths even out into slumber. the shock to his system is the only thing that pushes jimin from his stupor long enough to finally notice the traceable scent of alcohol. 

and jimin curls his fists, clutching his bed sheets to his chest. they have both made a huge mistake. a mistake so colossal jimin’s not sure how he’s supposed to live another day. 

because fuck fuck fuck. what the fuck?

how could his daddy do this? how could he not have noticed it was not his wife’s bed he’d crawled into nor his wife’s pussy he just fucked?

a swarm of guilt worms through his chest and drops to his gut. 

jimin hadn’t exactly noticed, either. 

admittedly, being fucked awake wasn’t exactly something jimin was unfamiliar with. his older boyfriend, hyungsik, regularly snuck into his room through the unlatched window and slipped into his bed in the name of spicing up their sex life with sneaky rendezvouses — all because jimin’s daddy is strict, and he, shamefully, gets off on the thrill of having to be quiet.

but jimin’s not the one responsible for this! 

regardless, when jimin had awoken during the early hours of the morning, he never thought anything of it. he’d played with himself before going to sleep, as he did most evenings, and even preferred to be in a half-groggy state while being fucked. 

but if he’d just been good and hadn’t been rebellious, jimin would’ve known something wasn’t right. he would’ve quickly put a stop to what was happening. if he hadn’t been so careless, he would’ve been able to register how different his boyfriend’s touch felt. how calloused the hands kneading his breasts were, kneading in a way that spelled unusually unruly. how unfamiliar the set of teeth scraping against his throat were and the pair of lips traveling to capture the shell of his ear; how much bigger his boyfriend’s cock seemed, stretching his pussy wider, bulbous tip knocking bluntly at his cervix; the absence of dirty-talk filling his ear, telling jimin how naughty he is, how tight and perfect his sweet little pussy feels wrapped around his cock. 

but jimin couldn’t bring himself to stop and think to consider such differences. not when he was getting fucked so good, mind skewed by the grind of muscled hips and the smack of a toned pelvis to his backside with each womb-deep thrust and the quiet growls vibrating next to the shell of his ear.

and wait — what is he thinking? 

this is his father jimin is talking about! he can’t think things like that. it’s disgusting. reprehensible. 

it’s disgraceful. 

what he should be doing is searching for a way to fix the dirty, fucked-up mess he’s been dropped in. 

it’s safe to say jimin doesn’t sleep the rest of the night. in fact, he doesn’t move a muscle until the light outside of his window turns a warmer shade of blue with the dawn.

and only then does jimin realize he’d spent the night deliberating, ruffling through everything he could or should do, and internally running in circles over every bad thing that could surely result from this — divorce, separation, embarrassment, humiliation — and jimin still doesn’t come to a concrete, viable solution. 

the clawing, closing-in sense of panic has muddied any chance of jimin grasping a rational thought. 

the only option he sees as viable is to block it out. 

everything. 

and to avoid, avoid, avoid. 

𖦹𖦹𖦹

jeongguk has just made the biggest mistake of his life. he thought accidentally forgetting his tenth wedding anniversary and inadvertently ghosting his wife for their reservation at a classy restaurant was bad enough.

that pales in comparison.

roused from his slumber, he realized just how unforgivable the mistake he’d made was.

disgust chokes jeongguk’s lungs as he scans the bedroom he’s found himself in: the familiar, painted-pink walls with soft fairy lights he’d strung up himself. the strawberry-print bed sheets pooled around his waist. the cluster of polaroids stuck to the wall with short pieces of tape.

shit.

the tang of revulsion pales within the sense of cluelessness rushing in after it. the utter confusion of fixing this — how to reconcile, how to address this in a responsible manner and the dilemma of confessing and facing divorce or staying silent from the unadulterated shame — threatens to shatter his sanity.

him and jimin promptly avoid each other in the house at all costs. 

he seriously debates approaching jimin to apologize. debates falling to his knees and asking what he could do to be forgiven but jeongguk — 

he’s a fucking coward. 

not an ounce of courage could be mustered to face his own son for the atrocity he’d committed. if jeongguk could, it would mean he was ready to acknowledge the crime. 

and he wasn’t. because then it’d be real. it would mean the entire thing wasn’t a fucked-up nightmare and he’d actually have to suffer the consequences he’s already spent hours working himself up over.  

even if jeongguk was prepared for it, it’s not as though jimin would be giving him the chance to patch up this mess anytime soon considering jimin has made a point to avoid any and all eye contact whatsoever. every room he enters, jimin makes for a quick exit. he can’t stand to be in the same vicinity as his father. he’s barely left his bedroom for the past week aside from grabbing food from the kitchen or slipping out to attend class.

unfortunately, jimin’s mother picks up on the undeniable tension grown between them one night as the three of them are sitting at the dinner table. beside him, jimin chews slowly, fork scraping against the plate in front of him. he hasn’t looked up from it since they sat down half an hour ago.

“is there something wrong, sweetie?” she speaks up, voice tender and motherly.

jimin perks up in his seat, but shifts uncomfortably in his chair. 

“n-no. no,” he answers unsurely, gaze shifting toward jeongguk who’s already looking back. his doe-eyed innocent expression twists to something more stern in an effort to hide the panic suddenly swirling in his chest. jimin quickly diverts to his mother. “nothing’s wrong,” he adds sheepishly. 

she hums, lips pursed to the side. jimin doesn’t make another attempt to excuse his odd behavior. there’s not one reasonable explanation he can conjure at the moment and honestly, he doesn’t trust himself not to trip over his words. to risk his mother discovering the truth is not a risk jimin is willing to take. so for now, jimin decides it’s best to stay quiet and play dumb.

“jeongguk,” she turns in her seat. he flinches, surprised at being brazenly addressed. wary, she scans his rigid posture. “what did you say to our jiminie? what did you do?” 

jeongguk goes wide-eyed at the accusation. 

“i — w-what? i didn’t do — i didn’t say anything,” he stutters defensively. she cocks an eyebrow at him, the familiar, nonverbal cue that tells him she doesn’t believe his bullshit. for a second, he hastily searches his brain for something to cling to, something reasonable, something believable —

but nothing materializes.  

with a sigh, jeongguk sets his fork beside his half-eaten plate. he doesn’t make an improved attempt to explain and instead, swallows the lump in his throat and shrugs his shoulders as a cop-out. 

“well, something must’ve happened,” she insists after a pause, crossing her arms over her chest. her concerned gaze flits back and forth between the two of them, stiff and awkward beneath her scrutiny. she leans back in her chair. “from what i’ve seen, you two haven’t spoken a word to each other for the past week.” 

chewing his lip, jimin’s chin dips toward his lap. their lack of any communication would be bizarre from an outsider’s perspective, he guesses. he and his daddy have always been quite close. in fact, it’d be weirder if his mother didn’t say anything about their stiff interactions, but that doesn’t provide any relief in this case. 

when he chances a glance at his father, jimin can practically hear the thousands of anxious thoughts ricocheting within his skull. he’s gone blank from the strain of finding something to say and jeongguk realizes he just has to be the one to step up here. he needs to spit it out, spit something out, to rid her of any semblance of suspicion. for the evening, at least. jimin obviously isn’t going to try. 

 “yes, we have,” he insists, not so smoothly laughing her off. “what are you talking about?” 

jeongguk slings a confident arm around jimin’s shoulders and tugs him into a side embrace. jimin awkwardly leans into it, and he slaps on a smile. a fake one, jeongguk brain supplies, from the noticeably absent sparkle from his pearly teeth. “we’re just fine,” jeongguk assures. he turns toward jimin and ruffles the top of his blonde head. “isn’t that right, angel?” 

“y-yeah,” jimin tries, poorly reassuring according to his mother’s piqued eyebrow. he clears his throat and nods his head for emphasis. “daddy and i — we’re fine!” 

his mother clicks her tongue, unswayed.

to seal the deal, jeongguk decides to turn and plant a kiss on the apple of jimin’s cheek, but he happens to spot the poorly concealed recoil his son makes. it stings, fresh and tormenting. he’s aware what he did was beyond the definition of wrong and he has no one but to blame but himself, but the rejection carves through his gut. 

a part of jeongguk wants to beg jimin to look at him — just once — to confirm that somehow somewhere there remains even just a seed of hope he could redeem himself and jimin wouldn’t hate him forever. 

nonetheless, he resists. his jaw tightens, and he holds to the grin masking the inner chaos bubbling inside once again. 

and despite their rather unpersuasive act, his wife eventually appears to buy it. as soon as she changes the topic, ranting about whatever happened at work that day, stress begins to slowly ooze from his pores. his shoulders are able to relax. he just needs to be careful. 

they need to be careful going forward. 

but the rest of the evening reeks of surface level conversation and the underlying, colossal secret plaguing them both hangs palpably in the air.

jeongguk doesn’t finish his dinner. 

𖦹𖦹𖦹

the sound of light footsteps trickling down the staircase are what stirs jeongguk awake. groggy, his eyes blink open and discovers he’s still on the sofa where he’d taken a late night television-induced nap. 

another trail of footsteps jolt him from the dreamy haze he’d momentarily been submerged within. 

through the dim haze of the artificial blue-light within the dim room, he spots the shape of a person in the foyer.

metallic keys clink together as they wrestle with fitting the right key in the door’s lock.

jimin. 

and even beneath the insufficient lighting, it’s clear as day what he’s wearing. a miserably short denim skirt, a form-fitting, long sleeve crop top fitted over the gentle swell of his breasts, and knee high stockings paired with sneakers. 

jeongguk’s heart skips.

