Funimation & Procreation

funimation & procreation

part 11 of my n&c series <3

SUMMARY Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own.  WARNINGS kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 MISC the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins RATING m (18+) WC 9.1k 

NOTES (!) sorry for any typos T_T Tumblr played me as I was editing so I may have missed a few rip lmk !!!

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pilot seokjin😭😭😭

Senior Captain Kim Seokjin has the honor of initiating you into the Mile High Club.

You’re on your way to some vacation spot, one of those tropical islands that are flooded with visitors this time of year. These flights are always the worst, filled with rambunctious children and snobby young adults. It’s noisy and it’s demanding, two traits that make your job as an air stewardess all the more difficult. Between rounds, you take cover in the tiny kitchen on the airplane, gazing into the mini whirlpool inside your coffee mug until someone knocks their hip against yours. “Oh,” you blurt, “hello, Captain.”

Seokjin smiles, that same sparkly grin he’s given you every time you’ve had the opportunity to fly alongside him. “Hello,” he greets, and the only thing more shiny than his pearly smile are the metals that decorate his left breast. “Everything okay?”

Among all the flight captains you’ve had the pleasure of assisting, Seokjin is definitely in the top three, maybe even number one himself. He’s on the younger side, very polite despite his title. He doesn’t treat you like a maid, which is a pretty low standard, but you’d be surprised how many airline captains do. “Oh, just terrible,” you groan, offering him a tired smile that he takes as in invitation to stay for conversation, leaning against the kitchen cabinets beside you. He’s too tall for this area of the cabin, has to duck forward just the slightest bit to keep from bumping his head.

Anyway, after ranting for a couple minutes, he offers you an apologetic look, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. “Sorry I can’t do much,” he laughs sheepishly, “but if there is anything I can do, just let me know.”

It’s not really much of a disappointment, considering there are very few things Seokjin can do, Captain or not, when the flight is already in the air. “Don’t worry about it, sir,” you shrug, “there’s not many ways to relieve stress in the air after all.” At that, Seokjin tilts his head, pouty lips cutely quirked to the side. You raise a brow. “Unless you happen to know any?”

“Well,” Seokjin hums, and then, carefully peers behind you at the open door leading out of the kitchen space. “I do know one way.”

Which is how you find yourself squished uncomfortably inside the cockpit’s bathroom, the skirt of your uniform hitched up over your hips as Senior Captain Kim Seokjin pounds into you from behind. “Fffuck,” you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the intensity of his hips.

“Shh, shhh,” Seokjin warns from behind hou, his big hands clutching at any part of you he can reach— your breasts, your waist, your throat. “Gotta be quite, baby,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, teeth nibbling along the curve.

As much as you want to, you can’t contain the whimpers and cries he draws out of you, lower lip trembling with each ram of his cock inside of you. One knee is propped up against the sink, hands flat against the mirror. You’d be embarrassed by your own reflection had you not been zeroed in on Seokjin’s. Sweat crawls down from his hairline, leaves him glistening under the artificial bathroom lighting. “Oh— oh, fuck,” you sob, “faster, sir— please.”

Seokjin groans, the hilt of his cock flush against your folds. “Of course, baby,” he exhales, hands wrapped around you, clutching at the inside of your thigh to hold you open. “I’ve got you.”

commercial break: sixteen

a netflix & chill drabble <3 directly after part 11 !

SUMMARY Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) WARNINGS smut in the forms of titluvr jk, fingering, kissing, shower sex, unprotected sex MISC justice for Doyeon, the Honeymoon!!, an infinity pool, tw: L0VE WC 1.9k

NOTES a couple ppl requested the honeymoon <3 and also Doyeon trying to defend herself lmfaksnk tada !

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can we get tying up husband namjoon miss yamz

Any uncertainties your husband may have had before are washed down the drain the moment you tighten the last knot against his hard body. “Oh,” Namjoon says, pleasantly surprised by the snugness of the criss-crossing sections.

“I read up on it,” you grin, patting the inside of his thigh as if to say ‘all set!’ His skin bulges against the ropes, makes certain parts— his ass and chest —look plumper than usual. You’re practically drooling like a dog.

Namjoon, who has long since categorized each and every one of your facial expressions, snaps you out of it. “Honey,” he calls out softly, nudging you with his knee. His hands are neatly tied up in front of him, just above his cock. Close enough for him to wrap his own hands around it, giving himself a few shallow pumps as he waits for you to touch back down on the ground.

“Sorry!” you stammer, maybe a tad too starry-eyed over your tied up husband. After the tedious and rather lengthy process that was tying him up, you didn’t have a second more to waste. “Going now.”

As suspected, the ropes make Namjoon all the more bratty, huffing and whining every chance he gets as you do everything but touch his weeping cock. You begin at his throat, lavishing it in kisses that were sure to bruise tomorrow, high on the fact he can do nothing to stop you. And then his chest is showered in even more kisses, nipples pinched and tugged until the skin around them is visibly pink and tender. “No more,” Namjoon whimpers, but he’s just so pretty laid out like this that you can’t help but envelop one perfectly pert nipple in your mouth, rolling it between your teeth as you rock back against his achingly hard member, letting it drag along the curve of your ass only.

