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syndxlla · 2 years

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Part Seventeen of the More To Love series

Summary: You prepare to runaway, you discover why Korkie actually wants to marry you, and you learn the true meaning of intimacy

Word Count: 9.3k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT 18+ CONTENT PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 (PiV, kinda public kink?, dirty talk, sensory deprivation.), alcohol, drunkness, swearing, virginity test, blood, references to blood, non-consensual sexual acts, sexual harassment, straight up misogyny, references to murder, references to robbery, references to war, references to banishment, bruising, graphic explanation of post-rape circumstances.

DISCLAIMER: this chapter has a very brief and undetailed rape scene. it is short, but necessary to the plot. it will be indicated by chapter breaks and brackets for those who wish to skip. The chapter also goes into detail of the aftermath of that event. please do not read if this is a trigger for you.

the hotline for sexual harassment support in the US is 1-800-656-4673

please seek support if you are a victim of sexual assault. my DMS are always open.

Author’s Note: This chapter hurts in all of the best ways. A perfect mixture of angst, fluff and smut. I really outdid myself.

SPOILER BUT IT NEEDS TO BE SAID: I did not intend for a rape scene when I began writing this, as a victim of sexual harassment, its never something I want to romanticize. However, it became very clear to me early on that if I needed Korkie to be a real villain, and give out Princess a real reason to runaway other than her horniness, I needed to add something that would give some real emotional weight. This fan fiction was never just a fairytale, and I have intended to tackle heavy topics head on fro the first chapter. If you would like to chat more about my decision to add this into the plot, please feel free to send an ask or DM me.

Part sixteen

Three days until the Wedding.

You look at yourself in the mirror as the maids pin final alterations to your body. The dress was ridiculous honestly, the mandalorian symbol embroidered in diamonds on the bodice, a corset too tight to breathe in, and a skirt that was wide enough that you would need a cane to walk down the aisle in it. The hardest part is that after last night, you were a little sore, and your legs were getting tired from under you. A lot of your previous activities are a blur at this point, you don’t know how many times you and Din had gone at it, you just know that you’re fucked out for the time being.

Din stands behind the mirror, you can’t see him, but both of you are thinking about it. Soniee accidentally picks your bicep with a needle, and you flinch in response. It didn’t hurt, but you move out of instinct.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.” She replies in a timid voice, her eyes blown wide and face pale, afraid of how you might respond to the minor injury. You look down at your arm, a small dot of blood where the needle went into your skin. It didn’t sting or anything, you just lifted your hand up and wiped it away. You never would have done something like that before coming here, and yet you’ve changed so much since you arrived in this kingdom.

“No worries, Soniee.” You say in response, her face relaxes at your response. Din walks around to make sure everything is okay, and in seeing his beskar-clad figure, you immediately get butterflies. You were down bad. “Everything is alright, Sir.” You blush as you reassure him. You know he’ll notice, which only makes you blush more, but you can’t help it. You loved him. “There is no need for stress, dear.” You explain to Soniee, “I’m not hurt.” You try to flash a comforting smile.

“Apologizes.”

“Stop apologizing! It’s fine.” You nod.

“I know.. It’s just-“ She holds her tongue.

“Just what?” You ask, prodding farther.

“Well… servants have been sentenced to death for harming a royal before.” Her voice is so timid, you feel a sense of remorse.

“It was just a small prick, it’s nothing, really.” You nod.

“Yes but even thoughts can have dire consequences.” Soniee clears her throat as she explains. You look up at Din after she says this, and he just slightly nods, confirming that Mandalore would do something so heartless. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. You hated the royalty here, the people of Mandalore are wonderful, they have stories and memories and a rich culture and all the Queen does is desecrate it with her thirst for war.

“Well that’s just ridiculous.” You state. The maids all look at each other in shock after you say that. You took it that not many people (especially those in the Queen’s inner-circle) had the bravery to outright speak against a custom. “There’s no reason to punish you for a mistake. The Queen is wrong for that.” Everyone holds their tongue. You didn’t care, it felt good to call her out for something like that. You have a mischievous feeling in your chest as you got daring enough to have your own opinion in this place. Opinions should be celebrated, not frowned upon.

You and Din roam the halls, not really going anywhere in particular. Your fitting is finished and you had initially wanted to visit the library, but you took a wrong turn and you’re honestly too lazy to correct yourself. Din is two paces behind you, and you stop, turning to look at him. You nod, beckoning him by your side. He walks up, standing close to you.

“You look lovely in that dress.” He compliments quietly under the helmet.

You smile in response, “It’s a shame I’ll never wear it when it’s finished.” You hear that gentle chuckle under his breath that you loved so much. “When are we leaving.”

“We shouldn’t discuss this so openly.” He states.

“No one is around.” You challenge.

“Bo has eyes and ears everywhere in this forsaken palace.”

“Wait… what?” You stop, turning to face him. “Surely you don’t mean everywhere.”

“No, not everywhere, but certainly in the halls.”

“Fine,” you raise your chin, grab Din by his gloved-hand, and pull him into the closest room. It was a typical sitting room, one that you had fallen asleep in reading up on the history of the kingdom during your first humiliating week here. It was empty, luckily, and you firmly closed the door behind Din. Both of you know how tempting it is to be in an enclosed room completely alone together, and the air thickens around the two of you. “When are we leaving.” You restate your question, your back up against the heavy door.

“The day before.”

“What? Why not leave now?” You aren’t sure if you can handle two more days in this prison.

“Because then they’ll have time to look for us before the wedding. We can’t give them more than a few hours to search for us.”

“You say that like they know you’re involved, too.” You fold your arms.

“Oh I’m sure they do, have you forgotten that we kissed in front of a majority of the staff?” He says in a playful tone, although you knew the subtext.

“Okay, so we’ll leave the day before. But what am I supposed to do until then?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Keep pretending I’m hopelessly in love with a bad person?” You emphasize your words dreamily to show the sarcasm of the statement. Din smiles under the helmet, he wished you could see. He can’t wait to show you his face.

“I mean… something like that.” His voice is dark and he’s taking a step towards you. Your core immediately jumps, and you can’t look away from his mysterious visor. You bite your lip, pulling your arms down by your sides, your breathing already hiking.

“What else?” You tease, prodding farther.

“Well, you might want to enjoy the life of luxury that you’re willingly giving up for a stranger.” He’s taking his gloves off, slowly, tantalizingly, as if he was stripping you from your own clothes.

“I wouldn’t call you a stranger.” You turn your head as you look at him, a piece of your hair falling in front of your face.

“What would you call me?” He asks, his bare hand reaching up to brush the hair away from your face and your spine burns and legs ache. You’re probably blushing like a child, but you can’t even focus because he’s so close and yet so far and you wish you could just rip that helmet off of his head and kiss his face everywhere. “Hm?” He hums, asking his question again without even opening his mouth and after the hair is tucked away the tip of his thumb is running against your quivering bottom lip.

“A bad influence.” You finally say before wrapping your lips around his thumb, your eyelashes batting as you look up at his visor and suck on his tongue, swirling your tongue around it, wishing it was something else, but knowing that this would be enough to drive him where you wanted him. His free hand grabs your waist, gripping it tightly and pulling your hips against his. He lets you suck on his thumb for a while, just staring down at you. You can see his beskar chestplate heaving in front of you, and yet you never take your eyes off of his helmet. Din pulls his finger out of your mouth, wiping your spit over your lips as he does it.

“You know what I would call you?” He asks, bringing his mouth close to your ear, the chill of the metal against your cheek. “My weakness.”

Din is picking you up before you can even reply and carrying you to one of the sofas, he sits down so you’re straddling him, and you both wished his codpiece was out of the way, but you ground down on him anyways, rearranging your skirt and undergarments so that your soaked core was against the metal, it was cold and slick but just what you liked. Both of you are making the most pathetic little noises, filling the room with lustful breathing and sighs.

Din tilts his head back, resting his helmet on the back of the seat and exposing a little sliver of his thick neck for you to latch your lips to and suck deep, greedy hickeys into. The two of you don’t make it like that very long before he’s shifting under you and pulling out his cock. It’s not the most comfortable clothing situation for either of you, but you were both so desperate that it didn’t really matter. Din is already so hard with such little foreplay, and neither of you really needed that right now, you just needed him inside of your aching cunt.

Din’s cock is huge, you always have to ease yourself into him, and you let out the most obscene moan as you sink onto him. He’s dry and rough and it’s not ideal but there was something about that that made it better. It doesn’t take long for your absolutely soaked cunt to slick him up enough and start moving. You wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands dig underneath your dress to find your bare ass. He stays still as you adjust and find an angle that’s comfortable for you and when you start lifting up and down against his length he lets out a moan too and you can’t help but bite your lip. You loved knowing that you have this effect on him.

Din kneads your ass, playing with your thighs, pulling at your hips. Skin-to-skin is rare with him, and you constantly craved it. You would fuck him all day if you could, there was nothing you loved more than being with him, than letting his cock split you in half.

Your pace speeds up, and he’s breathing so heavily that you wonder if he’s getting enough good air through the helmet. You lift and drop your hips over and over and over again, feeling every delicious inch of him. You feel how his tip stretches you, and how you tighten around him. The way he twitches inside of you, the way your clit is rutting against his body, how he pulls you closer to him. Din was your drug, and you were his.

He eventually takes control, his hands supporting your weight and manually lifting you up and down his cock. He goes at his own pace now, which is much faster and rougher than yours. He reangles his hips and it isn’t much longer until your skin is slapping with his and it’s filthy. The sounds of sex fill the room, and you’re the one to throw your head back now, reaching your arms back to brace yourself against his thigh-plates. He’s swearing under his breath, and one hand comes out to grab one of your breasts. He pulls it out of your bodice, and your nipples are so sensitive that the cold hair just makes them harder. He fondles your tit, swiping his thumb over it as he fucks up into you. He slaps it playfully a few times, and you giggle.

“You’re so cute.” He sighs under his helmet.

Before the two of you can go any farther or faster, chasing your orgasms, you’re interrupted by the sound of voices outside of the door. You both stop what you’re doing, turning to look at it.

“Did you lock it?” He asks.

“Fuck, I can’t remember.” You’re quickly trying to think of something, pulling up off of his cock, your spent cunt contracting from feeling empty again. Din’s cock is angry and swollen and leaking pre-cum and it’s so perfect you want to put your mouth on it but then the voices get loud and the doorknob starts to turn and you’re both jumping up, scanning the room and collectively sprinting to a closet on the south wall. Din is awkwardly cupping himself and you tuck your breast into your dress and somehow by the grace of the stars make it into the closet and close the door before anyone walks in on you.

You look at Din and you both stifle a laugh, You bury your head into his shoulder, holding your breath and forgetting that you’re leaking down your thighs. He’s breathing so heavily and the both of you can hardly believe you hid yourselves quick enough.

The silent laughter stops as soon as Korkie enters the sitting room. The closet is slatted, and you can see out of it, but no one can see in. Your stomach drops. He’s followed by a few other men, one of which looked like Vizsla but you weren’t sure.

“Fuck.” You say as quietly as you can. Din sees them too, although it’s hard when his sight is obstructed by two things. It was dark enough in here though that he took a risk, and pulled his helmet off. He catches his breath, enjoying the cooler air.

He leans down so his lips are against your jaw and he’s kissing you and you’re terrified of getting caught but you can’t ignore your aching clit. Din kisses your ear, and whispers “Don’t turn around. Don’t make a sound.” You watch in horror as the men laugh, drinking Vodka and sitting on the very couch you were just fucking yourself on your personal Knight’s massive cock.

Din bunches up your skirt, pushes you forward as much as you can in this small space, and re-enters your painfully empty cunt. His cock is stretching you again, and his arms are in front of your torso, holding you up and supporting your weight as he starts to very slowly and carefully thrust in and out of you. You’re breath hitches, and one of his hands wrap around to cover your mouth, making sure that your nose isn’t covered at all. Your eyes are blown wide, your heart racing.

You and Din have broken rules, you’ve done risky shit, but nothing like this. He’s sucking on your earlobe, biting at it and his pace is so slow but it’s what he has to do to keep you as quiet as possible. It was the opposite of a minute ago, where it was hot and angry and hard. This was exciting, terrifying, and so steady. Your eyes roll into the back of your head for a moment after you run your own fingers against your clit, feeling how slick your pussy lips are.

You hold your breath so much that Din has to whisper into your ear again to remind you to breathe and you’re taking a shaky breath through your nose as your walls stretch. Your legs are so unsteady from fear and desire, you’re happy that such a strong man was doing most of the work right now.

The men outside begin talking, and you bite your lip, trying to eavesdrop and not pass out at the same time. You can’t really hear the start of their conversation, but there’s plenty of laughter and drunkenness. Just how your asshole fiance liked it. You have a clear view of him, he’s sitting with his legs spread apart in the very spot you almost just came on because of another man.

“Are you ready to be a married man?” You can see him literally roll his eyes at the question.

“And never have a bed to myself again?” The other men laugh at Korkie's response.

“If it was your way you would always have a bitch in your bed!” Another man cheers out and the laughter continues. Din’s hips speed up just a little against you, you arch your back in response.

“Not her though!” One of his friends says, “She probably doesn’t even fuck!” Ironic, Din hears it too and gives you an especially hard thrust from behind afterwards. It takes everything in you not to moan.

“It’s fine, I only need her for an heir, sex once a week starting next week, short, quick, to the point. I probably won’t even get fully naked for her!” The laughter is loud enough that it masks any sound you and Din might be making. You felt angry at Korkie, what a bastard.

“That’s right, sex isn’t for a woman’s pleasure anyways!” They laugh again.

Din bits your neck, “They’re wrong.” He mutters in your ear again, kissing your temple afterwards.

“It doesn’t even matter, we’re using her for Corellia anyways.” You were definitely listening now. The hard thing is that you’re close to your climax, and you aren’t even sure if you’re hearing things correctly, but you won’t be mistaken when it comes to your home kingdom.

Din’s pace is back up enough that you’re chasing your high, and he is too. You watch the men though, listening closely. You needed to hear this.

“For the war effort!” The man you think is Vizsla yells, raising a shot glass. Why was everything here about war? And why did they want Corellia?

“We’ll be using their access to the northern sea for Trade with Alderaan, and a northern-sea opening against those Coruscanti Bitches!” Korkie laughs. “That’s the real reason for bringing her into the family! No one really wants a foreigner unless they’re giving you something in return!”

Your ears burn, your stomach flips, you can’t even hear properly anymore because you're cumming on Din’s cock as soon as you hear your Fiancé say that he’s taking advantage of you for your kingdom. He never loved you, he never thought you were perfect. It was a cover for the fact that Mandalore is bringing war to your home Kingdom. You think Din’s cumming in you, too, but you can’t even notice because your knees buckle and you’re dizzy and you want to march out there and smack him across the face.

You hate him.

Luckily, by the time you and Din carefully and quietly put yourselves back together and catch your breath, the men are leaving the room, off to shoot something probably. The two of you only had to sit on the floor and wait for them to leave for a handful of minutes. You don’t open the closet door right away, just to be extra safe, but you were absolutely fuming.

“Who does he think he is?!” You ask as you push the door open. “I mean, I should have seen it, I’m so stupid for not seeing it.” You rub your temple, your thoughts running a mile a minute. “How could I be so naive, of course he’s taking advantage of us like that.” You begin subconsciously pacing. You can’t even focus on anything else, you have tunnel vision.