“jimin-ah,” he calls roughly, sitting up. the blanket over his lap falls to the ground, unnoticed. “where — where are you going this late?” 

he must not have not been expecting jeongguk to be awake with the small jump he makes and since it’s evident jimin didn’t anticipate being caught, now all jeongguk can think about is where he plans to go and who he plans to meet in — that outfit.

his small palm curls around the door knob, gaze stuck to it like it’s the most interesting object in the world. 

“out,” jimin mutters after a silent pause.

jeongguk glances at the clock above their fireplace. 

“it’s already midnight. you don’t need to be going out.” he advises lazily, and leans back, ready to melt back into the sofa. “now go back upstairs.” 

jeongguk closes his eyes again, prepared for jimin to obey and return to his previous uninterrupted slumber. 

that doesn’t happen. 

“no.” 

when he opens his eyes this time, jimin has fully turned toward him. he’s standing in the doorway, bravely glaring with a roaring fire of determination. it’s an expression jeongguk’s never witnessed before. jimin’s even planted his feet and straightened his spine to appear taller. jeongguk wonders if this is some ridiculous intimidation tactic he read about online.

“no?” jeongguk parrots cooly, an eyebrow piqued in interest. he can’t help but be slightly amused by jimin’s sudden spirit of rebellion. he sighs. “and what do you mean by ‘no’?” 

“i mean no,” jimin reiterates coldly, hands poised on his shapely hips. “i’m going out whether you like it or not.” 

and the unruly, monotonic tone and stubborn stance of his feet finally catches up to jeongguk’s sleep-muddled brain. swiftly, he gets on his own two feet and poorly stifles the cocky grin forming when jimin’s hardened expression cracks, albeit momentarily, with a dose of healthy fear. 

with calculated steps, jeongguk makes a path to the other side of the room and stops a few feet away from jimin.

“and since when did you come to the conclusion you can just do whatever the fuck you want?”  

jimin’s mouth parts, shocked at his daddy’s tone. jeongguk’s not sure of the reason. what exactly was jimin expecting with that attitude?

his hands fall from their pose on his hips but then quickly return as if he’s debating how he should stand and what he should say next. it’s kind of cute, jeongguk reasons — or rather, it would be cute if jimin’s intent wasn’t to disrespect his authority. 

when jimin finally meets his gaze, his gaze is wilder. 

dangerous. 

harrowing. 

“since you fucked me thinking i was mom,” jimin snarls through his teeth. “that’s when.” 

and that’s fucking it. 

“watch your fucking mouth,” jeongguk growls back and before he can get ahold of himself, he’s reached out and trapped jimin’s jaw between his thumb and fingers. they dig into the soft skin until jimin visibly grimaces. 

he almost feels bad for it — almost — but the guilt fades as he’s reminded his own fuck-up is being rubbed in his face and is being used as an excuse for jimin to indulge in his own antics. it all leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

this is not his jimin.

“trying to blackmail your own father now, huh?” jeongguk rebuts, harsh and quiet. jimin squirms, failing to escape the tightening grip. he attempts to smack his hand away, but jeongguk catches him by the wrist mid-air. this close, jeongguk is helpless but to notice the nervous, dewy sheen collected on jimin’s blushed cheeks and the tremble of his plush lips. “gotta say, didn’t expect that one.” 

jimin decides to remain quiet. only heavy, slighted breaths leave through his nostrils.

and truth be told, jeongguk’s feeling a bit resentful at the moment. 

resentful of his initial mistake. 

resentful of jimin’s unfathomable beauty. 

resentful of the persistent desire to have jimin in such a disgusting way. 

resentful of how far he’s allowed himself to fall within an abyss of lust that it's cost him his fucking morals. 

and as fast as the resentment arrived, it’s overcome by the overwhelming need for revenge. the need to level the playing field. 

he smirks. “did you forget that you weren’t exactly honest either, baby doll?” 

he’s got jimin cornered against the door, mean fingers shaped around the curve of his chin in a hold so strict there’s no misinterpreting what it means. 

don’t test me.

“doesn’t matter,” jimin manages to spit, but he sounds considerably less confident. what doesn’t falter is their tense, unwavering eye contact jeongguk’s victim to enjoying the longer it endures. “she’ll hate you, not me.” 

oh?

“not if i tell her how eager you were for it,” jeongguk whispers boldly, the hard line of his chest making contact with jimin’s daintier one. a shaky exhale slips from jimin’s open mouth and ghost across his lips, spurring a fire-like trail through his veins. power is racing to jeongguk’s head. “how you didn’t even question it,” he continues casually. “you didn’t even try to stop me. at least i have the excuse of being intoxicated. what’s yours?” 

with a huff of frustration, jimin wriggles beneath the press of jeongguk’s imposing frame. the question must bother him considering it’s the one jimin breaks eye contact to glare at jeongguk’s chest. his lips are pressed in a straight line, a few unruly strands of blonde hair falling into his shimmer-shadowed eyes.

but jeongguk corrects his gaze, prompted by a boost of spite and arousal. he guides jimin by the chin to rekindle their gazes and when jimin peers at him, god, he really is so small. so fragile. 

who does he think he is?

jeongguk’s other hand finds the slope of his slender, naked hip, and the glimmer of indignation reflecting from jimin’s chocolate brown eyes is something jeongguk prefers to trample for good. 

“got nothing to say for yourself?” he pokes with a humorless laugh, mouth but an inch from his. a growl of irritation rumbles from the depth of jimin’s chest. “hm?”

laughably weak palms fly to jeongguk’s chest as one last effort to push him away, but jeongguk never sways. his hold only fastens; sharp nails cutting into the bare skin of jimin’s hip.

“you really don’t think i know all about your little boyfriend coming into your room at night?” jeongguk chuckles darkly, tongue swiping along the top row of his teeth. 

he’s been caught red-handed. jimin’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and jeongguk smirks from the deepened blush singing the tips of his ears. his mouth drops open, stuttering useless, incoherent excuses. jimin thought he’d been careful.

“is that who you were planning to run off to tonight?” jeongguk shakes him by the chin. “back to him?” they’re breathing the same air. the larger curve of his nose bumps jimin’s gentler one. “are you that desperate for cock, princess?”  

with a delayed scoff, jimin stammers. “oh, fuck off. you’re so — you’re so rude. you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

the attempt of deflection predictably has no effect and jimin’s gaze betrays him as it flies to the distraction that is his daddy’s encroaching mouth. subconsciously, his own soft, pink tongue peeks out to run across the plump bow of his bottom lip. the added layer of saliva emphasizes the specks of glitter embedded in his lip gloss and jeongguk briefly wonders if the gloss is flavored. 

instead, he leans in close, just aside jimin’s ear and whispers, “oh, but i do, you see. i know a lot of things… like how you liked my cock better than his. in fact, you loved it.” 

and jeongguk was mostly bluffing, spitting out the nastiest thing he could think of but with jimin’s returned silence instead of hasty denial, the confirmation has his cock growing behind his zipper.

suddenly, a lightheadedness invades jimin’s skull. they’re both panting like they’ve both ran a mile, lungs caught in a rapid inflating-deflating with the need for oxygen. each shared breath is damp and heavy and alluring. a string has been tied between them. it tugs them closer and closer. 

the luscious skin of jimin’s bowed top lip grazes jeongguk’s lower one; eyes searching one another’s for a clue, for a reason, for an inkling as to what it is that has built between them. 

there’s no suitable explanation.

his lips greet jimin’s before the reality of his own words can fully register. their mouths slot together like the missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and jimin’s fingers twist within the material of his wrinkled dress shirt to cling purposefully. the ounce of restraint jeongguk possessed disintegrates to ash as he licks into jimin’s parted, wanton mouth. a lethal dose of lust shoots to his abdomen. his palms eagerly race downward to grab the swell of jimin’s pert asscheeks.

when met with no resistance, jeongguk takes the chance to suckle his lolled, silk-soft tongue as he fondles earnestly. the whimpers jimin graciously doesn’t spare from hiding reminds jeongguk of how distinct and addicting the sounds of his pleasure are. the desire to claim scorches through his veins as jimin reciprocates the kiss like a damsel whore in distress: open-mouthed with dirty finesse and short, heaving breaths. finding and squeezing jimin’s bare, doughy-fat ass beneath the hem of his skirt, he groans whole heartedly into the kiss. god, he missed this. thought there’d never be another chance. he shouldn’t want one for fuck’s sake.

but it’s exactly the thing that leads to his downfall.

jimin pushes him off — way too fucking soon, in jeongguk’s opinion.

all at once, he twists and breaks free as if struck with reality in the form of lightning. jimin escapes through the same door he’d been manhandled against. 

jeongguk stares blankly at the door slammed in his face. the sticky residue of strawberry flavored lip gloss and his leaking erection are the only evidence that, no, he didn’t just imagine that.

𖦹

the door clicks shut behind them, the music blasting from the stereo downstairs muted by its buffer. 

“why’d y’drag me in ‘ere?” hyungsik slurs, catching jimin by the waist. he sways, his alcohol-induced imbalance prompting him to nuzzle in the crook of jimin’s neck. he makes a small groan of pain and adds, “ugh, my head hurts.”

jimin sighs. “come on. sober up,” he demands gently. he turns in hyungsik’s embrace and carefully, but pointedly, smacks his cheek to wake him up. hyungsik’s heavy eyelids blink open, gaze focusing in on jimin’s face. 

then, he smiles. 