By the time you’ve sucked his chest into two twin peaks, Namjoon is practically sobbing, bucking upwards into nothing. “Onto your tummy,” you coo, grasping one of the bulging knots at his front to pull him towards you, swallowing the whimper that escapes his lips. You roll him over, and the mere act of manhandling such a big man as Namjoon makes you a little power crazy. You push him down face forward, his ass in the air as you creep up behind him.

“So beautiful,” you praise lovingly, trailing your hands along the tense muscles of his thigh. Your hand snakes it’s way around, finds the base of his cock and makes Namjoon yelp from the tightness of your grip. “Stay still for me now.”

He’s practically leaking, coating your hand in his arousal all too easily. Your hand begins it dutiful mission up and down his cock, the other rubbing soothing circles along one perfect globe of his ass. “Good boy,” you purr, and then abruptly bring your hand down against his plump flesh, marveling at the blood that rushes to the surface. Namjoon moans, bucking into your hand instead. You meet him with a deathly tight grip that makes every muscle in his body tense up immediately.

He’s easy to manage like this, hands bound before him, and you fondly lock away every new memory made. From the pitiful cries that left his mouth to the tender skin after the ropes had been removed— it was beautiful, deserved to be cherished. A nice change of pace.

dilf jk 😈

Jungkook’s got a sparkly clip in his hair when you come home, eyelids smeared in the sticky, glue-like eyeshadow that seems popular among little girl makeup. “Yo,” he says, your little daughter tucked carefully against his side. She’s dead asleep, has got the same face as him and everything.

“Hi,” you greet, leaning over to press a kiss against both their temples. Jungkook accepts it gratefully, tries to steal your daughter’s kiss too before you swat him away. While you undress in the bedroom, she gets safely tucked into the expensive princess canopy bed Jungkook had bought her, her tiara nightlight casting a pink glow across her room.

By the time Jungkook shows his face again, you’re in your jammies, carefully combing through today’s emails one last time. “My Queen,” he sighs, snuggling in beside you. You do him a favor and remove the sparkly clip before it yanks his hair out, carefully combing his curls to one side. His skin is oily from all the hard work he’s done today; between cooking, cleaning, and looking after your little princess, Jungkook barely has time to relax. And still he worries about you first. “How was your day?”

“It was okay,” you say, engulfing him in your arms. He’s soft, melts into your touch. “And yours, sweetheart?”

His cock is half hard against your thigh, and you’re interested in seeing how long he can go before addressing it. His personal best is three minutes. “Tiring,” he groans, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck. Jungkook places a kiss there, like he’s testing the waters, and his little attempt makes you smile.

In the end, he doesn’t make it past two minutes before he begins trailing wet kisses down your chest, undoing the buttons on your top as he goes. His mouth latches around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple until you’re a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him. “Did I do good?” he husks, voice hushed against your skin.

You appease him with a gentle pat against the top of his head that makes his cock swell against your thigh. “You did good, baby,” you purr, “know i can always count on you.”

The praise goes to his head, has him stripping you of your bottoms with an insane speed. “Wanna be good for you,” he moans from between your thighs, his tongue lapping away at your swollen clit like it’s bringing him more pleasure than it is you. It sends a heavenly vibration throughout your body, hips twitching against his mouth. “Wanna be your good boy.”

Jungkook + enemies to lovers 😫

are yall okay

e2l + teacher au + dilf jk

As a kindergarten teacher, you’ve kind of been conditioned into being a nice person. After all, you spent most of your day surrounded by people with missing front teeth and shoes that light-up— it’s hard to be mean to children. Especially when they’re all so cute and squishy, have the doughiest cheeks on the planet and say the funniest made up words like, “bazillion-jillion” and “jiggly-wiggly.” They were endearing and they were sweet, often making your day without even meaning to.

The same couldn’t be said for their parents.

Areum is sitting in the reading area, backpack neatly placed atop her desk, when her father arrives. Clad in the same dark suit as always, Jeon Jungkook looks extremely out of place in your colorful classroom. “Daddy!” Areum beams, and he has the decency to at least kiss her forehead hello before jumping headfirst into battle with you.

Jeon Jungkook is a single dad, a fact Areum had randomly decided to disclose to you one afternoon in the sandbox, as children do, so you know he has a lot on his plate. Between working and raising a little girl, you imagine it’s difficult for him to unwind. The dark circles under his eyes are a force to be reckoned with, but you suppose it sort of adds to the sexy dad vibe he’s got going on.

(Not that you could ever say that to his face.)

And as understanding as you want to be of his situation, Jungkook is a little… annoying. He’s a good dad! That fact cannot be denied. But even you can look past your sympathy shades to say that scheduling his fifth parent-teacher meeting of the month is a little excessive.

He has this rather incessant fixation with arguing about her grades, convinced— as most parents are —that his kid is the smartest in the world. So even before Jungkook sits down, you already know what he wants to discuss. His briefcase hits the corner of your desk with a thud, before he flashily draws out a red sheet of craft paper from its depths, Areum’s art project from last week. Doesn’t even offer you a greeting. “This is definitely worth an A+.”