“Hey, Hey-“ Din speaks up but you’re rambling again, not letting him get a word in.

“Corellia is going to fall, we aren’t strong enough for war, our ports are frozen over most of the year… when they realize it’s useless they’ll destroy it.” Your heart could burst out of your chest right now.

“Princess-“ He tries calling your name, but it’s futile.

“I hate him. I hate this place. I hate being a pawn in their scheme-“

Din shouts your name before you can continue anymore. You’ve never heard him raise his voice like that before, it filled the room, pushed through the helmet as if it weren’t there, it startled you, finally shutting you up. You stare at him with blown-wide eyes, heart pacing. You were afraid he was mad at you.

Din walks up to you, grabbing your hands, his gloves still off. His thumbs are rubbing small circles against your soft skin and his grip is so steady. “Breathe.” He gently reminds you, sensing that he startled you more than he intended to. You try taking a deep breath, but tears start to well in your eyes and you don’t want to cry in front of him, you don’t want him to think you’re weak. You swallow the lump in your throat, you’re overwhelmed. Din realizes you aren’t calming down, and he pulls your body against his chest. He hugs you so tight you feel like the air squeezes out of your angry lungs but it’s replaced with fresh air, reminding you it’s okay.

You cry into his shoulder. You never thought you could find metal to be so comforting. You pull yourself together very soon, it helps that he’s running his hands through your hair, his breathing acts as a metronome for where your gasps for air should be. When you’re ready, you look up at him, eyes only a little red. He wipes a tear off your cheek, cupping your jaw with his hand after.

“Corellia will not fall. Not if he isn’t married to It’s Heir.” He reassures, his cadence comforting and steady. You take a deep breath, he was right.

“You’re right… I just can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“You weren’t supposed to, they’ve been feeding you fantasies to distract you from it.”

“And I’ve been devouring them.” You admit, “But no orchestrated fantasy is quite like this one. The one here, with you.”

Din is still, and you aren’t expecting a response because he doesn’t usually give you one, but he speaks up, “I should have told you.”

“What? You knew?” You somehow feel worse now. You hope it didn’t show too much in your face.

“Yes. But I spoke out against it openly, and I am so, so sorry I kept it from you for this long.”

Your lips are pressed together, unsure of how to respond. Your eyes wander as you think, Din can practically see the wheels turning in your head.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask, trying not to blow up on him.

He sighs, “I wasn’t expecting to fall for you.”

Your stomach flips, butterflies fly out of your ears, “You promise?”

“I promise. I’ve kept my promises to you haven’t I? I promised to protect you no matter what, your first day here. Have I failed in my duty?” He asks, you look up dreamily at him.

“Never, you’ve done more than keep your promise.” You smile. “Din…” You begin, nervous to ask this question again, but if you were running away with him in two days, you needed to know, “When can you show me your face?” You rearranged the words, putting it in his hands. Rather than asking when you got to see, you wanted to know when he would show.

Din clears his throat, he’s in thought, you know how he is, “The morning before we leave. I’ll show you, I’ll wake up by your side in the daylight and you can look, okay?”

You smile, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

—

Korkie downs another shot of Alderaanian vodka before following his friends out of the door of the sitting room. They were off to shoot pheasants for the afternoon, and he intended to join them. He laughs, setting the glass down a table near the door. Before he turns to leave, however, his eye catches something.

On the small table, next to his empty glass, was a pair of leather, Knight’s gloves. He raises a curious eyebrow, picks them up, examines them, and turns to look around the room. Everything looks as it should, there are no guards stationed here currently, and besides these are the gloves of a high Knight, one close to the royal family.

Korkie pockets the gloves, and exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

—

You almost didn’t want to close the door, blushing as you entered your room, saying goodbye to him for the time being. You both agreed that it would be best if you were seen apart from each other a few more times. But you hated saying goodbye, even if it was just for a few hours.

You were expecting no visitors (brides-to-be are supposed to get plenty of rest before their wedding) and sat in your room, looking at your reflection in the vanity. You looked tired… you were after earlier. You take a deep breath, thinking about the boy on the other side of your door. The palace felt different now that you knew you were leaving. All of the wedding plans seem futile, and it’s a little fun to know that you’re going to do something bold. It’s terrifying, too. You know that if you get caught, you’ll be sentenced to a life of rape to an unloving King, and Din will be publicly executed. It was risky, all of it was, but there was nothing you wanted to do more than live your life with him.

You keep fantasizing about his face, now that you know when you’ll get to see it, you can hardly wait.

After a substantial time of picturing this face in your imagination, you carefully open up the jewelry box on the table, it’s gold, and was a gift from the Prime Minister when you first arrived. Inside stored all of the jewelry you currently have: Some small diamond earrings, others emerald brooches. You picked up a necklace, the necklace Korkie gave you when he proposed. The blue stone inside was beautiful, you wouldn’t deny that, but what the necklace symbolized was disgusting to you. You looked around your room to find something sharp, you settled on a long hairpin, one you never used. You hold the necklace in one hand and the sharp hairpin in the other. You bring the jewelry up close to your face, and take a deep breath before carefully pressing the tip of the pin in between the gold setting and the blue diamond. You put pressure on it, watchfully lifting up the stone just enough that you can fit more of the pin underneath, pushing up until the diamond pops out. It was so satisfying that you almost didn’t catch the precious stone before it fell on the ground.

You hold it up to the light, examining your reflection in it before setting it back down on the table, and repeating the process with various other pieces of jewelry. You eventually have a small pile of jewels, some rubies, some moonstones, an opal or two, and enough diamonds to arrange a beautiful tiara. You smile at your handy work, and then stand back up to dig through another drawer across the room for a needle and thread. You also grab the dress you intended to wear for the escape. It was a practical tan with blue accents, you didn’t want to use purple or red because those dyes were too expensive for a believable fugitive. The dress had long sleeves, and although it was the middle of summer, you knew this would be more practical. It would protect you better from the world. It was also your most simple gown here, and you would still need to make some alterations so it wouldn’t look like it came out of a literal princess’ wardrobe.

You return to your perch in front of the vanity, using a pair of crane scissors to rip open a small opening on the bodice in between the inner-lining and the outer-fabric. You then spend the better-half of the afternoon wrapping thread around each stone in thick bundles of fiber and then sewing those knots into the fabric. You weren’t the best sewer, it’s not a skill you ever really needed to know, but it was something you enjoyed doing nonetheless.

It took several hours to complete, and as you carefully worked the stones into the length of the bodice you lost track of time. Din had patiently waited outside this entire time, partially waiting for you to invite him in at one point, but you become lost in your thoughts, working hard on the dress. Soon golden-hour filled your room, and you didn’t even notice that the sun began to set. You sewed the bodice back up, feeling around for the lumps of stone and finding that you had done a good job placing them throughout where your corset would be. These would also act almost as a layer of armor, protecting you as if anything horrible were to happen. The thought of that made you shudder, but it was the reality of the situation. You would have to admit to yourself that everything was going to change very soon…

It was dusk when you started ripping out some of the embroidery on the dress, trying to make it look less attractive. You pricked your fingers a handful of times during this project, similar to this morning, but you still didn’t care. You eventually fell asleep at the desk, the dress bunched up in your lap. You were quite exhausted still after last night, and you couldn’t help but doze off at your station. You dreamed of far-off lands, the deserts, the forests that await your presence.

You dreamed of Din, you dreamed of his curly, brown hair and golden skin. You dreamed of how his rough, calloused fingers feel against your skin. You dream of his laugh, his low, gruff chuckle that he shares with you and only you. You dream of when you kissed him in front of the entire castle staff. You dream of how his bottom lip feels in between yours, and how his peach-fuzz tickles your face. You dream about when he tickles your back at night, scratching your shoulder-blades and rubbing your upper-arms. How he holds you against his bare chest after licking between your legs for hours. How his broad shoulders relax around you, how he’s a father who loves his son, how he knows the stars like the back of his hands… how he’s the rightful ruler of Mandalore.

Din is who you wake up to, his strong arms picking you up and holding you to his cold, beskar chest. He picks you up bridal style, he does it as if you weigh nothing, fitting like a puzzle-piece in his arms, and you’re still groggy with sleep but your eyes look up. It’s dark, and the sleep in your eyes keeps things blurry but you think you can outline the shape of his face. His prominent nose, his strong jaw, you aren’t sure if it was a dream or not because it all happened on that plane between consciousness and the best sleep you’ve ever had. You can’t remember it very much, but you think you remember his brown eyes.

Din places you on the bed, pulling your dress over your head so you’re left in your silk undergarments. He’s so gentle and careful not to hurt you or wake you up. He takes the pins out of your hair, and slips off your flats. Din picks you up and places you under your covers and you were expecting him to fuck the shit out of you again but he doesn’t. He pulls the down-cover up to your shoulders and kisses your forehead. You shift in your position, getting comfortable as you hear the sound of beskar clanking to the ground and a door locking. Din slides under the covers with you, his shirt missing and body so warm. He pulls you close to his chest and kisses your ear. You sigh into his touch, melting into his smell and the sound of his heart-beating against your back. You’re back into a deep sleep in no time after that.

—

Two days before the wedding

Din is gone before you wake up, and you blush as you remember that he won’t be tomorrow morning. Before Soniee can really get you ready for the day, there’s a heavy knock on your door. She goes to answer it, you’re still in your robe, hair tied back. Your maid opens it to the last person you wanted to see: Korkie.

“Your Highness.” You begrudgingly curtsy. He nods in response, but no ‘hello’ or title in return. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.” You try peeking over his shoulder to see if Din is there, but you couldn’t quite tell.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” He looks around the room. You side-eye the dress on your vanity, the dress with some of Mandalore’s most precious jewels sewn into it. You silently prayed to the stars that he didn’t notice. “Would you join me for breakfast?”

You swallow, he always had some ulterior motive, and your throat burned at the sight of him. He was a manipulator, you wanted nothing to do with him. “I’ll meet in an hour?” You suggest, making a point to not necessarily accept his invitation.

“No… I think we’d better have it now.” He holds his hands behind his back. You look at him, trying to read what he was doing here, but you couldn't.

“Oh…shall I change first?”

“No, that’s not necessary.” The air is heavy, you both know something is up, but you aren’t sure what it is. Korkie snaps and three butlers come in with food, setting them down on the table by your door, pushing aside the flowers Ahsoka sent you last week. “We marry in…three days, is it?”

“Two.” You correct him. How could he not even know that?

“Yes. Two days. I trust you are being taken care of.” He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, his eyes are examining the paintings on the ceilings.

“One might say so.” You think of Din. He’s shown you more unconditional and pure love than anyone in your entire life (and less pure love).

“Lovely. I would want nothing less for my radiant bride.” He sounds insincere, you knew he was after what you heard yesterday. You noticed the butlers haven’t left, Soniee just stands in the corner, her head bowed. “Now, I don’t know how much you know about the wedding night.” Korkie implied.

“More than you would expect.” You harmlessly reply, but it was true. More than he will ever know.

“Great! So you know how important my future Queen’s chastity is.” He looks right at you as he says this. Your knees threaten to buckle but you keep it together. Did he know? What sick game was he playing here? You raise an eyebrow and nod just for the sake of getting whatever he had to say next over with. “Zabe!” Korkie calls and the door opens. A fourth man comes in, he’s tall, his black hair slicked back into a tight bun, his brow furrowed. “My friend and religious advisor will perform a virginity test on you.”

“I’m sorry what?” You say, shocked. “No he won’t.” You take a step back, feeling very unsafe in this room.

“Oh yes he will.” Korkie’s eyes darken. It’s like he freezes you in place. “You have nothing to hide! It’s just tradition.” If you were stupid you would think he was trying to comfort you, but the cadence of his tone says otherwise. He knew something was up, and so did you. He wouldn’t be pushing for it if he really thought you were still a virgin. You’re exposed, and you don’t have Din to protect you this time. You remember what he told you a while back: you’re smart. You scan the room.

You clear your throat before struggling to speak up again, “How will this test be done, exactly?” You knew you had to be very careful with your words here. The tall man slips two fingers into his mouth and pulls them out. You feel weak, and actually swallow down some bile.

You did not want this.

“I… don’t feel comfortable with this.” You reiterate. Looking at Soniee, begging for help.

“Get out, maid.” Korkie says and Soniee nods, exiting to the bathroom. You really are alone now.

“Please, Korkie-“

“Why not? It’s fast and painless-“

“I doubt that.” You interrupt Korkie. “If it was painless, there would be no blood.” You nod.

“No. If my future Bride is a slut, then there will be no blood.” Korkie seethes. You hate him. How dare he put you in this position. You tried to control your breathing and not deck him across the face in a difficult attempt to calm your heart rate. Why couldn’t they have done this when you first arrived. Before you let your guard fuck your brains out every night?

You were terrified. You didn’t want to do this and you especially didn’t want a complete stranger to perform it. Besides, you know that there will not be a result that Korkie is happy with. Why didn’t you think of this? You should have expected him to do something like this. But then again, he probably wouldn’t be pushing for it unless he was genuinely curious. If this was an actual tradition, you would have read about it in the countless books you read in your first week, or Koska would have warned you.

“Come on, Princess, I haven’t all day.” Korkie presses.

“I’m sorry I just… I need a moment. I-I’m scared.” You were horrified, and you knew that if you said something, you could sell your virginity better. “May I?” You gesture to the table of food. Korkie rolls his eyes but steps away. You examine the plates of food. Cherries. Big, red, juicy cherries. These should work.

Please work.

You grab a handful, hiding them in your fist and then popping a grave into your mouth before turning around.

“On the bed?” You swallow. The man nods and you walk over there. You stare down at your sheets, the sheets you spent the night with the man you loved. Where was he now? “May I lift my own garments?” You ask, not even turning to look.

“Fine, I don’t care, just hurry up.” You take a shaky breath and reach your fist under your skirt, you find your opening, it was a little sore from Din, but now was not the time to remember that.

You try to do it quickly so as not to look suspicious, secretly wishing Din would come into the room right now and save you, take you far, far away from this place. Your fist finds your opening, and you mush a cherry or two up as far as they go. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, trying not to cry. When you think you have them high enough, you turn around, sitting on the bed, legs spread and body tensing and tears welling.

THIS IS THE START OF THE SEXUAL HARASSMENT SCENE, PLEASE SKIP TO NEXT CHAPTER BREAK IF NEEDED

The man walks up to you, you don’t look at him, instead staring blankly at the canopy above your bed. His hands are bigger than Din’s, too big, and he doesn’t take his time before painfully slowly pushing a finger up into you. It’s dry and it hurts and you feel violated.

“Please work, please work, please work, please work.” You think to the cherries. This couldn't be healthy.

Your body knew something unnatural and new was happening to it as every muscle tenses up, and you try not to jolt back.

You do cry. One silent, heartbroken tear rolling down your cheek.

The worst part is that you knew Korkie was enjoying this.

He keeps it up there much longer than he should have, and you cuss to your body not to relax or welcome in the invasive object. But, when he pulls his finger out, it’s covered in a gloss of dark red. It didn’t necessarily look like blood, but everyone knew that his finger went in dry, and came out red.

“Thank you.” You think again to the cherry. He turns around to show the prince and Korkie looks surprised. You wanted to feel victorious, but your body begged you to give out.

