Hii!
Sorry I haven't been active. My lil bro was diagnosed with a rare heart condition that needed an open heart surgery (he finally had it last week and is recovering well)
I was too stressed and panicked to even type anything lol. but i'm back now yhii
*******
A year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
It was not supposed to be that long…
At least that was what Yoongi had told himself the day he watched Jiminie ride him like his life depended on it.
At seventeen, his Jiminie was a pro at everything sex. It was the one thing that Yoongi loved the most about his son because, at the end of the day, regardless of what happened along the way, he knew his Jiminie would never look in anyone's direction. And he had wanted to wreck him, to make him stay with him and be his little bitch.
That had been the plan, and gods, was Yoongi so desperate for it?
But that morning, when he came home and found Jiminie fucking himself on a dildo, something in Yoongi snapped. It wasn't that he hated his son for fucking himself while moaning his name louder than everyone in the house to hear, no.
And it certainly wasn't in the way that he had stood by the door faithfully and watched his Jiminie stuff all his holes with vibrators and dildos just to get himself off because daddy dearest had been having meetings that he needed to attend and Jiminie had somewhat gone to the end of his list of priorities.
Nonetheless, it was definitely in the way that Yoongi had learned that school was never a strong suit for Jiminie. His son hated school, and Yoongi had played a role in it. He had made sure to make his son cock-drunk in his seventeen years to the point that Jiminie's answers at school to anything were cock.
But not just any cock.
He wanted his daddy's cock.
And it was then that Yoongi changed his mind.
He wouldn't be the one to make Jiminie pull out of school. He wouldn't be the one to walk up to the school principal and offer some excuse about his work trips, so he and Jiminie would be away from the school most of the time.
He didn't care for that.
Yoongi was rich enough to take care of his young son, and he could do it for a lifetime without having to step out of the house. He was a man who made money in his sleep, and all he had to do was make a few phone calls. That was all that was needed. Which was why he was choosing to torment his son.
To deprive Jiminie of the very thing that the boy so yearned for more than anything.
"I'm busy, Jiminie. Go do your school work and read. You will have to take care of the company someday," was how it all started.
It was a simple statement, one that had Jiminie crying for days on end.
And when a week passed. The poor boy went back to his father, dressed in nothing, yet draped I honey all over. He tasted as good as he smelled, and Lord, was it the most tempting thought that Yoongi had smelled had seen.
"Daddy," Jiminie ah cried out, opening his legs right in front of his father when the man was in a meeting. On normal days, Yoongi would excuse himself from the meeting to fuck him, and on wilder days, Yoongi would bend Jiminie over during the meeting, and no one would ever say shit to him.
Yet this time…
It was different.
Jiminie had stripped himself bare. He had let himself be seen, and all his father did was keep staring at the screen like Jiminie wasn't worth it. His face showed no emotion. It was like Jiminie was invisible. Even when Jiminie let out loud moans and cries in his father's name, Yoongi didn't do shit. He was just focused on his meetings.
And that went for days.
But it was not just that.
Jiminie would come home to women spread out in their living room, sucking his father's dick like their lives depended on it. He would sit by the door and watch as his father fucked them all one by one, and sometimes, they would ride his dick and his face, all while Jiminie watched the women have the one thing he was denied for months.
Jiminie would cry and beg desperately to no end.
While some of the women would offer themselves to Jiminie…
Jiminie didn't want them.
He wanted his daddy.
He wanted the cock he had been groomed for.
Jiminie wanted the one thing that had triggered him in one too many ways, and yet had now turned into something else. A reality that he would never be able to get out of. A reminder that life itself was never going to get better for him. And Jiminie started wondering what was wrong with him.
He stayed up late googling how to be a good slut for his daddy again. How to be attractive enough so Daddy dearest would want him. He was a desperate kid, yet nothing seemed to work with his father, and it was frustrating.
There were days when his father would bring men over and fuck them while they fucked each other, and Jiminie wasn't allowed to taste or touch any of them. He would only watch as his father fucked everyone like his life depended on it. And Jiminie would go to bed yearning for the opportunity he couldn't have anymore.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," the kid would apologize in every form, but Yoongi was blatant in ignoring his son, and for days and months, it was like Jiminie didn't even exist to him. He would only look at Jiminie when the kid wanted pocket money for school, and he wouldn't give him enough.
Even then, he would give Jiminie cum-streaked bills.
Those who didn't have Yoongi's cum, no.
They had to come from the people who had always come to their house.
The people Yoongi had fucked endlessly.
The people who got a taste of the dick that Jiminie wanted and needed so desperately.
But even despite his son's pleas, Yoongi never cared. He didn't want to think of anything other than the fact that he was doing what he thought best for both of them. Maybe the man was insane for what he had been acting up on, but perhaps it was just what he needed himself.
And his son didn't matter, right?
Poor thing.
"Make sure to wake up early for school," Yoongi would insist, and Jiminie had just about had enough when the new school year began.
It had been there for a hundred sixty-five days of torture. The days that Jiminie hated more than he hated everyone had come over to their house. That year was the worst thing that could ever happen to Jiminie.
Perhaps that was also why, instead of going to school on the first day of the semester, Jiminie walked over to his father's study, a white envelope in his hand, with the stamp of Sonyeondan High School, Jiminie's school.
It was almost like the kid had made up his mind, but then what else could he do at a time when his father only ever listened to him when he was talking about schoolwork.
"Daddy… can I please have a moment?" Jiminie asked, his tone practiced and dutiful.