“i wanna, baby,” he whines with a pout. “but you gotta help me.” 

jimin rolls his eyes. 

tonight is not going as planned. 

when he arrived, hyungsik had just finished his fifth beer of the night. jimin couldn’t help but pout. hyungsik promised not to start drinking until jimin showed up.

it’s not like this was the first time hyungsik did something like this and honestly, jimin didn’t have it in him to lecture his boyfriend about keeping simple promises. 

the sole objective in his mind was to forget. 

and jimin did forget for a while, being surrounded by their uni friends. they danced and grinded and laughed until their sides ached. he knocked back a couple of shots in between the upbeat songs. they played a drinking game or two. 

and when the evening inevitably transitioned into the early morning hours, jimin looked forward to his and hyungsik’s routine at every house party they attended. 

jimin had initially dragged hyungsik into a random bedroom upstairs in hopes of a secret rendezvous, but the longer he tries to keep his inebriated boyfriend from falling on his face, it’s apparent hyungsik likely won’t be feeling up to it. 

that’s not going to do. desperation has already crept in and jimin needs a distraction or else he’ll fucking explode. on top of everything else, it’s been a week since they last had sex. these past seven days have felt like a lifetime, especially with the unspeakable things that have unfolded between him and his father. 

jimin can’t exactly have hyungsik sneak through his window and fuck him again. the sacrality of his bedroom has irreversibly been tainted by the incident. 

so jimin feeds hyungsik two glasses of water, a painkiller, and patiently waits for him to sober up. he has hyungsik lay down on the mattress and crawls over him to exchange soft murmurs and savory kisses and it’s nice.

but when they have sex, it’s not the same. 

it’s not at all what jimin expected or wanted. 

he tries closing his eyes and coaches himself to stay focused on the present. 

that wasn’t working. 

incessant images of his father and the sound of his groans pester him.

then, jimin decides to keep his eyes open. maybe it’ll be easier to distract himself if he can see hyungsik’s face. 

but that doesn’t help either. 

holding eye contact with his boyfriend proves to be impossible with the weight of guilt crushing his ribs. as paranoid as it sounds, jimin thinks if hyungsik were to really look into his eyes, everything he’s worked so hard to extinguish and deny would unravel out into the open. and as unfortunate as it is, jimin helplessly keeps noticing something else. notices how much better his daddy had fucked him even while he’d been intoxicated. 

jimin wants to die just from the thought crossing his mind. 

fresh tears sting his eyes. maybe jimin had been naive to assume he could drown his worries in liquor and mediocre sex. he’s cursed. he must be. damned with longing for hyungsik’s touches, praises, and cock to be replaced with his daddy’s. 

being intimate with his biological father should make him physically ill. just the idea should make jimin’s skin crawl. instead, he’s horribly reminded of how he had secretly touched himself to the memories of their accidental sleeping together. of how he enjoyed their bickering and resulting impassioned make-out.

it’s then he realizes trying to fight the overwhelming truth is ending up to be as difficult as navigating an endless, twisting maze. 

jimin’s not certain he can squash these feelings for much longer. he’s not strong enough.

and as shameful as it is, the longer hyungsik fucks him, the more certain jimin is hyungsik will never be able to match what his father had given him. 

as a consequence, he called hyungsik the next day and said goodbye to their relationship.

𖦹𖦹𖦹

when his wife touches him, something is missing. 

what used to get jeongguk hot and bothered now has zero effect and god, he hopes she believes his excuses about his stressful new promotion being the reason why he’s lost interest.  

because as fucked up as it is, the only thing consuming his mind are the qualities she lacks compared to jimin. her pussy doesn’t clench deathly tight around him. she doesn’t slick up at the tiniest teasing touch. she doesn’t moan sweet and adrenaline-inducing. 

and jeongguk swears he’s never experienced guilt quite like this.

it’s not guilt harbored what happened anymore, but rather for fucking liking it and for the stab of jealousy slicing through his gut imagining jimin leaving him to go be with his stupid fucking boyfriend. something is wrong with him and he has no clue how to fix it or if something like this can be fixed. 

and day after day, jeongguk continues the deathly cycle of rumination. 

he lives in fear of jimin confessing what’s occurred between them to his mother and his life falling to pieces. he’s constantly on edge; hyper vigilant of any and every conversation jimin has with his mother, ears tuning to any key words that would signify his bitter end because after all, no matter how morally corrupt he’s become, the idea of losing his family and everything they’ve built is something jeongguk cannot handle. he’s barely able to get a wink of sleep. there’s a noose tied around his throat forcing him to envision the infinite possibilities of how and when jimin decides to reveal the type of person jeongguk really is.

after a week of running himself in pointless circles, he’s fucking exhausted. jeongguk decides enough already. 

he needs to do some damage control. he has to man the fuck up and apologize. he needs to extend a hand and hope they can repair their relationship. he needs to move on and to return to cherishing, loving, and fucking his wife as he did before he got himself in this mess. he wants them to pretend nothing ever happened. 

he just hopes it’s not too late. 

𖦹

before jeongguk knocks on the half-open door, he admires how simple and content jimin appears lounging on his bed, propped on a mountain of plush pillows with the latest fantasy book held in his dainty palms. he can smell the lingering aroma of amber incense jimin burned earlier. a small sigh leaves jimin as he flicks to the next page, completely enraptured in the story printed in black and white. 

jeongguk wouldn’t prefer to disturb his peaceful afternoon, but he figures has to do this sooner or later and especially while his wife isn’t home.

with three raps of his knuckles on the wooden door, he makes his presence known.

jimin’s gaze flits over and sizes the man loitering in his doorway. then, he turns back to his novel to ignore him. 

still mad. okay. understandable.

“uh,” jeongguk tries hesitantly. “hey, baby.”

automatically, jimin straightens up against his stack of pillows with an annoyed sigh. 

he faces jeongguk again, but this time it’s with contempt. “what do you want?” 

jeongguk allows the sharp tone to slide considering the never-ending list of mistakes he’s committed, but that doesn’t mean that stifling the knee-jerk reaction to scold jimin is easy. he should try a different approach this time. 

he takes a deep breath instead and decides to get on with it. 

“can we uh,” jeongguk scratches the back of his neck and shifts on his feet. “can we talk?” 

jimin makes a noise of irritation, but luckily, he seems to consider it. jeongguk waits patiently. the last thing he needs is to shoot himself in the foot by barging in and demanding things he doesn’t deserve.

after another minute of contemplation, jimin throws his book aside and bows to his daddy’s request. 

“come in,” he mutters unenthusiastically. he scoots to the edge of the mattress, replacing his novel with one of the stuffed teddy bears sat next to him; arranged by fur color. he brings it to his lap and clutches the bear’s almond-colored, furry body to his chest as his bare feet swing absentmindedly. 

it’s adorable. it’s so jimin. 

jeongguk wanders inside, but not too far and not too close. if anything, the illusion of physical boundaries will help. it’s an odd thing, attempting to make himself appear less threatening to his son. it’s something he never thought he would have to resort to.

but he has to do what’s necessary. 

jeongguk slides his hands into his pockets. “i think you know what,” he says with a loaded exhale.

for a moment, jimin remains silent but jeongguk knows there’s a debate war on whether or not he would like to confront the issue running its course through his pretty little head.

“no, daddy. i don’t,” jimin sasses with pinched eyebrows. “how about you explain it to me?” 

with a clenched jaw, jeongguk glares from jimin’s brazen attitude. the look must scare jimin a substantial amount because his gaze finds the safety of the carpet below and his lips form a pout.  

“can i sit?” jeongguk asks gently. 

“i guess,” jimin murmurs with a turn of his head, absently twiddling his teddy bear’s fur. 

jeongguk takes a seat on the corner. “thanks.” 

the bed dips with his weight and he tries to shake off the invasive reminder that the last time he was on this bed, he was unknowingly fucking jimin to orgasm. 

anyway. 

“i’m sorry… about what i did,” he begins, unsteady. as much as he’s practiced his apology monologue, it’s done fuck all when it comes to the real thing. “i didn’t mean to start this and i — i shouldn’t have kissed you the other night, either. it’s not — fuck. i don’t know,” he rubs the back of his neck and swallows the distress sticking to the back of his throat. “it wasn’t right. i don’t know what got into me b-but that doesn’t excuse my behavior.”

he chances a glance to jimin and jimin gives an apprehensive nod of encouragement. 

“i’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other night,” jeongguk clears his throat. “and i realized how much i’d never want to take you and your mother for granted. i love you both.” 

jimin hums and continues to stare at the floor.

“i don’t want my stupidity and arrogance to ruin our relationship,” jeongguk adds in a sincere whisper. “you’re too important to me, doll. so — just p-please — please don’t hate me.” 

the raspy, heart-felt plea he makes is enough to grab jimin’s full attention. he sets his teddy bear beside him and twists to face jeongguk and with such a simple gesture of genuine acknowledgement, the most he’s received in a week, jeongguk could happily scream from the rooftops. 

jimin tuts and reaches up to cup jeongguk’s cheek. his expression softens as he says, “you know i could never hate you, daddy.”

the sentiment is everything jeongguk was hoping for. affection for his one and only child strengthens in his heart and toes the fine line of bursting within his chest. he grins and reaches up to take the hand jimin has on his cheek to hold. his own completely encompasses jimin’s smaller one and jeongguk gives it a gentle squeeze. then, he places a kiss on his bare knuckles. 

“i’m really, really sorry, baby,” he says, a hushed and tender reiteration. 