“Lovely.” Korkie nods, clearly expecting a different outcome. The man wipes it on a rag. [The next order of events are a blur to you. They all happen so fast and you don’t have any time to think. You don’t remember much before you realize you’re being pushed back onto the bed. You remember screaming and then a hand is wrapped around your mouth tightly, too tightly. Two fingers pinch your nose and you’re struggling to breathe and things are getting blurry and you hear male laughter and the sound of Korkie stripping, you’re fighting against it but the butlers who you are now realizing were never butlers are holding you down and ripping off your robe and gown and you’re crying and thrashing but you pass out before you can kick them away.]

THIS IS THE END OF THE SEXUAL HARASSMENT SCENE

You wake up several hours later, completely naked, alone, and bruised everywhere.

You crumple.

Sliding to the floor, isolated, violated and alone. You try not to cry but the tears just come. They pour out of you, and they’re not sobs, but instead the silent tears that taunt you with their subtlety. They roll down your face and you feel nothing. You feel numb. You can’t close your legs completely because your pelvis is so sore and everything hurts but nothing hurts more than your spirit. You bring your hands up to your chest, one stained red. Your head falls to your chest, and you gasp for air.

How could he? How could someone be so vile?

A soft knock on your door comes an hour later and you’re too numb to stand up and try to cover yourself and so you just sit there pathetically. Thank the stars when a familiar suit of beskar armor enters.

He curses, slamming the door behind him and running to you. As soon as he’s by your side, the silent tears turn into heart-wrenching sobs and gasps for air that prevent your lungs from ever filling and your head is pounding from everything. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, sobbing painfully. Your cries are heard outside.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, his arms wrapping around your waist, the door closes and you start to cry again. Why did you have to be so weak? “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I broke our promise and I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispers your name, his hands running through your matted hair.

“Why?” You ask. “Why did he-“

“He’s a monster.” Din says. He just holds you like that for so long, longer than you expected. He held you until you gathered your breathing and slowed your heart rate and your tears finally subsided. You stay pressed to his chest while you break down and he lets you take your time to build yourself back up again.

When you do start breathing semi-normal again (aside from a few sighs here and there) Din helps you stand up before carrying you to the lavatory. He draws you a bath, hot, steamy water pouring from the kitchen into the tub. He helps you into it, taking off most layers in the process until all was left is his typical under-clothes and that blasted helmet.

He’s forgiving as he cleans you up, running the sponge over your bruises, both the ones of passion left from him and the ones left from malice by the other. There was no way he didn’t know about the two of you now, but neither of you cared. All that mattered now was taking care of you. He rubbed herbs into your skin and soaps and oils and helped you wash your hair and you had to painfully tell him not to press too hard on that muscle or that bruise or that thigh.

He cleaned up your face, and dried your incessant tears before helping you out of the bath. He dries you, and you braid your hair back before you leave together into the room to gather some garments for you. You walk into the bedroom and Din is helping you into the silk clothes. He never left your side once, a hand on your lower back or laced in your fingers.

He holds you again when you start to cry again. You stay there and he doesn’t talk for a long time but when he owes, “How did you fool him before he…”

“It’s terrible, you don’t want to know.” You shake your head, mortified.

“But I do.”

“But it’s gross, you’ll think I’m disgusting.” You sniffle. Din goes silent and painfully still. You look at him, waiting for his response. He cups your face with either hand, gloves already off and skin warm to your tear-stained cheeks.

“I could never think that. I want to know because I care about you, and I need to make sure you aren’t hurt.” You look at him after he says this, and before you can respond, you’re a blubbering mess all over again.

“But I am hurt.” You cry out again.

“Shit, I am so sorry.” He holds you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry to keep crying like this I just-“ You try to pull yourself together but you can’t seem to do it. It was traumatizing to be taken advantage of like that in front of strangers and a man you’re supposed to love. Din guides you to the bed, and sits you down. He kneels in front of you, holding either of your hands in his.

“Don’t ever apologize for being vulnerable with me…some wish they could be as open.” He reassures. You know exactly who he’s talking about. You look down at him with red eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Be open with me.” You whisper, grabbing his hand and then holding it up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. “What do you want to tell me?” Your tears finally slowed until stopping altogether.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Please. I need to get out of my own head.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sometimes… sometimes I’m upset that I can’t fall in love.

“It used to keep me up at night, I would wonder what I was missing out on. But you see, I was raised not to… not to feel emotion. ‘Emotion is a distraction, it’s a weakness’. So when I met Maris, I didn’t understand what I was experiencing. It wasn’t so much love as it was lust for one another, and it was all fun and games until she got pregnant, and then all of a sudden, there was something more important to me in this life than bounties.”

“Rue.” You swallow.

“Rue.” He confirms. “I would do anything for him, from the moment I knew he existed in Maris every day I lived for him, and in return that made me fall in love with Maris, too.” You had never heard of Maris before. You didn’t need any more context. “But then, she had Rue and the Sun stopped being a star and the sky and my world revolved around this little boy who looked just like me, but Maris didn’t really stick around.” You squeeze his hand tighter, urging him to go on. His voice was shaky, he was nervous, you could tell, you wanted him to feel safe, just as he made you feel. “She said I was spending too much time on the job and after one close call, she was gone in an instant, taking Rue with her. This made me… hate her. It made me cry and yell and hurt and it made me feel emotions that I didn't even know existed. Not only had I taken a chance on loving her, but I also got the most important thing in the world to me in return.

“Maris was robbed, raped and murdered in Keldabe, two months after she left. I couldn’t help but blame myself. Peli is the one who found eleven-month-old Rue, and after I almost lost myself looking for them, I came across my son, a blood-thirsty queen, and a chase that would happen for several years after.” You thought you could hear him crying, but you weren’t sure. “I ended up here, in this place, cold and bitter and hateful to the world. The only thing that brought me any joy anymore was Rue, and now I could rarely see him. I was a prisoner to the crown,yes, but even worse: I was a prisoner to my own mind.

“They said if I gathered information about you and Corellia as your knight, they would let me off of probation sooner, and I would be banished to Coruscant, but I would have Rue, and I would be out of Mandalore, which is all I wanted. So I took the job.

“But you showed me on the first night that you were worth more than me spying on you. You were kind, and patient, and spent your first week here trying to learn our customs so you would fit in even though not a single person had been kind to you. You had the brightest smile… and the prettiest hair… and the softest skin…” You smile wide, tears welling in your eyes again.

“I am… a mess, I have a messy past and a dirty history and I have no idea where my future is headed. I don’t even own a comb because I don’t need to brush my hair. I’ve killed people, I’ve hunted people, I’ve done horrible things in my past and you never thought of me any less when you found out. You never treated me any different. I guess I never expected someone as perfect as a Princess would be willing to listen to my story, and yet you always asked me about my day, you asked me my name, you asked me about… me.

“And then I realized I knew nothing about myself.” He chuckles and so do you before he continues on.

“But I learned through you. I learned that I love to dance,” You laugh, remembering your terrible waltz practices fondly, “I learned that I love physical touch… I love being held, and holding you. I learned that I prefer the rain, and I like the color gold. I learned that life through a lens doesn’t keep me from making memories. I learned that reading is actually fun, and that I love hearing you read. I learned how to steal a map, and how to keep promises.” You can hear the smile through his words, your heart danced. “I learned that the ocean is beautiful because it’s vast, not terrifying. I learned that royals can be good, and that I can understand them sometimes. I learned that kindness is unconditional, and all kinds and classes of people deserve selflessness and charity.

“But above all else, I learned how to fall in love.”

You wish you weren’t crying, but you loved him so much.

“So yeah, I used to be upset that I couldn’t fall in love, until I learned that I can fall in love, it just has to be with the right person. And tomorrow, I’m gonna take you away from here, and I’m gonna show you the world. It’s gonna be scary and hard and you may regret it sometimes, but I will never regret showing you the life you deserve, because, because I love you.”

You drop his hand and put your hands in your face, crying, but he very gently pulls them down, and when you look up, you see him.

You see his face.

You see his brown, brown eyes. They’re beautiful, deep and layered and begging you to say you love him back. You see his short eyelashes, how they’re dewed from his tears. He has smile lines on the corner of his eyes, and his eyebrows are uneven and messy and the same dark brown of his hair.

His hair that is curly and dusky and a few curls fall on top of his forehead and threaten to fall into his eyes and they’re unkempt and perfect. He has several stress lines in his forehead but two very prominent ones in between his eyebrows and you can’t help but think about how expressive he really is under all that beskar.

His nose is angled and hooked and the most prominent feature on his perfect face. It’s big but not too big, it balanced his features and it fit his face and personality perfectly.

He has the poutiest lips, begging to be kissed. They’re soft and hidden under his cute, tawney, mustache. They quiver as your eyes read all of his features: his strong chin, the peach fuzz growing, where his cheekbones sat, the angle and shape of his jawline.

Din Djarin is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from lifting your hand and tracing the shapes of his face. You had traced them a hundred times before, but it was so much better now. Your thumb runs along his bottom lip and then down to the shape of his chin. You cup his jaw and then lift your hands to his eyes, wiping a tear on one side, running your fingertips along his golden skin. You learn forward and rest your forehead against his, breathing him in with your eyes open, finally.

He’s holding his breath and you quietly ask him to breathe. He shakily fills his lungs and you rub the tip of your nose against his. You pull away one more time to look at him, noticing every line, every hair, every way his eyes look up at you in fear.

You cup his face again, and you smile wide, wider and bigger and happier than you had ever smiled before, ever. Your cheeks hurt from how wide you're smiling at him that you can hardly see out of your eyelashes but he smiles back.

And oh, stars, his smile.

He lightens up, and even more smile lines that were hidden show up. His teeth are perfectly straight, and his lips stretch to show his relief. His cheeks grow rosy and his eyes look down and he lets out a soft chuckle. You lift his fiance up again so his eyes are looking at you and you can just stare into them for a while.

Both of you are so still, so quiet.

You lean in, and kiss him. Never before was there a more gentle, perfect kiss in the history of the world. The kiss you shared was more intimate than any sexual activity you had ever performed, it wasn’t hungry, but it wasn’t still. It danced along your lips and your thumbs held his cheeks there and he kissed you like you were melting honey that was overflowing out of a thick honeycomb that had just been harvested from the hive and was golden and sweet and searched by all Pharohs. You kiss him like the snowmelt in the mountains, like the warm sun shining on the freezing ground and telling it “It’s spring now” and the water is rushing down the valleys and into rushing rivers and eventually to the vast, beautiful ocean.

You pull apart, and just look at each other. You just stare at him, and you don’t need to do anything else because he was so much. better than what you imagined. He was beautiful and soft and strong and handsome at the same time. Din had a perfect mix of built and gentle, like he was chiseled out of marble by Naboolian artist. You didn’t even care that his hair was messy.

“What do you think?” He asks, his voice soft.

“You are…wow.” You chuckle, “I’m sorry I don’t know how to explain it I just-“ He kisses you before you can finish your sentence, this kiss is shorter but just as sweet. You look down at him, heart full, “I love you, too.”

—

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Text

windblume confession(s)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: (@illusory-torrent) can i ask the meaning behind your url?? just curious. and could i also please request some kaeya and albedo getting competitive over the reader? reader can be gender neutral, i just wanna see my two best bois being competitive haha. thank you!

pairings: albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader (love triangle)

warnings: none! (1.5k words)

a/n: soooo the meaning behind my url - it’s not that special lol. i wanted to make a genshin pun (klee = bee) and this is the first thing i came up with. also bea/bee, bumblebea/bumblebee, yktv

During the Windblume Festival, bouquets of flowers and letters were spilling off of your desk everyday. Despite knowing that most of the gifts came from anonymous senders, your heart still skipped a beat.

Part of you wondered if any of them were a prank. You didn’t see yourself as anything special, you weren’t as feminine and pretty as Barbara or muscular like Wagner, yet quite a few patrons found you good enough to pine over.

You skimmed through the gifts one day to see if you recognized any of the names. There was a letter from Bennett that was clearly addressed to Fischl so you tucked away the special note in a drawer with promises to deliver it later. You also found a letter from one of the Knight’s on your squad - but he was much younger than you and, frankly, the letter sounded like puppy love. Two contrasting bouquets of flowers sat side-by-side on the edge of your desk so you reached for them.

The first bouquet was about a dozen calla lilies tied together with a blue ribbon and the second was cecilia’s in a glass vase. The flowers piqued your interest, your mind already forming an idea about where they came from, and you read the attached cards.

“Meet me in the library,” You read aloud, your fingers tracing the edges of the cardstock. It wasn’t signed by anyone. The second one has a similar message, “Find me in the library.”

You wondered if the flowers were sent by the same person. But then why wouldn’t they state that? The questions made you wonder, again, if this was a trap. Could the flowers be from someone who wanted to mess with you? But despite your doubts, you grabbed your things and headed down the stairs to the library.

When you pushed open the door to the library, you realized you had no idea who or what you were looking for. The library was decorated beautifully, ribbon and flowers displayed on tables or breaks between the bookcases. The room itself smelled fresh, too, unlike its usual dusty aroma. While you glanced around the library, you saw Lisa sitting behind her desk and went to see if she knew what was going on.

“Happy Windblume Festival,” You smiled warmly at your coworker, “You’re not going to believe what I received.”

Lisa stopped reading her book to look up at you, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “Hello, there. So many love-birds flew into your office this morning, I can only imagine what they brought you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Too many unrequited confessions.” She laughed softly at your joke, “Besides that, I received two bouquets of flowers that both told me to meet them here. Isn’t that strange?”

Lisa covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled again, “I think there’s something downstairs who would love to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lisa but thanked her and took off down the stairs, careful not to slip on the wooden steps. As soon as your foot touched the floor, your sight met two men who had stopped bickering less than a moment ago. Kaeya and Albedo stood in front of a table, trying to put themselves back together in your presence.

“What’s going on?” You asked, realizing they were probably waiting for you. “Were the flowers from both of you?”

Kaeya and Albedo looked between each other, seemingly glaring dangers at each other. “I don’t know why he’s here,” Kaeya sneered, motioning to Albedo.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re here,” Albedo parroted, crossing his arms. You had never heard either of the men sound as ticked off as they were now.

“You both told me to meet you in the library,” You explained, confused. “That wasn’t planned?”

“No!” They said in unison.

You rubbed your temples, knowing that this wasn’t going to end easily. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “But can someone explain what’s going on.”

“Mr. Alberich overheard me planning to surprise you during the Windblume Festival and decided to ruin my plans,” Albedo said. When he spoke Kaeya’s name, there was nothing but venom in his tone.

Kaeya shrugged sarcastically, “I had no prior knowledge.”

“You used Klee to eavesdrop.”

“Did I, now?”

Albedo ran a hand through his hair, aggravated and annoyed. He had never liked Kaeya and this only fueled that fire. Kaeya wasn’t fond of Albedo either. He thought he was overrated in Mondstadt and that his admirers could do better.

“I mean,” Kaeya continued, giving Albedo the side eye, “Was it supposed to be a secret? You were awfully careless with the news.”

“My deepest apologies, I wasn’t aware I needed to broadcast my confession to all of Mondstadt before telling Y/N.”

“Your confession?” You wondered, “So the flowers weren’t a joke?”

Albedo looked at you with curious, and confused, eyes. “A joke? Of course not,” He said. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, something you had never seen before, and Albedo fiddled with his gloved fingers nervously.

