It took me almost four days to finish this drawing, it feels good after so much time of creative inactivity, I hope to be able to do more when I quit my job :D
jungkook works overtime to assure that things go back to normal - all from behind the scenes.
word count: 13.493
warning: police brutality??, namjoon putting belt to ass, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, vomiting, kissing, nipple sucking, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, age different/milf reader, overstimulation,
part one | two | three | four | five | ½ | six | seven
Kim Namjoon swore he could write a tell-all book about his time working with the Jeon family. It’d be a best seller, he thinks, making him the top author. Then, he’d write a sequel detailing the odd jobs he’d do for the children - like that time he had to scrap indecent pictures of Jeon Nari from the internet that only a select few have witnessed, but otherwise have no evidence of. Or when Jeon In-su had called him when he was driving under the influence and wrecked his car entirely.
Jeon Jungkook, however, always kept him busy. Like right now, Namjoon thinks as he slams his police cruiser shut, flashing red and blue lights flashing as he makes his way towards the luxury car. His eyes glanced at the license plate prior to making his way to the driver window.
“License and registration.” Namjoon says to Lee Dae who appears that he’s had a rough morning thus far. His face is flushed and he notices a few scratches along his forehead and temples.
“Is there a reason why I was pulled over, officer?” Lee Dae attempts to sound as polite and professional as he could, but it’s evident something is bothering him. He hands over exactly what Namjoon asks of him. “I wasn’t speeding, was I?”
Namjoon doesn’t answer and instead eyes the license for a moment. He had no use for this, but he had to keep Lee Dae talking.
“Everything alright, sir?” Namjoon questions, glancing his way. “It appears you got into one hell of a tussle.”
Lee Dae inhales through his nose. “Not exactly.” he states, ignoring the question. “May I ask again what was the reason for me being pulled over.”
Namjoon sighs. “Well,” he begins, hanging Dae back his license and registration. “we got a call about a domestic dispute.”
For a moment, Dae is confused. Then, it dawns on him, realization settling through. He scoffs, his eyes widening. “That bitch called the police on me?!” he spats, venom laced in his tone entirely. Namjoon almost wanted to laugh, but he was on the clock. “After she attacked me?!”
“Sir, do you mind stepping out of the vehicle?”
Dae is taken back. “Why?” he asks. “Am I being arrested for being attacked?”
“Sir,” Namjoon’s tone deepens. “Step out of the vehicle.”
Dae doesn’t. His eyes harden at Namjoon, one hand clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. His cheeks are still burning after the hot coffee was splashed into his face. He had enough going on in his personal life and it appears as everything was adding onto it - you being unreasonable, him going bankrupt, his parents refusing to help him.
“I’m not doing a damn thing.”
Namjoon could laugh right now. His eyes scan the quiet area. It’s too early for anyone to be out; the birds weren’t even chirping yet.
Without warning, a fist slams right between Dae’s eyes, so sudden that he cannot even predict what he is supposed to do next. He feels his body being dragged out of his vehicle and slammed against the cold concrete of the street.
“I’m requesting backup.” Dae hears Namjoon say from behind him, but his head is ringing so loud. There’s pressure on his back. “The suspect is resisting arrest and attempting to flee the scene.”
“What the fuck?!” Dae hisses, attempting to fight Namjoon off of him, but it’s no use. “You just fucking assaulted me!”
There’s cold metal clasping around Dae’s wrist, his cheek pressed firmly against the ground.
“Whatever that bitch said I did to her, she’s lying!” he hisses, rage overtaking him. “Do you know who I am? I’ll have your job by the end of the day.”
Namjoon yanks Dae up by his shoulders, forcing him to stand before slamming him against his own car. Behind him, he begins to chuckle.
“The suspect is belligerent and matches the description from the reported domestic dispute.” Namjoon radios in before turning his attention back to Lee Dae. “I have no idea who you are, though I’m sure you know what family I work for. Jeon Jungkook has told me to make sure your time with me is one you won’t forget.”
Dash recalls a time in which it was just him and his mother. There were traditions that were held when he was a child - like every Thursday they had breakfast for dinner and every Saturday they’d go to a restaurant of his choosing.
Dash cannot recall a time in which he ever longed for his father, or any father figure in general. He’s grown accustomed to not having one. His mother rarely dated, and if she had at all, she never brought such men home with her. It’s one of the many reasons why he hadn’t cared to reach out to his father as he grew older. The man came around when he wanted to, throwing cash around as if that made up for his years of absence.
It’s why when Dash takes a break from the treadmill - the last piece of equipment he finds himself on right before he leaves the gym - one of the many televisions catches his eye. He removes his headphones, the music blaring from them as his eyes fixated on the News. At the bottom of the screen in bold letters reads “BREAKING NEWS”. Dash doesn’t typically watch the news, especially at the gym, but it’s the man on said news that captures his interest.
Lee Dae - because he would never truly call said man his father - is on the screen. He’s nearly unrecognizable and the only reason he had come to realize just who the man was is because of the similar bold font next to the “breaking news”.
BREAKING NEWS: PROMINENT LEE FAMILY MEMBER, LEE DAE, THRUST INTO THE SPOTLIGHT ON DOMESTIC BATTERY
Dash swallows, his feet moving faster than he realizes, his attention fully on the television. It’s hard to hear in the gym where the music is louder than anything, but he manages to read the subtitles as the reporter speaks.
“A sudden turn of events has transpired early this morning,” the reporter says, her eyes looking right into the camera, behind her an array of flashing red and blue lights. “authorities confirmed to me that Lee Dae, eldest son of one of the city's well-known Lee family, has been arrested with domestic battery.”
“No fucking way…” Dash murmurs to himself, his eyes unblinking. He scans the scenery in the background, his breathing slowly at the familiar houses.
“Sources tell me that the arrest has followed just a day after Lee Dae has officially filed for bankruptcy. Such an act has become talk of the town due to his family name. One officer responded to a reported disturbance early this morning by residence.”
The camera turns to the right, a sea of officers surrounding one man that is on the ground now - Lee Dae. Two officers lift him up from the ground as the reporter begins to stroll towards another man, dressed more formal than in uniform. He’s tall, broad shoulders and serious eyes.
“Officer-”
“Detective.” the man says and as he speaks, his cheeks suck in. “Detective Kim Namjoon.”
“Detective,” the reporter corrects. “can you give any information on what has transpired here today?”
Detective Kim looks right at the camera. “We’ve responded to a series of complaints about screaming coming from a home just down the street. Witnesses allege that a physical altercation had occurred between Lee Dae and an individual. This investigation is an active case and we’re still currently gathering information.”
“Thank you Detective Kim.” the reporter turns back to the camera. “An anonymous source has given us information about Lee Dae’s financial documents that had been filed just yesterday and may play a role in the incident that occurred between him and the woman rumored to be the mother of his illegitimate child. We’ll have more information-”
Dash doesn’t stay in the gym longer. He knew it was rude to shove the man lingering in the entrance out the way, but the feeling in his stomach doesn’t feel right to him. His palms are sweaty as he enters his car and he’s speeding out the parking lot in less than a minute later.
You’re showering when your phone rings from your bedroom and it goes to voicemail - over ten times. If anything, you were sulking, the hot water burning your skin in the way you deserved - deserved for allowing Lee Dae to continue to ruin your life. For hooking up with Jungkook that has Dash pulling away from you. For going too far with the younger man in general that now has him claiming his love for you.
You were done sulking when the water began to cool and decided that you’ve made your bed and it was your time to lie in it. Before you lived in this home, you had an apartment. It was small, sure, but it was yours.
You’re drying your hair when you hear a bang from outside your room. For a moment, you believe it’s Dad coming back with vengeance - and you were prepared to attack him yet again if it meant you could release even more anger. Instead, it’s Dash when you hear his frantic voice calling for you.
“Dash?” you call back, swinging your bedroom door open to see your son just down the hall. He’s sweaty, you note, and in his usual gym attire. “What’s wrong? You look terrified-“
“Are you okay?” Dash’s eyes scan your face then your body for any visible wounds. “The news said you were attacked.”
“The news?” your eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve been here the entire time.”
Dash takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them to look at his mother. He’s been avoiding you for too long. He didn’t want to have that uncomfortable conversation.
“I saw him on the news.” Dash speaks and finally, he feels his heart go back to a normal pace. “They said he got into a domestic dispute with his supposed mother of his child.”
It takes you a moment to connect the dots, but when you do your blood continues to boil. You have more questions than you should probably ask all in one sitting.
“I have no idea what’s going on.” you turn your eyes down the hallway to where the front door is wide open. “Are you hungry?”
Dash remains quiet. His eyes scans you over once more, concluding that you’re fine. Lee Dae, however, was not. He was bruised and obviously beaten by someone that had no care for him.
Dash also cannot find it in his heart to truly care.
“Please stay.” you murmur, your voice low and defeated. “Just long enough for me to make you something to eat. We don’t even have to talk.”
“We should talk.” Dash quips. “About everything.”
It was a step forward, even if that step terrified you.
There was no more hiding anything from Dash and you promised that whatever he asked you, you would answer truthfully. As you cook, Dash sits at the island. He doesn’t speak and you’re positive that he’s collecting his own thoughts just as you are.
Dash is positive that you’re attempting to lighten the mood when you place the stack of pancakes in front of him, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils that remind him of a simpler time - just you and him.
“I know you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Dash murmurs, forcing a large portion of the pancake in his mouth.
You take a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to hate Jungkook either.”
Snorting, Dash takes another bite of his pancakes, but remains silent. His dark eyes flicker to you and in that instant, he looks far too much like Lee Dae for your liking.
“It’s my fault-”
“You’re both adults.” Dash interrupts. “It isn’t more his fault than it is yours, right? You fucked my friend and my friend fucked you back.”
Your body is hot with humiliation. You never wanted to be here with your son. For years, you prioritized Dash and worked overtime assuring that if you dated, it never interfered with him. Any man you had entertained throughout the years rarely made it to the stage in meeting him, all deemed not not “ready” enough to further the relationship.
“Are you still-”
“No!” you hiss, eyes wide. You shake your head. “Jungkook and I-”
Dash raises a brow.
You sigh. You run a hand over your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done anything with him. You and him…”
Dash waits for you to continue - were you finding the right words? Did you truly feel terrible as you looked saying it? He isn’t sure entirely. A part of him ponders if you and Jungkook were something purely physical or did you harbor feelings for him and vice versa.
Taking another bite of his pancake, Dash begins to think back to how Jungkook has acted. He rarely came out with him to parties like he used to. He avoided the girls that approached him and always made excuses to end conversations prematurely. He hasn’t received any texts from his friend in a long while that asked him to not return to the dorm room - understandable now seeing as he fucks you in your bed.
Dash clears his throat. “Have you talked to him?”
You sigh. “To Jungkook?”
“No,” Dash snickers. “to the other motherfucker who you fucked and allowed to ruin your life.”
“Don’t talk like that.” your eyes glare, but then they soften. You squeeze your hands into fists. You had to put yourself into his shoes instead of living outside of it. “I have. This morning actually.” you sigh. “I may have thrown scorching hot coffee into his face.”
Dash is taken aback by your seriousness. So much so that he laughs, something deep from his throat that has your own lips twitching upwards.
“I’m not sure how the news knows this but-”
“He’s apparently a prominent figure.” says Dash sarcastically. “When I saw him, he was fucked up. Like, really. He was arrested."
Your eyebrows knit together. “Really?”
Instantly, your mind flashes to Jungkook. There’s no way that he and Dae had an altercation together - you’re positive. That would do more harm than good, but damn did it get you going just thinking about the younger man beating that prick’s ass.
“He filed for bankruptcy officially yesterday.” Dash snickers. His pancakes are nearly done and knowing him, he would just go in the fridge and look for something else to eat.
“I know.” you groan. “We’re going to have to start packing soon.”
“What?” Dash’s eyes flicker to yours. “What do you mean?”
“That’s why that good for nothing asshole was here this morning.” you shrug a shoulder. “Apparently…he’s selling the house.” you let out another sigh.
Dash’s face falls a bit, his eyes glancing around the kitchen. “He can’t do that…we…you live here. His parents-”
“Cut him off.”
Even with bad news, you’re giddy enough to know that Dae will still have a terrible life without his parents money.
“You still have your inheritance, though! They wouldn’t allow him to touch it.” you offer a soft smile. “You’re almost done with college and I have enough money saved up-”
“I don’t want that inheritance.” Dash scoffs.
You understand why, but you ask either way. “Why? You can have a jump start into your career. You can…buy a home for yourself. Or save it-”
“All of a sudden I have cousins who pretend to give a fuck about me. Am I expected to meet with these people for the holidays?”
Dash crosses his arms and sits back into the island stool. He’s been with Sumi - not officially - for months. He’s grown close enough with her to hear the stories of what happens in these rich families and he wanted no parts in them.
“Then,” Dash shakes his head. “I got a call from my supposed grandfather to tell me that I could possibly inherit his company. I didn’t ask for this.”
“Wait, what?”
Dae’s father was a strict and serious man. For years, he avoided all contact with Dash and made little effort to be a part of his life. He never asked questions, only made sure the check cleared every month.
“Imagine that.”
You tilt your head, eyes peering at your son as he speaks.
“The illegitimate child possibly inherits everything. I know that would crush him.” Dash cracks a smirk. “I’d just burn it to the ground. Watch decades of hard work crumble.”
“You sound so evil.” you say, amused. “The son I raised wouldn’t do that. That’s something Dae,” you say his name as if it’s venom. “would do. He’s too stupid to run a company.”
Raising your son, you rarely spoke ill of his father. Now that he’s a man, you couldn’t do anything but that.
“But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. It’s your life.” you grab the sticky plate from the island and toss it into the sink. You turn on the water. “But that inheritance is yours. Do whatever you want with it.”
The silence you and him are left in as you wash the dishes is a comfortable one, at least for you. You don’t want to force him into more conversations that would have him pushing you away again.
You’re scrubbing the sink when Dash does speak up again, this time asking a question you weren’t sure you knew the answer to.
“Do you love him?”
That obviously wasn’t towards Lee Dae.
Dash is staring at you, waiting for an answer. His face is unreadable, you note, the perfect poker face as always.
You turn off the sink water, your eyes cast down as the water goes down the drain. A part of you wishes you could go with it.
“Dash…”
“Yes or no.” says Dash. “Do you love him? Or was it just sex?”
You watch Dash watch you.
The kitchen is entirely still, silent. You don’t say anything in response.
Did you love Jungkook? Of course you did. At first, you adored the friendship Dash & Jungkook had, the motherly side of you witnessing the boyish atmosphere they created together that reminded you of two siblings. You enjoyed having the both of them over and assuring them that when they left, it was always with packed dinners.
Then, it became complicated. Jungook found out about the profile - the one you made just to hookup with anyone, and used it against you.
It became complicated because you liked the way Jungkook spoke so dirty to you, those boyish features you loved about him that you thought were cute now had you swooning.
It became complicated because you loved how good Jungkook fucks you, showing such passion for your body that no man ever has before. His kisses would be left lingering on your hours after the fact, his hands bruised on your flesh like a tattoo.
But even then, you think, outside of sex you thought of Jungkook. You enjoyed his company. You enjoyed the times you and he shared together, even if it was behind the backs of others. He’d lay his head on your chest, listening to the way your heart beat rhythmically, his arms hugging you tightly - almost afraid to let you go.
“That tells me everything I need to know.”
The stool scratches against the floor as Dash gets up. Your heart jolts and you reach out for him. “Wait-“
“I have to get back to the dorm and shower. Sumi and I-“ Dash stops speaking. He’s forgotten he hasn’t talked to you about Sumi, or about anything in his life recently.
“-have plans.”
Sumi, you think. That must’ve been the girl he was with that night. Immediately, that familiar humiliation comes through you.
“I’ve,” you chuckle bitterly, your hand slowly falling. “I’ve missed you…is all.”
Offering a strained smile, Dash nods . “Me, too.”
“Ruining people's lives is suuuuch hard work.”
Sumi’s voice sounds through his phone speaker, as sugary and sweet as always. Only, Jungkook knows his cousin and knows just how false that voice was. Of course, only when it came to Dash.
Jungkook hadn’t thought that he’d ever had to talk to his cousin in order to hear about one of his closest friends, but here he sat doing just that. From Sumi, he learned that Dash had started speaking with you again, which was great, only on your side, of course, as he continued to avoid Jungkook like his life depended on it. He isn’t sure he could blame him.
However, you still refused to see him. He was one step ahead, though, as you weren’t completely ignoring him. You answered his texts and sometimes, his calls.
“Tell me about it.” Jungkook sighs. He’s laying against his pillows in his dorm room. “Having to be the mastermind to get the woman you love back is tiresome.”
Sumi snorts. “You have such mommy issues, I swear.”
“Don’t we all?” Jungkook retorts. “Besides, I’m just doing what you suggested.”
It’s been a long month so far. Within said month, Jungkook worked on assuring you and he could be together. But in order to do that, he first had to worry about Dash.
It was Sumi’s idea, Jungkook recalls, thrusting Dash into the Lee family's good graces. Dash had confided in her (Jungkok could vomit on how lovey-dovey she was with him) about his grandfather reaching out to him, and it was Sumi who encouraged him to take up the offer.
In all wealthy families there were those who were attempting to get into the good graces of the patriarch - that would be Lee Dae’s father himself. Dash had several cousins, all raised with money who attended private institutions like he had. They had the name, yes, but not the work ethic or the strive.
Lee Daniel, just a year older than Dash, was already out. Wealthy families hated scandal - and he was the first in Sumi’s plan to fall. Jungkook recalls the moment it happened, him unlocking his phone and revealing it was yet another headline involving the Lee family. This time, Lee Daniel, whose father - married to Dae’s sister - had bribed the elite university to take in Daniel. Of course, it’s something that happens all the time, but they were the first to be caught.
Said scandal had people wondering just how iditioc the Lee family could be if getting into a good University was that difficult.
The next on the list was Lee Nara, only a sophomore in college herself, but old enough to know that drinking and driving was wrong. “I can’t believe you’re adding me to your schemes.” was what Jimin had said, but was fully willing to drive a bit too close to the brand new car she had gotten for graduation just a few years prior to cause an accident. It was Namjoon who answered the call when Jimin’s car “spiraled” out of control and ended up on the side of the road with a hysterical Lee Nara.
Sure, she only had a few drinks that night, but it wasn’t the detectives first time altering a breathalyzer.
BREAKING NEWS: LEE FAMILY BACK IN THE SPOTLIGHT!
LEE NARA involved in serious drunk driving crash in Downtown
Police confirm that Lee Nara, sophomore, and granddaughter of prominent business man, Lee Dae-hwan, was involved in a serious vehicle collision late last night. First responders rushed to the scene and managed to bring those injured - and unnamed - to the hospital and their injuries under investigation.
Eyewitnesses describe the scene to be not only chaotic, but heartwrecking. Shattered glass, smoking engines and panicked individuals gathering around the intoxicated and unruly Lee Nara.
Authorities, along with Detective Kim Namjoon, had confirmed that Lee Nara has been taken into custody and is expected to face charges for her crime of operating a vehicle under the influence. Detective Kim has this to say:
“Lee Nara may be young, but she’s old enough to know right from wrong. Let this be a cautionary tale, don’t get behind the wheel if you’ve had a lot to drink. This is a young girl who is known for her high-profile lifestyle as a Lee, but that does not mean that she is above the law.”
“Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?” Jungkook asks, blinking back into reality.
Sumi hums from the other end as if thinking of his question. “Do you feel bad?” she asks him.
Jungkook thinks about it for a moment - then another.
No.
Maybe that was Jungkook’s own privileges catching up to him. Growing up in an elite family, nearly everything was competition. Who could come out on top, who could gain the most, who could be the best.
This was what it was, only Jungkook was assuring the top spot remained on one who wasn’t competing - Dash. Compared to his cousins, Dash was perfect. He got into college because he worked for it and didn’t need anyone to bribe his spot. He was responsible and as far as anyone knew, not in the limelight giving their family a bad name.
“Besides,” Sumi’s voice is cheery. “isn’t this what you wanted? Dash has no competition now, not like he ever had. Daniel is a dumbass jock, Nara’s reputation is dwindling.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hums. “It is what I wanted. I gotta go.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for Sumi’s response before he hangs up. Instantly, his mind drifts to you, so you are who he calls.
You answer on the fourth ring, your face coming into view. You take a deep breath, your eyes glancing at him in fake annoyance. It does nothing for Jungkook, however, as he smiles widely as he sees you. “Mommy!”
“Kookie…” your tone is lecturing. “…what did I say?”
“To jump in front of a car.” Jungkook deadpans.
“What? No!” you’re fully into the camera now. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Well I'd rather do that than go a day without seeing you.” Jungook sits up on his bed. “Did you get the flowers I’ve sent you?”
Jungkook watches the way you get out of frame to return a few seconds later, holding the bouquet he’s sent you. The flowers are lush and colorful, a mix of lavender blossoms and pink lilies.
You attempt to be annoyed - just a bit - but there’s a glint in your eyes that Jungkook sees.
“I got them.” you say. “I appreciate them, Kookie. But you know-”
Jungkook interrupts you. “It’s been torture, mommy. Why don’t we go out?” he suggests. He wants to change the subject. He doesn’t want to hear you remind him what he already knows.
“Are you insane? Talking to you now is risky.” you sigh. “I thought I told you that we keep talking, it has to be-“
“Strictly platonic.” Jungkook pouts with a roll of his eyes. “I miss you, though.”
Jungkook witnesses the way your eyes soften and his heart jolts. You place the bouquet back out of frame and return back to the phone. “I miss you, too.”
At that, Jungkook smiles. His heart jolts in his chest like it always does. He doesn’t blame you for being skeptical in meeting with him, but it’s hard for him. He has to force himself from being at your door every night, knowing that Dash could possibly show up at any time. It was riskier then, but the adrenaline clouded his mind. He never thought that the two of you would be caught.
“You do?”
“Of course I do.”
Jungkook tilts his head. “I figured you’d found someone else by now,” he jokes. He’d know if you did. He wasn’t paying Namjoon extra to keep an eye out on you for nothing.
“And if I do?” you raise a brow, staring right at him through the phone.
“If you do, it won’t be for long.” Jungkook responds instantly, cooly. “But you don’t have anyone.”
You snort. “Are you following me?” you question, fully joking on the matter.
Yes, Jungkook was in a way. Namjoon got paid more by the Jeon family than he did as an actual detective. “I just know.” he smiles a bit. “Besides, if you did have someone, you’ll still be thinking of me.”
“You’re always so cocky.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong, and that’s what upset you - with yourself, not him. The younger man is a plague on your mind that you cannot get rid of. It didn’t help that he refused to be forgotten, determined to have a relationship with you by any means necessary, an idea you shot down time and time again.
Yet, when your mind wasn’t plagued with Jungkook, it was about him, especially Dash’s question. “Do you love him?”
“Mommy?”
You blink a few times, your vision returning clearer. You look at Jungkook to find that he’s already looking at you. However, he’s changed the view from him holding his phone to said phone being propped up on his nightstand. You see him laying down, a few strands of hair in his forehead and covering his eyebrows. You see him place his airpods in his ear before continuing to speak.
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook questions.
It was your turn to get comfortable. You didn’t have to work until later nor were you expecting company. Dae had kept his distance from you - you thanked the higher power for that - and Dash made it his mission to call before he did, no matter how many times you told him there wasn’t any reason to anymore.
Jungkook watches the way you lay on your own bed, your head crashing onto the soft pillow. He wishes he could be next to you, he thinks, and inhales the sweet (and sexy) scent upon your sheets. Just the memory has his cock hardening in a perverted way.
“You.” you say, answering Jungkook’s question honestly.
“Me?” Jungkook’s eyes widened a bit, a tint dusting his cheeks. “What about me?”
You couldn’t hold back the snort, your lips twitching upwards.
“I’m thinking about how cute you look right now.” You tease.
“Cute?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Stop flirting with me, mommy. Just tell me to come and I’ll bend you over-”
“Jungkook!” There’s no malice in your voice and this time, you laugh. “You have such a dirty mouth.”
“You like how dirty my mouth is.” Jungkook retorts. “I miss using my mouth on you.”
This was your moment to stop him. Jungkook was taking a step and it was your responsibility to not allow him to leap.
Instead, you raise your brows. “Do you really?” you murmur, eyes watching through the screen at Jungkook.
“Yeah.” Jungkook nods his head. “I miss tasting you…”
There it was, you think, your sanity screaming at you to not do this. Everytime you’ve gone too far and went down a rabbit hole with Jeon Jungkook, it causes you to make terrible decisions.
In your silence, Jungkook continues. “...miss touching your soft skin. I miss trailing my tongue on every inch of you.”
“Kook…”
“I miss laying my head on your chest, too.”
Jungkook’s voice lowers into a hushed whisper, as if speaking lower in the empty room would hide what he’s saying. His tongue glides across his bottom lip.
“...miss the way your nipples feel against my palm…against my tongue.”
Your thighs clench together pathetically. No matter how many times you told yourself to hang up the phone - because this was not being strictly platonic - you don’t. Instead, your body reacts, imaging said man doing exactly that. His hands gliding against your naked flesh, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples and suckling on them until they’re hardened and bruised.
“You miss it, too, don’t you?” Jungkook hums and from your view, you witness the way his legs widen just a bit. “I wish you’d stop being so stubborn, Mommy…”
Jungkook’s bottom lip pokes out a bit, so cutely that you are nearly distracted by the way a tattooed hand trails down his torso and to the hem of his sweatpants.
“Instead you insist on torturing me…” Jungkook trails off.
“Torturing you how, Kookie?”
A shiver runs through Jungkook’s body. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Your sweet voice speaking his name just does something to him - and he feels it right at his core.
“You know how, mommy.” Jungkook whimpers, fluttering his eyes open to look at you. His hand slides into his sweats without a care. “I’m so hard at just thinking about you.”
You swallow - hang up the phone, you tell yourself. “You should be hard for girls your own age, Kookie.”
Jungkook snickers humorlessly. “Girls my age won’t treat me like you do.” he says, squeezing a hand around his clothed cock, his boxer briefs painfully tight. “The way you make me cum, mommy, no one has done that before.”
Hangup, you tell yourself, the familiar heart beat growing between your legs.
“Why do you think I can never get enough of you?” Jungkook sighs and from the camera angle, you see the way his hand jerks inside his sweatpants.
“Are you touching yourself?” you ask - damn you, you think. You couldn’t stop watching him and his own pathetic words aren’t helping, either.