You sigh, pressing your hands against your face. “Mr. Jeon,” you begin slowly, “I’ve explained before that her art projects are not graded solely on the quality, but on her ability to follow instructions as well.”

Jungkook bristles, letting the sheet flutter onto your desk. Areum glances over from behind the kid-sized bookshelf, gives the two of you this pointed look as if she’s the adult in the room trying to reign in two fighting kids. The worst part is that it actually works; in a quieter voice, Jungkook hisses, “Areum’s art is good— I think you just hate my kid.”

Your jaw drops. “What—“ you blurt out, belatedly remembering to keep it down. You push yourself to your feet, arms crossed over your chest. “I do not hate anyone’s kid,” you spit, “much less one as as sweet as Areum.”

Jungkook’s jaw twitches, hands on his hips. “I know she’s sweet,” he spits, briefly glancing over at where the topic of your heated interaction is flipping through a a butterfly book. “Sweet and talented, which is why she should’ve gotten an A+, and not a B+.”

You roll your eyes. “Again, not based on her talent only, Mr. Jeon.” Like a kid, he copies your pose, the sleeves of his suit a little strained as his muscles bulge beneath the fabric. He even looked hot when he was mad. You stomp that thought down, whirling around to reach for Areum’s weekly performance review which you hastily slap down onto your desk. “Look,” you huff, flipping through the sheets carefully held together with a pink paper clip, “she’s good at art, but struggles a little with the instructions.”

Jungkook’s sighs, the sound practically a growl from how it catches in the back of his throat. And despite the annoyance wafting off of him in waves, he tries to subtly lean closer to get a look at your notes. He doesn’t drop his stance, doesn’t even apologize for coming on so rudely— not that it’s the first time —without knowing the situation. He remains as on edge as he was when he first walked in. “‘Needs to have instructions repeated multiple times,’” he recites, eyeing your detailed review.

You nod, trying to push the paper closer to him; Jungkook is standing a little too close now, the scent of his cologne tickling your nose. “She tends to get ahead of herself,” you explain, glancing over. You nearly flinch when he looks back, so close. His gaze is solid and unwavering, meeting yours with a serious glint in his as he listens carefully to what you’re saying. “She needs to work on listening first and then doing.”

For a minute, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, choosing to just rub his hand against his chin as he mulls over the information you’ve just presented him. And while standing beside this awfully gorgeous yet slightly hardheaded man is a little overwhelming, it’s better than having him accuse you of hating his five year-old kid. Areum peeks over and you offer her a tight-lipped smile, which she returns with her own sparkly grin. It eases your nerves.

“Okay,” Jungkook suddenly announces, clapping his hands together. The sound makes you jump, makes Areum run over too. He points a finger your way. “So help her improve her listening skills,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “That’s your job, right?”

You frown. “My job is to teach her,” you correct, unimpressed. “A child’s listening skills are something they usually develop at home.”

“At home?” he repeats, mindlessly placing his huge hand on the top of her tiny head. Areum’s got the same dark brown hair as him, the same glossiness and all, too. “So can’t you just come over and help her?”

You choke. “What?” you cough, flustered at Jungkook’s suggestion and how easily it’d rolled off his tongue. “I’m her teacher, Jungkook, not her tutor or nanny or whatever.”

“Miss __ is gonna come over?” Areum exclaims, clinging to her father’s pant leg.

“No,” you rush to correct, trying to respond in a way gentle enough for Areum but blunt enough for Jungkook. “That would be very inappropriate of me, Areum.” The aforementioned father rolls his eyes, stuffs the hand not petting Areum’s head into his pocket.

“Why?” she asks, as most kids do.

You sigh, straightforward in the glare you send Jungkook. “Only people you know and like should be going to your home, honey,” you try to explain, offering her the best, if strained, smile you can muster.

Areum blinks. “But I know and like you,” she says, and you’re touched for all of two seconds before she feels the need to tack on, “and Daddy likes you, too.” You freeze and it’s Jungkook’s turn to jolt in surprise. Areum pushes on. “Yeah, Miss __,” she nods, seemingly recalling a far distant memory. “Daddy calls you the pretty lady from school, mmhm.”

The blood rushes to your face. Jungkook jumps to his own defense. “No,” he chuckles nervously, trying to play it off as he glances between you and his child, “that’s— I didn’t say that, Areum.”

Another frown from the tiny human dead set on embarrassing the two of you. “What? But Daddy, you always ask about Miss__ and you always wanna visit school just to see—“

He interrupts her with a loud cough, cheeks aflame. Not that you’re any better, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “We should, um,” Jungkook stammers, reaching for his briefcase, “head home now. Yes.” You nod meekly, clumsily handing him Areum’s art project before he can forget it on your desk. Your hands bump and the both of you stumble over each other’s apologies, choppily bidding each other goodbye.

“Bye, Miss __!” Areum calls, unaware of how she’s just reduced two functional adults into stuttering messes. Jungkook, who you previously wanted to throttle for being so annoying and insistent, spares you a shy glance that sends a tingle down your spine. “You can come over whenever you want! Daddy can make you dinner.”