“I wanted to do that first,” Kaeya interjected, frowning slightly.

Kaeya’s words caught you off guard as well. “You like me, too?” He nodded in response and the three of you stood still for a while. Your mind was racing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t believe not one but two of your coworkers had a crush on you and were confessing to you. But then the nerve-wracking decision came crashing down on you.

You had to pick one of them, right? The whole point of confessions was to find a possible suitor and here you had two options in front of you. Of course, you could reject both of them and run away but was that how you truly felt?

Albedo was soft and genuine. He often painted portraits of you and took you up to Dragonspine so could have snowball fights with Klee. He paid for dinner for you and recommended new books for you to read during your days off. At that moment, they seemed like friendly gestures. But looking back, you realized they were probably acts to one up Kaeya.

Likewise, Kaeya had his own plans to win you over. He spent exciting nights with you at the tavern and never complained about taking you home when you drank too much. Instead of buying you food, Kaeya bought you gifts like jewelry or artifacts. He often accompanied you on commissions, too.

“I need time to think this over,” You finally said. “Please, just agree not to kill each other in the meantime.”

Kaeya grumbled something under his breath, “Fine.”

“Why do you like me?” You asked, looking at Kaeya. “If you’re going to confess, then confess fully.”

The taller man thought for a moment before sending you his classic, cheeky grin. “I like having a challenge and you, my dear, proved to be that challenge.”

“What?” You asked, slightly offended.

“You play hard to get,” Kaeya continued, using his hands to accentuate his words, “I spoiled you for months and you still acted like we were nothing more than friends. Do friends buy each other gold necklaces in hopes they’ll realize you’ve fallen for them? You even have the necklace on to this day.” Instinctively, your fingers coiled around the dainty necklace around your neck that Kaeya had gifted to you weeks ago. When he gave it to you, you recognized it was a peculiar gift but played it off as Kaeya being extravagant. He sharpened his eyes, “Need I mention you’re the most exquisite looking person in Teyvat?”

Your voice caught in your throat and your cheeks burned with the compliment. You nervously played with the hem of your shirt and looked at Albedo for his answer.

“I just think you’re different,” He said simply, “You’re easy to get along with and I enjoy spending time with you. I feel like we’re compatible puzzle pieces.”

If possible, you blushed harder. Both men were darling and you felt like the luckiest person alive by being adored by both of them. As you glanced between the men, your stomach did a backflip. They were both looking at you with such intent and charisma, as if trying to enchant you. The idea of being with either of them made you feel butterflies.

But they are so drastically different, which made the decision that much harder. If you choose Kaeya, your relationship would be fiery and brand new all the time. He was full of adventure and flirting, favoring nightlife and excitement. And with Albedo, it would be calm and joyous. Your days would be spent in flower fields and underneath trees. Both sounded like a dream to you.

“I don’t know who to pick,” You admitted, holding back a sigh of defeat. “I never thought multiple people would like me at once, let alone you two. I just need more time.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked back up the stairs. Your head felt light and your mind was clouded with a million different scenarios. You felt guilty for leaving the men alone but until you could come up with a definite answer, they could wait.

#genshin x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin writing #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader #albedo x gn reader #kaeya x gn reader #genshin love triangle #i love how this came out #butterfly divider is by hinaolgy #genshin impact x reader #genshin kaeya

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

The Island | KTH (Nine)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum eating, choking.

Notes: Sorry it’s late! But here is chapter 9! Next chapter things start to get interesting again hehe. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

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“Kim Taehyung, huh?” Ellie circles around the man like a god damn vulture. She inspects him carefully, her eyes raking his body over and over. “Yeah.” She stops, looks him up and down one more time and nods her head approvingly. “He’s hot as fuck.”

“Ellie…” you whine, “Can you please at least try to act normal?”

Ellie brings her cigarette to her lips, inhaling the poison before blowing it out. “Nah.”

Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes, his amused smile growing wide and taking over his face. His eyes then meet your sisters and he bows his head slightly and smirks to himself.

“Nice to meet you Ellie.” He gets out before you can say anything else.

“Mom’s going to hate this, you know?” Ellie takes another drag of her cigarette, “Going to Korea for 3 weeks? Taking a leave of absence from work? Dude going to another fucking country, girl you are crazy.” Ellie laughs, but she approves.

“Why do I even have to tell her?” you can’t help but pout. You admit your mother can be…something else.

“Are you serious y/n?” Ellie looks at you with pinched brows, “You went missing for 8 months and now you want to disappear for another 3 weeks? Without her knowing? Are you trying to kill her?”

“I guess you have a point—”

“—I’m meeting your parents, y/n.” Taehyung cuts in, walking closer to your side. You three are standing outside your apartment building where you two met Ellie. It’s the morning of Taehyung’s flight but he is missing it.

“You are what now?” you ask totally off guard.

“Ellie can you set up a time and place for us to meet them? I’m afraid y/n will try to make an excuse.” He sighs out, “Please.”

Ellie raises a brow, impressed at how straight forward Taehyung seems to be. She pulls out her phone and dials for your dad.

“Taehyung…” you look over at him and he only stares at you with hard eyes. He’s mad at you. As he should be, you think.

“I want to meet them, I think it is… important.” He breathes out, “Don’t you?”

You nibble on your lips as you think, you even mumble some nonsense Taehyung can’t understand before you finally nod your head.

“Okay.” You agree shyly, “If you want to.”

“You realize you will be meeting my parents too, right?” Taehyung walks closer to you, “And all of my friends.”

“What? Even Hana?” You snap, “Joy.”

“y/n…” Taehyung warns in a low voice. “Don’t be that way.”

“Don’t be that way?” You whisper shout, trying to keep your voice somewhat down so Ellie can’t hear you as well as she has her phone to her ear.

“Don’t be that way? You fucked another girl, Taehyung.”

“Is that fair, y/n? You had no intention of ever talking to me again.” Taehyung bites, “You are being so fucking unfair.” His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to calm down. “Fuck.”

Your eyes look up and you scan the sky. It’s cloudy today, almost looks like it could rain but it probably won’t. It just tricks you into thinking it might, kind of feels like your mood.

“Trouble in paradise already?” Ellie brings the phone down a bit to speak to you two. “Dad isn’t answering, I’ll try mom.” She says, bringing the phone back to her ear.

You huff out a short, frustrated breath as you nod your head towards your sister. You can’t even look at Taehyung right now, you feel betrayed over Hana but also you feel guilty because he is right. You are being so fucking unfair. And also this begs the question…did you have no intention of ever talking to him again?

You push that thought away as you stare at your sister, watching her expectantly as she waits for your mom to answer the phone.

“y/n.” Taehyung finally opens his eyes and gazes down at you, “Follow me.”

“Taehyung, no—”

“Now.” His voice expresses the deepest parts of the sea, the depth so intimidating. Your eyes slide to the side as you release a few shaky breaths. You mumble a weak ‘okay’ and follow him a few feet to the side, walking towards the stairs to your apartment building.

“Let’s try to get along.” He sighs, his hands at his sides until he’s reaching up to drag a hand down his tired face. “For both our sake’s.”

“Are you forcing yourself to be nice to me?” you ask, a bite in your tone and Taehyung looks down at you with his cold, intimidating stare.

“Mostly.” He comments plainly and you feel your heart pinch.

“Why even bother? Why force yourself if you hate me?” You find the courage to look into his eyes and he narrows his at you.

“I don’t hate you. I’m fucking pissed at you.” He begins, “I’m allowed to be hurt and act accordingly.” He breathes out heavily, “Don’t you think?” he challenges you.

“Okay, okay.” You roll your eyes. “I-“

“Don’t get a fucking attitude either, I’m the one who is mad here.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest. “If I were you I would be working on your apologies.”

You feel like a child being scolded and it infuriates you. He is treating you like a god damn kid and you can’t help but feel like you probably deserve it.

“Okay, Taehyung.” You slump your shoulders slightly, “I understand…”

Taehyung’s hand finds itself in your hair, his fingers sliding down to play with the ends.

“Good girl.” He praises with a smug smile.

You are upset but hearing him call you a good girl has your stomach doing flips. You two have barely touched the other since you have seen him, he has kept his distance and you are too nervous to make the first move. Last night he slept on your couch…yeah, he didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed as you. At least he stayed with you though and not that dingy hotel.

You can’t help but feel like the miles your home and his home had you apart feels like nothing compared to the distance between you two now. He says he loves you and wants to make this work but he can barely look at you and it is painfully obvious. He’s hurt, so hurt. He isn’t being shy about how hurt and disappointed he is and it’s hard to swallow.

Taehyung hasn’t made many attempts to be closer to you, in fact, it seems like he is going out of his way to not be close to you. Which only causes you to sink deeper and deeper into your hole of self-pity. Why did he say he wants this to work yet he is acting the way he is?

“I don’t hate you. I’m fucking pissed at you.” He begins, “I’m allowed to be hurt and act accordingly.” He breathes out heavily, “Don’t you think?”

Right. He has every right to be acting the way he is. He is allowed to be hurt and you shouldn’t turn this around to make yourself the victim here, when it’s clear here on who should be upset.

But the thought of Taehyung sleeping with someone who isn’t you makes you fucking furious but also depressed as hell. He couldn’t last 6 months without sticking his dick in someone else?

Then you remember that in his mind you had no intention of ever talking or seeing him again. Truthfully, you don’t know if he is wrong about that. It’s possible you really weren’t ever going to reach out. You’re the worst.

You don’t even know what Taehyung went through while being without you but the empty look in his dark, chocolate eyes tells you it was not pretty. He hasn’t opened up about it but it’s not like you two really have found the time or space to discuss. You have to respect the fact that he wants space, that he wants distance, that he wants to feel his emotions even if they are negative. He’s allowed to feel his emotions, y/n.

“Mom said her and dad can meet us down town at that one restaurant you like y/n…with the pretty drapes.” Ellie walks up to you and Taehyung. “They’ll be here this evening. Mom and dad are excited to meet you Taehyung.”

“Ah, really?” Taehyung asks Ellie while his gaze remains on you. “Me too.”

Ellie looks between you two and awkwardly nods her head. “Okay, I should get going but I will see you guys this evening.”

“Sounds good…” You respond to her, your eyes finally leaving Taehyung’s as you give your attention to you sister. “Send me a text when you are on your way to the restaurant.”

“Will do.” She leans in, hugging you quickly and leaving a kiss on your cheek. “See you two tonight.” She pulls back and faces Taehyung giving him a small wave then she if off to her car leaving you and Taehyung.

“Should we head inside?” you ask quietly, swinging your arms at your sides. “I can make you some pancakes?” you offer shyly and Taehyung frowns. Fucking frowns.

“I kind of ate pancakes almost every day,” He admits, “Oh!” he lights up, “Do you know how to make French toast?”

Your lips curve upward into a small smile, “Yes, Tae. I can make you some French toast, if that’s what you would rather have.”

“Let’s go inside.” He gestures towards the stairs and you follow closely behind him. You two walk down a hall until he is stopped at your front door, you run into his back and stumble back.

“Careful.” He whispers, “Don’t want you falling.” He reaches for the knob and opens the door, walking inside. You follow him, closing the door behind you and taking your shoes off.

“I knew yours would taste even better. You just have a way with breakfast food, did you know that?” Taehyung stuffs his face with another slice of the French toast you whipped up. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him, he looks so invested in this last piece of French toast like he wants to take his time with it so it’ll never end.

“Hey, my cooking elsewhere has improved!” you whine.

“When we get to Korea,” Taehyung begins, his eyes finding yours. “I want to show you some dishes I like and maybe we can learn to cook them together.”

“Mine will never be as good as your moms, let’s get that out there right now.” You laugh and Taehyung nods his head like he agrees with you, you playfully swat his arm across the table.

“But yours can be second best. Even if you aren’t any good, I’ll still eat it.” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

“You’ll eat my bad cooking?”

“Only because I …” Taehyung’s grin gets wiped off his face before he can even finish that sentence. “Because I…love you.” He says more quietly, now avoiding your gaze.

“Right…” you feel your pinching heart want to give up on you, it hurts in your chest.

Taehyung looks at you, he doesn’t really know what to say at this point. He doesn’t know how to act like he wants to. He’s too hurt. But he has to try. Or else he isn’t sure what will come from the two of you.

“I do love you.” He sighs out, “So much.” He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his and he feels himself grow weaker and weaker. “But I do want to take this slow. We have a lot to learn about one another now that we are in reality again. We aren’t in our own bubble like how we were.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and start nibbling nervously. Take it slow how?

“Am I allowed to hug you? Kiss you?” you ask, almost ashamed that you had to ask something like that.

“I’m not feeling all too affectionate…” Taehyung admits softly, “But,” he bites his own lips as he looks down at your hands. “I could take a hug right now.”

You pull your hand away from his and draw it towards your body, you intertwine your fingers together in your lap and sigh out. Your eyes on your hands, your head hanging low.

“Are you sure?” you hear your voice crack and you want to disappear.

“Come here baby.” Taehyung stands from his chair and waits for you expectantly. “Come hug me.” He says, his voice nice and low like a hum.

You slowly rise from your chair and without looking at him you inch closer and closer until he’s pulling you in by the arms.

He hates this almost as much as you do. Maybe even more. He thought he would come here, find you and everything would be light and smooth but instead it has proven to be hard, harder than he imagined.

“Hug me back.” He orders softly, dragging your arms to wrap around his waist. “And hold me tightly.”

You circle your arms around his waist and walk closer until your head is being shoved into his chest. You can smell him like this, his scent filling your nostrils and creating a long, string of memories linked with his scent. Suddenly, you are recalling every moment you spent like this. Every moment you ever inhaled him, every moment you felt his scent linger on your own body.

You feel your chest tightening and your throat burning, you try to speak but you can’t. You’re too lost in the scent of Taehyung, too lost to think, your mind fuzzy and tricking you. It says he wants you, needs you, loves you. And you just don’t know how true that is. You feel your cheeks wet from the few tears that are now slipping out of your eyes, you sniffle into his chest and you feel Taehyung tense beneath you.

“Don’t cry.” He says as soft as he can, “Babe…” he starts rubbing your back, his large hand touching you in a way that makes you start to cry harder.

“y/n.” He then hugs you tighter, pulling you in impossibly close.

“I’m just so…so…sorry…” You choke out, sniffling harder now. Taehyung releases a long breath, closing his eyes as he pulls you in flush against him.

“I know…” he keeps his eyes closed as he thinks on what to say. But he comes up short, he just really doesn’t know what to tell you right now.

“You hate me.” You cry harder into his chest and Taehyung finally shoots his eyes open and begins shaking his head.

“I don’t hate you…” he breathes out, “I told you already. I’m just upset. And it’s going to take some time—”

“How much time?”

“y/n, I don’t know.” He bunches the material of your shirt in his hands as he tries to calm his frustrations. “I’m hurt. You really didn’t…you really were going to never talk to me again…like those 8 months we spent together meant nothing to you.”

“That’s not true.” You sob. “I think eventually—”

“When? 10 years from now? You think I would have waited forever?” he mutters.

“Apparently not. You couldn’t even wait 6 months to get your dick wet.” You pull back from him, your eyes puffy from the tears.

“Really y/n?” He steps back from you, “It didn’t mean anything. I was so fucking broken when that happened.”