“i forgive you,” jimin tells him with a smile. it’s small, but just for his daddy.  

after their talk, jimin can finally relax. 

he and his daddy lay on his mattress whilst jimin relays the plot of the novel he’d been reading when he came in. his daddy listens dutifully, asking questions when he should and staying quiet when jimin goes on a tangent of explanations. jimin tells him about his uni courses and relatively good grades. it all feels wildly normal, as if nothing had changed between them in the first place. 

he even confesses he and hyungsik broke up — though jimin makes the conscious decision to spare the details of how and why. 

“are you okay?” his daddy asks with a frown of concern. “he didn’t do something mean, did he? otherwise, i’d have to beat him up.”

jimin giggles, nudging at his daddy’s chest. “no, no. please don’t.”

“are you sure, baby?” 

“yes,” jimin sighs, rubbing his cheek on his pillow but his daddy isn’t convinced. he understands.

jimin lies. “it — it was mutual. i think.”

his daddy hums skeptically, but thankfully he doesn’t pry for further information. then, he does a scan around the room like he’s trying to find something he could switch the topic to. he lands on the array of teddy bears strewn about jimin’s mattress. jeongguk grabs the one jimin had been holding, his favorite named stevie, and inspects it with an expression of fondness. 

“you know,” he begins with a humorous drawl. “i remember when i bought you these.” 

“me too.” 

jeongguk turns his head and meets jimin’s soft smile with one of his own.

“i remember dragging you into the stores,” jimin adds with a shake of his head. “and begging and pleading for another one… and another one.”

“i always gave in,” jeongguk comments with a snort and jimin gives a tiny nod. the memory ignites a fuzzy feeling of affection in his tummy. “really had me wrapped around your pinky, huh?” 

“yeah. something like that,” jimin agrees, shifting onto his side to face jeongguk. 

with a mischievous smirk telling jimin he’s just received an idea, his daddy props stevie up in a sitting position between them. 

then, he bounces the bear closer to jimin across the mattress and mimes in a silly voice, “hello minie. how are you today?” 

jimin bursts with a laugh. god, his daddy can be so embarrassing. 

“i really like living here!” jeongguk exclaims through stevie, moving the bear’s head around to mimic speaking. “thank you for being my fwend.” 

“oh my god,” jimin cringes, slapping a hand over his face. 

“don’t hide,” jeongguk continues in that ridiculous tone, wiggling the bear in his face. “c’mon, minie. don’t you love me?”

“daddy, stop,” jimin whines, gently batting the stuffed toy away. “‘m too old for that.” 

“i know,” jeongguk says. “but can’t ya just let me entertain you for a bit?” 

“oh, you can entertain me,” jimin begins, smart-mouthed. he points to the other stuffed animals surrounding them. “by sorting and placing all of my bears back where they were before you came in and messed with them.”

jeongguk gawks. jimin giggles.

and somehow, it leads to jeongguk climbing in between jimin’s legs and tackling his wriggling body with tickles. with a maniacal laugh, jeongguk combats the valiant efforts jimin makes to escape his wrath, but he knows he’s stronger. he’s done this too many times and jimin’s frantic moves to fight him off are predictable. it’s too much fun seeing jimin go red in the face from laughter and exertion. 

within minutes, he’s got jimin writhing frame pinned beneath him, only having to use one hand to have his wrists bound together above his head. jeongguk’s hovering above him, one palm used as an anchor and the other beside jimin’s head to hold himself up. they grin at each other through labored breaths, energy smarted by their frenzied struggle for power. 

and then, jeongguk glances down and notices jimin’s tight t-shirt has ridden up enough to show his smooth, bare belly. 

he grins wider, conniving, and when he meets jimin’s gaze, jimin seems to already know what he’s thinking.

“uh-uh,” jimin warns with a pair of pinched eyebrows. “don’t even think about it.”

jeongguk shifts between his legs, feigning innocence. “i dunno what you’re talking about.” 

jimin hums skeptically and goes to say sure you don’t --

he’s interrupted by jeongguk diving and seizing the chance to blow raspberries on his tummy. once again, he wrestles jimin’s squirming body and kicking legs into submission, mouth finding the flat surface of skin. he goes for it, blowing air in short spurts, fingers dancing up the length of jimin’s ribs. 

jeongguk doesn’t relent until jimin is squealing and pleading, “da-daddy! stop!” with warm, flushed cheeks and messy hair. 

“okay, okay,” jeongguk surrenders good naturedly. 

the longer he stares at a starry-eyed, mussed-hair jimin, something familiar — that pesky, detestable feeling he’s tried so hard to keep buried below layers of denial — begins to sneak in.

cause god, jimin is so fucking pretty. it’s undeniable. 

and the next thing he knows, he’s trading raspberries for tender kisses on the trembling surface of jimin’s belly. at first, he rationalizes the gesture as an apology for the torture he’d just put jimin through, but the gasp jimin makes officially pushes him off of the cliff and into the abyss of depravity. 

the kisses he places turn open-mouthed and heavy and the little fingers at his scalp, gently tugging at his hair, are understandably frightened as they shake, uncertain of what direction jeongguk is heading in. regardless, jimin doesn’t make a move to stop his father and for jeongguk, that only relays as encouragement. 

a lively groan slips from jeongguk’s chest as he trails kisses over jimin’s belly button and then bravely moves lower — downdowndown — until his lips are pressed to the pudgy outline of jimin’s cunt through his ill-fitted cotton shorts; the pair too skimpy to hold in the curves of his asscheeks. trapped below the too-thin layer, he receives a discernibly fresh whiff of arousal. the urgency to taste roars up his spine as quickly as a flip-switch. 

jeongguk doesn’t have the patience to reflect on what he’s about to do, but he does acknowledge one thing. he’s such a goddamn hypocrite. he’d just gone through the trouble of apologizing and they’d just discussed the reason why this can’t happen again, but here jeongguk is, throwing caution to the wind. 

but he figures maybe if he treads lightly, it won’t be so bad of him. maybe he’ll find the will to stop.

“daddy, w-wait,” jimin whines, barely above a whisper. jeongguk peers at him from between his supple thighs and finds the adorable pinch of his eyebrows and the frown of uncertainty drooping his pouty lips. he pauses for a moment to give jimin the chance to escape if that’s what he really wants. 

but nothing happens. actually, jimin doesn’t do anything of the sort. 

so jeongguk drops a single kiss to the pronounced indentation of his slit. 

“sh-shouldn’t. we shouldn’t,” jimin insists in a hushed voice, a tad squirmy. but he only stares with big, chocolate-brown eyes, gaze spelling apprehension but including a glint of unmistakable lust. 

so jeongguk burrows farther into the aperture of jimin’s thighs and places another kiss, firmer this time to test his son’s resistance. 

still nothing. 

only jimin’s faltering exhale through his nose can be heard in the otherwise silent room. jeongguk can only interpret the sound as a green light. 

through the flimsy pair of shorts, jeongguk breathes hot and heavy, mouthing up the line of jimin’s dampening vulva until his breaths turn labored and teeny whimpers poke through the tattered veil of supposed reluctance. when jeongguk turns his attention upward again, lips continuing their caresses to the quivering outline of his pussy, jimin meets his gaze with parted lips and weakly shakes his head. 

but jeongguk doesn’t waver. 

if jimin wanted him to stop, his cunt wouldn’t be wet right now. he would’ve wriggled out of his daddy’s hold and left. he would’ve said something to convince jeongguk to rethink what he’s doing, but jimin remains just as limp, doing nothing to interfere as his father promptly decides to tug his shorts and panties from his slim legs and toss them to the floor. 

the whole thing is laughable, really. jimin even lifted his hips to help jeongguk to take them off and doesn’t make an attempt to close his legs in the name of modesty. in fact, he keeps them spread enough for jeongguk to see everything -- and boy does jeongguk get an eyeful.

he stares where his baby’s desire is on complete display, pussy puffy and blood-swollen from a mere few kisses. glossy arousal stitches itself through the inner labia, viscous and thick, and shining beneath the afternoon sunlight bleeding through the blinds across the room. jeongguk’s cock stirs. his pussy gets wet so damn easy. 

settling belly-first on the mattress, jeongguk crawls toward his son’s sex like a sailor seduced by a siren’s song and his cunt is even better than what jeongguk pictured. and fuck, okay. yes, he had imagined what it looked like a couple of times during his morning jerk-off in the shower, but he tried his absolute best to avert his thoughts elsewhere. it didn’t work. the thoughts stubbornly returned at all hours of the day. they were impossible to ignore after that night and that same night, it was dark and being intoxicated, jeongguk could barely remember anything but the luscious squeeze and plush-softness surrounding him. the way his mind relentlessly instructed him to entertain the possibilities about its taste, its feel, its appearance could be written off as a natural reaction. 