“I have to because you hate me.” Jungkook whimpers. This time, he pushes the sweatpants from his waist. He’s sporting navy blue briefs that he proceeds to push down, as well, his cock springing forward.
Your lips part just a bit.
“I don’t hate you, Kookie…” you trail off as Jungkook wraps a hand around his cock. You swallow, you were going to regret this when you were in the right mind. “...I miss you just as much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you nod your head. “You were such a good boy for me, Koo…I miss feeling your cock in me. I think about it all the time.”
Jungkook’s heart jolts, his cock twitching in his palm. Instantly, he squeezes it, stroking it as his eyes watch you through the screen closely. “Fuck, mommy.” he gasps. “I can still be good for you! Please-”
“How would you be good for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You and Jungkook were already too deep - and sure, you could end it now, but you wouldn’t.
“You know how, mommy. Have you forgotten how good you felt when I’d fuck you?” Jungkook grunts, shamelessly taking out his cock. Your eyes zone in on it through the screen, the tip flushed just as you remembered it. Your legs squeeze tighter. “-fuck you so deep just how you like it, too.”
Watching Jungkook pleasure himself is hotter than you’d thought it’d be. Of course, it had to be because it was Jeon Jungkook. A handsome face with a handsome cock and seductive voice that shot a wave of heat through your body - and between your legs.
“I wish you were here right now, mommy.” Jungkook then whimpers, a total switch up to his once overly-cocky attitude that you’re positive would be back just as quick as it left. “No, I wish I was there! I know you’re wet right about now. You’re always so wet for me, mommy.”
“I am wet.” you admit, voice lowering to a whisper. “I wish you were here with me, too, Kookie. I miss feeling your cock in me.”
Jungkook pumps his cock harder, round eyes widening at you. You’re teasing him, he thinks, the way you’re breast are right in the camera, but not fully exposed just because he knows you want to torture him.
“L-Let me see you, mommy.” Jungkook pants. “Please, I miss you. And listening to you right now is torture…”
Jungkook swallows the lump that’s in his throat, uncaring at how pathetic he might sound. It was obvious what he was doing - you were literally watching him - but it wasn’t a secret to you of all people how he felt for you.
“Hmm…see me?” you ask, tilting your head. “What do you wanna see?”
What didn’t Jungkook want to see? It would be perverse for him to tell you to put your whole pussy into the camera, even if it was his first thought when he ponders your question. His hand squeezes his cock, a whimper coming from his lips. “Your…breast.” he swallows yet again, throat dry. “I wish I could feel them right now…please, mommy.”
Now at the thought of your soft breast in the palms of his hand has him salivating, truly wishing he could hold them in his hands once more - even if it was for a mere second.
You do, pulling your shirt up to show Jungkook your breast, amused - and aroused - but the look of the man. His head is pushed back against his pillow, his cock wet with his own pre-cum and you hear it as he pumps himself.
“So pretty,” Jungkook whines. His mouth part, his tongue salivating at the way your nipples are hardened. His mind swirls with memories of him between your breasts, his fingers twirling and twisting those very nipples, along with his tongue, suckling and leaving it flushed and bruised. “I wish I could cum all over them again, mommy…”
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as you watch, your bottom lip being caught between your teeth. Your legs clench tighter together, the sight you’d never thought would ever be hot to you, but here it was. He isn’t silent, nor are the sounds of him pumping his cock at just the sight of you.
As for Jungkook, his mind continues to replay past encounters with you - his cock springing between your breast, his tip hitting against your tongue, an act so lewd that his stomach churns at just the remembrance. “Gonna cum, mommy!” he grunts.
As of lately, nothing has gone Jungkook’s way. Sure, he was making moves behind the scenes - assuring that Lee Dae paid the ultimate price for being a piece of shit to you and Dash. Him and Sumi found ways for Dash, the illegitimate child, to strive ahead of his cousins, but all of that wasn’t his focus. What was his focus was simple - cumming to you.
“Fuck,”
Jungkook jumps instantly at the sound, his eyes opening like a deer in headlights.
Jungkook knew that voice, and so did you. You act fast, body warm with embarrassment and before asking any questions, you hang up, your heart pounding.
Jungkook goes to cover himself with his blanket, his cheeks flushed as he watches an unamused Dash close the door behind him.
“should I have knocked?” Dash glances away.
Jungkook grabs his phone, now free of you. He lets out a sigh of relief - Dash hadn’t seen you on the screen.
“You didn’t put anything on the door.” Dash murmurs, going towards his own bed. He drops his bag onto the bed and opens it.
“You…you’ve been avoiding me.”
Jungkook’s voice is small. He pulls his sweats up underneath the covers. It was Dash’s idea to put something - anything truly - on the outside of the door to let the others know that they wanted the room to themselves. It mainly meant when they had company, not desperately masturbating.
Dash doesn’t respond and Jungkook is unsure how to further lead the conversation. He sits up, swinging his feet to the side of his bed and straightens his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to catch Dash around, but he’s made himself disappear and avoided him as if his life depended on it. He could ask Sumi for help, but that would be admitting that he needed her even more, and he’d be damned to give her more satisfaction.
“Dash,”
Dash stops what he’s doing. He slowly turns towards Jungkook and at this, Jungkook is taken aback. What he was expecting was for Dash, upon seeing him again after months, to say something. To berate him, attack him (again) even - and he would take it all.
This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting. Dash, of course, isn’t a fighter unless provoked. But he gives Jungkook nothing but a simple stare, waiting for him to speak.
Swallowing, Jungkook stands. “I,”
Dash waits for Jungkook to speak.
Jungkook’s hand clenched and unclenched several times.
“Are you nervous?”
Jungkook exhales. “Yes.” he admits, his cheeks darkening. “...you’re my best friend.” he says quietly.
Jungkook doesn’t see the way Dash’s eyes soften for a moment, or the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Thing’s would be easier if you,” Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know, beat my ass.” He’s only half joking - he doesn’t want to get punched again by him, but it was something. “I thought about what I would say when I finally saw you again.”
“What did you come up with?” questions Dash, genuinely curious. He wasn’t positive that Jungkook was at the dorm, but after his visit with you, he knew he couldn’t avoid the man forever.
Witnessing him with his cock out wasn’t how Dash wanted to see the man, however.
“Nothing good enough to get you to stop hating me.” Jungkook snorts humorlessly. “I’m sorry.”
Dash bites the inside of his cheek. Avoiding Jungkook was easier than this. The sight of him and you together left his mind, but it was easier to conceal when he didn’t have to see him.
Letting out a sigh, Dash repeats the words he’s said to his mother. “I don’t…hate you.”
Jungkook inhales. He doesn’t want to speak at the risk of ruining the moment.
Dash sits on his bed, rolling the kink out in his neck.
“I thought about what I’d do,” Dash begins. “about you…if I wanted to continue to fight you at every given chance.”
Jungkook eyes the way Dash raises his eyes to look at him.
“Or if I wanted to just forget about it and move on with my life. To leave you and my mother behind.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You shouldn’t do that to her.” he’s quick to interject. “She…she really loves you.”
“You’d know.” Dash snickers.
Jungkook supposed he deserves the jabs.
“I thought she was hurt and I forgot about it all.” Dash crosses his arms. “I forgot the disdain I had for her. The betrayal.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” Jungkook blurts out. “I-”
“What?” Dash scoffs. “You were going to tell me over lunch that you were fucking my mom?”
Jungkook sighs. He falls onto his own bed, head hanging. “No…” he murmurs. “...I don’t know how I was going to tell you. She…”
Prior to all of this, Jungkook didn’t have an issue with speaking with Dash about any relationships or hookups he had. You were different, of course, as no one wants to hear the personal details about their mother’s sexual life.
“...she didn’t want you to know.” Jungkook murmurs. “I don’t even think she took me seriously. She told me all the time that we couldn’t,”
Jungkook stops to take a deep breath. Dash hasn’t stopped him yet, so he continues.
“be together. It was me who kept pursuing her time and time again.” Jungkook runs a hand through his hair.
“So…you’re telling me that you have feelings for my mother?” Dash tilts his head, dark eyes staring intently at Jungkook. He wants to laugh at the circumstances. For years it’s just been him and his mom and now she had someone who loved her, but it was someone he brought into her life.
“Yes.” Jungkook nods, now lifting his head to look at Dash. “I do.”
“How long?” questions Dash hastily.
“H-How long what?”
“How long have you loved her?”
Jungkook exhales. “A few years,” he murmurs.
“You’ve been fucking my mom-”
“No!” Jungkook shakes his head. “It started a few months ago!”
Dash scoffs.
“I,” Jungkook feels like ripping his hair out. “she was nice. She treated me kindly. She cooked for me just as she did for you and-”
“You have mommy issues.” Dash blurt out, his eyebrows knitted together. “She was just being motherly, Kook, seriously.”
Dash takes a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief. This entire time he considered Jungkook a brother to him, one he always told his mother he wanted - even if he was fine with just the two of them. Instead, someone so close to him had looked at his mother differently.
With warm cheeks, Jungkook nods a bit. “I know,” he mumbles. “my cousin tells me all the time.”
“Your cousin knows you’re fucking someones mom?”
Jungkook ponders if things would change if Dash knew just who his cousin was.
“Unfortunately.” sighs Jungkook. “She…wasn’t supposed to find out, either.” he murmurs, a warmth returning to his cheeks at just how embarrassing it all was witnessing Sumi that night with Dash.
“What was your plan?”
Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, an action he did often while nervous. “I don’t know,” he admits. It wasn’t a total lie. He had every intention of courting you, he thinks. Though, it wasn’t supposed to all end up like this. Dash wasn’t supposed to find out in such a way, you weren’t supposed to cut him out. Now, everything had to be done differently and day by day, he was working overtime. “I wanted to tell you-”
“That you were fucking my mom.” Dash deadpans.
“No!” Jungkook hisses. “I mean, that I loved her! You…I thought I had time. I thought…after graduation-”
“That you’d run in the sunset with my mother?” Dash snickers, this time the corner of his lips curves upwards by how hilarious that sounds. “You’re a man in college just as I am. She’s out of your league.”
Jungkook would argue that he was more than deserving, but then that would be to admit who he was and what he was doing here. It’s no secret that Dash isn’t fond of his paternal family and how “snobbish” they were to those they deemed unworthy. The Jeon family were far beyond that of the Lee and admitting that he was, in the words of his cousins, pretending to be lesser than, he’d surely despise him even more.
“I know she is.” Jungkook murmurs a response. “But I was working on it all. I was going to prove myself.”
The more Jungkook speaks, he realizes how foolish he may have sounded each time he told you. He had nothing to show to you how serious he was besides promises he wouldn’t reveal until college was over.
“And then what?” Dash questions. “You and her would tell me over dinner?”
“Well I haven’t made it that far yet, Dash.” Jungkook retorts. “I was going to tell you as soon as-”
Dash raises his brows.
“-she agreed. She…she didn’t take me seriously, either.” Jungkook’s shoulders falter as he speaks it aloud. He admits, though Dash obviously is holding himself back from attacking him further, it felt good to speak with him about this.
Quietly, Dash roams his eyes away from Jungkook and towards the ground. It’s obvious neither of them know what to say next. What he’s gathered from speaking to his mother and Jungkook, that there were feelings developed along the way. She could try to hide it, but he knows his mother well enough.
“You remember what you told me?” Jungkook speaks first this time. “When your father came into town, that is.”
Dash shakes his head.
In a way, Jungkook knew he wouldn’t. It isn’t something that Dash said entirely too serious, but he had.
“Do you care for him?”
Dash snorts. “Is that actually a question you’re asking me?” he asks. He’s sure he couldn't care less for his father, especially knowing that he was planning on selling the same house he bought for them. However, he supposed it was just a matter of time before Lee Dae came and took everything from them.
Jungkook shrugs one shoulder. “Just making sure,” he murmurs. “You’re already upset with me about getting involved with one parent.”
Dash tilts his head. “How could you be involved with him?”
Sooner or later, Dash would know who he was, Jungkook thinks.
“What if I told you that I’m the reason he was arrested?” Jungkook begins, slowly speaking each word as he examines Dash’s expression.
“Go on.”
So Jungkook does. He leaves a few details out, but he’s said enough. He admit that it was him who called in the domestic dispute, and when asked if he was there with his mother, Jungkook had to assure he didn’t put you under the bus. After all, Dash is under the impression that you cut Jungkook off, and in a way you did, but not fully like you should’ve. “I was there that day.” Jungkook admits, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I saw your dad leave, hurling out insults after the next. She…wouldn’t let me in to talk to her.”
So what if Jungkook bent the truth in his favor?
“I saw the mess in the background, the look on her face.” Jungkook shrugs once more. “Then I remembered what you told me that day before we had dinner with them.”
Dash is intrigued, dare he say. He didn’t think Jungkook would be the reason Lee Dae had been arrested and the start of a downfall for the Lee family. It revealed the bankruptcy which soon spiraled to his cousins being exposed for their own doings.
“If there was a way for her to get rid of him for good, she’d take it.” Jungkook repeats those words Dash spoke, the same one that he took as bond. “The public image of a wealthy family is everything, right? Lee Dae is not only a deadbeat father, but is a broke abuser.”
For a moment, Dash is quiet to process it all. His face is unreadable and Jungkook begins to think that maybe he’s spoken too soon.
Then Dash laughs. His head falls back and he releases it, his chest rising and falling. Jungkook hadn’t heard that same laugh in so long, he thinks. He recalls the nights the two of them had together at the dorm, eating greasy pizza after a night out. He enjoyed listening to Dash ramble on about everything and nothing all at once, moments he took for granted.
“This life is new to me.”
Jungkook watches as Dash lays down, his hands behind his head and eyes upwards the ceiling.
“Having cousins and grandparents.” Dash continues. “My grandmother keeps inviting me over for dinners. My grandfather said I could inherit his company. It doesn’t seem real.”
Jungkook stands to his feet. “That’s great, isn’t it?!”
Dash shrugs.
“It is.” Jungkook assures, far more excited than Dash was, but that was because he wasn’t from this life. He and Sumi weren’t doing things behind the scenes for nothing. “It doesn’t seem real because you’re different from them. You actually know what it’s like to work for the things you want. I’ve heard about your…cousins.”
Dash snorts. “I’m sure everyone has.”
“That means you’re,” Jungkook states. “next in line. Big inheritance and a company-”
“That I have no idea how to run.” Dash deadpans. “Seems like a never ending headache to me.”
“It’s not going to happen overnight.” Jungkook states. “You have time, that is. But this isn’t the point now.”
“And what is the point?” Dash asks, glancing at Jungkook.
Taking a deep breath, Jungkook responds. “To beg for forgiveness.”
You felt like you were living life backwards. As soon as you realized you were pregnant by that man, you were forced to grow up faster than the rest of your friends. While they went to college, you found yourself a job that was flexible enough for you to raise Dash until he started school.
You worked what felt like nonstop, not taking any unnecessary breaks and in your eyes, it worked out. Dash life could only go up from here.
Yours, however, you aren’t so sure. You were living backwards because while you’re sure your friends lived their own lives in college - dating or sleeping around - you were raising a child. Now, you were experiencing something you could have experienced in your early twenties.
You told yourself that you were done entertaining whatever it was you had with Jungkook. Your reality check should’ve come that night when Dash found you and Jungkook together, but of course it hadn’t - living life backwards. You allowed Jungkook right back into your home yet again while he was drunk and highly emotional that led to a night of intense passionate sex that you constantly think about.
Which also led you here with a positive pregnancy test sitting on your bathroom counter. You stare at it intensely, hoping that maybe you were just illiterate. That the 8 letter word clearly written on the test didn’t mean what it actually did. However, the other 4 you took and promptly threw away couldn’t be lying, either.
You close your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose. All these years, you were careful. Sure, you had hookups, but they led nowhere - and definitely not to a pregnancy.
You’ve gotten careless. Dash being out of the home caused you to live the life you didn’t in your youth. Only, you weren’t young anymore - you were a mother to a soon to be college graduate; one you just got back into good graces with.
You do what you do best, however. Throw away the test and do what you were planning on doing this morning.
You haven’t heard from Dae in nearly a month, something you were grateful for. But you knew the man well and if he said he was coming for your home, he meant it. Packing up everything you owned was a hassle, but you managed well with Dash coming and assisting. You and he spoke little and at the end of it, you both ate.
“I’m having dinner with them tonight.” Dash murmurs, shoving nearly half of the sandwich into his mouth.
You stop chewing. “Hm?”
“My…grandparents?” Dash swallows. It doesn’t sound less weird the more he says it aloud. “It’s a family dinner, apparently. They want me to,” he shrugs his shoulders. “grow accustomed to the family.”
Slowly, you nod your head. “That’s good.” It sounds more like a question than a statement. “You call me if that asshole tries anything.” your mood shifts instantly once you remember that Lee Dae is indeed family. “What changed your mind?”
Dash takes another few bites of his sandwich before responding. “Jungkook.”
Your ears perk at the name. You try your best not to react too much, afraid that maybe Dash was looking for a reaction out of you. Instead, you take a sip of your water.
“He apologized.” Dash continues. “Over and over again.”
Your stomach churns. You’ve managed to avoid Jungkook - how, you weren’t sure yourself - since that time you fell into temptation. Phone sex with the very man you told yourself you’d stay away from - living backwards.
“Are you two friends again?” you couldn’t help but ask. It weighs on you that you could have ruined something great for Dash and Jungkook.
Dash’s chewing slows a bit, contemplating the question. He tilts his head, voice a bit muffled. “Do you love him?” he questions.
Your stomach churns once more. “W-Why do you ask?” you shake your head. You haven’t given him a direct response the last time he asked.
“He told me he loves you.” Dash swallows, picking up the bottled water and downing the majority of it. “Said he has for a while now.”
Your mouth salivates and you attempt to swallow the uncomfortable feeling in your throat.
“Dash,” you exhale. You run a hand through your forehead. “it’s complicated.”
“To know if you love someone or if it was just sexual?” Dash knits his brows together. “I know I didn’t love Hana.”
Hana, you think.You remember the girl you’ve seen for dinner and never again. Definitely not the girl you’ve witnessed with him the night he found you with Jungkook.
“I know I like Sumi.” Dash continues. “I’m not sure if it’s love yet but…” he trails off, humming to himself just a bit “...I know it could come to that. She’s also the one that encouraged me to accept my inheritance and eventually the company.”
You widen your eyes. “Su…mi…” you say the name slowly. You want to ask questions as any mother would, but you’re unsure if it’s safe as of yet. You’re unsure if you could even show your face to her without feeling like an utter embarrassment of a mother. “I’m happy you have her.”
And it’s words that you mean. Dash is young and he has a long life to live. You’ll be happy whatever path he goes down that leads him into a life of succession.
Dash hums, watching you for a bit. You’re back to cleaning up, washing a few dishes and drying them by hand. Then, you proceed to wrap it in several newspapers before placing them inside a labeled box. He exhales through his nose. “I want you to have someone, too.”
You look up from the box you were now taping up. Again, your stomach churns.
“You’ve been alone-”
“Oh, wow.” you scrunch your brows together, only a bit offended. “I’m glad that you think I’ll be nothing but an old cat lady.” you joke.
Dash’s lips curl upwards. “You’d have about 5 if I wasn’t allergic.” he says, and for a split moment he recalls his skin reddening and his eyes watering at just being in the presence of one for far too long. 10 minutes to be exact. “What I mean is…” Dash takes a deep breath. “...I want you to be happy, too.”
“I am happy.” you murmur, voice low. You push the box aside. “Why do you think I’m not?”
“You put your life on hold to raise me alone. You didn’t have many friends or partners that lasted.”
This time, your heart jolts along with your churning stomach.
“And…I liked it when it was just the two of us at times. But,” Dash feels weird speaking so sentimentally with you. “I want you to have someone, too. Someone you love.”
Dash blinks his gaze to you. You notice the look on his face, one of uncertainty. Uncomfortableness.
“Dash-”
“Jungkook loves you.” Dash blurts out, his cheeks warm. He inhaled deeply, mentally counting for a few seconds before exhaling.
Oh, you think, and of course your stomach does more than churns. It rumbles loudly.
“I don’t understand it-”
Oh, you think once more. You nearly forgot that though Jungkook had something for older women, that your son didn’t. He thought women your age had to be nearing a nursing home.
“-but I can tell it’s more than something sexual. I started to think back to all the times when we’ve all been together. The way Jungkook would act when you weren’t around.”
You lean against the counter, staring intently at Dash as he rambles on. Your mouth continues to salivate but you swallow it back.
“And…I…love the two of you. A lot.” Dash looks away, his cheeks continue to warm. “So if…y-you don’t need my permission to date, of course, but…if you want to be with Jungkook,”
You feel it in the back of your throat now. You place a hand onto your mouth and attempt to keep it back.
“then I’ll respect it. As long as he makes you happy then I can move past it.”
Dash flinches when he hears you heave, and suddenly vomit all over the newly clean sink. He pushes himself back, the stool scraping against the floor. “M-Ma, are you okay?” he gasps.
You nod your head, wiping your mouth. You turn on the sink quickly. “I-I’m fine.” you lie. “J-Just wasn’t expecting that.”
Dash sighs, his shoulders slumping. You clean your mouth with the water. “You threw up because I gave you my blessing?” he deadpans.
No, you think, you vomited because you were obviously pregnant and the morning sickness was now getting to you. But, you would admit that Dash’s words did cause your heart to swell and your mind to swirl.
“Mommy~”
There’s a bouquet of roses in your face just as you open your front door. The breeze from outside runs through your home and seemingly echos off of the walls, having little furniture to dance through.
“Jungkook…” you trail off, your eyes glancing from the large bouquet to the man holding them behind them.
Jungkook’s sporting a wide grin, dark round eyes sparkling.
“...what are you doing here?” you question, taking the roses from the man.
“I came to see you, of course.” Jungkook responds. “I want to take you out.”
You snicker. “Take me out?”
Jungkook doesn’t find anything he said amusing. You on the other hand do.
Last week was when you spoke to Dash about, in his words, having his blessing to pursue Jungkook if you desired. It was the last time you and he spoke about it at all, you recall, as it was awkward for the both of you to.
You’re sure Dash has given the same speech to Jungkook himself as since that day, a new set of roses has ended up on your doorstep. Only this time, it was accompanied by Jungkook himself.
“Yes.” Jungkook nods. “I want to take you out on a date.”
Jungkook’s dressed casually, you note, a dark denim jacket that matches his jeans perfectly. “And where do you suggest we go?”
Jungkook’s smile widens. “Well, of course I want to show you off to the world as mine, but we know you wouldn’t do it.” he starts, and you roll your eyes. “So I was thinking a movie! It’ll be something easy to start with since we don’t have to hide anymore.”
“I see.” you hum. You turn around and step inside your home. Jungkook follows you, closing the door behind him. His eyes trail around the semi-empty home, labeled boxes neatly stacked on one another. “I’m sure Dash has spoken to you…about us?”
You were running out of space to fit the flowers. Most of your counters were already taking up previous bouquets.
“Yes.” Jungkook leans against the island as you round it to find room for the new set of roses. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think it’d ever happen,” he admits.
Jungkook remembers the night Dash had returned back late one night. The conversation began smoothly at first, with him asking subtle questions, that then led on to his childhood and how you always prioritized him over anything else. It made it easier for Dash to speak to him without looking in his eyes in the dark room, stating that he wouldn’t come in the way of whatever relationship he and you had.
“You wasted no time.” you tease, glancing up at the older man. “I was actually on my way out.”
“I noticed. I came to surprise you.” Jungkook hums. “Where were you going?”
You remain silent, pondering on Jungkook’s question.
You couldn’t tell the younger man where you were going. Nor could you tell him about the positive pregnancy tests you took - or the doctor visit that confirmed it.
“An appointment.” you respond coolly. “Just a check up.” you shrug your shoulders, but Jungkook notices the way your eyes glance away from his. “Have you been feeling sick? Dash told me you weren’t feeling well last week.”
You can feel your stomach churning right now just thinking about it all.
“What movie did you want to see?” you ask. You needed to change the subject entirely. You could always reschedule for tomorrow, you think. You had enough time.
“Whatever movie you’d want to see.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I heard Attack of the Killer Space-”
“You have to be joking.” you scoff. “Of all the movies, you would want to see that.”
“I heard that it was so bad, that it’s good!” Jungkook laughs, his hair bouncing as tosses his head back. “I don’t care what we watch, mommy, as long as we’re together.”
“You’re so corny.” you murmur. “Attack of the Killer Space Beetles it is, then.”
The theater was empty upon arrival and it was something both you and Jungkook expected. The seats are at the very top, the leather making noise as you and Jungkook sit down. The lights were already off and the movie had just begun when you and Jungkook arrived.
“I have our new five dates planned out.” Jungkook murmurs to you. He places his slushie in the cup holder to his right and opposite of you.
“Who says I’m going to keep going out with you?” you tease. “People are going to think I’m your mom.”
“I think you overestimate your appearance.” Jungkook lifts the arm rest that divides the two of you. “Besides, I call you mommy all the time.”
It’s embarrassing how quickly it took for Jungkook to be on you in the dark theater. Both of your seats are declined and his lips trail kisses along your neck, his tattooed hand holding you close.
“Kook-”
“Stop, no one’s coming in.” Jungkook interrupts, sinking his teeth teasingingly into your neck. “They don’t get paid enough to check on us, either.”
Your mind tells you that maybe this was Jungkook’s plan. Choose a bullshit movie that no one would see just so he could get you alone - something he could’ve done in the household, yet that wasn’t fun for a man his age, right? Especially not when he could freely hold your hand in public now.
“I missed you, mommy.”
Jungkook’s tongue trails upwards.
“I missed you, too.” you admit. Jungkook captures your lips on his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth to dance along yours.
There’s a familiar ache between your legs that only Jungkook is able to cause. You aren’t sure why you’re allowing this as if you’re his age, but it’s fun. It’s different - it’s new to you. You couldn’t ever resist Jungkook when it’s just the two of you and this only proves that he still has it wrapped around his finger.
“I should have known you didn’t have good intentions bringing me here.”
Even in the dark theater, you can still see Jungkook’s smirk. The shadows from the screen dance off his handsome face.
“You haven’t told me to stop yet.”
Jungkook’s hands are warm as they reach underneath your shirt, cupping your breast.
“I wanted to make our first official date memorable.” Jungkook squeezes your breast tightly. “Making you cum right here while Attack of the Killer Space Beetles play in the background.”
“You’re not fucking me here.” you say sternly.
“Of course not.” Jungkook nods. “That doesn’t mean you can’t cum.”