“Oh? And her pussy was the glue to put you back?” you snap. You watch as Taehyung grows angry, the scowl on his face almost scaring you.

“You are the most unfair fucking person.” He spits out, “Yeah, I fucked Hana. But we aren’t like that, we’re just friends.”

“I don’t want you to be friends with a girl you’ve fucked!” you admit between bated breathes, “Who says it won’t happen again?”

“Me. I say that.” Taehyung growls, “I have no interest in Hana…I was…I was in a really dark place.” He tries to calm himself, “Really dark place.”

“How dark?” you ask, making him feel interrogated.

“Would go to sleep never wanting to wake up.” He says with a straight face and you feel yourself grow guilty. You did that to him. It’s your fault. How do you make up for that?

“Fuck.” You look down at your feet, “I’m so sorry Tae…”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters to me right now is that you understand I don’t want Hana. I obviously want you. I came all the way here to make this work with you.” He huffs out, his eyes boring holes into the top of your bowing head.

“Tell me you understand or it’s going to be that much more work to make this happen.” Taehyung steps closer to you, reaching for your hand.

“We have a lot to work through y/n. This isn’t the island anymore. This is both of our real lives and we’re intertwining them. At least I want to.” His thumb starts rubbing your skin and you feel yourself grow warm. You finally lift your head and gaze into his dark, dark eyes. He is staring at you with so much intensity that you automatically feel intimidated.

“Tell me you will be patient. Tell me you want this. Fuck, tell me you love me.” Taehyung keeps his deep voice low, but you can hear the frustration throughout his words.

“I love you.” You stumble forward until you are embracing him again. “I love you so much.” You begin to cry again, much more softly this time. “I will do anything to make sure this works Taehyung.”

Taehyung can’t help but smile a little, he places a kiss to the top of your head and he sniffs you. Same shampoo as what you had on the island. He feels his eyes sting a bit, the memories of the island beginning to haunt him.

“Anything?” he whispers and you nod your head frantically.

“Let my mom teach you how to make japchae. Then make it for me.”

“You’ll eat it even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

~~~~~~~

“Very good to meet you, Taehyung.” Your mother drops her hand from his as she eyes him over. “You really spent every day with our y/n? For 8 months? Aren’t you tired of her?” she half jokes.

“I could never.” He replies smoothly. “And it’s also nice meeting you Mr. y/L/n” Taehyung reaches out to shake your dads hand when your father takes it but pulls him in for a tight hug.

“You took care of y/n all that time…” Your dad hugs Taehyung gratefully, taking a moment before he pulls back. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“She took care of me too.” Taehyung smiles as your dad pulls away from him. “Always made me breakfast.” He teases, stealing a glance at you. You are standing here next to him with an awkward smile on your face.

“It wasn’t much…” you say quietly. “Anyway, we should go get our table.”

“I got it!” Ellie comes up to you four, “Let’s go.”

You all follow Ellie to a table for 6. You guys occupy 5 of those spots, your mother uses the extra chair for her purse. The server sets down your menus and takes out his little notepad to take down your drink orders.

A sweet tea for your mother, a coke for your father, waters for both you and Taehyung and a vodka sprite for your sister. You give her a look of amusement before you stop your server from leaving and ordering your own spiked drink.

“Careful girls.” Your mother warns. “There’s no need to get drunk.”

“Oh its one drink mother.” You sister scoffs. “Plus I think y/n could use it.”

“And why is that?” Your dad suddenly becomes interested in your conversation. “Is everything okay? How is work going? Are you making friends?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” You wave him off, “It’s just…this dinner serves two purposes.” You admit, your eyes darting all across the room.

“Which are?” your mom narrows her eyes at you. “I know one is to meet your little boyfriend. But what’s the other?”

Boyfriend? Is Taehyung your boyfriend? You guys haven’t discussed it. You only said you two will make it work but what all does that mean?

“Well…” you begin to feel small under your mothers gaze. “I am….” You find it hard to gather the words and the courage to finish your sentence. You feel like the lights above you are too bright, too hot and causing you to sweat slightly.

Suddenly, you feel Taehyung’s large hand caressing and squeezing your thigh. Your head whips up to face him and he is already staring at you with a small smile.

“She’s coming back with me to Korea.” Taehyung states while he continues to look at you, finally, he turns his head to face your parents.

Your mother quite literally chokes on her spit, her eyes expanding twice their size as she looks at the two of you. Your dad rubs her back, trying to calm her.

“She’s what now?” You mother coughs out, “I don’t think I heard that right.”

Your sister looks between the four of you with a wide grin on her face.

“Oh mother dearest…” Elli sings out. “I think you did hear that right.”

“You’re …you’re moving to Korea?”

“Yes.” Ellie jumps in but you twist your head to look at her disapprovingly.

“No…no, just going to visit.” You finally find the courage to say. “For three weeks.”

Your mother scrunches her face up, a look of disappointment on her face.

“y/n. You just started a new job. Don’t you think this is rather irresponsible?”

“It’s only for three weeks darling.” Your dad finally says something. “Right y/n?”

You nibble on your bottom lip and nod your head a few times.

“For now.” Taehyung cuts in. His hand continues to rub your thigh and you hate to admit how much feeling his hand on your thigh makes you feel so good.

“Wait.” You snap out of your thoughts, “What do you mean ‘for now’, huh?”

Taehyung looks down at the table, about to respond to you when the server comes back with your drinks.

“Your tea mam…” the server sets down the tea in front of your mother and she barely reacts. She only blinks at you and Taehyung, her face gone pale.

“Yes, Taehyung.” She starts, “What do you mean for now?”

Taehyung opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. He turns to face you and he awkwardly smiles.

“I feel like that’s something we have to talk about…just me and you.”

“If it’s something just us to discuss then why bring it up in front of my parents?” You grit out nervously.

“Right…sorry.” Taehyung mumbles, he reaches for his water that the server just set down. “You’re in this right?” He asks before taking a sip of his water. “With me?”

You blink at him a few times before glancing at your parents, they look at you with curiosity. Then your eyes find your sisters who is drinking her vodka sprite with a smug smile.

“Yeah y/n.” Ellie takes a few sips. “Are you in this?” Then you feel her kick your foot with hers.

“Y-Yes.” You say, a bit shy. But Taehyung finds himself relaxing.

“Then, for now.” He repeats himself from earlier, “One day we will live together, don’t you think? But don’t worry it’s up for debate where.”

“L-Live together?” you get out awkwardly.

“If you remember correctly y/n, it’s not like we haven’t lived together before.” He squeezes your thigh. “Don’t worry it’s something we will get to…slowly.”

You nod your head in understanding and face your parents. You exhale a deep breath and find your mothers eyes.

“I will be leaving tomorrow for 3 weeks. Taehyung and I…” Your eyes slide to your side where Taehyung is sitting. “We have a lot to work through. I’m sure you can be understanding of our situation.”

“Of course sweetheart.” Your dad smiles at you, but your mother is shaking her head.

“You didn’t even want to reach out to him? You think you can enter a relationship when you didn’t even want to talk to him?” Your mother snaps at you. She crushes the napkin in her fists as she speaks. “You can’t handle this y/n.” she looks at you with cold eyes.

“Mom—”

“She can.” Taehyung cuts in, “She is stronger than you give her credit for Mrs. y/l/n.”

Your mother scoffs at this, she throws her napkin in her lap and shakes her head.

“You don’t know her then. Taehyung.”

You feel yourself grow smaller and smaller as your mother continues to bash you. You try to even your breathing but her words carry weight.

“Jesus Christ, mother.” Ellie cuts in. “Do you even know the first thing there is to know about y/n?”

“I think I know my daughter well enough that when there is the first sign of something not working she runs away.”

“So what?” Taehyung growls. “So I am supposed to abandon her because she has personal shit to work through?”

“Tae…” you mumble weakly, “Let’s just go…”

Your sister finishes her drink and slams it down on the table, she looks at you with eyes on fire.

“Really y/n? Just going to prove her point like that?” Ellie hardens her expression as she stares at you waiting for your reply.

You feel weak. But your sister is right. You can’t let your mother win every time.

“Listen, you can agree or disagree but I am going.” You look your mother right in the eye. “I love him. And we have a lot to work through if we want this.” You say honestly. “So, whether you guys agree or not, I am going.”

“Of course we agree.” Your dad continues to rub your mothers back. “Your mom is just worried about you.”

“I’ll return home in three weeks.” You say confidently until you notice your mother’s eyes glossed over.

“Will you though? I thought I lost you. Now you want to disappear again.” Your mom says quietly. “He’s the reason you were gone for 8 months.” She points at Taehyung. “And now he wants to steal you away again.”

You pinch your brows together and try to breath evenly as your mom’s words sink in. She blames Taehyung for the island?

“It’s not his fault for the island mom…” you look between her and your sister, looking for answers. Ellie just shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, right?” your mother spits out. “Just do what you want y/n.”

“I will?” you say slowly. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

“You leave tomorrow?” Your father asks, still rubbing your mothers back.

“Flight is at 10 am.” You respond, “I promise I will be back.”

“She will come back.” Taehyung says softly, the guilt evident in his voice. “You can trust me to take care of her.”

“Okay, then that’s all settled!” Your dad claps his hands together. “Should we order some food? You kids get what you want, we’re paying tonight.”

~~~~

“Do you want to take a shower…with me?” Your timid voice shakes a little as you ask Taehyung if he wants to you know, fucking shower with you.

His eyes rake over your body, you are wearing just a towel and his eyes widen at the sight. Your skin looks so soft, so delectable. Your towel barely covering the entirety of your breasts and it doesn’t help how short it is, your thighs so exposed. Your hair falls over your shoulders and your collarbone begs to be kissed.

Taehyung shakes these thoughts from his mind and looks up at you from his spot on the couch.

“I can’t…” he says slowly, “I am serious about going slow.”

“You don’t have to fuck me.” You put it bluntly. “I just miss you. Want to be close to you.”

“You won’t tempt me?” he rises from the sofa. “The most you are allowed to touch me is washing my hair.” He states.

“Okay.” You agree quickly. “Come shower with me.” You reach for his hand and he immediately wraps his fingers around yours, making you get all warm and gooey inside.

“I missed you too.” He whispers, following you into the bathroom. “Missed you so much.”

You take a step away from him and gesture for him to take off his clothes. He raises a brow at you and lifts his hands up.

“Take my clothes off for me.” He lightly teases, “But don’t let your hands linger.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes but you do as he says. You pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor and then your hands go to his pants. Your fingers quickly try to slide down his zipper and drag his jeans down leg by leg. He kicks them off to the side as you reach for the waistband of his briefs. You lick your lips as you slowly slide them down his legs, his cock springing free. He isn’t hard, not that hard at least, but his size is still impressive.

“Turn the water on babe.” He points towards the shower, “And lose the towel.”

You let the towel drop to the floor as you walk towards your shower, Taehyung watches your ass as you walk. He can’t help but bite down on his plump bottom lip, just watching you. He wishes he could take you by the hair, bend you over and fuck you for hours. But he’s afraid at this point the only sex he can have with you is angry, hate sex. And he wants his first time with you again to be full of love and nothing but.

“Make the water nice and warm.” He softly commands.

You twist the knob, making the water run in hot streams. It warms up quickly so you grab Taehyung’s hand and lead him into the shower.

The water stings a bit as it hits your back but you throw your head back anyway and let it wash over you fully.

“Shampoo.” You tell Taehyung and he is already squeezing it into his hand. You walk forward until you are touching Taehyung, chest to chest. He gulps when he feels your nipples grazing his skin.

“Close your eyes.” He commands. “I’m going to wash your hair now.” He massages your head tenderly, your hair turning into a soapy mess. “Rinse now.” He pushes you back until you are back under water.

This continues on, he rubs conditioner in your hair and then takes your washrag and pumps some body wash into it.

“Going to clean you.” He says lowly, “Is that okay?”

“Mhm.” You swallow down your nerves and agree to him touching you. First he moves your hair back and starts at your shoulders. He scrubs them slowly, the soap and water falling down your chest and your arms. Taehyung follows the soap, his eyes traveling all down your body.

“Have you lost weight?” he asks, slightly concerned.

You feel yourself blush.

“Maybe a little.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t the only one going through a hard time, Tae.”

Taehyung nods his head slowly, his hand lowering itself until he is scrubbing at your stomach. He watches all the bubbles form on your skin and he actually feels jealous over fucking bubbles. He gulps, thinking about how these bubbles get to slide down your stomach, how they get to travel down to your pussy.

“y/n…” Taehyung’s deep voice startles you, you are so lost in the way he cleans you. You feel yourself grow more and more frustrated by the way he touches you and you know it will go nowhere.

“Yes?” you say breathlessly. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to clean…” he clears his throat. “Everywhere.” He warns.

You feel your knees go weak at his words, you try your hardest not to rub your thighs together but you can’t help it.

“Okay.” You murmur.

Taehyung’s hands glides down your lower stomach, making you tense. Then his fingers find your pussy and he is rubbing his fingers over it, nice and slow.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” his low voice asks you.

“N-No.” you shake your head, your knees starting to shake from how weak you are.

Taehyung’s fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it. You fall forward a little, your head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder as he feels you.

“You didn’t?” He asks again, his deep voice rumbling. “You’re sure?” He starts rubbing faster.

“I promise, Taehyung.” You moan into his shoulder. “You’re the only one I have been with.”

“Then I’ll reward you.” He whispers, “With my fingers.”

His fingers slide down to your hole and he inserts not one, but two fingers into your lonely, desperate cunt.

“Did you ever touch yourself?” he breathes out roughly. “And think of me?”

“Yes.” You pant, “All the time.”

His fingers start thrusting in and out of you quickly. They are so long, so beautiful. You have missed his fingers so much, it’s ridiculous.

“You only came to the thought me?” His breaths are erratic as he speaks. “Because for me, I only thought of you.”

“Yes Tae, yes.”

He finally adds in a third finger, making you feel fuller and fuller. He curls his fingers making you tense, he starts scissoring his fingers, they brush against your special spots and you groan out loud. There’s no way you are lasting another 30 seconds.

“Please let me touch you.” You start to beg, but Taehyung just thrusts his fingers in and out of you faster and harder.

“Please.” You beg again, you squeeze his shoulders with your hands. “I have missed you so much, need to touch you.”

“No.” Taehyung gets out roughly, “No…”

His other hands fingers finds your clit again and starts focusing his energy there, he rubs your clits so expertly that your knees finally give out on you as you start coming all over his hands.

“Ahhhh. Fuck,” your erratic breaths hit the skin of his shoulder as you come undone. “Fuck…” you bite down on his shoulder. Taehyung isn’t much better, his own breaths uneven.

“I don’t deserve you.” Taehyung whispers in your ear. “You’re too good for me.”

“I’m the one who is undeserving.” You admit softly as you steady your breaths. “Please tell me you will sleep with me tonight…in my bed, I mean.”

“Maybe.”

“Please come to bed with me, Tae.” You stand over him as he lays on the couch. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t trust myself.” He says with his hands behind his head, eyes closed.

“Why are…why are you stopping yourself from being affectionate with me? Why wouldn’t you let me touch you?” you squat down next to him, your face now closer to his.

“Because I don’t deserve you. To be touched by you.” He says softly. “You didn’t sleep with anyone else.” He murmurs, “You stayed loyal to me, despite not knowing when you would see me. But I…” he opens his eyes, he turns his head to face you. “But I did.”

