BTS Smut Oneshot's/ BTS SMUT Bakery

Too Share or Not? | KNJ x Reader | M

Summary: You loved pleasing him, and you definitely wouldn't mind pleasing the rest of his members too.

Warnings: Exhibitionism, oral sex, rough oral sex, slight humiliation, demeaning words i.e slut ( a lot of slut calling), female masturbation, Possessive Joonie, Dom Joonie, Sub Reader, very light mention of violence, Gang/Mafia-ish. Pining reader I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything. Enjoy!

⚠️⚠️ : This story is rough and the language towards the reader is a lot more crude and demeaning. If you're easily offended or uncomfortable by that please don't read this story.
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The cloying aroma of burning tobacco and artificial strawberry stemmed from the flaming tip of the cigar. Thick, cherry-stained lips enclosed around the hickory paper, inhaling a deep drag of the flavored tobacco from the rolled stick. One puff. Two puffs. Three - dense drabs of smoke billowed down his throat, filling the surface of expanding lungs with its toxic musk - exhale. Namjoon propelled the opaque vapors from his nose in circular rings, distorting from a defined circle to a wispy pale oval, before dispersing to join the rest of the smoke in the hazy limousine.

Tanned veined hands, accompanied by lithe fingers, moved to shroud around the dripping base of the chilled glass of fermented grape juice, a pungent sweetness wafting into the air with each swirl of the plum-colored liquid. Tiny rivulets of the sweet substance escaped from the corners of his mouth, trickling down his neck with prohibited temptation. Passive contentment loosened his stern features as he savored the alcoholic beverage and tobacco mingling mutually on his taste buds.

It was meager times like this that you loved, that you craved for. Where his tough exterior was momentarily down, unguarded to allow glimpses of his intrinsic nature to seep through the superficial cracks in his armored defense. The quirk of his profound dimpled smile reaching his eyes, turning them into amused crescents, the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration when he's in his study reading a book, perhaps mulling over 'business' transactions. Or your favorite, the secured, yet loving care he displays with his gang members in their time of need or reassurance. A softness you yearned Namjoon would exude in your presence, instead of the method disciplined emotionless husk you were well acquainted with.

"What are you doing down there? I didn't bring you here to gape at me, get back to work."

As much as you crave for an ounce of his reserved compassion, you couldn't overlook the way your body responded to his dominance. How your nipples pebbled into taut peaks, the sharp throbbing of your fattening clit, or the fresh wave of creamy slick, coating the seat of your dampening panties, dripping down the insides of your clenched thighs. He ruled your body with an iron fist in velvet gloves, you had no choice but to obey, nor did you have any desire to disobey.

"Yes, sir." Came the mewled words in a breathless gasp paired thinly concealed embarrassment. As long as you have been doing this, calling him by his preferred self-entitlement, it never failed to provoke the feeling of unwarranted timidity. Maybe it was because it demonstrated your servility to him or that you longed to please him, needed- no, coveted his praise like your next breath, never hesitant to stoop to demeaning measures to receive his approval.

" Y/n ..." He cautioned in an austere tone, a flash of warning before he took over, a night-long, mind breaking event you wanted to avoid at all cost. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, with doe eyes glossed in smokey eyeshadow and smudged eyeliner, you hoped the look in your eyes pictured aspired mercy. Your pink tongue darted over your moistened lips, an irrelevant action as they were already lubricated with a mixture of slightly drying saliva and his salty pre-cum. Tightening your enclosed fist around the base of his neglected cock, you stroked the smooth yet turgid shaft upwards, each thick vein cradled by the softness of your palm. Coaxing more of his seed to bubble from the raging rouge of his cock, gliding back down the smooth flesh, you repeated the action.