Jungkook tugs at your bra enough so your breast pops out. His free hand shoves your shirt up. Immediately, your eyes glance down towards the entrance.
“It’s too dark in here for anyone to even see what we’re doing.” Jungkook assures. “I don’t wanna wait any longer to taste them again.”
Jungkook wraps his greedy lips around your nipple, groaning against it. His free hand roughly shoves your shirt up and your bra down to release the other breast. He grips it in his palm, resulting in a surprised gasp from you. Your back arches a bit at the action, but sensations shoot right between your legs.
Jungkook pops your nipple from his lips, wet and hard. He goes towards the other one, his tongue circling the bed teasingly.
“Ah!” you moan, your eyes fluttering.
“Such pretty tits you have, mommy. I can’t believe I’ve gone so long without sucking them.” Jungkook grunts. “Now I don’t have to anymore~”
Jungkook’s fingers twist the free nipple between his thumb and index finger, tugging on it in a way that makes you moan even louder. This only makes you wetter and wetter, the pounding between your legs growing by the second.
“You suck them so good, Kookie.” you couldn’t help but praise him. You were just a woman, yourself, who craved him just as much as he craved you. “You must’ve really missed me, huh?”
“Fuck,” Jungkook captures the nipple entirely now, and between suckles he says, “so much, mommy. Missed you so fucking much.”
The theater is loud, dramatic music booming off of the walls along with screaming people running on the screen. Whatever is happening in the movie, you’re unaware. You’re far too enthralled in Jungkook and the way he suckles on your breast as if his life depended on it. Even in the dark, you can see just how captivated he is by it all - popping the bud from his lips just to circle it with the tip of his tongue teasingly.
“I bet you’re so wet right now.” Jungkook murmurs, eyes flickering up to meet yours. Your expression is one he missed experiencing. “You’re so pretty, mommy~”
Jungook doesn’t hesitate. He’s got you right where he wants you; all to himself. His hand reaches down to your jeans and swiftly undones the button. His hands sneak their way through while your thighs widen to allow him.
“I knew I was right!” Jungkook grunts, greedy fingers making their way through your panties to touch your clit. It’s puffy and throbbing - and soaked. “Pussy missed being played with, huh?”
“Y-Yes!” you nod, warmth filling your cheeks. Jungkook’s dynamic always catches you off guard - for the better . In an instant, he could go from the sweet, submissive cutie who suckled on your breast like it was his life force, to a dominant man that spoke so vulgar to you.
If Jungkook could, he’d have you right here. He’d pull your jeans right off, push your panties aside and fuck you until you were full of him. But he understands that he couldn’t go that far - not here at least.
Jungkook’s finger trails along your clit, not even bothering on starting off softly. No, he knows you. He knows just how you want it.
Jungkook often thinks back to the first time he’s approached you right in the kitchen of your home. He’s found your profile, the flashing “There’s HOT MILFS in your area waiting for YOU to FUCK THEM!” right above the picture of your naked body. Any other time Jungkook would’ve ignored it, but he knew that face. It was you, of all people. The same woman he’s silently pinned after and in his mind, it was a sign.
Your pussy is messy and leaking. Your hand reaches out to wrap around Jungkook’s wrist for support. “K-Kook!” you mewl out, thighs trembling.
“You like that, mommy?” Jungkook snickers. Your breast bounces just a bit and it captivates Jungkook back towards your hardened nipples once more. Again, his lips wrap around it, suckling on it until it’s swollen and glistening. “Let’s see,”
You gasp out, eyes widening a bit when Jungkook’s twirling fingers slide down - quite easily due to how soaked you are - to your clenching hole. He dips in two fingers easily until they’re knuckles deep.
Your head falls back against the leather seat, your stomach churning. Jungkook’s finger thrusts in and out of you, screams now erupting throughout the theater. A week prior Jungkook had seen this same movie just to see how ridiculous it was. The main actress, he’d admit, was attractive, but that was all. The cgi was terrible and he’s unsure why it was showing in theaters at all.
“Fuck, Kookie, it feels so good!” you groan, your lower back arching so you could feel more of Jungkook’s thrusting fingers. Your eyes squeeze shut, mind going blank. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed Jungkook - his tongue, his fingers; just him. Your own fingers or vibrator wasn’t a match for the man that is Jeon Jungkook.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers, mommy.” Jungkook’s teeth graze into the skin of your breast, adding enough pressure to assure that he leaves his mark. “You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you later.”
You bite your lip, but somehow a moan slips through. The thought of Jungkook between your legs again has your stomach churning again, the throbbing only intensifying.
“You’re gripping my fingers, mommy. You want my tongue, don’t you?” Jungkook asks smugly. “I’ll eat this pussy all night. Gotta make up for the times you took away from me~”
“I-I’m gonna cum!” you hiss, your legs closing around Jungkook’s hand. “You always make mommy feel so good, baby.”
Jungkook groans, his cock throbbing in his pants. And like that, the switch flips and he changes. He goes back to the whimpering, submissive Kookie you knew, the one that would beg so sweetly in your ear.
“Fuck, mommy, I need you.” Jungkook sighs, pounding his fingers inside your gummy walls. His fingertips slam against that sweetspot. “I need to feel this sweet pussy around me again.”
You’re cumming, hard and fast. Your moaning is drowned out by the sound of the CGI Space Beetles being blown to pieces. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist loosens, your chest rising and falling as you pant.
Whenever you were with Jungkook, your mind always failed to act right. You’ve done things you’d never thought about doing - like being in a cramped cinema stall with the younger man. You're lucky that said cinema is nearly empty with even younger employees that could care less about roaming the halls.
The restrooms are located at the far end of the cinema, so quiet that you could hear pieces of another movie from theater 16 right across from the rest room.
“Fuuuuck,” Jungkook groans as he enters you, his cock sliding deep inside of you. “so wet and so tight.”
Jungkook’s hands are tight around your waist, his cock plunging in and out of you so needily. Your pussy is squelching only loud enough to echo off of the quiet restroom walls. Your body is pressed against the cool stall door, your breast bouncing against it with each thrust.
“You g-gotta slow down, Kookie.” you pant, but the way your cunt squeezes around his cock tells him otherwise.
“No one’s here, mommy.” Jungkook’s thrusts are hard and quick, your ass slamming against his groin. “I don’t think I could hold back from fucking this pussy. It’s been too long.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong, you think. It’s been far too long and you’re far too weak to fight for silence - so you don’t. Instead, you moan even louder, your mind blurring until all you could focus on was the cock you’d miss inside of you. Your thighs are soaked with both cum and your juices, his cock messy with creamy white arousal.
“Then don’t hold back, baby.” you choke out, widening your thighs. The sane part of you - the one who would think about this moment with slight regret and judgment - is screaming. This is the exact reason why you, a grown woman with a grown son the same age as the man you’re fucking, was pregnant. “Show mommy how much you missed her pussy.”
And show you Jungkook does, over and over again. His nails dig into your soft, hot skin, angry cock pounding into your cervix so aggressively, stretching you so obscenely. He’s merciless, leaving you utterly sloppy and begging for more.
A hand reaches around your neck to bring you back against his chest. Jungkook’s tongue licks up from your neck, to your ear before forcing its way towards your mouth. You open your mouth wider to invite him into a messy kiss, your whimpers now suffocating in his mouth.
“Gonna fuck this pussy all night, mommy. Make up all the time I had lost.” Jungkook says against your wet mouth. “This pussy was made for me, mommy. It’s finally all mine to claim.”
Your hip is let go, but that doesn’t mean Jungkook takes his hands off of you. No, he has to torture you even more. He finds your puffy clit, his fingers twirling the bud aggressively, your cunt squeezing his cock even tighter - just how he likes it.
“All yours, Kookie.” you mewl out, tongue sliding against his sloppily. There’s a trail of saliva pooling from your lips, but neither of you care. It’s messy and completely obscene, but both of you are far too fucked out to give a damn. “Want you to fill me up aaalll night.”
You prided yourself on being a responsible adult for over two decades and now you’re throwing everything out for amazing dick. This, you remind yourself, was why you were pregnant. You cancelled your appointment to fix this very problem - a problem you told yourself you would keep to yourself and take with you to your grave - for this very dick.
“You’re so dirty.” Jungkook gasps, but he’s just as determined as you are to cum in you. His thrusts become sloppy, fingers circling erratically against your clit, juices coating your thighs.
You cum hard, your eyes squeezed shut tightly that you’re seeing nothing but stars. You’re panting, chest rising and falling and you’re a trembling mess of overstimulation.
Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrusts are sloppy, yet still deep and passionate. He doesn’t care about being quiet as with each thrust, he’s groaning loudly, spewing out - “shit, shit, shit” until he himself is cumming deep inside of you, so much that the seed spews out and down your thighs.
It takes five minutes for the both of you to come down from the high and another five minutes for you to get cleaned up. You’re grateful that you and Jungkook weren’t caught, the adrenaline you felt while doing the do now dies down and like you knew you would, you regret every decision you’ve made. However, you would be lying if you said you didn’t think it was fun - and entirely hot, especially with the way Jungkook looks at you through the restroom mirror. You finish washing your hands and you turn to face him.
“I’m hungry.” Jungkook says, coming closer to you. He leans down a bit to capture your lips. “I want steak.” he murmurs against your lips.
“I bet you are.” you say back, your body moving before your mind could and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into another kiss. “I have steak at home. I was planning on cooking in case Dash was coming over.”
“He’s with Sumi tonight.” Jungkook responds, pressing another kiss onto your lips. He missed kissing you. “How about I cook for us tonight? Then, I’ll fuck you into the mattress-”
You push at his chest gently and roll your eyes. “You have a dirty mouth.” you joke, but the words do have you swallowing at the possibilities of the night to come. “You’re wasting no time, huh?”
Jungkook leans away. “Of course not. What I say even during sex, I mean.” Jungkook responds. “I plan on courting you the right way. No more sneaking around.”
Jungkook looks at you, his eyes serious.
“And I plan on having a future with you.”
You break eye contact first. You round Jungkook and go towards the restroom door. You open in slowly, your eyes scanning to see if anyone was near. When you see no one, you exit, Jungkook close behind you.
“I’m serious,” Jungkook captures your shoulder to stop you from going further. “about everything I said.”
You exhale, unaware that you’d been holding your breath this long.
“Kook-”
“No.” Jungkook interrupts. “We don’t have to talk about it here. Or now.” he murmurs. He didn’t want to scare you away. Everything was still new. It would take time for you to get back out there publicly and not hide behind closed doors anymore. He didn’t want to rush anything, but he wanted you to know that he wanted you.
“I want you to know that-”
Your phone rings in your pockets. Jungkook stops his speech. He watches the way you seemingly pale, your eyes zoning in on the number on your screen. “I gotta take this.” you murmur. “How about you go to the car? I’ll meet you out there.”
Jungkook blinks. “O…Okay?”
You offer a smile - a strained one - before entering the restroom. Jungkook lingers for a few moments. He doesn’t listen. Instead, he presses his hands gently onto the door and cracks it open.
Your voice is low and muffled, but the restroom is so quiet that he can hear you.
“Yes, I had to reschedule the appointment.” you say. “No…I’m not having second thoughts. I need the procedure done.” There’s a few more seconds of silence. “Yes, I’ll get on birth control. I think that’ll be best after.”
Jungkook shuts the restroom door. He turns on his heels and makes his way down the hall. His mind swirls with what little he’s heard.
Reschedule the appointment.
Second thoughts.
Procedure.Birth control after.
trivia-yandere: okay so like what are we thinking??
you have never wanted children. at least, that's what you told yourself — until you watched your husband feed your niece ice cream like she hung the moon, and something you thought you'd buried a long time ago quietly came back to life.
ᨳଓ ՟ tags/warnings ⋆˚࿔
fluff, established relationship, married couple, husband!jungkook, girl dad jungkook (technically uncle but we know), discussions of wanting children, emotional confession, soft!jungkook, domestic bliss, a child who commits ice cream crimes, happy ending
ᨳଓ ՟ word count ⋆˚࿔
~2.0k
For years on end, you have stifled the desire to raise children. It isn’t a lack of love for the life that could be, but a fear of the world it would awaken to—a place far too jagged for such sweet, cherubic souls.
But certainty is often non-linear.
Your gaze follows the careful movements of your husband, tending to his five-year-old niece — Hae-in — with the patience he reserves for your late night musings.
The little brunette is curled up on his lap with her wondrous doe eyes, tracking the rollercoaster his hand has become as he keeps the spoonful of ice cream just out of her reach, before bringing it to her waiting mouth with a theatrical woosh! noise. And every time, her cheeks flush like peaches under the sun, followed by endearing giggles.
Jungkook exists the way gravity does — effortless, inevitable, the kind of pull that makes everything orient towards him. And the moment settles in your heart like an old love letter — tucked way, but never truly forgotten.
However, your body seems to tug you towards the familiar laughter of your lover — bright, unguarded — anchoring you back to the familiar warmth of the living room. Your heart flips at the vision of his head thrown back in delight, eyes turned into tiny crescents that you long to feel under your fingertips.
Instead, your words come out a little breathless. Fond. “Penny for your laughter, darling?”
Jungkook barely manages to speak up between those melodic giggles, but his head is tilted slightly towards Hae-in, who is now giving him a traitorous glare for painting her button nose with chocolate ice cream, her cheeks puffed up like she’s beyond all this.
“Oh Christ—” He can’t even finish. Just dissolves back into laughter.
For the sake of her tiny pride, you stifle your giggle and press your lips together. Instead, your feet take you toward the adorable crime scene. Crouching down to be on eye-level with her, you flash her an understanding smile. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, your fingers gentle as they swipe away any traces of the sticky sweetness from her offended nose. “We must find a way to get back at your Uncle, hmm?” you cheekily suggest, earning an affirmative nod from her.
“Yes! Uncle Koo-Koo must be punished!”
The enthusiasm in her voice coaxes a warm laugh out of you. Though you seem oblivious to the heart-stopping gaze your husband directs at you. It is only when he lets out a soft gasp — realizing the mischief you directed through your niece’s ice cream laden fingers, now painting his nose in chocolate brown — that pulls your gaze to his reaction with a victorious smirk.
Yet again, any retort he might have ready on the tip of his tongue is swallowed by Hae-in’s chirp voice echoing in the space between you. “Silly Uncle!”
“Silly?! You wound me, princess.”
His lower lip juts out in a childish pout for emphasis.
Hae-in giggles, not fazed in the slightest by his theatrics. If anything, her arms reach up to you in solidarity to which you celebrate your successful revenge by scooping her up and your beloved husband receives the playful image of you sticking your tongue out at him.
“Oh no, my own wife is teaming up against me!”
“Heh. Gotta back up my princess, after all.”
“Woah—”
Hae-in, always one step ahead, declares smugly: “Aunt Y/N loves Hae-in more than Uncle Koo-Koo!”
“Oh, you brat—”
You laugh, warm and unguarded. Not even realizing the way your lover’s breath stills with something like realization and longing as you cradle Hae-in snugly to your chest and kiss her temple. Old letters are impossible not to revisit.
.☘︎ ݁˖
All good things must come to an end — however temporarily — because when Jungsu knocks on your door with a grateful smile and warm hugs, there’s a bittersweet reluctance that makes home in the space between your ribs. More so when Jungkook bribes Hae-in with more ice cream for next time to which the little sunshine responds by sloppily kissing his cheek.
“Uncle Koo-Koo is the best!”
“Oh, is he now?” He chuckles knowingly.
You, for your part, take it all in with a pensive smile on your lips. The ache in your chest threatens to consume you, but you lock that door and hope, quietly, that Jungkook will find the key. You’ve never been good at saying the thing out loud, but you’re getting better at hoping someone will ask.
The journey is always unpredictable, but in this moment — observing the same reluctance in your husband’s posture, the way his eyes follow Hae-in until the elevator closes behind them — shows you that maybe, just maybe… you’re not as alone as you think.
.☘︎ ݁˖
With night comes the blooming scent of jasmine, encompassing the air with floral, creamy notes. It mingles with your own scent of sweet coconut and citrus — washing away everything but the stubborn ache in your chest.
Occasionally, the ache is stifled when you focus on the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s heartbeat beneath your ear, your head tucked under his chin. But it returns with an persistence that’s hard to lock away as meaningless. The golden lamplight holds steady. You do not. You ignore it — choosing, instead, to focus on his fingers threading through your hair with tender reverence, his inked arm wrapped around your waist protectively.
A moment of silence passes. Then another. You sigh. Lifting your head just enough to glance at him, you note his closed eyelids and the tiny, peaceful smile on his plush lips.
"Koo…?" you call out, soft and hesitant.
"Mm?"
He lazily peeks an eye open. "What is it, jagiya?"
Despite your scattered thoughts, your lips twitch up in fond amusement at his endearing habit. He’s all sharp, beautiful curves framed by the amber glow.
As if sensing your conversational demeanor, his eyes flutter open to meet yours with renewed interest and curiosity.
“I’ve been thinking…” you start, albeit too careful. “The day passed beautifully because of Hae-in. Don’t you think so?”
Waiting for his reply, your thumb caresses over his cheekbone.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his own thumb stroking small circles on your hip. “She’s a delight, really. Got me wrapped around her little finger with a look.”
He chuckles, then adds: “Even if she loved the ice cream more than me.”
A warm huff of agreement escapes your lips. But then you go quiet again. Your thoughts drift before you can stop them. “The house seemed to bloom with her giggles,” you muse.
Jungkook hums low in his throat. His fingers curl around your own as he brings them to his lips for a kiss to each one of your fingers. In-between kisses, he speaks— “Felt like some kind of untainted melody. I was in awe every time she smiled.”
I was in awe of you, you almost say.
Instead, you let the silence speak for itself. The warmth blooms into something sweeter as you reflect on the afternoon spent with your niece.
Jungkook props himself up on an elbow this time, his gaze roaming over your face.
It’s as if he’s trying to peek into your soul. “What?” you mumble.
He smiles knowingly. “You looked really happy with her. And she seemed smitten with you.”
“Eh, don’t flatter me like that.”
“I call it as I see it, jagiya.” A pause, then warmer: “She adores you.”
Your cheeks flush a charming pink. "She does?"
Jungkook hums, but it comes out more like a disbelieving huff. Almost like he can't comprehend how someone could be so unaware of the way she moves through the world — all quiet care and instinctive warmth, like she doesn't even notice herself doing it.
“Hyung told me she’s usually very reserved around people, but she immediately teamed up with you—”
That earns him a small laugh from you. He grins, continuing. "So yes, jagiya. She adores you.”
Deep down, maybe the thought had already taken root, but his assurance has made it bloom and settle in your chest like flowers on an endless pathway — briefly lessening the ache. The unknown ache. Where does it lead you?
You try to make sense of it, but it tangles like a knot the more you do. But as you think back to the time you spent with Hae-in, you’re reminded of the trust and affection she so sweetly directed at you, and it cracks something open in your chest.
A deep, suppressed melancholy.
Before your mind even catches up to the frown on your lips, or the single tear slipping down your cheek, you’re being cradled against a broad chest. Jungkook’s warmth envelopes you like a shield against your own thoughts — the familiar woody scent of his skin pulling you back from the longing quietly unraveling at the edges of your heart.
He doesn’t demand, doesn’t offer empty words — just holds you like a delicate, contradictory poem. “I’ve got you, jagiya.”
“Koo…” you breathe out, your voice shaky at the edges. “I— I don’t understand what I’m feeling. Everything feels tangled up with no loose ends.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s no rush.”
His lips brush against your temple in reassurance. “Breathe with me.”
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Following the instructions, you repeat it until your heartbeat is far less erratic.
Even so, your thoughts flow like an endless stream, all pointing to directions you’re too afraid to admit even to yourself.
But when his arms tighten around you to hold you more snugly, you reach for the bravery you’ve not yet developed. “I…” you start, but trail off soon after.
“You what, jagiya?” he prompts gently, pulling back slightly to look at your face. He brushes a strand of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and smiles patiently.
A soft pause and then:
"Whatever it is—you're not alone, sweet girl," he promises, well aware of how words tend to fail you when it matters most. “Never.”
You search his eyes for something — sincerity? acknowledgement? — and when you find it, the last of your frustration melts away into something like longing.
“I want to be a mother,” you confess. Your voice comes out too soft, almost like you’re afraid to let the words exist out in the world.
Jungkook goes still as a statue, his mind working hard to process your current words with the reality of your past ones. A flicker of doubt passes over his features. “Baby—”
“No,” you interrupt gently. “I know what you’re going to say. But, it’s not a temporary ‘baby fever’ because of Hae-in. It’s—” You pause, gauging his reaction. “It’s because of you, Kook. I saw how happy you were with her. And I remember how happy we both were. It made me realize that even when the world is cruel, the softness, the love — it starts with us.”
Jungkook is silent yet again. It lingers in the air like hope and anticipation. You almost take everything back until you notice the tears welling up in his eyes.
“Hey, hey—” You palms cradle his face with reverence preserved for prayers. “What’s wrong, honey? Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. It’s just…” Sighing softly, he leans in until your foreheads are pressed together. “I’m so overwhelmed with emotions, jagiya. That’s all.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” you offer warmly.
There’s a moment of silence as he gathers his thoughts. When he speaks up, his warm breath ghosts over your lips.
“I didn’t expect this. I never thought you’d change your mind,” he admits. “And it’s not that I wasn’t happy earlier — it was a mutual agreement, after all — but… if this is what you truly want, there’s no one else I'd rather start a family with, jagiya."
“I want this, Koo,” you affirm, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “I think I’ve been haunted by the narrative of my own childhood for the longest time. But after seeing how naturally we fit in with Hae-in — it gave me something like courage.”
“You’re not your parents, jagiya. Their patterns are not yours to carry anymore."
(This is mostly mama and baby domestic fluff. Sukuna is mentioned briefly at end.)
Your and Sukuna's 4-month-old daughter, Yuki, doesn't understand the world yet. Neither does she understand why mama puts her down sometimes.
She just knows mama means happiness.
━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━
Sunshine spilled through the curtain of your bedroom. Sukuna just left for work. You came back into you guys' bedroom after breakfast to find your tiny pink haired baby squirming in her sleep sack.
"Good morning, baby." You coo happily while taking her out of the sleepsack.
Yuki stretches and looks around for a bit until her eyes land on you. She immediately starts kicking.
"Ahh!" She squeals, as if to greet you good morning.
You feed her, take her out, show her the birds outside.
Now you're sitting on the living room floor with Yuki lying on a soft blanket beside you while you fold laundries.
Every few minutes you look back.
Yuki looks back.
Smiles from both sides.
It becomes a game.
Look away. Look back. Smile.
"You're so silly." You giggle while Yuki flails happily.
Later at evening you hold her in your warm embrace, gently patting her back.
"My precious baby..." You mutter softly. Pregnancy was hard. Giving birth was hard. Raising a baby is hard.
But you'd do it all over again to hold your tiny sunshine baby like this.
At night, you watch from the couch while Sukuna plays with Yuki on the living room floor with a soft smile. The man is making funny faces, blowing raspberries in her tummy, tickling her tiny feet. And she was obviously having the time of her life, well, duh, because papa is here.
sukuna defending you from his friends! tags: fluff, rushed, uhhh some violence. sukuna x shy!femreader!!!!!!!!!!!
sukuna had one arm draped over your shoulder, pulling you close to his side as you both stand outside the front door of his friends house.
tonight was the night you were going to meet his friends.
your nerves were through the roof, your hands were clammy and your stomach felt like you were on a roller coaster that was twisting, turning and looping voraciously.
you’ve never been good with… people. how you managed to pull sukuna is a mystery. you’re so shy that you practically border on recluse.
sukuna looks at your from the side of his eye. “relax, baby. they’ll like you.” he says, chuckling despite himself at your anxiety. “what if they don’t?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “then we’ll leave.” he shrugged. he banged on the door again. “open the fuckin door.” he says impatiently but with no real anger behind it.
the door swings open and reveals one of his friends, satoru; standing there with a stupid grin. “yo, suks’.” he daps sukuna up. they say their greetings until his eyes land on you. “who’s this?” he asks, his tone lowering and becoming dismissive. you looked up at sukuna, expecting him to answer for you, he just raises one eyebrow, signalling for you to introduce yourself on your own. “i—uh… i’m [name]. sukunas girlfriend..” you mumble, your eyes darting around nervously. his friends eyes scan you up and down critically. “yeah… okay.. m’satoru.” he says quickly. sukunas eyes narrow at the dismissive body language and tone. he noticed it, of course he did. but decided to see how far satoru would push.
satoru leads the two of you inside his house where there are already some people sitting down on the couches. your fingers stays intertwined with sukunas’ the entire time, sukuna finds an empty spot on the couch and sits down, pulling you down with him.
your knee bounces nervously, sukuna puts his large hand over it whilst focusing on the conversation his friends are having. he offered a small smirk as quiet reassurance that it’s okay.
or so you thought????
you stayed quiet in the conversation majority of the time until one of the others guys, suguru, looks at you and decided to talk to you. “so… you’re [name], right? sukunas new girlfriend?” his tone was almost… condescending? but you couldn’t tell if that was just your nerves making you think that. “yeah..” you nodded, giving a small smile. he pauses and eyes you down the same way satoru did before, his eyes filled with judgement. “right.. right.” he looks away.
the rest of the time went by slowly, you stayed quiet majority of the time. until a topic of conversation got brought up about hobbies. one of the hobbies that you took part in got brought up. sukuna nudges you. “yknow.. my girlfriend loves art, don’t you?” he wraps an arm around your waist. “u-uh.. yeah, i paint ‘n.. stuff.” you said shyly. satoru glances at you for a second then at suguru and bursts into laughter. “seriously, who even is this bitch?” satoru gasps out through laughter. your face burns with embarassment, sukunas gentle strokes on your hip paused. “the fuck did you just say?” he removed his arm from you completely and stood up to slowly walk to satoru. towering over him. satoru was carelessly manspread on the couch, holding a can of bear. “what? she just waltzes in here, sits there all quiet, she’s— she’s literally taking up space! why would you even invite her if she’s gonna be boring? she’s not even that hot either!” satoru laughs at his own mean commentary, suguru follows along with his wheezes of laughter.
before satoru can say anything else, sukunas fist was already wound up and crashing down on his face. his whole body snapping to the side as well as his head, the sheer strength of the bunch sent him on the plush carpet of his lavish house. “say it again. i fucking dare you.” his voice a low growl. sugurus laughter was sharply cut off, he sat there frozen in shock. these six-foot-something guys were shit scared of sukuna who was literally in the same height and weight range as them. satoru spat out the blood that was dripping out his mouth. “it was just a joke..” satorus voice was strained. he held his jaw with one hand and cowardly looked away from sukuna. “apologise. the two of you. apologise to my fuckin girlfriend.” your eyes widened. sukuna drags satoru up by his collar and drags him to your feet. “i-i’m.. so sorry, i’ll never say that again. i didn’t mean it.” he babbled on and on. the other friends that were previously attending this hangout were sitting there stunned. suguru sat there wide eyed before apologising to you frantically as to not be next. you waved them off shyly. “i-it’s okay. really, it’s fine.”
you looked up at sukuna, he immediately sensed your discomfort and lingering mortification. “let’s just fucking go.” he grabbed your arm; the veins on his temples popping out from suppressed rage.