You feel your stomach twist and turn, your heart falling and falling deep into your lower stomach. Hana.

“Why did you do it?” You finally ask, “Why did you feel the need to sleep with her?”

“I was in a dark place, y/n.” Taehyung groans, “The girl I was in love with…am in love with…wanted nothing to do with me.” He looks at you with hard eyes.

“But I hate myself for it.” He admits, “I should have found you sooner, I should have—”

“Tae.” You cut him off before he gets too choked up. “Let’s talk properly. From the beginning.”

“The beginning?” he blinks at you. “Ah. The island. Our fight before we got separated.”

“Yes…” you sit down on the floor, crossing your legs. “I am so sorry. I loved you then just like how I love you now.” You take a deep breath. “My mom isn’t so wrong about me. I ran away when things got hard, or got complicated.” You chuckle bitterly. “But I didn’t think I would wake up and find you to be gone from me, my life.”

“I know…” Taehyung whispers.

“But…” you begin again, “It gives me a whole new appreciation for goodbyes. I should have never let us go to sleep like that, in the middle of a fight, and I will never let that happen again.”

“y/n…” He sits up from his place on the couch and pats the spot next to him, you get up and sit down on the sofa.

“I don’t think the company forced us to have feelings for one another. Because here I am in the real world, so ridiculously in love with you.” you say a bit quietly. “I should have trusted you. Trusted myself. I promise you Taehyung, I will never doubt you again. So tell me how you feel about me and I will believe every word…even if it isn’t all positive.”

Taehyung nods his head as he stares at his feet, his hand goes to your thigh and he starts rubbing it soothingly.

“I love you.” He says after a few moments of silence, “But I am still really hurt over everything. A big part of me keeps telling me you were never going to reach out. That part of me terrorizes me. It screams at me that you don’t actually love me.” He admits lowly, “But hearing you now…it helps.” He says, still rubbing your thigh. “I think I believe in you. Even if you don’t believe in yourself…I really think you would have reached out.” He tells himself more than you. “I have to believe that.” He closes his eyes and is silent for a few more moments.

“Taehyung—”

“Tell me I’m right.” He says desperately. “Just tell me I am right.”

“You’re right.” You say even if you aren’t so sure yourself. “You’re right, babe.”

“You know I don’t play games and I like for everything to be out in the open so I am going to tell you all of my intentions.” Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you.

“Okay.” You gulp.

“I love you and only you.” He begins. “I want this to work for the long run. I want you to meet my family, meet my friends and I want to see how everything goes.” He squeezes your knee. “I’m hoping the visit goes amazing so we can discuss the next steps.”

“Which are?”

“I don’t want to do long distance, y/n…” he brings his hand back to his own body, “I want to live closer to you. Even if that means I have to move here but honestly I think you will really like it in Korea…”

“You want to move together? Like, live together?”

“You already know we can do it. We make pretty good roommates.” He teases, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“Okay, true…”

“Then you realize the things that come after that right?” he says with a smirk on his face. “But first, let’s take these next three weeks as slow as possible. Let’s get to know one another all over again. To see if this really works outside the island.”

“Why do I feel like you are testing me?” you ask with a frown but Taehyung gives you a stern look and shakes his head.

“You’re technically testing me too.” He says, “We need to see if this works.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“I want to officially take you out. On a real date.” He whispers, “Would you like that?”

You feel your blush deepening on your face, your hand goes to your cheek just to feel how warm it is.

“Yes.” You mumble.

“Need to hear you loud and clear baby.”

“Yes.” You say a bit louder and Taehyung’s hand goes back to your thigh, he starts rubbing up and down your leg.

“That’s my good girl.” He leans in to kiss the side of your neck and you feel your whole body go tense under his lips touching your skin.

“Taehyung…” you moan out, closing your eyes. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” He whispers into your neck, placing another kiss then he leans away. “Go to bed.” His deep voice echoes.

“Come with me.”

“Not yet baby.”

You slump your shoulders in disappointment. Why is he being so difficult?

“Just to sleep.”

“I can’t control myself around you y/n. Please respect my decision.” He ushers you to stand him so he can lay back down on the couch. You stand up and hover over him for a moment.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” you asks timidly. Taehyung gnaws on his lips before he is waving you off.

“Please just go to sleep.” He somewhat begs. “I’ll see you in the morning, make sure you’re all packed.”

~~~~~

You are nervous. Nervous as fuck, actually. You and Taehyung just arrived in Korea and even the air is different. You can’t believe you’re actually here, you can’t believe you really got on that plane and flew all the way to Taehyung’s home—the place you were so curious about when you first met him.

Taehyung seems different. Like, being home is showing a whole new side of him. He looks happy, giddy even. He holds your hand tightly as you both walk the streets with your luggage. You two got dropped off from your taxi a couple blocks away from his apartment so he could show you some shops he loves to go to.

“This bar here is quite popular between my friends and I.” he points at a little bar and you just nod your head.

“Looks nice.” You say with starry eyes. “Everything looks nice, actually.”

“We will be going there tomorrow night when we meet up with everyone. My friends-that is.” He squeezes your hand. “Tonight we can go to my parent’s house for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Already?” you look down at your shoes as you walk. “I thought we could just relax today…”

“It’s like 8 in the morning. There’s plenty of time for a nap.” He comments nonchalantly. “Look, I’m just really excited for you to meet everyone. I understand though…if you want to take a few days…”

“No, no. It’s okay.” You shake your head, you two continue walking until he stops, making you stop.

“We’re here. My apartment.” He points up at the building and you take a deep breath.

“Are you going to make me sleep on the couch?” you half joke and he pulls you into his side, hugging you.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He teases.

You both walk up to his apartment and enter the small place—you say small, but it is bigger than your place and much nicer. How does Taehyung afford this?

“My parents help out…” he admits as if reading your mind. “That’s how I got such a nice place.”

“Ah I see. That’s great!”

“Ever since the island my dad has been super supportive of my music, always just wanting the best for me.” He grins sheepishly. “It’s different but it’s nice.”

“I’m happy for you…I can’t wait to meet your parents.” You place your suitcase and backpack down on the floor, Taehyung does the same.

“Let me give you a tour.” He smiles, taking your hand.

You follow him around as he shows you his apartment, you two take a moment longer in his bedroom. You slide your fingers against his beds blanket, and admire the art on his walls.

“Yes, you will be sleeping in here.” He huffs out dramatically, “I haven’t decided where I am sleeping though.”

“Take a nap with me…” you walk closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just an innocent nap” you lean into him, your warm mouth at his ear. “Innocent, I promise.” You lean back a bit to see how pink Taehyung is becoming, his face flushing and his body tensing.

“No…” he stutters, “I can’t.” but he can’t help his own hands from wrapping around your waist. He pulls you in closer to his body and breathes you in. God, this is pure fucking torture. He can’t help the way his breathes become rougher, slightly uneven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out. “I want to kiss you so bad.” He says as he grows weaker and weaker in your grasp.

“Then kiss me, Tae.”

“Maybe our first date.” He teases, his hands going lower until they are gripping your hips. “Please tell me you’ll let me take you out this Friday?”

“I have to wait that long?”

“Only 4 days baby.”

“4 days too many.” You pout…”But you are worth the wait.” You lean up and kiss his cheek.

Taehyung slowly closes his eyes, the urge to kiss you stupid is strong. The urge to rip your clothes off and fuck you? Even stronger.

“y/n…” he warns. “Hurry up and take your nap. I’m going to let the guys know we made it,” he says, pulling out his phone.

You bite your lips while nodding your head in understanding. You pull away from Taehyung and pull off your shirt, and slip off your jeans.

“W-What are you doing?” Taehyung blushes as he watches you undress.

“Changing.” You shrug, you walk towards his drawers and open them up one by one, trying to find yourself one of his t shirts.

“You are really testing me, aren’t you?” he bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes scanning your exposed body. “You really want me to slip those panties off and fuck you silly?” he walks closer to you, putting his phone in his back pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest and eyes you.

“Keep going.” He orders. “Take off the rest of your clothes. Sleep in nothing but the t shirt.”

Your head snaps up to face him and you see how serious he is. You swallow down your spit as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. It falls to the floor and you feel the cool air hardening your buds.

“Panties too.” Taehyung commands, “Take them off slowly though.”

You nod, your hands going to the waistband of your panties, you slowly drag one side down and then the other. You begin to slide them down one leg at a time when you hear Taehyung tsk.

“Slower.” He says sternly. “I said slow.”

You drag them down slower now, they are barely at your thighs when Taehyung takes long strides to meet you. He slaps your hands away and his own hands go to your underwear.

“Like this.” He begins showing you, “Nice and slow. Let the anticipation build.”

He slides them off you so fucking slowly, when they get to your knees he pauses, his eyes traveling up to your exposed pussy. He licks his drying lips and groans.

“I can smell you baby. You’re wet.”

You throw your head back, feeling embarrassed. You squeeze your thighs together when he starts dragging the panties down again. When they’re finally at your ankles, you kick them away.

“You got wet from something like this?” he quirks a brow at you, amusement written all over his face.

“I can’t help it Tae, I need you.”

“You are so greedy,” Taehyung walks closer to you, his fingers sliding up your arms. “You just had my fingers in the shower, now you already need more?”

“I’ll always need more until you let me have you.” You admit between bated breaths.

“Oh is that so?” he teases, his fingers traveling up towards your neck. His fingers wrap around your throat, he squeezes and walks you backwards until your body is against the wall.

“You want to come?” He squeezes your throat just a bit tighter.

“Yes.” You squeak out, you can’t help but swivel your hips.

“My greedy girl wants to come?” he asks again, his other hand gripping your hips. “Then come. Touch yourself.”

“T-Touch myself?” your eyes widen, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb baby, take your fingers and rub that clit for me.” He says while squeezing your throat lightly. You feel yourself grow more and more turned on. Your hand reaches down between your legs, and your fingers find your swollen, aching clit.

“How does that feel babe? To finally be touched?” he asks, his hand never leaving your throat as his other hand massages your hip. “I want you coming all over your fingers.”

You rub your clit faster and faster, you’re slowly closing your eyes when Taehyung squeezes your throat a bit harder.

“No.” he says. “You have to keep your eyes on me.”

You open them wider, you stare up at Taehyung, his gaze is dark and intense. Your lips part as you moan out, your whines and whimpers all directed towards Taehyung.

“Mm.” you moan, “Feels good, Tae.” You rub tight, focused circles on your little bundle of nerves, you quickly feel your high approaching. The entire situation making you feel so fucking turned on. Taehyung looks so fucked out as he watches you. His eyes glazed over in lust.

“You going to come?” he asks breathlessly. “Because of me?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You pant out, “I’m so close.” You tense your whole body as waves of your orgasm begin crashing over you. Your fingers keep going as you ride it out and your head hits the wall as you finally finish.

Taehyung loosens his grip on your neck, and pulls you in for a hug. He brings your naked body to his and he inhales you. Before you can wrap your arms around him and hug him back, Taehyung is grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bed.

“Lay down.” He orders. “Now.”

You give Taehyung a look of question but you do as he says. You lay down on the bed and wait for him to instruct you further.

“Spread your legs.”

You do as he says, spreading your legs nice and wide. You don’t know what to expect though, you eye him curiously.

“Place your fingers at your pussy.” He continues to instruct you. “Yes, like that…now gather your juices for me baby.” He walks over, gets on the bed between your legs. He crawls up your body until his face is in front of your face.

“Get your fingers soaked for me.” He kisses the side of your neck.

You get your fingers nice and wet and you bring them up between your faces, showing him.

“Good. Now let me taste.” He says, “This is the only way I deserve to taste you.”

You frown at that, but you push your fingers past his lips nonetheless.

Taehyung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue swirls around your fingers, he can’t help but groan as he tastes you. You pull your fingers out of his warm mouth and gather more of your pussy juices. You then bring your fingers to his lips again, pushing past them so he can taste you again and again.

“How do I taste?” You breathe out, “Good?”

“My fucking favorite flavor.” He moans, “Taste yourself.” He commands, taking your hand in his, dipping it between your legs, so your fingers can gather your cum. Then he is bringing your hand back between your faces, and sticking your fingers in your mouth.

“Taste.” He orders quietly.

You lick up your fingers, moaning at your situation.

“I want you Taehyung.” You whisper desperately. “I need you.”

Taehyung bows his head down, breathing roughly at your words. He wants you too. He needs you too. But he still isn’t in the right place to fuck you. He wants this first time to be more than a fuck. He wants to make love to you. He also feels like he doesn’t deserve you now. He feels like shit.

“Not yet.” He breathes out harshly. “But maybe soon.” He struggles to find a steady breath.

“Taehyung…” you whine.

Taehyung rolls off your body, stands to his feet and grabs the t shirt you were going to use. He throws it over to you.

“Put this on and take your nap.” He says softly.

You listen, as usual. You pull the shirt over your head and through your arms and get up to clean yourself off.

Taehyung stands at his window, deep in thought. He wants you. He needs you. He loves you. He’s sure of all three of these things. But it’s too soon to think he has forgiven you isn’t it? It’s too soon to think he’s over it. He wants to be over it, of course. But he knows it is too soon to think he is.

“I guess I will take a nap now.” You announce your presence once again. You pull back Taehyung’s covers and slip inside the bed. The entire bed smells just like him. You pull the blanket to your nose and inhale it, you turn to your side and stuff your face in his pillow, inhaling that as well. Everything smells just like him. It makes you feel weak.

“Okay babe.”

You feel your eyes sting just a bit, the reality is Taehyung is still distancing himself from you. And that makes you feel small, makes you feel weak. You aren’t satisfied with anything. No attention he gives you feels like enough.

“Taehyung?” You call out for him, your voice small. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Taehyung leans away from the window and walks over to his bed. He sits on the edge, just staring at you.

“Sure.”

You nod gratefully, you reach out for his hand and he gives it to you.

“This will be a perfect 3 weeks, I swear.” You promise to Taehyung. He feels his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I know.” He responds in a whisper.

“You are going to fall even more in love with me.” Your voice cracks, your eyes filling with tears.

“I know.” He says quietly.

“You’re never going to want me to leave.”

“I know.”

“You are going to beg me to stay.” You choke on your words and he squeezes your hand.

“I know.”

And he is afraid of that…that he is going to beg you to stay but you will say no. You have your own life at your own home. He knows this is going to take work, he knows this is going to take time. He knows this. But fuck, he is ready to do everything with you. But he knows he needs to take it slow.

“You are going to be so in love with me by the end of this.” You silently cry.

Taehyung feels his heart pinch in his chest, he feels it struggling to find a beat. He knows this. He knows he is so in love with you and the more time he spends with you, it will grow. But do you feel the same? Do you really? You weren’t ever going to reach out, were you? He knows the answer deep down. The same thought fucking haunts him.

“I know.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #Taehyung smut #Taehyung angst #Taehyung fluff #the island chapter 9

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folkloreguk · 4 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror (m)

A/N: I will never ever determine which body type the reader has, but I want every single one of you to know that it’s okay to feel empowered by the way your nude body looks, you’re absolutely beautiful and no size is a limit to how sexy you can be!!! You go queens!

words: ~5.4 (I’m sorry idk how to write short things anymore asdfgh)

genre: smut, optional bias (male) x reader (female), kinda fwb??, sexting

[H/N means “his name”]

There’s no feeling quite like the one of trying on your new clothes that just arrived in the mail and loving how they looked. Especially when said clothes were lingerie and you felt like you could conquer the world, even when you were just standing in front of your mirror at 7 pm after you had just stuffed your stomach with lasagna. And what better way to enjoy your happiness than to share it with your best friend?

In fact, you had two best friends. One, a girl who you could trust with your life, and two, a boy who knew all your deepest secrets. One of the central differences between the two was that you would never think about asking the former about his opinion on your new lingerie. You almost laughed at the mere thought while you went through your contacts list and selected your friend’s name and clicked ‘send’. “It’s new. How do I look?” you typed and sent quickly, before throwing your phone onto you bed. You were feeling sexy, but for the rest of the evening there was only one way you wanted to feel: Comfortable. So, you changed into your pajamas instead.

You wondered what she would say about your photo. Sending almost-nudes to your friend might have seemed odd, but for the two of you, it was a completely normal occurrence. You loved making sure you both felt beautiful and confident by complimenting each other. Happily, you walked back to your room after you had picked up some snacks in the kitchen. You grabbed your phone as you plopped down on your bed. While you stuffed a handful of crisps into your mouth, you unlocked your phone to check your messages. You had expected a text from your best girl friend, but instead you had received one from H/N, your best boy friend. Pure horror consumed you when you clicked on the chat and saw your almost-nude there. Sent at 7:01 pm. Seen at 7:05 pm. And worst of all, he had replied before you could have clarified the mistake.

H/N: Idk where this came from but…you’re hot

You: SORRY THIS WASN’T MEANT FOR YOU

H/N: Okay that kinda offends me…you have a bf and didn’t tell me???

You: NO OMG THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING HELP…it was for GF/N just for fun!!!

H/N: Ohhh…in that case…

You watched the dots signaling that he was still writing while you were still wondering how you would ever look at him without getting embarrassed from now on. It wasn’t like the two of you never talked about sex. In fact, he knew a lot about what you liked and didn’t like in the bedroom. Not because he had witnessed it. But thanks to multiple sleep overs with late-night conversations, when your lips became a little loose, you had discussed more sexual topics than you had ever dreamt of. Your cheeks were still feeling hot when you received another text.

H/N: How do I look?

Without missing a beat, he had attached a photo of him. Shirtless. His hair was disheveled, as if he had just removed his shirt, which he probably had. His sweatpants hung low on his hips as he stood in front of a mirror. He had tilted his head a little, showing off his jawline while he gazed at the camera with hooded eyes. You felt more embarrassed with every second you kept staring at his body.

H/N: OMG sorry this wasn’t for you!!!!!

Now you could only laugh at his stupid message.

You: Stop making fun of me!!

H/N: I’m trying to make you feel better!! Do I not get a compliment?

You: Thanks and you look great…can we please NEVER bring this up in the future?

H/N: Sure if that’s what you want…but if you ever need someone to rate your underwear again you know where to find me