“s’pretty,” he whispers under his breath. he admires the delicately waxed triangle-shaped patch of hair on his pubic mound leading to the flushed, berry-pink labia. this close, he spies jimin’s small, button clit hiding between the petaled folds. it lures him closer and closer. dares him to have a taste for himself. 

jeongguk has never been one to back down from a challenge. 

slowly, he blinks, curious gaze wandering to jimin’s face above to gauge his condition. a few strands of honey-blonde hair have fallen over his forehead, cherub cheeks tinged a peachy-rose hue, and he’s anxiously nibbling his swelling bottom lip as he watches his daddy takes the opportunity to explore. 

but jeongguk knows his son. the flex of his toes and subtle shift of his hips spell a festering impatience.

good thing he’s finished marveling. 

he slides his palms beneath jimin’s bent-at-the-knee thighs, stopping and spreading by his hips. after taking a breath, jeongguk leans forward and deposits a gentle but sloppy kiss to the crux of his vulva. the contact makes a wet smacking noise, pussy deliciously humid-hot beneath his lips. his sex emits an earthy aroma of arousal that speeds to jeongguk’s cock and exacerbates his current predicament. 

and fuck. he’s thirsty. 

he dives in again, but this time his satin-smooth tongue greets jimin’s pussy in one full sweep; from soppy hole to swollen clit. he leads with his nose as he traces upward and stops to sluggishly roll his tongue in a circular motion. 

a mousy, impromptu oh is moaned and jimin’s belly gives a minute twitch. fire trails red-hot through jeongguk’s veins once it spreads from his abdomen.

and still no protest arises. 

he doesn’t try to escape his father’s tongue’s wide, enthusiastic strokes lapping through the gooey mess between the petaled folds. jimin only bites his lower lip, eyelashes fluttering with the additional, slippery back-and-forth tongue-wags. 

two fingers come to split the chubby outer-lips, helping jeongguk’s tongue dig deeper; the tip dipping to the center of his gooey sex with languid, deep plunges. his pussy weeps frothy-wet and mixed with jeongguk’s spit, its flavor is unlike anything he’s ever tasted.

earthy yet honeycomb-sweet. 

jeongguk’s vision blurs with each new wave. 

and he’s kept his technique pretty tame for the most part, but the dreamy mewls jimin fails to contain tempt him to taunt worse. he moves upward, mouth opening and closing in a sluggish, buttery-soft rhythm around jimin’s clit; light stimulation for the purpose of teasing. 

jeongguk gets exactly what he’d been hoping for. it’s enough to drive jimin crazy and his hips grind forward, belly extending and shortening with their oscillating, chasing movement.

he mustn't favor his daddy’s provocation. 

“please,” jimin begs with a dulcet whine, unabashed as he holds jeongguk’s gaze with one of growing desperation. the debauchery scorches bright, briefly bringing jeongguk’s attention to his erection painfully swollen and trapped behind his zipper. 

the little bear jimin had grabbed earlier is clutched against his body, tucked underneath his armpit. it’s kind of funny seeing the bear basically smothered within a chokehold, but jeongguk’s quickly distracted as he notices jimin’s palm disappearing beneath his t-shirt to cup a bare, milky breast. a vicious throb settles in his abdomen.

with the pointed tip of his tongue circling his pearled, engorged clit, he then adds slow lap-licks across it. jimin gasps another quiet ah and his chin tips up, crooked teeth exposed as he draws in short, ragged breaths. beneath the t-shirt he wears, jeongguk spies the movement he makes plucking and pinching a nipple and — fuck. he fists the sheets. 

jeongguk wants to see. 

he wants to see everything.

jimin squeaks, thighs giving a small shake and belly going taut as jeongguk makes a spontaneous, wilder swirl around the reddening bud. every drop of blood has flooded to his groin, beckoned by the heady taste invading his palate and the bashful mewls poorly stifled at the back of jimin’s throat. 

his palms migrate to the curve of lush hips and up further to map the expanse of jimin’s quivering tummy as it rises and caves with heavy inhales and exhales. slowly, jeongguk’s fingertips inch upward until he tentatively pushes at the hem. 

eventually, jimin gets the picture and tugs his t-shirt just beneath his chin to reveal the gorgeous pair of perky breasts kept hidden beneath. 

but then, jimin does the unexpected. with two handfuls of his own breasts, he pushes the pert mounds together and gives a spine-tingling whimper and a shy bat of his eyelashes. 

a sharp bolt of arousal zings up jeongguk’s spine as jimin goes to lick the tips of his blushed fingers and circle the caramel-tinged areolas for his daddy to witness. 

the rosy buds turn stiffer, pointing lewdly toward the ceiling. subconsciously, jeongguk ramps the eager, broad laps of his tongue along the silky expanse of jimin’s willing sex and jeongguk’s rewarded with a dreamy series of whimpers and the pleasure-induced creasing of his forehead. a streak of unbridled energy rushes through him the moment jimin moans from the encouraged strokes of jeongguk’s tongue and reaches to pinch and twist a stiffened nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

boldly, jeongguk seizes the chance to release a bit of tension inhabiting his muscles. he reaches up to grab hold of the breast jimin isn’t playing with at the moment and aggressively fondles the modest mound of fat. he gives it a good, hard squeeze and relishes the clear-as-day, glowing-pink handprint left behind when he releases.

jimin sighs, high and greedy, and licks his lips as he locks eyes with jeongguk between his parted thighs, going to town on his open, flushed-pink pussy. he appears concentrated on the task at hand, though jeongguk’s palms still wander mindlessly, appreciatively kneading and fondling any soft, spare bit of fat and making an occasional finger-flick across a tender nipple. 

and the closer jimin is to reaching his orgasm, the crazier his bucks and grinds grow. jeongguk’s never been so enthralled with someone’s reactions. the ragged, frantic breaths. little fingers grasping the sheets aside him as pressure dilates at his core. the dewy-pink flush extending from the apples of his cheeks and down his slim throat. the inescapable shudders produced from his savagely good technique. 

“daddy,” jimin whines, borderline hysterical. 

it doesn’t take a genius to realize jimin’s an inch from being fully lulled to orgasm. 

he speeds up, nose-diving into jimin’s peachy-sweet pussy, messy tongue-wagging and head whipping back and forth with a heartened groan. jeongguk trains every ounce of focus on lapping and suctioning around the swollen-sensitive bud until jimin violently jerks and eyes roll into the back of his head. 

with a broken moan, jimin gives what jeongguk had so earnestly worked for. 

in the throe of his release, his cunt squeezes vice-tight around jeongguk’s tongue. rapid, little spasms wind through his limbs and his thighs shake as they attempt to shut close. jeongguk doesn’t give up so easily. he wants this to be memorable for jimin; wants this orgasm to be the one jimin will recognize as an irrefutable message: only his daddy can make him cum like this. 

his slurping mouth cements itself to jimin’s pussy, tongue hastily and rhythmically flicking over his clit. he welcomes the delicious, tiny splashes of jimin’s release painting his chin and trickling down his neck. he rides out every twist of his torso and hangs onto the doughy, shuddering thighs trapping his head. jeongguk refuses to stop even when jimin makes a pained cry of overstimulation. he just switches to sloppily kissing over the achy bud of his clit. 

the spell doesn’t lift until jimin tugs at his hair and sniffles. “please, daddy. no -- ah. n-no more.”

but that’s when jeongguk notices how plush and plump jimin’s lips have become. they’re parted with quivering breaths, shining with the dried tears of pleasure that have streaked down his cherub cheeks. 

the sight has jeongguk springing from his place and clawing up the mattress to capture those enchanting lips in a filthy kiss. he’s not sure why he’s so surprised when jimin reciprocates just as eager, but the initial shock fades as jimin widens his mouth to allow jeongguk’s tongue to reach deeper. madly, he licks inside and groans whole heartedly, erection pulsating in his trousers as they swap pussy slick and drool. 

then, jimin’s palm dives between them to the covered, swollen cock grinding against his vulva. he cups and rubs the outline in a steady up-and-down rhythm, a breathy moan flowing in between their kiss. the brave move on jimin’s part only drives him to kiss meaner, dirtier and god, jeongguk’s never felt such rabid desperation to fuck. especially when jimin’s other hand finds his nape, slim fingers winding into the hair at the base of his neck to pull just the right amount.

instead, jeongguk finds himself perched over jimin’s body, knees framing his dainty shoulders. as pretty as the sight is, he’d rather be balls deep in the tightest pussy he’s had the luxury to experience, but it’ll do for now. his wife will be returning from the store any minute now, and jeongguk doesn’t want to push his luck. he bends a little farther, one hand clutching the headboard while the other guides the tip of his cock to jimin’s pink tongue is waiting, lolled and glistening with spit. jimin lays there still and expectant, a gleam of anticipation twinkling in his eyes. a few sweaty strands of dirty-blonde hair are stuck to his forehead and his cherub cheeks have burned a rosy-pink. 

jeongguk grabs himself by the base and closes in, the head sweeping across the length of jimin’s offered tongue. it’s jarring how natural jimin presents it for him to use. with a pleased moan, jeongguk takes the opportunity to bounce the tip of his cock on jimin’s welcoming palate and shivers from its silky-smooth texture. 

a beat of arousal pulses through him and a glob of precum erupts the tip. when jimin spots it, he rushes for a taste, eagerly lifting his head to accommodate the space to lick. jeongguk runs hot at his nape and he suddenly wants to rip the button down he’s wearing clean from his body as jimin then leaves a gentle, but filthy-wet kiss to the head, its pearlescent precum forming a string that clings to his obscenely fat bottom lip.

the hand jeongguk doesn’t have gripping the headboard migrates to cup jimin’s soft cheek, thumb lightly brushing over the splatter of freckles under his eye. his freckles are more pronounced by the blush he wears, those big brown eyes sparkling with something feral. 

jeongguk relishes the wet-warm smack of his mouth, those plump, petal soft lips dragging along the blood-hot, pulsing skin until they reach the swollen head. jimin runs the silky-hot, wet flat of his tongue along the length of jeongguk’s cock, the tip flicking playfully over his sensitive frenulum. 

with a slow, flirty flutter of his eyelashes, jimin finally closes those fat, luscious lips around his cock. he blinks, teasing jeongguk with a savory-sweet moan as he takes another inch into his mouth. its pressure weighs on jimin’s tongue, its heady scent invading his nose, its size stretching his lips as wide as they can go. soon, a trickle of drool slips down jimin’s chin, and his thighs squeeze together, an inferno re-ignited at his core. his pulse rises, fingers twisting in the bedsheets. he can’t believe it. he has his daddy’s cock pressing at the back of his throat.