“i should’ve done more to those fuckers.” he hissed, turning on the engine. “kuna’, it’s okay..” you put a hand on his shoulder. he turned his head to look at you and his eyes softened. his anger seemed to slowly fade away. “i’m never talking to them again, im blocking them as soon as we get home, i hate them, how dare they talk to my girlf—“ you cut his oncoming rant off. “sukuna,” you said softly, offering him a small smile, “it’s okay. i promise.” you kissed his cheek. he sighed heavily. “alright… they didn’t upset you too much, did they?” he asked roughly, you could tell he was a little bit worried.
you huffed a small laugh. “i’m okay, sukuna.”
a/u yo yo yo am i still relevant lmk lmk lmk!! soz i haven’t been writing much i literally moved states so that’s been super fun (no it’s HELL) and i’ve been so busy settling in. send me more requests though! this was originally a request from TWO MONTHS AGO. i never got around to doing it though. sorry to whoever requested. i might rewrite later, this is kinda ass.
the rare moments when sukuna is actually clingy and acts like he's yours>>
you hadn't even made it out of bed before sukuna's arms were wrapping around you, pulling you back down against your shared bed. his movements were sluggish, still tired from sleep, but awake enough to realize you were trying to leave.
he pulls you back against him, all four arms wrapped around you tight, holding your body flush against his. two of his hands gripped your waist, the others splaying out against your front, keeping you close against his chest.
"what are you doing..?"
he mutters lowly, his voice rough and gravely from just waking up. you feel your stomach flutter, even after hearing his voice every morning for years, you still weren’t used to it.
you bring your hands up, grabbing onto his forearms and turning your head to look back at him, which only made the fluttering in your stomach worsen tenfold.
his eyes were half-lidded, narrowed in on you; if you didn't know him any better, you would think he was glaring at you. his pink hair was ruffled, short spikes going in every direction. his lips were downturned in a small frown; clearly, he hadn't been happy at the thought of you leaving.
"getting up?"
you reply, an amused smile finding your face as you turn in his grasp. he didn't stop you, letting you turn until you were chest to chest with him.
sukuna grumbles at your words, frowning further, his arms tightening around you instinctively, as if preparing for you to try and get up out of his arms again.
"no."
is all he says, pulling you even closer. the second your cheek hit his collarbone, you wanted to melt against him. he was so warm and soft. the skin of his chest wasn't like his hands, having built up years of calluses; instead, it was smooth, almost like a baby's.
you almost wanted to give in, to just go back to sleep in sukuna's arms; his warmth was inviting and practically calling your name. before you could even make a complaint sukuna's voice continues.
"you don't need to 'get up'."
he murmurs, his fingers starting to trace little patterns on your back, effectively destroying any possible retort you had. at your silence, sukuna starts to relax again, slowly letting himself fall back asleep, but you weren't gonna give in that easily.
you slide your hand up his side, gripping his side and trying to push back, pulling your head up away from sukunas. sukuna only grumbles, arms tightening further around you, wrapped around you like a vice.
after a challenging battle of pushing away from sukuna’s grasp, you somehow manage to loosen his grip, arms still locked around you, but now in a loose hold.
slowly you start sliding down, shuffling out of his grasp, carefully throwing your legs over the edge of the mattress before standing.
you made sure every movement was silent. nothing got past sukuna so you had to put up your best shot.
after making sure the coast was clear and you got off scott free, you turn, ready to start the day, even if sukuna didn’t want to.
“where are you going…?”
a hand reaches forward—then another, both of his right hands lock around your arm, tugging you back against him, into your rightful spot next to him.
this time you sigh, reaching up to pat his back, trying to get him to do something.
“ryo…”
he only exhales through his nose, eyes closed, purposefully avoiding looking at you.
“ryo.. the sun is starting to rise. it’s time to-”
before you could finish your sentence, sukuna rolls, taking you with him, laying fully on top of you, almost crushing you with his sheer weight.
your face was smushed against his neck, body completely shadowed by sukuna’s. sukuna presses his face into your hair, clearly telling you he wasn’t letting you win this.
after a few moments of silence and contemplation, you huff, begrudgingly wrapping your arms around his waist, accepting your fate as sukuna’s favorite pillow.
sukuna shifts, bringing his top set of arms to slip under your head, his lower set of arm staying wrapped tight around you. he finally relaxes, seemingly pleased with your submission.
if this was what it took to stay by his side, you didn’t mind, you’d probably do anything for that stubborn pink haired man.
besides he was really warm, and he did smell good…
—————————————————————————————
guys it’s 3:45am. that’s funny. I am NOT proof reading, I cringe when I read my writing too soon.
warnings/contents: in love with each other and everyone can see it (even them). friends to lovers. reader is implied to be younger than hotch. insecure reader. reader swears like a sailor. derek and emily being the goats. a bit of violence - reader is a badass and she kicks ass. mentions of death, guns, shots, injuries. hotch has a love confession that is bridgerton coded. humour. they make -out. sexual happenings but no smut. let me know what y'all think!
song inspo earrings - malcolm todd
word count: 6.0k+
masterlist | ask
hotch masterlist
There was an unspoken thing between you and Hotch. One that everyone that could pick up on, regardless of whether you’ve worked with them before or not. Even if everyone knew about it, it was just between the two of you. Your relationship was built in the rare quietness that working in the BAU allowed.
The late nights in his office, talking about nothing and everything while you helped him with paperwork. The late nights in the hotel room where one of you ended up in each other’s room.
You never placed a word for what was between you. Never defined it, and never needed to. The moments between the two of you, the unspoken gestures, the brief glances and touches were enough.
And you were happy with that. Until now. Until her.
She was new. Doing rotations around the different departments, see which one she fit in. Something that you did when you were a new recruit in the FBI.
Madeleine was like the calm in the storm, you could sense Hotch being at ease in her presence. She was kind, never talked back unlike you now. She followed orders to a T, and whether that was because she was new, or her personality, you didn’t particularly care to find out.
She reminded you of you, in the early days of the BAU. Before you became comfortable in your skin, and knew who you were. The one that Hotch gravitated towards.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” Emily scoffed into her drinks as she watched you throw daggers at Hotch and Madeleine.
“I’m not,” you stubbornly murmured, your eyes still finding the two. She was way too near, way too bold for a shiny-eyed recruit in the face of someone who was her superior, and who had the reputation of a hard-ass.
But here he was. Not being the Hotch that you knew. He was smiling down at her, and he never smiles at anyone. Well, that was false. He smiled at you, and sometimes Rossi, but mostly at you. He never directed it to anyone else.
“Please, Hotch is like a lovesick puppy when he’s with you,” Emily rolled her eyes.
“I mean, maybe she’s good for him, you know?” You started, a frown on your pretty face. “She’s calm, she’s nice, she’s quiet and she doesn’t backtalk to him, or undermine him when he sends out orders,” you gulped. “He deserves something good.”
Derek flicked your head causing you to rub your head in pain. “Derek, what the fuck?”
“Don’t ever sell yourself short like that, kid,” Derek warned, his finger pointed at you. “If anything, Hotch is lucky that you’re looking at him.”
“Hear, hear,” Emily agreed. “You are a bombshell, and he’s,” Emily looked towards Hotch, “just a man.”
“You’re the best thing for him,” Derek said softly. “I’ve never seen him this happy.”
You smiled at the kind words thrown by them, it was nice to have it wash over you until you looked over to the cause of your pain. She was touching his arm now, practically on top of him. He never allowed the team to touch him, minus you.
“I’m gonna head out to lunch before everyone takes the brisket again,” you removed yourself from the group and heading towards the cafeteria.
You were too in your head that you didn’t realise that Spencer called out your name, pouting slightly when you didn’t respond. “Don’t take it personally, kid,” Derek clapped his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “She thinks that Hotch is in love with the new recruit.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Spencer replied, confusion in his tone. “Everyone knows that Hotch is in love with her.”
“Well,” Derek stretched out the word and looked at Hotch and Madeleine. “Can you blame her though?”
“It’s probably not what it looks like,” Spencer frowned. “Maybe she just has daddy issues and Hotch is fulfilling that role.”
Derek barked out a laugh, while Emily grinned in amusement. “Don’t think that helps the scene, kid.”
The conversation naturally died down as Hotch approached the table, Madeleine in tow. Emily couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Sure, Canavan was a nice kid. A bit too nice for Emily’s liking, a bit too fake and green-eyed, but maybe she was biased. She was fond of you afterall.
“She’s gone,” Emily provided, not looking up from her book and before Hotch could ask the question. “To lunch.”
All she received was a frown from Hotch. Taking out his phone, he looked at the screen before humming and excused himself before leaving in the same direction that you did.
“Oh no, kid, don’t even think about it,” Derek stopped Madeleine from following Hotch. “That’s their time. I would not interrupt that. And I would not get in between them.”
“Yeah, one time I did and not that Hotch would ever admit it, but I think he hated me at that moment,” Spencer smiled tightly, looking at Madeleine.
“Are they together?”
“Worse.”
“Worse?” She repeated, not quite getting the obvious inside joke between the team.
“They’re practically in love but too them to say anything,” Emily snarked, looking at the girl in front of her. Narrowing her eyes briefly, she saw the despondent look on the other girl’s face.
“Oh.”
“So, don’t think about it,” Derek warned. “As nice as you are, those two only ever revolve around each other.”
-
“There you are,” Hotch said, a smile appearing on his face as he saw you. “Brisket?” He nodded towards the food in your hand.
Grinning you nodded, “Finally managed to grab some before DT grabbed everything. Got you some,” you tapped the tupperware next to you.
“Thank you, honey,” placing a soft kiss on your head, he sat down next to you. “Are you okay?”
You took a beat to say anything, just chewing your food and thinking. Maybe now was the right time to bring it up, everything that you were feeling. The insecurity and jealousy that’s been brewing inside of you. That for the first time since this started between you and Hotch, you felt that you were on unsteady ground. That you didn’t know where you fit into his life.
However, as you looked around, you realised that bringing this up during work was not something you could do.
And if Hotch said the worst things that your brain could conjure up, there’s no place to run or hide from him. You still had a good six hours until you clocked off. Plus, the embarrassment, there was no way you were getting embarrassed at work due to a man.
“Just tired,” you eventually landed on. Which wasn’t a lie, technically. But you still needed a few days to figure out what you were going to say to him.
Hotch looked at you, and as much as he didn’t want unprofessional feelings in the workplace, he couldn’t help it. You were mesmerising. Everything you did managed to leave him in awe. As if whatever you were doing was the first time he was seeing it.
“Do I have sauce on my face?” You asked, your free hand tapping your face softly.
Hotch shook his head, a small fond smile on his face, “You’re beautiful.”
You softened, your foot tapping his, “I know.”
Chuckling he couldn’t help but lean and kiss your forehead again.
-
You watched, arms crossed as Hotch delegated the tasks, eyes flicking towards you every now and then. You gave him an encouraging nod as he began to shift his attention to the local police department.
You waited for the orders, everyone pairing off. You perked up as you heard your name, and his, along with two others. Clenching your jaw as you saw her bound up to Hotch, too happy in this context, you turned your head to search for the other person in your little team.
“Price,” the man held out his hand which you gladly took. It was rare that the local pd respected any of you, let alone the women. Introducing yourself, you both began to exchange information.
Hotch and Canavan moved to where the two of you were, heads bent together as you discussed the different entrances that the warehouse had. “I’ve got your back, if you have mine,” Price looked to you, and for a moment you were lost in his blue eyes.
If you met him two years ago, maybe you would have taken him out for a drink after the case, maybe you would have exchanged numbers. However, it was now, and a gentle hand on your back brought you out of your reverie, you looked towards the culprit who barely acknowledged his tender touch.
“‘Course, Price,” you gave him a soft smile.
“Officer Price,” Hotch interrupted your conversation, “if you could show Agent Canavan the layout of the warehouse,” he nodded to the woman standing next to him, looking a bit distraught as he sent her off.
“He’s awfully happy to be partnered with you,” Hotch stated as he kept the man in his line of sight, his hand still on the small of your back, absentmindedly rubbing small circles.
“You partnered us, remember?” You quipped back. “Price and I can take the inside of the warehouse, if you and Canavan want to go around the perimeter,” you suggested, already forming a plan in your head. That would be the easiest and most logical.
“I’ll go with Price, stay with Maddy,” Hotch amended. “It would do her well to be with someone like you. I trust you to keep her safe.”
“Maddy,” you mocked quietly, but not quiet enough as Hotch heard you. At his questioning look, “Nicknames, already?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Gonna start calling her honey as well?” You accused, envy embedding itself in every nerve you had. You stepped out of his hold and you watched as his hand stayed in the air for a moment, and then dropping to his side, a small clench of his fist.
It was a standstill for a moment between the two of you, you too in your head that you didn’t notice the way that Hotch was studying you. The concentrated look that he only ever has when he’s trying to piece together a particularly frustrating puzzle.
“As much as I want to listen to this telenovela, we have a case,” Rossi interrupted as he looked between the two of you. “Lives are at stake, remember?”
You nodded, ashamed in your brief outburst. Rossi was right. This was an active case. People were dead and will die if you didn’t stop acting like a jealous, hormonal teenager.
Hotch watched you leave as Rossi studied him, a knowing look on his face. “What, Dave?” Hotch exhaled.
“Do you seriously not see it?”
“See what?”
Rossi made a noise and smiled tightly at him, “You know, for a brilliant profiler, you’re very stupid.” At Hotch’s glare, Rossi held up his hands. “All I’m saying is, how do you not realise why (Y/N) is mad at you.”
--
“Canavan, stay back!” You ordered, shoving your hand in front of her. “Fucking, don’t go charging in there, we know he’s armed and he has accomplices, that may or may not be in there with him. So stay the fuck back.”
“They have the victims in there!” She pointed to the room at the end of the hall.
“We wait for back-up,” you commanded. “We don’t know if they have the victims in there, and again we don’t know if he’s alone.”
“The victims are in there,” she all but growled, finding the strength to kick your leg and push you out of the way.
“Son of a fucking bitch,” you angrily followed her, gun held to your side. “Canavan,” you whispered angrily, trying to keep up with her. “Fuck, Canavan!” You saw her getting yanked inside, screaming as she went.
Without another thought, you ran towards her, from your memory, this was a big room. There were plenty of craters that you could hide behind, but it was far too dark to really see anything. If shots were fired and you didn’t know where it came from, you were screwed. But you had to try.
As best as you could, you hid yourself behind a crater, as vicious as the unsubs were, they were stupid. Ego the gods could envy, they didn’t bother hiding when they were trying to shoot.
Seeing your chance, you quickly straightened, once your eyes were on him, you shot two bullets into his chest. Running quickly, you took his gun and confirmed that he was dead. Suddenly you felt yourself being shoved into the wall, your head banging harshly against the concrete. Fumbling with your knife, you quickly pulled it out and lodged it in his ribs causing the unsub to groan and throw another punch at your face.
Twisting the knife as much as you could, the man screamed in agony as he swayed back away from you, allowing yourself to stand up. Grabbing the metal, you tried to swing down at the man when he came up, grabbing it and directing a punch underneath your rib, causing you to drop to the ground. Taking the pipe from your hand, you saw the man grin as he raised it up, poised to hit you until you heard two gunshots.
“Unsub down,” you could hear Derek tell the walkie talkie. “There were two,” you could vaguely hear Derek describe the scene, the ground in front of you suddenly the most appealing thing to look at.
You could hear voices in your earpiece, vaguely hearing your last name, then your name, each call getting more panicked when you didn’t answer.
“Shit, Hotch,” Derek ran over to you, “she’s down, unsub hit her.”
“Canavan,” you muttered, trying to point to where you saw her last. “Knocked out.”
Derek looked towards the girl, conscious and now slouched over by the corner of the room. Briefly glancing at her and seeing no visible injuries, he turned his attention back to you. “Alright, mama,” helping you up, Derek looked at your wounds.
You saw the rest of the team run in, Hotch at the helm. He partially looked at Canavan, then nodded to Emily and headed straight to you.
“What were you thinking?” Hotch started as he looked at you. The words coming out sharper than he intended as he saw the state of your injuries.
“Hotch, man, back off,” Derek stood between the two of you. “We all heard that it was Canavan that came charging in. If there was anyone at fault,” he looked towards the girl who was now in Emily’s arms, eyes trained on Hotch.
“Shit,” you wiped the blood from your nose and grimaced as you felt more blood gush down. The throbbing in your head escalated as the room became louder. You felt overstimulated as everyone gathered in the room, lights suddenly on and you felt like throwing up.
You slapped his hand away, “I’m fucking fine, Hotch,” you groaned as you stood up. “Derek,” you handed off the unsubs gun, and he took it with a nod. Holstering your own gun, you began walking to the medic.
“Where are you going?” Hotch walked with you, the team forgotten behind.
“Medic,” was all you said. Gritting your teeth as you felt the throbbing underneath your ribs.
“I thought you said you were fine,” Hotch commented, a worrying frown on his face as he took notice of you holding your ribs. He ignored the woman who called his name, his attention all on you.
“Yeah, well, I know it’s going to cause a shitstorm if I don’t get it checked out,” you clenched your jaw as pain shot through your body due to the uneven ground. “Fucking,” you cursed under your breath as you felt Hotch catch your body, causing you tense momentarily.
“Easy,” Hotch mumbled softly.
“I’m fine,” you tried your best to shove yourself off him, you could see the ambulances now, just a few feet away. “Fuck off,” you cursed at him.
“What is going on with you?” Hotch narrowed his eyes, refusing to abandon you.
You turned back to him, and you didn’t know if it was the frustration that’s been building up, your new injuries or the fact that everything was just too loud and too bright, you exploded. “Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend?” You spat the word out as if it offended you personally. As if it wasn’t what you’ve been wanting from him.
Hotch briefly took a step back as if you’ve just slapped him, your eyes instantly zeroing on the hurt that flashed across his face. “What are you talking about?”
Opening your mouth, you gritted your teeth as pain began to worsen in your head.
“Forget about it,” grumbling, you walked away from Hotch, slowly making your way to the ambulances.
--
“She has some injuries, but you’re fine, well as much as you can be,” the medic finished taping up your wound. “She shouldn’t be alone, just in case.”
“She’ll stay with me,” Hotch announced, eyes trained intently on you.
“Jesus Christ, give me a break,” you mumbled under your breath, earning a breathy laugh from the medic beside you, which quickly stopped as he saw the look that Hotch gave him.
“Thanks,” nodding to the medic, you slowly jumped off the edge and began walking to the team that was now outside.
“Morgan!” You called out, “Need someone to supervise me tonight.”
Grabbing your elbow lightly, Hotch pulled you towards him, “She’s fine, Morgan. I’m looking after her.”
Whatever smartass comment Derek wanted to say was stopped by the stern look on Hotch’s faces, and the grip he had on you. Moving you towards the car, he helped you up and placed your seatbelt. “I’m not a child,” you frowned, yanking the seatbelt from him and clicking it yourself. All you got was an exhausted huff.
“Are we going to talk about this now or are you going to wait until we get back to the room?” Hotch asked, as he got into the car, and when you didn’t respond, he let out a sigh and began driving.
--
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Hotch asked as the two of you walked into his hotel room. “I can get your stuff or you can wear mine, I know that you feel more comfortable in them sometimes.”
Ignoring his question, you rolled your eyes, tired from the night, from the case, from the situation that you found yourself in with Hotch and the trainee. You were a grown woman, and here you were feeling the same things and doing the same things you were doing when you were sixteen.
“Why are you here?”
“This is my room,” Hotch stated dumbly, and for the umpteenth time that night, you rolled your eyes.
Exhausted, you stared at him, and exhaled loudly. “I mean why are you here with me, when your precious Canavan is also injured and needing to be looked after.”
“I want to make sure you’re okay,” Hotch said softly, taking a step forward but stopping when he saw you taking one back. “I frankly don’t care about her right now.”
“That’s not a very Unit Chief thing to say,” you quipped, removing your jacket, wincing as you stretched your arm too much.
“Honey,” Hotch started, moving towards you, hands out ready to help.
“Don’t,” you snapped, finally removing your jacket. You moved towards his bathroom, intending to shower until you heard him shuffle behind you.
You exhaled loudly, turning to face him, exhaustion on your face, “What do you want, Hotch and if you say it’s because you want to make sure I’m fine, I’m going to castrate you in your sleep.”
Hotch couldn’t help but chuckle at your retort, even when you were injured and in pain, you still managed to be so you.
“You heard the medic, I just need some rest,” you waved him off and began to remove your trousers. “If that’s all,” you gestured to the bathroom door.
“That isn’t all.” You looked at him expectantly, “You’ve been ignoring me.”
Scoffing you paused your movements and ran your hand through your hair, “And? In case you haven’t noticed we’ve been on a case.”
“Don’t be naive,” Hotch chided. “We’ve been different,” at the solemn look on his face, a small part of you softened. “We have been for a while,” Hotch confessed softly. What he won’t tell you was he was racking his brain, trying to think of anything that he could have possibly done to make you drift away from him.
Did you finally realise that you were too good for him? That he was a damaged old man and you deserved someone who could keep up with you? That you deserve someone good?
“I wonder why that is,” you commented under your breath.
“What?”
You scoffed, exasperated by everything and especially at the man in front of you. “Hotch, why don’t you just do us both a favour and just go relieve Morgan from his duty of taking care of Canavan. We both know you want to be in her room anyway,” you moved to close the bathroom door, a growl practically escaping you when he moved to block it.
“Why would I go into her room?” By the narrowness of Hotch’s eyes and animosity in his voice, you knew that you had to tread carefully.
“I’m sure she needs the big boss to comfort her after the big night she had,” you mocked and you felt like a bitch. Again, you wouldn’t feel this way, you normally wouldn’t say things like this, if it wasn’t for everything. You knew she was probably scared, it was one of her first times on the field and she got attacked. You closed your eyes at the guilt you felt.
“What the fuck?” It wasn’t the first time you heard Hotch curse, you were one of the few he allowed to hear him like that, but the tone severity of his tone took you back. “Why would I go into her room?” He repeated again, this time enclosing in your space. “Why do you keep bringing her up when I don’t care about her outside of work?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you and her not eye fucking the entire case?” You laughed bitterly. “For weeks, ever since I came back, all I can see are the two of you practically humping each other whenever you were in the same vicinity. I had to watch you laugh with her, Hotch!”
“Is this why you’ve been such a pain the last few weeks?” Hotch frowned, but there was an underlying tone of teasing that you didn’t like.
“Fuck you,” you spat at him, you shoved him from your space and stomped back to the bedroom. “Guess since I’m not the youngest, I lost my shine, eh?” You mockingly winked at him, venom in your tone. “She’s new, young, probably your type. Like I was once upon a time,” you almost regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. You bravely stared at Hotch, ignoring the fluttering in your chest and the churn of your stomach.
Hotch hissed your name in warning. “Do not,” Hotch warned. “Look at me,” he directed you.
There was something in his tone and his demeanor that made you keep your eyes on him. He was breathing heavier, his face flushed in anger. At you? At the situation? You didn’t know.
“I’m in love with you,” Hotch said seriously, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day that I saw you, and I fall in love more every single day I talk to you.”
Standing there in shock at the confession, you didn’t know what to say. It was the first time that either of you put anything to what you were feeling. What this was between the two of you. Your shoulders sagged a bit, a small bit of the fight leaving you, but a big part of you who’s been on the edge of crashing out needed this fight.
“You never did anything to tell her that you were taken!”
“What did you want me to do? We’ve never talked about this!” Hotch raised his voice, eyebrows to his hairline. “I didn’t want to put words into your mouth in case you didn’t feel the same way.”
Never felt the same way? You thought bitterly. Is he an idiot?
“You never stopped her! You instigated things, Hotch. Don’t think I don’t have eyes,” you bit out. “Is it because I was away for a week? That suddenly you forgot me and she appeared.”
“Do not insult me with the thought that my feelings are that fickle,” Hotch snapped. “That all it takes to forget my love for you is some woman throwing herself at me,” walking towards you, Hotch kept his gaze on you. Every step, every word was deliberate. “I didn’t realise what you saw, what you perceived was me eye fucking her, or practically humping her, when those actions are only ever reserved for you.”
“I was being nice, I’m her boss,” he explained, more gently this time but still a firmness in his tone that isn’t usually directed to you. “This job is already hard, you’ve told me plenty of times that I need to be kinder, put myself in their shoes, to not be a hardass,” at that you couldn’t help but chuckle, Hotch mirrored it with his own smile. “I want to be kinder for you. You make me want to do that.”
“I’m sorry for not stopping it, I’m sorry for allowing her to think that there was ever a possibility of me being into her when all I think of is you,” he moved forward now, internally elated when he saw you stay put. “I’m sorry for making you believe that I don’t live for you.”
Hotch was frustrated to say the least, not at you but at himself. For not seeing what Canavan was trying to do. The hurt that you felt all because of him, because he was being an idiot. All he could do was hope that you gave him a fighting chance. That he wouldn’t lose you because of this stupid, careless misunderstanding.
You briefly looked at him, you knew that he wasn’t lying. If there was one thing that Hotch would never do to you, it was to lie. You watched as he went through the different emotions, eventually landing on something that he only wore around you.
Walking towards you, he took the risk of gently placing his hands on your neck, “I’m in love with you and I’m sorry. You are the only thing that makes me sane, the one that actually makes me want to come to work because I can see you,” he admitted. “Please don’t let me not know what it’s like to see you first thing in the morning, or what kind of furniture you want for our home.”
And you wanted that. You wanted that with him. You wanted everything with Hotch, the good, the bad and the ugly. You wanted to know what kind of pots he preferred, if he liked multiple blankets on the bed. You wanted the laughs, the fights and bickering. You didn’t want that with anyone else.