~~~

And he really kept his promise. The next time you hung out, he was joking about everything but your little accident. You were thankful. But not mentioning the memory didn’t automatically delete it from your brain. And that’s where your newest problem begun.

You had never really looked at him in a sexual way before – sure, you thought he was handsome – but after than one damned picture he had sent you, you seemed to see him in a completely different light. There were no romantic feelings involved. But something felt profusely wrong about the way you thought about sex when he reached for a glass on the highest kitchen shelf and a small part of his abs was revealed. Or the way you instinctively licked your lips when you watched him stretch his neck in front of you. Or how your head spun when he lifted his shirt to wipe away his sweat when you worked out together.

One day was particularly bad. He had asked you to go to the public pool together, and being his best friend, of course you had said yes. As expected, he made you laugh until you were crying, scream when he playfully wrestled you in the water and giggle when he chased you on the water slide. And yet, you couldn’t help but notice his body. You almost felt bad, but then again, it wasn’t like you adored his character any less. You simply had some added adoration for another part of him. What were you supposed to do when he looked this good acting out a comic character while you played charades in the water? You might have been laughing on the outside, but you could barely tear your eyes off his neck and chest. Lately, you realized, the amount of thoughts you spent on wanting to kiss him had become problematic to you.

When you returned home at night, you couldn’t deny feeling sexually frustrated. Not wanting to give in to the inappropriate thoughts about your best friend, you turned on a tv show to distract yourself. But before you knew it, you were spending more time looking at your phone than at the tv screen. At first you browsed social media, but somehow you mustn’t have payed enough attention to your unconscious mind. You had miraculously landed on his Instagram, and when that didn’t entertain you anymore, you found yourself going back to your text messages with him. When you started at the shirtless picture he had sent you, you regretted not deleting it and forgetting about it right away. You wondered if he could ever feel the same way about you. You didn’t need any romantic feelings from him, in fact, you had no interest in a relationship at the moment. But you had never wanted someone this bad before and it was driving you crazy. So, before you could have stopped yourself, you were typing a message to him.

You: what r u doing??

H/N: do you miss me already?

H/N: ok do you really wanna know?

You: shut up you usually message me first!! and yes I do

H/N: I was about to jack off but you interrupted me

You almost choked on nothing when you read his message. Pretending you didn’t care, you replied quickly.

You: oh no am I killing the mood?

H/N: I didn’t say that

You: ????

H/N: don’t take this the wrong way but if you ever thought about sending me nudes again now would be the time

You: are u crazy?? are you actually asking me for nudes rn

H/N: it was worth a try ok let’s go back to being best friends who would never hook up

If you were freaking out about his previous messages, this one made you lose your mind completely. What was he saying? As confused as you were, you were also equally as sexually frustrated as he seemed to be. So, without a second thought, you chose the latest underwear picture you had taken and sent it to H/N.

You: that’s the most you’ll get…I won’t send complete nudes

You stared at the three dots indicating that he was writing a message. It felt like five minutes had passed when he finally replied.