from above, his daddy’s breaths come ragged through his soft, red lips. he’s already worked up. jimin can see the prickle of sweat on his forehead, a few strands sticking to the flushed skin. jeongguk’s gaze runs between jimin’s heated one and his stretched-open mouth like he can’t decide what he should focus on. jimin decides for him.

with hollowed cheeks, jimin swallows around the head and takes the time to appreciate the taste of his daddy’s tangy arousal dissolving on his tongue. as much as he wants to please, jimin wants to enjoy it in his own sick way too. giving blowjobs has always been a way for jimin to feel in control. he’s perfected his technique with practice, and confidently bobs his head, throat squeezing around his daddy’s shaft. he’s rewarded with a shaky, hoarse curse and jeongguk’s fingers slipping into the strands of his hair to tug appreciatively.

he sucks his daddy’s cock like he’s been starved of it for too fucking long, because technically he has. his pace eases and speeds up to keep jeongguk on the edge, to draw it out for as long as possible, just for jimin to have more to remember when he rubs his pussy later tonight. 

he moans, the vibrating hum a noise of approval of how much he loves this. loves the burning stretch as he takes jeongguk down to the base and swallows. it’s a delicious humid-hot squeeze, esophagus working to accommodate its girthy size. he doesn’t forget to revel in his daddy’s train of hissed curses and the way his abdomen goes taut as jimin sucks especially tight and searing-hot at the tip. 

it’s a pornographic sight, the lewd slip-slide of his cock along his satiny pink tongue as jeongguk moves in and out, jimin’s swollen lips wide and eyes glistening with dewy-fresh tears. 

“you love it, don’t you?” he teases.

jimin’s confirmation is garbled.

“show daddy how much.” 

the challenge has jimin’s belly burning with flames of arousal and slick seeping into the cotton sheets. he’s remained naked from the waist down, no time to slip his panties back on, too focused on getting his daddy’s cock down his throat.

and as it fully rests in his mouth, the evidence of jeongguk’s arousal pools onto his tongue, effectively melting his mind to mush. it’s thick enough to make his jaw ache, throbbing with pulsing blood, and jimin’s obsessed. jeongguk’s unwavering, hungry gaze adds to his stupor. his blush travels the length of his chest to his sensitive, peaked nipples.

viscous strings of drool connect his swollen-fat lips to the angry-red tip each time jimin pulls off with a lewd pop and when hazy, chocolate brown eyes peer beneath long eyelashes, jeongguk spots the shiny collection of tears threatening to fall. and god, does he wants to them running down those cherub cheeks.

jeongguk’s forearms flex and jaw clenches as jimin opens wider for him, cheeks hollowing tighter and tighter and he takes jeongguk from tip to base over and over.

 “god,” he groans. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. so fucking good.” 

when jimin realizes the same cock he’s sucking was the one stuffing his pussy not too long ago and the things he’d sacrifice to experience it again, to experience it for longer, to be fucked harder, a renewed urgency returns. and fuck, jimin has never felt so cock-drunk. he goes deeper, button nose nuzzling into the coarse, trimmed pubic hair at the base of jeongguk’s groin. eyelids fluttering, he attempts to blink away the fresh wave of tears, but they escape anyway. he begins to bob his head faster, his satin-soft cheeks suction around the shape of jeongguk’s length. his pussy desperately clenches and relaxes around nothing. 

he decides to switch up the rhythm, drawing back until the tip remains to kiss messily, only to whimper from its growing-tangier taste before surging down again. from there, he suck-slurps around the shape of his daddy’s cock with every expert bob of his head. the sounds are downright filthy, wet gags and harsh breaths through his nose. it must be affecting jeongguk just as much because the hand once holding his cock abandons its place to join the one woven within jimin’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp. jeongguk gives a raspy moan as jimin’s throat constricts boa-tight and he gurgles as jeongguk begins to snap his hips. his grunting praises fill jimin’s ears, feeding his ego, the pleasure shooting magma hot through his veins.

jimin eventually loosens his control. he relaxes and allows his mouth to be used as a toy. a spit-sticky, hot-damp hole for his daddy to fuck into, wild and callous because he knows jimin is loving this — the burn, the sting, the crushing weight shoving its way down his esophagus. 

but as much as jeongguk is enjoying this, he can’t help but feel a bit jealous about where jimin must’ve learned how to do this.

“you sure know what you’re doing there, princess,” jeongguk observes with a rough voice and tilt of his head. “makes me wonder how much practice you’ve had.”

jimin responds with an unintelligible gurgle. jeongguk’s pace grows careless imagining jimin doing this for someone else. he feels justified to be rougher fucking his swollen, tempting mouth loose and his throat open.

“hm? was it one of them that taught you? or are you just a natural taking cock down your throat?” 

he revels in the drool sticking tacky-wet between his groin and jimin’s plump, fire-red lips, the runny snot trickling from his nostrils, and the adorable furrow of concentration between his eyebrows. 

“was it that piece of shit hyungsik? or the one before him?” jeongguk tuts with a bold jerk of his hips. jimin gags deliciously around his girth. “what was his name?” he pauses thoughtfully, but then grins shark-like. “oh, wait. i remember. yoongi. the cheeky bastard who liked testing boundaries with me.” 

a stray tear falls, and it rolls down jimin’s temple, but his cheeks remain hollowed around jeongguk’s cock like a good boy despite his daddy’s taunts.

and when jeongguk cums, it’s with a shudder and a growl — hips snapping forward and burying his cock inside one last time. the flood of his seed is forced down jimin’s throat, cock stuffing his esophagus until the outline can be seen bulging in his throat. 

he holds jimin’s head prisoner there, but jimin doesn’t mind one bit, and though it stings a little, he swallows almost every drop like a good boy. he only leaves a little pool of it on his tongue for when jeongguk pulls out and shows him. and since jimin is feeling bold, he spits out enough to coat his fat-lush lips in its pearly-thick fluid to lick it off for his daddy to witness — slow and cunning -- swallowing the last remnants with a pleasured, vivid hum. 

“you’ve ruined me,” jeongguk says with an exasperated sigh.

jimin only giggles.

𖦹

obviously, things escalated from there. whatever morals or values that held them back before, no longer seemed to hold much weight. the passion between them had grown dangerously quick. it felt like they were living every day not sure if it was their last. they couldn’t think of the repercussions, they didn’t want to. they wanted to stay in their bubble for as long as possible, society be damned.

they traded savory, open-mouthed kisses when jimin’s mother wasn't in the room. 

jeongguk took every opportunity to grope jimin’s ass or a breast in passing to temper the festering need to touch.

but the thing about jeongguk is, he has never been a strong man when it comes to resisting such appetizing temptation. a characteristic jimin has learned of quite quickly and, as a result, has hastily jumped to take advantage.

and really, it’s downright diabolical when jimin dresses like that. 

jeongguk simply cannot be held accountable for his actions. 

it’s only been a few days since he’d gotten his mouth on jimin, but he feels like an emaciated shark that’s being crowded, tempted by the fresh, bleeding injuries from vulnerable prey every time jimin haphazardly waltzes past him in a skimpy tank top with no bra or shorts so short the curve of his round asscheeks peek from the bottom. he was a vision on killer svelte legs, silky hair, and the lip stain jeongguk has complimented jimin on time and time again was always smoothed over his heart shaped lips; virtuous praise of something that used to be innocent, now weaponized.

jeongguk nearly exploded when yesterday, jimin stayed in a too-small towel after his shower, and left his bedroom door open until his daddy happened to walk by to witness it drop to the floor in a heap. 

jimin had turned around in feux-shock, in all his tan-skinned, naked glory, and with a mischievous smile said, “oops. sorry you had to see that, daddy.” and shut the door in his face.

if jimin’s mother hadn’t been home, jeongguk would’ve thrown him over his lap and gave his pert ass a few good spankings before fucking his brains out. instead, jeongguk gritted his teeth until his head hurt and willed his erection to go down.

he’s not sure how much longer he can resist.

𖦹𖦹𖦹

the heavy hand that gently lands atop jimin’s head breaks him from his entertainment trance. he turns his chin up, searching for the source -- only to find his daddy’s gentle, imploring gaze already staring back. 

“what are you watching, baby doll?” he asks, quiet and raspy, and his fingers idly sift through his strands.

jimin blanks out, mind and vision narrowly focused on the man before him. his daddy’s dress shirt sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows, his other hand tucked into his slacks. his forearm slightly flexes as he innocently and aimlessly strokes through jimin’s hair. 

jimin hadn’t heard him come home from work. his daddy usually never returns this early, but jimin isn’t complaining. it’s nice to see his handsome face and he smells so divine, so clean and manly, and fuck. 

a flush ignites up to his ears upon the disgraceful but arousing realization of how fucking gone he is for his father, how badly his pussy aches for him.

“hi daddy,” jimin answers, mousy and meek - though that wasn’t the adequate response he was looking for. his daddy doesn’t seem to mind. instead, he huffs a laugh and shakes his head at his silly, lust-stricken tone.

“‘m not watching much - j-just something to pass the time,” jimin follows with, clumsy. his daddy’s fingers travel his scalp where they curl and squeeze around his nape. then, he hums a delightful rumbling sound that vibrates to jimin’s core.