“You let her touch you,” was all you could say. Thoughts running a mile per minute. You cringed inwardly as your behaviour from the past couple of weeks bombarded your brain. Were you really that petulant? That juvenile? You could feel the tears of embarrassment line your lashes. “And you’re an idiot for not seeing that she wanted to jump you.”
“And for that I’m sorry. I promise that you’ll be the only one that gets to touch me.”
“Good,” you said defiantly, and you watched as the left side of his lips tilted up. Raising your hands, you placed them on his chest. “Because I swear, if that ever happens again, Aaron,” you threatened.
“I know, honey,” Aaron nodded solemnly. He knew that if anything like this happened, you would be gone. Whatever future he wanted with you would be gone.
“You know though right?” You said softly, hoping to convey what was caught in your throat. You followed Hotch as he sat down on the bed and pulled you to him.
“Know what?” He teased, wrapping his hands around your waist.
“You’re being annoying and I’m injured,” you whined, your arms slowly falling to his shoulders. “You’re annoying,” you spoke as you slowly sat down in his lap.
“Baby, say it,” he hovered his hands around your waist, being extra careful of your injured side.
“I’m kinda in love with you,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “and baby? Really?” You arched a brow.
“Kind of?” Aaron smiled up at you. “I wanted to try something new,” he shrugged. “Weird?”
“No,” you shook your head. “Just different. I love it.”
“Oh, so you love that, but you’re kind of in love with me,” Hotch teased, fingers drumming against your waist.
“It’s because you’re being annoying,” you supplied. “But ask me tomorrow morning and it may change.” Leaning down, you smiled at him, the tension and anger washing away as you looked down into his eyes. “Now kiss,” you pouted and bent down, slotting your lips slowly to his.
It was soft and slow, like you had all the time in the world, and for the moment, you did. You grinned as you felt his stubble graze your skin. Placing one hand on the small of your back and the other on your thigh, Aaron pushed you closer to him, opening his mouth to allow your tongue to slide in.
Tracing the inside of his mouth, you felt his tongue slowly try to dominate yours, allowing him, you let out a moan as you felt Aaron’s hand drift down to your ass. He squeezed once, eliciting another moan into his mouth as you pushed yourself closer, hips flushed together.
“You’re beautiful,” Aaron whispered against your lips, as he pulled away from you. “My beautiful girl.” And there was no lie in what he said. You are beautiful, on top of him, slightly panting and face flushed. “I love you.”
“I’m kinda in love with you, Aaron Hotchner,” you grinned before kissing him again. Pushing him down, you began to slowly grind against him, hands grasping his shirt.
“Honey, you’re injured,” Hotch smiled against your cheek, as he sat up. Kissing from your cheek to the path to your ear, Aaron gave your lobe a kiss before he whispered, “Once you’ve got the all clear from your doctor-,”
“Pound town?” You finished for him, arching one brow. You flinched a bit as a bellowed laugh came out of Aaron.
Smiling largely at you, you couldn’t help but be entranced by the dimples of his cheeks and the light in his eyes. “Yes, honey. Pound town.”
--
You woke up to someone shuffling around the room, grimacing as you felt the telltale of a headache. “You okay, honey?” You felt the bed dip next to you. Opening your eyes, you were met with the beautiful sight of one Aaron Hotchner, wet hair and a towel wrapped around his hips. Before you could even truly appreciate the scene, a stabbing pain erupted behind your eye.
“Headache,” you groaned and closed your eyes.
Aaron tutted and moved around the room, opening his bag and running the tap. “Here, honey.”
“Thanks, love you,” you automatically said Aaron handed over some meds and water.
You didn’t see the lovestruck look on Aaron’s face, “Kinda in love with me or love me love me?”
“You’re more annoying in the morning,” you chided, handing him over the empty glass. “But love you, love you.”
Leaning down, he kissed you lightly, “Once this headache is gone, prepare for some serious smoochin’,” you warned. “Now come back, we have two more hours before we meet the others.”
“You want breakfast?” He asked as he climbed into bed with you, towel forgotten on the floor. “Fruit might help you with your headache.”
“Do you think they have scones?” You wrapped yourself around him, enjoying the warmth his body brought. “You smell good,” you placed a kiss on his neck, hand slowly drifting down.
“Honey,” he warned. “You’re injured, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not going to do anything strenuous,” you rolled your eyes, “yet,” cuddling closer to him, you couldn’t help the noise of content you let out. “I have three weeks of touching you to make up for, Aaron Hotchner.”
--
“What’s gonna happen to Canavan?” You asked as you traced nonsensical patterns on his forearm. Breakfast in front of the two of you, and Hotch was right (not that you’d ever say it) about the fruit helping with your headache.
Hotch made a noise above you, shifting a bit to allow his back to be more comfortable. “Discipline from the board, I assume. Then they’ll have to look at her files, she may get kicked out of the academy if they deem her unsuitable. She’s out of the BAU, though,” Hotch commented. He didn’t wish any harm on people, but he came very close when he found out she was the reason you went into that room. The reason why you got injured.
“She’s a good kid,” you muttered.
“I thought you hated her,” Hotch asked, leaning your body so he could look at you.
“I hated how she made me feel but I don’t hate her. I’m pretty sure that I would have done the exact same thing when I was her age,” you shrugged. “But she’s a good agent. Maybe not for the BAU, but somewhere else.”
It was silent for a little while, too long for your liking so you turned your head and realised that Aaron had been staring at you. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“You’re something, you know that?” Hotch said quietly. “You’re wonderful and I love you.”
--
“Finally!” Spencer exclaimed as he saw the two of you walk into the jet. He grinned as he saw Hotch’s arm around you. “I knew it!”
“Reid, please try to keep it down,” Aaron cautioned, as his grip tightened on you.
“So it only takes for (Y/L/N) to get beat up for you to confess you’re in love with each other,” JJ teased as she gave you a hug and once over to make sure you’re okay.
“You guys couldn’t have become a couple like normal people?” Emily asked, as she raided her wallet and handed Rossi a fifty.
“I told you,” Rossi waved his money and winked at the two of you.
“Come on, honey,” Hotch guided you to your usual seat, hand drifting down too close to your ass.
“Honey!” Derek chortled as he and Emily shared a look.
“I’m sorry that you only have your hand to go home to, Derek,” you sniped, a grin on your face. Derek rolled his eyes as Hotch followed you with a knowing smile.
“I booked my appointment with Doctor Mohan,” you told Hotch, as you put your phone on top of the table. “She should give me the all clear today, if we land on time.”
“Not today,” Hotch chuckled lightly, his hand landing on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.
“You said, and I quote, ‘once you’ve got the all clear from your doctor’,” you stared Aaron down. “Don’t tell me you’re a liar.”
The rest of the team, minus Canavan, who was holed up in her own seat, watched as the two of you bickered.
“So, kid, how long do you think they’ll take before he pops the question,” Derek questioned, opening up his notepad.
“Six months,” Rossi instantly piped up.
“You say that as if you know something,” JJ looked at Rossi who all but shrugged.
“Maybe I have a bit of insider knowledge,” Rossi smirked, as he put himself down for a hundred.
love is blind ! or perhaps, silent ?
⤷ ゛ ✮ sukuna’s wife gets
some godawful advice . . .
you wanted to be the perfect partner for sukuna, naturally. which in turn meant doing exactly what the wives of the court insisted: learning the sacred art of not speaking to your husband for as long as you can to, “cultivate intimacy” . . ? or so you were told.
unfortunately, much to your displeasure, you had only lasted until the third hour. reason being—to put it quite plainly—ryomen sukuna is quite the relentless man . . .
he let out a sigh. a very loud, obnoxious sigh.
“i wish for my wife to talk to me.”
nothing.
“i wish for my wife to deign to speak to her husband.”
. . .
“i wish for my wife to cease such an absurd performance, and speak to me how she normally does. it is tiresome. the silence. do you not agree?”
your footwear scuffed softly against the cobblestone path as you came to an abrupt halt. the warmth that normally lingered in your gaze gave way to mild annoyance, though not enough to be mistaken for genuine displeasure.
try as you might, you could never remain upset with your beloved for long.
“i have heard you the first time sukuna, what is that you want?” you huff, the words drawn out in mild exasperation. tilting your head back to look up at him, your lips pressed into a faint pout, brows knitting together in a questioning glance.
sukuna only halts with you, standing a few feet ahead of you. “sukuna?” he repeats, perplexed, his gaze narrowing slightly at the unfamiliar distance between you.
usually, you referred to him by far gentler names. my beloved. simply, husband. my lord, when you wished to pester him. simply “sukuna” was a new low he had never imagined he would reach.
he scoffs, “to engage in conversation. i thought it to be rather obvious, was it not?”
you inhale sharply, as though it were painful to neglect your husband in such a way. perhaps it was. and yet, it was for the better.
“well, i cannot.”
“ . . . you, cannot?”
“i cannot.”
….
“have i done something to displease you? or wound your honor?”
you look at him with quiet seriousness, a sorry attempt to stand your ground.
“no. you are disturbing the ritual,” you say, voice a mild but firm whisper, as though the contents of your speech were not meant to fall upon the ears of another.
“the ritual…”
“yes, the ritual.”
“what ritual do you speak of?”
“the one i am attempting to complete it.”
you huff under your breath. “or rather, the one you are making rather difficult. i have already spoken too much, and you are not helping.”
you attempt to resume your way down the path, tucked between silk-draped garden pavilions, only for your unreasonably large husband to step in front of you. all four arms are crossed over his bare chest, a black haori draped over his broad shoulders.
when you finally glance at him, to your surprise, there is a deadly seriousness in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine.
“where are you going? i believe we are in the middle of a conversation, are we not?”
you only suck in a sharp breath, splaying a fan to cover the lower half of your face, your eyes darting toward a nearby patch of cherry blossoms, anywhere but his own. “i cannot speak with you.” you reply softly, a gentle warmth rising to your cheeks, soft as ripened plums, taking a small step back from him.
his gaze narrows slightly, studying your unusual timidness, along with your peculiar mannerisms. “you do see how you are poking at my nerves, yes?”
“well, that only means it is working. so if you would only let me complete it to its entirety—”
“working…?” he scoffs, only taking another step forward until there is nowhere left for you to retreat.
you take another step backward, then another, then another, until your shoulders brush against the wall behind you. only then do you finally stop. sukuna places a hand beside your head and stares down at you, all four eyes narrowed.
“wife.”
the single word causes you to blink. “you will explain this ritual to me. at once.”
you let out a groan as you raise the fan to cover your face entirely. “why is it that you cannot respect my privacy?” your voice slipping out in a low, uncertain whisper.
sukuna lets out a low chuckle at that.
well, you believe. you cannot see his face after all, but there is no trace of displeasure in it.
shortly after, you feel his warm heavy hand, one stained with years of work and war, gentle to the touch, lowering your wrist, and therefore the fan. his voice is low and soft, as if coaxing an answer out of you:
“you do not actually wish to be apart from me like this. do you?”
you only let out a soft groan as you give a small shake of your head; eyes soft and pliant, though a small frown lingers over your features.
“ah . . i see,” he hums, eyes scanning over your face before his lower hand comes up to cradle your chin. “and, who, has forced you to do such a thing? because it certainly has not been me.”
you sigh. “i have not been forced.” shrinking back behind your fan.
“i had wanted our marriage to be more intriguing, so i sought out the other wives for advisement.” you pause, watching him carefully. “they said i should not speak to you, so that things would be calmer . . and more . . intimate . . between us once we reunite. though i have heard little of the latter.”
you look up at him once more, lashes blinking uncertainly, as though searching his face for approval. except instead of any shocked or amused reaction, he simply stares at you for a long moment, then exhales slowly through his nose.
“please do not speak to those women again,”
“they are fools.” he says flatly. “you do realize we are as intimate as can be, correct? i have seen you cry. i have seen you without your robes. i have seen you at your most unguarded, and yet you still think there is more to achieve.”
you only smack him lightly with the spread of your bamboo fan. “you cannot just say that!”
“the reason this ‘ritual’ of theirs works is because they do not love their husbands,” he continues, unbothered. “that is why there is peace when they do not speak.”
. . .
“oh.”
and then, a small snicker escapes him, causing your head to whip toward him. an everso slight frown pulls at your lips before he promptly falls silent.
“you mock me.”
“i have said nothing.”
“you are smiling.”
a soft silence spreads between the two of you, lingering, to that of a breath being held for too long . . . before a low burst of laughter escapes his throat. a quiet, unrestrained cackle that makes your chest loosen despite yourself.
his hand comes up to rest over his mouth, while the other remains crossed over his chest, his shoulders shaking with each contained laugh.
“do not laugh!” you insist, though your voice wavers with lingering amusement. “i have done this for you!”
“must you look so aggrieved? i am only laughing with you.”
you huffed, loud and dramatic; “how can you laugh with me when i am not laughing at all?”
“very well”, he began, an infuriatingly smug smile working onto his face, “i’ll wait for you to start then.”
and then, as though a switch had been flipped; every trace of amusement vanished. the smile disappeared, his features settling back into the impassive countenance of a ruler, as if nothing at all had been amusing.
unbelievable.
but only after a moment does it slip from you too: soft at first, almost disbelieving, your laughter spilling out in quiet, uneven breaths before settling into something gentler. you cover your mouth with your fan, though it does little to hide it.
“i would prefer this be forgotten.”
“unfortunately, wife, i cannot grant you that mercy.”
and while you hated to admit it, the advice had been sound; simply at the expense of your last shred of dignity.
Pairing: Young!Aaron Hotchner x College!fem!reader
WC: 1.8k
Warnings: Fluff
Summary: After your professor publicly dismisses your class contribution, you vent to Hotch, who listen and gently tries to justify your feelings even though he thinks that you might be overreacting.
A/N: I learned a new word, and you can be damn sure that it's very obvious which one it is, cause I used it twice. Also look at me using some of the culture theories we learned in school, because this is inspired by something that happened in class a few months ago.
Also this was written before I went to Kenya, I feel bad for forgetting to post it (not really)
You slammed the apartment door with more force than was strictly necessary, the sharp sound reverberating through the small space you shared with Hotch, like a period at the end of a very poorly structured sentence.
Your backpack slipped from your shoulder and landed on the floor by the shoe rack with a heavy thud, scattering a few loose papers you had stuffed into your notebook when class had ended. You kicked off your boots, not caring that one landed crookedly against the wall, leaving a dirt spot that you would need to clean off later before it dried too much and would be impossible to get off again.
“I am never speaking in class again,” you declared loudly to the empty air, voice thick with frustration. “Not once! Ever again! I’m going to sit in the back row like a statue, take notes, and keep my mouth shut until the day I graduate. This is it. I’m done volunteering.”
From his spot at the small dining table that doubled as his makeshift home office, Hotch slowly lifted his head, pushing his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. Hotch was fresh out of the academy and already working with the BAU at the FBI, and it showed in the way he always had confidential files lying around the dinner table or his nightstand.
In some way, you were jealous of the fact that he never had to take another class again, but then again, he was still studying all the time, so his situations didn’t look much different from when you had met in his last year of university before he joined the academy. Only now, his textbooks had been switched out for old casefiles.
His white button-down was still on from the office, sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows, exposing his corded forearms. His tie hung loose around his neck, and several thick folders of old case files were spread out in front of him. A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside a yellow legal pad covered in his slanted handwriting.
He set his pen down and leaned back in the chair, studying you with that measured gaze he had adopted over the past couple of months, equal parts profiler and equal parts concerned boyfriend.
“Should I be concerned?” he asked, his deep voice steady and dry, carrying that signature dryness you’d come to love over the years. “Or is this one of those moments where you’re being dramatic, and I should just put on a fresh pot of coffee and wait for you to scream into your pillow?”
You shot him a withering look as you stalked into the tiny kitchen area, yanking open the cabinet for a glass. “It’s justified, Aaron. Very justified! This wasn’t just me being sensitive. My professor was being a jerk!”
He raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, the closest thing to a smirk you’d get from him on a normal day. “Alright. Come sit down and walk me through it.”
You filled your glass with water, took a long sip, and then launched into the story, pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the table as the frustration poured out of you.
“So Professor Langford was lecturing today on cultural competence in social work practice. He posed this question: ‘Can anyone share an example of currently working with or observing people from a culture different from their own?’ I raised my hand because I actually have real-world experience. I told him about Maria, she’s this incredible woman from El Salvador who works the same waitressing shifts as me at the diner. I explained how her approach to customer service is so different from the standard American style I grew up with. She’s warmer, more relational. She remembers regulars’ names and little personal details, asks about their kids, their jobs. She’ll lightly touch someone’s arm when laughing at a joke or offering comfort. It creates this genuine connection. People stay longer, tip better, and actually seem happier when she serves them. I thought it was a solid, practical example of cultural differences in communication and service styles.”
Your voice grew more animated… and more irritated, as you continued.
“The professor let a couple of other students share their experiences. Then he started going through each example, giving feedback and tying them back to the textbook readings. Everyone else got positive reinforcement like ‘excellent point,’ ‘great real-world application,’ even little personal anecdotes from his own fieldwork. But when he got to mine…” You let out a bitter laugh. “He singled it out. He said, ‘While that’s an interesting observation, it’s important to be careful not to conflate individual personality traits with broader cultural norms. What you’re describing might simply be Maria’s personal warmth rather than a clear cultural distinction.’ He basically implied that my example wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t understand the difference between culture and personality. The whole class was staring at me. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole in a pit of fire.”
You set the glass down harder than you meant to, the sound sharp in the quiet apartment. “I felt so stupid. Like I’d stuck my neck out for nothing.”
Hotch had listened without interrupting, his eyes fixed on you the entire time, absorbing every detail the way he was trained to do. When you finally fell silent, he remained quiet for a long moment, fingers tapping once against the table as his analytical mind worked.
Then he pushed his chair back slightly and held out his hand. “Come here.”
You hesitated, still vibrating with leftover embarrassment and annoyance, but eventually crossed the room. Hotch gently pulled you down onto his lap, wrapping one arm securely around your waist while his other hand came to rest on your thigh. The solid warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne helped ease some of the tension in your shoulders.
“I’m sorry that happened,” he said. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. “Being corrected in front of your peers stings.”
You nodded, leaning into his chest, grateful for the comfort.
“But,” he continued carefully, his tone shifting into that rational register you hated, because he was usually right, and you did not need him to be right, right now, “I want you to consider something. Do you think it’s possible the professor wasn’t trying to single you out maliciously, but rather push the class toward more precise academic distinctions?”
You pulled back enough to look at him, eyes narrowing. “You think I was wrong?”
Hotch shook his head immediately, knowing that however he phrased his next words could either land him on the couch for the night or make you agree with his point. “No. I’m not saying your example was invalid. From what you described, Maria’s style does reflect common cultural tendencies in Latin American service interactions. They are legitimate observations.”
He paused. “However… professors in these fields can be pedantic. He might have been trying to highlight the importance of not essentializing culture. In academia, especially social work and psychology, they hammer that distinction hard. It’s possible he saw your example as leaning too heavily on one person’s behavior without additional evidence or sources to back up the cultural link. That doesn’t mean your contribution was worthless. It just means he wanted the discussion to go deeper.”
You stared at him, a fresh wave of frustration bubbling up. “So you do think I was being dramatic.”
Hotch exhaled softly. “A little,” he admitted honestly, though his voice remained kind. “You’re passionate, and you feel things deeply. It’s one of the things I love about you. But sometimes that passion makes the sting of criticism feel bigger than it actually is.”
He cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His gaze softened, the profiler mask slipping away to reveal the young man who was still very much in love with you despite having seen a few too many brutal crime scene photos already.
“Look, I’ve been there. More times than I can count. Last month, I presented a preliminary profile on a case, and Agent Rossi ripped it apart in front of the entire team. He called my conclusions ‘naive’ and ‘underdeveloped.’ I wanted to disappear. Spent the whole drive home convinced I wasn’t cut out for this work. But the next day I went back, revised it using his feedback, and it ended up helping break a key lead.”
Hotch tilted his head, meeting your eyes. “Your voice matters in that classroom. One professor’s nitpicking doesn’t diminish the value of your real-life experiences. You’re balancing full-time college with night shifts at a diner to get you through with as little debt as possible. That’s more practical insight than most of your classmates have. Don’t let one bad moment make you shrink back into silence. The field needs people like you, people who actually see the humans behind the theories.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, fiddling with the loosened knot of his tie. His logical breakdown had punctured some of your righteous anger, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet.
“I just hate feeling like I put myself out there and immediately got told it wasn’t good enough,” you whispered.
“I know,” Hotch murmured, pressing a lingering kiss against your temple. “And I’m sorry it felt that way. Your feelings are valid. But I also don’t want you carrying this frustration around all night, letting it convince you to hide in class. You’re too good and too smart for that.”
He shifted you more comfortably on his lap, wrapping both arms around you now in a full embrace. “How about this? Next time, you frame your examples with a quick tie-in to the assigned reading. Something like, ‘This aligns with Hofstede’s collectivism dimension…’ That way, even the most pedantic professor has less room to dismiss it.”
You let out a watery laugh against his neck, not sure how he knew who Hofstede was, because you were damn sure that they didn’t teach his theories in law school, maybe not even in the academy. “Are you seriously giving me debate strategy right now, Agent Hotchner?”
“Always,” he replied. “I’m on your side. Even when I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
You swatted his chest lightly, but there was no real heat behind it. The tension had mostly drained away, replaced by a warm and tired fondness.
“Thank you for listening,” you mumbled. “Even if your profiler brain immediately went into ‘let me rationalize the situation’ mode.”
Hotch chuckled softly. “It’s an occupational hazard. But I promise I’m always in your corner.”
He held you there for a while longer, as the apartment filled with a comfortable silence broken only by the distant hum of beeping cars and people moving about their lives outside.
Eventually, he kissed the top of your head and murmured, “Now! Are we ordering takeout, or should I attempt to cook something while you tell me more about Maria’s legendary customer service techniques?”
You smiled despite yourself. “Takeout. And maybe… I’ll think about speaking up again. Eventually.”
Tags: Fluff and Smut, Sleepy Sex, Handjobs, Slight FemDom, Older Man x Younger Woman
Summary: Aaron's tired and needs something to take his mind off of a rough case, you help him... relax.
OR
Reader basically fucks Aaron to sleep
—————————————————————————-
“Aaron, did you hear me?”
Aaron’s head pops up, suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. He looks at you, apologetic. “Sorry, what?”
You shake your head affectionately, smiling slightly. “I said, how was work?”
Aaron sighs tiredly, even the thought of work making him more exhausted. “Rough, didn’t end well.”
You wince, nine times out of ten the answer wasn’t typically pleasant. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best question to ask…” You walk over and sit next to him on the couch, your hand coming up to play with his hair, “You tired, honey?”
He nods silently and leans into your touch, his eyes slipping shut. You smile softly, “You want to go to bed?”
Surprisingly, he shakes his head. “No.” You’re tempted to ask why, and you almost do before he speaks again. “Could we…” He trails off, seeming hesitant about whatever it is he was about to suggest. You bring your hand down to his neck, gently massaging the tense muscles, “Could we what?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and you don’t press him, it’s easier when he asks on his own. Finally he sighs, “I just… I need to get my mind off of it.”
Oh. So that’s what it was. You nod, “Ok…” It wasn’t anything new for the two of you to… relax after a rough case, but he’s usually too tired to do it the night of. “You’re exhausted, you don’t want to rest first?”
“No, I’m alright,”he says. Whatever happened during this case must’ve been pretty bad. You smile softly, “Ok.” You get up from the couch and walk over to the door, setting the alarm before heading up the stairs.
The two of you make it into the bedroom and you shut the door behind you before dimming the lights. Aaron, who is basically dead on his feet, waits for further instruction. You turn your attention to him, smoothing your hands down his shoulders before beginning to undress him. You don’t rush, careful not to break the calm atmosphere as you remove his various articles of clothing. Once he’s naked, you pick up everything and kiss him gently on the cheek. “Go shower.”
“Ok,” He nods. He disappears into the en suite and starts the shower, barely waiting for it to heat up before stepping into the spray. The water feels like heaven on his skin, the warmth spreading through him and soothing his aching muscles. The water pressure in the hotel the unit stayed in sucked, so it was great to be back in his own facilities.
In the bedroom, you dispose of his clothes to be put in the wash and put his shoes away. You showered before he arrived, so you undress and dispose of your clothes before sitting on the bed.
You don’t have to wait long before he comes out, hair damp and looking a bit more awake. He sits next to you on the bed, sighing tiredly as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. You smile softly, bringing your hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You ok?”
Aaron nods wordlessly. You take your fingers and tilt his chin up before kissing him softly. You let him lead for a bit, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. The kiss is slow and lazy, matching the energy of the atmosphere.
You pull away, smiling softly at him and running your fingers through his hair. “Relax, Aaron.”
You move to sit behind him, bringing your hands up to his shoulders, immediately feeling the stress and tension stored there. He groans softly at the feeling of your fingers working through the tight muscles, his body relaxing gradually as you work. You massage his back and arms gently, pressing kisses to his skin periodically. He’s not real great at taking care of himself, so you know you probably won’t be able to work all the knots out on your own. Note to self, get this man an appointment with a masseuse or a chiropractor or something, jeez.
Once you feel your work is done, you gently turn his head toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, keeping it pretty safe to allow him to decide what’ll come next. Surprisingly, he takes initiative,pressing his lips to you with an energy that was not present a few minutes ago. Guess the massage had some effect.
This time the kiss quickly turns heated and he lies back on the bed, pulling you down with him. You lazily rock your hips against him, your soaked slit dragging up and down his already hard length, rubbing against your clit at just the right angle. He moans into your mouth, his hand coming up to the back of your head. You reach back, finding his cock and wrapping your hand around it, slowly pumping your hand up and down the length you can manage to reach. You multitask kissing and stroking him, teasing the head of his length with your thumb. He’s tired, let’s make this quick. He pulls away suddenly, almost smacking the back of his head on the headboard. “Please…” he moans breathlessly, “I– I need…”
You shush him softly, your hand coming up to cup his jaw, “What do you need Aaron?”
He brings his hand down to your hip, gripping it gently, “...I need to feel you, need t’ be inside you…”
You sit up, your hand still on his dick and you adjust to straddle him. You guide the tip to line up with your entrance before slowly sinking down. Aaron lets out a guttural groan, feeling the perfect tightness of your warm fold around his length. You whine at the stretch, you’re used to his size but you still need a minute to get yourself together. You slowly start to move, riding him lazily. His hips buck up into you, his fingers gripping your hips so hard there’ll definitely be marks afterward. The two of you move in sync, the room filled with the combined sounds of your ecstasy.