H/N: fuck you’re so hot

And then he sent another shirtless picture. His bulge was prominent against his pants and the sight of it didn’t exactly help you with the pent-up frustration inside of you. But maybe it didn’t need to, because apparently, he felt the same way about you. You wanted to tell him about it. But there was no way you would be sexting your best friend at 11 pm, horny and frustrated. You knew you’d regret it and you’d only end up being embarrassed the next day. With no idea what to send him instead, you opted for simply waiting to see if he would say something. But he didn’t. Whilst waiting, you looked at his picture again. His jawline, his shoulders, his abs…and his boner straining against his sweatpants. For a moment you wondered if he was thinking about you too. Was he imagining it was you who was touching him when his hand wrapped around his cock? The more you let your thoughts run free, the worse your frustration became. And before you knew it, your hand was between your legs.

~~~

The next day you went about your duties, trying hard to pretend the previous day had been nothing but a fever dream. Luckily, you weren’t going to see him for another few days, so you could already practice an explanation of why sending nudes to each other had been a crazy idea. You worried about whether you could ever be the same around him after what had happened. But no matter how hard you tried to come up with a good reason why you should never even mention it again, you couldn’t. You were best friends who found each other hot. So what? Things could be worse. By nighttime, you had changed your mind. You were in the process of getting ready for sleeping, when your phone vibrated on your nightstand. His name lit up the screen.

H/N: you up?

You: not for long…whats up

H/N: I’m sorry for what I said yesterday about us not hooking up and so on…I was tipsy and you know my loose lips when I’m drunk

You: there’s nothing you need to apologize for

H/N: I was being weird and creepy…you’re my best friend

You: and you’re mine…that doesn’t stop me from finding you attractive

H/N: so I didn’t creep you out asking you for nudes?

You: I sent them to you, didn’t I… so what do u think

H/N: btw…thanks for that

You: likewise

…

H/N: so you’d do it again?

You: you’re not drunk now are you?

H/N: no just horny

You: dude I was about to go to sleep

If this had been a random guy you were occasionally talking to, you would have declined the request right away. You were tired and didn’t exactly feel too confident in your physical state. Nonetheless, you walked over to your mirror, pulled your shirt up until your bare breasts were almost exposed, and snapped a picture. Maybe it was the fact that you knew he’d return the favor and send you something back, or the immense trust you had in him. Posing in different ways, you took a few more pictures before you jumped back onto your bed. Impulsively, you chose the pictures you liked best and sent them to your best friend.

You: the things I do for you

H/N: fuck you look so good

You: have you always thought like that about me?

H/N: have I always found you hot?

You: yeah

H/N: I mean I never not found you hot

You: thanks I guess??

H/N: maybe we should have done this way earlier

You: agreed

Your eyes widened when he sent you a picture. He was still in his underwear, but his hand was wrapped around his visibly hard member outlined by the dark fabric. You had wanted to sleep, but somehow after looking at the photo for a little too long, you were wide awake. Leaning against the headboard of the bed, you let your head imagine whatever came to your mind. Never before had you noticed how much you liked his hands. Or maybe it was a temporary thing, now that you were already thinking inappropriate thoughts. You imagined it was his fingers softly touching the inside of your thigh, squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples. The first time you moaned his name quietly, your cheeks heated up. But the more you thought of him, and the more you allowed yourself to wish it was him between your thighs, the more natural his name sounded between your whimpers.

And the two of you didn’t stop there. You might haven’t had time to hang out with him for another week or so, but you were texting each other more than ever before. Almost every night, you sent pictures to each other. With every passing day and every time you came thinking about his body on top of yours, you became more comfortable. Your messages to each other turned dirtier with every day and every picture was a little riskier than the previous one. By the way you cried out his name every night, your neighbors must have thought you had gotten a new boyfriend. One that was exceptionally good in bed, by the sounds of it.

Now it was exactly one week and a day after you had first sent him a picture of you. You had just stepped out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around your body as you entered your bedroom.

One could’ve thought you were going to be less horny, the more time you spent texting him about your inappropriate thoughts. It should have gotten less exciting at some point, shouldn’t it? To you, it was the complete opposite. He was all your thought about at night. So when you noticed your phone on your bed, you couldn’t stop your urge. You grabbed it, unlocked it and went straight to your messages with him.

You: please tell me you’re alone

H/N: yeah I am…do u need something?

Even though his text might have sounded innocent to anyone else, considering what you had done for each other all week long, you instantly got excited.

You: I have a present for you but since you’re not here I’ll unwrap it for you

H/N: I love presents

You had taken multiple photos. Starting from your with a towel covered body, you had slowly revealed more skin to him, until you had dropped the fabric completely. In the last picture you were covering your nipples with one hand across your chest, making sure your slightly parted lips were in the frame as well. After you had pressed ‘send’, you got comfortable on your bedsheets, not so patiently waiting for his reply. You hadn’t been able to get him off your mind while you had been showering. Now you didn’t even need to touch yourself to know how dripping wet you already were.

H/N: this is what you do to me

You were surprised when you saw his message. He had attached a video. Up to that day, it had only been photos you had sent to each other. So, when you clicked the ‘play’ button, you almost felt nervous. But the nervousness changed into something wholly different within the first two seconds of the video. His hand was down his pants, clearly stroking himself. He wasn’t speaking, but even the simple sound of his breathing behind the camera made your head spin.

H/N: do you want more?

You: I wish you were actually here

A blink of an eye after you had sent the message, instant regret hit you. Had you crossed a line? There had never been serious talk of the two of you actually hooking up, although you surely had thought about it more than you wanted to admit.

H/N: me too

You sighed in relief. So he wasn’t thinking you were going too far.

H/N: but its late and we’ve got work tomorrow

You barely had time to even think about a reply. The sole fact that he was seriously considering coming over or letting you drive to his place right now only justified the saying “People want what they can’t get”.

You: you’re right…this will have to do

…

H/N: let me know if you need more

But you already had your hand between your legs, his name on the brink of falling off your lips.

The next day, you were surprisingly focused on your work. Of course, you thought of him. He was your best friend, after all. Who would you have been if you didn’t wonder what he was up to or if you didn’t wish he was having a nice day? But that was about it. No dirty thoughts, no random sexual frustration at 2 in the afternoon. That was, until your phone vibrated in your pockets and you opened his message.

H/N: wanna hang out at my place tonight?

It was finally Friday. After over a week of not seeing him, you didn’t just want to meet him because you wanted him sexually. You missed his silly jokes and the way he made you feel careless after a stressful day. So, needless to say, you agreed.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen. Were you just going to hang out, the way friends do? Were you even going to mention your texts to each other? Your nerves were going mad when you drove to his place in the evening. It was a weird feeling to have about your best friend, you had to admit. But then again, you had every right to after the past week.

When he opened the door for you, you didn’t feel half as awkward as you thought you would. His hug felt the way it always did, and his room still was like a second home to you.

“Do you wanna order take out?” he asked.

“What’s in your fridge?” you returned the question.

“If I’d have to guess I’d say two eggs, half a bottle of soda and some yogurt,” he said. You laughed, already pulling up an app to order some food.

“Take out it is,” you grinned, falling onto your stomach on his bed. He followed your example. His shoulder was touching yours while you tried hard to focus on scrolling through the different offers of meals. But your look was drawn to his hands too close to yours and from one moment to the other, your mind was flooded with sinful pictures. You thought of him here, in this very bed, jerking off to the thought of you. Taking pictures of himself so you could do the same. Too many times you had imagined your face buried in his pillows, letting him hear the way you had been crying his name all week long, being able to make him cum with your own body and feeling his lips on your skin. Was he thinking the same things right now? Was he also struggling to focus on the simplest tasks?

“You’ve been looking at that chicken for a while now. Are you gonna order it or not?” he asked, making fun of you. How were you going to sit here, waiting and then calmly eating your dinner as if nothing was different? When you didn’t reply, he grabbed your hands along with your phone, making you look at him. You couldn’t instantly read his expression. All you knew is that in six years of friendship, he had never once looked at you this way. Inevitably, your eyes went to his lips and back to his eyes.

“Aren’t we going to mention this whole nudes-sending situation at all?” he suddenly asked, grinning cheekily. “What? You’re thinking about it too, aren’t you?”

You swallowed thickly. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

“How badly I wanted you last night,” he said. His face was close to yours. If you only bent forward slightly, you could kiss him.

“As in…now you don’t want me anymore?” you asked. He chuckled.

“Do you really think I didn’t want to push you against the closest wall and make out with you the second you stepped into my house today?” he asked.

“Then why didn’t you?” you asked, smirking and inching your lips closer to his. “Because I would have loved that.”

Instead of answering you, he finally leaned in to connect your lips. Within the first seconds you were moaning, and his tongue was on yours. You abandoned your phone on his sheets, swinging one leg over his waist to straddle him. He groaned into your mouth when you pushed your hips against his, your crotch rubbing over his bulge. Judging by the way you both reacted, neither of you had plans to take this slow.

His hands wandered over your sides and to your ass, squeezing it a little. You only moaned again, your fingers getting busy with his button up shirt. Teasingly, he bit your lip while he pushed your shirt higher, goosebumps rising on the skin he touched. His breathing became heavier when you let your hands roam his chest, pushing the fabric of his open shirt to the side eagerly. When you rolled your hips over his bulge again, you felt his erection more prominently than before, making you smile to yourself. For a moment you pulled away and pulled your shirt over your head.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he confessed, watching as you discarded your bra onto the floor.

“Me too,” you agreed. He had sat up as well, and you helped him remove his shirt eagerly. “I’ve been wondering what your hands feel like.”

At your words, he pulled you back on top of him, playing with your breasts softly. You reacted, leaning over him, so he could take one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered at the way his tongue pressed against your sensitive skin. He gave the same attention to the other side, his breath leaving behind a cold sensation where he had kissed you.

Then, you bent to his level again, lips meeting in a needy kiss. You let his tongue lead yours for a while. Meanwhile, your hands sneaked to the waistband of his sweatpants. He hissed into your mouth as you grabbed his length through his pants, palming him through the fabric.

“Are you still into biting?” you asked, referring to a late-night talk you had had in the past. He smirked, nodding. Softly, at first, you nibbled on his neck, occasionally licking and kissing him. You got the exact reaction you had expected when you bit him, not to harshly, but probably leaving a purple mark nonetheless. He moaned and threw his head back, only exposing more of his neck to you. As time went on, you made your way down his chest and his stomach, settling between his legs. As much as you enjoyed hearing his moans and attempts to make you hurry, you were just as impatient, if not worse.

In one go, you pulled down his pants and underwear. He lifted his hips so you could fully take the clothing off his legs. Your mouth watered at the sight of him below you.

“If you had told me two weeks ago, I would be sucking your dick today, I would have called you a clown,” you chuckled.

“Look how the tables have turned,” he said, laughing with you. But his expression hardened the moment your hand wrapped around his length. You stroked him a few times, before lowering your head. Your tongue licked a stripe up the side of his shaft, until you opened your lips just enough to take his tip into your mouth. He cursed under his breath when you batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” you asked, your hand continuously touching him.

“I like it maybe a little too much,” he said, only making you grin. His expression read pleasure, his brows furrowed and his lips hung slightly agape.

“There’s no such thing as liking something too much,” you said. Purposely, you watched his face when you wrapped your mouth around his cock, tongue pressing flat against the tip. Steadily, you bobbed your head, your hand covering the rest of his length. His thighs were flexing under your hands and his stomach was rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. He propped himself up on his forearms, watching you intently.

“This feels so much better when you do it,” he said, followed by a groan when his cock touched the back of your throat for a moment. Your hand was covered in your saliva by now, eyes tearing up a little bit, but you blinked the tears away quickly. Every time you pulled away a little, you made sure to swirl your tongue around the tip. Right away, you had noticed the way he hissed at that specific action. Again, he cursed under his breath and you made eye contact once more. His lips looked pink from where he had been biting them and his cheeks were slightly flushed a rosy color.

“Oh my god-,“ he moaned. “I’m so fucking close.”

You bobbed your head faster now. After another few seconds you pulled away, replacing your mouth with your hand. The muscles on his stomach were tense and he had his hands balled to tight fists next to his body. You enjoyed his moans for a while longer, before you could feel him twitch in your hands. When he reached his high, he let his body fall back, his arms no longer able to hold himself up to watch you. The evidence of his pleasure spilled onto his abs and you slowly let your hand come to a rest. One of his hands was swung over his forehead as he breathed heavily. When you looked up at him again, he still seemed exhausted but was grinning from ear to ear.

“Give me a second and I’ll return the favor,” he said, sitting up. At his words you realized once more how much you wanted him. Quickly, he cleaned himself up. As you rolled over to lay on your back next to his sitting figure, you yawned briskly, getting comfy in his sheets.

“You’re bored? If you want we can also just watch a movie, or if you feel like-,“ he said with raised eyebrows.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” You sarcastically laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m open for whatever. Right after you’ve made me cum on this mattress.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, turning so he hovered over you. “I think we can arrange that.”

He went straight to kissing your stomach and hips, while he unzipped your pants for you. His kisses tickled you a little, but the sensation was quickly forgotten by how close his hand was to where you wanted him most. In order to let him take off your pants, you lifted your hips a little. When he had thrown your pants aside, he couldn’t hide the cocky grin on his face at the sight of your underwear.

“This looks familiar…where have I seen these before?” he asked innocently, placing his hand on the material. You flinched a little when his fingers hovered over your center. It was a fleeting touch, but the lack of attention had made you needier than you would have thought.

“Imagine I hadn’t accidentally sent you that first picture,” you said.

“I don’t even want to imagine that,” he said, his dramatic tone making you laugh a little. Abruptly, your laugh turned into a whimper when he pressed one of his fingers against your covered clit.

“I get that you’re in no rush anymore, but I’m not gonna lie, I am,” you said, wriggling against his hand. He chuckled again but seemed to obey your request. His hand slid into the hem of your underwear, fingers instantly coated in your juices. In response, you only hummed contently when he curled his digits against your clit. Within seconds you relaxed into his touch. You put one of your arms under your head and closed your eyes for a while. Now and then, he teased your core by almost pushing his fingers inside of you, but then not doing so. As frustrating as it was, you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. With skill, he rolled your clit between his digits. His free hand pulled on your underwear slightly, but not quite enough for it to come off. You whined at his teasing, looking into his eyes with a pleading gaze. He watched your expression for a while, probably enjoying the fact that he finally had the real you underneath him, instead of having to stare at some photos on his cellphone. So he finally obliged, making you feel empty when he pulled his hand out of your soaked panties, but simultaneously thankful.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined doing this within the last week,” he said. Then, he lowered his head and took your clit into his mouth. You had only opened your mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be deleted from your brain before they had time to come out, replaced by empty curse words. He didn’t waste any time in taking it slow, but you couldn’t have minded less. When he inserted to of his digits into you, your toes curled in pleasure and relief. With the way you whimpered desperately whenever he curled them against your walls, he had found your sweet spot in almost no time.

For more than a week you had been imagining, demanding for his touch, so deeply that now you could barely think straight when you finally got what you wanted. His tongue could do so much better than your own fingers could ever satisfy you. It was the unpredictability that made this so much more enticing than when you touched yourself. Would he slow down for a while, giving your breathing time to calm down, only to suck on your swollen clit feverishly out of nowhere? Would he curl his fingers inside of you almost painfully slowly, or would he almost pull them out completely, only to slide them right back into your core, until your vision felt so blurry you had to close your eyes? The more you thought about how good he made you feel, the quicker you felt your orgasm approach. One of his hands softly stroked over your belly, a strong contrast to the way your insides seemed to tie themselves into a tight knot that took up all your attention.

“Oh my god- please don’t stop,” you only moaned. Of course he didn’t. He only hummed against your center, only adding to how incredible you felt. As much as you loved watching him between your legs, there was no force that could have kept your eyes from shutting anymore. Your back arched off the sheets and your hands tightened in pleasure when the familiar feeling washed over your mind. You whimpered and struggled hard to keep your legs from closing around his head. For a few seconds you were blinded by the bliss, until your sensitivity began to set in. You softly pushed his head with your fingers in his hair, and he slowed down and drew back.

It took you a while to come down and until your breathing had regained its normality. Your eyelids fluttered open, while he plopped down next to you. He swung one of his arms around your waist, an action he had done multiple times in the past – only now neither of you was wearing clothes.

“That was amazing,” you said. “And here I thought I’d forever regret sending you that photo.”

He chuckled. “Agreed. So, what do you say? Are we able to focus on what to order for takeout now?”

You nodded and laughed, hoping this instance wouldn’t be the last time this happened between you two.

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years

Text

Ch. Thirteen

⚠WARNING: Emotional hurt, mention of previous character's death

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Your nose is running and your breath hitches as you weave through other strangers on the sidewalk. A few glance at you, a college-student nearly sobbing on her walk. But to your relief no one stops to talk to you.

It’s almost what you want. You’re desperate to get back to your apartment, lock the door and burrow into your sheets to fully process the events from tonight alone.

Oikawa selfishly spilling your secret, the deepest secret you hold, in a fit of childish rage. And yes, your argument with him didn’t help but you didn’t think he’d stoop that low.

Your phone has been ringing nonstop since you’ve left but you haven’t bothered to pull it out to check the messages or voicemails. You know it’s Oikawa who’s bombarding you with calls and voicemails. And it’s Makki and Mattsun who are sending the texts.

But you don’t want to talk to them.

You acquiesce as you wait for a stoplight to change so you can continue your sad, pathetic walk home. You glance over your shoulder, paranoid that your friends are coming after you to talk. In between the glances you grab your phone and open it up.

You ignore the incoming call from Oikawa and unlock your phone. You see notifications coming into your message app and tap it open. You briefly watch the ever growing number coming from Oikawa’s chat with you before you open the texts from Makki and Mattsun.

You slip your phone back in your pocket without replying. You just want to be alone.

Well, not really. The only person you can imagine talking to about this right now is dead. And that fact kills you.

You can’t tell him how embarrassed you are that Makki and Mattsun know your pathetic secret. You figured that they suspected something was happening between you two in high school because you had such a different relationship with Hajime compared to the others. You’d harbored the idea of finally confessing and actually being with Hajime but you’d shelved it until you were ready.

But then he died. He was taken from you way too soon, and now you’re left with your confusing mess of emotions and thoughts and what if’s.

Having to live with these feelings is unbearable. Having your friends know that you live with these feelings, and the circumstances surrounding them, is even worse.

Fresh tears fill your eyes and you wipe them away.

You round the corner and see your apartment building in sight. You reach into your pocket to get your keys so you’re ready to get inside and lock behind your door.

Except you don’t find your keys in your pocket. Not the right one, not the left. Not in your bag, not in your pockets even after checking - you don’t have your keys.

You let out a whine. Fuck, you do not need this right now.

You think for a second, retracing your steps and trying to remember where you went today. You can cancel a few spots but there are others that could be where your keys are.

You pull out your phone to send a message, starting easy.

The short feeling of victory you felt at finding your keys is erased when you realize you have to walk to Osamu’s apartment. It isn’t far…but you’ve had a long day.

A long day, long week, long couple of months. A long time stuck in this hell of constantly bickering with Oikawa, studying and working your ass off in your classes, navigating life without your best friend.

Is this your life now? Is waking up every day, crying, dragging yourself out of bed to be a civilized member of society, coming back home to cry and then sleep - is that your destiny?

The harrowing thought settles around your shoulders and you feel yourself sink further into the black tar pit you’ve been trapped in for months.

Osamu’s apartment looms above you, and the idea of putting on a friendly mask, even for someone who you want to be friendly with, exhausts you. Hopefully you can get your keys and leave.

You need to be alone, you are alone. Your friends are worrying about you, concerned for you. You are a burden. For all you know your friendship with Oikawa is shattered. You don’t deserve his friendship.

The dark thoughts pick up speed, spinning around and around and around. You feel yourself getting lost in them.

Hajime would know how to help. He would always bring you into the light. He is your light.

Standing in front of Osamu’s door (how did I get here?) you use an embarrassing amount of energy to lift your hand and knock. It doesn’t take long for Osamu to open the door. His calm look is quickly replaced with genuine concern.

Fuck, now he’s worried about you.

“Sorry, I’ll just get my keys.” Your voice warbles, much to your humiliation and shame.

Osamu holds open the door wordlessly and you walk back into the apartment. You spot your keys on the counter. You walk in front of them and stop.

They’re your keys - the black heart keychain is heavy and “able to do serious damage,” as Hajime once said. He got it for you, back in the summer after high school.

He was always creative with the gifts he gave you. Even with something as small as a keychain you knew he put in time and effort and love into them.

If there was one person who you could depend on, it was Hajime.

Tears well in your eyes. You don’t ever seem to be in short supply of them.

Is this my life? You wonder. Am I ever going to feel normal again? Am I ever going to be okay?

You tell yourself to lift your arm, grab your keys, and leave. Leave Osamu alone, don’t burden him with your mess of feelings and your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Through the screaming swirl of thoughts in your head you hear Osamu call your name, and through the watery film in your eyes you see Osamu looking at you.

Leave, you have to leave now.

“I should-” you croak out. You can’t finish your sentence, you don’t know how to finish your sentence. Your brain is malfunctioning, error codes flashing like a broken computer.

Processing error, malfunctioning error, human error.

Error, error, broken, broken.

Only Hajime could fix you.

And he’s dead.

You stare at Osamu, and burst into tears.

Like a damn bursting, the sobs fall from your mouth, unrelenting. You curl into yourself, trying to ebb the flow. It’s pointless, as you are broken. You cannot be fixed.

It hurts, it hurts so much.

Harsh cries rattle your body, rip through your throat and spill out into the serenity of Osamu’s apartment.

Hajime, I miss you.

The ache in your heart flares white hot. It burns and hurts and just adds to your growing pile of misery.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed that you’re having this intense emotional release in Osamu’s apartment - it's not the first time you’ve cried like this but it is the first time doing it in front of a friend. But you can’t gather yourself to apologize or try to escape. You’re stuck, standing in the apartment crying.

A hand comes to rest on your back. Your turn, finding Osamu standing next to you. He rubs his hand on your back in a soothing, comforting motion. His eyes are full of concern but also something akin to reassurance.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs gently. His hand is rubbing up and down, and you feel subdued by the unseen motion. You feel your aching pain diminish with every stroke down your back, but the tears are relentless.

There must be something wrong with you that you can’t even be comforted properly. If the tears won’t stop when someone says “it’s okay” what does that say about you?

Broken, broken.

You turn into Osamu, seeking comfort that is wasted on you. Your head finds relief on his shoulder. You feel him guiding you to the couch and gently sitting you down. Your hands stay clutched in his shirt and you sob into his shoulder. Once sitting you feel the hand on your back drift to your shoulders, while his hand gently guides your head to the crook of his neck.

“It’s alright,” he says softly. “‘M here, it’s okay.”

His gentleness just makes you cry harder and you can’t help but lean further into him. He lets you sit against him, crying through the piercing pain stabbing at your heart, howling against the constant misery in your soul. He lets you come undone and offers you words of comfort and a shoulder to cry on.

“‘M here,” Osamu murmurs into your ear. “It’s okay.”

It’s such a loaded phrase - it’s okay. Everyone and their grandmother tried telling you that when Hajime died. It’s okay. You wanted to ask ‘what’s okay? NOTHING about this is okay.’

Your face scrunches up as you cry, knowing you are so far from okay that it would take a miracle to get back.

“It’s okay Y/N, it’s alright.”

It’s funny, hearing this reassurance from Osamu. Because he knows, more than the average person, how not okay everything is. For him and for you. And yet, it seems to be his go-to phrase right now.

“It’s okay.”

He’s not telling you “it’s okay so you should feel better.” His reminder allows you to grieve, to feel how not okay everything is. And feeling that pain is okay.

So you cry and cry, leaning on Osamu as you fall apart.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: Congratulations, you've made it through one of the heaviest chapters in the entire story. :( Y/N is going through extraordinary times right now, the cumulation of the past weeks' events finally catching up. I hope if anyone reading this is going through any similar situations you can find someone like Osamu to help you through them. 💖

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef

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jincherie · 4 years

Text

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare.

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword.

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching.

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from.

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse.

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now.

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably.

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it.

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment.

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting.

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely.

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising. “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way.

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip. The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him.

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does.

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not.

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can.

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features.

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events.

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls.

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel.

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane.

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here.

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics.

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts.

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing.

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes.

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does.

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour.

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there.

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death.

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this.

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

…You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride. “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch.

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know.

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself.

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone.

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing.

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly.

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten.

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics.

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations.

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think.

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped.

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

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