“i see,” his daddy observes and he sounds preoccupied. jimin glances with fluttering eyelashes and discovers how his daddy’s gaze has strayed to his chest. in this position, jimin realizes his daddy can practically see everything. unbridled desire flares in his belly. 

but they’re not alone. 

his mother is down the hall doing something, something jimin can’t remember at the moment because his daddy’s large, veiny palms are now sliding down and slipping into his tank top to abruptly grab two handfuls of his naked tits. jimin inhales a sharp gasp as he stares where his daddy’s hands have disappeared beneath the fabric, fisting his tits tighter, meaner. 

goosebumps prickle along the expanse of blushing skin. his rapid pulse bounds in his throat. 

his daddy bends down for a closer look and his warm, heavy breaths feel so vivid ghosting against jimin’s nape in soft, enticing caresses. the scent of his cologne invades the space like an aphrodisiac. 

“god, these sweet little tits,” his daddy murmurs, and he sounds completely enraptured. jimin can’t stifle the pleasured, high-pitched sighs spilling from his mouth as jeongguk leisurely massages the fleshy mounds within his calloused hands as if they were putty; fondling the fat as if he has all the time in the world. as if he were trying to savor their feel in his palms. 

a wicked sense of desperation claws its way up through his chest as cotton-soft lips brush the curve of his shoulder, leaving a barely-there peck. jimin shivers.

“hmph, d-daddy,” jimin whines, needy as gooey heat melts down his spine and into his tummy. 

“keep watching the show, baby doll,” his daddy advises, gruff. “and be quiet. don’t want your mother catching us, do you?” 

an instant, sticky gush of wet soaks the gusset of his panties. heat pools in his abdomen, a delicious throb settling at his core. 

jimin feels like he should ask his daddy why now, why do this, when it’s so risky? -- coupled with the question of how he himself has become so shameless from only having his breasts be fondled. the kind of inescapable shamelessness that slowly but surely gnaws at his resolve.

but jimin is quickly distracted, chewing his lip until he’s sure his teeth have sunk deep enough to cut. he attempts to kill the uninhibited moans he desires to release with ease, with pleasure, and all for his daddy to hear. but he obeys as his daddy squishes his ample breasts together only to release them, hissing darkly at their perky bounce. 

he gropes and hugs the supple mounds between his hard, greedy fingers with labored breaths of lust and fascination and repeated mutterings of good boy and so sensitive, hm?

in an effort to tamp the desperation growing, his milky-tan thighs squeeze together but his effort seems fruitless the moment his daddy begins to pull and twist his jutting, pebbled-stiff nipples until they bloom a precious and daring candy-apple red. jimin squirms between the dilemma of pushing into the touch or wriggling away altogether from the stimulation. trampling the overwhelming desire to slip a hand in his panties and rub whilst his daddy pinches and rolls the bud of his gumdrop peaks between his thumbs and forefingers is easier said than done. 

the picture on the television blurs. his brain is melting to mush. 

peering over his shoulder with a wide, pouty stare, jimin softly begs, “please.” and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but he hopes his daddy will. “please, daddy.” 

and well, jeongguk isn’t one to decline such an invitation.  

𖦹

gentle lips cover jimin’s with a tender kiss. the pace is the polar opposite of his daddy’s long, slender fingers producing a sequence of squelches as they delve inside his pussy.

beneath the blanket his daddy laid over them, they enter with brutal momentum, two digits plunging through the sticky-warm, drooling mess of arousal. his clit throbs and thoughts skew the longer he and his daddy share long, open-mouthed, and heavy presses of their lips; his hips inadvertently bucking in time to match the hastening plunges. the drag of his knuckles, the brush of his silver-cool rings, hook and reach all the right sensitive places. and though the fingers working him to orgasm aren’t as big as his daddy’s cock, jimin has no complaints considering their brain-melting expertise. 

another devastating jab to his sweet spot has jimin’s lips opening mid-kiss on a high-pitched whine. 

“right there, baby?” his daddy whispers against his lips. jimin finds his dark stare and nods with a delicious pout and pleading, teary eyes.

jeongguk gives a fond chuckle, dipping his head down to suck an exposed rosy nipple between his lips. his tank top had been swiftly rucked up the moment his daddy joined him on the sofa, big, dark eyes gnawing to jimin’s gut with their penetratively lustful gleam.

a delightful moan is smothered by jimin biting his lip, a warm, silky tongue laving along the hard peak. the slick slurp of his suckle adds to the pressure winding at jimin’s core. when jeongguk pulls away, a tacky ring of drool glistens where he’s lapped, licked, and bit until the area has stained cherry red.

jimin wishes it would bruise. hopes for the little token to keep as a reminder.

“so fucking wet for me,” his daddy observes, pussy juice dripping down his fingers and trickling to his wrist. he mouths across jimin’s jawline and up to his ear to whisper, “bet i could just slip my cock in right now,” he muses, cocky grin curving against the shell of his ear. jimin shudders from the thought. “fuck you good and raw. you’d like that, wouldn’t you, angel?”

“oh, yes,” jimin gasps, rolling his hips into the sudden curling stroke of his fingers. from where they’ve been flexing with their grip on the sofa, his hands fly to grab onto jeongguk’s shoulders. the idea is as genius as it is stupid considering his mother being home, but jimin isn’t in the position to care all that much. he wants his daddy’s cock and he wants it now. “give it t’me. please.”

the veins bulging from his hand flex in time with the movements between jimin’s quivering, creamy-tan thighs. the blanket rises and shifts and if anyone were to walk in, it’d wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. 

a deep hum catches jimin’s attention, his line of sight finding his daddy’s lust-heavy eyes. like a starved wolf, jeongguk licks over his lips and he bends forward, nose bumping jimin’s cheekbone. his whisper brushes the tender skin of his ear, “daddy would like that, too, princess.”

boldly, jimin wriggles a hand between them and reaches for his cock. he grasps him there, fingers molding to the stiffened shape through his trousers. jeongguk groans, subconsciously grinding forward into the willing palm. 

“you should d’it,” jimin slurs dumbly, on the verge of madness the closer he nears orgasm. the fingers fucking inside him haven’t relented, continuously crooking and brushing against the spot that causes stars to fly about his vision. “‘m ready. it’d be s’easy.” 

jeongguk entertains him. “oh?” 

“yes, daddy,” jimin hiccups, a sob catching at the back of his throat. he attempts to wiggle jeongguk’s zipper down, hastily clawing for the one thing he knows will bring him to the ultimate level of ecstasy. “c-can’t take it anymore. need you — need you to fuck me. m’pussy needs it.” 

“ask nicely,” jeongguk orders, smug at the glassy, fucked-out look reflecting in jimin’s eyes. god, it’s criminal how sexy he gets when worked-up like this. “can you do that, baby? ask daddy nicely.” 

“please daddy, i need you. please please please,” he babbles mindlessly. jimin can’t take it anymore, and he’s desperate for another fix. his daddy made him this way, he should man the fuck up and do something about it.

jeongguk appears to seriously consider it. his expression turns stern as he weighs the risks. he checks the clock above the fireplace. his wife should be finishing up her work in their home office any minute now and truth be told, if he were to fuck jimin, he’s not certain he’d be able to stop or be able to control his voice. jimin certainly wouldn’t be able to control his volume considering the state he’s in right now. 

no, when he fucks jimin again, he doesn’t want to have to hold back anything. he needs the release to be satisfying for the both of them and for that, he’s willing to wait a bit longer. 

“no,” jeongguk finally replies. “not yet.” 

his reply is not something jimin expects. if jeongguk didn’t know any better, he’d think jimin was about to burst into tears and throw a tantrum and he almost does if his trembling series of but why why whys is anything to go by. jeongguk’s not happy about it either, but one of them has to be responsible. he wouldn’t want to risk what they have. it’s too precious, too new, too hot of a secret. he’s not through with riding the high of it all. 

so he focuses on making jimin cum because admittedly, he’s edged jimin for longer than he ever has and intended to. what jimin needs right now is to release some tension. 

“i’ll come to your room tonight, hm?” he whispers against jimin’s ear. the immediate response is a shiver and jimin biting his lower lip. “fuck you good in your bed, yeah? gonna show you how bad i need you.”

“really?” jimin asks. he’s peering at jeongguk with a stupidly cute optimistic smile. it’s all kind of funny, jeongguk thinks. his fingers have slowed, but they’ve never stopped fucking into that sweet cunt. he wants to scoff at jimin’s rebuttal -- as if he wouldn’t follow through. 

“yes, baby. you’d let me, right?”

“yes, yes,” jimin nods quickly, hips jumping and breath stuttering when jeongguk’s fingers suddenly jam against his sweet spot. he stifles a moan into jeongguk’s shoulder, nails clawing at his shirt. “would let you. would let you every night.”

and he sounds so sweet and innocent when he says it that jeongguk has to make his boy cum. he ramps his pace again, adds another finger into the mix, and doesn’t stop despite his wrist threatening to cramp. he finger-fucks jimin until he’s gasping ohmygod and shuddering and his he throws his head back over the sofa’s armrest. jimin’s orgasm seems to last for a solid minute, muscles spasming and thighs clenching. jeongguk talks him through it, calls him a good boy, tells him to let it all out, he’s doing so well.

his legs have imprisoned jeongguk’s arm as his fingers continue their ferocious curling against his g-spot to milk the high he’s soaring on. tears sting along jimin’s lashline, chest heaving as if he ran a marathon. his release drenches jeongguk’s entire hand, the squirt-sprays soaking the blanket jeongguk placed over their lower halves. 

when jimin calms down, he graciously returns the favor. he spits into palm, and his skilled hand wraps around jeongguk’s erection to jerk him to orgasm with expert tugs and pulls. it doesn’t take long, courtesy of jimin’s soft lips at his neck and quiet mutterings of such a big cock and wan’ it inside my pussy, daddy.

jeongguk cleans himself with the same blanket he used for jimin.