You can tell by the look on his face that this won’t take much longer, and you’re quickly proven right. “Honey–” he barely manages to say through a groan “‘m not gonna last.”
You shake your head, barely able to catch your breath, “‘s ok, me neither.” The two of you continue to rock against each other until you feel him tense beneath you, his thrusts increasing in speed and force as he spills into you. Your climax hits you not long after, your vision whiting out as your walls squeeze around him.
Coming down from your high, you collapse onto his chest, your chests heaving in sync. After what could have been anywhere from a minute to an hour, you’re not sure, you manage to snap out of your sex-induced haze and climb off, laying on your back next to him. “Guess we gotta shower again, huh?” No response. You frown, propping yourself up on your elbow, “Aaron?”
He’s out cold. You smile, you knew he was tired but he’s never fallen asleep that fast after. I must’ve really worn him out, points for me. Shaking your head, you reach over him and turn out the light before settling your head on his chest. He stirs slightly, “mmm, love you…”
You smile, “I love you too, Aaron. Get some rest.”
Prompt: June 12th - Tainted Love - Soft Cell / “I cannot stand the way you tease”
Character: Jonathan Pine
I know it’s short but please let me know your thoughts and reblog. Also, would love to discuss any ideas these little snippets inspire!
Love you! 💞
"Lord Pine. Mister Cross has delivered your post." You inform your master as he sits in his study.
He doesn't look up as he drags a pen across paper. "Put it there. I'll tend to it in due time."
"Yes, my lord." You set it in the tray he keeps for his letters. "Your tea must be cold. Would require a fresh cup?"
"If you've the time and kindness," he accepts as he continues his scrawl.
"Yes, my lord. Always time for tea. And you." You take the saucer and cup. "Would you like anything else? Meril has baked oat biscuits."
"Tea will do." He says firmly.
You leave him and go down to request a fresh pot. When you have a steaming cup, you return to the lord. He sits up in his chair as he rests his chin on his knuckles. You place the tea around his side of the desk. He stares.
"My lord..." You back up nervously. "Have I forgotten something?"
His lip twitches and he hums. "Not at all. I am only... Perturbed."
"Perturbed?" You wonder.
"Chagrined. Unsettled." He elaborates. "It is only I cannot stand the way you tease."
"My lord? Tease?"
"When you say you've time for me always..." He runs his pink up to his lip. "What else do you have for me?"
Sukuna's now been sitting at the head of the dining room table for exactly 7 minutes and 23 seconds— he'd know because he's counting the seconds in his head— while you chew him out. His two sets of arms are crossed, face is straight, and food left untouched on the table.
"Are you even listening to me?" you finally snapped after you noticed how his eyes drifted to mindlessly stare at the chicken breast on the table.
"Yes, I'm listening," he muttered back and forced his eyes to retrain on you.
This entire argument began because you were a few minutes late to the dinner table. It's your time of the month and you decided to treat yourself to a nice bath and try to decompress. Additionally, the warm scented water helped soothe your cramps, so you may have taken longer than expected. How could you have known you'd spend a hour in the bath on accident!
Bottom line: you swiftly leaped out of the bath and just threw on a cozy lounge outfit that was satin and flowy before making your way to dinner. You should've known Sukuna would be pissy about it though since he's gotten in his head that the dinner table is a divine time which should never be interrupted or delayed.
So, once you got to dinner and the servants opened the doors, you knew you were in for it when his crimson eyes cut towards you. You just quickly made your way to your seat and focused on the delicious meal the cook had prepared.
"You're late," he said: as if if was some announcement and you didn't already know.
"I know, I know. I was just taking a nice bath and it helped lessen my cramps so I lost track of time—"
"That's no excuse," his words cutting off your explanation as you sent him a side eye before turning your face to look at him fully. "Your menstrual cycle isn't a justification for missing a predetermined time. Do you even know how many minutes I've been—"
This time it was your turn to interrupt him as your snippy reply rang out: "Woah woah woah. I said it's some excuse. I was just explaining it and you could be a bit more sympathetic for me."
Sukuna scoffed and leaned back into his chair whilst dropping the fork he'd picked up. "You're unpleasant like this. Won't listen to reason nor do you admit when—"
"I'm 'unpleasant?' Let's see how unpleasant you are if I crawl inside of you and rip at your—" yeah so that's how the argument started now 8 minutes ago. The servants just awkwardly stood along side the sliding doors and stared ahead while pretending like the Lord of this house wasn't being chewed up and spit out by his, usually sweet, wife.
Him claiming he's been listening to your rant as if he hadn't zoned out severed to anger you more: "Oh you're listening are you? Are you? Because if you did we wouldn't keep having this conversation!"
He sighed: "Woman—" your head ticked to the side slightly while your eyes glared daggers made him instantly reword his statement, "Dear, you are correct. I should be more lenient during your menstruation process. I will make note of this."
"Not 'lenient—' I need you groveling at my feet during this time since it's the least you can do. Matter of fact, this whole argument is too much. I want to move dinner to the bathing chambers."
"For godsake," he's pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes clench, "we're going to eat dinner and converse like we're supposed to do."
"Yes. We shall eat dinner and converse while I lay in my bath and you sit beside it," you reasoned with a shrug as you finally see your husband peel himself away from hiding his expressions in his hand.
He's staring at you in disbelief for a good minute while taking into consideration the argument is now up to 10 minutes going on 11. He knows damn well if it drags on much longer, the room temperature food will grow cold.
"... Begin preparing a bath," he muttered as a servant practically sprinted out of the doors and to the bathing chamber. Another servant hesitantly approached the table to begin picking up the plates to transfer them like you suggested. Although cautious at first since Sukuna seemed like he was desperately holding himself back from lashing out, the servant quickly grabbed the plates upon seeing your welcoming smile and your outstretched hand as you handed your plate to him.
That's how the both of you got to this position: you laying comfortably in the warm vanilla and sandalwood scented bath while he's sitting on the tiles beside it. You have one of those wooden boards constructed to arch between either side of the bath and provide a platform to which you set your plate on. Sukuna just balanced his plate of food on his lap as he listens to you happily speak about any random interests and your day.
"You know, I think we should do this more often," you joyfully announced while picking through your vegetables to specifically eat the roasted potatoes first.
"We have the dining room table for a reason," your husband murmurs while his fork skewers a piece of chicken that fell off the bone. While you seemed delighted to stretch out in the bath, he on the other hand was cramped. He just had to hunch his 7 foot frame over his plate so he could eat.
"Yeah, but I've gotten bored of that. Tomorrow, we can switch to eating in our bed. Oh! Then the next day maybe the garden."
Sukuna just forced himself not to grumble about the idea of crumbs in his bed or bugs zipping by his ears.
"I'll look into it if that's what you want," he muttered.
In the end, you knew you'd eventually eat dinner wherever you said.
Baby Yuki who has papa Sukuna's judgemental vibes.
Papa!Sukuna x Mama!Reader
No CW
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It happens at a relative's wedding.
Yuki was dressed in the cutest cream colored dress ever with her wispy hair tied into two tiny ponytails.
Everyone agrees she looks like a tiny perfect angel.
The angel in question is currently sitting on your lap. Except she looked painfully unimpressed by the whole event.
There's normal wedding stuff. Loud music, kids running around, people laughing.
And Yuki is just 👁👁.
An auntie arrives first.
"Who's the cutest baby ever? Is it you? Is it you?" She makes funny faces and exaggerated noices.
Meanwhile Yuki just strares.
Judging.
Her expression says, "Ma'am, please compose yourself."
The auntie slowly sits straight. "She's just like her dad." She says.
Then one of her older distant cousins attempts peek-a-boo.
The napkin is lifted.
The cousin hides.
Reveals himself.
The act is repeated a few times.
This time Yuki's face is saying, "The trick did NOT improve with all those repeatations.
"WHY DOES SHE LOOK OFFENDED AT 8 MONTHS OLD?!"
Buuuut she's an angel for random people. Your cousin's wife's grandma's sister?
She gets the most cutest baby grin and coos from Yuki.
Later the wedding is over, Sukuna is standing there holding Yuki, talking to relatives. Then someone says something dumb.
Sukuna frowns slightly.
Eyebrows pull together just the slightest.
Lips forming a faint grimace.
YUKI DOES THE SAME THING. JUST THE DILUTED BABY VERSION.
Everyone is laughing, phones are taken out, pictures are taken.
Yuki rests her tiny head on papa's shoulder while looking at them like, "PEASANTS."
Then her eyes land on you. "😄😊😄" for mama of course.
Your daughter has the exact judgmental expression like your husband.
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Guys my exam started today. Im very tired so i switched my writing style to make it quicker. Hope yall like it. Also I'll start oc x characters after my bitchass exams are over. Wish me luck.
⭐︎ warnings: nsfw, smut, jealousy, porn, masturbation, fleshlight, sex toys mentioned, p in v sex, innocence kink, sex recording, even more coercion, blowjobs, dirty talk, threats of baby trapping, degrading, praising, size difference kink, breeding kink, humiliation kink, rough and possessive sex, exhibitionism, bucky is a little mean here, and he still has a cringy username
⭐︎ word count: 7.7k
⭐︎ a/n: nearly a year later, here we go again. this is part two of my p*rnstar bucky. read part one in order to understand this part. thank you for all the love and support you've shown me in the first part. i didn't plan to write a pt2, but with pt1 hitting 10k along with 7k followers, i had to do it for ya'll. i hope you enjoy!
synopsis:
One video isn’t nearly enough for Bucky. He wants more of you—wants to make you his star, his girl. But it isn’t just him who’s hooked. His viewers can’t stop talking about the voice in the video he’s been jerking off to. Now everyone’s desperate to know who the mystery woman is… the only thing is, it's been ten months since you two last spoke.
← previous fic | main masterlist
Ten months.
It had been ten long, grueling months since Bucky last got a taste of you.
After taking your virginity, he paid for your groceries—as promised, because he believed himself to be a gentleman—and messaged you a few days later, inviting you to film another video with him.
You were his loyal fan.
You were there for every single one of his videos.
Hell, your own username was dedicated to him.
So when you left him on read for ten months without leaving a single trace behind, he grew furious. He tried making excuses for you—perhaps you were too busy? Or maybe you went on vacation? He tried circling back to your social media, which was how he had first found you, but you had privated all your accounts and deactivated your TikTok.
Naturally, pessimistic thoughts began to fill his mind.
Was he too rough when he took you? Did he freak you out by finding you at the grocery store? Worse, had he scared you away for good?
Bucky knew where you lived. It would’ve been easy to just show up at your front door and demand answers—but he couldn’t do that. Not with the threat of a restraining order looming in the back of his mind.
Ten months. He couldn’t believe he had let you stray away from him for that long.
There was so much you could’ve done during that time. You could’ve moved, had sex with other men, or even found a relationship.
You went from being his loyal fan to a ghost.
Bucky knelt on his mattress, holding up a clear silicone toy that looked tiny compared to his hands. He squeezed a generous amount of lube into his palm and spread it carefully along his half-hard cock, making sure none of it dripped onto the sheets.
His camcorder was propped against a pillow, angled perfectly to capture him from the waist down. With his bare abs and thighs fully in frame, he settled back on his heels, gripped the toy firmly, and guided it toward his cock.
A rough groan escaped him as he teased the sensitive tip against the entrance. The lubricant made every movement slick and audible, the wet sounds filling the otherwise quiet room.
“Fuck. Been waiting for this all day.”
His eyes fluttered shut as he slowly worked the toy against his shaft. He continued at an unhurried pace, his grip tightening as he lost himself in the sensation.
“Good girl,” he muttered without thinking.
The words slipped out on instinct, a praise that always led back to you. As the room filled with the sounds of his grunts and movements, his thoughts drifted to the memory of you. They always did. He pictured your soft lips wrapped around his dick, the way he had your face pressed into the pillow as he took you from behind—the moments that had replayed endlessly in his mind over the past months.
At some point, imagination alone had stopped being enough.
Whenever he wanted to relive it, he would pull up the private video he recorded of the two of you, letting it play in the background while he lost himself in the pleasure of his toy.
“God,” he groaned, your name slipping from his lips in a breathless rasp.
He made a mental note to cut the part where he whispered your name like a prayer before uploading the video to the site.
“Shit—fuck. I miss that tight little pussy.”
With a loud groan and both hands holding the toy tight, he drove his hips deep into the toy until it made an unmistakable tearing sound. Too lost in the haze of his own desire, he didn’t even realize he tore through yet another toy to the memory of you.
Seed filled the silicone, marking every cloudy surface with his thick cum.
Once he caught his breath, he let the toy fall from his grip and pushed it aside.
From there, the rest of the evening followed the same familiar routine.
He would take a shower, get dressed, make himself something for dinner, then spend the rest of the evening at his computer. He would spend his time editing the footage, preparing it for upload to the same porn site he had been posting on for years.
Except this time, there was no excitement after hitting the ‘post’ button, because you wouldn’t even be there to watch them.
After the video went live, he waited for the likes and comments to start pouring in, holding onto the faint hope that your username might appear among them.
As usual, it never did.
Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t what disappointed him this time.
Every time he jerked off with the intention to post a new video—your video was always in the background. It got to the point where people started to leave comments asking who the mysterious girl was. Who those sultry, seductive moans belonged to.
He would even get comments asking if he’d be willing to record another video of the two of you together and post it online.
Every time he read those comments, he would scoff, laughing to himself.
I would like to know the same thing.
After posting his latest video, his comment section had been flooding with the same demands for weeks.
wankingandspanking: hell yeah man! love the new video. but who’s the babe in the video you’re watching??
StraightJorkinIt: U breaking ur toy was so hot, but what’s even hotter is the girl moaning in the back. xx
Bwasexual: The toys are getting a little old, don’t you think?? Bring a real woman in. especially the one in the vid you’re jerking to ;)
Each comment was a direct insult to Bucky’s pride.
He was one of the platform’s top creators—yet now, his community was entirely consumed by you.
He had spent the last ten months trying to get you out of his head, trying to just use your video as a quick jerk off aid and move on. But how could he when his own fans wouldn’t let him forget?
How could he, when he couldn’t even cum to anything else anymore? His memory was flooded of the way his cock had disappeared in and out of your tight pussy while he had you bent over from behind. By the recollection of your cute, virgin mouth stuffed full of cock—his cock—for the first time ever.
How could he possibly forget how sweet your tight little body was, like it was made for him?
Bucky’s frustration was peaking. At the very least, he was making money off of this.
Just as he was about to shut down his computer and call it a night, a new notification popped up.
He clicked it, and what he saw made the air in his lungs vanish completely.
Pleasure_Ring: Love the video!
Bucky blinked.
Was he seeing this right?
He rubbed his eyes, but lo and behold, your comment was still there. He double—and triple—checked the username, ensuring every single letter matched and that it wasn’t some random copycat trying to impersonate you.
But no, it was you.
When he clicked your profile, the interface loaded your old message thread. He saw the green indicator showing you were currently online, sitting right above his last unanswered message asking you to film with him again.
He couldn’t believe it.
You were real. You were still here, ten months later, watching him.
Bucky didn’t realize he was holding his breath as his fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to spam you with messages—to demand where the hell you’ve been, to beg for your phone number so he would never lose track of you again.
No, he couldn’t risk ruining this moment. He had to stay rational and seize this chance before you slipped through his fingers again.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: I saw the comment you left.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Where have you been?
A minute passed. Then another. He propped both elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hands, his foot tapping impatiently as he waited.
Three minutes went by. Your little icon was still green—you were still online.
Then, his heart leaped.
Pleasure_Ring is typing…
Pleasure_Ring: Why? Did you miss me?
Bucky’s brow twitched. Your messages from ten months ago had been sweet, alluring, and almost innocent. If you had been texting him consistently, he might’ve read this as a flirtatious little comment to make his dick hard.
But right now, he just felt pissed off.
Lord_Of_The_Rings_1917: Quit playing around. Of course I missed you. Where did you go?
There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t risk scaring you away just yet. His heart raced as he watched the screen.
Pleasure_Ring is typing…
Your bubble kept appearing and disappearing. You would type, then silence. You would type again, then nothing.
Bucky felt like he was going insane. He was just about ready to send another message himself, until one finally popped up under your name.
Pleasure_Ring: I think it’s best that we talk in person.
Pleasure_Ring: Can we exchange numbers?
And of course, Bucky gave you his number without a second thought.
You sat alone at the coffee shop Bucky had agreed to meet you at, fiddling with your mug and glancing anxiously out the window.
The meetup was set for noon, and the closer the clock ticked to the hour, the more your mind began to spiral.
It had been ten months since he last saw you. Ten months since he had you bent over your own bed, your face pressed into the pillows, ravaging you like an animal.
You were growing anxious. What if he had lost interest? What if he took one good look at you and realized you were nothing like the woman he had been infatuated with all this time?
The bell above the door chimed. You glanced up, and your breath caught in your throat.
Bucky was right there. He looked just as handsome as the day you met him. His presence seemed to take up the entire space of the coffee shop, just as it had when he first approached you at the grocery store.
His eyes swept across the room. The moment they landed on yours, your thighs instinctively clenched together. He was wearing that same cold, stern expression he had when he first told you to strip for him.
Naturally, it did things to you.
He marched over to your table, dragged the chair back, and dropped into the seat directly across from you. He didn’t bother with a polite smile, and his gaze didn’t warm up at all.
Was he angry? Was this a nuisance to him—taking time out of his busy day just to see a girl he slept with ten months ago?
“Bucky,” you breathed, forcing a polite smile. “How are you—”
“Where have you been?”
You blinked. You were about to stammer out a quick excuse, but he breezed on past.
“Ten months without a single word from you.” He leaned closer across the table. “Where have you been?”
Despite his harsh tone, he was anxiously bracing himself for your answer. He expected you to say you had lost interest, or that you found a boyfriend to practice your new... sexual experiences on. You hadn’t even given an explanation yet, and he was already fuming with jealousy.
You looked down at your coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. Looking him directly in the eye right now was simply too much to handle.
“I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch,” you mumbled. “Ever since… that night, I’ve been… uh—how do I even say this?” You chuckled awkwardly, scratching lightly at your cheek. “I guess I’ve been feeling a little ashamed of myself.”
Bucky watched your shoulders slump as your hands fidgeted nervously in your lap.
“Ashamed?”
“Ever since we slept together, I’ve felt insecure about not being able to... keep up with you.” You winced. “I mean, you’re obviously experienced—I had a great time, and everything—but it made me realize that, at my age, when everyone else seems to be out there having fun and figuring things out, I’m nowhere near as experienced as they are.”
Your voice dropped lower as you glanced around the room.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation suited for a small, intimate coffee shop.
Bucky frowned, crossing his arms. Your explanation wasn’t giving him the reassurance he had hoped for.
“So you were embarrassed about sleeping with me?”
Your eyes widened.
“No! It’s not like that.” You shook your head. “I had an incredible time with you. You gave me an experience I’ll never forget. I mean...” You leaned forward, lowering your voice to a conspicuous whisper. “You were the one who took my virginity, after all.”
That, at least, managed to draw the hint of a smile from him.
“It’s just...” you hesitated. “I’m ready to start dating, and in the current dating scene, sex matters, you know?”
There it was.
The sentence Bucky had been dreading.
While he had spent the last ten months thinking about you—worrying about you, searching for some way to reconnect, replaying the video you’d filmed together and jerking off to it, moaning your name—you had spent those same months looking forward to a future with someone else.
“So...” You hesitated. “After reading all those comments on your videos, the ones talking about how good I sound, and remembering the offer you made ten months ago to film another one...” Your gaze dropped briefly. “If that offer still stands, maybe you could teach me?”
“Teach you?” Bucky repeated, the words leaving him almost like a scoff.
Just as innocent as the day he first met you, you nodded shyly.
“Teach me how to be better at sex.”
An awkward silence took the space between the two of you.
You were preparing yourself for rejection. For Bucky to push back his chair, walk away, and decide this conversation had been a mistake. After this, you wouldn’t be surprised if he even blocked your number and your profile, cutting off the last connection between you.
Instead, he studied you for a very long moment.
“You know,” he said slowly, his gaze finding yours, “the comments have been asking us to film a video together, right?”
The look he gave you was difficult to read—careful, calculating, and almost suspicious.
“I know,” you said bashfully.
“If you want me to teach you,” he said, leaning forward as his voice dropped soft and intimate, “then we’re going to do the same thing we did before, but I want this done at my house instead. I’ll record.”
He paused, studying your reaction.
“And this time, I’m posting it online.”
You sat there frozen.
It wasn’t exactly the compromise you expected, but you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised. After disappearing from his life for months, after leaving things unresolved between you, part of you knew he would want something in return.
Bucky leaned in closer, his hand finding yours on the table. His fingers curled around yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“You’ve read the comments,” he said. “You might be insecure about your experience, but my viewers love you. They’re curious. They want to know who the woman behind that voice is.”
Heat rushed to your face. The confidence in his words only made your pulse quicken, and the slow sweep of his thumb across your knuckles wasn’t helping at all.
“I’ll teach you everything you want to know,” he continued. “I’ll take care of you. You know I will.”
For a moment, his confidence faltered and his eyes looked pleading, revealing something almost hopeful beneath it.
“What do you say, doll?”
Your heart had been pounding ever since Bucky sat down across from you at the coffee shop. It hadn’t slowed once—not during the conversation, not during the drive over, and certainly not now as you stood behind him while he unlocked his apartment door.
Bucky stepped aside, holding the door open for you. After a moment's hesitation, you stepped inside.
The studio apartment was dimly lit. The blinds were drawn, leaving only the warm glow of a lamp to light the room. In one corner sat a computer setup—his workstation where he recorded and edited his videos.
Your breath caught at what was displaying on the monitor.
Your chat history.
His studio was the definition of a man cave. What caught your attention, however, were the sex toys scattered throughout the apartment without a hint of shame.
Some of the toys were immediately recognizable from his videos. Having been a longtime viewer, you had seen them often enough to identify them at a glance.
Bucky tossed his keys onto a nearby surface and motioned for you to follow him toward the bed. As you approached, your gaze landed on something unfamiliar at his bedside table.
“What’s this?” You pointed to a toy shaped like the lower half of a woman’s body. Unlike the others, you didn’t remember ever seeing this one in any of his videos.
Bucky glanced at it. “Oh, that?” He came to stand beside you. “Custom made. I use it off-camera.” His tone was casual, almost dismissive. “Had it modeled after you.”
You were suddenly grateful for the low lighting, because that meant he couldn’t see the stunned expression that immediately crossed your face.
Modeled after you?
Your eyes drifted back to the toy, taking in the details—the shape of the hips, the skin tone, it was an unmistakable similarity. What shook you up, though, was the tear in the toy around her upper abdomen, a sign that Bucky’s cock tore right through the silicone.
The sounds of his belt buckle being undone drew your attention back to him.
“Had it set to the maximum tightness,” he explained gruffly, setting the belt down on his chair and reaching for the familiar camcorder he used before. “Still not nearly as tight as you felt—but it made do during those ten months you were gone.”
A moment later, he lifted the camera and pointed it in your direction, the red light flickering to let you know it was on.
“Go ahead,” he prompted, watching you. “Undress.”
You bit your lip as you stood in front of him, feeling far more self-conscious than you expected.
For some reason, the atmosphere felt infinitely more tense than it had the first time you undressed for him.
Bucky seemed to notice your hesitation immediately. He lowered the camera slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don't know about this, Bucky.” You fiddled with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze. Instead, you focused on your bare feet against the floor. “What if I'm not good at this?”
A slow, patient sigh escaped him.
Without a word, he set the camera on the bedside table. It remained angled in a way that still captured your body, but his attention had shifted entirely to you. His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted it up, letting his fingers tickle your lower belly.
“Are you feeling shy, doll?” he murmured softly.
The question was quiet enough so that the camera wouldn’t pick it up. It wasn’t meant for an audience. It was just for you.
“Look at me,” he commanded gently. “You’ve got a perfect, tight body. There are a lot of people that would kill to be in my position, and you’re scared to show it off?”
He lifted your shirt up until it exposed the lace of your bra. His large hand cupped over your breast, giving it a squeeze that made you gasp softly.
Bucky grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
While his left hand fondled your tits, his other hand crept up to your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to look at him. His eyes wandered down to your lips—exposed, plump, and vulnerable.
“When you get a boyfriend—you’ll have to learn how to kiss,” Bucky murmured. “Do you know how?”
The question felt almost condescending. He should already know the answer. You were still inexperienced, still clueless, but despite it all, you couldn’t help the ache that began to form between your legs from the way he talked to you.
Your voice came out soft and trembling, but to Bucky, it sounded like music to his ears.
“… Teach me?”
A low growl vibrated from his lips as he closed the distance in one, smooth motion. His lips collided with yours—hungry and consuming—letting his tongue delve past your lips and into the wet warmth of your mouth.
He held your face tight, forcing you to take every inch of his tongue and every surface of his lips. It was hot, messy, and wet. During every second of his ravishing, his hands continued to explore your body, groping you through your bottoms. He held you so close, you could already feel him throbbing against your leg.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling away slightly to catch his breath. “Still taste so good. So sweet, just for me.”
He stepped away, breathing just as hard as his dick felt.
With the warm lamp glowing next to him, it outlined the sheer size of his dick throbbing in his pants. You watched it pulse, a little wet spot forming near the tip, before his large hand came down with deep, circular rubs to soothe the ache.
“Bucky…” You gasped softly.
His other hand snatched the camera off the bedside table, nearly knocking down the picture frames. With a shaky hand, he lifted the camera up to you again.
“Strip.” He commanded, rougher this time. “Strip. Now.”
Your heart raced. His patience was fraying, and without upsetting him further, you began to undress. You abandoned your top, your pants, all until you were left standing in nothing but your panties and bra.
Bucky groaned at the sight, his palm working faster over his clothed erection.
“God, look at that,” he zoomed in on the wet spot collecting at the front of your panties. “You’re fucking soaking for me, doll. And all I did was kiss you.”
Shame flooded your face. As you unhooked your bra and worked for your panties next, Bucky’s voice pulled you to a stop.
“No,” his hand shot out, catching your wrist. “Keep those on. I want to see the mess you’ll make after having my dick in your mouth.”
With his grip tightening around your wrist, he ushered you to the ground until your knees made contact with the floor. He tugged his pants down with force, and his cock sprang out heavy—slapping you in the cheek and making you wince.
He was big and hard. Seeing him up close like this, with his hand around his shaft and his tip rubbing against your cheek, you weren’t sure how you took him the first time.
“Do you remember the first time you sucked my cock? When you tried fitting it all in on your first try?” he rasped a chuckle, slapping his cock against your face and smearing his pre-cum over your wet lips. “Your mouth was so small—you could hardly fit anything past the tip.”
You flicked your tongue out, giving his cock a shy kitten lick just to tease him.
“Oh, fuck,” he shuddered. “You slut. You want it in your mouth again? Wanna try again for me?”
He pointed the camera closer to your face, his other hand tangling in the back of your hair, nodding you closer to his shaft.
“Come on. Open up. Show me what you remember.”
You licked the pre-cum that was beading at the tip. It tasted just like it did the first time—salty and thick. Bucky groaned, his hand tightening in your hair, pushing you forward for more.
You opened your mouth, letting your lips wrap around the swollen head. His cock was warm and hot, already twitching in your mouth and he wasn’t even halfway. Encouraged by the camera and his breathy grunts, you sunk your head deeper.
Bucky felt like he could cum right there. Your mouth was still so tight and inexperienced. He was half tempted to pin you against the side of the bed and face fuck you until his balls were dry—but he forced himself to hold back.
“God. Is this—fuck—the best you can do, really?”
He brought his camera down, the lens pointing right where his tip disappeared in and out of your plump lips, making sure to pick up every wet squelch that left your mouth.
“You can do better than that,” he hissed, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. “I know it hurts, baby. Just remember what I said the first time. Stretch those lips, relax your jaw, breathe in and out of your nose.”
You fluttered your lashes as you looked up at him. Your eyes were sheen with tears that threatened to spill out from the ache of your mouth being stretched open. He rocked his hips forward, making you gag and choke.
“Oh, christ,” he grunted, his cock twitching as your throat tightened around him. “You guys listening to that? She’s gagging for me.”
He was talking to his potential viewers. Your eyes widened with embarrassment as an instinctive moan left your lips and vibrated around his cock.
“Mph!”
“Fuck, she’s sloppy—drooling all over my floor, but her mouth is so tight. Could cum just from this,” he started drawing his hips back and forth, forcing himself deeper.
He angled the camera closer to your face, capturing your pleading eyes and stretched mouth.
“Does it taste good, sweetheart?” he asked, despite knowing your inability to answer. “Come on, show that pretty face off for the camera.”
With your mouth stuffed full of his cock, all you could do was nod in desperation.
“Damn, what a good girl. The fans are going to love this,” he let out a shaky laugh.
His hand kept your head still, and without warning, he pushed his hips even deeper into your mouth. He pushed until your jaw ached from the stretch and your nose made contact with the dark, musky curls sitting on his pelvis.
Bucky tossed his head back, letting out a deep, pleasurable moan.
“Ohh, shit.”
You gagged and choked, your hands finding his bare thighs as you attempted to push your head away for a quick breath. His cock was sitting heavy on your tongue, and drool began to shamelessly drip down your chin and onto your thighs.
Despite your mouth being overworked, you were getting wetter by the second.
“Shh… shh. I know, baby. Just stay right there.” Bucky cooed, his blue eyes hazy with lust. “Just let it sit in your mouth. Breathe in and out through your nose. That’s it.”
You did as instructed, keeping your mouth stuffed full of cock like a good girl. But every time you breathed in, all you could smell was him. His musky, masculine scent only made your head spin with desire even more.
Another deep groan tore from his chest before he gripped your hair tight, pulling you away from his cock with a wet pop. Saliva mixed with his pre-cum drew from your lips like a silver string as you coughed for air.
“Fuuck,” he groaned, fucking his hand for a few pumps as he watched you struggle.
Bucky’s cock was angry, pulsing and throbbing with a mind of its own. His cock was sheen with your saliva, and he was dripping out so much pre-cum, he looked just about ready to cum right then and there.
“Goddamnit. Ten months later, and your mouth is still good enough to make me almost fucking cum,” he hissed angrily. He bent down, catching your stray tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. You wanted me to teach you, didn’t you?”
He spoke so gently in a way that might’ve fooled his viewers, but every word that left his lips felt hauntingly patronizing.
You nodded with a sniffle. “Y—yes…”
Bucky smiled, his eyes softening as he took in your utterly debauched state.
He knew he was being a little mean, but he couldn’t help it. It’s what you deserved after ghosting him for ten months.
“That’s a good girl. My girl.” He nodded to his bed, standing up. “Go.”
Swallowing hard, you pushed yourself up—your mind dizzying and your legs feeling like jello from standing up too fast. You crossed over his crisp, white sheets—the mattress dipping under each crawl.
You didn’t know what position he wanted you in, so you played it safe and laid flat on your back.
Bucky’s expression was completely unreadable. His eyes were dark, his breathing labored, but his cock was still stiff, angry, and unsatisfied.
He adjusted the camera, zooming in on the cute bow on your panties.
“Spread your legs. Show everyone how wet you are after getting a taste of my cock.”
Biting your lip and turning your head from shame, you slowly spread your legs. With your thighs wide and your damp panties on full display, Bucky’s gaze somehow felt even heavier and more tense.
He growled, a deep rumbling sound of satisfaction. He stepped closer, meeting you at the bed. Every dip and creak from his moving weight made your heart race. His camera lens was focused solely on your panties, highlighting the growing wet patch on your crotch.
“Mm,” he hummed, his fingers dragging up and down your underwear, letting the fabric cling against your slick folds just underneath. “So wet. Could smell you from here, baby.”
You felt your body growing weaker by the second.
You wanted to beg him to fuck you—to take you just as he had the first time. But with the camera pointed steady in his hands, you knew he was trying to drag this out for as long as possible.
“Bucky,” you panted, eyes pleading. “I can’t take it anymore. I need your cock—”
“Aw, you’re begging?” Bucky huffed a laugh. “Ten months without a single word, and now you’re in my bed, demanding for my cock. That’s real cute, doll.”
Bucky brought the camera up to your face, and instinctively, you shied away from it. Despite your agreement to film, the lens pointing directly at you made you burn with an embarrassment you didn’t feel the first time.
Maybe because, in the back of your mind, you knew he’d be posting this one online—meaning you’ll be watched by thousands of people.
Sensing your hesitation, he lowered the camera with a slight frown, brows furrowing.
“Do you want to stop, doll?”
Stop?
Your heart clenched, eyes widening as you faced him.
“Stop?” you repeated softly, making sure you heard him right.
The softness in his eyes made your body feel warm. Bucky lowered his camera completely and angled it in a way that wouldn’t capture you in this vulnerable state. He was serious. He would stop for you if you changed your mind, despite your initial agreement to this as the compromise.
“If you don’t want me to upload this, I won’t.” He reassured. “I’ll keep this video for myself—just like the first one.”
His hand found your hip, his thumb tracing soft and gentle circles with a tenderness that only encouraged you to give yourself to him completely.
“I promise,” he added.
“No. I… I want to do this,” you searched his eyes, trying to soothe your nerves. “I can do it, Bucky. Please teach me.”
It was hard to ignore the way his cock hung heavy between his legs—twitching at your admission. The corners of his lips tugged up in a satisfied, smug smile.
“That’s my good girl.”
While one hand repositioned the camera back to you again, the other found the waistband of your panties, giving it a gentle tug downwards. With the fabric slipping slipping down your thighs and past your ankles, you hissed at the cool air greeting your wet cunt.
“Christ. You soaked the fabric right through, doll.” He held the garment up, the lamp highlighting every glistening wet spot as he made sure to capture your essence on camera.
He leaned over you with a grunt, setting your panties down on the side table. Your eyes followed his movement, and you sucked in a breath at seeing the toy he modeled right after you—resting there with a loose hole and an obvious tear in the abdomen.
It was haunting, almost like a warning for what you’re about to take.
Bucky nestled himself in the space between your legs, letting his length rest heavy on your stomach. His tip tickled your belly button, grinning proudly at the size comparison of his cock to your body.
“Did you fuck anyone else after me?” he rasped as he rocked his hips back and forth, grounding his cock against your belly.
You shook your head, face blistering from the sensation.
“No, Bucky. There was no one else…”
A satisfied groan tore from his lips. He grabbed himself at the base, guiding the tip toward your entrance.
“Is that so?” he mumbled. “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”
With a slow forward push of his hips, his tip fought against the tightness of your entrance. He sucked in a breath as he slipped in deeper, and your walls immediately clenched around the intrusion. You were so tight—Bucky had to grit his teeth to keep his composure.
Whimpering, you held onto his shoulders for support as he stretched you from just the tip. “Fu—fuck..”
“Fuck, baby. Still so goddamn tight. Just breathe in and out,” he gasped, his voice thickening in a way that made it sound like he was trying to calm himself down. “In and out while I sink into you deeper. That’s it. Good girl…”
Your back arched off the bed as he filled you. Your legs were stiff around him, your lips whimpering and mewling with every inch he was forcing your tight body to take. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he stretched your pussy out with just half his cock.
“Have you been keeping up with my videos?” He asked.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You were too stuffed—too concentrated on trying to get your body to accommodate the sheer size of him.
“I—I haven’t—” you answered truthfully.
He clicked his tongue in disapproval, pointing the camcorder to where the top half of his cock disappeared in and out of your tight cunt.
“The videos would’ve scared you,” he pushed his cock a little deeper, making you cry out. “Kept breaking my toys. All my damn fleshlights are torn right through. Had to keep ordering new ones, but fuck, they didn’t feel nearly as good as your tight, virgin pussy did.”
The broken sex doll that laid on his bedside table was certainly a testament to that.
Bucky’s hand found balance near the side of your head, his muscles and veins popping from holding his weight while the other hand was too occupied filming every inch of his cock delving deeper in your pussy.
“How does it feel, baby? Still as big as you remembered?”
“Still big, Bucky,” you winced when he angled his pelvis, his cock twitching in time with every clench your pussy gave him. “I’m trying to take it all—to big the good girl that you remembered—”
He tossed his head back with a groan. He tried his best to control himself—he really did. But the longer he stayed inside your warmth, the more his mind started to fray.
“Fuck—so cute. Such a good girl,” he groaned, sheathing himself completely inside until his dark curls were greeted with your wet folds. “Oh my god.”
Bucky stilled inside you, basking in your warmth. Your body felt like a wet, tight hug wrapping around his cock. This was the sensation he sought after the day you left. The very feeling he’d been looking for in the useless sex toys he was constantly ordering.
Now that you were finally here—pinned beneath him and his camera—he was afraid that if he moved, he would cum right there on the spot.
“Bucky?” your voice was soft, breaking into a gentle moan. “Are you okay?”
His eyes fluttered down to look at you, and his breath caught.
Your hair was fanned out so beautifully against his white sheets. Your body was laid bare and perfect for him. You asked the question in such a soft and innocent tone—it did nothing to dull the ache in his balls and did everything to make his heart heavier.
He should be asking you the question, with you lying there stretched out with more than you can take, but alas.
“You’re asking if I’m okay?” he huffed a raspy laugh, shifting his hips to deliver a deep and hard thrust inside you. “No, I’m not okay. I want to fuck you right through the mattress. Want to split you open and make you cry on my cock. But I can’t—I have to control myself and teach you how to take me again.”
The red light of the camcorder flickered in the dark room as he began rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you—capturing every moment of him claiming you a second time.
The bed started to creak, accompanied with his grunts and your soft moans of pleasure.
Bucky’s breathing was heavy, every deep, punishing roll of his hips making your eyes roll back.
The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix so sweetly, you felt your body giving out. He was right—your pussy was acting like a vice, wrapping impossibly tight around his thick shaft, refusing to let him go.
The camera shook in his hand as he aimed it directly at your hips. He had failed to capture the moment he pumped you full of his cum last time, and he was going to make damn sure he got it right tonight.
“Not a single drop going to waste,” he panted, his hips rutting uncontrollably against yours. “Gonna pump you full—God. Should fill up your womb so you’ll never leave me again.”
Your heart started to race as his words danced in your mind. Surely, this was just make-believe dirty talk. A performance he put on for the camera to secure a good payout from his loyal subscribers, right?
But as his body moved even more erratically, the bed groaning under every hard, bruising thrust, you began to fear otherwise.
“Fuck—this little slut thought she could use my cock to practice for other men,” he laughed, the sound deep and condescending. “Said she wanted to learn how to take dick for her future boyfriend. What a fucking joke.”
Your face burned with humiliation. You couldn’t believe Bucky was airing out your private confessions to his viewers like this.
“Oh my god! Bucky, please don’t say that—”
But your protests were useless. Your pussy was already spasming, clenching around him in a tight, weeping mess at every degrading taunt that left his lips.
“Ah, fuck. My sweet girl is milking me so hard—she doesn’t want to let go.” He chuckled, watching the wet friction of your hips through the camera screen. “You want to cum for me?”
You nodded, letting out a pathetic whimper.
Bucky leaned over you, shoving the camera close to your face. “Come on, baby. You’re on camera. I need you to speak up so everyone else can hear you.”
Pleasure was coursing through your body in ways that a simple vibrator could never match. Ten months without Bucky—and without touching anyone else—had left you chasing a high you couldn’t replicate. It was never like this.
You nodded frantically, losing all control over your own autonomy as tears of pleasure blurred your vision.
“Yes, Bucky! Please—please, please, I want to cum!”
Your cries were loud enough to peak the camera’s built-in microphone. Your walls clamped down around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as your back arched off the mattress with a loud moan, letting the climax rip straight through your core and down to very tip of your toes.
Bucky groaned, his entire body going stiff as your pussy milked him ruthlessly. Fuck. He missed this. He missed the tightness of your cunt. He couldn’t find this sensation anywhere else.
“Christ. Look at that,” he growled into the camera, his hand shaking as he kept the lens focused on where you squeezed around him. “She’s squeezing me so tight—it nearly hurts. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too.”
His balls slapped against your pussy with every hard thrust. He was chasing his release—his face twisted into a mask of pleasure as he felt his balls tighten and his cock twitch. You were already past your high, but Bucky forced you to ride it out for him.
“Shit, the idea of her having sex with someone else...” he snarled to the camera, his voice breaking as he slammed deep into your pulsing heat. “...of someone else’s cock buried deep in what’s supposed to be mine. I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as he used your body ruthlessly, just like one of his sex toys.
“Fuck, fuck—shit—fuck!”
A litany of curses spilled from his lips as his cock buried all the way to the hilt.
He shuddered violently, pinning your hips flat against the mattress as his orgasm tore through him, flooding every surface of your womb with thick, warm seed. He held himself deep, marking you from the inside out, leaving his cum to fill you completely until it was dripping onto the sheets.
Bucky brought the camera down with a shaky hand, capturing the way your puffy slit was pulsing around his cock, and the way his cum trickled out of you.
“There we go,” he breathed, satisfied. “Captured every second of it, baby.”
Ensuring that you kept your end of the bargain, Bucky uploaded the video to his profile.
Before hitting post, he texted you multiple times to make absolutely sure you were comfortable with your face and username being shown.
When you finally agreed, you never expected the video to blow up overnight. You knew Bucky was a popular content creator, but perhaps the sight of a woman’s body—your body—in the thumbnail stood out against his usual solo content.
Today, you sat at your desk, pulling up his profile out of habit, just like the ritual you used to have ten months ago. Your mouse hovered over the video, and you hesitated before clicking.
Two million views.
A wave of nerves hit you—the thought of being perceived by two million strangers while completely bare and vulnerable was overwhelming. Yet, for some reason, the idea of it excited you more than a girl like you should admit.
You finally clicked the link. The video started with you stripping for him, then dropping to your knees, and just minutes later, you were sprawled out bare on the mattress while he pumped you full of his cum.
You were already soaking through your underwear just watching it, your thighs rubbing together shamelessly from the memory of being filled by Bucky. The way his breathy moans sounded so much more enthusiastic than they ever did in his solo videos filled you with absolute pride.
You made him feel that good.
And apparently, you made his entire comment section feel good, too.
Daddywants2play: hooooooooolyy fuck. she’s so hot. my balls are so heavy just from watching her tits bounce. u lucky dog
Bwasexual: Omg!!! Do you guys need a third?
pegm3please: God so fucking hot. Is she going to upload anytime soon?? Just gave her a follow.
Your brow rose at the last comment.
Gave her a follow?
Instinctively, your mouse hovered to the top right of the screen where the notification bell was displayed.
It showed over 99+ alerts. You were used to seeing two at the absolute maximum—a like from Bucky on one of your comments, and his reply.
Bracing yourself, you clicked it, and a wall of notifications flooded the screen with dozens of different usernames following you. Your follower count had gone from exactly one—Bucky’s account—to well over a thousand in just a single night.
You couldn’t believe it.
People loved watching you.
They loved you enough that, despite you having zero videos posted, no profile picture, and an entirely blank description, they were hitting follow anyway—eagerly expecting to see more. You mentally patted yourself on the back for having the foresight to remove the links to your personal social media accounts beforehand.
A warm flush traced your face. The crazy part was, it wasn’t from embarrassment at all.
It was pure excitement.
Without thinking, you snatched your phone off the desk and dialed a familiar number. It only rang twice before a deep, sleepy voice answered on the other end.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky rasped. “Everything okay?”
“I just saw the video,” you said, the words tumbling out fast. You couldn’t contain your excitement. “I woke up to a little over a thousand followers—and there are so many comments!”
He paused on the line. You could hear the rustle of sheets as he sat up.
“… And are you okay with that? Do you want me to take it down?”
You bit your lip. You couldn’t believe what you were going to say next. “I’m more than okay with it. But… um…”
Bucky’s brow furrowed. He pulled the phone away from his face for a split second to make sure you were still on the line.
“Sweetheart, what is it?”
A breathy sigh left your lips. “I… I want to become a content creator, too. Will you teach me?”
And just like that, the air left Bucky’s lungs completely.
Everything he could possibly want—and more—was finally being served to him on a silver platter.
This meant more videos, more collaborations, and endless opportunities to have you completely to himself.
“Yes,” he swiped at his camcorder and car keys. “I’m coming over. Be ready for me.”
hopping off the bed turn my swag on. happy almost one year anniversary to pornstar bucky and the first bwa collab. once again, thank you to my dear friend @unificsation for the premise. thank you to @barnesonly for the cyber sex bucky edit she made inspired by this fic that i goon to nightly. thank you to @blowingbarnes and @buckybunni for being pornstar bucky's number one fan (i never forgot) thank you to @houseofhyde for giving me the inspiration to write this after sum silly joke. and thank you for all the love and support for part one. i would like to dedicate this oscar to you guys /j
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usually, before bed, sukuna slides his hand down your panties, placing his large hand over your mound and keeping it there. why? whenever you build up the courage to ask, he simply just shoots you a sharp glance, saying "it’s warm. stop asking questions, woman."
imagine his surprise when he mindlessly slides his hand down, only to feel you were completely bald down there this time.
you’ve never seen sukuna so genuinely confused. his usually bored, irritated expression had faded, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"brat, where is it."
you look over at him, shrugging. "where’s what?"
he feels around a little more, double checking, nope — not a single hair. “don’t play dumb with me, woman. the hair. where is it."
you were just as confused as he was. did he really love your bush that much?
“i shaved it?…" you respond, watching a slight frown form on his face, similar to a grumpy cat — honestly, anyone else would look at him and assume his entire family had been killed or something.
in your defense, you just felt like changing it up, assuming he wouldn’t care much at all. if you knew it’d affect him this much, you wouldn’t have plucked even a singular hair away.
"why the hell would you do that," he growls, his initial confusion quickly turning into irritation. “put it back, i don’t find this amusing."
you can’t help but let out a soft giggle, feeling sukuna pull his hand out from beneath your panties, two arms crossing in silent annoyance like a kid who’d just had their candy stolen.
"kuna’, it’ll grow back… i didn’t realise you liked it so much," you smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. his expression remains the same, though he doesn’t push you away, silently accepting your affection.
"don’t let this happen again," he demands.
"awwh! you miss it," you tease, poking his chest playfully. he catches your wrist in his hand, grip demanding, yet not firm enough to hurt.
Summary: You thought meeting your idol by chance was the craziest thing that could ever happen… until he became your boyfriend and casually handed you an NDA to protect all of his ridiculous little secrets. From chaotic ticket wars to jealousy over his own members, dating Jeon Jungkook turns out to be a lot less glamorous—and a lot more adorable than you ever imagined. Sometimes, the biggest BTS secret isn't backstage… it's how hopelessly in love he is.
Status: Three-shot | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x ARMY!Reader
Word Count: 6.2k~ | Full: 14.1k~
Genre: Idol!AU, Fluff
Rated: T
Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Slice of Life
Posting Date: June 11, 2026
SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
You still remembered exactly how it all began, and Jungkook never seemed to get tired of bringing it up.
You had never imagined that your very first solo vacation would end up changing your life.
It all started a year ago, when work felt unbearably exhausting. The deadlines never seemed to end, and every day felt like the same endless cycle of waking up, working, going home, sleeping, and doing it all over again.
Your friends kept telling you to take a vacation.
"You need a break."
"You're way too stressed."
"You have to get away."
At first, you refused. Traveling alone sounded terrifying, especially to a country you had never visited before. But one night, after working overtime until almost midnight, you suddenly opened an airline booking website.
And without thinking too much about it... you bought a ticket.
Not to a country crowded with tourists. Not to a place that was currently trending online.
Instead, you chose a small, peaceful country known for its mountains, lakes, quiet old towns, and little streets where you could wander for hours on foot.
You just wanted to rest. You didn't want to meet anyone. You didn't want to think about work. You didn't want to check your office emails.
The first day went exactly as planned. You visited a local market, tried food you couldn't even pronounce, bought a few souvenirs, sat in a park with a cup of coffee, and felt... peaceful.
The second day was much the same. You wandered around without a destination, took pictures of old buildings, stepped into a tiny bookstore, and eventually stopped at a café when it suddenly started raining.
The café was almost empty. There were only a few customers inside. You ordered a coffee and sat by the window until someone took the table next to yours.
At first, you didn't pay much attention. The person was wearing a gray hoodie, a black cap, and a mask. Nothing unusual about that.
Until he took off the mask.
You nearly choked on your coffee.
No way.
You blinked. Then blinked again.
Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon.
Jungkook.
Your brain immediately stopped functioning. What were the chances that Jeon Jungkook would be in a tiny country that barely ever made it onto anyone's travel list?
You stared down at your table. Maybe you had seen something wrong.
You looked up again.
Still Jungkook.
You stood up immediately, grabbed your bag, and left. Actually left. Leaving behind a cup of coffee you hadn't even finished.
Jungkook, who had watched the entire thing happen, could only blink in confusion.
"...Huh?"
The next day, you decided to visit the famous lake in town. You felt much calmer, until someone walked past you with a small dog happily running beside him.
You noticed the white sneakers.
Black pants.
A hoodie.
Then that face again.
Jeon Jungkook.
You turned around and walked in the opposite direction.
Jungkook stopped in his tracks.
"...Isn't that the person from yesterday?"
On the third day, you stepped into a small bakery and were trying to choose a pastry when you heard someone quietly ask in English,
"Which one is good?"
You turned around and almost dropped your tray.
Jungkook.
Again.
You carefully put the tray back, thanked the employee, and walked out as quickly as possible.
Jungkook stared at the closing door. "...What did I do wrong?"
That night, Jungkook had a video call with the members.
"I met a really strange ARMY."
"Oh?" Namjoon asked.
"She ran away."
"Ran away?"
"Yeah."
"When she saw you?"
"Yeah."
"That's impossible."
"That's exactly what I said."
Seokjin burst out laughing.
"Maybe you're scary."
"I'm not scary."
"Maybe she doesn't like you."
"That's even less believable."
Jungkook was genuinely confused. After years of being an idol, his biggest challenge had usually been avoiding people who wanted to get too close.
You were the complete opposite.
Every single time you met him… You ran away.
On the fourth day, you decided to take a small train to a mountain village. Surely this time you would be safe. There was no way you'd run into Jungkook again.
The universe couldn't possibly be that cruel. You got off the train, admired the scenery, and turned around… And found someone standing right behind you, holding a camera.
Jeon Jungkook.
This time, you didn't even have the chance to run.
"Excuse me."
You froze.
"Can I ask you something?"
"..."
"Why do you always run away?"
"..."
"Do I look scary?"
You quickly shook your head.
"Do you hate BTS?"
You looked up immediately.
"Are you joking?"
"Then why do you always run?"
You bit your lip because honestly... How were you supposed to explain that you had chosen this quiet little country to find some peace, only to run into Jeon Jungkook almost every single day?
"You're on vacation."
"Hm?"
"You came here to rest."
Jungkook stayed quiet.
"I came here to rest too."
"..."
"I don't want to bother you."
For a few seconds, neither of you said anything.
Then Jungkook laughed. Not a mocking laugh. A small, genuine laugh.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"You're the first person who's ever run away because they didn't want to bother me."
You looked down, embarrassed. "I just thought..."
"What?"
"I figured you chose this country because you didn't want to be recognized."
Jungkook looked at the mountains behind you and smiled softly.
"...Yeah."
For the first time since you had met, the two of you stood there without anyone running away.
"I'm Jungkook."
You looked at him immediately.
"...I know."
Jungkook laughed again.
"Right."
Then he held out his hand.
"But can we introduce ourselves properly anyway?"
You hesitated for a few seconds before shaking his hand.
Neither of you knew it then...
That the vacation meant only for healing, in a country you had both chosen because you wanted to disappear from the world for a little while, would become the beginning of a story Jungkook would bring up over and over again.
Because according to him, out of millions of people in the world… He fell in love with the one person who ran into him four days in a row… And chose to run away every single time she saw him.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The next morning, you woke up with a decision that seemed perfectly reasonable.
Today, you were not going to run into Jeon Jungkook.
It sounded simple. Very simple. Considering that the small country you were visiting wasn't particularly crowded, it also wasn't so tiny that two people would keep crossing paths every single day.
Yesterday had been enough.
Running into the same person by accident for four days straight already sounded like a coincidence that was far too strange. And on top of that, that person happened to be Jeon Jungkook.
The universe should have limits.
You got ready earlier than usual, deliberately choosing a different route from the previous days. Even your Airbnb host had recommended a small coffee shop located a bit farther from the city center.
"It's peaceful."
You were immediately interested.
Peace and quiet were the whole point of this vacation.
No work.
No emails.
No surprise meetings.
And hopefully, no Jeon Jungkook.
The morning air was pleasantly chilly. The streets of the old town were still quiet. A few shops had just opened, and the smell of fresh bread filled the air.
You smiled to yourself. This was exactly what you'd been looking for.
A slow morning.