“guess we’ll need to wash this,” he comments smugly. 

“definitely,” jimin laughs.

𖦹

“d-daddy?” jimin squeaks with half-open, heavy eyes and pinched eyebrows. he squirms when he doesn’t receive an answer and attempts to turn in the bed to find the man he’d been hoping to see. he’d been waiting hours for his daddy to show up, but had dozed off in the process. honestly, jimin felt disappointed by the time his eyes closed earlier. he thought his daddy had broke his promise. 

the warm, hard body behind him stops him from fully turning over. “sh, s’okay, baby doll,” jeongguk hurriedly insists through a raspy whisper. he latches to the skin behind jimin’s ear and suckles there. “be good for me.” 

jimin breathes a dreamy sigh as strong arms close around his frame. 

“‘m always good,” he mumbles with a smile. 

his daddy laughs at that, the sound tickling his ear. 

“that you are.”

“thought you weren’t coming.”

jeongguk shifts in the bed and presses closer to jimin. bare skin to bare skin. jimin had fallen asleep naked with the lamp on, waiting for him. and fuck, is jeongguk lucky. he peels the sheets back to marvel the miles of honeyed skin presented, and admires the round ass subtly grinding against his already-stiff erection. he slips his arm underneath jimin’s to give both of breasts a good squeeze before turning jimin by the chin. 

“i know, i’m sorry, baby,” he coos. “i had to make sure your mother was fast asleep.”

“the pill worked?” 

a part of him knew it was beyond fucked up he’d resorted to drugging his wife to make sure she didn’t catch them fucking, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. jeongguk grins. “like a charm.”

jimin returns his grin, and jeongguk takes a moment to drink him in. his soft, fluffy blonde hair against the pillow, his heart shaped lips, how, in this lighting, dark and thick his eyelashes appear. he’s so beautiful.

“daddy, stop,” jimin blushes. oh. jeongguk said that out loud. he runs with it.

“it’s the truth,” he says and places a tender kiss to jimin’s cheek. “makes me want to ravish you.”

jimin hums, smiling close-lipped and playful. “please do.”

jeongguk does.

he delicately moves jimin onto his back, placing him in the middle of the mattress. he wants to see jimin’s expression when he slips inside. but first, he dutifully makes sure his baby is comfortable by placing a pillow beneath his neck and back for a better angle. 

when jeongguk slides inside that permanently syrupy-slick, heavenly pussy, he’s met with the crossing of jimin’s eyes and his jaw falling slack.

his own eyes roll to the back of his skull in relief, in spell-binding pleasure, and it’s — as ridiculous as it sounds — like finally coming home. he can’t believe he’d held off on experiencing this again. he’s certain from this moment on, he’ll no longer be able to. he’s been trapped; brainwashed and captivated by jimin’s pussy.

the second he drags out and thrusts inside, jimin’s vision blurs in ecstasy and any tension left in his body melts like ice on a summer day. and the blunt pressure of his daddy’s cock breaking him open, stretching his pussy beyond what he knew was capable, draws a sharp, choked gasp from his throat. but jimin isn’t a quitter. he adjusts quickly, and in no time, jimin begins to meet jeongguk’s pelvis with his canting hips, earnestly grinding on his cock every thrust. he’s making these intoxicating, mind-numbing whimpers and moans jeongguk can’t get enough of. 

“s’fucking desperate for it,” jeongguk whispers gruffly. he winds a palm around the front of jimin’s throat and presses their bodies together tight tight tight and jimin’s responding gasp of surprise and walls fiercely clenching sears up the length of jeongguk’s spine. his jaw unwittingly locks. his gums ache. 

beneath his grip, he senses the movement of jimin’s thick swallow, and notices the glassy look of pleasure reflecting in his irises. 

something ferocious in jeongguk officially snaps. he’s just as desperate, if not more so. 

a sense of brazenness unleashes; loose-lipped from the lust coursing through his veins. his mouth’s filter misfires, malfunctioning how a dusty, old computer short circuits and bursts into flames from the most minute interference: a byproduct of the tumultuous arousal that has strung taut, wired through his limbs, and has now struck brighter than ever. it can’t be helped. not when jimin is so eager for it; any shame scattered to the wind with one mind-bending stroke of his daddy’s cock in his teeny, ripe cunt.

“naughty fuckin’ whore,” he hisses next to jimin’s blush-tinged ear, and jimin whimpers, absolutely wrecked, as he attempts to nod in agreement within jeongguk’s strict hold. “offering up your pussy so easily to your daddy. don’t you have any shame?”

“oh,” jimin whines after a swift thrust. peering beneath fluttering, heavy eyelashes, there’s a striking pair of siren eyes. jeongguk is mesmerized. slurring a bit, jimin follows with, “no, daddy. ‘m dirty, so naughty f’you.” 

jeongguk has gone crazy, he’s sure of it. his heart pounds like a race horse’s from the inescapably insane pleasure jimin’s obscenity provides.

and jeongguk refuses to hold anything back. his last ounce of restraint vanishes with the overwhelming realization that what he needs most is to fuck his precious, pretty little boy’s pussy until he’s creaming his cock and spraying a warm, viscous squirt. 

so he pulls out of the place his cock has learned as its new home and promptly rolls jimin onto his front: face down, ass up.

it’s such a sinfully glorious sight: lithe, curvy hips and thick, creamy thighs and tauntingly beautiful, peachy-plump asscheeks. just below, just between, rests his chubby, waxed pussy. it glistens even in the dim light, still swollen with arousal and presented for him to take. and suddenly, any remaining drop of guilt has vanished.

all veiny eight inches return in one swift slide, and he smothers jimin’s resulting scream by forcing his face into the pillow. he focuses on relishing the muffled moans and squeals and the full-body shudders jimin gives when jeongguk delivers another thrust.

jeongguk grunts, stares at the lush-round, doughy asscheeks bouncing from the surface of his groin as he starts up a brutal pace. the image is enough for his mind to cloud further, spurred by the scorching, rosy flush claiming jimin’s nape. he’s sure it must have already spread down the expanse of his porcelain throat and traveled to the precious pair of round, pebbled nipples and bouncing breasts. lewd ohs and please daddys echo between his darling hiccups.

jeongguk has turned into a rabid animal. he can barely recognize himself the way he grabs mean and bruising-tight to jimin’s hips. he pulls jimin to meet him for every fervent, uncontrolled stroke, dripping pussy flowering perfectly and hugging around him vice-tight. doughy, ample fat jiggles where his cock is disappearing over and over, those same, delicious asscheeks clapping together in a mesmerizing bounce jeongguk is hopeless to tug his attention from.

and jimin is positively sobbing now — the pressure, the girth, the size — too, too much for him to handle — but not enough all at once.

and when his daddy happens to snag that special spot inside him, jimin cries, “right — right there!” so pitifully ruined. 

it seems to encourage whatever mission jeongguk is hell-bent on accomplishing. his rhythm only intensifies, abusing his sweet spot repeatedly as jimin mindlessly babbles yes!s and daddy!s while drooling into the fabric of his pillow. his pretty bambi-brown eyes are unfocused, glazed over with bliss and his little hands clumsily fist the sheets for leverage as he’s fucked into another plane of paradise by his daddy whilst his mother sleeps away ignorantly two doors down the hall.

jimin spirals from the pleasure. he devours it as quickly as it's handed to him. the pressure at his core dials faster. jeongguk bends over jimin’s body, the skin-to-skin contact pulling a purr from jimin’s throat. he wants his daddy closer, wants it harder, needs him in every pore of his body so bad his skin crawls with it.

then, there’s filth being whispered into his ear: how much tighter his pussy is than his mommy’s, how gorgeous he looks taking his daddy’s cock, how he sounds so sexy, his sensual mewls and avid whines. how perfect he is, how good but utterly fucking naughty jimin is — such a provocative little minx. being told how this is all his fault — if he hadn’t had such a tight, pretty and perfect pussy his daddy wouldn’t have had to cheat on jimin’s dear mommy to get his fix; to obtain his small piece of heaven.

jimin can’t get enough.

his strokes are deep and hard and rough, pounding into jimin’s g-spot so accurately his toes curl and spine bends and the mattress shakes and all it takes is jeongguk’s sly goading — 

“gonna cum for me? gonna cum on m’cock and show mommy who’s better?”

jimin mouth drops open with a silent scream-gasp, shiver-shuddering — feet kicking and thighs trembling as pure warm bliss explodes in his tummy. he squirts harder than he ever has, jetting like a fountain around his daddy’s cock for what some seems like eons and eons all while jeongguk battles to stay inside. his strokes modify to something punishing, strong hips snapping mercilessly until he finds his own orgasm and unloads into jimin’s pussy like he’s dreamt about for weeks.

when jeongguk gathers the strength to pull out, jimin’s pussy dribbles milky white onto the sheets. 

jimin barely moves an inch. the orgasm took every ounce of energy he had left. jeongguk doesn’t mind, though. he takes his time cleaning jimin with a warm wash cloth, and laughs at the adorable, sleepy sounds jimin makes in the process. 

by the time jeongguk crawls back into bed with jimin, both dressed in their pajamas and cuddled under the sheets, an ache settles in his chest. he wishes they could do this every night. he wishes they could have this without fear. he wishes for a life where things could be different. 

but jeongguk doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it too long. he tugs jimin’s smaller frame closer and nuzzles into the crevice of his neck and inhales the sweet scent of jimin’s shampoo. jeongguk will take what he can get. 

as long as he has jimin, he has enough.