When you arrived at the café, it really was cozy. The building was small, with large windows overlooking the cobblestone street and a few wooden tables inside.
You ordered coffee and warm bread before choosing a seat by the window.
Today felt peaceful.
Until the café door opened. You didn't even pay attention to who had walked in. Until you heard a very familiar voice.
"...Oh."
You slowly looked up.
"..."
"..."
Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook looked just as surprised.
He was still wearing a gray hoodie and a black cap, though this time his mask was off. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds while your brain worked at lightning speed.
Run.
Run now.
There's still time.
You had already grabbed your bag.
But before you could stand up, Jungkook raised both hands.
"I haven't even done anything."
You froze.
"..."
"..."
"I literally just walked in."
You stared at the table.
Jungkook started laughing quietly. "Are you going to run away again?"
You let out a small sigh. "...I'm considering it."
"That's incredibly honest."
You couldn't stop a small smile from appearing.
Jungkook walked over to the counter to order his own coffee. A few minutes later, he stood there looking around.
There were plenty of empty tables. But he pointed to one not too far from yours.
"I'll sit over there, okay?"
You blinked. "...Why are you telling me?"
"So you won't get startled."
"..."
"...and run away."
You looked down, laughing softly. "Okay."
Jungkook smiled, looking satisfied. "Okay."
There wasn't much conversation after that. You sat at your own tables. You read the book you'd brought from your Airbnb. Jungkook occasionally looked through the photos on his camera and took pictures of the street outside the window. Every now and then, the two of you accidentally looked at each other, only to quickly look away again. Somehow, the situation didn't feel awkward.
It felt... peaceful. Almost an hour passed like that.
When you finished and stood up to leave, Jungkook happened to stand up too. "Done?"
"Yeah."
"Was the coffee good?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
"I liked mine too."
Silence returned. You started walking toward the door. Jungkook followed a few steps behind. Once outside, you realized you had to head in different directions.
"You're going that way?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
"Oh."
The two of you laughed softly again. Jungkook slipped both hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"...I've started thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"Maybe we really do run into each other a lot."
You looked at the small street stretching out before you.
"...Maybe."
"Maybe this country is just too small."
"Maybe."
"Or maybe..."
Jungkook stopped talking.
"Why'd you stop?"
"...Never mind."
"What?"
"...If I say it's fate, you'll probably run away again."
You burst out laughing. "I'm not that quick to run away."
"Oh really?"
"...Maybe."
Jungkook laughed too. "Okay."
The two of you stood there for a few more seconds before finally walking off in opposite directions.
After only a few steps, you heard Jungkook call out to you. "Hey."
You turned around. "Hm?"
"See you again."
You almost answered, If the universe allows it.
But instead, you simply smiled. "...I hope so."
Jungkook nodded softly. Then the two of you really did walk away. And for the first time since arriving in that little country, you realized something slightly concerning.
That day… You didn't run away. And even more concerning than that… As you walked back, you secretly found yourself hoping that tomorrow, you'd run into Jeon Jungkook again.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The next morning, you woke up feeling a little strange.
For the first few seconds after opening your eyes, you simply stared at the ceiling of your Airbnb room, trying to remember what had happened yesterday. Then it all came rushing back. The mountain village. The little train. Jeon Jungkook. The conversation that had felt completely unreal. And the fact that the two of you had actually exchanged phone numbers.
You reached for your phone on the nightstand.
No messages.
You let out a relieved sigh.
Good.
That was how it should be. You had only met by coincidence, talked for a little while, introduced yourselves, and then gone back to enjoying your own vacations.
That made much more sense.
Then your phone buzzed.
Jungkook:
Have you had breakfast yet?
You stared at the screen for quite a while.
"..."
This was weird.
Very weird.
Yesterday, the two of you had only just met. Today, Jeon Jungkook was texting to ask whether you had eaten breakfast.
You even checked the contact name one more time, just to make sure.
You:
Not yet.
The reply came in less than a minute.
Jungkook:
Me neither.
"..."
Jungkook:
Don't tell me we're going to run into each other again.
A small laugh escaped you.
You:
Don't.
Jungkook:
I'm scared too.
You frowned.
You:
Scared?
Jungkook:
You'll run away again.
You immediately buried your face in your pillow.
Oh, God.
He still remembered that.
A few hours later, you decided to visit a small market the Airbnb owner had recommended. It wasn't very crowded. There was a flower shop, a cheese shop, a few bakeries, and several stalls selling local fruit.
You were picking out some fruit when someone stopped beside you.
"...Hi."
Slowly, you turned your head.
"..."
"..."
Jungkook raised both his hands.
"I'm not following you."
"I know."
"I really mean it."
"I know."
"I just came to buy strawberries."
You looked down at the basket in his hand. Sure enough, it was full of strawberries.
You gave a small nod. "Okay."
Jungkook watched you for a few seconds. "...You're not running away?"
You let out a quiet sigh. "...No."
Relief immediately spread across Jungkook's face. "Thank goodness."
Somehow, the two of you ended up walking around the market together. Nothing had really been planned. You just happened to be heading in the same direction. Jungkook occasionally stopped to look at things—a knitted hat, a small camping knife, an old film camera—while you were much more interested in the local snacks being sold along the roadside.
"Want to try it?"
You held up a small pastry.
Jungkook shook his head. "What is it?"
"I have no idea."
"You want to eat something when you don't even know what it is?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
"...Weird."
"Was that a compliment?"
"Maybe."
In the end, the two of you bought one and shared it. It turned out not to taste very good. Jungkook stayed quiet. You stayed quiet. Then both of you burst into laughter.
"I'm never buying that again."
"Me neither."
After that, the conversation became easier. You talked about food, about your respective countries, about the places you had visited during your vacations, and about why you had chosen that small country in the first place.
"I like quiet places."
Jungkook nodded.
"Me too."
"Do you travel alone often?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
He smiled softly.
"It's difficult."
You understood. He didn't have to explain any further. There were plenty of things that didn't need to be asked. And Jungkook was beginning to realize something. You really were like that.
You didn't ask many questions about BTS. You didn't ask about schedules. You didn't ask about his private life. If he talked, you listened. If he stayed quiet, you never pushed him.
It was strange. But comfortable.
By late afternoon, the two of you walked up a small hill overlooking the town. The wind was fairly cold. You stood by the wooden fence, gazing at the mountains in the distance, while Jungkook quietly picked up his camera.
Click.
You turned around.
"What did you take a picture of?"
"The scenery."
"Then why did I hear the camera?"
"...Coincidence."
"What kind of coincidence?"
"You happened to be in the frame."
You laughed immediately.
"Don't."
"Why?"
"I look awful."
Jungkook looked at you for a moment.
"...No."
The answer came far too quickly. The two of you fell silent for a few seconds.
Jungkook hurriedly looked away. "What I mean is..."
"Hm?"
"...the view is beautiful."
You nodded softly.
"Yeah."
"..."
"..."
"...and you just happened to be standing there."
This time, you really laughed. Meanwhile, Jungkook quietly turned his face away because his ears were beginning to turn red.
That evening, the two of you parted ways at the road leading back to your respective accommodations.
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For keeping me company."
Jungkook shrugged. "You're welcome."
You gave him a small wave. "See you tomorrow."
The words slipped out before you could stop them.
Both of you froze.
"..."
"..."
Jungkook smiled first. "See you tomorrow?"
Only then did you realize what you had said. "...If we happen to run into each other."
"Hm."
"And if we don't, that's okay too."
"Hm."
Jungkook gave a small nod.
"...But I hope we do."
You smiled.
"...Me too."
That night, after returning to your Airbnb, you finished showering and sat down on your bed while checking your phone.
There was one new message.
Jungkook:
Today was fun.
A small smile spread across your face.
You:
Yeah.
Jungkook:
And...
You waited.
Jungkook:
Thank you for not running away.
You laughed to yourself in your room.
You:
I got tired of running too.
In the Airbnb next door, Jungkook read your reply and quietly laughed. Then his phone rang. A video call from Kim Nam-joon.
"Hello?"
"How's your vacation going?"
"Good."
"Getting some rest?"
"Hm."
"Any stories to tell?"
Jungkook stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"...I met someone."
"Oh?"
"She's funny."
"An ARMY?"
"Yeah."
"Asked for a photo or an autograph?"
"No."
"A video?"
"No."
"A selfie?"
"No."
Namjoon started laughing.
"Then what?"
"...She ran away instead."
"I still can't believe that."
"Neither can I."
Jungkook looked at the chat window that was still open on his phone.
"...But today, she didn't run away."
"That's good."
Jungkook smiled softly.
"...Yeah."
For the first time since arriving in that small country, he felt like his vacation had turned into something he had never planned for.
At first, he had only wanted to disappear from a world that had become far too crowded.
To rest.
To breathe.
To just be an ordinary Jungkook.
But somehow… In a country that tourists rarely chose, he met an ARMY who never asked him for anything. Someone who would rather talk about bread and scenery than BTS. Someone who had run away from him four days in a row. And someone who, without even realizing it, had started making Jeon Jungkook hope… Tomorrow, they will meet again.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
A few days after that meeting at the little coffee shop, the two of you slowly got used to each other's presence.
It was strange, really.
At first, you couldn't even be in the same room as Jeon Jungkook without panicking. Now...
Your phone buzzed.
Jungkook:
What are you doing?
You smiled softly.
You:
Walking around.
Less than a minute later—
Jungkook:
Me too.
You stared at the message for a few seconds.
You:
Don't tell me...
Jungkook:
I'm scared too.
You laughed to yourself.
Apparently, the universe still enjoyed playing jokes. A few minutes later, the two of you actually ran into each other at a small intersection.
"...Hi."
"Hi."
"..."
"..."
Jungkook let out a long sigh.
"I'm not following you."
"I know."
"I really mean it."
"I know."
"I'm just out walking too."
"Me too."
Jungkook nodded, looking satisfied.
"Good."
"What's good?"
"It means I'm not weird."
You laughed softly.
"We're both weird."
"Okay, that's fair."
That day, neither of you had any plans. You simply followed little streets that weren't even on the tourist map. Sometimes stopping to look at old shops. Sometimes admiring historical buildings. Sometimes simply enjoying the slow pace of the little town.
Eventually, you stumbled upon a small night market. The lights had started coming on. The smell of food filled the air. Traditional music drifted over from somewhere in the distance.
"Want to take a look?"
You nodded.
"Sure."
The problem appeared a few minutes later.
You were standing in front of a food stall. The entire menu was written in the local language. You stared at it for quite a while. Jungkook stood beside you.
"...Do you understand any of it?"
"No."
"You?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Oh."
You just stood there. The employee had started watching the two of you. Jungkook pulled out his phone.
"I have a translator."
"Wow."
He typed something in. The phone processed it for a few seconds.
"...Chicken soup."
You looked at the picture. "That looks like dessert."
"You're right."
You tried your own translator. The result was different. "...Fish bread."
"That's definitely not bread."
"Yeah."
The employee started smiling at your confusion.
Jungkook turned to you. "So?"
"We'll just guess."
"Brave."
"Aren't you?"
Jungkook smiled. "I trust you."
"Don't."
"Why?"
"I don't know either."
In the end, you pointed at one item. Jungkook pointed at another. The employee nodded. A few minutes later, your food arrived. The two of you looked at each other.
"..."
"..."
"Is that yours?"
"I think so."
"And this one's mine?"
"I think so."
You took a bite. Jungkook watched your expression.
"So?"
"..."
"..."
"...I don't know."
Jungkook started laughing.
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"It tastes..."
"...confusing."
Jungkook tried his own food. Then stopped chewing.
"...I don't know either."
A few seconds later, the two of you burst out laughing. Not because the food was bad. But because neither of you had any idea what you were eating.
"We ordered the wrong thing, didn't we?"
"I think so."
"We failed."
"Completely."
You still finished the food. Because according to Jungkook, it would be a waste to throw it away. And according to you, this would make a funny memory someday. Afterward, you continued walking, this time carrying warm drinks that felt safer because the pictures were clear. Jungkook glanced at you from time to time.
"You know?"
"Hm?"
"You're different."
"How?"
"You never make a fuss."
"What do you mean?"
"We ordered the wrong food."
"Yeah."
"You didn't get mad."
"Why would I?"
"We wasted time."
"But it was funny."
Jungkook stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"Yeah."
"Besides..."
You looked down the little road ahead of you.
"...I never would've known that weird food existed if I hadn't been with you."
Jungkook smiled softly. "Me too."
You kept walking until you reached a small souvenir shop. Outside was a claw machine.
Jungkook stopped. "Do you want one?"
You looked at the little plush toys inside. "They're cute."
"I'll win one for you."
"You can?"
"Of course."
Jungkook put in a coin.
Tried.
Failed.
"..."
You stayed quiet.
He tried again.
Failed.
"..."
You started smiling.
He tried again.
Failed.
The shop employee started watching. A little kid next to you started watching too.
Jungkook got serious. "I can do this."
"Hm."
"I really can."
"Hm."
Seventh try.
Failed.
You couldn't hold back your laughter.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"A little."
"This machine is rigged."
"It might be."
Eighth try.
The plush finally dropped.
Jungkook smiled proudly. "There."
"There what?"
"This."
He handed the little plush to you.
You blinked. "For me?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Jungkook shrugged. "...So you'll remember today."
You accepted the little plush. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
A few steps later, Jungkook suddenly asked, "Are you going to keep it?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You're not throwing it away?"
"No."
Jungkook smiled, looking satisfied. "Good."
"Why is that good?"
"...I'm just happy."
The sun was starting to set. You stood on a small bridge overlooking the river. Neither of you spoke for a while. The wind blew softly. Jungkook watched the water flow beneath you.
"You know?"
"Hm?"
"...It's been a long time since I've gone for a walk like this."
"Why?"
"I'm usually in a hurry."
"Hm."
"Usually there's a schedule."
"Hm."
"Usually I have to be careful."
You turned toward him. "...What about now?"
Jungkook smiled softly. "...Right now, I'm just taking a walk with you."
You didn't answer right away. You simply looked down at the little plush in your hands. And somehow… As you walked home that evening… You started thinking that maybe… The two of you weren't meeting by coincidence anymore.
Meanwhile, Jungkook, walking a few steps beside you, was quietly thinking the same thing. He just… Wasn't brave enough to say it yet.
When the afternoon came to an end, you walked home together. This time, Jungkook insisted on walking you back to your Airbnb. Eventually, you stopped in front of a building.
You pointed to the door on the left. "I'm staying here."
Jungkook blinked.
"Huh?"
He pointed at your building.
"This is your Airbnb?"
"Yeah."
"That's my Airbnb," Jungkook said, pointing to a house two doors down from yours.
The two of you stared at each other.
"..."
"..."
"You're kidding."
You shook your head.
Jungkook started laughing.
"No way."
It turned out your Airbnbs were practically next to each other, separated by just one house.
And from then on… You spent almost every day together. Sometimes having breakfast. Sometimes walking around town. Sometimes visiting little museums. Sometimes taking trains to nearby villages. Sometimes just sitting in the park doing absolutely nothing. And as time passed, Jungkook started feeling something strange. Because you… Really treated him like an ordinary person.
You almost never took out your phone. Never asked for pictures. Never asked for an autograph. Never secretly recorded videos.
One day, Jungkook finally asked, "Don't you want a picture?"
"Hm?"
"A picture."
"Oh."
You shook your head.
"Why?"
"We're hanging out."
Jungkook waited for another answer.
None came.
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
"You don't want a souvenir?"
You smiled softly. "I'd rather remember it."
Jungkook fell silent.
Another day, the two of you were having lunch when Jungkook suddenly asked,
"Aren't you curious about BTS?"
"I am."
"What do you want to know?"
"A lot."
"Then why don't you ask?"
You shrugged.
"If you want to tell me, you'll tell me."
"And if I don't?"
"That's okay too."
"Weird."
"You've said that a lot."
Jungkook laughed.
And with each passing day, he felt more comfortable. He could walk around without worrying about being secretly photographed. He could eat without rushing. He could sit quietly and enjoy the scenery.
Sometimes, the two of you would simply walk for hours without saying much. And strangely… It never felt awkward.
One afternoon, you were sitting by the lake while Jungkook watched you feeding the birds.
"You know?"
"Hm?"
"I'm glad I met you."
You laughed softly. "That's the biggest stroke of luck I've ever had as an ARMY."
Jungkook shook his head. "I'm the lucky one."
You laughed immediately. "That's impossible."
"I'm serious."
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Vacations, it turned out, had an annoying habit.
The first few days always felt slow. You could still sleep in. You could still spend hours sitting in cafés. You could still stop at every little shop that caught your eye. But the closer you got to the last day... the faster time seemed to move.
You didn't realize it until you opened the calendar on your phone.
Two days left.
In two days, you'd be going home.
For some reason, seeing that number made you feel a little strange.
That morning, your phone buzzed.
Jungkook:
Awake yet?
You smiled softly.
You:
Yeah.
Jungkook:
Want to go back to the lake today?
You:
Sure.
Jungkook:
Want me to pick you up?
You stared at the message for a few seconds.
You:
Okay.
Less than twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock on your Airbnb door.
When you opened it, Jungkook was already standing there in a black hoodie, a camera hanging around his neck.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
"Had breakfast yet?"
"No."
"Me neither."
The two of you looked at each other.
"..."
"..."
Jungkook smiled.
"I don't think we've ever had breakfast separately."
You laughed too. "You're right."
The two of you walked toward the town center. The sky was clear that morning, and the weather was pleasantly warm.
According to the forecast, it was supposed to be the perfect day for a walk. The forecast was wrong. When you were only halfway to the lake, raindrops started falling.
At first, lightly. Then harder.
"Should we run?"
"Let's run."
The two of you laughed as you hurried to find shelter, eventually spotting an old café on a street corner.
The café was small. Warm. And almost empty. You walked in, slightly soaked from the rain. The employee greeted you with a smile and invited you to sit down.
Jungkook looked out the window. "I think this is going to last a while."
You looked outside too. The rain was only getting heavier.
"...Yeah."
In the end, you ordered coffee. And waited. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. The rain didn't stop.
"So, we failed to make it to the lake."
Jungkook nodded. "Yeah."
"Are you disappointed?"
He thought for a moment. "...No."
"Why?"
"I like it here."
You looked around the little café. "Me too."
For a while, the two of you simply sat in silence. Neither of you felt the need to fill it.
Outside, the rain kept falling. People walked by carrying umbrellas. Soft music played from somewhere in the corner. Jungkook played with his coffee cup.
"You know?"
"Hm?"
"...I can't remember the last time I just sat like this."
"Why?"
"I'm usually busy."
"Hm."
"Usually there's a schedule."
"Hm."
"Usually, when it rains..."
He laughed softly. "...I just think about being late."
You nodded.
"What about now?"
Jungkook looked out at the rain. "...Now I'm hoping it lasts longer."
You smiled softly. "...Me too."
The conversation flowed naturally after that. About your job. About Jungkook's school days. Favorite foods. Places you wanted to visit. Little things people normally wouldn't tell someone they'd only recently met.
"Do you have any dreams?"
You thought for a moment. "A lot."
"Like what?"
"I want a small house someday."
"Hm."
"With a garden."
"Hm."
"Lots of plants."
"Hm."
"And a room for reading books."
Jungkook smiled. "That sounds peaceful."
"Yeah."
"What about you?"
This time, Jungkook thought for quite a while. "...I want an ordinary life."
You looked at him. "Ordinary?"
"Yeah."
"What do you mean?"
He laughed softly. "...Like this."
"Hm?"
"Going for walks."
"Drinking coffee."
"Waiting for the rain to stop."
"Not rushing anywhere."
He gave a small shrug. "...Simple things."
You didn't know what to say. Because to you… That day really was simple. But for Jungkook… Maybe it was a luxury.
Time kept passing. The rain kept falling. Before you realized it, the two of you had spent almost three hours in that café. Jungkook looked at his watch.
"We've been here a long time."
"Yeah."
"Are you bored?"
You shook your head. "No."
"Me neither."
Then silence returned. Strange. But comfortable.
When the rain finally started to ease, the two of you stood up and got ready to leave. The air outside felt colder. The streets were still wet. You slowly walked back toward your respective Airbnbs. Neither of you really spoke. Until you stopped in front of yours.
"You're going home the day after tomorrow."
You nodded. "Yeah."
"Oh."
"Oh."
Jungkook slipped both hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
It looked like he wanted to say something. "I..."
You waited.
"Hm?"
"..."
"..."
"...Never mind."
You laughed softly. "Why?"
"...I don't know."
"You're weird."
"Yeah."
The two of you laughed together. But after that… Neither of you said anything else.
You gave a small wave. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
You started walking first.
A few steps.
One.
Two.
Five.
For some reason, you turned around. Jungkook was still standing there. He hadn't left. When he saw you looking back, he quickly waved. You waved back. Then kept walking.
Meanwhile… Jungkook stayed right where he was. Until you disappeared from sight. He let out a quiet sigh. Then laughed to himself.
"I almost said it."
He shoved both hands back into his hoodie pockets and started walking toward his Airbnb. He'd almost said that he didn't want this vacation to end. Almost said that he'd started looking for reasons to see you the next day. Almost said that he'd started waiting for your messages every morning. Almost said that he'd started liking someone who was only supposed to be a vacation friend. But he didn't say any of it.
Because, to him… It was still too soon. And maybe… Once you went home… Everything would go back to normal.
Back at your own Airbnb, you opened the door and set your bag down on the chair. The day should have been simple. You'd failed to make it to the lake. Just sat in a little café. Just talked. Just waited for the rain to stop.
But somehow… As you got ready for bed that night… You opened your phone gallery. There were no pictures of Jungkook. No selfies. No photos of the two of you together. Just a picture of a cup of coffee. The café window is covered in raindrops. And the little street after the rain had stopped.
You looked at those pictures for a long time. Then, without realizing it, you smiled softly. And for the first time since arriving in that little country… A slightly terrifying thought crossed your mind.
What if... when I go home... I end up missing Jeon Jungkook?
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
And for the first time… You felt like something had changed. But you chose not to think about it. Because the vacation was almost over. You would go home. And Jungkook would return to his world.
The last day came far too quickly. The two of you met in front of your Airbnb.
You smiled.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being such a good vacation friend."
Jungkook nodded softly.
"You're going home today."
"Yeah."
"You'll be busy again."
"Yeah."
Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. "If I text you..."
You smiled. "I'll reply."
Jungkook smiled in relief. "Okay."
You boarded your flight and returned to your country. The entire trip home, you looked through the pictures you'd taken during your vacation. There wasn't a single picture of Jungkook. And to you… Maybe that was the end of the story. A small stroke of luck in an ARMY's life. Meeting your idol. Becoming friends for a few days. Then going back to your separate lives.
But apparently… Jeon Jungkook didn't see it that way.
The first night after you got home… Your phone buzzed.
Jungkook:
I ate this today.
A picture of food.
You smiled.
You:
It looks good.
The next day.
Jungkook:
It's raining today.
Followed by a picture of the street.
The day after that.
Jungkook:
Look at this cute dog.
The day after that.
Jungkook:
Have you eaten yet?
Slowly… The chats became a habit. Then phone calls. Then video calls. Until one night, both of you were too exhausted. And without realizing it… You fell asleep on a video call.
The next morning, you woke up. The screen was still on. Jungkook had just woken up too. The two of you looked at each other for a few seconds. Then burst out laughing.
Several months passed like that. Until one day, Jungkook asked,
"Are you busy next week?"
"Why?"
"I'm coming to your country."
You nearly dropped your phone. "Huh?"
"I want to see you."
"But..."
"I don't have any plans."
"How is that possible?"
"I'm on break."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah."
You thought he was joking. Until a week later… Your phone buzzed.
Jungkook:
I'm here.
You froze.
You:
Huh?
Jungkook:
Look outside.
You opened the window. Across the street… Jeon Jungkook was standing there, waving at you. You couldn't believe it.
"What are you doing here?!"
"I wanted to see you."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
"You flew for hours just for that?!"
"Yeah."
You looked at him for several seconds. It felt like a dream. A dream that was too beautiful. And you kept thinking… One day, you'd wake up. One day, it would all end. One day, he'd realize that the two of you came from different worlds. But Jungkook seemed to read your mind.
One night, as you were walking home together, he quietly said, "You know?"
"What?"
"I'm not joking around."
You looked at him.
"I'm serious."
You smiled softly. "But it's still hard for me to believe."
"I know."
"This feels like a dream."
"I know."
"I'm just waiting for the day I wake up."
Jungkook stopped walking. Then looked at you with a smile. "In that case..."
"Hm?"
"I'll still be here tomorrow."
And he was right. He was still there the next day. The next week too. And somehow, with whatever luck was on your side...
A little while later, your company offered you a transfer. There was only one destination. South Korea.
You read the email over and over again. Then called Jungkook.
"Hello?"
"..."
"Are you crying?"
"I got transferred."
"Oh?"
"To Korea."
There was silence for a few seconds. Then you heard Jungkook laugh. A laugh so full of happiness that you started laughing too.
"Are you serious?!"
"Yeah."
"When?"
You answered. And without a second thought, Jungkook said, "I'll pick you up."
From that day on, everything felt easier. You were no longer separated by thousands of kilometers. No longer counting time differences. No longer only meeting through screens. And one night, after walking you home, Jungkook stood outside your apartment for a long time.
"I want to ask you something."
"What?"
"I flew to your country."
"Yeah."
"I stayed on video calls until we fell asleep."
"Yeah."
"I sent you pictures of food every day."
"Yeah."
"I waited for you to move to Korea."
"Yeah."
Jungkook took a slow breath.
"I'm tired of pretending to be just a friend."
You froze.
"I like you."
"..."
"I'm serious."
You stayed quiet. Because a part of you still thought… This had to be a dream. Jungkook laughed softly when he saw your expression.
"You're thinking this is a dream again, aren't you?"
"...A little."
In that case, he took a step closer and gently took your hand.
"How about we date?"
Part 2 →
✨EARLY ACCESS✨ | Read the next part before everyone else on my Ko-fi ☕️
Author Notes: 2000 followers wohoo!! I got tickets to their concert... (ugly crying).. Honestly, I wanted to see them in my own country, but my country is one of the later stops on the tour. So I thought it would be better to secure tickets somewhere first. Turns out luck was truly on my side. I got tickets in my own country today too! To everyone who managed to get tickets—congratulations! 💜 And to those who weren't lucky this time, don't be too sad. They'll still be around for the next 100 years (okay, maybe not literally 😂), and I'm sure you'll get the chance to see them on the next tour! ✨🥹💜
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